Isaiah 25:1-10
“God is not ashamed of human lowliness but enters into it. God is near to lowliness; he loves the lost, the neglected, the unseemly, the excluded, the weak and broken.” These words of Dietrich Bonhoeffer reveals the very nature of God’s grace that is the source of greatest strength to the weak and the vulnerable.
Isaish 25 is part of a prophetic imaginative apocalypse that offers post exilic hope to a people shrouded with fear and anxiety. As we read the passage again we find this same angst reverberating across several parts of the world, where the people in the peripheries and margins of life are longing for the message of comfort and hope.
Imagine a mother kneeling beside her child who has scraped a knee—not just treating the wound, but gently wiping the tears. That small, intimate act tells the child: “You are seen. You are safe. You are loved.”
This is how Isaiah pictures God’s grace—not as distant help, but as a gracious tender presence, gently wiping each tear with infinite care.
Grace is God’s Deliverance of the Vulnerable- Foreseen and Expereinced
O Lord, you are my God;
I will exalt you, I will praise your name;
for you have done wonderful things,
plans formed of old, faithful and sure. V.1
God’s grace is faithful and sure. It is not impulsive or inconsistent, but utterly trustworthy, rooted in God’s unchanging nature. This grace reflects God’s steadfast commitment to His promises, even when human beings are unfaithful. As Isaiah affirms, God’s redemptive work is born of eternal intention—His plans for salvation, justice, and restoration were set in motion long before we perceived them. Grace is not an afterthought; it is God’s eternal strategy. The word “wonderful” in this context points to God’s miraculous, awe-inspiring acts of salvation, deliverance, and renewal. These are not abstract ideas but real, transformative interventions in human history. For the prophet, even when obstacles appear insurmountable from a human perspective, nothing can limit the possibilities of God’s grace at work.
Being able to see the present as part of God’s “old, faithful, and sure” plan enables us not to lose heart when the tides turn against us or when we feel too weak to bear the weight of reality. The heart of faith looks beyond the turbulence of the moment, anchored in the assurance of God’s sustaining grace and the certainty of the liberation that is yet to come. It draws strength from memory, recalling the wonderful things God has done, and even in the midst of pain, is prepared to exalt and praise Him—boldly declaring, “You are my God.”
Grace is God’s sojourning with the vulnerable
For you have been a refuge to the poor,
a refuge to the needy in their distress,
a shelter from the rainstorm and a shade from the heat. V.4
Mother Teresa once said – “We are all pencils in the hand of a writing God, who is sending love letters to the world.”
Grace means that God is not watching from a distance but is actively sheltering the oppressed. It is present where the world turns away, choosing to dwell among the forgotten and vulnerable. In the echoes of the Incarnation, grace enters into human suffering, walks into pain, and sits with the brokenhearted. The “rainstorm” in Isaiah 25:4 evokes turmoil, instability, and danger—but even in life’s most turbulent moments, God offers a calm and steady center. Grace may not remove the storm at the pace we expect, but it invariably provides shelter within it. It brings comfort, dignity, and relief to those burned by systemic injustice, offering rest to the weary while resisting the very systems that exhaust them. Above all, grace reveals the immanence of God—His nearness—most deeply felt by those who need Him most.
The image of shade from the heat is a powerful metaphor that should challenge both our ecclesiology and our mission praxis. It evokes the presence of a God who journeys through the wilderness with His people, like the cloud that subdued the scorching heat. This is the presence that suffering humanity and a groaning creation expect from our prophetic calling—to be a tangible, comforting shade in the deserts of life. Grace is what grants us the calm and shelter of that shade, and it also calls us to become that shade for others who long for relief, hope, and refuge.
Grace is God reaching out to the tears of ALL the vulnerable
On this mountain the Lord of hosts will make for all peoples
a feast of rich food….
And he will destroy on this mountain
the shroud that is cast over all peoples,
the sheet that is spread over all nations; v.6,7
he will swallow up death for ever.
Then the Lord God will wipe away the tears from all faces. V.8
St. Augustine said, You are my strength when I am weak; your grace is enough for me to stand.”
Grace is radically inclusive. It is not confined to one nation, race, or group, but is extended to all people without exception. The vulnerable from every corner of the earth are invited to God’s table—grace is God’s open invitation to the whole world. It does more than rescue; grace celebrates with the broken, honoring and uplifting those whom the world overlooks. In the shadow of loss and grief, grace speaks of resurrection, hope, and life everlasting. It dignifies every face, every tear, every story—God’s own hand gently drying the tears the world ignores. And beyond mere consolation, grace removes disgrace, restores identity, and renews hope. Grace replaces reproach with restoration.
The destruction of the shroud and the swallowing up of death in Isaiah 25 are powerful and hope-filled images. John Calvin describes this shroud as “the general wretchedness under which all humankind groans, until God appears as their Deliverer.” Karl Barth connects this image to Christology, declaring that the resurrection of Christ is the tearing of the shroud—the decisive end of death’s dominion over humanity. This vision in Isaiah serves as a precursor to the apocalyptic promise in Revelation 21:4: “He will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more.”
Conclusion
Once we experience this God, we can then join the prophet in joyfully affirming, “This is the Lord for whom we have waited.” In a world weary with grief, injustice, and uncertainty, we wait not in despair but in hope—knowing that God’s grace is faithful, His promises are sure, and His presence is near. So let us go forth as a people of the feast, ready to live, serve, and rejoice in the God who wipes every tear and makes all things new. Let us not forget that the role of the Church is to continue to share this message of hope to the broken people around us and to be visible expressions of God’s liberating presence in their lives.
Vinod Victor
September 1, 2025
Freiburg Anglican Church 