“The Promise of Restoration”
Zephaniah 3:14-20
Isaiah 12:2-6
Matthew 1:1-17
You might think it bold—and perhaps even foolish—to speak of restoration, recovery, and joy when we in this country stand on the verge of seeing many rights, opportunities, communities, and—worst of all—people taken away.
But this is precisely why we need to talk about restoration and recovery, precisely why we need to remember God’s promises to restore to us not only those things unjustly taken away but also those things we lost due to our own fears, brokenness, addictions, and inaction. Our awareness of all that is precious and precarious in these days is precisely why we need to ground ourselves in the truth of God’s promises of recovery and restoration.
Let us not forget: Back in 2019, while the fire was still smoldering, French President Emmanuel Macron promised to rebuild and re-open the fire-gutted Notre-Dame Cathedral in five years, adding that the restored cathedral would be “more beautiful than ever.” Many people said that promise was bold and foolish—preposterous, even.
Well.
Last weekend, just over five years after the world-famous cathedral was nearly destroyed, Notre-Dame reopened. Not only is it more beautiful than it was before, it may also be more stunning than it’s ever been since shortly after its construction was completed some 860 years ago.
And to think that many people might never have even tried to bring it back. Many people considered it a lost cause, far too far gone to be restored, much too massive, complex, and expensive a project to even contemplate beginning, much less completing.
“At the beginning—especially in the beginning—most people didn’t think it was possible,” the head of the reconstruction task force recalled.
Not that restoration of the grand cathedral wasn’t daunting. Before the building could be restored, it had to be stabilized and secured. Before the building could be restored, money had to be raise. Before the building could be restored, thousands of logistical and material challenges had to be overcome—trees had to be found, felled, milled, and transported; limestone had to be quarried and transported; some 8,000 organ pipes had to taken off-site to be cleaned and then transported back.
Once the project began, the needs seemed never-ending. Buttresses had to be reinforced; a new roof had to be built; the famous spire had to be re-designed and reconstructed; windows and paintings and columns and floors had to be meticulously cleaned, restored, and refurbished.
In the end, the project involved some 250 companies, 2,000 workers and artisans. So far, the restoration has cost $700 million of the $900 million that was raised.
But, perhaps even more crucial than all of that, the people involved—fundraisers, donors, artisans, laborers, church members, Parisians, and all the people of France—had to believe restoration was possible. They had to believe in the overall plan, they had to believe in each other, and they had to believe they were working for something much greater than themselves and much bigger and more important than even the most beautiful cathedral. They had to believe restoration was possible, and that, in the end, all their hard work, sacrifice, emotional investment, and financial generosity would be worth it.
The restoration succeeded because, as one person said. “Everyone involved on the project, without exception, was passionate above all. It [was] almost more of a mission than a construction project.”
Before the fire, the interior of the cathedral was dark and gray, covered with centuries ’ worth of soot. Now it shines.
“Five years after its destruction,” said the rector of Notre-Dame, “here it stands again, ready to welcome the prayers of the faithful, to welcome the heart, the cry of the heart of all those who come here from all over the world. Fire has not conquered stone, despair has not conquered life.”
The cathedral and all it represents has been restored. Hearts that the raging fire had broken, hopes that the destruction had dashed, have been restored.
And so it is worth remembering, especially at Advent, that God’s promise of restoration is at the heart of our faith. It’s worth remembering that no matter how shattered our hearts, how devastated our hopes, and how messy our lives, God promises to restore to us wholeness and joy. No matter how far we have wandered, how long we’ve been away, or how many times we have cursed God, the church, the American dream, or the Hallmark ideals of family, happiness, and success, God promises to bring us home, to renew our hopes, to deliver us from all that is wrong—including our own weaknesses and mistakes—and to surprise us with love and joy.
As with rebuilding and restoring a huge and ancient cathedral, our own restoration takes time and faith, commitment and persistence. As with the rebuilding of Notre-Dame, the rebuilding and redeeming of our lives takes the love, generosity, and support of a village, a community, a church.
And, as with the restoration of anything, our return to life and wholeness rarely happens on schedule, and it never proceeds in a straight line.
I would be willing to wager that, before today, you had never heard the genealogy of Jesus read aloud in a worship service. But I thought it might be instructive as, among other things, an example of the lengths to which God’s grace will go to keep a divine promise to God’s people, as an illustration of how nothing we do or don’t do can thwart God’s loving nature and healing, God’s redeeming purpose for us and the world.
When Abraham was an old man and childless, God promised to bless all families of the earth through him and his offspring. Problem was, not everyone got with the program, and even God failed to follow the so-called rules. Contrary to tradition, Abraham’s line was continued through two second-born sons, Isaac and Jacob. Contrary to tradition, the line continued through a Gentile named Tamar, a prostitute-turned-spy named Rahab, a Moabite named Ruth, a king-slash-murderer-slash-rapist named David and his victim Bathsheba—who doesn’t even get named! The line continued through more than a few corrupt kings and at least a few virtual unknowns, and then through an unmarried teenager named Mary.
The genealogy of Jesus is the record of a rule-breaking, may-making, promise-keeping, life-restoring God. The genealogy of Jesus shows us that God’s promises of blessing and redemption trump religious rules every time.
Neither humans who were not part of the original plan nor humans who were corrupt, unfaithful, or exiled could prevent the fulfillment of God’s promise—because God also promises to make a way out of no way, because God also promises to restore God’s people and to recover their belovedness.
Now you may be thinking that buildings—even massive cathedrals—are more easily restored than hearts, families, and lives.
I will not argue with you, but I encourage you to look around at the people you know who have been sober for a few months, a few years, or four decades—making it happen one day at a time and still considering themselves to be in recovery by the grace of God. I would encourage you to look around at the new loves and blended families that have been discovered after the death of a beloved or the painful ending of prior relationships. Consider the people—maybe even yourself—who have found new hope, community, and love long after rejecting church and swearing they’d never come back. Look at the dreams that have been restored after multiple failures.
And still, you may be thinking it is one thing to restore a cathedral or even a life, but that our country is deeply divided between those who want to restore and even expand the power of white supremacy, patriarchy, income inequality, and life-threatening homophobia.
I’ll grant you that, but I also ask you to consider the no-turning-back empowerment of women, people of color, queer folk, and those who love creation, and that God also promises us justice.
And still, you may be thinking that the restoration of an entire people to their home country is nothing but an ancient Bible story. I’ll admit that it’s hard to imagine and almost impossible to achieve, and . . . I’ll refer you to the unimaginable restoration of countless exiled and oppressed Syrians to their home country over the past couple weeks, to the power of the people in South Korea and the end of apartheid in South Africa.
All those people with hard-to-pronounce names in Jesus’ genealogy? Most of them had no sense of their part in the fulfillment of God’s promises. Not even Mary and Joseph fully realized what was happening—even after an angel tried to explain it to them.
Beloveds, do we understand the assignment? Do we realize that we have a role to play in the fulfillment of God’s promises to deliver, make a way, restore, redeem, and heal us, our systems, and all creation?
I will accomplish things you cannot even imagine, God says, and I will do them through you. I will do them through the least, the lost, and the left out. I will fulfill my promises through the most unlikely people, in the most unexpected ways, at the most unanticipated times. In the darkness, I will shine a bright light. In the wilderness, I will make a way. In times of fear and uncertainty, my presence and my promises will fill you with joy.
In out-of-the-way places like Bethlehem, in seemingly-closed places like your heart, in hospital rooms and at deathbeds, in war zones and on the border, in time of great sorrow and deep joy, in every moment of every day, I will be with you, and I will restore you to the fullness of life and love.
Watch me.
