Sermon Tone Analysis

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Prayer for Church Family

The withdrawal of God’s presence is hardly noticeable, but once God is absent it is the only thing you notice.

While they may not be able to quantify what is missing, even the most ungodly person can sense the absence of God.

When God is absent, there is no respite from sin.

Leaders are embroiled in unrighteousness.

Oppression is rampant, and the “good” is anything but holy.

Common sense is thrown out by those in power.

Justice is perverted, and to quote Proverbs 29:2:

In short, life does not work when God is nowhere to be found.

Men often ask the question, “where is God when…?”

They wonder at God’s location when devastating news comes or when tragic incidents occur.

They look for God when loss overwhelms and disasters strike.

They seek God’s presence in the depths of their “darkest” hours.

But the hours when darkness falls thickest are not those of bad circumstances.

True darkness presides when God is totally rejected.

God is no longer welcome, so he removes his hand and his Spirit.

Our Condition of Depravity

That’s the idea behind Romans 1: men are so wicked and vile that they are past the point of correction.

God simply allows them to “follow their hearts.”

Three times in this same chapter, Paul says that God “gave them up” to their passions and desires:

He gives them up because they have rejected him to the point of no return.

Not only do they engage in evil, but they promote it:

Then God leaves.

The effects are devastating.

People cry out in agony as they are brutally mistreated.

Confusion reigns and truth cowers into the fringes of society.

People are forced to hide their thoughts for fear of exposure and condemnation.

Forgiveness is vacated as injustice recycles old faults with horrific tenacity.

The fundamental elements of truth and goodness vanish, for they cannot exist where their Source has exited.

The depravity of man is on full display, and it demands allegiance.

When it gets this bad – when God has removed his protection and blessings on a culture, there’s only one real option – one hope for a better tomorrow.

We beg God to act – to do something, anything!

Our Cry of Desperation

Israel found itself in such a state.

Israel has rejected God, having wondered far off the path of righteousness.

The prophet Isaiah anticipates a future day of judgment on Jerusalem, when the Temple would be trampled (63:18) and God’s people would no longer be ruled by God (63:19; cf.

Hosea 1:9, etc.).

He recognizes that they deserve such punishment, for their righteousness is filthy rags (64:6), and their sins have accrued for ages (64:5).

It is in that brokenness that Isaiah voices a cry of desperation.

That is not a polite request.

Isaiah’s plea with God shows desperation.

This is a man who has no other hope than for the eternal God to work on his behalf.

There is no way to say “Oh!” without feeling it in your depths.

“Oh” is abject need that doesn’t have a lexicon – a deep-felt longing that has no words and no desire to find them.

It is that desperation you feel when you yearn for something so much that you feel you must get it or else you will die.

Many a man has requested God’s presence as if they were formally inviting him to a wedding.

They order fancy invitations with elegant fonts and gold foil inside the envelopes.

They use ornate language with ostentatious decorum.

They may even be as bold as to ask God to RSVP.

But “Oh!” doesn’t use formalities.

“Oh!” is so desperate, so reckless, that it bypasses manners and makes a beeline to the heart.

“God, please come!”

Our Crime of Desertion

So we call out to God.

We pray for revival, hold revival services, invite dynamic speakers and wonderful musicians to create an atmosphere conducive to God’s work.

We might blanket neighborhoods in prayer for God to work in peoples’ hearts.

But even when we are desperate, even when we are completely sincere in our efforts to invite God’s activity, we often find him to be absent.

And no wonder, for, after all, we have rejected him.

When we find that we yearn for God and he does not come, no matter what lengths we have gone to or what efforts we have expended, we must ask ourselves a simple question: what is stopping God from rending the heavens and coming down?. Often, we find his answer in the words of another prophet – the shepherd of Tekoa:

If we want to know why the revival we long for has been so long delayed, it is precisely because we have not yet agreed with God.

We cannot walk with him if we do not agree with him.

Consider Adam and Eve in the garden.

They have just bitten the forbidden fruit.

They are ashamed and have grabbed the nearest leaves – figs – to cover themselves.

They are scared.

Their eyes are open to a world of fear and sin for the first time.

They are no longer innocent, but guilty.

And they know it.

They know it fully.

And here is the voice of God as he approaches.

Every evening he came to the garden to walk with them.

But today they are frightened.

What will God do?

They are guilty and they deserve God’s wrath – the fears must have overwhelmed their feeble minds.

So they hid.

Walking with God would be a death sentence for them, so they try to avoid his presence.

And we’ve been hiding from God ever since.

But now, now that we are children of God through the death and resurrection of Christ, now that we have been forgiven of our sins and no longer face condemnation for our errors, we believe we can walk with God while we live for the world.

But God will have none of it.

“How can you walk with me,” God asks, “when you and I aren’t going the same way?”

This is what prevents revival.

It’s not just that we sin, but that we continue in sin.

We don’t agree with God that the errors of our sinfulness are “all that bad.”

We argue that our sin is “not as bad as theirs” or “isn’t the worst thing in the world.”

We point our fingers at “those people” and claim that our sins pale in comparison to theirs.

But God does not ask us to be better than them – he asks us to repent of our own sins.

He asks us to agree with him that our sins are as scarlet, that our righteousness is filthy rags, and that our gains are total losses compared with Him.

Until we value God more than we value our own sins, revival will be nothing more than a distant memory or a fairy tale of “long, long ago” and “far, far away.”

We ask God to come near, but our own actions tell him to go away.

Look back at Isaiah 64:1 again:

The prophet not only pleas for God’s presence, but for his mighty arrival.

He yearns for God to rend the heavens, not merely walk through them.

Isaiah, and every righteous servant of God, longs for God to rip the skies apart in his terrible might.

There is no easy way for God to come.

There is no path God will take that will not involve rending.

When God comes, something must be rent apart.