Write these things for the future so that people who are not yet born will praise the Lord. The Lord looked down from His holy place above; from heaven He looked down at the earth. He heard the moans of the prisoners, and He freed those sentenced to die. The name of the Lord will be heard in Jerusalem. His praise will be heard there. People will come together, and kingdoms will serve the Lord. (Verses 18-22)
The Lord God has put His Spirit in Me, because the Lord has appointed Me to tell the good news to the poor. He has sent Me to comfort those whose hearts are broken, to tell the captives they are free, and to tell the prisoners they are released. He has sent Me to announce the time when the Lord will show kindness. Isaiah 61
I am awed this morning that I am reading these words. Written centuries ago for me to see today. Even the psalmist had no clear idea then that not only did the Lord look down from His holy place to see the sufferings of men and women, but He also knew what He would do about it. There was a perfect time. A day He had in mind. On that day He said to God the Son, "It's time." To Gabriel, His mighty angel, God said, "Go tell Mary I have chosen her." And heaven played more loudly on the strings of its symphonies as angelic hosts filled heaven with praise. The spectacle to them that is our lives here on earth was approaching its apex. Perfect holiness was going to dwell in the womb of a young Jewish girl picked from before the foundations of the earth to mix her DNA with God's. To marvel for nine months over her growing belly and the words of an angel, "Listen! You will become pregnant and give birth to a Son, and you will call Him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High." An unusual star was placed in the sky, a marvel to the astrologers and astronomers who studied the heavens. The stage was set for the history of the world to change.
I don't know what the thoughts of the newborn Jesus were past wanting to nurse and perhaps crying through some colicky nights. Aware only as much as other babies that his needs must be met. But by the time He was twelve years old, His calling was clear. He knew then that the Temple was His Father's house. He taught there with such wisdom that the elders marveled at his preteen prescience. His fleshly life dropped more and more away as He neared His thirty-third year. Mary must have seen her Jesus do the miraculous before that day in Cana when He launched His ministry at her command to the servant at a wedding to do whatever He told them to do. There was no more wine. The celebration was spoiled unless Jesus did what she knew He could. Save things. Make a way when there is no way. How did she know her Son was capable of making wine in a moment?
Then the God Who looked down from heaven at the misery Satan wreaked on His creation met the enemy face to face. Tempted to be merely human. To crunch the fruit forbidden and ruin God's plan of the ages. Hungry Himself from day after day of denying Himself food and drink, the One Who disregarded His flesh in preference for His calling resisted Satan by the power of His own words. "It is written..." And the enemy fled in terror. Anointed and victorious, Jesus showed us how God deals with our captivity and pain. Spoke to our addictions and stripped us of our diseases. Because God is compassionate and caring. Because to show us He can heal our bodies reveals His power to also heal our spirits. We aren't captive only when we are behind bars. We are prisoners of whatever passion or pain controls our hearts and minds. The One Who can heal a crippled body can restore a crippled mind, mend a broken heart and forgive our heinous sin. Jesus came to reveal the heart of God.
Prisoners are usually in jail for the wrongs they've done. Some are wrongly accused and languish in the injustices of their incarceration. Paying for what someone else has done. But none of us is squeaky clean. All of us have sinned. Fall short of a perfect life. We all deserve to be punished. On His way to the cross via the triumphal entry into Jerusalem during Passover week, Jesus cried over the crowds who saw Him and yet didn't understand. "Oh, Jerusalem! Jerusalem! You kill the prophets and stone to death those sent to you. Many times I wanted to gather you people as a hen gathers her chicks, but you did not let Me." That rebellion had to be atoned. On a Friday afternoon. On a cross with criminals to either side bleeding with them for my crimes, not His. Beaten beyond recognition. Nailed to a cross made of the wood Jesus created, He bore the punishment for the prisoners we'd become. The cry from His crucible was, "It is finished!" Dropping flesh to be robed in splendor once more. Now the Lamb of God Who takes away the sins of the world.
Write these things down for future generations to read and give praise to Jesus. I was a sinner doomed to die and God Himself took my place. Sing it in a song. Rhyme it in a poem. Speak it to the crowds. Whisper it to the dying. Live it for your children. Write it with your life. We have been set free, healed and delivered now and forever more.
The Lord God has put His Spirit in Me, because the Lord has appointed Me to tell the good news to the poor. He has sent Me to comfort those whose hearts are broken, to tell the captives they are free, and to tell the prisoners they are released. He has sent Me to announce the time when the Lord will show kindness. Isaiah 61
I am awed this morning that I am reading these words. Written centuries ago for me to see today. Even the psalmist had no clear idea then that not only did the Lord look down from His holy place to see the sufferings of men and women, but He also knew what He would do about it. There was a perfect time. A day He had in mind. On that day He said to God the Son, "It's time." To Gabriel, His mighty angel, God said, "Go tell Mary I have chosen her." And heaven played more loudly on the strings of its symphonies as angelic hosts filled heaven with praise. The spectacle to them that is our lives here on earth was approaching its apex. Perfect holiness was going to dwell in the womb of a young Jewish girl picked from before the foundations of the earth to mix her DNA with God's. To marvel for nine months over her growing belly and the words of an angel, "Listen! You will become pregnant and give birth to a Son, and you will call Him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High." An unusual star was placed in the sky, a marvel to the astrologers and astronomers who studied the heavens. The stage was set for the history of the world to change.
I don't know what the thoughts of the newborn Jesus were past wanting to nurse and perhaps crying through some colicky nights. Aware only as much as other babies that his needs must be met. But by the time He was twelve years old, His calling was clear. He knew then that the Temple was His Father's house. He taught there with such wisdom that the elders marveled at his preteen prescience. His fleshly life dropped more and more away as He neared His thirty-third year. Mary must have seen her Jesus do the miraculous before that day in Cana when He launched His ministry at her command to the servant at a wedding to do whatever He told them to do. There was no more wine. The celebration was spoiled unless Jesus did what she knew He could. Save things. Make a way when there is no way. How did she know her Son was capable of making wine in a moment?
Then the God Who looked down from heaven at the misery Satan wreaked on His creation met the enemy face to face. Tempted to be merely human. To crunch the fruit forbidden and ruin God's plan of the ages. Hungry Himself from day after day of denying Himself food and drink, the One Who disregarded His flesh in preference for His calling resisted Satan by the power of His own words. "It is written..." And the enemy fled in terror. Anointed and victorious, Jesus showed us how God deals with our captivity and pain. Spoke to our addictions and stripped us of our diseases. Because God is compassionate and caring. Because to show us He can heal our bodies reveals His power to also heal our spirits. We aren't captive only when we are behind bars. We are prisoners of whatever passion or pain controls our hearts and minds. The One Who can heal a crippled body can restore a crippled mind, mend a broken heart and forgive our heinous sin. Jesus came to reveal the heart of God.
Prisoners are usually in jail for the wrongs they've done. Some are wrongly accused and languish in the injustices of their incarceration. Paying for what someone else has done. But none of us is squeaky clean. All of us have sinned. Fall short of a perfect life. We all deserve to be punished. On His way to the cross via the triumphal entry into Jerusalem during Passover week, Jesus cried over the crowds who saw Him and yet didn't understand. "Oh, Jerusalem! Jerusalem! You kill the prophets and stone to death those sent to you. Many times I wanted to gather you people as a hen gathers her chicks, but you did not let Me." That rebellion had to be atoned. On a Friday afternoon. On a cross with criminals to either side bleeding with them for my crimes, not His. Beaten beyond recognition. Nailed to a cross made of the wood Jesus created, He bore the punishment for the prisoners we'd become. The cry from His crucible was, "It is finished!" Dropping flesh to be robed in splendor once more. Now the Lamb of God Who takes away the sins of the world.
Write these things down for future generations to read and give praise to Jesus. I was a sinner doomed to die and God Himself took my place. Sing it in a song. Rhyme it in a poem. Speak it to the crowds. Whisper it to the dying. Live it for your children. Write it with your life. We have been set free, healed and delivered now and forever more.
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