Scripture: Isaiah 49:1-7 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)
The Servant’s Mission
49 Listen to me, O coastlands;
pay attention, you peoples from far away!
The Lord called me before I was born;
while I was in my mother’s womb he named me.
2 He made my mouth like a sharp sword;
in the shadow of his hand he hid me;
he made me a polished arrow;
in his quiver he hid me away.
3 And he said to me, “You are my servant,
Israel, in whom I will be glorified.”
4 But I said, “I have labored in vain;
I have spent my strength for nothing and vanity;
yet surely my cause is with the Lord
and my reward with my God.”
5 And now the Lord says,
who formed me in the womb to be his servant,
to bring Jacob back to him,
and that Israel might be gathered to him,
for I am honored in the sight of the Lord,
and my God has become my strength—
6 he says,
“It is too light a thing that you should be my servant
to raise up the tribes of Jacob
and to restore the survivors of Israel;
I will give you as a light to the nations,
that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.”
7 Thus says the Lord,
the Redeemer of Israel and his Holy One,
to one deeply despised, abhorred by the nations,
the slave of rulers,
“Kings shall see and stand up;
princes, and they shall prostrate themselves,
because of the Lord, who is faithful,
the Holy One of Israel, who has chosen you.”
The Door to Happiness Opens Outward
Our scripture reading from Isaiah is part of what we often call the Servant Songs. They are poetic, mysterious, and deeply challenging passages from the Book of Isaiah interspersed throughout chapters 42-52. The “servant of YHWH” - Yahweh (the identify of which is varied based on different religious traditions), this servant is called by God, shaped by God, and sent by God—not for self-splendor, but for the sake of others. In modern Judaism, interpretation describes the servant of the Lord as the nation of Israel itself. Christians traditionally views the servant as Jesus Christ.
Isaiah 49 suggests a higher calling – and the intimate care that God bestows upon the one whom God calls – whomever the servant of the Lord may be. As such, we hear the servant is called to mend what is broken and to gather what has been scattered. I find myself wrestling with trying to contain and mend broken and scattered pieces of our world and my own heart these days. This is tedious, relational work…work that requires patience, listening, and humility (not to mention a great deal of energy). It is very introspective, personal, and emotional work. So why then does the title of this sermon suggest stepping out? “The Door to Happiness Opens Outward.” That, my friends, is a good question.
Sometimes in my worship planning, I build out sermon ideas weeks in advance in order to create the next month’s newsletter or weave liturgical themes into place. In doing so, I often title a sermon before it’s even written, simply based on a quick overview of the scripture I have selected. And then comes the moment of truth, when I begin writing the sermon…I find myself thinking “Where did I come up with that sermon title?” I must have had a great epiphany weeks ago, but now it is clear as mud. So, baffled and confused, I begin crafting the sermon in hopes it will all come together. And the funny thing is…the direction I assume it will go; is seldom the path I travel in the end. It is almost as if God whispers a sermon title to me far in advance, to nudge me to go deeper into the unknown and share from a place of newness and discovery, verses certainty.
The Door to Happiness Opens Outward…is a quote credited to Soren Kierkegaard, a Danish theologian, philosopher, poet, social critic, and religious author often considered to be the first existentialist philosopher – one of the few Christian existentialists. Kierkegaard insisted that the most important work of faith does indeed happen inwardly, in the quiet place where a single individual stands alone before God. For Kierkegaard, true humility means abandoning the illusion that faith is about public recognition or visible success. The servant in Isaiah also embodies this inward faithfulness—called long before being seen, shaped long before being celebrated.
However, faith work, and embodying God’s teaching, takes many forms and individuals and communities facing difficult times and intense conflict also look to helpers for support and direction – outward expressions of faith. It’s easy during times of tension to become overly focused with our own struggles to survive – an inward-looking mentality (perhaps centered on my family, my people, my neighbors). This is understandable. However, as I spent more time learning about Kierkegaard and his work, I had a sense in his quote “the door to happiness opens outward” he was suggesting our opportunities for happiness do not come because we ourselves force them to happen. Are we banging on a door that does not necessarily open, because it’s familiar and safe? Afterall, we know where that predictible door will lead us. Rather, if we take pause and humbly invite God to partner as our guide, we take notice of new doors and fresh opportunities. Happiness and purpose may present itself in unexpected places.
Kierkegaard warned against confusing Christianity (the religion based on the teachings of Jesus Christ) with Christendom (the historical and cultural era when Christ-influenced societies, nations and institutions dominate Western civilization). He warned against assuming that popularity, influence, or institutional success are signs of faithfulness. In his words, “Purity of heart is to will one thing.” The servant wills one thing: obedience to God. Not success. Not admiration. Not proof.
Our founder, John Wesley, shared this conviction. He believed holiness was not measured by applause but by love—love of God and neighbor lived out through humble discipline and costly faithfulness. The servant’s task is to remain obedient even when the outcome belongs entirely to God.
As United Methodists, we believe faith is lived out through personal holiness and social holiness—loving God and loving neighbor. Our Social Creed states the following: “we commit ourselves to the rights of men, women, children, youth, young adults, the aging, and people with disabilities; to improvement of the quality of life and to the rights and dignity of all persons.” The servant’s task is always connected to the healing of the world, even when that healing happens one quiet act at a time. The creed goes on to say, “we dedicate ourselves to peace throughout the world, to the rule of justice and law among nations, and to individual freedom for all people of the world.” Let’s pause here for a moment and reflect on this as we listen to a hymn of restoration which speaks of this personal and social holiness (Special Music by Fred Crase)…
When God Restored Our Common Life (#2182 - TFWS Songbook)
When God restored our common life, our hope, our liberty,
at first it seemed a passing dream, a waking fantasy.
A shock of joy swept over us, for we had wept so long;
the seeds we watered once with tears sprang up into a song.
We went forth weeping, sowing seeds in hard, unyielding soil;
with laughing hearts we carry home the fruit of all our toil.
We praise the One who gave the growth, with voices full and strong.
The seeds we watered once with tears sprang up into a song.
Great liberating God, we pray for all who are oppressed.
May those who long for what is right with justice now be blest.
We pray for those who mourn this day, and all who suffer wrong,
may seeds they water now with tears spring up into a song.
This hymn was written by Reverend Ruth Carolyn Duck, a woman I knew nothing about until this week, as God guided my path in crafting this sermon message. I discovered she was an ordained minister in the United Church of Christ, and she was a liturgical theologian and professor of worship who taught for twenty-seven years at Garrett-Evangelical Theological Seminary in Evanston, Illinois (A seminary rooted in our United Methodist tradition). Reverend Ruth passed away a year ago, at the age of 78. She was best known as the writer of some two hundred published hymn texts and psalm paraphrases, and she was a pioneer in the use of inclusive language. Ruth’s sense of multiculturalism enabled issues of justice, equality, and care for God’s creation to shape her body of work which now enriches Christian worship worldwide.
Growing up in Memphis, Tennessee, Ruth was profoundly influenced by the ministry and assassination of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. She noted that his “I Have a Dream” speech shaped her understanding that justice is at the heart of Christian practice, which is the central theme of the hymn we just heard. How fitting we step into her ministry, and message of justice and equality on this the eve of Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. We may recall King’s proclamation from 1963: “Now is the time to make real the promise of democracy. Now it the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to make justice a reality to all of God’s children.”
Isaiah 49 and today’s message remind us that God delights in using servants, like Ruth, and Martin and Soren…and all of us. God works through humility, not self-importance, to open doors and bring our giftedness into the light. Let us not forget, God remains faithful, even when the servant feels weary and defeated. Embracing an outward-looking perspective can make a profound difference. Let’s continue to pan wide and take a God’s-eye view of our neighborhood, our county and our world. If we continue to open up the doors of happiness, by taking care of those with whom we share this precious existence, we may live into the servant song, as God intended.
So, may we listen for God’s call.
May we trust God is with us when the work feels unseen, and
may we serve with humility, knowing that God’s purposes are always larger than our understanding. AMEN