Come to the water—this is an open invitation to the weary, the hungry, and the wandering to receive what they cannot earn. The gift is offered without money and without strings attached; it’s a reminder that some blessings are not transactions but gracious gifts. In this Advent season, remember the simple wonder of being invited, as if being told to drink at a well that never runs dry. [05:16]
Isaiah 55:1 (CSB)
Come, all who are thirsty, come to the water; and you who have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without cost.
Reflection: Where do you most often treat God’s grace like something to earn rather than drink freely? Name one small, concrete habit this week (a short prayer, a Scripture read, or a whispered “thank you”) that will remind you to receive, not earn, God’s gift.
The feast is free because the price has already been paid—Christ bore the wounds and punishment that heal and restore. This truth overturns the common instinct to hustle for worth or prove oneself before God. Resting in that payment frees the heart from performance and allows true satisfaction to set in. [07:29]
Isaiah 53:5 (CSB)
But he was pierced because of our rebellious acts; he was crushed because of our iniquities. He bore the punishment that made us whole; by his wounds we are healed.
Reflection: In what area of your life are you still trying to prove your worth to God or others? What would “resting” look like there for one week—what one action will you stop doing and what will you do instead to remember Christ’s payment?
God’s invitation is not conditional on flawless performance but is anchored in a permanent covenant rooted in faithful mercy—shown ultimately in Christ. Even a life like David’s—marked by victory and failure—remains within God’s family because of God’s steadfast love. This covenant means a seat at the table is kept for you; you belong not for what you do but for what God has done. [15:22]
Isaiah 55:3 (CSB)
Give ear and come to me; listen, that your soul may live. I will make with you an everlasting covenant, according to the faithful mercies promised to David.
Reflection: When fear creeps in—“Am I still in?”—what two specific promises from Scripture will you speak aloud this week to remind yourself of God’s covenant? Choose a time and place to declare them (morning, mirror, mealtime).
Isaiah warns against trading our silver and labor for things that never truly fill the soul—applause, endless scrolling, living through others, or temporary escapes. Those “bad bread” pursuits consume energy and promise fullness but leave hunger behind; recognizing them is the first step toward repentance and reorientation. Choose the better feast and learn to taste what truly satisfies from the hand of the Lord. [13:11]
Isaiah 55:2 (CSB)
Why do you spend your money for what is not bread? And your wages for what does not satisfy? Listen carefully to me, and eat what is good; enjoy the choice food I provide.
Reflection: Identify one “bad bread” habit you repeatedly return to when anxious or empty. What is one concrete swap you can make this week (replace 20 minutes of scrolling with prayer, a song, or a call) to begin tasting the “choice food” God provides?
Grace is not only for keeping; it’s for sharing—those who feast on God’s mercy are sent to call others so nations will run. The church’s gatherings and acts of hospitality (like Nativity Nights or a Blue Christmas service) model how to welcome the hungry and point them to the feast. Your seat at God’s table becomes a place from which others are invited in—who will you invite this week? [18:53]
Isaiah 55:5 (CSB)
Surely you will summon nations you do not know, and nations that do not know you will run to you; because of the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, for he has glorified you.
Reflection: Who in your sphere is hungry, wandering, or grieving this season? Name one person and one specific, low-barrier invitation you will extend to them this week (a text, a coffee, bringing them to a service or community meal).
Advent heightens our ache for home, and Isaiah gives us a menu for that longing. I invited us to see Isaiah as the “fifth gospel,” a corridor filled with promises—some already fulfilled in Jesus’ birth, death, and resurrection, and others we’re still waiting to see at his return. Isaiah 55 opens with a startling word: “Come.” Thirsty, broke, weary—come. Water, milk, and wine without money and without cost. In a world where nothing is truly free and everything carries expectations, God offers a feast with no admission price.
But it isn’t cheap. It’s free because it’s paid for—fully—in the suffering of the Servant: “By his wounds we are healed.” That’s why no payment is needed, assumed, or accepted. And the feast satisfies. We catch little glimpses of satisfaction in holiday meals and family moments—warm, rich, right—even though they quickly fade. Those fleeting tastes point to something deeper: Jesus’ forgiveness, belonging, and a place in the family of God that does not evaporate when the morning passes.
God also warns us about “bad bread”—the exhausting appetites we chase that never fill us: applause, perfectionism, distraction, spending, even good things made ultimate. When we wake up to how empty those loaves are, shame asks if our seat at the table has been reassigned. Isaiah answers with covenant: the faithful kindness shown to David now extended to us in Christ. David’s failures didn’t void his place—and neither do ours. Your name is still on the place card.
Grace never stops with us; it spreads through us. Those who taste the feast become people who set more places, who open doors, who let others run to the light. That’s why we make room for our neighbors at Nativity Nights, invite the grieving to Blue Christmas, and ready our hearts for the Lord’s Table. In Holy Communion we receive a foretaste of the endless celebration already underway—Christ with us, saints with him, and a home that finally satisfies. Where Jesus is, there’s always a feast—free, abundant, overflowing.
There is no entrance fee, but there is an incredible, incredible cost. It asks nothing of you, because Christ has already giveneverything for you. And if we're honest, though, as good as it sounds, sometimes this actually offends us, that the saving king is also the suffering servant. Because we think, if we're honest with ourselves, that if this is how it works, it must be cheap, it must be a trick, it clashes with our instinct that we've got to prove our worth, that we've got something to prove to God, to prove to others. And it's hard. [00:08:48] (45 seconds) #GraceIsFreeNotCheap
It's so fleeting, isn't it? It's so temporary. It feels so good, but then it's that it's gone for another year. And friends, this picturethat Isaiah gives for us, as good as Christmas morning may have been at your house now or growing up, it's nothing compared to how completely and fully satisfying it is what Jesus is offering.Friends, he's offering forgiveness and eternity and a place in the family of God. He's giving us what our hearts truly do long for and ache for desperately. [00:11:37] (41 seconds) #TrueSatisfactionInChrist
We idolize our children and our grandchildren. We live through their grades andtheir goals, hoping that they will make you feel full. You exercise obsessively. You spend like crazy striving to be indispensable to that friend, trying to be that perfect spouse, all in a desperate effort to try to try to feel right. You're laboring for what Isaiah calls bad bread, food that does not satisfy, that does not truly feel the hunger you have. [00:13:46] (37 seconds) #DontChaseBadBread
We know what this looks like in our relationships with other people. And sometimes we're tempted to look at God in the same way. Missed churched more than you'd like to admit? Having cracked open the word of God in a while? Made a mess of your personal life? Got a long list of recent disappointments and you wonder, am I still in? Do I still matter? Have I lost my seat at the grand buffet of God's grace? [00:17:11] (30 seconds) #YourSeatIsSaved
And Isaiah wants you to know that despite all that, Jesus' invitation to his market of merciescarries a covenant with it, a commitment. No matter how much it feels like you've let God down, God in Christ has never and will never let you go. Your seat is still set. Your place is still there.Your name is on it in his table of mercy and goodness and steadfast love. It is spread before you.It's always yours. It's an everlasting, permanent covenant sealed in the blood of the Jesus. [00:17:41] (33 seconds) #EverlastingCovenant
See, this time of year, there's a feast always around every corner, filled with food and treats. But don't forget, it's only a glimpse of what's already yours in Jesus. May we enjoy these glimpses. May we draw deep comfort from them, such as we gather this morningaround the table of the Lord in holy communion. We're coming to the feast, a foretaste of the feast to come, as we will say. [00:23:21] (24 seconds) #GlimpsesOfGrace
But we stand there also this morning with the saints who havegone before us, who are even now with Jesus. Your spouse, your son or daughter, your best friend, your grandmother. We come and we dine at the family table this morning in a foretaste of the unending celebration to come with angels and archangels and all the company of heaven. Can you see it? Can you taste it? So, so very good. [00:24:04] (35 seconds) #FeastWithTheSaints
Because Christ has come to make his dwelling withus. And where he is, there's always a feast, free, abundant, overflowing with his promises.And by his grace, there's a place at the table with your name on it. So come, rejoice with his gifts because in Christ, we discover the deepest truth that when it comes to the feast of God's mercy, there really is no place like home. [00:24:39] (33 seconds) #FeastAtHisTable
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