[A comfortable chair is placed near the pulpit, in view of the congregation]

Behold ... the chair.

The seat of success in our high-tech economy.

Right along with food, shelter, clothing, and high-speed Internet access, the chair is becoming one of life's necessities. With all the time we spend sitting these days -- in front of a computer, a work station, a desk, or a table -- a comfortable chair is clearly a key to a quality existence.

[Take a seat in the chair] It's got to be the right height. Gotta have good lumbar support. A top-grade cushion is nice, as are some arm rests and a little rocking action. If the new economy demands anything, it's a comfortable place to sit as you manipulate your computer mouse, keyboard, laser printer, scanner and the like.

But where do you GO when you embark on a quest for comfort?

[Return to pulpit] Some folks are looking to a company called Herman Miller, a crafter of master seats. There's no comfy padding on their Aeron chair -- just polyester mesh, woven into a unique design that is light, flexible, mobile, resourceful, and utterly resilient. Posed like a damselfly on its off-center mechanical core, it is leveraged, restless, and always ready to serve. It is an example of what the seat scientists of the 21st century call "deep chairness."

Ooh ... that's nice. Deep chairness. Sounds pretty comfy, doesn't it?

A competing firm, called Humanscale, makes its padding from a silicon-like substance called TechnoGel -- a material that spreads weight with uncanny gentleness, thanks to its gelatinous buoyancy. The Humanscale chair has a waferlike seat that goes way beyond mere "cushioning." Wired Magazine says it's "like sitting in a puddle of your own flesh" (Bruce Sterling, "The Hot Seat," Wired, July 2000, 196ff).

Of course, seats this sweet are anything but cheap. The Aeron will cost you somewhere between $750 and $1,100. Humanscale's no-frills-price is a mere $985.

Care to raise the credit limit on your Visa card?

Seating comfort is not, of course, a world-class problem - not in this era of terrorist attacks and anthrax scares. Seriously, if your biggest dilemma is deciding between a $985 and a $1,100 office chair, there are only three words you need to hear: Get ... a ... life! We may joke about needing an Aeron, but the truth is that most of us are on a quest for a far more significant source of comfort. In the face of ravaging and relentless attacks on our well-being, we need support for our souls -- not simply our backsides.

In today's Scripture lesson, the prophet Isaiah addresses people whose despair is driven by truly earthshaking concerns. Their nation has been broken and scattered. Their homeland, community and families are in danger -- even their very lives. God says that when they pass through raging waters and walk through scorching fires, his presence will be with them. He will protect and restore them, for he is the one who has created and formed them -- he is the LORD their God, the Holy One of Israel, their Savior.

"Do not fear," says the LORD. "Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine" (43:1). What a message of comfort for a hurting and hopeless community.

Today we, like the Israelites, are passing through "the waters" (v. 2) -- through the raging rivers of suicide attacks, anthrax in the mail, and a war against terrorism that involves so many of our young men and women in the armed forces. Our anxiety has been high since the events of September 11, and it may be years before we feel like we are navigating smooth waters again … if ever.

But it would be wrong to assume that world events are our only concerns. There are also the dangerous waters that threaten us personally, or that engulf our friends and neighbors - the raging rivers of divorce, death, depression, and job disillusionment. Think of the couple whose marriage grows colder and colder, and then shatters like a block of ice ... the young parents who lose a cherished child to a killer cancer ... the retiree who becomes isolated, depressed, and then suicidal ... the computer techie who makes a fine salary but who absolutely dreads the thought of going to his cubicle each day.

Others are walking through fire -- through the flames of family conflict, spousal abuse, financial difficulties, and life-threatening disease. These are our neighbors, people feeling terrible pain as they pass through the waters and fires. They're not turned on by the tantalizing TechnoGel technology that turns an office chair into "a puddle of your own flesh" -- instead, they want simply to keep their flesh in one piece, out of the searing flames and the raging rivers that threaten them every day.

What concerns them is surviving. Not sitting.

Perhaps the same is true for us. Maybe our OWN quest for comfort goes beyond "deep chairness" as well. Along with all those in crisis around us, we are challenged to dig deep into this passage from Isaiah -- a passage that promises to give us a way through fires and waters, as well as a shot of strength and comfort in the face of trouble.

The good news is that we begin in a privileged position. Not a bad place to start. God created you, insists Isaiah. He formed you. He called you. He redeemed you (v. 1). No matter how bad life gets -- no matter how many disasters, divorces, deaths, disillusionments and disappointments we face -- nothing is going to change this connection we've been given. We can't be pulled down from our position as a created, formed, called and redeemed child of God.

Raging water can't do it. Neither can fire. "You are precious in my sight," says God through the prophet, "and honored, and I love you" (v. 4). That's a permanent commitment, from the creator of all that is, in heaven and on earth.

Our challenge is to trust the Lord, in a prayerful and intimate relationship. Not that this eliminates our struggles -- but it can make our burdens more bearable. So many people have counted on their relationship with God to sustain them through a variety of raging storms, and they haven't been disappointed. Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Phil Berrigan wrote journals while in prison, speaking convincingly of the power of prayer and love to overcome the power of fear. Mahatma Gandhi was able to walk alone into incredible violence between Hindus and Muslims in India because he was convinced that Jesus walked with him. Sister Helen Prejean -- whose story is portrayed in the movie Dead Man Walking -- discovered that she could go into death row, develop a relationship with a convicted murderer, face all the recriminations that flowed from that relationship, and then accompany him at the moment of death. All of these people stayed in touch with the Awesome One who had created, formed, called and redeemed them (James McGinnis, "Go Out into the Deep," Weavings, March-April 1999, 42-43).

But is this connection enough? Maybe not. A relationship alone doesn't have power to protect us. We also need the assurance that God is taking aggressive action in our lives.

That's why the promise in Isaiah is so powerful: When you pass through the waters ... the waters of disaster, divorce, death, depression and disillusionment ... I will be with you, says the LORD. When you pass through the rivers ... the rivers of terrorist threats, failing marriages, dying children, and despair-filled days ... they shall not overwhelm you. I will be with you to bring you new love, new life, new opportunities, new hope.

You see, the LORD is an active God, not just a passive presence. When you walk through fire you shall not be burned ... even if the fire is warfare, conflict, abuse, bankruptcy, or disease. God is always working to bring peace out of violence, good out of evil, and life out of death. Although we will certainly feel the heat, and may even get singed, with the LORD at work in our lives the flames shall not consume us (v. 2).

But that's not all. Sometimes we ourselves can act as channels of God's amazingly active involvement in human life. At times, we can reveal the power and presence of the LORD to a neighbor who is in danger of destruction. When Sister Helen Prejean asked the condemned man if he wanted her to be present at his execution, he said yes. She went on to tell him, "At that last moment, Patrick, look into my eyes and I will be the face of Christ for you." When death came, he was not alone. He was with God.

The quest for comfort always ends here: In the presence of the God who creates, forms, calls and redeems us, and who works actively and aggressively for good in our lives. The ultimate good is not "deep chairness," it seems, but instead "deep faithfulness" -- the deep faithfulness of Almighty God.

So, in the end, where do you really want to sit? In a puddle of your own flesh? Or in the lap of the LORD God? Amen.