The Joy Of The Redeemed

Oh, come, O Day-spring from on high, And cheer us by your drawing nigh;

Disperse the gloomy clouds of night, And death’s dark shadows put to flight.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to you, O Israel!

No one understands peace quite like the person who has seen war. Certain things will never be taken for granted again. Something as simple as being able to lie in your own bed becomes a luxury, having spent many nights out in the field. These people may have thought they knew peace before, but having now seen its opposite, having been in war, now they know just how elusive and precious peace is.

In a similar vein, no one knows joy quite like you or me, having been redeemed. Redeem is a word we throw around often in church. We sing it every Easter with “I Know that My Redeemer Lives.” We hear about in the stories of Ruth and Boaz and with Job. In its simplest form, to be redeemed means to be bought back. Yet, if we only speak of redemption in a dictionary sense, we cannot see it in its fullest light.

If we do not speak of what we’ve been redeemed from, or who has become our Redeemer, we do ourselves a disfavor. Perhaps you know the answer to such things but let me set the scene for you anyways. What you were bought back from is not some mediocre company or some pesky, little nuisance that makes life a little rougher. You were bought back from sin. You were its slave in the worst imaginable way possible. Every evil thing that you associate with slavery, sin craved to do to you and worse. It held you captive by drawing you further and further into its control by whispering to you all that you wanted to hear and all the good things that you hoped for. Yet, sin’s whispers were nothing but lies. It spoke such things to you only that it might keep you for itself and eventually hand you over to the everlasting embrace of death and hell.

Saddest of all, even after all that it’s done to you, you still are enticed by its whispers. You still lust for its cold and abusive embrace. Even after knowing what it wishes for you, you still return, crawling back to it.

Yet, even with all of that being said, you do not belong to sin. It is no longer your master. Rather, you have been redeemed, bought back. And if you have been bought back, that must mean you once belonged to someone other than sin first. Who, though? The one that created a whole world for you to go out and enjoy. The one who has been thinking about you from before even the world began. The one who would pay any price just so that you, his child, might become his own once more. Even if that price would be worth more than life itself. This master did not hand over gold or silver to see this through. Rather, what he handed over was the author of life, himself. God exchanged his own Son for you, that you would once again be his own. This is how you have been redeemed.

So having served both masters, you now know both of them well. Having come from the other side, you know how blessed you are with your Lord. This knowledge and feeling you have of the situation is known as joy. It is something that is sure and can never be taken away. It does not ebb and flow as the tide, but rather remains a constant source of confidence throughout eternity.

In our lesson, Isaiah reveals to us the truths that our joy latches onto. The desert and the parched land will be glad; the wilderness will rejoice and blossom. Like the crocus, 2 it will burst into bloom; it will rejoice greatly and shout for joy. The glory of Lebanon will be given to it, the splendor of Carmel and Sharon; they will see the glory of the LORD, the splendor of our God. 3 Strengthen the feeble hands, steady the knees that give way; 4 say to those with fearful hearts, “Be strong, do not fear; your God will come, he will come with vengeance; with divine retribution he will come to save you.” 5 Then will the eyes of the blind be opened and the ears of the deaf unstopped. 6 Then will the lame leap like a deer, and the mute tongue shout for joy. Water will gush forth in the wilderness and streams in the desert. 7 The burning sand will become a pool, the thirsty ground bubbling springs. In the haunts where jackals once lay, grass and reeds and papyrus will grow.