May 12th, 2025
by Stacy Long
by Stacy Long
Title: Nurturing Jerusalem: A Call to Comfort and Be Comforted
By Stacy Long
In the tapestry of prophecy and promise, Isaiah 66 paints a vivid picture of a new day dawning—a day that began with the advent of Jesus and continues to unfold in our present. This passage speaks of a new Jerusalem, not necessarily a physical city, but a spiritual reality embodied by God's people.
The prophet declares, "Behold, I create new heavens and a new earth, and the former things will not be remembered or come to mind." This isn't merely about celestial bodies being recreated; it's a profound statement about the shaking of worldly power structures and the establishment of God's new order.
In this new reality, God poses a rhetorical question: "Heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool. What kind of house will you build for me?" The Almighty, who cannot be contained by the vastness of the universe, then provides a surprising answer. He will dwell in those who are "humble and contrite of spirit, and who tremble at my word."
This revelation challenges our understanding of worship and relationship with God. It's not about grand temples or elaborate rituals. The Lord declares that those who continue in empty religious practices while their hearts are far from Him will find their actions detestable in His sight. Instead, God seeks those who listen, obey, and approach Him with humility and reverence.
The prophecy then takes an unexpected turn, using the metaphor of childbirth to describe the miraculous nature of God's work. "Before she goes into labor, she gives birth; before the pains come upon her, she delivers a son." This supernatural birth speaks of the instantaneous nature of God's promise fulfillment. He asks, "Do I bring to the moment of birth and not give delivery?" affirming His commitment to complete what He starts.
But perhaps the most striking and tender imagery comes next. The new Jerusalem—which we understand to be the people of God—is portrayed as a nursing mother. "Rejoice with Jerusalem and be glad for her... you will nurse and be satisfied at her comforting breasts; you will drink deeply and delight in her overflowing abundance."
This metaphor is rich with meaning. It speaks of nurture, comfort, sustenance, and intimacy. As the church, we are called to be both the nurturing mother and the nursed child. We are to provide comfort and nourishment to others while also receiving the same from our fellow believers and ultimately from God Himself.
The imagery continues, "As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you; and you will be comforted over Jerusalem." Here, God compares Himself to a mother, carrying His children on His hip, bouncing them on His knee. This tender picture of God's care for His people invites us into a deep, intimate relationship with our Creator.
This passage challenges our often-rigid notions of gender roles in spirituality. Men are called to embrace the nurturing, comforting aspects of their spiritual nature, while women are reminded that they too are "sons of God" in a spiritual sense. We are all called to be both givers and receivers of spiritual nourishment and comfort.
In practical terms, this means creating a community where vulnerability is not just accepted but encouraged. It means being willing to confess our weaknesses, ask for help, and offer comfort to others. It's about creating a safe space where people can "nurse" spiritually—finding nourishment, belonging, and security in the body of Christ.
This concept of spiritual nurturing goes beyond mere emotional support. It encompasses the sharing of wisdom, the offering of encouragement, and the provision of spiritual sustenance. Just as a mother's milk provides all the nutrition a baby needs, we are called to provide comprehensive spiritual care for one another.
The beauty of this metaphor is its reciprocal nature. We are not divided into permanent caregivers and care receivers. Instead, we all play both roles at different times. This fosters a community of mutual dependence and shared vulnerability, reflecting the interdependent nature of the body of Christ.
As we reflect on this powerful imagery, we're invited to ask ourselves some challenging questions:
1. Am I humble and contrite in spirit, trembling at God's word?
2. Do I engage in religious practices with a heart truly devoted to God, or have they become empty rituals?
3. How can I better nurture and comfort others in my spiritual community?
4. Am I willing to be vulnerable and receive comfort and nourishment from others?
5. In what ways can I embody both the nurturing and dependent aspects of my spiritual life?
The vision of the new Jerusalem presented in Isaiah 66 is not a distant, future reality. It's a call to action for us today. We are invited to be part of this new creation, this spiritual Jerusalem, where God's comfort flows like a river and His glory like an overflowing stream.
As we embrace this calling, we become part of the fulfillment of God's promise. We become living temples where God dwells, nurturing mothers who comfort others, and dependent children who find our satisfaction in Him. In this beautiful dance of giving and receiving, we find our true identity as God's people and experience the joy and gladness that He intends for His new Jerusalem.
May we step into this reality with open hearts, ready to comfort and be comforted, to nurture and be nurtured, as we together become the Jerusalem that God is building—a place of joy, gladness, and divine presence in the midst of a world in need of His love.
(This blog was created from Stacy Long's original sermon using pulpit.ai)
By Stacy Long
In the tapestry of prophecy and promise, Isaiah 66 paints a vivid picture of a new day dawning—a day that began with the advent of Jesus and continues to unfold in our present. This passage speaks of a new Jerusalem, not necessarily a physical city, but a spiritual reality embodied by God's people.
The prophet declares, "Behold, I create new heavens and a new earth, and the former things will not be remembered or come to mind." This isn't merely about celestial bodies being recreated; it's a profound statement about the shaking of worldly power structures and the establishment of God's new order.
In this new reality, God poses a rhetorical question: "Heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool. What kind of house will you build for me?" The Almighty, who cannot be contained by the vastness of the universe, then provides a surprising answer. He will dwell in those who are "humble and contrite of spirit, and who tremble at my word."
This revelation challenges our understanding of worship and relationship with God. It's not about grand temples or elaborate rituals. The Lord declares that those who continue in empty religious practices while their hearts are far from Him will find their actions detestable in His sight. Instead, God seeks those who listen, obey, and approach Him with humility and reverence.
The prophecy then takes an unexpected turn, using the metaphor of childbirth to describe the miraculous nature of God's work. "Before she goes into labor, she gives birth; before the pains come upon her, she delivers a son." This supernatural birth speaks of the instantaneous nature of God's promise fulfillment. He asks, "Do I bring to the moment of birth and not give delivery?" affirming His commitment to complete what He starts.
But perhaps the most striking and tender imagery comes next. The new Jerusalem—which we understand to be the people of God—is portrayed as a nursing mother. "Rejoice with Jerusalem and be glad for her... you will nurse and be satisfied at her comforting breasts; you will drink deeply and delight in her overflowing abundance."
This metaphor is rich with meaning. It speaks of nurture, comfort, sustenance, and intimacy. As the church, we are called to be both the nurturing mother and the nursed child. We are to provide comfort and nourishment to others while also receiving the same from our fellow believers and ultimately from God Himself.
The imagery continues, "As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you; and you will be comforted over Jerusalem." Here, God compares Himself to a mother, carrying His children on His hip, bouncing them on His knee. This tender picture of God's care for His people invites us into a deep, intimate relationship with our Creator.
This passage challenges our often-rigid notions of gender roles in spirituality. Men are called to embrace the nurturing, comforting aspects of their spiritual nature, while women are reminded that they too are "sons of God" in a spiritual sense. We are all called to be both givers and receivers of spiritual nourishment and comfort.
In practical terms, this means creating a community where vulnerability is not just accepted but encouraged. It means being willing to confess our weaknesses, ask for help, and offer comfort to others. It's about creating a safe space where people can "nurse" spiritually—finding nourishment, belonging, and security in the body of Christ.
This concept of spiritual nurturing goes beyond mere emotional support. It encompasses the sharing of wisdom, the offering of encouragement, and the provision of spiritual sustenance. Just as a mother's milk provides all the nutrition a baby needs, we are called to provide comprehensive spiritual care for one another.
The beauty of this metaphor is its reciprocal nature. We are not divided into permanent caregivers and care receivers. Instead, we all play both roles at different times. This fosters a community of mutual dependence and shared vulnerability, reflecting the interdependent nature of the body of Christ.
As we reflect on this powerful imagery, we're invited to ask ourselves some challenging questions:
1. Am I humble and contrite in spirit, trembling at God's word?
2. Do I engage in religious practices with a heart truly devoted to God, or have they become empty rituals?
3. How can I better nurture and comfort others in my spiritual community?
4. Am I willing to be vulnerable and receive comfort and nourishment from others?
5. In what ways can I embody both the nurturing and dependent aspects of my spiritual life?
The vision of the new Jerusalem presented in Isaiah 66 is not a distant, future reality. It's a call to action for us today. We are invited to be part of this new creation, this spiritual Jerusalem, where God's comfort flows like a river and His glory like an overflowing stream.
As we embrace this calling, we become part of the fulfillment of God's promise. We become living temples where God dwells, nurturing mothers who comfort others, and dependent children who find our satisfaction in Him. In this beautiful dance of giving and receiving, we find our true identity as God's people and experience the joy and gladness that He intends for His new Jerusalem.
May we step into this reality with open hearts, ready to comfort and be comforted, to nurture and be nurtured, as we together become the Jerusalem that God is building—a place of joy, gladness, and divine presence in the midst of a world in need of His love.
(This blog was created from Stacy Long's original sermon using pulpit.ai)
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