Words like “neat” and “clean,” “heartwarming” and “lovely,” fit this morning’s Scripture lesson to a tee. This Word of the Lord from the prophet Isaiah is a delightful snippet of Old Testament poetry that commemorates what the Lord has done to save and sustain his people.
Problem is, its context is anything but a scene of blessed rest. These precious sentiments of divine praise and thanksgiving emerge amid a long, heartfelt prayer for deliverance – a community lament spread over two chapters of Isaiah.
Just prior to this glad recital of salvation stands a bloody picture of the Lord coming to judge all the nations who oppose and oppress his chosen people. The other bookend is bloody punishment for the evil ways and actions of God’s people. The prophet Isaiah is reminding a humbled and restored Israel of all the much-needed, but undeserved kindness that God has shown them over the centuries.
Isaiah credits that lovingkindness to the presence of angels and rather likens such grace, in my mind anyway, to a piggy-back ride. I’ll unpack that in a bit, but for now, listen to the Word that God has spoken. Listen even if you don’t fully understand, as Isaiah declares –
I will tell of the kindnesses of the LORD, the deeds for which he is to be praised, according to all the LORD has done for us – yes, the many good things he has done for Israel, according to his compassion and many kindnesses. He said, “Surely they are my people, children who will be true to me.” And so he became their Savior. In all their distress he too was distressed, and the angel of his presence saved them. In his love and mercy he redeemed them; he lifted them up and carried them all the days of old. (Isaiah 63:7-9 NIV)
The intermingling of divine toughness and tenderness – memories of God’s love mixing with God’s wrath – challenge our faith and tempt the shaving off of Scripture’s rough edges. How can a loving God also be so violent? Perhaps the plot of the movie “Taken” helps resolve the crisis of faith.
Starring Liam Neeson, “Taken” is an exceedingly violent film about a one-time Army Green Beret turned CIA agent, whose lovely but vulnerable teenage daughter is kidnapped by sex traffickers while she is vacationing in Europe. When the girl drops the phone on which she has been talking to her dad, the kidnapper picks it up. Neeson’s character, Bryan Mills, hears the kidnapper breathing and demands his daughter’s release. “If you do, I will forget about this and let you go. If you don’t, I will find you and kill every one of you.” The sneering kidnapper laughs and says, “Good luck.”
Well, this anguished father doesn’t need luck. He employs his stealthy training and clandestine experience with lethal results. In the end, every single member of the sex trafficking gang is dead, and the determined father frees his daughter. The final scene captures a sobbing daddy holding his daughter in the loving arms of relief.
If you’re squeamish, I don’t recommend watching the movie. But its plot raises a moral question for both fathers and mothers: How far would you go to save your children from mortal danger? Would your intense love stir violent action?
If a sinful father with special skills would risk his life to save his kidnapped daughter, how much more would a holy Father risk violence to rescue and restore his foolish, sinful children? Apparently, given the grim scenes of judgment and vengeance before and after our lesson, God will pull no punches. No means of deliverance are off the table.
Perhaps it’s easier to wrap your head around the last verse of our lesson – that tender image of a father lifting up a little and carrying that child on a long journey. Remember, as a child, being tired, sad, or hurt, and daddy bends down, scoops you up, and piggybacks you on his strong shoulders? So also with God our Savior: the Lord eagerly wraps little children in his arms and blesses them, even when the kids have been very naughty.
We are saved, as it turns out, because “God so loved the world” (John 3:16), even though our sin and brokenness breach the boundaries of being lovable. When talk of God’s wrath upon evil and Jesus’s suffering on the Cross tightens the gut and braces the mind, Isaiah reminds that God’s fierce love and liberating mercy drive the whole enterprise of salvation!
God abides with us not just as an encourager of better times ahead but so also as a fellow mourner who warmly embraces the brokenhearted, a liberating parent who never flinches when evil messes with God’s people or schemes to mess up God’s plans.
And here’s the difference that makes God so good and great: Where we are crushed, God is not overcome. Where fear cripples the human spirit, God charges ahead with redemption. Where you and I see life’s end, God envisions life’s new beginning. To the one who frets “this can’t be the end,” God confirms that it isn’t. And it is through such hopeful assurance – in Christ who everlastingly lives and loves in and through the Holy Spirit – that you and I can face every tomorrow.
It is precisely as Isaiah declares: “The angel of his presence saved them.” Indeed, sometimes we entertain angels unaware; other times, the Holy Spirit calls and empowers us to be the ones doing the entertaining. For among heaven’s many mysteries are physical rescue and spiritual relief through the work of human hands. And thus we sing –
We will work with each other, we will work side by side;
And we’ll guard human dignity and save each one’s pride.
And they’ll know we are Christians by our love.
Yes, they’ll know we are Christians by our love.
The Word of the Lord. Thanks be to God.
Pastor Grant M. VanderVelden shared this message during worship on Sunday, July 27, 2025, at First Presbyterian Church in Waukon, Iowa, USA. Scholarship, commentary, and reflection by Derek Caldwell, Scott Hoezee, Stan Mast, and Stephen Reid inform the message.