Isaiah 40:11
He will feed his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms, and carry them in his bosom; and gently lead the mother sheep.
I keep returning to Isaiah. The promise to a people who have experienced such trauma—a people who don’t know whether or not God can still be trusted—is the promise that seeks me out on this wilderness way.
I can’t read this scripture without hearing today’s accompanying song. I sang Climb to the Top of the Highest Mountain during my first Juletide concert at Luther College. God carried me during that song—lifting me to a mountain top moment of perfect peace. I was home, surrounded by soaring voices in the Center for Faith and Life—my voice part of something so beautiful I could barely sing through tears of gratitude.
Later, after my brother, Mike, died on the same day as my final Juletide concert, there were long years where I couldn’t hear this song without silently weeping. How could the promise be true? I looked at the hurt of the world and saw my own grief magnified and multiplied. How could anyone believe God was good? Everywhere I looked, there was loss. Unyielding, unforgiving loss.
After years away, I returned to Luther to be part of the Christmas at Luther audience. And as this song was sung, I closed my eyes and saw Jesus carrying Mike from the wreckage of his life. I saw him carrying that wounded lamb. Carrying him to safety and security. Carrying him close to his heart. Carrying him home.
In that moment, I knew Jesus was carrying me too.
This is the promise to which we cling. This is the promise we sing to a world whose heart is heavy with grief. This is the good news we proclaim: your God comes to you.
You are not alone. You are held and carried, beloved one.
This heartbroken–heartbreaking– world is in good hands. You are in good hands. Your God comes to you.
And if you can’t trust that today…if you can’t sing God’s promise through the fever of despair…there’s a community of faith that will sing it for you until your voice rings out boldly in the choir once more. We’ll believe it for you until the tears that fall from your eyes contain not just burning, stinging loss but cleansing, soothing, overwhelming gratitude too.
Come, Jesus, come. Come alongside us in the wilderness of our grief. Carry us home to hope. Amen.
Today’s accompanying song is Climb to the Top of the Highest Mountain, composed by Carolyn Jennings and performed by the Luther College Massed Choirs and Symphony Orchestra at Christmas at Luther 2013.