April 6 Sunday Sermon – English Manuscript
- 열린교회BKUMC
- 4월 5일
- 7분 분량

Isaiah 43:16–21
The One Who Does a New Thing
I’ve often mentioned that the book of Isaiah should be read in three parts. The first part contains messages proclaimed in the face of judgment as the nation was on the brink of collapse. The second part consists of words of hope, spoken near the end of the exile, as Babylon was falling and Persia was rising to power in the ancient Near East. The third part includes messages delivered in the context of the new challenge of rebuilding the temple.
The Isaiah 43 passage we read today belongs to the second part. After the nation had fallen and the people were taken into exile, they began to somewhat adapt to life in Babylon. Amid this, a major geopolitical shift occurred in the ancient Near East: Cyrus of Persia rose to power, and Babylon began to lose its dominance. This created a crack of opportunity for the exiled Israelites.
As superpowers competed for control, Israel began to perceive new opportunities and possibilities. In this context, Second Isaiah speaks of how God would lead them into a new world they were about to face.
The entire passage gives us clues as to what kind of direction and message it contains.
Verse 16 says, “I make a way in the sea, a path in the mighty waters.” Any Israelite hearing this would recall one defining moment: the exodus from Egypt. For the exiles, this scene would evoke vivid memories—God creating a path through the sea, allowing their escape from slavery.
Verse 17 continues this memory: “who brings out chariot and horse, army and warrior; they lie down, they cannot rise, they are extinguished, quenched like a wick.” This triumphant moment is an essential part of Israel’s identity. It is a source of pride, a collective memory to be passed down.
But suddenly, at the end of verse 17, a prophetic formula appears: “This is what the Lord says.” Then comes a surprising declaration in verse 18: “Do not remember the former things, nor consider the things of old.” Despite being worth remembering, God commands them to forget. This startling command can be understood for two reasons. First, clinging to past experiences can hinder our perception of present reality. Some people are stuck in the “back in my day” mindset, unable to accept new things. This pride in past experience can blind us to our current humble situation. Second, while past memories are valuable, God tells us there are even better things to come—so we should anticipate what lies ahead.
There’s a currently popular Korean drama called “When Life Gives You Tangerines” that blends past, present, and future beautifully. A son becomes a father and meets his own son; a daughter becomes a mother and meets her own daughter. The good times remembered by the parents are reimagined even more beautifully in the lives of their children.
Some say these are good times, while others say things aren’t like they used to be. Last week, after church cleaning, a few of us sat down for ramen and began talking about whether life today is better than in the past and what the future might hold. Will AI truly make life more convenient? To what extent should robots be allowed to function? How will Elon Musk’s dream of autonomous driving affect us? The conversation included both hope and concern.
On the way home, I began to reflect as a pastor—what will happen to the church? Even if AI continues to advance, I don’t think the spiritual needs of people will vanish, so I may still have a job. But more seriously, what’s the future of Open Church? Is the church just a predictable community space now? Or can it still be a source of hope?
The following verses after “Do not remember the former things” explain why this message is important. While part of it warns against being bound by the past, it also calls us to look forward with expectation for what’s about to begin. Verses 19 and 20 describe what God will do in detail.
“See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland. The wild animals honor me, the jackals and the ostriches, because I provide water in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland, to give drink to my chosen people.”
God declares that He is doing a “new thing”—translated from the Hebrew ḥāḏāš āp̄îq, which can mean not only a “new way” but also something stronger, greater, and more powerful. This new act of God surpasses the previous ones—greater even than the Exodus. In terms of our spiritual lives today, this means God is working through us in even greater ways than before.
Israel’s situation at the time was bleak. They were still in exile in Babylon, though things were beginning to shift. As Babylon declined and Cyrus of Persia gained strength, the Israelites sensed a new opportunity—but it was also uncertain and scary. Some people focused on the negative, thinking that Babylon and Persia were no different and that no real hope existed. Others clung to hope, believing change was coming for the better.
In this situation, Isaiah reminds them of the Exodus but quickly tells them to stop dwelling on it—because God is preparing something greater. Isaiah interprets Cyrus’s rise to power as God’s new path forward.
Recently, South Korea experienced a major event—the Constitutional Court upheld the impeachment of President Yoon Suk-yeol. Depending on one’s political stance, this was either hopeful or devastating. This is the second presidential impeachment I’ve experienced. It made me feel that South Korea’s democracy is maturing, staying faithful to Article 1 of the Constitution: “The Republic of Korea is a democratic republic. Sovereignty belongs to the people, and all power comes from the people.” Regardless of political views, we all shared in the experience of witnessing a new Korea being built. Every country’s politics include conflict, but what Korea showed this time was that democratic procedure must not be overridden by division.
Isaiah’s message—that God’s new work will be more powerful and magnificent than before—isn’t vague optimism but rather a testimony to God’s ongoing acts and a message of hope.
Isaiah describes this new thing as “making a way in the wilderness” and “streams in the wasteland.” In Hebrew, the wilderness is midbar, and the desert is yeshimon. The difference is subtle: the wilderness has no roads, while the desert has no water. These landscapes represent the path the Israelites traveled in exile. Returning would have felt daunting. But God’s promise to make roads and rivers in such places means He will lead them back home.
The wilderness and desert symbolize the overwhelming hopelessness the Israelites felt. But God’s new thing will erase that despair with paths and streams—real deliverance.
We all face moments in life that feel overwhelming. Looking back, we somehow made it through, but the thought of doing it again can feel impossible.
I recently reflected on Open Church. What lies ahead? Last year around this time, we were preparing to relocate. We had many meetings, hearings, and fundraisers. In hindsight, it’s a wonder we managed. Now, we’re here. If someone asked me, “Pastor, could we do it again?” I’d probably say, “No way.” It was a tough journey.
But today’s scripture reminded me: “Do not remember the former things.” Let go of those difficult times and the memories of Oakland. Of course, we’ll have lingering regrets. But I feel God is telling us to stop clinging to the past and instead hope for the new work He will do here.
Looking back, everything unfolded quite smoothly. The conference provided a loan, we met a great architect and general contractor, and construction was completed successfully. We haven’t paid it off yet, but they’re not rushing us. They said we can pay once the Oakland building sells.
After we moved, someone made an offer on the Oakland property. Things seemed to fall into place, and I began to feel a sense of ease, as though God was truly guiding everything.
But then the buyer filed an injunction in court to block the sale, claiming we had violated a prior agreement. Their reaction to our counteroffer was unreasonable. Suddenly, everything hit a wall. It makes you wonder: did we make a mistake? Did someone mess up? As the pastor, I worry—what if this causes church problems?
We were looking forward to a smoother future, hoping the sale would free up resources. Thankfully, we found a good law firm representing us pro bono. Now we’re taking a break and waiting for resolution.
Personally, this situation reminds me of Israel’s 40 years in the wilderness after the Exodus. The journey to Canaan could have taken a month, yet they wandered for 40 years. Even Moses wasn’t allowed to enter. Yet Moses didn’t complain. Instead, he encouraged Joshua, saying, “Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”
Those 40 years in the wilderness stripped away all the habits and experiences of Egypt. Israel was trained and transformed. But even that experience had to be let go before entering Canaan, handing the mission to a new generation.
The relocation of Open Church means we, too, must let go of what we knew and prepare for what’s new. Next year marks our 40th anniversary. Our history contains cycles and repetitions. But now, we are being built anew in a new place. I hope we remember Isaiah’s declaration: “Do not remember the former things.”
Let’s not be bound by what we’ve experienced. Let’s look forward to God’s new work and establish Open Church in that hope. We often define ourselves: “We’re introverted.” “We don’t gather well.” “People come and go too frequently.” That may have been true before—but now we’re in a new place, expecting a new thing from God.
We can be more passionate. We can gather better than before. We can become a community where members settle in and grow in a healthy way—not a transient church, but a lasting home where children grow up and raise their own children.
I believe verse 21 holds the core of our hope for new things. Let’s read it together:“The people whom I formed for myself will declare my praise.”
We are God’s people. Praising God is our rightful calling. This means we were created for the new work God is doing. God has brought us to Orinda to begin anew with Open Church.
When we focus on this new thing, I believe God will also take care of the Oakland building, and shift the direction and purpose of our worries. Today, God says to us,“I am doing a new thing.”Let us respond with “Amen” and commit ourselves to this new work.
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