Our Torches Won't Do

I want you to imagine for a moment that you’re in an unfamiliar cave…maybe you’re even taking a tour of the cave when suddenly all the power goes off. What’s the first thing you do?

We could likely test this here…if all the lights suddenly turned off I bet we’d have several of y’all grabbing for your cell phone and using that light. We don’t like to sit in the dark. The darkness unsettles us.

So what happens when you find yourself in exile? What happens when the world around you seems to be crumbling? What happens when things are unsettled? When fearful things are all around you…what do you do?

Every single one of us lives with what we would call a core narrative. It’s what we use to answer some of life’s really important questions. Why do things matter? Why does this thing matter more than that thing? Your core narrative is how you go about answering that question. Your core narrative is the story you tell…it’s how you make sense of the world.

What happens when that core narrative gets rocked?

For the Israelites they told the story that they were God’s chosen people. God was housed in their temple. He was the chief God among all the other gods. As long as that temple stood in Jerusalem they’d be okay. Peace, peace. God isn’t going to wipe us out or boot us out of the land. We’re his people. He has tied his reputation to us. He won’t let these things that this Jeremiah fella is telling us come to pass.

Then they get exiled. Their core narrative was rocked and they fell into despair, depression, hopelessness. Is God still faithful? Are the Babylonians and their gods bigger than the God we said we worshipped? And even if we believe that our God, YHWH, is THE God is there any way that he can overcome our sin? Is there any way that he can fix all of this? Is his arm too short to save?

Isaiah 50:1–11 ESV

Thus says the Lord: “Where is your mother’s certificate of divorce, with which I sent her away? Or which of my creditors is it to whom I have sold you? Behold, for your iniquities you were sold, and for your transgressions your mother was sent away. Why, when I came, was there no man; why, when I called, was there no one to answer? Is my hand shortened, that it cannot redeem? Or have I no power to deliver? Behold, by my rebuke I dry up the sea, I make the rivers a desert; their fish stink for lack of water and die of thirst. I clothe the heavens with blackness and make sackcloth their covering.” The Lord God has given me the tongue of those who are taught, that I may know how to sustain with a word him who is weary. Morning by morning he awakens; he awakens my ear to hear as those who are taught. The Lord God has opened my ear, and I was not rebellious; I turned not backward. I gave my back to those who strike, and my cheeks to those who pull out the beard; I hid not my face from disgrace and spitting. But the Lord God helps me; therefore I have not been disgraced; therefore I have set my face like a flint, and I know that I shall not be put to shame. He who vindicates me is near. Who will contend with me? Let us stand up together. Who is my adversary? Let him come near to me. Behold, the Lord God helps me; who will declare me guilty? Behold, all of them will wear out like a garment; the moth will eat them up. Who among you fears the Lord and obeys the voice of his servant? Let him who walks in darkness and has no light trust in the name of the Lord and rely on his God. Behold, all you who kindle a fire, who equip yourselves with burning torches! Walk by the light of your fire, and by the torches that you have kindled! This you have from my hand: you shall lie down in torment.

What is happening there in those first four verses is the Lord saying, “no, I haven’t forsaken and you and no, my arm isn’t too short to save.” So what’s the issue?

Now you might be asking that same question this am? Maybe you’re feeling like you are in a cave called depression. Maybe you’re in the darkness of poverty. Maybe you’re stressed and anxious and worried about the results of some election on Tuesday…and you’re deeply concerned about the future of our nation. Perhaps you’ve just suffered loss after loss in 2020 and your core narrative has been turned upside down and you’re just left wondering, “where is God in all of this mess?”

This text speaks directly to us this morning. First, we’re going to look at our temptation in the cave. Then we’re going to see what God calls us to do in the darkness and why we do this in the darkness.

Our temptation in the cave and why might I not be seeing God so clearly.

Earlier I spoke of us being uncomfortable in the dark. We certainly are. As soon as it’s dark we end up lighting a torch. But did you hear those words in that song we heard early that the kids danced to? “Consider the stars when it is darkest they shine out the brightest”.

If you went outside right now to see the stars you couldn’t see them? Why? Because there is this giant ball of fire in the sky that keeps you from seeing them. It shines brighter.

So look at verse 10 and 11. Verse 10 you’ve got them walking in darkness…we’ll come back to that. But look at what we see in verse 11. They are “lighting their own torches”. For the Israelites this meant that they were in the darkness of exile and rather than following the voice of the Lord in the midst of that suffering what they did was they started lighting torches.

Political alliances, political posturing and maneuvering. They lit torches of power. They lit torches of personal comfort. They labored to find comfort in a land they weren’t supposed to find comfort there. HEBREWS LOOKING FOR A CITY.

We can light torches too. What am I trusting in to light things up? What am I running towards? Food, pleasure, television, power, money, hobbies, it can really be anything. I’m lighting a torch.

And what is this saying. It’s saying you can’t see the stars because your idol is shining too brightly. You can’t see the hand of God or hear the voice of the Servant in the midst of darkness because your torches are too loud.

Think of it this way. God told Abraham his descendants would be as big as the number of stars. That’s a smaller promise when you live in the city. Because the city lights make it to where you can’t see the stars quite so clearly. So what have you got right now that’s shining so bright? It might not be stuff…it might be your own voice…your own self-consumption. You might be the light. And that self-obsession is just going to keep changing masks.

But listen to this gracious invitation of the servant. I’m just simply overwhelmed by this verse. “With a word him who is weary.”

I can’t hear that word if I’ve got a million other voices. But if we, by the grace of God, see those other lights dampen. And we hear the voice of the servant…oh, comfort, comfort, my people.

So what does it mean to wait? One, as we’ve already seen is that it means to not be satisfied with these substitutes. But it means more than that. It means listening to the servant and His Word.

What does it mean to wait?

One of the guys who has influenced me deeply in the field of biblical counseling is a guy named David Powlison. Listen to these questions Powlison asks about how we view the Bible?

What do you see when you look at your Bible? Do you see a book crammed with relevance? Do you see a book out of which God bursts as He speaks to what matters in daily life? Is your Bible packed with application to the real problems of real people in the real world: inexhaustible, immediate, diverse, flexible? Or is the Bible relatively thin when it comes to addressing human struggles?

If your Bible is thin then in the darkness you’re going to be grabbing for torches. But listen here to the Servant’s relationship to the Word. And by the way as we’ve seen through Isaiah, the servant kind of plays a double role. At first glance this is Israel. But we see that Isaiah has in mind another Servant who is not Israel. Ultimately we see this pointing to Jesus Christ. And so hear…the one who with a word can sustain those who are weary.

But look here in Isaiah the servants relationship with the Word of God. “awakens my ear.” “open my ear”. So you get the idea here that the servant knows God’s Word. But he not only knows God’s Word he listens to God’s Word. He obeys God’s Word. He lives God’s Word. See that in verse 5. The very opposite of what our response usually is. The Servant perfectly obeys.

And look where it leads. verse 6. Friends, sometimes the Word of God will lead us into some very difficult places. But his obedience causes him to “hide not his face from disgrace and spitting”. I appreciate how Ray Ortlund said this:

One reason we see widespread breakdowns in our own wisdom and even integrity today is that we seem to have forgotten that God calls us to follow Christ into suffering. What sustains us is not selfish predictability but the unchanging word of the Lord. That’s what we need above all else and, in the end, all we have to offer others. Isaiah shows us the servant of the Lord suffering. And the servant was not rebellious; he did not turn back. When we turn away from God-ordained hardship, we are rebelling against God and diminishing our own capacity to breathe life into others.

And because of this—dedicated obedience to God—his face is set like flint. He is vindicated by the Lord though beaten by men.

But notice what is happening here. Notice what he is saying in verse 10. Who among you fears the LORD and obeys the voice of the servant? Let him who walks in darkness and has no light trust int he name of the LORD and rely on his God.

That’s NOT saying if you’re in darkness trust in the Lord and everything will become light. There is a picture of this in the Bible. But there it’s speaking of light differently—it’s speaking of holiness, of purity, etc. But this is speaking about suffering. You cannot say that if you give your heart to the Lord then you’ll be rescued from suffering and difficulty. Saying, “wait on the Lord. Trust his Word.” Isn’t saying, “if you do this then you’re going to get out of the cave.”

I want to read something for you that I wrote about ten years ago as it relates to battle with depression:

I know what it is like to live in the enjoyment of what Christ has purchased.  I know what it is like to be “on fire for the Lord”.  In these times I figure I see things rather clearly.  I see gospel metaphors everywhere.  I see the beauty of Jesus all around me.  In these times I am feasting on the goodness and greatness of God.  I cherish these times. 

But then for some unknown (at least to me) reason the lights go out.  Sometimes it is because of a stupid choice.  Sometimes it is personal sin.  Occasionally it will be circumstances.  But many times I just wake up discouraged and I cannot seem to shake it.  My head feels fuzzy, my body feels tired, my affections feel cold. 

When the Light Goes Out

In these times it is as if I find myself in a really dark room where all the things that I know are real appear much different than they really are.  You know that feeling that you had when you were a child and as soon as the lights went out the trees outside your window turn into monsters with long dangly arms, the dresser becomes a giant blob of death, your wardrobe is Frankenstein, and your toy chest is now a portal to the depths of the underworld.  That’s what real life feels like to me sometimes.

An expression which a day before would have been rightly interpreted as love is now interpreted as disdain.  Harmless jokes which I would have laughed at yesterday are now darts that rip at the very fiber of my identity. The sin that I could have dealt with yesterday, seeing it rightly covered by the blood of Christ, now seems insurmountable. The confidence that I had yesterday, the passion for writing, preaching, studying, etc. to make Christ the only boast of this generation now turns on me and convinces me that any work I do will probably bring shame upon the risen Lord.  The open arms of Jesus that yesterday seemed like an invitation for loving embrace now seem like that grappling position that wrestlers have before one is thrown down to the mat.

I know my eyes (perhaps, more so my heart) are playing tricks on me.  I know that any wrestling Jesus does is for my good.  I know my wife loves me, my friends respect me, God uses me, and His blood is sufficient for even my thoughts in this darkness.  I know that.  But yet that tree sure does look like a monster. 

Your counsel to me might very well be “just go turn on the lights”.  I can’t.  Maybe because I can’t get myself out of bed for fear that the darkness will swallow me.  Maybe I can’t because for some reason the light switch is broken.  Maybe I’m so disoriented that I am not even sure where the light switch is anymore.  It seems as if I am in these moments at the mercy of the dawn.  When morning comes then I’ll see again. 

Making the Nights Better

I have not given up trying to make the night go away.  Though, I’ve somewhat come to grips with the fact that this may very well be my “thorn”, my “weakness”, that the Lord will choose to show His strength through.  As for now, I’m in that in between spot where I am trying to find a way to “boast in my weakness” but fight it with all the vigor I have with weaponry of Christ. 

One way that I have learned to fight the darkness is to take advantage of the daytime.  In those times when the lights are on I cannot throw my time away on trivial junk (though I often do).  In these moments I need to prepare for the darkness.  The more I become convinced of reality when the lights are on the easier it is to tell a dragon from a jukebox when the lights are out. 

This is one reason why I rehearse the gospel quite often and keep things that serve as matches quite close to me.  I know that when I’m in the dark I can call to mind Scripture that I’ve read, theological truths that have been implanted in my heart, help from the church (all 2,000 years of her history), and identity shaping gospel promises.  These are my matches.  They give me just enough light to see for a moment before the darkness overtakes them. 

Perhaps God allows the night so that I long for the day.  There will be a day when there are no more dark rooms and I am able to see the Lord for who He is.  I’ll know then who I am too.  And his outstretched arms will never be interpreted for a forthcoming throw to the mat—instead I’ll know they are love. 

I’m content hanging on to my bed post in darkness praying that the darkness doesn’t overtake me, so long as I know that morning is coming.  He’s fighting the darkness.  I can’t see Him but He is.  And He’ll make sure that morning comes, even when it seems like the darkness may have gotten the upper hand. 

I’m hanging on until morning. 

Now can I tell you that I wrote that about 10 years ago and God has brought substantial healing to my life. Cave’s aren’t quite as dark as they once were. God has worked to reshape my “core narrative” and help me to trust in His Story more than my own. I could talk for awhile about that…but I share all of this just to give you a picture of what I try to do with Isaiah 50:10-11. These aren’t verses “for y’all” these are verses for me. Things I have to constantly cling to.

And I think Isaiah here gives us the answer as to why. Why do we trust in the Lord’s story above our own? Why do we trust in Him instead of torches?

51:1-3 God’s is the life-giver who speaks things out of nothing into existence. Look at Abraham and Sarah. This accordingly to Paul in Romans 4 is what happens in the life of every single believer. God makes something out of nothing. What better word to those who are in exile and their situation seems hopeless. What better word to those in a cave. God makes a way but you won’t see his life-giving path if you’ve got your own torches burning.

51:4-6 God’s eternal power changes things forever. Any torch that we light doesn’t have eternity in it. It has to keep being re-lit, changed, kindled. It’ll fade. That’s what 51:6 says. But God is eternal. That’s what happens when our core narratives are built on the stuff we’ve torched up. But if your story is attached to God’s story…His eternal story…it doesn’t change…though all the earth gives way. God’s salvation lasts forever. I’d rather camp out there.

51:7-8 God’s righteous way lives forever. We talk a good deal about being on the right side or the wrong side of history. God moves history. Go with Him and you’ll never be ashamed. Fear of man is such a snare. I want to show you this from Psalm 11. It’s connected to his argument here in Isaiah 51.

When your core narrative is destroyed…you could also call it having “our foundations destroyed”. We hear that verse quite often in our society when we talk about the cultural shifts we see happening. But you can extend this to saying whenever your core narrative…whenever your foundations are destroyed…and you find yourself in the darkness of a cave…what do you do?

Many take Psalm 11:3 as a call to arms to preserve our foundations. Fight for that core narrative. But Psalm 11 outlines a different path. The hope in Psalm 11 and in Isaiah 50-51 is to give us an unshakeable hope a foundation which doesn’t teeter.

Psalm 11:3📷 is connected with Psalm 11:2📷 and is to be placed on the lips of the cynic who is telling King David he ought to flee to the mountains. The cynic is the voice of the modern hand-wringing fear-peddler. But the Psalm begins with a rebuke of such a thought. The king is trusting in Yahweh as his refuge, therefore it is not fitting to say that he ought to flee to the mountain because the foundations are destroyed. You don’t run away when your core narrative is ripped to shreds.

Those who peddle fear would have us believe that it is on some particular point that the foundation is still teetering. You’d better do this particular thing or the world is going to burn. And that fear peddling comes in red and blue. It comes with depression. It comes with social issues. It comes in any color and any creed. Fear-mongering sells. But do we not realize that when we buy what the fear mongers are selling and begin to peddle their words ourselves we are grabbing a sledgehammer ourselves and swinging at our foundations. The gospel is not made of fear but of hope. And hope has no home in a world driven by fear.

Psalm 11 paints a different picture. Here we see a world in which the one who trusts in the LORD can be immovable even when the foundations crumble. The mountains are no refuge, nor are they an option. Our foundation is immovable. Psalm 11 reminds us that we can be assured that God will vindicate His own righteousness.

Furthermore, Psalm 11 confirms for us that God will continually respond to His children in love. Even if it’s tough and painful love in the midst of the wreckage of a broken society. But he is a sure and certain refuge. This means that hope is never gone. We do not have to flee to the mountains, nor do we have to resort to cynicism or use a fear of fleeing to the mountains to engage in fear-mongering.

“If the foundations are destroyed what can the righteous do?” is not intended to be a call to arms. It’s the desperate plea of a cynic. The words of hope are those of David: “In the LORD I take refuge”. This Psalm is realistic in that the foundations may crumble. But it’s also realistic in it’s hope and trust in the omniscient and omnipotent God of history. He will never crumble. This is a much better path to follow because David Murray is correct, “Christian hope has never been dashed on the rocks of reality.” (The Happy Christian, 93)

Is your foundation Jesus Christ? Is your hope in Christ? Are you hearing the word of the Suffering Servant…even in darkness? OR are we lighting torches?

Christian…any torches that need snuffed out? Light of Christ!

Not trusting in Christ. Snuff out your torch.