God Is Doing a New Thing: Stepping Forward

The closing page of a good book can feel sweet and sad at the same time. The ending at Wesley Memorial is named as one chapter closing, not the whole story ending. God’s story keeps moving, and God keeps calling people to lift up their eyes to a new horizon instead of flipping backward through old pages forever.

Isaiah 43 meets Israel in exile, far from home and crushed under Babylon. The darkness feels so thick that no horizon can be seen. The people miss the temple, remember ancient miracles, and get trapped in their own memories. God interrupts that sadness with chesed, faithful covenant love, and says, “Do not remember the prior things. Do not ponder ancient history.” The word may sound harsh, but the mercy inside it is clear. A faith stuck in the rearview mirror will miss the new grace God is pouring out right here, right now.

God says, “Look, I am doing a new thing. Now it sprouts up. Don’t you recognize it?” The wilderness is not empty of God’s work. The desert is not beyond God’s reach. Even when it feels pitch black outside, God is already making a path for the next season.

Revelation gives the horizon toward which God is pulling the world. A hurting community under Rome hears of a new heaven and a new earth. The sea, that image of chaos, evil, and everything beyond human control, is gone. Heaven does not simply take people away into the clouds. Heaven comes down to earth, and God dwells with God’s people.

God knows that change hurts and goodbyes are painful. God promises more than forward motion. God promises presence. God will wipe away every tear, death will be no more, and all things will be made new. Christian hope is not crossing fingers and wishing for the best. Christian hope is as sure as the sunrise. The dawn comes even when someone keeps hitting snooze, even when yesterday’s memories feel paralyzing.

The new horizon looks like weapons turned into tools of farming, neighbors housed and fed, the forgotten brought to the center, and every person celebrated as a deeply loved child of God. The final charge calls this church to step into the light, welcome the next faithful guide, keep fighting for the marginalized, and keep showing Charlottesville how radical the love of Christ truly is.

Christ’s table stands in the darkest hour. On the night he was betrayed, Jesus gave bread, wine, and the promise of presence. Communion feeds a people who do not have the future figured out, but who come hungry for grace, hope, and the promise that God is making all things new.

##

Key Takeaways

• 1. Nostalgia can blur the horizon Memory becomes dangerous when it keeps faith turned only toward what God did before. Isaiah’s hard word is not a rejection of the past, but a rescue from being trapped inside it. God’s people can honor old mercies without letting yesterday become the place where obedience dies. [39:49]
• 2. God’s new thing sprouts quietly The new thing does not always arrive with noise, certainty, or a detailed map. Isaiah’s image is a sprout, something small enough to miss if sorrow has trained the eyes only to scan the ruins. Faith learns to ask where God is already making a path in the wilderness before the whole road becomes visible. [40:28]
• 3. Hope is sunrise, not wishing Christian hope is not emotional optimism or polite denial of pain. Hope rests on the steady movement of God, as sure as dawn breaking whether anyone feels ready for morning or not. The believer may be slowed by yesterday, but the light of Christ is not delayed by fear, grief, or goodbye. [45:24]
• 4. God’s future has public shape The new horizon is not vague comfort floating somewhere above the earth. Revelation’s promise takes form in justice, inclusion, food, safety, and the forgotten brought to the center. God’s making all things new presses the church toward visible signs of that coming world right here at home. [47:12]
• 5. The table feeds uncertain travelers Christ does not demand that the future be figured out before grace is received. On the night of deepest darkness, Jesus gave simple gifts and the promise of presence. Communion becomes the place where sadness, hunger, and hope are held together by the One who has already set the table.
  
  ## [50:03]

Youtube Chapters

• [00:00] - Welcome
• [34:54] - A Final Sunday Together
• [35:37] - Turning The Last Page
• [37:14] - A Seat At God’s Table
• [37:56] - Exile And Looking Backward
• [39:06] - God Interrupts With Covenant Love
• [40:28] - A New Thing Sprouts
• [41:14] - Revelation’s New Heaven And Earth
• [42:30] - The Sea Of Chaos Is Gone
• [43:10] - God Wipes Away Every Tear
• [44:25] - Resurrection People Keep Walking
• [45:24] - Hope As Sure As Sunrise
• [48:14] - Step Into The Light
• [50:03] - Christ’s Table In The Dark

1. In Isaiah 43:18-19, what specific command does God give Israel, and what promise follows? How does the sermon describe the danger of ignoring this command? [39:29]
2. According to Revelation 21:1-5, what changes in the new creation? What does the absence of the “sea” symbolize in this vision? [42:30]
3. The sermon mentions that Communion is for people who “do not have the future figured out.” What actions or attitudes does the table of Christ invite? [50:03]
4. What examples of “God’s new thing sprouting quietly” does the sermon give from Isaiah’s imagery? [40:28]

1. Why might God tell Israel not to remember the past in Isaiah 43:18, even though remembering God’s faithfulness is a key part of Scripture (e.g., Psalms)? How does this relate to the sermon’s warning about nostalgia? [39:49]
2. Revelation 21:1 says the “sea” is gone. If the sea represents chaos, evil, and what humans cannot control, how might this vision shape a community facing suffering or uncertainty?
3. The sermon claims Christian hope is “as sure as the sunrise,” not wishful thinking. How do Isaiah’s “way in the wilderness” and Revelation’s “new earth” support this idea?
4. How does the sermon connect the “new horizon” in Revelation to practical actions like housing neighbors or fighting injustice? What makes this vision more than a distant ideal? [47:12]

1. What “prior things” (memories, habits, or traditions) might God be asking you to release to embrace a new season of grace? How could clinging to them blur your vision of what God is doing now? [49:23]
2. The sermon warns that “faith stuck in the rearview mirror” misses God’s new work. Where have you seen God quietly “sprouting” something unexpected in your life or community lately? How can you nurture that?
3. Revelation’s vision includes justice, safety, and inclusion. What tangible step could you take this week to reflect this “new horizon” in Charlottesville—like advocating for the marginalized or meeting a neighbor’s need? [48:39]
4. Communion is described as a place to bring “sadness, hunger, and hope.” What would it look like to approach Christ’s table this week with honesty about your uncertainties, rather than waiting to “figure everything out”?
5. The sermon charges the church to “show Charlottesville how radical Christ’s love is.” Where do you see the greatest need for radical love in your circles? How could you actively join God’s light in that darkness? [49:04]
6. Isaiah’s wilderness path and Revelation’s tear-free future both require trust in God’s presence. When has God’s faithfulness in a past trial strengthened your hope for an uncertain future? How can that memory fuel courage today?