Monday • 1/18/2021
Week of 2 Epiphany

This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 25; Isaiah 44:6–8,21–23; Ephesians 4:1–16; Mark 3:7–19a 

This morning’s Canticles are: following the OT reading, Canticle 9 (“The First Song of Isaiah,” Isaiah 12:2–6, BCP, p. 86); following the Epistle reading, Canticle 19 (“The Song of the Redeemed,” Revelation 15:3–4, BCP, p. 94)

O Israel, you will not be forgotten by me… — Isaiah 44:21. 

To a ten year boy in Fort Lauderdale, FL, in the early 1960s, “Searstown” was a huge and delightful place. It was full of fascinating things—most notably, Ted Williams baseball and fishing gear. Things fascinating enough to get me separated one day from my parents, who were interested in more mundane things like, I dunno, furniture or something. 

At any rate, one minute I’m trying on a Ted Williams baseball glove with the tantalizing smell of its leather, and fantasizing about leaping for a spectacular Mickey Mantle catch in centerfield, when I look up and realize I’ve lost my parents. I wander around the store a while, and eventually I entertain the fleeting notion that they just might have forgotten about me and gone home. It was just a passing thought, but a chilling one. Soon, I heard my name over the store loudspeaker, with instructions on where to go to find my parents. Happy reunion. 

What would it be like to be not only lost, but really forgotten — for good? I know that that is what millions and millions of people on this planet live with every day. It certainly is what Israel felt after centuries of separation from their land, their temple, and their God — everything that gave them their identity. Everything that they could call “home.” 

Isaiah Chapters 40–66 are animated, more than anything, by this promise: “O Israel, you will not be forgotten by me.” There is comfort here for anybody who wonders if they’ve been forgotten. You do a great job for your boss, and not a word of thanks—forgotten. You invest years in a relationship, and the other person just walks out—forgotten. You live long enough to see all your friends die off—forgotten. 

Isaiah promises a homecoming—if only Israel will realize she only has one God, the only God who truly is, the God who is “the first and the last; besides [whom] there is no god” (Isaiah 44:6). This God formed her for one reason: to have a relationship with himself (Isaiah 44:21). This God has “swept away your transgressions like a cloud, and your sins like a mist” (Isaiah 44:22). This God loves her. This God calls the heavens and the depths of the earth and the mountains and the forests to sing his redeeming power and his promise to come and make his radiant presence dwell in her (Isaiah 44:23). This God will never, ever, ever forget her … or you!

Be blessed this day,

Reggie Kidd+