I simply don’t know where to start. This is—without
doubt—the worst pile of steaming garbage I’ve sat through…
This movie was simply AWFUL. Really,
really bad. And to those who are going to argue that the reason why this movie
is rated so low is because people are becoming “anti-Christian”, NO. The acting
was terrible, the script was horrendous, seriously. A group of high school kids
in drama club could do better. It was deathly boring, I thought I was in there
for more than three hours.
Shockingly horrible movie. I can’t
imagine anybody being able to sit through it except for morbid curiosity… Save
yourself an hour and 40 minutes of pain and cringing (or however long you can
tolerate this train wreck of a production). Buy this movie and save it as a
punishment for your grounded kids…
If anything, this movie can bring
atheists and Christians together holding hands to stand firm against piles of
schlock like this.
Ladies and gentlemen, this … may be the worst movie, not
just this year… I mean the worst movie of all time.
I didn’t come here this morning to dis a movie. But
its title, Left Behind, does provide
me with something of a hook on which to hang my sermon. I believe that Isaiah’s
words from which we read a few moments ago were addressed to a people who had
been left behind.
A scene of destruction
After years of surviving as a puppet kingdom, in the summer
of 587 BC
the walls of Jerusalem finally fell to King Nebuchadnezzar and the invading
armies of the Babylonians. But that fall occurred only after Jerusalem had been
under siege for eighteen months. During that time unimaginable atrocities
occurred among a people driven beyond the point of desperation. Here is
Jeremiah’s description of what conditions were like:
The chastisement of my people
has been greater
than the punishment of Sodom,
which was overthrown in a moment,
though no hand was laid on it…
Happier were those pierced by the sword
than those pierced by hunger,
whose life drains away, deprived of the produce of the field.
The hands of compassionate women
have boiled their own children;
they became their food
in the destruction of my people.
The Lord gave full vent to his wrath;
he poured out his hot anger,
and kindled a fire in Zion
that consumed its foundations. (Lamentations 4:6,9-11)
than the punishment of Sodom,
which was overthrown in a moment,
though no hand was laid on it…
Happier were those pierced by the sword
than those pierced by hunger,
whose life drains away, deprived of the produce of the field.
The hands of compassionate women
have boiled their own children;
they became their food
in the destruction of my people.
The Lord gave full vent to his wrath;
he poured out his hot anger,
and kindled a fire in Zion
that consumed its foundations. (Lamentations 4:6,9-11)
It seemed impossible that things could become worse. But
they did. When the walls were breached, the people of Jerusalem, already
reduced to animal behavior, were met with the full brutality of the armies of
Babylon. Here again is how Jeremiah describes it:
Women are raped in Zion,
virgins in the towns of Judah.
Princes are hung up by their hands;
no respect is shown to the elders.
Young men are compelled to grind,
and boys stagger under loads of wood. (Lamentations 5:11-13)
virgins in the towns of Judah.
Princes are hung up by their hands;
no respect is shown to the elders.
Young men are compelled to grind,
and boys stagger under loads of wood. (Lamentations 5:11-13)
In the end, most of those who survived the onslaught were led
away in captivity to Babylon. Jerusalem had been reduced to a heap of charred
stones, its empty streets inhabited by jackals. Only a tiny remnant of the
people remained to tend the farmlands. Poor beyond imagining, desolate and forsaken,
it was to these people that Isaiah’s words were addressed:
A vision of hope
The words seem impossibly optimistic. But before we write
Isaiah off, let us take a moment to examine them more closely. What we see in
this passage is a complete reversal of circumstances for the people of
Jerusalem. Isaiah is writing to a people whose backs have been bowed low by the
yoke of humiliation and subservience. When people have been beaten down in that
kind of way, when they have been robbed of all hope and any sense of self-worth,
their eyes tend to bend downward. Indeed they dare not look upwards for fear
that some further catastrophe may befall them. But Isaiah calls upon them to do
exactly that—and what do they see?
Instead of darkness, their eyes are met with light. To be
sure, there is darkness. But it is not the darkness of the toppled walls of
Jerusalem or the sooty ruins of its Temple. No, now the darkness hovers over
all the earth, with Jerusalem being the one exception. And instead of people
fleeing to get away or being led off into captivity, we find that whole nations,
their rulers included, are being drawn into its light.
Apparently those opening words are not enough to draw
Isaiah’s listeners out of their gloom. And so he calls upon them once again:
“Lift up your eyes and look around; they all gather together, they come to
you.” Leading this vast procession are the people of Jerusalem itself. No
longer a ragtag collection of defeated captives, their shoulders hunched over
in despair, their bodies wasted through starvation, now they are robust, their
eyes gleaming with joy, their stride confident and sure. As they look on, their
mouths gaping in amazement, the dullness disappears from their eyes and is
replaced with vigor once again. The cobwebs of gloom that had enshrouded their
hearts are swept away as a new warmth begins to glow from them. The word Isaiah
uses here is found in only one other place in the Old Testament, in Psalm 34:5,
where David bids us “look to [the Lord], and be radiant”. The idea is that of
witnessing the first rays of the sun as they peer over the horizon at early
dawn, bringing with them all the promise of a new day.
But look: It is not only the people of Jerusalem who are
coming, but people from all nations far and wide, from Midian and Ephah across
the Gulf of Aqaba, from Sheba at the southern tip of the Arabian peninsula,
from Kedar and Nebaioth to the east, and all the way from Tarshish in southern
Spain. It was not only people who would stream into the holy city, but they
would bring all their wealth with them, to offer in homage and praise to the
Lord.
Those with a keen ear will have noticed that among the
tribute that pours in are gold and frankincense, two of the three gifts brought
to the infant Jesus by those strange visitors who had seen his star in the
east. And that may just be enough of a hint to help us realize that what Isaiah
was speaking about was not a political promise or a military victory, but
something infinitely greater: the breaking of God’s final rule into creation. As
we read in the opening chapter of the Gospel of John, “The true light, which
enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.”
A word for today
Well, what does all of this have to say to us today?
I suspect that there are some of us who look back on the old
year, or even the whole of their past lives, in much the same way that the
people of Isaiah’s time looked on their beloved city of Jerusalem, and all we
see is a heap of ruins. Our lives are littered with unfulfilled dreams, lost
opportunities, damaged relationships. Yet even in the midst of the wreckage,
God graciously invites us to look up.
As we look up, what do we see? First of all and most
importantly, that God has not forgotten us, indeed that we are the objects of his
love. In spite of our failures, in spite of our outright sin, he loves us with
a burning, undying love—a love from which nothing in creation, no tragedy, no
failure, can separate us, a love that brought his only Son to the cross. It was
there, mysteriously and miraculously, that the Son of God absorbed all the pain
and darkness, all the sin and evil of the world into himself. Such is the love
that God has for you and for me.
The second thing to realize is that it is in our moments of
pain that God’s light very often most clearly shines. As the apostle Paul was
about to close his second letter to the Christian congregation in Corinth, he
shared with them some of his own personal pain. Through it the Lord had told
him, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in
weakness.” “So,” wrote Paul, “I will boast all the more gladly of my
weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me. Therefore I am content
with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake
of Christ; for whenever I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Corinthians
12:9,10). I am not suggesting that we seek out suffering. Yet I do believe that
God is able to use our pain and even our wrongdoing, indeed to redeem it, in
such a way that his glory is revealed.
A case in point is another movie that came out this past
year, but this time it is one that I fully intend to go and see. It is showing
in theaters now and it is entitled Unbroken.
It tells the story of Louis Zamperini, who competed in the 5000 meter run in
the 1936 Olympics and may easily have become the first man to break the
four-minute mile had World War 2 not intervened. In 1943 his bomber plane was
shot down over the Pacific. In spite of the blistering heat of the sun and very
little water or rations as well as being strafed by a Japanese bomber, he and
another crew member were able to survive a grueling forty-seven days afloat in
their leaky life raft.
That alone would have made an epic tale of suffering.
However they were “rescued” (if that is the correct word) by a Japanese naval
ship and transferred to a series of prisoner-of-war camps, where for two years
they were subjected to some of the most cruel and brutal treatment imaginable. Receiving
a hero’s welcome on his return home, Zamperini found himself haunted by
nightmares of his war experience and his desire for revenge and began drinking
heavily. As his life whirled into a downward spiral, it was through his wife’s
encouragement that he attended a Billy Graham crusade and there committed his
life to Christ. Immediately he found that his dependence on alcohol ceased, his
nightmares vanished, and eventually he was even able to forgive his captors for
the unspeakable cruelty to which they had subjected him. In all it is a
remarkable story of God’s power to bring light out of darkness, glory out of
suffering.
As we emerge into this new year of 2015, amid all the ups
and downs may we find in it the opportunity to discover more deeply the love
that God has for us in Christ and his power to redeem and restore. And may we
take Isaiah’s words to heart and find them fulfilled in our own lives.
Arise, shine; for your light has come,
and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.
and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.
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