A Birth Announcement
Isaiah 8: 17, 22-9: 7
Birth announcements are
precious. They say things like: Our
littlest love, welcome, introducing. They detail the date and length and
birth weight of the newest arrival to the family. They show pictures of the
newborn adorned in the prettiest white clothing. It’s a big deal. Of course the
baby’s name is included. The announcements are sent to friends and family
members. Now with the internet and Facebook, they can reach far and wide. Why
do we do such things? Why do we go to so much trouble? Because there is new
life and that life is part of us, part of who we are. In some ways, that new
life is the best part of who we are. We want everyone to know of our good news.
The gospels of Matthew
and Luke present birth narratives of Jesus. They are more than just
announcements. They describe some of the details of the Incarnation, the coming
of God to earth as a human. Then, there is the gospel of John, which tells us
that Jesus was there from the beginning of creation, but became flesh and dwelt
among us. The Luke narrative has been memorized by children for time immemorial:
“And there were in the same country
shepherds abiding in the fields, keeping watch over their flocks by night.”
And so it goes. But long before that night—eight centuries before it—there was
a birth announcement. We find it in the book of Isaiah in the ninth chapter.
Isaiah is one of the
major prophets of the Old Testament. He prophesied to the Southern Kingdom of
Judah through four different kings. He caught the tail end of Uzziah’s reign,
then Jotham, Ahaz and Hezekiah. Ahaz was the disaster of the three. His son
Hezekiah got the dubious assignment of cleaning up his father’s mess. The
prophecies in the book of Isaiah have often been asserted to be predictions of
the hope that Hezekiah’s reign would prove restorative. But one cannot read
this passage without feeling the depth and breadth of a prophecy that seems to
span centuries, looking beyond immediate relief and earthly rule to something
bigger and stronger---to something set apart.
The historical setting is
this. The kingdom of Judah has escaped the clutches of powerful Syria, but to
do so, they have made a pact with Assyria. It turned out to be an unholy
alliance. Their ally becomes their oppressor and the kingdom is, in the words
of Isaiah, turned into darkness. Our study opens with Isaiah promising to wait
for the Lord. But his promise is laced with a foreboding of despair for his people
as they have fallen under the shadow of Assyria. What follows is in stark
contrast to that image of darkness.
Isaiah points to a
future, but he does so in a very specific way. Theologian John Oswalt tells us that though
all of the events about to be predicted are in the future from the prophet’s
point of view, the verbs are all in the perfect tense. Isaiah has been given divine insight. It is
from that view that, though he speaks in the uncertainty of his own times, he
still can see into the future and describe its events as though they are completed actions. That’s what we do
when we use the perfect tense. He can see what will happen and talk about it as
done. This is not guessing. This is knowledge.
In the first verse of the
ninth chapter, Isaiah takes us far into the future. He speaks of a day to come
with no gloom, no darkness, a day when the land of Israel will again flourish.
And then Isaiah goes to a place where only divine knowledge can take him. He
says that in the latter time, that is, the future, God has made (see that future perfect tense working?) “glorious the way of the sea, the land beyond
the Jordan, the Galilee of the nations.” Isaiah is calling attention to
Galilee, the region where Jesus began his ministry on earth some eight hundred
years later. And Isaiah refers to the nations, not just Israel or Judah. In
other words, the time will come when God’s glory will be seen anew, and it will
begin in Galilee, and it will come to the nations, to the Gentiles. Isaiah has
just completely re-written the definition of God’s people. In the New
Testament, Paul echoes that thought in his letter to the Galatians (6: 15, 16),
where he calls Christians a new creation and refers to them as the Israel of God.
Isaiah now calls us to see this great
light which illuminates the nations. No longer shall we labor in a land of
darkness. It will be a time for joy. Listen to verse 4: “For every boot of the tramping warrior in battle tumult and every
garment rolled in blood will be burned as fuel for the fire.” No more
warriors. No more war. He whose birth is promised will break the yoke that
binds, whether it is the yoke of oppression or the yoke of sin. Freedom is
promised to both physical and spiritual oppression. And it all comes from God,
the author of this joy. Listen to the prophet: he [God] has made glorious…you [God] have multiplied…you [God] have
broken the yoke… These are not the works of man, but of God.
The words of verse six
are magnificent, no matter what the translation:
For unto us a child is born,
Unto us a son is given;
And the government shall be upon his
shoulder,
And his name shall be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Here is the great birth
announcement of history. Government will change. The world will change. And it
will all start with the birth of a child, a son. Yes, his lineage will come from
the stump of Jesse, King David, just as Isaiah predicts elsewhere, but the
lineage of this child, this son, will be deeper than any other. He will trace
his roots to the Trinity of God, Son and Holy Spirit. Look at the titles
bestowed upon this royal son: Wonderful
Counselor-all wise in his plans and purposes. Mighty God-an undefeatable warrior. Everlasting Father-the unbroken cord of kinship and family through
which he identifies with and cares for his people. Prince of Peace-this is the promise of a harmonious existence, much
more than simply a lack of war. And yet, in all these titles, there is the
conspicuous absence of the title of king. This son will be much more than an
earthly monarch. King, no; Royalty, beyond measure!
As beautiful as it is,
this birth announcement, why would God, the God of creation, of the universe,
choose to arrive as human on earth, much less a helpless baby? Here is one of
those God moments from which we can begin to see our Creator. The gospels, indeed all the New Testament and
the Reformed Confessions and Creeds, make it clear that Jesus was both divine
and human, fully God, fully man. What could be more human than the Incarnation,
the arrival of God on earth as a baby born to mankind? But there is more. If
God is the God of peace, who comes to bring peace, will he come as a warrior to
secure that peace? Hardly! He would come as he did, as the birth announcement
of Isaiah proclaims. John Oswalt says it beautifully: “God is strong enough to
overcome his enemies by becoming vulnerable, transparent, and humble---the only
hope, in fact, for turning enmity into friendship.”
What a birth
announcement! It’s a little different than those we see today. No height or
weight. The given name is withheld, but four titles take its place. It is full
of promise. Even more, it is full of promises. But, you might say, Isaiah
couldn’t know this. I think you’re right. He didn’t know. But God knew. In
verse 7, Isaiah includes this in the birth announcement: “Of the increase of his government and of peace there will be no end.” Does
that sound like an earthly king to you? No term limits. No termination. Just
increase followed by increase.
For unto us a
child is born,
Unto us a son is given…
The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do
this.
If there was ever a birth announcement that deserved a positive response
to its RSVP, this is the one!
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