Isaiah 40:1-11. "How Can I Comfort Someone?"

How can you give comfort to someone? Is it by providing a distraction, action, or a sense of compassion? What can you specifically do to comfort someone? The answer we should actually ask is: How does God comfort someone? In Isaiah 40 verses 1-11, we find the answer. This episode goes into depth explaining the general sorts of comfort one may try to provide especially once encountering a life—threatening situation. We sometimes believe that the world will stop functioning if we ought to die but fail to understand, all life and comfort is grounded in God. Lets us dive into this message as we hear God speaking his truths into our hearts!

This Sunday sermon, based on Isaiah 40 verses 1-11, was preached at Grace of God Lutheran Church on December 3, 2023. Scripture selections come from the New International Version.

Our services are at 9:30am every Sunday morning, at our campus in Dix Hills on Long Island. Visit our website for more information, at www.graceofgod.church

Transcript

Peace to you in Jesus’ name, friends. Amen.
What does it mean to “comfort” someone? If you give someone who’s upset a pat on the back
- “there, there” - have you comforted them? If you share with them your own trials and
struggles, have you comforted them? If you distract them, to take their mind off their situation,
have you comforted them?
All of those things can bring us some comfort. Even if all someone can offer you in the moment
is a pat on the back, maybe a hug, simply knowing that they care about you can bring comfort.
I’ve often been comforted by having someone share with me their own struggles. It can be
comforting to know that you aren’t alone in a hardship. And even distraction can be a useful,
positive way to comfort someone. It’s why children’s hospitals have clowns walk around, or
even visiting athletes, celebrities, to see patients. There’s nothing in particular wrong with any
of those comfort tactics.
But they don’t always work, do they? I know there have been times where I don’t particularly
want to hear someone else’s story of suffering and hardship. I don’t want a hug. I don’t want to
be distracted. Times where I simply want the situation - whatever it is - to be over.
The ultimate comfort that someone can experience is having what troubles them end. There is
nothing more truly comforting than pain, deprivation, sadness, concluding.
In what we read today from Isaiah the prophet, this is the comfort that God shares. Verse one,
“Comfort, comfort my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and
proclaim this to her.” God is speaking here to his servants the prophets; the preachers of the
Old Testament. And here is the comfort-message they are supposed to share: “Her hard
service has been completed. Her sin has been paid for. She has received from the
LORD’s hand double for all her sins.”
God’s comfort for his people is not distraction, or simple presence. It is, he says, a public
announcement. “What was troubling you has ended.”
What was troubling God’s people? What we read was written by the prophet Isaiah, a man
who lived seven hundred years before Jesus. About twelve hundred years before Jesus, the
people of Israel came into the land we know as Israel. God had promised them that they would
possess that land, and that the Savior of the world, whom he had promised Adam and Eve he
would send, would be born in that land among their descendants. So Israel was planted in that
land, by God’s blessing, and became a kingdom under good King David.

But by the time of Isaiah, Israel was no longer a united nation. They had fought a civil war
centuries before Isaiah lived, which divided them into two separate kingdoms. Israel was a
nation made up of twelve tribes, all descended from the twelve sons of Jacob. In that civil war,
the ten tribes who lived in the north of the country split off from the two tribes in the south. The
northern ten tribes continued to call themselves “Israel,” and the southern two tribes, Judah
and Benjamin, simply called themselves “Judah.” Isaiah lived in the south.
Although the northern tribes kept the name “Israel,” Judah had the stronger claim to being the
true “Israel.” Their kings were all actual descendants of David. The north was ruled by a
succession of outsiders, and suffered from continual turmoil as new claimants would arise,
rebel against the current ruler, and take the throne. Still, the northern kingdom tended to have
more military and economic strength. They tended to be bigger players on the world stage.
But both kingdoms suffered from the same problem. Over and over, kings arose - both Davidic
kings in Judah and outsiders in Israel - who led their people to worship other gods. At times the
kings merely permitted such worship; at times they encouraged it; at times they even tried to
suppress worship of the true God. This happened in both kingdoms, but it was worse in Israel.
Eventually, God had enough. During Isaiah’s lifetime, while one of Judah’s best kings
(Hezekiah) ruled in the south, God allowed the Assyrian empire to defeat the northern
kingdom. All ten tribes of the north were taken out of their land, and we honestly have no idea
where they ultimately all went. There are ancient communities of Jews in central Asia - India,
China, Afghanistan - which claim to be descended from these tribes, but apart from their oral
histories we just don’t know.
This was a jarring moment for the southern kingdom. God had allowed his people to be carried
off. These were Israelites; Hebrews; blood descendants of Abraham, to whose offspring God
had promised the land would forever belong! And God had allowed them to be defeated,
deported, and dispersed to disappearance.
The best comparison might be someone learning of the sudden death of their slightly
estranged sibling. Perhaps they hadn’t talked one on one in some time, but they stayed in
touch. They knew what was going on in one another’s lives. Suddenly, one is gone. That was
the national experience for the kingdom of Judah. A sibling had suddenly died.
I want to push this metaphor a little further. What did the sibling die of? Well, both siblings were
lifelong smokers. The surviving sibling had kicked the habit. The other had not, and ultimately
died of an aggressive throat cancer.
For Israel and Judah, their smoking was idol-worship. And while, under good King Hezekiah,
Judah had kicked the habit for the time being, the demise of Israel shook them deeply.

Israel’s last king, Hoshea, was an idol-worshiper, but the Bible specifically tells us that he was
not the worst of the kings. Hezekiah’s father, one the other hand (Ahaz of Judah), was one of
the absolute worst. Judah knew that they teetered on a knife’s edge. Even if not one of their
future kings managed to be quite as bad as Ahaz, they now knew that that was no guarantee
of their safety. Assyria was pressing against Judah once more, and had captured some of their
northern settlements. They had stopped smoking, but cancer scans were indicating growth.
I gotta step back a bit here. Because I’m doing something that’s easy for me, as a preacher.
Telling Bible history. Giving context, and filling in gaps. But I told you this was going to be a
sermon about how to comfort people. And honestly, I’m sure you’re much more interested in
that than in Old Testament history. Because you, undoubtedly, have people in your lives who
need comfort. People who, like Judah, are scared of the future. Shaken, because a sibling
died; worried, because they lost their job; anxious, because the news has convinced them that
America is about to fall down around our ears. How can we give comfort?
As I said before, sometimes comfort doesn’t need to be more than taking someone’s mind off
the present. Or simply being with them. Or sharing your struggles. All helpful, in the right
circumstance. But what do we do when people need more comfort than that?
God gives us something to say, starting at verse six. “A voice says, ‘Cry out.’ And I said,
‘What shall I cry?’” This flows out of the first command in this section; “Speak comfort.” Isaiah
wants to know, “What should I cry out as words of comfort?” Here are specific words we can
use to comfort: “All people are like grass, and all their faithfulness is like the flowers of
the field. The grass withers and the flowers fall, because the breath of the LORD blows
on them. Surely the people are grass. The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the
word of our God endures forever.”
Part of what Christians offer as comfort is recognition of the reality of death. This isn’t the
comfort everyone needs in every moment. If you have a sick kid at home who’s going to get
better, but just feels crummy at the moment, give ‘em chicken noodle soup and a TV show.
Distract them. That’s the comfort they need. But if you’ve got a friend headed into major
surgery - a coworker who just confided in you that their marriage is ending - a child whose
disease isn’t going to get better - God tells us here that the words of comfort we can bring
them put death - the ultimate end - square in front of their eyes.
These same verses tell us to do so compassionately; with love. “Speak tenderly,” God says
at the beginning. But tenderness doesn’t mean being mealy-mouthed. Be clear and honest.
Here’s what that looks like, practically. Your friend going into major surgery is terrified that his
family won’t survive if he dies. Tell him he’s wrong. Lovingly, gently; but firmly, clearly. “No,
they’ll survive. They’ll be sad. And so will I! We love you. You’re important to us. But our lives
will go on. Because we know this - and you know it too. Everyone dies.” Those are the first
words of the comfort God gives Isaiah to hand over. “People are grass. Grass withers.”

But it’s the last words of that comfort section which really matter. Because if you just stop
there, you’re an atheist. The only “comfort” an atheist can offer is the thought that the universe
will die someday, too, so we might as well accept it ourselves. Not the Christian. Not the
Christian. The Christian gets to offer this thought: “Grass withers and the flowers fall, but
the word of our God endures forever.”
The word of God which endures forever holds out promises to us. He promises that as he
feeds the birds of the air, so he’ll feed us each day. He promises that as he clothes the flowers
of the field, he’ll clothe us each day. And if your friend is a believer, push those into them. “Will
you dying stop God from keeping his promises?” If they aren’t a believer, ask them to be
honest: Have they, in every single moment, been the sole guarantor of their family’s health and
wealth? They have not, and there’s no good reason for them to claim that title now.
Isaiah pictures our providing, guarding God in the last verses of this text. He’s a shepherd,
Isaiah says, holding little lambs close to his heart; gently leading ewes with their young. These
are families. And God, Isaiah says, will provide for these families. They are under his care.
Those promises are important. But maybe your friend is worried not just for his loved ones, but
for himself. He is afraid of death. Reasonable.
Well; it would be reasonable. But in light of the God who came to earth, just as Isaiah predicted
and John preached, it’s not reasonable. God came down to earth and died and rose. And he
promises that because of his love - that reason, and that reason alone - he will raise you, your
friend, me, from death to be with him forever.
In light of that promise, it is not reasonable to fear death. What power does it have? Your death
will not keep God from providing for those you leave behind. Your death will not keep you from
God. Death serves his purposes now. And your death - far from being final - is the means by
which he will bring to an end the suffering and pain, the cancers and the fears, of this life.
Hear what Peter said in our second reading: “In keeping with God’s promise we are looking
forward to a new heaven and a new earth, where righteousness dwells.” We are looking
forward to leaving the world as it is and dwelling in the world as it will be. That’s the world
which will exist after the resurrection. You, me, your friend, your family; living with God, seeing
his face; delighting in him forever.
How do you comfort people? Sometimes you distract them. That’s fine. But the real comfort
you can offer is telling them about the end. Their end (their own death); the end of all things;
and the end of fear, and worry, and sadness, and pain. The resurrection. Tell them, “You dying
will only be the end of the world for you. But you don’t need to be afraid of the end of the
world.” Amen.