Of flint and spit and
baby birds: some thoughts on Isaiah 50
“I have not turned
my face
away from insults
and spitting…
I have set my face
like flint…”
--Isaiah 50:6-7
There is something quite visceral and troubling in that image
of “spitting.” I can’t imagine not turning my face away from someone spitting
at me. Even simply on a instinctive level, it seems an almost animal reaction
to be horrified by someone spitting on you… And yet here we have this image of
the prophet suffering this indignity willingly.
He will not turn from insults and spitting. He has set his face like flint and will not
turn back. He is committed to the task
at hand. But, what is the task?
This is from the third “suffering servant” song. In these passages the prophet employs the
image of a suffering servant to express God’s love, God’s willingness to suffer
for us. These 4 songs, all found in Isaiah
42-53, speak of God’s enduring love, God’s commitment to Israel, to redeem
her from sin—no matter the cost. He has
set His heart on it and will not turn away. Even though it bring shame and
insult, God will suffer anything for His beloved. That single-mindedness, that sense of
courage, commitment and dedication to a purpose… it is something I too often
lack. I will set a goal, I will make a promise, I will commit myself to some
plan of action and then, before too long, I will find myself forgetting, or
delaying, even making excuses for why I should just give up. I’m too tired, I
should wait until after I rest, and while I rest maybe I could watch just one
more episode of Midsomer Murders. Or what’s the point of cleaning the bathroom?
It will just get dirty again! How many
times have I committed myself to working at least an hour a day on my novel…
And how many times have I just let that hour slip away because I felt ashamed,
or disheartened, afraid of failure, afraid of insults and spitting…? Or what
about that commitment to morning prayer? To a half hour of meditation every
day? Or 15 minutes even? I might look foolish, people might judge me, or worse—no
one will notice! That’s a real slap at the old ego…
And yet, God never gives up on us. Every day, every hour, every moment of our
lives He is right there at our side, reaching out to us, whispering our
name. In fact, according to Isaiah, He
has engraved us in the palm of His hand (49:16). You, me, every single one of us… even the sparrow
that falls from its nest…
Don’t be afraid of your promises, your commitments, your renewals.
Yes, we all have failed, we all have stumbled, we all have turned away… But,
now is a time to be renewed. Now is a time to refocus our attention and set our
face, like flint, on the goal. Listen
for that still, quiet voice that whispers your name. Where is God calling you? How is God calling
you? What great adventure does God have
planned for you? Is it to renew your family
through prayer, is it to serve a neighbor who lives alone, perhaps buy
groceries, pick-up medicine, or mow the lawn for them. Maybe you are being
called to reach out to someone who is lonely. Call them up and ask them how
they are doing, and take the time to actually listen. Ask questions about their
day, their life, what they are doing to get through this anxious time. Maybe God is calling you to get outside and
smile at your neighbors and the people who pass, greet them and compliment
their children. Let them know there is still hope in the world.
The other morning I saw a beautiful example of this. I was out for a walk and saw a commotion of
people busily and somewhat awkwardly bustling about in a neighbor’s front yard.
There were three of them all seeming to be in a state of intense focus, and yet
from the yard kept coming laughter and joyful sounds of encouragement and what can
only be called: effortless delight.
I stopped and one of the neighbors paused long enough to
explain that they were anxiously trying to rescue a baby bird that had fallen
from its nest –which had been built in a hanging planter on her porch. It seems that nest itself had also fallen, so
these three neighbors were busily scurrying about trying to rebuild the nest
and get the baby bird back into it. They were completely focused on the task at
hand, and there was wonderful seriousness—almost a solemnity—about their work. Gathering pine-needles and leaves, looking for just the right kind of nest-making materials, even comically debating which items the mama bird might prefer. The moment was filled with joy.
Their faces were set like flint on the task at hand, and though they were clearly anxious for the safety of the bird, there was also delight in selflessly doing what they could. Unafraid of looking foolish or being ridiculed, they were being true to the call of that little quiet voice. There was no thought of being spit on (or pooped on, I bet...) What a blessed witness that moment was for
me.
Maybe you too are being called to help a baby bird, or maybe
you are being called to sit down and write a letter to someone you haven’t
spoken to in a long time. Let them know they are not forgotten. They are loved.
Inscribed in your heart, even. Or maybe
it is that novel you’ve been meaning to write. Don’t be afraid of looking
foolish, don’t be afraid of failing, just set your face like flint and follow
the sound of that voice calling you always deeper into the love of God.
