Isaiah 55:1-13 · Invitation to the Thirsty
RSVP
Isaiah 55:1-9
Sermon
by David J. Kalas
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When you and I send out invitations to events we are hosting, we typically include at the bottom of the invitation certain initials. "RSVP" is what we customarily print at the bottom of our invita­tions. It's an abbreviation for a French phrase, which means, "Please respond."

It's always disappointing, of course, when someone we had wanted to include in an event is unable to attend. But at least we want to know. We need to know who is coming and who is not. It is common practice to ask people to respond to invitations. "RSVP" — please respond.

Some of the things that we get in the mail or that we pick up to read do not require a response. A lot of what we read is purely informational. Some is just for our interest or amusement. Some pieces of mail get almost no attention from us at all before we toss them into the wastebasket.

However, a personal invitation is different. It is not meant to be tossed away casually. It is not merely for our information or amuse­ment. It requires some response on our part. Someone is waiting to hear from us. They need to know: Are you coming or not?

As a gentle reminder, we put the initials at the bottom. "RSVP" — please respond.

Perhaps we should print those initials in our churches, as well. We sometimes do include other initials in our churches, you know. Perhaps you've seen a stained-glass window, an altar, or a cross in your church that has "INRI" or "IHS" on it. Like our RSVP, those church initials originated in other languages. The "INRI" is borrowed from the Latin initials for the phrase that was posted on Jesus' cross: Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews. The "IHS," mean­while, is an adaptation of the first three letters of the name of Jesus as it appears in Greek.

Likewise, we would do well to add these initials to our churches. It would be entirely appropriate to carve "RSVP" into our altars and our crosses, for we ought to be reminded continuously that God has extended an invitation to us and that he is waiting for our response.

The passage that we read together this morning from the Old Testament prophet Isaiah is an invitation from God.

We should be astonished that God extends invitations at all. After all, does a sovereign need to invite? Isn't it his prerogative simply to command, to summon, to give orders? The mere fact that God extends invitations to us at all bears witness to the kind of relationship he endeavors to have with us. It would be overstating the case, to be sure, to suggest that it is a relationship between equals. It is, however, a relationship in which we are elevated be­yond our merit; and one in which he voluntarily condescends.

The Bible offers us a variety of images to describe our rela­tionship with God. He is shepherd, and we are his sheep. He is a master, and we are his servants. He is the king, and we are subjects in his kingdom. Yet none of those authoritarian images for God quite captures the whole truth. For his communication with us is not solely orders and instructions: He also invites!

This is a testimony to how he created us. Namely, he made us free. If you and I were not free, he would not need to extend invi­tations to us. We would simply be programmed to come and go according to his will. But, in his sovereignty, he made the choice to create us as free and independent creatures, and in the process he limited his own sovereignty! He chose to make us in such a way that we are out of his complete control. We have the capacity to cooperate with his will or not.

So it is, then, that we are eligible to have a meaningful, love relationship with him and he assumes the posture of one who ex­tends invitations to us. So it is that we may respond to those invita­tions, or not.

We ought, therefore, to carve the initials into our altars and crosses: RSVP — please respond!

Here is our situation. God loves us so much that he wants us to love him back. To that end, he made us free. To that end, he conde­scends to enter into a relationship in which we might spurn his love. And, to that end, he extends invitations to us and waits for us to respond.

The image of God waiting for us to respond is portrayed poignantly in two New Testament passages. First, there is the mar­velous picture of Christ standing at the door and knocking, waiting for us to open up and welcome him in (Revelation 3:20). Second, there is the heartache of Jesus weeping over Jerusalem: "Jerusa­lem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!" (Matthew 23:37).

The first picture embodies the opportunity. The second picture raises the specter of missed opportunity.

For our purposes, that opportunity is expressed by the Old Tes­tament prophet Isaiah. Now the Old Testament sometimes gets a bad rap in the church. We tend to be more fond of our impression of God in the New Testament, while we caricature him in the Old Testament as a kind of supernatural grouch: angry, judgmental, and destructive. We do well, therefore, to correct that misappre­hension by seeing the kindness and generosity of his heart as ar­ticulated by this Old Testament prophet.

The invitation begins in the original Hebrew with a strange little word: a sad interjection that we variously translate alas, woe, ah, and ho. It is a word that appears about four dozen times in the Old Testament; all but one of which come from the prophets. The word amounts to little more than a sound: a grunt, a sigh. But that little sound conveys grief, lament, exhortation, and warning.

Thus begins the invitation from God through Isaiah. It is an invitation as broad and generous as Jesus standing at the door and knocking, yet as potentially sad as Jesus weeping over Jerusalem if we do not respond to that invitation.

The invitation is very specifically addressed: "Everyone who thirsts ... and you that have no money" (v. 1).

That sounds familiar, doesn't it? That is always the nature of the Lord's target audience, isn't it? He is, after all, the one who comes to seek and to save the lost. The physician who comes, not for those who were well, but for those who are sick. The shepherd who leaves the 99 in order to search for the one lost lamb. And the one who throws open his arms to those who are weary and heavy-laden.

It is here that God extends an invitation to those who are in need: the thirsty and the poor. We are reminded by his words to that people at whose door he knocked in Revelation that many folks may be in need — spiritually poor and thirsty — without fully realizing it (3:17-18). His invitation, therefore, is extended to a broader audience than we might have first suspected.

What precisely does he offer to those who are poor, hungry, and thirsty? He extends an invitation to receive freely the very refreshment and satisfaction that they so deeply need and desire.

Next, he broadens his invitation to an audience that may be close to home. "Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread," he asks, "and your labor for that which does not sat­isfy?" (v. 2).

He's talking to a lot of people, isn't he? A whole lot of folks who do not regard themselves as needy in the sense of being hungry, thirsty, or poor would admit, in a moment of vulnerable candor, that they have often spent their labor on things that don't satisfy.

Let us go out into the world — into our neighborhoods, our workplaces, our schools, and our stores — and let us ask for a show of hands: How many here are poor? How many are hungry and thirsty? We won't see many hands, but let us ask how many are unsatisfied, and then I suspect we would see a terrible, sad show of hands.

Indeed, we don't have to ask for a show of hands: We can already see how unsatisfied so many folks are. We see it in their restlessness and their discontentment. We see it in both the harm­less and the harmful ways that they try to fill their emptiness. We see it in their manifold means of distracting and numbing them­selves. Day after day, year after year, they've labored away, yet for that which has not really satisfied.

God has good news for them. He has good news for us! An invitation to come to the waters, to eat what is good, and to delight ourselves in something that really fills and satisfies. And, of course, it is all for free, for that is always the offer of grace!

The invitation continues. "Let the wicked forsake their way, and the unrighteous their thoughts" (v. 2). Ah, another familiar tar­get audience for the urgent exhortation and gracious invitation of our God. And what does the Lord offer to them? "Let them return to the LORD, that he may have mercy on them, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon" (v. 76).

We are accustomed to the gospel according to Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. Here we hear the gospel according to Isaiah. Eight centuries before the birth, death, and resurrection of Jesus, we al­ready see the gracious heart, the kind will, and the generous invita­tion of God. It is an invitation to those who are thirsty, needy, sin­ful, and unsatisfied. It is an invitation to turn around and come to him — an invitation to be welcomed pardoned, filled, and refreshed.

And all of it is his treat; all of it is at his expense.

So the only question is: Are you coming or not? Please re­spond! Amen.

CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Sermons on the First Readings, by David J. Kalas