Scripture Readings: Isaiah 65:17–25 & Luke 21:5–19
Even amid what feels broken and uncertain, the human heart still imagines a world made whole. That is the hope we hear today in Isaiah 65 and Luke 21: hope that rises not from denial of pain, but from God’s promise to create anew even when tears still fall. As we move toward the end of the church year, we long for a renewed world healed by God’s love and justice for all people and all Creation.
In Isaiah 65, the prophet Isaiah speaks to a people surrounded by ruins – the city torn down, the temple destroyed, the songs of joy silenced. Their cries filled the night. Yet into that desolation, God speaks: “For I am about to create new heavens and a new earth; the former things shall not be remembered or come to mind.”
(Slide1) God’s words meet them right where they are – amid tearing up, weeping, crying, sobbing, bawling, and wailing in the world. The sounds of grief echo through history, from the past to our present moment. We hear them in war-torn places, in broken communities, in suffering rooms, and in our own weary hearts.
And yet, Isaiah proclaimed that God’s creative hand is not absent in those tears. Out of the world’s weeping, God is bringing something new. The tears we cry do not fall into emptiness – they fall into the hands of a Creator who gathers them, redeems them, and transforms them into the waters of new life.
Isaiah’s vision is one of the now and the not yet. God’s promise of a new heaven and a new earth points toward the future, but it also reshapes how we live today. When we are between what has been and what is promised, to “build houses and live in them” and “plant vineyards and eat their fruit” means to live faithfully in the present, creating, nurturing, acting in hope, even before the world is fully healed.
We live in that same tension between God’s promises already given and the fulfilment yet to come. The news we read is often filled with violence, injustice, disaster, and grief. Yet hope calls us to reorient our lives toward God’s promised peace, even while we still stand amid the tears of this age.
Hope is not blind optimism. Hope is courage with eyes wide open. It is choosing to believe that even now, God is sowing seeds of joy where sorrow has taken root. Even when the world feels fractured, God is still creating new heavens and a new earth. Even amid division and conflict, we are invited to participate in God’s ongoing creative work as co-workers in Christ.
(Slide2) In Luke 21, the disciples marvel at the beauty of the temple – its stones, its grandeur, its permanence. But Jesus tells them that these stones will fall, that the world they trust will be shaken. He speaks of wars, earthquakes, and persecutions – all the things that make us tremble because of the instability of our world, the uncertainty of our times. We see the pain of creation and the cries of those who suffer injustice or loss. The tears of the world are real, and they are many.
(Slide3) But Jesus does not leave us in despair. As He speaks about the end times, He tells us, “You will be hated, not because of who you are, but because of who I am.” There will be persecution, and some may even face death, yet nothing of eternal worth will be lost. Even in such hardship, He promises that we will not be overcome, nor will we yield to the pull of the world.
These trials become opportunities to witness, not only with our words, but through lives shaped by Christ. The signs of the times remind us that His return draws near and call us to alertness and prayerful trust. Though deceivers will offer false authority, Jesus teaches us to rely on God for strength and the right words. God protects us for eternal life, and our endurance becomes part of our witness. Jesus invites us to keep the faith, trust Him through everything, and stay under God’s protection.
What, then, will we testify? Not self-preservation, but the reconciling love of God made visible in daily acts – compassion for tears, peace for fear, and harmony amid division. Our Spirit-led witness takes form through faithful peacemaking and generous love. May we not be misled, but endure in hope, stand firm in faith, and love boldly until the Lord returns.
In times like these, perhaps the strongest witness is quiet, steady love. Choosing kindness in the face of mistreatment, reaching across boundaries, praying for those who hurt us – this is real testimony. This is faith in action.
Jesus’ words, “By your endurance you will gain your souls,” remind us that endurance is not passive suffering but active faithfulness – remaining rooted in love when everything else shakes. It is the slow, patient work of building peace in a world that still wails.
There’s a common thread between Isaiah’s new creation and Jesus’ call to testify. Both are born in suffering yet lead to blessing.Isaiah speaks of joy rising from ruins. Jesus speaks of courage arising amid chaos. Both proclaim that God’s work of redemption begins right in the middle of our tears.
The weeping of the world does not have the final word. God does. The tears that fall today will one day be wiped away, not because they are insignificant, but because they have been seen, honoured, and transformed by the love of God.
(Slide4) As the Church year draws to a close, we stand at the doorway of Advent – that holy season of waiting and longing. Advent is not just a countdown to Christmas. It is a sacred space and a time to sit with the world’s sorrow and to wait with hope for God’s coming light. It is the season that gives voice to our lament – the season that allows the world’s tearing up, weeping, crying, sobbing, bawling, and wailing to be heard and held before God.
Advent begins not with celebration, but with longing. It reminds us that faith is not an escape from pain, but a cry of trust within it. We wait not passively, but by making room in our hearts for Christ who heals the broken-hearted and makes all things new. Jesus calls us to testify in a broken world, to be signs of hope amid lament, to create amid destruction, and to love amid hate.
Every act of mercy, every prayer for peace, every gesture of forgiveness becomes part of God’s renewing work. The new creation Isaiah envisioned is already breaking in through those who live by the Spirit of Christ. When the world weeps, the Church kneels beside it and whispers, “God is here.” As a community of hope, we offer a foretaste of the life God is bringing, building community, healing divisions, and embodying Christ’s peace.
So, what does it mean to hold hope in the midst of ruins? It means believing that even amid the world’s tears. God is still creating new heavens and a new earth. It is to testify with steadfast love and to wait through Advent’s darkness, believing the dawn will come. As we await His return, we live as agents of reconciliation and signs of the new creation.
The God who began creation is still creating. The Christ who wept still weeps with us and redeems. The Spirit who remained over chaos still breathes new life. And so we wait. We hope. We testify. For the day is coming when every tear is wiped away and the world’s wailing becomes a song of joy: “Behold, I am making all things new.”
Thanks be to God! Amen.
(Ref. Bible, commentaries, theological books, UCA materials)