It’s a beautiful story, right? Everyone, come and luxuriate in rich foods and drink of clear waters! Whoever you are, whoever you love, wherever you’re from, and no matter how much wealth you have, this table is for you! You, who have spent your life and your earnings on things that just bring more pain and misery, I have great news! God says that there’s enough for all of us, and that it’s all going to be okay.

God, is it really that simple?

Because believe me, I love this hypothetical world, where money doesn’t matter and we all get to feast on delicious food whenever we want. I would desperately love to live in this world with all of you! But we don’t. We’ve got this one.

We’ve got this messy, beautiful, scary world that is filled with pain and joy and love and fear and every contradiction under the sun. And we’ve got war, and we’ve got hunger, and it costs nearly one hundred dollars just to throw a church ice cream party. And I love this world too, but you have to admit that it is pretty different than what Isaiah is describing in our scripture reading today. 

And, although I don’t like to admit it, I have more and more days lately where imagining a world of true abundance is just plain hard.

This has been one of those weeks. Beyond the walls of this sanctuary, I have found myself dealing with a series of plumbing emergencies, arguments with friends and family, restless sleep, and news about global war and destruction. As I sat down to write this sermon, despite my weeks of lofty ideas and detailed research, I found myself writing with a spirit of grumpiness and exhaustion. Envisioning a world full of wine and milk, without money and without price, felt too far out of reach to be worth the effort.

Spoiler alert for the rest of this, but I was wrong. Imagining a better, impossible world is always worth your time.

To understand why, let’s talk a little bit about the history behind our scripture reading today, and about the vision that we are hearing from Isaiah.

Specifically, we are hearing today from who is colloquially known as “Second Isaiah.” As you may or may not know, it is widely accepted by biblical scholars that what we know as the book of Isaiah was, in reality, likely written by three separate authors, during different periods of Jewish history. Isaiah 55 is the final chapter thought to be written by the second of these Isaiahs, and can therefore be read as a kind of synthesis of this prophet’s words as a whole.

The most important piece of historical context that we know about Second Isaiah is that he is living and working through a time period in which his community of Jewish leaders, scholars, and prominent religious figures, have been exiled from their homes and are living under Babylonian rule. Jerusalem is under foreign occupation, and the most important Jewish religious site of the time has been destroyed. Now, several decades later, Second Isaiah’s community would have found itself struggling to define its role in society, under-resourced and far from the home that they knew.

Although neither biblical nor historical evidence suggest that Babylonian society during this period would have been specifically oppressive or persecutory towards Isaiah’s community, there are two pieces that I want to note here which help us to understand the emotion behind today’s scripture.

First, although Second Isaiah may not be facing direct threat of violence at the time he is preaching the words we read today, the trauma experienced by his community, through war, forced deportation, and the destruction of homes and holy sites, still echoes in the air. Many of those hearing his words at the time would have witnessed these events firsthand, and I imagine that many of them would still be experiencing great grief and fear over these events.

Second, their spiritual community is undergoing great changes. With the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem, how Judaism was practiced began to fundamentally shift. Rituals and traditions that were no longer possible under circumstance adapted into new shapes. Community prayer and meditation became more commonplace, as alternatives to rituals that required temple attendance. The first synagogues formed, and there was a renewed emphasis on practices of Sabbath and kosher dietary laws as a form of resistance to cultural assimilation. 

Grief, fear, and forced change to traditions. An easy combination for a peaceful and stress-free life, right?

This is why Isaiah’s vision of an abundant life in God is fundamentally interesting. Because, it is not what his community is experiencing.

“Everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and you who have no money, come, buy and eat!

Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price… 

Listen, so that you may live.”

Are these words a comfort? Or are they a challenge? 

Because, as I said before, this chapter is the culmination of Second Isaiah’s message. And what is he really saying? Speaking from the perspective of the God we love, and who loves us beyond comprehension, what then is God’s vision for us?

God wants us to live abundantly. God wants us to be delighted by the world. And, in times when we are struggling, that is not always an easy message to absorb. But, I believe that the times when it is hardest to truly picture an abundant and bright future are also the times in which we are called to do exactly the same. Called to live with defiant joy, to laugh in the face of evil, to imagine abundance in spite of it all.

Which brings us to the big question: how? If we are called most into imagination in the moments where that imagination is the most difficult to access, how do we overcome that barrier?

I think that Second Isaiah and his community found a simple, yet profound answer to this question all of those centuries ago. Because their culture did not die or fade away under the threats of exile and assimilation. It changed, and it thrived. A community in pain grew into their circumstances, and found their resistance in abundance, joy, and hope. 

They found their imagination in God, and in each other. 

I think that it might truly be that simple. It’s the same message we get from Jesus a few centuries later, to love God and love our neighbor. It’s the same message I see over and over working here at First Churches, as I watch dedicated community members care for the sick, serve the hungry, welcome the stranger, and delight in the divine. 

As your church community coordinator, I feel so lucky every day to have a birds eye view over everything that our community is already doing to not only imagine but create abundant life for all. And, as our church grows, changes, grieves and thrives, I believe that we all must imagine new ways of being in church community with one another, to keep us strong and resilient against the forces of cynicism and hopelessness that can eat away at any one of us. 

Which is why you may have seen my email last month about our new, church-wide small group program, which Pastor Sarah and I are organizing. In short, we are encouraging everyone who is involved in our First Churches community to consider joining small, intentional communities that meet one to two times a month, for the entirety of this 2026-27 program year. Members, friends, family, whether you come every week or twice a year, you are welcome to sign up. Friends here from Edwards church today, you can join these groups if you’d like! All are welcome.

Each group will be thoughtfully matched by myself and Sarah, with the intention of facilitating new connections, connecting people with shared interests, and encouraging spiritual growth through community. As such, the more people who sign up, the better matched each group will be. Thank you to the [         ] of you who have already signed up and filled out the placement survey! These surveys will be available online and in Lyman Hall until August 16th for these fall groups, although we will do another round of placements for additional groups starting after Christmas. 

Now, I wouldn’t be talking about this, especially not during a sermon, if I didn’t truly believe that these groups will strengthen the bonds of faith and love that hold our quirky, messy, and beautiful community together. Like I said earlier, I’ve had a hard week. I bet a lot of you have too. But as someone who is fortunate enough to be immersed in this community every day, I speak from experience when I say that you all are the ones who help me see the abundant future that Isaiah describes. And I know you sense that in each other too. So let’s jump into something new together, and imagine the joy that we can bring to each other. 

Would you pray with me?

God, who knows each surface of our souls

Who knows our pain, our grief, and our longing,

You have given us the blessing of one another.

Since the moment you breathed life into Eve, you have promised us a world where we never have to be alone.

As we embark on a new year together, I pray that you give us the wisdom to see your divine spirit among us, and hear your voice speaking through each other’s words.

Give us imagination and curiosity, so that we may best learn from you and from friends new and old.

Let us strive to love each other as you love us, and to create a world in which we are all nourished in body and in spirit, relishing in your gift of abundant joy.

Amen