December 14 – Third Sunday of Advent Sermon Manuscript

Isaiah 35:1–10

“On the Holy Way”

New Life Beginning in the Wilderness

1. On this third Sunday of Advent, we turn to Isaiah 35, a passage that vividly reveals how God brings forth new life in the midst of a dried-up and desolate reality. Isaiah declares, “The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad; the desert shall rejoice and blossom like the crocus.”

2. The words “wilderness” and “dry land” come from the Hebrew midbar and tsiyyah. Midbar is not merely an empty field but a land where one loses direction, a place where no paths exist, where life struggles to survive. Tsiyyah, often translated as “parched land,” is even more severe—land with no water, no resources, a place where every possibility seems extinguished.

3. Yet Isaiah makes a surprising proclamation: God will cause flowers to blossom precisely in the midbar and the tsiyyah. The Hebrew verb tifrach, “to blossom,” conveys the sense of life bursting forth suddenly and powerfully.

4. God’s work does not begin within the boundaries of what we consider possible. God begins His work at the very place where we have let go, where we have surrendered, where we have abandoned hope because it felt too familiar or too exhausting to try again.

5. Therefore, the expectation of Advent is not a longing for more of the same, but a longing for God’s new work—new life rising in the wilderness.

6. Words like these give us courage. Yet for some—especially those who pride themselves on being “realistic”—such words may sound like the hollow echo of an empty metal can.

7. Some believe that recognizing harsh reality must come before any hope or courage. And indeed, there are people who pull reality forward with hope, while others hold reality down with caution. It is not surprising that reactions differ.

8. The question is not who is right or wrong.

9. Last week, I crossed the Bay Bridge four times. And every time I crossed, I remembered that this bridge once collapsed in an earthquake. And without fail, I thought, “What if an earthquake happens exactly while I’m on it?”

10. But that doesn’t mean I choose never to cross the Bay Bridge again.

11. That is the posture with which we enter today’s Scripture. This is not merely a hopeful message divorced from reality. What we read today speaks to the present—our story, not someone else’s.

God’s Comfort for Those Who Tremble Before Change

12. Isaiah continues: “Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees.” Weak hands are hands that have lost strength—hands that no longer have the will to hold on. Feeble knees are knees that wobble, about to collapse.

13. Change brings fear before it brings excitement. That is why our hands grow weak and our knees tremble. Yet God speaks first: “Do not fear—your God will come.”

14. The word “save” here is yeshuah—the same root as the name “Jesus.” Salvation is not merely the solving of a problem. It is the opening of what has been blocked, the widening of our breath, the emergence of a new possibility.

15. Advent is the season in which this God—our saving God—comes to us again, speaking strength to our trembling hands and wobbly knees.

16. Yet when facing change, we instinctively cling to what is familiar. Familiarity provides comfort but weakens the energy required to embrace new things. This is how we easily become like the Pharisees.

17. The Pharisees’ problem was not their love of tradition. It was that they absolutized it—they became blind to the new work God was doing. By insisting, “This is how we’ve always done it,” or “This structure is safest,” or “Change is dangerous,” they locked themselves inside an imagined safety zone.

18. Such familiarity-driven faith ultimately forgets the weak, offers no hope to those suffering, and suffocates a community’s capacity to open new paths.

19. Last week the officers of the Korean National Association gathered in San Francisco to discuss the future of our churches. The heaviest concern we shared was this: Will the Korean Methodist Church still exist by the time we retire?

20. Our annual conference closes two or three churches every year. Most congregations now have an average age in the 70s. Those who have decorated Christmas trees their entire lives are now nearing 80, yet they still carry those responsibilities.

21. Their systems are strong, but the people who uphold them are aging.

22. Korean immigrant churches face the same reality. Pastors are aging, too. Recently, the Canaan Korean Church in Monterey announced that it would close next year and merge with a neighboring American church. In such a moment, what must the church do?

23. Perhaps the answer is this: the very traditions we have fiercely protected for decades must be released. We must attempt things we have never tried, imagine paths we have never walked.

24. This means surrendering the confidence we once had—confidence that “this must remain,” “this should never go away,” or “this is essential”—and instead turning to God in humility, asking how He calls us to minister today.

25. Each of us has in our hearts things we believe we must do, and other things we deem unimportant. But the gospel often reverses such categories. Advent calls us to keep the essential things at the center while stepping away from what is merely familiar.

Waters in the Desert and the Emergence of the Holy Way

26. Verses 6–7 declare: “Waters shall break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert.” The verb “break forth” is the Hebrew nivq’u—meaning “to split open,” “to burst forth,” “to break through what was closed.”

27. God’s change is like a spring erupting from rock—a new source of life. The “springs” mentioned here signify an unending well of life. God’s change is not temporary inspiration; it is enduring vitality.

28. Verse 8 introduces the heart of the restored future: “a highway shall be there, and it shall be called the Holy Way.” This phrase translates the Hebrew derekh ha-qodesh. Derekh means path, direction, or way of life. Qodesh means holy, set apart.

29. This means God does not merely give His people a route back to Zion. He gives them a new way of living—a new identity shaped by holiness.

30. To walk on the Holy Way does not mean moving toward a geographic destination. It means living a life transformed as God’s children.

31. If we cling to what is familiar—if we insist on doing only what we’ve always done—we will never see this path. But if we take even one courageous step into the unfamiliar, God leads us to the path He has already prepared.

32. The unfamiliar, the risky, the uncomfortable—these may actually be the very road God has laid before us.

33. The crisis facing the church today is not simply declining attendance or financial strain. The deeper crisis is our unwillingness to seek a new path—our refusal to move beyond familiar patterns.

34. Phrases like “This is how church should be,” or “Traditional methods are best,” or “Korean churches are conservative”—these are not theological truths. They are fears disguised as wisdom. Advent calls us to shed this fear and to look for the new path God is revealing.

The Song of the Redeemed and the Restoration of Community

35. Verses 9–10 describe those who walk this path as “the redeemed,” “those ransomed by the Lord.” Redemption means “to buy back,” “to pay the price to restore what was lost.” God does not give up on His people. He claims and holds His community through every circumstance.

36. As they return to Zion, they enter with “songs of everlasting joy.” This joy is not superficial emotion. It is the reordering of life around God’s salvation—a joy that cannot be stolen by circumstance.

37. The rebuilt Jerusalem was small and unimpressive. The second temple was far smaller than Solomon’s temple. The city was in the early stages of reconstruction.

38. Yet Scripture does not record their situation as “pitiful.” Why? Because worship had returned. Their identity as God’s people was restored.

39. The restoration of a community is not measured by size or buildings. It is measured by whether the song of the redeemed rises again—whether joy in God is renewed in the hearts of God’s people.

40. Recently, Korean novelist Han Kang received the Nobel Prize in Literature. Ironically, although many celebrated, I had never read her works. Perhaps I had saved them for later, or perhaps I hesitated because I wanted to meet her writing without the weight of “worldwide recognition.”

41. Among the quotations circulating widely is this profound line: “Can the dead save the living?”

42. Of course, I knew this was a literary, philosophical question—not a theological one. Yet as a pastor, this question immediately called to mind the cross of Jesus Christ.

43. Perhaps you have had similar thoughts.

44. Han Kang is said to have written this question repeatedly in her journal throughout her twenties: “Can the dead save the living?”

45. In literature, she may be speaking of the lessons we inherit from those who suffered or died in history. But as Christians, the answer we proclaim is clear: Yes. The death of Jesus Christ has saved us.

46. Yet we know this truth is not always rehearsed in our daily lives. We do not repeat it often enough.

47. Even so, we know what redemption means. God ransomed us at the cost of His Son. We who gather here today are a community formed by that redemption.

48. This means that the Church—and for us, Yeolin Church specifically—is the place where the redeemed sing again, where joy in God is restored. If we expect this and hope for this, then this place becomes a place of restoration.

Conclusion: Stepping Beyond the Familiar into God’s Holy Disruption

49. Advent reminds us again that the very way Jesus came reveals who God is. When Jesus arrived, He shattered the religious expectations of His day. He came in humility. He met the eyes of the weak. He dwelled among those society overlooked. This is the holy disruption of God.

50. Through Jesus, God calls us not to a faith that remains in familiar patterns but to a faith that follows Him into the new life He is opening.

51. Advent is not a season for repeating what has always been. It is a season of expectation—a witness to the God who leads us onto a new path. If we remain where we are, we will miss the life God is giving.

52. But when we step beyond the familiar and move forward in faith, then roads appear in deserts, flowers bloom in wilderness, and streams break forth in dry land. God speaks to us today: “Do not fear. I am coming to you.”

53. On this third Sunday of Advent, may all of us step beyond what is familiar, walk toward the life God is breathing into our community, and stand upon the Derekh Ha-Qodesh—the Holy Way God has prepared for us. Amen.