Christmas Eve 1st Reading

Isaiah 9:2-7

Aaron Bolerjack

Christmas Eve’s Old Testament passage is among the most famous -and most frequently quoted- prophecies in all of scripture. Isaiah 9 was recorded in the heady days of King Hezekiah, the (mostly) godly Judean king who dared defy the Assyrian warrior-king Sennacherib. It was quoted frequently by Pharisees and Sadducees in Jesus’ own day, and was repeatedly referenced in the Gospel of Matthew to persuade a Jewish audience of Christ’s messianic bona fides.

In short: Isaiah 9 has been venerated by First Temple Jews, Jews in exile, Second Temple Jews, diaspora Jews -and of course Christians- for roughly 27 centuries.

Its verses also comprise some of the most famous lines in George Frideric Handel’s Messiah, perhaps the most famous work of choral music in human history. In fact, I double-dog-dare you to read through this passage without humming parts of the Messiah to yourself.

You can’t do it. I can’t do it. No one can! It is impossible.

But I digress.

The prophecies of God’s past, present, and future faithfulness contained in Isaiah 9:2-7 are a stirring reminder that the God of Israel’s youth can be trusted once more in her times of (self-inflicted) trial. This prophetic testimony has comforted God’s afflicted people for more than 2,700 years, and in doing so inspired some of humanity’s most enduring works of religious poetry and prose.

And it’s just about perfect for explaining Advent.

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness—on them light has shined.”

Here Isaiah speaks to more than just metaphorical, spiritual darkness. The peoples of Zebulun and Naphtali were among the hardest-hit by Aramean and later Assyrian invasions of the northern kingdom of Israel.

And those Assyrians did not mess around; they committed some of the most heinous atrocities ever recorded in the Ancient Near East. Pillaging. Rape. Mutilation. Public execution. And such a broad, horrific variety of torture methods that I will let you look them up on your own. (Helpful hint: I do not recommend a Google image search for “staking”).

But now Isaiah, a prophet of the southern kingdom of Judah, has good news for these seemingly forgotten Galileans: good news is coming, and it is coming to and through and for and from you.

A light will shine in the darkness, and the darkness will not overcome it.

“You have multiplied the nation, you have increased its joy; they rejoice before you as with joy at the harvest, as people exult when dividing plunder.”

Here Isaiah reminds the peoples of both Israel and Judah that God can be trusted. The same God who promised to make an aged Abraham’s descendants “as numerous as the sands on the seashore” has indeed helped grow them into a formidable people group.

In doing so, Isaiah suggests two images common amongst the agrarian, tribal peoples of the Ancient Near East: the bounty of a successful harvest and the division of spoils after military victory. The Hebrew word for “nation” used here, haggow, could also be read “the people”; it signifies a group of insiders whose joy has come seemingly at the expense of defeated outsiders.

But is this the kind of kingdom God means to reinstate in a united Israel?

“For the yoke of their burden, and the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor, you have broken as on the day of Midian.”

Once more, Isaiah reminds his Jewish audience that God can be trusted. Here the prophet evokes the story of Gideon, an unlikely hero from the tribe of Manasseh. During the period of the Judges, God used Gideon and 300 valiant warriors to chase thousands of Midianite soldiers from the nearby Valley of Jezreel in Galilee.

Isaiah also claims that God’s new work in and through Israel will subvert the oppressive, violent status quo of nation building. Yokes of slavery and servitude will be broken; weapons of political and economic coercion will be shattered.

This always-faithful God is doing a new thing.

“For all the boots of the tramping warriors and all the garments rolled in blood shall be burned as fuel for the fire.”

Here we see that the restoration of Israel will not be accomplished through ordinary, violent means. The time for military marches will come to an end. Battles and bloodshed will eventually cease. And one day the deathly debris they leave behind will serve only to fuel a fire burning in the darkness.

A fire of refinement, redemption, and -ultimately- restoration.

God is on the move.

“For a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders; and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”

First things first: the Hebrew name(s) for this child are way, way too cool to gloss over: Pele-joez-el-gibbor-abi-ad-sar-shalom. How awesome is that? Roughly translated, it reads something like “Wonderful in counsel is God the mighty, the Father of the World to Come, the Ruler of Peace.”

In other words: whoever this child is, he is going to have some seriously powerful, definitely-able-to-restore-Israel mojo. Wisdom. Might. Immortality. And…Peace?

One of these things is not (necessarily) like the others.

“His authority shall grow continually, and there shall be endless peace for the throne of David and his kingdom.”

Isaiah’s hearers would have liked the sound of that! Remember, the prophet was speaking to the remnants of a long-divided Israel, one whose (much larger) northern kingdom lay in ruins. More specifically, Isaiah addressed regions of Galilee that had been laid waste by Midianites, Amalekites, Arameans, and Assyrians in turn.

Cue the military conquest! Lace up your boots, grab a weapon, and let’s get to smiting God’s enemies (who will almost certainly look a lot like our enemies).

But wait: “…there shall be endless peace for the throne of David and his kingdom.”

Umm. What? That doesn’t sound much like Israel. And it definitely, definitely does not sound like David, a man to whom God reportedly said, “You have shed much blood and have waged great wars; you shall not build a house to my name, because you have shed so much blood in my sight on the earth.” (1 Chron. 22:8)

Clearly, a peaceful kingdom ruled from the throne of David will be a new and welcome development for both Judah and Israel. Much less their neighbors in a region so ravaged by imperial warfare and invasions that it came to be known as “Galilee of the Gentiles” for the mixed-up social, political, and religious identities of its inhabitants!

Jews and Gentiles. Insiders and outsiders. Oppressors and oppressed.

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light.”

Who else but God could do this?

“He will establish and uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time onward and forevermore. The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this.”

This kingdom will be like nothing ever seen before.

An always-faithful God will both establish and uphold it. An always-faithful king will rule with both justice and righteousness. This kingdom has already begun, but is not yet completed. And the whole thing will be held together by…peace?

Who could imagine it? Who could accomplish it?

“The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this.”

If you’ve read your Old Testament closely, you know that you do not mess with the zeal of the LORD of hosts.

That zeal is essentially credited for two things in the Hebrew scriptures; the first is destroying the enemies of God, usually with fire and/or the sword. That’s clearly not what is going on here (indeed, quite the opposite).

A second way that the zeal of the LORD is repeatedly invoked throughout the Old Testament is as a sort of guarantee that God with faithfully keep God’s covenantal promises: “I will be your God. I will count you as my people. And I will watch over you in The Land.”

Even here and now. In the wake of kingless chaos. In the midst of slavery and shadow.

“Those who lived in a land of deep darkness—on them light has shined.”

This is the word of the LORD. Thanks be to God!

About the Contributor

Executive Pastor, Oklahoma First Church of the Nazarene

Aaron Bolerjack