Waiting for God (Waiting for Arrival #4)

Back in November of 2019, I headed off on my annual spiritual retreat.

I’ve built this rhythm of taking off every November for two or three days. Part of it is simply unplugging and spending extra time in Scripture and prayer. But part of it is praying through and planning what I’ll be preaching over the next year — thinking through all the Sundays ahead, asking God where we are as a church and what passages we need to study to move forward.

So in 2019 I was excited for it. I got to the solitude cabin at Pine Lake Camp and had a great first day. I hiked around the lake at the state park. I spent time in the Scriptures. I’d brought a book along and got extra time in it. It was a genuinely good day.

Then Thursday I woke up, made breakfast, spent some time in Scripture, opened my laptop, pulled out my preaching calendar, and started setting things up.

And then I started crying.

It wasn’t because I was overwhelmed by God’s grace and goodness. I started crying because I had no idea how in the world I was going to find the energy to put together fifty-two more Sundays.

I knew I was tired going into that retreat. I didn’t know I was that tired. And suddenly I found myself wondering whether I was going to make it through the next year.

Asking for a Sabbatical

So I came back and confessed to the elders what had happened. I said, “Guys, I need more than another 48-hour retreat. I need more than a one-week vacation. I’m asking for a sabbatical.”

I’d been at this for eleven years. In Riverwood terms we were only about five years old at that point, but counting everything my family and I had been through, it had been an eleven-year journey. And I was tired.

So I said, “I need four weeks. Maybe six. Otherwise I don’t know if I’ll have the energy to continue — and I don’t want to quit, because I’m so passionate about what God is calling us to do.”

These men were incredible and generous. After praying about it, they came back and said, “We want you to take two months.”

So right there in November of 2019, we planned for June and July of 2020.

Little did we know a building would show up on our radar. I started wondering whether I’d have to set the sabbatical aside. And they said, “No. God called us to this sabbatical before the building came up. He knew about this. We’re going to trust Him. You take your sabbatical. We’ll keep moving the building forward.”

Then March of 2020 arrived, and you all know what happened. Everything shut down. And I started thinking, surely now I have to move my sabbatical — I need to stay attentive and help Riverwood through this.

And the elders looked at me and said, “You go away. Don’t come back until August. We’ve got this.”

And they did. The Sunday team and the elder team were amazing.

That sabbatical ended up being exactly what I needed. It’s what gave me the energy to come back and say, “Yes. I’m ready. Let’s keep going.”

I Didn’t Know What I Actually Needed

When I drove off to that cabin in November of 2019, I had no idea that what I needed wasn’t a 48-hour retreat. What I needed was a nine-week break.

And as soon as I got into that break — about two weeks in — it was like I could breathe again. I could think again. I began to have joy again. And I suddenly realized: this is what I needed.

Have you ever had a moment like that? Where you had no idea that was what you needed, but the second you received it, it was an aha moment?

It probably wasn’t a sabbatical. Maybe it was a drink of water — you had no idea you were that thirsty until the cup touched your lips and you couldn’t stop. Or maybe it was something deeper, like reconnecting with a friend. You had no idea how desperately you needed that conversation until it happened, and afterward you were so grateful. That’s what I needed.

What They Actually Needed

In our Advent series, Waiting for Arrival, we’ve been watching the ancient Jews look and long for a prophet, a priest, and a king.

They were looking for a prophet in the likeness of Moses. They longed for a priest in the order of Melchizedek. They wanted a king from the line of David.

But what they didn’t realize was that what they truly needed wasn’t just a prophet who would declare God’s truth. It wasn’t just a priest who could represent the people to God and God to the people. And it wasn’t just a mighty king who could overthrow the Roman Empire.

Deep down, what they really needed was God Himself.

Open your Bible to Lamentations 3.

The Saddest Poems You’ll Ever Read

Lamentations is a strange little book — a collection of some of the saddest poems you will ever read. They make a Taylor Swift album sound cheerful. It’s essentially ancient emo music.

Part of what makes it unique is that this tiny book is wedged inside the Major Prophets.

If you don’t know, the Bible is divided into sections. The first five books are the Pentateuch, also called the Law. Then the books of history. Then the books of poetry. Then the Major Prophets, then the Minor Prophets — “minor” not because they matter less, but because their books are shorter. They knew how to say things briefly. Isaiah and Jeremiah were more like me: they just kept going and going.

And smashed between Jeremiah and Ezekiel is this tiny book of poems.

You’d wonder why it isn’t with the other poetry books. It’s because Jeremiah wrote it.

Read Jeremiah and you hear his prophecies warning the people that if they don’t turn around and seek God, God will eventually send the Babylonians. And understand — God had been saying this through Isaiah, through Jeremiah, for something like a hundred years. It wasn’t that the people messed up once and God decided to spank them with Babylon. This was warning after warning after warning, over generations. And Jeremiah is one of the last prophets to deliver it.

Unfortunately, Jeremiah also has to watch his prophecies come true. Babylon invades, overthrows the people, and carries them into exile.

And because he’s a writer, he begins to write words like this:

How lonely sits the city that was full of people! How like a widow has she become, she who was great among the nations! She who was a princess among the provinces has become a slave. She weeps bitterly in the night, with tears on her cheeks; among all her lovers she has none to comfort her; all her friends have dealt treacherously with her; they have become her enemies. Judah has gone into exile because of affliction and hard servitude; she dwells now among the nations, but finds no resting place. (Lamentations 1:1–3)

And on and on the lament goes.

Imagine for a moment that a foreign army somehow leapt over every other state and landed in Iowa. They defeat our National Guard. They kill off half of our friends. They cart the rest away, and a handful of us are left behind to farm the entire land — and every bit of the crop gets shipped overseas to feed their people.

You’d be devastated. And if you were a writer, you’d start putting poems to paper. They’d be raw and emotional. You’d be weeping.

Which is exactly why Jeremiah is nicknamed the weeping prophet.

You’d also be wailing. Which is why, in the Septuagint — the Greek translation of the Old Testament, since the Old Testament was written in Hebrew and is often called the Hebrew Scriptures — the book of Lamentations is titled Wailings.

This is weeping. This is wailing. This is lamenting, because my friends and family and countrymen have been killed or carried away, and I’ve been left behind.

The Gem in the Dark

And right in the middle of this incredibly dark, sad poem, there is a light. A beacon of hope. A gem in the darkness.

That’s what we’re studying today — because I believe these verses not only reveal our longing for a prophet, a priest, and a king, but ultimately reveal our longing for God Himself.

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.” The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him. It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord. (Lamentations 3:22–26)

Heavenly Father, we’ve read these Scriptures, but it’s far more important that we understand them. Help me be a faithful teacher today — that I would say exactly what You want said, that this wouldn’t be about what I prepared but about what You want to say in this moment. And open the hearts and minds and ears of every person here, online, or listening later. Help them see Your heart for them and how You created them for union with You. May we then feel called to follow You and give ourselves fully to You — not because I did a good job today, or because we’re together in church hearing good music, but because You are God, You are good, You love us, You are for us, and You want us with You, because You made us to be with You. Help us learn that and be reminded of it now. In Jesus’s name, amen.

A Note on Acrostics

One of the popular techniques ancient poets used was the acrostic — where you take a word and each letter becomes the start of a line.

Kids love doing these for Mother’s Day cards. They write M-O-M down the side. She’s marvelous. She’s… outrageous. Clearly I am not a poet.

In ancient Israel, many of the prophets used the Hebrew alphabet this way. A couple of the psalms we studied this past summer — Psalms 34 and 37 — are acrostic poems. And the longest psalm in the Bible, Psalm 119, is an enormous acrostic.

Jeremiah uses this in Lamentations. In fact he uses it four times. Chapters 1, 2, and 4 are acrostic poems where each verse begins with the next letter of the Hebrew alphabet. The Hebrew alphabet has twenty-two letters — so if you look at your Bible, chapters 1, 2, and 4 each have exactly twenty-two verses. Interestingly, chapter 5 isn’t an acrostic, but it also has twenty-two verses.

But chapter 3 does something different. Rather than each verse starting with the next Hebrew letter, it’s every third verse.

Now, we can’t fully credit Jeremiah for the layout — the verse numbers and chapter divisions came much later. Honestly we should credit the people who went through and numbered everything. I’m grateful they did; it makes finding things enormously easier. I can say “turn to Lamentations 3:22” and you know where to go. Without that we’d spend half an hour just locating the passage.

But there’s something here, because chapter 3 stands apart. The others have twenty-two verses. This one has sixty-six.

Right at the heart of this book of weeping and wailing, we get this reminder — this bright spot — that God is with us.

The Longing for a Prophet

Look at verse 25: “The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him.”

A prophet is one who comes to declare — a spokesman for God. We opened this Advent series by seeing that the people wanted a prophet in the likeness of Moses, and that this is ultimately fulfilled in Jesus.

It’s no surprise that Jeremiah, a prophet, writes prophetic-sounding words. He’s declaring truth: the Lord is good to those who wait for him. This is how it is. Come see God. Obey Him. His prophetic role is coming out even here.

If you know Jeremiah’s story, in chapter 1 God calls him and essentially says, I will be with you, I’ll be for you, I will protect you. But by chapter 20 Jeremiah is thrown into a dungeon. He’s been declaring these prophecies — if you don’t change, Babylon is coming — and the people don’t want to hear it, so they lock him up.

And at that point Jeremiah essentially says, “God, back in chapter 1 You said You’d be with me.” And then he says that God’s word is like a fire shut up in his bones, and he cannot contain it.

He is a prophet who has to declare God’s truth. So even in his weeping and wailing, he declares it — because he knows that’s part of what people desperately want.

The Longing for a Priest

Now verse 24: “The Lord is my portion, says my soul, therefore I will hope in him.”

There is something in us that longs for connection with God.

The role of the priest was to represent the people to God and God to the people, because people want that connection. But there was also something in humanity that was frightened of God. He is powerful, so they came with a measure of fear. They wanted someone to step into the gap — to be a mediator, a kind of screen protecting them from the righteousness and wrath of God.

They want God. They want this “portion.” And they long for someone to stand in that gap. They’re longing for a priest.

The Longing for a King

But probably most of all, the people wanted a king — as we saw last week. I see that in verses 22 and 23:

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.

Those are probably the most famous words in all of Lamentations. Some of you know them because of the hymn. And some of you in this room are too young to know the hymn at all — which, I’ll admit, makes me feel old. In fairness, I looked it up, and it dates to 1974. So it is old.

But remember what a king does. A king provides direction. A king provides guidance. A king oversees the whole kingdom. You wanted a king so you’d feel protected.

And these verses function very kingly. They remind the people of God’s direction, God’s presence, God’s protection. Here they are, with their friends either killed or carried off, and they’re reminded that the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases.

God’s love did not end when Babylon came in. He still loved them passionately. He was still for them. He was going to return the Jewish people to the land one day. His love never ceases. His mercies never end. They are new and fresh every morning.

They needed that guidance. That protection. Those words of encouragement.

But What They Needed Was God

So the people would read these words and be encouraged, because they function a bit like a prophet, a priest, and a king.

But I think they declare something even clearer: what we need and long for isn’t merely a prophet declaring God’s truth, or a great high priest stepping into the gap, or a king who can lead us to war and win.

What we deeply and desperately need is God Himself.

And the people missed it. They didn’t realize it. They assumed they couldn’t come to God directly — and as they studied the Old Testament, certain things reinforced the idea that they were looking for a human, some great Messiah.

After all, it was God Himself who told them He would raise up a prophet like Moses. So they looked for someone from among the people who would rise up and declare God’s truth.

It was God who said He’d bring a priest in the order of Melchizedek. So they looked for that great priest to step into the gap.

It was God Himself who declared He’d bring a king from the line of David.

It’s just that never in their wildest dreams did they imagine God Himself would fulfill all of it.

Because it was God Himself who came and took on human flesh, became a Jewish man to live among the Jews, and rose up as that prophet like Moses.

It was God who came in human flesh and could therefore be the absolutely perfect priest — because He was fully human and could represent humans to God, and He was fully God and could perfectly represent God to humans.

And He was the one born a descendant of David, even born in Bethlehem, the city of David, demonstrating the right and authority to be that king. He simply didn’t come to overthrow the Roman Empire. He came to overthrow the empire of sin.

He was right in front of them the whole time. And they were missing it.

The Clues Were There

There were verses like Psalm 45:7, which describes a king — and then declares that this king is God.

Or Isaiah 7:14, which says the Messiah would be born of a virgin and named Immanuel — God with us.

Or Isaiah 9:6, where we learn about a child who will be given and a son who will be born, whose name will be Mighty God, Everlasting Father.

Or Jeremiah 23:6, where the Messiah is named “The Lord Our Righteousness.” Not “the Lord is righteous.” Not “the Lord brings righteousness.” He is the Lord our righteousness — God in human flesh, representing us, going to a cross to die for our sins and exchange our sin for His righteousness.

They longed for something. They needed someone. And never in their wildest dreams did they realize it was going to be God Himself.

They needed God to come, to heal, and to restore.

And So Do You

The same is true for you.

You may not be Jewish. You may not have watched your friends carted off to Babylon. Right now the greatest stress in your life might be that you still have Christmas shopping to finish and only seven days left.

And you still need God.

You need more than a prophet. You need more than a priest. You need more than a king. You need all of it wrapped up in the person of Jesus.

And you need Him more than Christmas presents. More than a promotion. More than an increase in your bank account. More than a solution to the health crisis.

All those things are good and genuinely needed. But they’re so often temporary. You get the relationship, and over time it brings new problems. You get the promotion, and over time it brings new complications. You get the solution, and then you discover another issue.

What you need first and foremost is God Himself.

And I think deep down you know this. I think deep, deep down you know that what you need more than everything on your Christmas list is God.

Did you catch it in verse 24? “The Lord is my portion, says my soul.” Jeremiah is saying that the deepest part of him — the deepest part of a human being — longs for God.

You were created for union with God.

Blaise Pascal, the great mathematician, put it this way: there is a God-shaped vacuum in the heart of every person which cannot be satisfied by any created thing, but only by God the Creator, made known through Jesus Christ.

You may think there are certain things you want. You may believe those are your genuine desires. But your soul — who you are at the deepest level — longs for God.

Two Invitations

If you’re not a follower of Jesus — if you have an awareness of God but you know deep down you’ve never fully given your life to Christ — my invitation is to let today be your spiritual birthday.

This season we’re celebrating the birth of Christ. I’d love to also celebrate your spiritual birth.

When people realize this story is true — that there really is a triune God who sent His Son, who took on human flesh and lived the only sinless life ever lived and then died in the sinner’s place on a cross — when they realize this seemingly crazy story is actually true, they usually mark the moment in prayer. Something like: God, I confess my sin. I’ve been separated from You. And now I realize You came to bridge that gap and bring me into relationship with You through Jesus. Thank You. And because Jesus gave His life for me, I’m going to give my life to follow You.

But some of you have already made that decision. You can remember the day. Maybe you prayed that prayer. Maybe you grew up in church and this is all you’ve ever known, and you’ve genuinely given your life to follow Jesus.

And yet if you’re honest with yourself right now, He is not your portion. He’s your side dish.

Yes, you’re here on a Sunday. You took time to connect online or listen to the podcast. And yet your life right now is filled with your schedule, your relationships, your to-do list — and God gets the leftovers.

But you were made for union with Christ. There is a God-shaped vacuum in you that will only be filled by Jesus.

God’s mercies are new every morning. He isn’t sitting in heaven angry that you’ve pushed Him to the side. He’s using today as a reminder and an invitation to let Him come back and be the center — to be your all.

Come to the Table

I can’t think of a better way to understand Lamentations 3 than to take these elements and receive them.

What better way to understand that the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases than to remember Jesus on the cross?

What better way to grasp that His mercies never come to an end and are new every morning than to see Jesus crucified in our place?

What better reminder that the Lord is our portion than to see that Jesus went to the cross to purchase us out of the clutches of sin, so that we could be His portion?

And what better way to be reminded that the Lord is good to those who wait for Him, to the soul who seeks Him — that it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord?

Except here’s the thing: we don’t have to wait any longer. Jesus has gone to the cross. Salvation is here.

If you are in that salvation, come and celebrate. If you need to repent, come and repent. If you need to pray and give your life to Jesus, do so.

Heavenly Father, I now ask Your Holy Spirit to do what only You can do. As we stop talking, may Your speaking begin. Say what only You can say to the hearts and minds here, listening, connecting. God, there is something deep within us that wants You and longs for You. I pray right now that our very souls would cry out to You, the living God. As we sing, as we pray, as we partake — be in this holy moment. Because this is all about You. About Your steadfast love. About Your mercies. About Your heart for us. In Jesus’s name we pray, amen.