Songs In The Night

 

61 The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me,
    because the Lord has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor;
    he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim liberty to the captives,
    and the opening of the prison to those who are bound;
² to proclaim the year of the Lord‘s favor,
    and the day of vengeance of our God;
    to comfort all who mourn;
³ to grant to those who mourn in Zion—
    to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness instead of mourning,
    the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit;
that they may be called oaks of righteousness,
    the planting of the Lord, that he may be glorified.
⁴ They shall build up the ancient ruins;
    they shall raise up the former devastations;
they shall repair the ruined cities,
    the devastations of many generations. – Isaiah 61:1-4

Fire

Yesterday morning, just after first light, I ventured into town to look at a pile of rubble.  No, I am not a dumpster diver.  I have no attraction to rubble.  But like a moth I couldn’t stay away from the light.  I had to make sure it was real despite my wishes that it wasn’t.

In a year filled with so much loss and grief, tragedy has struck again.

With tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat I parked my car on Main Street.  Along with my son I walked up to the yellow tape blocking the sidewalk and looked in disbelief at the pile of brick and mortar.  On top of the pile of brick rested a large steel beam.  Below the pile of bricks was buried the charred remains of businesses and a home.  Buried below the bricks was a lot of past history and future hope.

Fire is no respecter of the past, nor does it care about the future.

As I surveyed the scene, I wanted to rewind time just twenty-four hours.  The morning prior, two buildings graced Main Street where the rubble now lay.  Two buildings that stood sentinel for the better part of the towns history which began in the mid 1800’s.  A lot of hard work had gone into the construction of the buildings and the building of the businesses they housed.  Despite the best efforts of nearly twenty fire departments, one fire reduced them to the pile of rubble I couldn’t stay away from.

Boot

The loss from the fire will leave a void not only on Main Street, but in our family as well.  Not only was a family business lost, but also an apartment that served as home for multiple members of the family for years.  To a few of my siblings and their children the apartment was the source of many family memories.  For a couple of my nephews and nieces it was their first home.  Besides the sweat equity and financial investment put into the business on the ground level, there were a lot of fond memories associated with the apartment above it.

This was no ordinary heap of ashes I was drawn to.  This was a sight I had to see to believe.  Despite watching the blaze for hours the day before it still seemed surreal.  One of those events you know is real but you still have to make sure.  And when you are sure you wish you weren’t.

As the events of the prior day were still replaying in my mind I saw a little boot at the edge of the rubble.  A reminder of not only the tragedy that transpired, but the tragedy that was averted.  While the fire may have claimed a couple of old buildings and the possessions they contained, it did not claim any lives.  The family living above one of the businesses narrowly escaped the fire with their two young boys partially dressed.  As bad as the fire was it could have been worse.

The little boot was a timely reminder.  Some things can never be replaced.

Down

With my mother’s death this past summer, the fire was just another blow to the family.  As the fire ravaged, we helplessly watched the firemen fighting a hopeless battle.  As emotional as the scene was, it was most difficult on my father and sister.  My father purchased the building in the early 1990’s and my sister is the current owner.  The two of them, along with my deceased mother, had the most sweat equity in the business.  None of us were “ready” for another loss.  But how often are we?

Although I rarely go to the movies, I did see Batman Begins years ago.  One scene in particular has stuck with me from that movie.  After Bruce Wayne (aka Batman) laments to his trusty butler Alfred that he has failed, Alfred replies, “Why do we fall sir, so that we can learn to pick ourselves up.”

Whether we fall, or whether we are knocked down, we need to get back up.  Nobody likes to be down, planted on their backside, but the position can have it’s benefits.  While it is true that there is no place to go but up, I believe that more importantly, when we get back up we arise a different person.  Being down doesn’t have to be equated with being defeated.  Triumph can blossom from tragedy.

Seeds

Before my early morning trip to the rubble pile, I sent my sister a text reminding her that flowers grow in ashes.  When we are down we can rise up even stronger.  And instead of seeing the bricks on the ground as defeat, we must recognize them for what they really are.  Seeds.

We can choose to look at fallen bricks as defeat; the end of a run, or as seeds; the promise of a bright future.  The fire didn’t care.  The bricks are indifferent.  The choice is up to us.  Are we going to lament the past, or look forward to the future.  The future has my vote.

Before I left the scene of the fire, I crossed the yellow tape and picked up three seeds (aka bricks) and put them in my car.  I can’t rewind time so I decided to carry just a bit of the past home with me to plant for the future.  I am looking forward to the possibilities.

Ashes

The remains of the fire are just another reminder of spiritual truths.  When Isaiah penned the words quoted above, it is natural to imagine the comfort they might have brought to the Israelites in exile with Zion (Jerusalem) in ruins.  More rubble that was mourned over.  But their mourning would be interrupted by the Messiah.

To those who were “down”, the promise of the coming Messiah was good news.

When Jesus began His ministry He read from this passage of scripture in Isaiah and told His audience, “Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing” (Luke 4:21).  But the good news of the Messiah wasn’t just for Zion or the Israelites in exile, it is for you and me.

You and I were being ravaged by sin.  Like a fire within us, sin was destroying us.  Just as the numerous firefighters could not save the burning buildings, we cannot save ourselves from the blazing fire of sin.  There isn’t enough water in the world to do so.

Like the Israelites during the days of Isaiah, we needed One who was Anointed by God to save us.  We needed a Savior of new beginnings.  One who can bury the past and give us a new future.  Jesus is the only One who can replace our ashes of mourning with a beautiful headdress.  One that is worthy of being seated by His throne.

Oaks

Look closely at the words Isaiah used to describe those who were “down”.  Poor, brokenhearted, captives, bound, mourning and faint spirited.  From such despair, Jesus lifted us up.  And when He lifts us up, He makes us a new creation.

When death takes a loved one, don’t give into despair.  When a fire destroys your possessions, don’t deny the ashes.  Jesus has already defeated death.  He has already lifted you from the ashes of sin and made you an oak of righteousness.  Mourn for a little while if you need to but never forget, our Messiah has promised us His oil of gladness.

As painful as losses are, I am glad God is a God of new beginnings.  Like the boot lying in the rubble, the cross on Cavalry is a reminder not only of the tragedy that happened, but the tragedy that was averted.  Jesus died so you could live.  He died so you could wear a crown instead of ashes.

I am not sure what tomorrow holds, but I am guessing it can’t topple an Oak of Righteousness.  After all, we are rooted in Christ.