Several years ago now, when my boys were still little and cute and cuddly–before the teen years set in and they knew more, wanted more, and looked at the world through slightly more jaded eyes–in a time and place that now seems kind of like a “once upon a time”, my boys stood watch at our front door.

We have a picture of them, standing stair-stepped side-by-side as the sun poured in through the screen door. Their faces are turned away from the camera–looking outward into the big, wide world. Their bodies seem poised, ready to spring into action–the camera capturing that moment right before potential energy becomes kinetic. And their eyes, so round, so eager, so full of expectation…the picture makes clear that something is coming, and it is gleefully anticipated.

What was the cause of such a joyful watch? A friend was on his way, and the boys were getting ready to participate in their first-ever sleepover. And so they watched. And so they waited. And so they were ready when the van first appeared, turning the corner onto our street. And so the door was thrown wide into the evening, welcoming the traveler in. And so shouts sprang forth, calling the parents and the dogs to gather: “He’s here! He’s here!” And so the watch was complete, the waited-for moment come to fruition just as the grown-ups had promised. And so there was joy.

It is with precisely this kind of ardent hope that I read Isaiah 21, as the Lord tells the people of Israel to set a watch–not because invaders are coming–but because news of deliverance is on its way.

Why did the Lord call on the remnant of Israel to set a watch? What were they supposed to be looking for? Nothing short of the miraculous….Babylon, the mighty power that had shattered the Temple and cast Israel into exile–the vast empire that had become the political, economic, and cultural center of ancient Mesopotamia–was under threat. Good news was coming to the remnant of Israel, and God said, “Watch.”

And so, Israel sets a watchman, who stands on the ruined walls of ancient Jerusalem and squints toward the horizon. It is quiet, as the people wait with bated breath. Time seems to stand still, energy suspended in its potential form, until, suddenly, there is a shout from above. A cloud of dust rises in the distance, and as the lookout calls down from the wall, a sound is heard–it is the sound of horses running.

Can you imagine the joy that greeted this pronouncement? Babylon, the nation that had flaunted its power and supposed superiority over the Lord God Almighty had fallen–her idols smashed to the ground. John recounts this moment in the book of Revelation, using it to celebrate God’s final victory over the enemy. Israel watched, and God’s promises were fulfilled.

As I read this passage, I can’t help but think about our churches today. And I wonder…are we watching? Or are we so consumed with self-perpetuation, with our own rules and policies, with numbers and monetary gains, with infighting and sacred cow traditions, that we have forgotten that part of our role is to be the lookout for God’s work in our world?

Like my boys waited and watched with hope and expectation, so we, the people of God, should do the same. We, as God’s church, should be the watchmen on the walls of our community–not looking for invaders or danger–but, as the watchman on Jerusalem’s walls peered toward the horizon seeking that cloud of dust which bore the first sign of God’s good news , so we should position ourselves throughout our communities to ardently seek opportunities to share God’s good news with the world.

As watchmen (or lookouts, if you’d rather), the Church can point to an opportunity for God to be made known–gleefully, joyfully, fervidly, and wholeheartedly. Perhaps we see someone grieving and stop what we’re doing to sit beside them. Maybe we see someone hungry and put our resources to ensuring that they are fed. Are there those in our community who are lonely, and could our churches be the community into which they can connect to something deeper? Do we have an opportunity to speak of God’s freedom to those who are imprisoned, be it a physical cell or one constructed from addiction or mental illness?

Just as he did long ago, so God still calls his people to set a watch, but not a watch of trepidation and despair. Rather, we are called to scan the horizon of our communities with eagerness–to gaze into the vast night of the world and enter into that space bringing the love and light of God.

So go…stand on the watchtower…and expect God to show up.

Blessings and Peace,

Sara