You may have recently seen the photos of the Russian President Putin meeting visiting heads of state at a massive table. He is at one end and the visitor is some considerable distance away at the other. It was rightly seen as a power play by political commentators long before the more obvious events in Ukraine. For despite the roundness of the table, usually a nod to the equality of participants, here these photos demonstrate that Putin is clearly the one in charge. “Yes, I have invited you to join me at the table, but I am the one with the power,” it says. But that is totally the opposite message the passage from Isaiah wants to give. With its references to journey and invitation it is clearly stating that coming to God’s table is coming home, that this is a table where everyone is equal.
I’ve used two version of the same passage because I often find the traditional words of scripture can be so well-known that we don’t take as much notice of the words, that we stay comfortable with their familiarity. Instead, having a different version can wake us up to a new and deeper understanding. A moment when we are jolted from our complacency to ask “It says what?”
1 Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters;
and you that have no money, come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price.
2 Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread,
and your labor for that which does not satisfy?
Listen carefully to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food.
3 Incline your ear, and come to me; listen, so that you may live.
I will make with you an everlasting covenant, my steadfast, sure love for David.
4 See, I made him a witness to the peoples, a leader and commander for the peoples.
5 See, you shall call nations that you do not know, and nations that do not know you shall run to you, because of the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel,
for he has glorified you.6 Seek the Lord while he may be found, call upon him while he is near; 7 let the wicked forsake their way, and the unrighteous their thoughts;
let them return to the Lord, that he may have mercy on them, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon. 8 For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord. 9 For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.
Reading 2 “Listen” (a paraphrase of Isaiah 55:1-9)
Hey! Are you thirsty? Come to the water. Are you out of money? Come anyway. Drink milk and eat.
Why do you spend money on things that do not make you happy? Listen to me carefully! Eat what is good and only the best food.
Come to me! Listen to God’s word. I am making a covenant, a lasting promise with you, just as I did with David. Spend your time with God. Don’t follow those who turn from God. God will always forgive you because God’s ways are not our ways.God’s thoughts are as different from ours as the skies are higher than Earth. Come, listen for God!
Both the book of Isaiah and the Season of Lent are about journey. In the passage from Isaiah we hear how the loss of home and temple to a powerful army, as well as being carried into exile, had devastated Israel’s faith. But the prophet offers the hope of a journey home to Jerusalem for the exiles in Babylon. And this time of Lent, that we are in the midst of, recalls again the journey made by Jesus and the disciples to Jerusalem. Both journeys rely on radical trust in God.
Isaiah anticipates a “new thing” that will be done by God and bring deliverance. In fact, the opening verses of this passage bear strong resemblance to Wisdom’s invitation to feast at her table in Proverbs 9.
The wisdom tradition in Judaism focuses on ways to live that open a person to the goodness of God. God’s grace provides the foundation for that wisdom. Thus, Isaiah 55 depicts such wisdom in the imagery of a feast that is free to all who seek its goodness. And they testify to key elements of God’s character.
First, Yahweh is generous and gracious. The invitation to this table and its gifts is open to all and without cost.
Second, God is near and does not hide from us. Notice verse 6 that assures us that the Holy One can be found.
Third, God remains mysterious. God’s graciousness far exceeds our ability to control or manipulate. The freedom of Yahweh is without limit, yet it is freedom exercised with love and mercy. We are called to the feast of such gracious relationship.
And what is the expected response to such an amazing invitation? This is revealed in the imperative (commands if you will) verbs of this text: Listen. Come. See. Seek. Forsake. Return.
From this we can see there is no murkiness in Gid’s invitation. No conditions or clauses. Let me say those words again and let ponder their revolutionary nature –
Listen – everyone I’ve got things I want you all to hear. I don’t want anyone to miss out
Come – the lame, the blind, the rich, the poor, the deserving, the wicked, the old the young, those who feel worthy and those who feel invisible, everyone.
See – what I am doing will be obvious to all. It won’t be done in back rooms or places where the only the powerful have access. What I am inviting you to will be transparent and in the open.
Seek – I want you to feel free to come with your questions, your concerns. Neither do I need you to sign a statement of faith or pay a joining fee before you join this group.
Forsake – leave your old life behind, the hurts and disappointments, the striving and misunderstandings, the prejudices and power struggles. All that gets left at the door and we meet at a round table where status and worthiness has no meaning.
Return – to me. You were all my children, made from my breath. Come back to this place where that again is your only status – my beloved child.
The free and open invitation to God’s grace we hear in Isaiah beckons us to these responses, which do not “earn” the grace offered, but rather live out its call.
This theme of call and response also links Isaiah once more with Lent. For Christian discipleship also consists of trust: trust that embraces God’s graces and is lived out in the actions of our lives. In Isaiah God makes the first move. The invitation to join together at the table, to journey, and to trust is offered freely.
But this isn’t a call for us, the lesser beings to blindly trust the divine one – God. No, God is offering to make a covenant, a two-way promise, to be in relationship with us. The vulnerability of that promise is the Lent journey of remembrance as we are reminded of all Jesus, God with us, had to go through in order to repair and remain in relationship with humanity.
The passage from Isaiah has God invite us to open ourselves to the sound and sight, and to the presence and call of God’s generous goodness all around us and within us. And yet we may well ask, “Why would God offer such an open invitation to all?” It’s awfully messy when everyone is invited and they actually turn up! You have people with no table manners, and people who laugh too loud (or tell awful jokes). You have people who can’t sit still or who can’t even fit their wheelchair or bed at the table. You have people with dietary requirements and religious taboos so you can’t even serve the same food. And let’s not start with the drink; because can the teetotallers, the recovering alcoholics and the drunks really all be in the same space?
It all seems an unlikely vision. And yet we have amongst I’m sure those with the gift of hospitality. Those people with whom you have experienced unconditional welcome, where you have left their presence refreshed and renewed? This may not have been at a meal table but just meeting in a café or over a farm fence, at a men’s shed or at the school gate. It often doesn’t even involve food! But somehow these people just seem to embody God’s open, generous heart of welcome. In fact, just being with them makes you feel rested and rejuvenated, safe and secure ‘at home’. This of extravagant hospitality I think is a glimpse of the feast God invites us to in Isaiah.
So as we continue in our spiritual journey during the Season of Lent, let us ponder the ways we might stop, look, and listen for these gifts of hospitality that God offers to us to all. Ponder too which of our relationships sustain us and which that send us away hungry. We may want to contemplate what sort of ‘host’ we are too for others.
God invites us to open ourselves to the sound and sight, and to the presence and call of God’s generous goodness all around us and within us. To hold close the reality that God journeys with us through loss and fear until we come home. To imagine us all coming together to fill in the spaces at Putin’s empty table of power so that it becomes a celebration of peoples joining together at the table of the Lord.
Rev Stephanie Wells, 20 March 2022