A Light for the Nations (A Sermon on Isaiah 49:1-7)
- matthewheisler

- Jan 21
- 10 min read
Updated: Jan 23
If you would prefer to watch the sermon, there is a YouTube video at the bottom of this blog post.

Isaiah 49:1-7
49 Listen to me, O coastlands; pay attention, you peoples from far away! The Lord called me before I was born; while I was in my mother’s womb he named me.2 He made my mouth like a sharp sword; in the shadow of his hand he hid me; he made me a polished arrow; in his quiver he hid me away.3 And he said to me, “You are my servant, Israel, in whom I will be glorified.”4 But I said, “I have labored in vain; I have spent my strength for nothing and vanity; yet surely my cause is with the Lord and my reward with my God.”
5 And now the Lord says, who formed me in the womb to be his servant, to bring Jacob back to him, and that Israel might be gathered to him, for I am honored in the sight of the Lord, and my God has become my strength—6 he says, “It is too light a thing that you should be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to restore the survivors of Israel; I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.”
7 Thus says the Lord, the Redeemer of Israel and his Holy One, to one deeply despised, abhorred by the nations, the slave of rulers, “Kings shall see and stand up; princes, and they shall prostrate themselves, because of the Lord, who is faithful, the Holy One of Israel, who has chosen you.”
Introduction - the Servant Songs of Isaiah
Good morning, everyone. It’s a joy to be with you this morning. I love getting to “drop in” as a guest preacher because, 1, I get to worship with folks I don’t see all that often and 2, if I say something that you don’t like, I won’t see you for a while, so I’m kinda off the hook. To be clear, I don’t set out to offend people, but sometimes when we’re dealing with scripture - especially prophetic scripture like Isaiah 49 - we may feel uncomfortable with what God has to say to us.
And, that’s actually a good sign. Prophets rarely show up to confirm our assumptions. They show up to reorient us - to turn our heads to something we’ve forgotten or ignored. So if at any point today you feel a little unsettled, take heart. You’re in good company.
So, with that, let’s dig in.
Today’s passage follows Isaiah 48, where God is essentially wrestling for Israel’s heart. God reminds Israel why they should listen - from creating the universe to fulfilling miraculous promises to Sarah and Abraham to liberating the Hebrews from Egyptian slavery - God has been faithful to them and more than earned their trust.
If we read Isaiah straight through, we’d find that today’s passage is one of four “Servant Songs” (Isaiah 42, 49, 50, and 52-53). These passages describe a mysterious figure called the Servant of the Lord.
Isaiah 49 begins with a call to “coastlands” and “peoples from far away.” That’s Isaiah’s way of saying: This message is not just for Israel. The Servant receives his mission from God, and we learn that his work is not limited to Israel. God says in verse 6:
“It is too light a thing that you should be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to restore the survivors of Israel; I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation shall reach to the ends of the earth.”
This Servant is a strange figure. He holds power to restore nations, yet he is “deeply despised.” He is a “slave of rulers,” yet kings stand when he enters the room. He’s “abhorred by nations,” yet princes bow down to him. He carries no sword - instead, his mouth is like a sharp blade.
And this is where Isaiah is saying something particularly brilliant. He’s showing us that God’s way of healing the world is not through the tools we expect - not through domination, not through coercion, not through the iron laws of empire - but through a different kind of power altogether.

The “Iron Laws of the World”
Earlier this week, I heard an interview with the White House Chief of Staff Steven Miller. When asked whether the United States would rule out military action to take over Greenland, he said:
“We live in the world, in the real world, that is governed by strength, that is governed by force, that is governed by power. These are the iron laws of the world that have existed from the beginning of time.”
Now, whether you agree with him or not, what struck me was the confidence - the assumption that this is simply how the world works. That this is the only way the world can work.
These “iron laws” would have sounded familiar to the Israelites. They lived under them in Egypt. They were crushed by them under Assyria. Judah was pulverized by them when Babylon destroyed Jerusalem and the Temple. And, Jesus himself was executed under the iron laws of Rome.
But, Scripture insists that these are not the only laws at work in the world.
The Babylonians had a creation myth - the Enuma Elish - where the world is born out of violent conflict between gods. Israel’s story begins differently: with a God who creates out of love, calls creation good, and desires relationship with people.
Two competing narratives about reality - one rooted in domination, one rooted in love - have always existed side by side.
And here’s the thing: whichever story you believe will shape the kind of person you become.
If you believe the world is governed by force, you will live by force and coercion.
If you believe the world is governed by love, you will live by love.
One of those stories leads to fear, suspicion, and self-protection.
The other leads to courage, generosity, and hope.
In Exodus, the iron laws of empire are defeated not by a stronger empire but by a God who hears the cry of the enslaved and liberates them through an unlikely leader.
By the time of Jesus, many Jews expected the iron laws to work in their favor. They wanted a Messiah who would overthrow Rome. But Jesus refused that path. He did not spend his life dining with the rich and powerful and issuing decrees from atop a throne. Jesus lived among the poor, the sick, the outcast. And, at Jesus’ arrest, when Peter drew his sword, Jesus said, “Put it away, for those who live by the sword die by the sword.” Jesus died at the hands of empire - and yet, through resurrection, he overturned the very power that killed him.
This is the God who says in Isaiah, “it is too light a thing” to focus only on one nation. God’s salvation is for every nation to the ends of the earth. Jesus understood this. In Matthew 5, he tells his ragtag followers: ”You are the light of the world.”
Not the powerful. Not the elite. Ordinary people.
And that’s still true today.
The American Illusion of Being a Light to the Nations
This language of being a “light to the nations” has shaped American imagination for centuries. In 1640, English Puritan John Winthrop spoke of a “city upon a hill” as he founded the Massachusetts Bay Colony. John F. Kennedy echoed it in 1961 when he quoted Winthrop:
“‘We must always consider that we shall be as a city upon a hill - the eyes of all people are upon us’…for of those to whom much is given, much is required…”
Ronald Reagan, too, found it to be a central concept and said this in his farewell speech to the nation in 1989:
“I’ve spoken of the shining city all my political life, but I don’t know if I ever quite communicated what I saw when I said it. But in my mind it was a tall, proud city built on rocks stronger than oceans, wind-swept, God-blessed, and teeming with people of all kinds living in harmony and peace; a city with free ports that hummed with commerce and creativity. And if there had to be city walls, the walls had doors and the doors were open to anyone with the will and the heart to get here. That’s how I saw it, and I see it still.”
These words can stir inspiration, especially compared to the dark and divisive rhetoric we often hear today.
But if we hear “city on a hill” and think of American exceptionalism, we’ve missed the point.
Christian ethicist Stanley Hauerwas once wrote that Protestants “set out to make America Christian and ended up Americanizing Christianity.” Isaiah’s words were spoken to a scattered, crushed people under Babylon. Jesus’ words were spoken to the poor and oppressed under Rome. Neither was addressed to a dominant world power.
Jesus refused political power, because he knew salvation does not ultimately come through political systems.
Some think Jesus was an idealist. I don’t think so. I think he saw reality more clearly than we do. He knew that the power of a sword can only take life - it cannot give it. He knew that love, humility, and courageous resistance are the deeper laws of the universe.
Pastor and theologian Brian Zahnd puts it this way:
“God loves nations but is opposed to all empires. Empires trample upon justice.” Empires - whether ancient or modern - are “rich powerful nations that believe they have a divine right to rule other nations and a manifest destiny to shape history according to their agenda. They claim for themselves what God has promised to the Servant.”
Encouragement for Weary Hearts
At this point you might be thinking, “Matt, thanks for the political commentary - that’s exactly what I needed.” But I’m not trying to add to the noise. I want to encourage you.
If you feel discouraged by the state of the world, you are not alone.
A few years ago, when our oldest daughter was still a toddler, we were having one of those days where everything felt heavy. The news was bleak, work was stressful, and I remember thinking, “What difference can I possibly make in a world like this?”
That afternoon, I took her on a walk around our neighborhood just to get some fresh air. As we passed one of the houses on our street, an older woman who lived alone waved us over. She’d seen us walk by before but we’d never really talked. She knelt down, smiled at my daughter, and said, “You have no idea how much it brightens my day just to see you two walk past my window.”
It was such a small moment. Nothing dramatic. No grand gesture. But it hit me: sometimes the light we carry is so ordinary we don’t even notice it. Sometimes the light God uses is just a presence, a kindness, a moment of connection that reminds someone they’re not invisible.
I walked home thinking, “Maybe the world doesn’t need me to fix everything. Maybe it just needs me to show up with love in the places I actually am.”
And I think that’s exactly the kind of light Jesus was talking about — not a spotlight, not a floodlight, but a lamp on a stand, giving light to everyone in the house.
And when you reach out in love - even in small, quiet ways - you are participating in God’s mission to bring light to the nations.
Think of the simple acts that push back the darkness:
Checking on a lonely neighbor
Choosing patience instead of retaliation
Advocating for someone who has no voice
Offering generosity when scarcity seems easier
These might be simple, but they are not small things. They are the very shape of the Servant’s mission.
Martin Luther King Jr. said “The arc of the universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” And, he also said, “Those who love peace must be as organized as those who love war.”
When you choose love, you are joining countless others who refuse to believe that the iron laws of power have the final word. You are aligning yourself with the Servant - the one despised by the world’s systems yet honored by kings.
The world still believes in the iron laws — that only the strong survive, that only the powerful matter, that only force can shape history. But Isaiah dares to say otherwise. Jesus dares to live otherwise. And the resurrection dares to prove otherwise.
The Servant comes not with a sword but with a word. Not with armies but with compassion. Not with domination but with self-giving love. And somehow — impossibly, beautifully — that is the power that outlasts every empire.
Babylon fell. Rome fell. Every empire falls. But the light of the Servant has never gone out.
And now — here is the astonishing part — Jesus turns to ordinary people like you and me and says, “You are the light of the world.”
Not because we are impressive. Not because we are powerful. But because the same Spirit that raised Christ from the dead burns quietly within us.
So when you forgive someone who doesn’t deserve it…When you refuse to return hatred with hatred…When you choose generosity over fear…When you speak truth in a world addicted to lies…When you carry love into places that have forgotten what love looks like…
You are defying the iron laws. You are participating in the Servant’s mission. You are pushing back the darkness with a light the world cannot extinguish.
And maybe — just maybe — that is how God still saves the world. Not through the spectacular, but through the faithful. Not through the powerful, but through the courageous. Not through the empire, but through the Servant. And through all who dare to follow him.
May we be such people of light in this, a time of great darkness. And may our light shine in ways that darkness cannot overcome. Amen.
Benediction
Today’s benediction comes from Kate Bowler’s book of blessings called The Lives We Actually Have.
“Oh God, I am done with broken systems that break the very people they are meant to serve. Harness this anger! Channel it into worthy action and show me what is mine to fix and what boundaries to patrol to keep goodness in and evil out. Blessed are we who are appalled that brute ignorance can so easily dominate over decency, honesty, and integrity. Blessed are we, who choose not to look away from systems that dehumanize, deceive, defame, and distort. We who recognize that thoughts and prayers are not enough. We who stand with truth over expediency, principle over politics, community over competition. Oh God, how blessed are we who cry out to you: Empower us to see and name what is broken, what is ours to restore. Guide us to find coherent and beautiful alternatives that foster life, hope, and peace. Help us to use our gifts with one another in unity. Blessed are we who choose to live in anticipation, our eyes scanning the horizon for signs of your kingdom - heaven come down - as we wait. Go in peace. Amen.”
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