“Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God, speak tenderly to her and cry to her that she has served her term, that her penalty is paid, that she has received double for all her sins” Isaiah 40: 1-2.
These words come to the people of Israel from the prophet and strike a note of hope and promise in the midst of prospects that seem to most to be bleak and unlikely to be resolved. They are spoken to a nation in exile. Following a war with the Babylonians that Israel had lost, the whole nation became prisoners of war and had been forcibly removed from their promised land and their great city, Jerusalem with its dear Temple. They were being held captive in the city of Babylon, the city that we now call Baghdad.

During those years of exile, it had not been bleak for everyone. They may have lamented the loss of their homeland and wondered how they could worship the living God in a strange land? You know the psalm, by the Rivers of Babylon we sat down and wept when we remembered Zion. But the people also enjoyed a degree of freedom and many had become successful street traders and merchants in the city, making themselves very wealthy. Many people forgot who they were and it was Isaiah’s task, as he saw it, to rekindle a spiritual imagination in the people and to remind them of their true vocation. For Israel was, of course, God’s chosen nation, a people set apart to be ministers and priests of the living and true God to the world.
In Isaiah’s vision a situation of despair is being turned around. The wasteland that is Israel and its great city Jerusalem is about to be rebuilt. The people are going to return home from exile. The places that have become crooked are going to be straightened out. All that has distorted and corrupted the people’s vision will be evened out and the people will recover their homeland and their true vocation because the Lord is faithful and promises to feed his flock, to gather his lambs in his arms and gently lead his people. A situation of austerity, ruin and hopelessness is about to be turned around.
Let me read for you now a piece of poetry that was written in the aftermath of the Great War.
Unreal City,
Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,
A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many,
I had not thought death had undone so many.
Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled,
And each man fixed his eyes before his feet.
These are words from TS Eliot’s poem the Waste Land, published in 1922. It is a grim reflection on the state of the world in the aftermath of World War I. So much was undone by that eruption of Barbarism. Right in the middle of hope, creativity, enlightenment, rationalism and the white heat of the Industrial Revolution, a period in human history that had witnessed one of the longest period of peace and prosperity and economic growth, and suddenly the heart of Europe was ripped out of it and the flower of its youth sacrificed in the muddy fields of Flanders.
This moment of devastation and loss clear to the bottom shattered so many dreams. But as Eliot writes, he goes on to sound a note of hope, a glimmer of promise like the faint slither of gold that heralds the returning sun on a bleak winter’s morning. “These fragments” he says, “I have shored against my ruins”. And he goes on,
Who is the third who walks always beside you?
When I count, there are only you and I together
But when I look ahead up the white road
There is always another one walking beside you
Gliding wrapt in a brown mantle, hooded
I do not know whether a man or a woman
—But who is that on the other side of you?
What is that sound high in the air
Murmur of maternal lamentation
Who are those hooded hordes swarming
Over endless plains, stumbling in cracked earth
Ringed by the flat horizon only
What is the city over the mountains
Cracks and reforms and bursts in the violet air
Falling towers
Jerusalem Athens Alexandria
Vienna London
Unreal
It is as though Eliot takes on the mantle of the prophet. Like Isaiah, he trusts that out of the rubble and destruction of a shattered Europe, fragments of light can be detected and out of a lost world things can be rebuilt. He perceives this in terms of a third person, like a companion or bread sharer, a shepherd like, shadowy figure robed in mystery who walks with us, even through the valley of the shadow of death, therefore we will not be afraid. The companion is like a mother, ever faithful in her love, lamenting for lost youth but utterly devoted in her presence, like Mary at the foot of the cross, holding her beloved in the warmth of her embrace.

We can reclaim our true identity. We can piece together the fractured fragments of our lives and the remnants of a shattered world. We can reclaim the Waste Land. In grim economic times for the world, in the midst of a world fractured by division and ecological threat, hope is a candle that people of faith must light.
It is the artists, the poets and the prophets and those who go on loving in spite of loss; it is the visionaries, those who speak the truth and refuse to buy into the easy slogans of the day and follow the crowd into cheap compromise. All these help us in the midst of our blunders, our blindness, our failed projects and even our despair. They can help us to re-find our true selves and our real vocations.
It feels as though we need a new vision for our world today. If all that our politicians can offer us is the gloom of years and years of austerity, we need an alternative vision. We need a politics reborn, a politics that has more imagination in it than that which can only equate well being with economic performance and gross domestic product. How is happiness faring? What about indicators of friendship, community and a sense of inclusiveness?
We need figures like the Mahatma, Ghandi of whom the South African authorities wrote when he was engaged in a campaign against racial discrimination long before he returned to his native India, “the working of his conscience, his ethical and intellectual attitude, based as it appears to be on a curious compound of mysticism and astuteness, baffles the ordinary processes of thought”.
We need people who will baffle the ordinary processes of thought, for the way of ordering our communities and our economies are as bankrupt as many of our economies. Vaclav Havel, the intellectual and former president of Czechoslovakia once argued for what he described as anti-political politics, “politics not as the technology of power and manipulation, as cybernetic rule over humans or as the art of the useful, but politics as one of the ways of seeking and achieving meaningful lives, of protecting them and serving them”. Love, friendship, solidarity, sympathy, mercy, tolerance and compassion, these, argues Havel are, “the only genuine starting points of meaningful community”. Even Adam Smith warned against the anxiety, fear, sorrow, disease, danger and death that would result from unfettered materialism and an unbridled capitalism.
What Isaiah understood and set out to achieve was the reforming or the reframing of the lives of the people of Israel who had lost a sense of who they were and what their lives might be in their time of exile. He realised that this must be a spiritual exercise, reconnecting with the ground of their being, a reconstitution of a people not as political pawns in a power game or as consumers or categories in some sham economy that was not their own, but a people located within a community in relation to each other, to their God (the one whose spirit gives life and breath), the world and the Universe.
And who is that one? Who is the third person who walks beside us?
When I count, there are only you and I together
But when I look ahead up the white road
There is always another one walking beside you
Hear the words of John the Baptist, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thongs of his sandals. I have baptised you with water, but he will baptise you with the Holy Spirit”. (Mark 1: 7 – 8).
Christ is coming, he will come again, he is in you and through you and with you, he is that mysterious companion that you often feel walking with you on life’s journey, in the midst of its pain and in its moments of exultation. In the face of the offering by our politicians of little more than austerity and gloom, let us begin the task of remaking our world, remaking it in a manner that takes account of our spiritual identity, where love, friendship, solidarity, sympathy, mercy, tolerance and compassion, creating opportunity for people to contribute and live useful lives and helping all people, especially our young people, feel that they belong and have a place. It is a vision such as this that will remake our shattered world. It is through lives lived with a mixture of mysticism and astuteness that a new society might be built out of the ashes of our burnt out economy.
Richard Frazer – 4th December 2011