The Holy nation – the proud and mighty product of David’s struggles – is now divided…and crumbling. Exile is coming for many. Oppression for most. And in the kingdom that is the southern remnant of the old Davidic kingdom, a prophet has his say.

The chosen people are now two kingdoms – Israel in the north and Judah to the south. Israel has more territory, but Judah has Jerusalem. The bragging rights of the capital – the privilege of the temple and all that goes with being religiously superior. This is the setting for Isaiah’s opening chapter.

This is not an exercise in nostalgia. The prophet asks the people to remember the covenant – the thing that binds them to God – and reminds them that they have let things slide

The prophet uses pretty stark imagery. ‘…rulers of Sodom…people of Gomorrah’ he calls his fellow citizens – this sort of talk is not exactly flattering to those who know their Scriptures. And of course, it gets worse. The prophet dismisses all ritual – all of the religious culture of this ‘chosen people.’ Offerings are meaningless. Festivals are hated events. God grows weary of listening to prayer – in fact, the prophet says God has stopped listening. This is a recipe for the wrath of God, right? Surely there is a flood or some brimstone on express delivery…A people – a faithful, God-fearing people such as lived in Judah – ought to be shaking in their sandals. Terrified at these words of judgement.

Once again, we imagine (from the safety of two thousand years or so) that fear must be God’s favourite motivational tool. (there is the promise of seeing that those who continue to rebel will be ‘devoured by the sword…’)

The prophet – as we have learned over the last several weeks – is not making predictions as such. They are reminding this faithful, ‘chosen’ people that actions have consequences – and that God is ready to let them feel the sting of those consequences.

The simplistic, irresponsible reflection on these consequences is to say “God poured out God’s wrath.” When in truth, humanity brings destruction on itself.

But, of course, it doesn’t have to be this way.

“¹⁶ Wash and make yourselves clean.
Take your evil deeds out of my sight;
stop doing wrong.

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom – or so it is written (Proverbs 9:10) But fear of destruction is something else. When we equate our destruction with God’s displeasure, bad things can happen to our image of God.

The prophet knows there is a way out of the trap we set for ourselves.

 Learn to do right; seek justice.
Defend the oppressed.
Take up the cause of the fatherless;
plead the case of the widow.

As it turns out, it is not difficult at all to ‘gain God’s favour.’ Do right. Seek justice. Defend the oppressed. Fight for the rights of orphans and the widowed. Straightforward, compassionate hospitality. Do this, and there’s nothing to be afraid of.

You would not expect that practicing hospitality would be a remedy for fear. We are more often inclined to build fences or lash out when we are afraid. Whether it is personal or on behalf of a larger group of people, fear usually bring out the worst in us. Aggressive. Protective. Destructive. That is our ‘natural‘ response. But the prophet knows that there is another way.

Jesus too, reminds his ‘little flock’ that they need not be ruled by their fear. And in his parable hospitality is once again the key.

Be ready – he says. Like servants waiting for their master to return. We think Jesus is simply talking about the obedience that a servant/slave owes the master, but that is not the case. The master (in this case) has been at a feast. They have been the recipient of someone else’s hospitality. And upon returning, rather than a parable about a master disappointed in the work that the servants have done while the master was away, Jesus suggests that the welcoming atmosphere provided by the servants (who never know when the master might return) can actually change the relationship.

“It will be good for those servants whose master finds them watching when he comes. Truly I tell you, he will dress himself to serve, will have them recline at the table and will come and wait on them. It will be good for those servants whose master finds them ready, even if he comes in the middle of the night or toward daybreak.”

The practice of hospitality – the preparedness, the welcome, the offer of welcome – removes the fear from the relationship. The master will serve. The servants will recline. All because the ‘servants’ turned their waiting into preparation – turned their worry into hospitality.

The Bible is a complicated collection of books – which together try to paint a picture of the failures and successes of the human encounter with the divine. And among the confusion of stories and histories – within the layers of poetry and philosophy – there is this premise: the path to something better requires a change of attitude. Fear of the stranger must be replaced with care for the stranger. Compassion is not weakness, but strength. And true strength lies, not in positions of power and authority, but in acts of caring and service.

We have seen what happens when we respond out of fear. Our neighbourhoods get quiet. We allow ourselves to trust few – and suspect all the rest. We holler for tighter immigration policies, or for more restrictive education guidelines (thinking we must protect ourselves and our ‘way of life – whatever that means). Wars and rumours of war all have their genesis in a fear of the other – a fear of losing ground or sovereignty or losing respect/power/influence.

But the prophet knew – and Jesus taught-  that there is most certainly another way…a better way.

Don’t be afraid – be prepared. Be ready to serve. Be ready to help. Be ready to care – to show compassion. Listen and try to understand. Offer relief. Share. Such is the pattern of holy living outlined in nearly every part of the Bible. And even now, it is not too late to see the reward of such behaviour.