Day twelve - A word in time

Awake, awake, put on strength, O arm of the Lord!

Awake, as in days of old, the generations of long ago!

Was it not you who cut Rahab in pieces, who pierced the dragon?

Was it not you who dried up the sea, the waters of the great deep;

who made the depths of the sea a way for the redeemed to cross over?

Isaiah 51:9-10

Memory is a powerful thing. A traumatic memory can destroy a life, or even a family, or a nation. But we love marking the significant moments in our lives, celebrating anniversaries, reminding ourselves of those occasions that have shaped our lives long into the future.

Chris (my husband) and I made the mistake of generating a powerful memory, many years ago, on a day that only comes round once every four years. Yes, we proposed to each other on a leap day. After all, we had been an item for nearly two months, which seemed like ages! And we agreed that we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together.

So last year, as it was a leap year, we planned a ‘secluded space’ of our own, a quiet dinner in a restaurant by the river in Bedford, to cherish that memory, and the years since. The river looked lovely, the trees glowing with lights, and the light shimmering on the water. Of course, we had no idea what was coming, or that that evening would create its own memory, and hold its own poignant promise.

The power of memory is that it gathers time together. We reach back to touch the past, but also forward, because memory holds promise in its hands.

In our Bible passage, from Isaiah 51, the prophet recalls two very powerful stories in the life of the people of Israel. The first is an actual memory, passed down through the generations. The people were on the run from their Egyptian slave masters, desperately seeking to reach the wilderness, through which God had promised to lead them. Suddenly their way was blocked by the impassable barrier of the Red Sea. Pharaoh’s army was behind them, and the sea ahead of them. They appeared to be out of options.

But, miraculously, God opened the way through the waters, and ‘made the depth of the sea a way for the redeemed to cross over’. (Exodus 14:21-22)

And this recalled a greater wonder, known only in the telling, when at the dawn of creation, the waters which covered the earth, were divided, and, for the first time, dry land appeared, so that the earth became habitable. (Genesis 1:9-10)

Isaiah uses these stories to comfort and encourage the people of Israel, who were once again stuck in a seemingly desperate situation, in exile, and with no way back home. What the prophet does is to reach back to significant moments in the life of the people and their God. Remember! when life seemed as impossible as this! Remember what God has done.

And here is the promise: (Isaiah 51:11 - count the number of times the future ‘shall’ appears!)

So the ransomed of the Lord shall return,

and shall come to Zion with singing;

everlasting joy shall be upon their heads;

they shall obtain joy and gladness,

and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.

Since that lovely evening, which Chris and I shared a year ago, the world has descended into chaos. Our health services have come within an ace of being overwhelmed. All of us have been affected by illness, our own or others’ and scarcely anyone has been untouched by the unexpected, even astounding, death of people close to us, among the hundreds of thousands who have died. All the normal human contact, from the casual handshake to the comfort of family and friends, has been taken away. Our children’s education, our working lives - for many, their very livelihoods and employment, have been completely disrupted.

And in our churches, Easter, then Christmas, then potentially another Easter, along with the whole of our church lives, have changed out of all recognition.

Isaiah was writing to the people of Israel in exile from all that was familiar, removed from their own land and taken off to Babylon. And it was out of that suffering that the Hebrew prophets delved into their collective memory, to envisage new promises for a completely transformed future: the power of God’s Spirit to bring justice and joy, a world in which the poor would be treated fairly, in which people would live in their own homes, and nations would no longer make war, when creation itself would be renewed.

In a moment of prayer:

hold a precious memory in your own mind for a moment

feel the impact of its emotions

trace the way that memory has shaped your life and, maybe, the life of someone close to you.

Then touch and feel the promise of God in the remembering

give thanks, and open your heart to God’s transforming power.

Lastly, make your own promise, to open that transformation to others

your part in God’s future, God’s new creation.

Amen.

Janet Wootton