Where the streets have no name
Photo by Karsten Würth on Unsplash
“Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt; you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; you shall be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of streets to live in.” Isaiah 58:12 NRSV
Whenever I read this Isaiah passage about the repairer of the breach, the restorer of the streets to live in, interestingly what comes to mind is the classic U2 song, Where the streets have no name. For years I listened to that song for the pure enjoyment of its sound, but only more recently did I come to learn the legendary meaning behind the title.
In Ireland, the birthplace of the iconic band and home of its lead singer, Bono, street names are indicative of the class of those who reside in them. In other words, one can assume a person’s economic, social, and even religious status based on learning the name of their street. The street names lead to a presumption about a person, for better or worse. The song’s expressed desire for a place where the streets have no name is the hope for justice—for the reality of one’s deemed worth to transcend wherever they’re from.
The verse and the song have led me to think more deeply about the notion of streets in general. They are the very things that allow us to be connected—to get from my house to yours—and yet they are also what divide us if not truly considered or cared for in a just and merciful way.
The 58th chapter of Isaiah is the prophetic word God gave to His people many years ago, but I can’t help but see its Divine relevance for us today. God was most specifically speaking to those in power as they attempted to appear righteous in their religious fast to God, a pious act on their part, seen by God for what it truly was. God’s plea through His prophet was to essentially say to the elite, stop putting on ash and sackcloth; stop acting as though you are starving for what is right because at the same time you are exploiting those who work for you every day. Their fast was not what God desired; it was hypocrisy. God knew the hearts of the people and that their true motive was more about self-aggrandizement than it was about honorable living.
I see sobering parallels today. It’s easy for us to lead lives of righteousness in terms of appearance and doing good things, but how are the systems and structures by which we daily function affecting the “least of these”? What is my fast accomplishing if, when I’m ready to eat again, I freely indulge in the choicest produce that was harvested by day workers who can’t feed their families because they don’t earn a living wage? Or what is my clothing donation really profiting when I then turn around and buy new clothes made by exploited factory workers on the other side of the globe?
I’m learning that the “fast” God honors is the one that truly seeks justice. That’s what Isaiah 58 is all about, and it’s the continuous theme of the entire Biblical narrative. It speaks to the reality that God honors the humble posture of a heart that earnestly and honestly seeks Him over the outward expression of pious righteousness any day.
In the midst of God’s stinging reproach in Isaiah 58, verses 12-14 offer great hope because God reveals it’s not too late! It’s still possible to turn from our pseudo-righteous living to not only become the agents of redemption He’s ordained us to be, but to raise up the foundations of many generations (v. 12). I don’t know about you, but I will seek to be a repairer of the breach, and a restorer of streets to live in…. raising up the foundations of many generations.
Because I believe streets should serve only to connect us, I will live and work for the day, the time, and the place…
where the streets have no name.
~em