Listen: Symphony (3:25)
Reflection: Pain. Oppression. Burdens. Frustration. Starting with a powerful E minor, the opening chords of Handel's overture hit me like tidal waves of sadness. Then, partway through, the pace picks up, and so does the sense of tension and urgency. What before felt like a siege becomes a midnight escape.
In the context of the Isaiah passages we'll hear sung this week, this overture to me tells the story of the people of Israel. In the 6th century BC, the time when Isaiah 40 was likely written, the people of Judah were exiled from their homes. They had seen Jerusalem under siege by the Babylonian Empire. Their food and water cut off. Their temple--the one built in grand fashion by Solomon, which had stood for centuries--was destroyed, and its temple implements destroyed. The best and brightest minds of Judahite culture were taken hundreds of miles from home to live in Babylon. I don't know if this was Handel's intention in writing the opening symphony, but for me, this sense of exile from home, of being out of place in our lives and with our God, is essential to understanding the writings of the prophets.
I can't in a million years imagine what it feels like to be removed from my country by force, with no idea when I will return home. But I do know that there are many people on this planet, and in our own country, who know exactly what that feels like. As I hear this symphony, my heart and mind are going out to people in refugee camps across this world, exiled from their homes.
The closest I ever came to being a refugee was my internship year during seminary in Libby, Montana. Our landlord had found mold in our apartment, had took a less than charitable attitude toward Laura and me as a result. We were (illegally) asked to leave permanently with one week's notice, and that week was...wait for it...Holy Week. We were "house sitting" for friends on Easter Sunday, and for a couple of weeks that year, we were technically homeless. But what I learned from that experience was, as terrifying as it can be to not have a place to call home, it opened my eyes to the many ways God blessed us through people's kindness. From an edlerly member who volunteered her garage for us to temporarily store our stuff, to a member who owned a house which just happened to be across the street from church, it all came together, and we knew God was still caring for us. Even in times of exile, God is our shelter.
Questions for discussion:
What feelings does this opening symphony evoke for you?
When is a time in your life when you felt you were in exile? How did your feel God's presence (or absence) during that time?
Who can you think of (personally, nationally or globally) who may be in exile, or "homeless", today? What is one way we can be God's presence for them?
Prayer: God, you are our home and our shelter in times of uncertainty. Be with all people exiled from their homes today. Remind them of your presence and your comfort. In Jesus' name, Amen.
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