You're listening to Mountain View Church Audio, Christ-centered teaching from the Wilderness City, Whitehorse UConn. Here's this week's message. Most of us are pretty good at celebrating, especially during the Christmas season. We plan and decorate, we host guests or travel, we cook and bake, make space for traditions that have been passed down for generations. There's real joy and beauty in all of it. But if we're honest, most of us struggle with the stopping and resting during the holidays. Christmas comes fast and full, filling our calendars, our homes, and our minds. Then almost overnight, it's over.
The guests head home, the schedules clear, the decorations that once brought anticipation now feel like a burden as we think about packing them away for another year. Somehow, the hope, peace, joy, and love we celebrated through Advent have turned into fatigue and weariness. I notice this almost every year, usually right after Boxing Day. After the activities and celebrations end, I realize how tired I am. I'm thankful for what I've experienced, don't get me wrong, but I'm worn out. Maybe you've felt something similar.
You see, if we're not intentional about bringing rest into this quiet pause after Christmas, but before New Year's gets really exciting again, we won't recover. We won't reset long enough to start running again when the New Year hits. This is why we started an annual tradition called Sabbath Sunday. My name is Jeremy, and today we're focusing on the rest in waiting as we close our Advent series, Isaiah's Prophetic Promises. If you're new to Mountain View Church, Sabbath Sunday is different by design.
On the Sunday between Christmas and New Year's, we pause. We pause our regular gatherings and we choose a slower rhythm in homes with friends and family. It's a deliberate day of rest for everyone, including our ministry staff and core volunteers who have been running hard all the way to Christmas. Today, as we intentionally rest in the waiting for the new year, we'll biblically explore Israel's waiting for the promised Messiah and spiritually we'll acknowledge our own season of waiting for Christ's return. So this is an invitation to take a day off in the middle of the busy holiday season. I would encourage you to slow down, share in communion together, and receive the strength God gives to those who wait on him. So let's get started. Isaiah writes in chapter 40, verses 27 to 31. Why do you say, O Jacob, and speak, O Israel? My way is hidden from the Lord, and my right is disregarded by my God. Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary. His understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might, he increases strength. Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted. But they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall mount up with wings like eagles. They shall run and not be weary. They shall walk and not faint. Isaiah wrote those words roughly 700 years before the birth of Jesus.
During the last 400 years of that time, God's people entered into a long, uncomfortable season with no recorded prophetic word, no fresh revelation, and no clear sense of what God was doing. They had to wait in silence and uncertainty for the promised Messiah. It's no surprise that Israel's time of waiting stretched their faith and exposed their weariness. God's people often felt forgotten as they were overpowered and worn down by exile and oppression. Some of them questioned whether or not God still saw them, whether their suffering mattered.
and whether the promises spoken long ago would ever be fulfilled. Some of them wandered. Living in our modern context, it can be difficult to fully grasp the depth of Israel's long journey of hardship. But we can relate to their waiting. Although we live on the other side of the Messiah's birth, death, resurrection, and ascension, we are a people who are awaiting his return. We're waiting for Christ's return when justice is fully realized, evil and darkness are finally defeated, and we live forever in his kingdom.
With that future in mind, we come back to Isaiah's prophecy and we hold it as an applicable truth for all of us. He writes, when we wait on the Lord, he renews our strength. In Western society, that statement might sound counterproductive. Most of us have learned to survive by pushing. We keep moving, keep producing, keep filling every quiet moment we have with an odd assumption that faithfulness looks like constant activity. For church folk, it looks like constant ministry. We just keep serving.
But somewhere along the way, modern Christianity picked up this idea that if we keep doing, keep ministering, keep serving, that somehow God will be more pleased. And yet, Isaiah speaks to a very different posture. Striving is replaced with waiting, and busyness is replaced with dependence. Instead of proving ourselves worthy to God, we take a posture of just sitting, resting, trusting in him with the outcome. Let's focus on the first part of verse 31. It says, But they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength. To fully grasp Isaiah's message, we need to slow down and pay attention to the term he used for wait.
The Hebrew understanding of waiting is to look for, to hope, and to expect. In its root, it's carried the idea of being bound together, like strands collected and twisted into a rope, for example. It's associated with being patient and to tarry on in the time of waiting. Now, let's reflect on the definition that we just read. We can see that biblical waiting is patiently enduring and trusting until the time is fulfilled.
It's a choice to collect our thoughts and feelings and bind them together, collect them together, maybe into a rope, that example, that imagery. And it's all bound together within and for and by God's promises. And so as we wait, we gather our hope around who he is and what we know about his faithfulness. And instead of rushing ahead in our own self-reliance, we cling to him. According to Isaiah, strength can be renewed in the waiting for the Lord. With that in mind, it's worth noting that his original audience was an already exhausted people.
The 12 tribes of Israel were divided at this point. They were facing exile and living under constant instability. So their understanding would have been a calling to trust deeper instead of trying harder. There's nothing they could do to get out of the situation. They were in it. They just had to wait on him. God will eventually exchange their weariness for his strength. Biblical scholar J.A. Moitier affirms this understanding that the phrase renew their strength is literally change strength, as one might change into fresh clothes or exchange an old thing for a new one.
In this context, God doesn't simply give us a quick boost so that we can work harder or get the job done. He does work. He replaces or exchanges what we don't have with what only he can give. It's a replacement. He alone can renew our strength. It's all about him, all for him, all by him. And so coming back to the text, Isaiah gives us three images to describe what this renewed strength looks like. He writes, for those who wait on the Lord, they shall mount up with wings like eagles. They shall run and not be weary. They shall walk and not faint.
The progression of these phrases is actually very intentional. Isaiah begins with soaring because he's speaking to a people who feel crushed, weak, and forgotten. The image of mounting up like eagles points to God's ability to lift his people above and beyond their circumstances. And again, not through their own strength, but through his renewed power. God graciously gives his people seasons where they see clearly again, up above the clouds, where hope is restored and where faith is strengthened.
Theologian A.R. Fawcett reinforces this understanding, describing renewal over self-generated power. He writes, they shall put forth fresh feathers as eagles. The eagle was thought to molt and renew his feathers and with them his strength in old age. In every attitude, the praying, waiting child of God is strong in the Lord.
See, those new feathers come in all by God, not something of the eagle's strength that's knit into them. And so that idea of Israel being knit into God, of being God's people, he will provide fresh feathers, new soaring, and help them mount up, all from God. And so then Isaiah moves from flying to running, which reflects seasons of sustained endurance. For Isaiah's primary audience, the people of Judah, this meant continuing to trust the Lord through political instability, looming exile, and long periods without visible deliverance. So running in this context isn't about speed. It's not a sprint. This is about perseverance, being able to keep going mile after mile after mile. But these people are already worn out. It's only through God that they can go those extra miles. And so it's worth noting that Isaiah isn't promising that life would suddenly become easier for them. They're going to have to keep running, keep persevering. But the promise is that God will supply.
sufficient endurance for the marathon that he has called his people to run. Lastly, Isaiah transitions from running to walking. And in a way, the seasons of walking are where most life is lived. Walking is steady and it's faithful obedience. And it happens over time, day after day after day, trusting in God with quiet faithfulness, walking along step by step by step, almost like on a long trek.
continually relying on the Lord when there's no dramatic highs or lows. Imagine a path that just keeps going, fades in the distance somewhere, and you just keep walking. Only through God can you go on such a long journey. All three of these images are action-oriented. They describe action, and yet they begin with something that seems the opposite. Remember, come back to the original thought, it's waiting. Action items centered on waiting. For those who wait on the Lord.
their strength will be renewed. So they might spiritually soar like eagles, run with endurance and perseverance, and keep walking, even when there's no end in sight. These are all metaphors of faithful obedience that's sustained by God, not self-generated. Through Isaiah, God is teaching weary people that life with him is lived in dependent trust, moving forward at his pace, relying fully on his strength, waiting, waiting. Now, for those of you who might not know, my wife Nicole was diagnosed with cancer this past spring.
Needless to say, that placed us into a season of waiting. Waiting for test results, waiting for appointments, waiting for treatments, waiting for travel arrangements, and waiting for so many unknowns and unanswered questions. And for me, a lot of my waiting happened in one specific season during chemotherapy, sitting beside Nicole during those chemo treatments. They were long stretches of time, nothing to fix, nothing to speed up. Kind of a husband's worst nightmare, actually. And so to pass the time, Nicole would knit or she would sleep. Lots of sleeping, lots of napping. And I would pull up my laptop and try to get some work done, try and do some writing, distract myself. It was just a slow, steady, forced rest in the waiting that I couldn't rush. It couldn't be rushed. And now that she's nearing the end of her cancer journey, I can say that waiting didn't mean nothing was happening.
It might have felt at the time like nothing was happening. I was just trying to distract myself, but there was actually a lot going on. Specifically, there was a lot going on spiritually for both of us. God was present in those moments in ways that you can't acknowledge when life hums along without interruption. God gave us strength when we didn't have it. And it was one step at a time. It was revealed slowly and surely. It wasn't something that just came on and went away. And so this whole cancer journey experience, as I reflect on it, it's taught me that in the waiting,
There is an active receiving of the Lord's strength. Those three actions of soaring and running and walking, I wasn't doing any of them. But internally, in the waiting, God had to do it for us. We didn't have the strength. We only had his strength. And when I think back, it's hard to say this, but it's true that the waiting was worth it. Spiritually, the waiting was worth it. Obviously, I wish none of it happened, but the waiting helped us have a deeper relationship with God, deeper relationship with each other.
And so now, let's come back to Isaiah's prophecy. Israel lived in prolonged uncertainty, generations between promises and fulfillment. The waiting often wore them down, and it caused them to wonder, not because God had failed them, but because they were human. Humanity's timeline is always vastly different than God's timeline. I'm sure you know that. We all know that. And that's why waiting is an act of trust. It's not doing anything, and yes, it's doing something.
actively waiting and trusting. And God has never asked his people to trust him without also giving them evidence of his faithfulness. Eventually, Israel saw the dawn of God's promise fulfilled on that night in Bethlehem that we just celebrated. Jesus was born into the waiting. He lived the perfect life we couldn't live. He carried our sin to the cross. He died, was buried, and rose from the grave. And soon after, he ascended to heaven with the promise that he will return.
Now, based on the first biblical promises, over 2,000 years passed before Christ was coming. And now, for nearly 2,000 years, the church, we, the bride of Christ, has lived in this second season of waiting between Christ's ascension and his promised return. Now, before you start thinking that I'm some sort of doomsday prophet, no, no, no, no, no, please don't think that. Scripture doesn't give us an exact timeline, but Scripture does give us the correct posture. We need to be expected. We need to be waiting in a watchful, faithful way. And looking at the timeline, maybe he could. Maybe, maybe. We're supposed to act like he's coming at any moment. And we need to be dependent on God's strength to endure during this time. And Jesus, in his grace, left us a tangible way to live out that posture of waiting together. It's communion. Every time we take communion, we practice our time of waiting.
Paul reminded the Corinthian church of this when he said, for as often as you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes. Every time we come to the Lord's table, we're reminded that communion is both a remembrance and an anticipation. Communion looks back to what Christ has done, but also looks forward to what he's promised will come. It places us squarely in the already but not yet. It's a tension that is the Christian life. And so with that in mind, at this time, we're going to pause and take communion together.
Feel free to pause the video or audio and gather the elements, either bread or crackers and wine or juice. And once you're ready, just press play and we'll continue. Assuming you're prepared to take communion, let's begin. I'll pray for the bread, read the associated passage, then we'll take the bread together, then I'll follow the same process with the cup. So before we pray, let's take a moment of quiet reflection. Consider the body of Christ given for you, his life in place of yours, his obedience where we fall short. After a pause, I'll pray. Dear Father.
we come to this communion table reflecting on the waiting, the rest in waiting. And we're in that moment right now. And as we take this communion, we're proclaiming the death of your son, Jesus, and we'll continue to do so, proclaiming the gospel. And we will keep doing it over and over as you've ordained, as you've told us to, as we look to the moment when he returns and we share in the table with him. And so as we begin this communion process, we look first to the bread.
which is representative of your son's body that was tortured, beaten, nailed to the cross, the punishment for our sin. As we take this bread, we remember you, Jesus. We remember your body with seriousness, but also with thanksgiving. Thank you for willingly going to the cross for us. Thank you for taking our place. It's in your name we pray. Amen. The Apostle Paul writes, For I received from the Lord what I also delivered to you, that the Lord Jesus, on the night when he was betrayed, took bread. And when he had given thanks,
He broke it and said, this is my body, which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me. Moving on to the cup, which reminds us that forgiveness has been secured. Sin has been paid for. Reconciliation with God has been made possible through the blood of Jesus. Let's pause and pray again for the cup. Dear Father, we move to the cup. It's crimson color of this juice, wine, representation of your son's blood, the blood that was shed, the atonement of sins, our sin, sins of the world.
There is no forgiveness. There's no atonement that could take place without sacrifice. And you loved us enough to send your son to be the final sacrifice once and for all. And Jesus, you willingly went to the cross, the nails in your hands and feet, the thorns on your brow, the wounds on your body taken for us. We thank you for shedding your blood, for our forgiveness and redemption. We ask this in Jesus' name, amen. Paul continues, in the same way also, he took the cup after supper saying, this cup is the new covenant in my blood.
Do this as often as you drink it in remembrance of me. For as often as you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes. In this moment, wherever you are, together, we have once again proclaimed the sacrificial death of Jesus through this observance, one that's continued among Christians for 2,000 years. This is an ordained component to our time of waiting, to rest and be with Jesus, anchored in what he has done and confident in what he will do when he returns.
Our time together is almost over. Where will you go from here? What will you do with the rest of your Sabbath Sunday? You've got a few days before the New Year's festivities, so how will you intentionally rest? How will you intentionally wait? As you move through the rest of this Sabbath Sunday, don't rush to fill the time. Let the quiet remain open long enough for God to meet you there. Schedule some alone time to rest, and if not later today, then maybe tomorrow. Begin by clearing the noise of distractions. Cancel or postpone what can wait.
Turn off notifications on your phone or turn it off altogether. Give yourself permission to stop and be alone. Then intentionally spend some time in silence, in the quiet and stillness. Listen to the Holy Spirit. Sit still long enough that it feels uncomfortable. Slow your breathing. Let your body settle. When distractions surface, don't fight them. Just release them to Jesus and return to the stillness. Slowly read through Isaiah 40, not to study it or analyze it, just to listen to the scripture.
Read it more than once if you have the time. Let the words settle into your heart. Then take a slow, unhurried walk. If it's warm enough where you are. No earbuds, no podcasts. Set your pace slow and let your mind wander. Pay attention to each seemingly random thought. Go there. Let them wander. At the end of the day, reflect on what God has revealed.
During each of these practices of rest, pay attention and take note of what God's revealing during all those times. At the end of the day, take that reflection and dwell on it. Write it down. Maybe ask God to give you more. Take note of your time of rest.
Part of why Sabbath Sunday is so important is that we're prone to forget. I know it sounds crazy, but we forget to rest. Or maybe that doesn't sound so crazy. We neglect waiting without distraction. We need distractions. I need distractions. And Sabbath Sunday gives us all an opportunity to pause long enough to acknowledge God's faithfulness throughout this past year and receive his presence before the celebrations and resolutions of the new year come rushing in on us. It also gives us a taste of what we could experience on a weekly basis if we wanted to. Maybe we should do.
If we don't learn to rest in the waiting on a day like Sabbath Sunday, it's going to be way harder when life speeds up back in the new year. We'll just carry right into what we've done before. We'll get back into the adrenaline and the anxiety of daily life. But if we, if you choose to rest in this moment, we can and will discover what Isaiah promised. To they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength. When we wait on the Lord, he renews our strength. And so as we come to a close.
Let's pray that this coming year would be marked by a deeper trust in God's timing, a willingness to rest without guilt, and a readiness to wait with an intention instead of a distraction. May we create space for God's Spirit to fill the quiet places that we usually rush past and discover again the strength that only He can provide. With that in mind, let's close in prayer. Dear Father, we confess that we're often better at striving than trusting, better at doing than waiting.
Teach us to rest in you, not just when we're exhausted, but as a way of life. As we step into a new year, help us resist the urge to rush ahead and instead to walk closely with you, one faithful step at a time. Renew our strength as we wait on you and form us into people who trust your timing, your promises, and your care. We pray all of this in the name of Jesus. Amen.
If you prayed to receive Jesus today or would like to connect with our church community, visit mountainview.church and click the connect link. If this podcast and radio ministry has been a blessing to you, please consider partnering with us or making a tax-deductible donation at mountainview.church. Thanks for listening to Mountain View Church Audio. Join us next week for more Christ-centered teaching from the wilderness city of Whitehorse UConn.