Morning, Church.
This morning we're continuing our Advent sermon series,
examining the prophecies of Isaiah.
Our passage is from Isaiah chapter 9, verses 1 through 7 this morning.
You can find this passage on page 536 in one of the Pew Bibles in front of you.
If you're new to the Bible, the big numbers you see on the pages of the chapters
and the smaller numbers of the verses,
so you can also use that to help you navigate to the passage as well.
As you're finding your way there, let me open us up with a word of prayer.
Father God, we thank you that you have revealed yourself to us through your word,
and we thank you that in this season of Advent we can pause to reflect
on the coming of your word through the birth of Jesus.
We ask this morning that you would be present with us
and that the light of your gospel would shine,
that you would be glorified and we would be edified by the study of your word.
We pray that you would reveal yourself to us through your word this morning,
and we pray this in the name of Jesus.
Amen.
Well, the Christmas season is in full swing now,
and every year the season brings with it a flood of activity.
And most likely with that activity comes a flood of emotions.
Between the Christmas parties, the family get-togethers,
traveling, shopping, distributing cards, and packing ourselves full of sugar,
we can find ourselves staring down the barrel of the season with anticipation,
dread, or maybe a little bit of both.
But if we slow down a bit and we dial into the tone of the season,
we may also find ourselves feeling a sense of transcendence,
a sense of hope in something beyond our little sphere of influence.
One of my favorite activities during the season is driving around
and checking out the light displays in town.
In a season when the sun is setting very early in the day,
Christmas light displays bring an added sense of joy in the darkness.
It engages the community, and it adds flavor and distinctiveness
that we don't otherwise see in our neighbors' homes.
It feels like we can almost know our neighbors in a new way.
There are people in our town that I know nothing about,
but I know they're the kind of family that feels a sense of representation
by penguins and polar bears or snowflakes or the Grinch
or my favorite so far this year, a saxophoning snowman.
When we take the time to pause and examine the glowing lights,
we might find that the cold air and the nagging darkness
are momentarily suppressed by warmth and joy.
There's a wonder in the Christmas season that I think we all long to embrace,
even in the midst of our busy schedules,
and even more so in some of the brokenness
that can be so magnified by the stress of the season.
Unfortunately, things like Christmas light displays
don't really satisfy this hunger for transcendence.
The momentary feeling of hope or joy
fades as we realize it's still cold,
it's still dark,
and maybe our neighbor isn't actually as cool
as his saxophoning snowman.
We're the neighbor, by the way.
But our passage today helps us locate the hope of this season
in its rightful place.
There is a light that shines in the darkness,
one that brings knowledge of its source.
And with that knowledge,
hope and a new life and transformation
So let me read for us our passage.
Again, that's Isaiah chapter 9, verses 1 through 7.
But there will be no gloom for her who was in anguish.
In the former time, he brought into contempt
the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali.
But in the latter time,
he has made glorious the way of the sea,
the land beyond the Jordan,
Galilee of the nations.
The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light.
Those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness,
on them has light shone.
You have multiplied the nation.
You have increased its joy.
They rejoice before you as with joy at the harvest,
as they are glad when they divide the spoil.
For the yoke of his burden
and the staff for his shoulder,
the rod of his oppressor,
you have broken as on the day of Midian.
For every boot of the tramping warrior
in battle tumult
and every garment rolled in blood
will be burned as fuel for the fire.
For to us, a child is born.
To 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.
Of the increase of his government and of peace,
there will be no end.
On the throne of David and over his kingdom
to establish it and to uphold it
with justice and with righteousness
from this time forth and forevermore,
the zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this.
So again, we're in the middle of our Advent series
and last week we heard this theme from Isaiah 7
declaring the good news of God's arrival in our world.
This was proclaimed through the prophecy
that the virgin would conceive and bear a son
and call his name Emmanuel, our God with us.
So now we have this second prophecy
which again points to the birth of a child
and expounds upon the hope
that this brings to the people of God.
This hope is rooted in what we see in verse 2
that those who were walking in darkness
have seen a great light.
And to grasp the magnitude of the hope
that this light offers,
it's helpful to get a sense of the historical context.
At this point, Isaiah was prophesying
to the nation of Judah,
a nation facing significant geopolitical turmoil.
Last week, Pastor Nick detailed
some of the historical background here
so I won't repeat everything that he said.
But the bottom line is that Ahaz,
the king of Judah,
made a decision to form a political alliance
with Assyria.
Assyria was on a mission of conquest.
So other nations,
including Judah's sister nation of Israel,
were pressuring Ahaz to form an alliance
with them against Assyria.
In the midst of this turmoil,
Ahaz rejected God's assurance
and instead trusted in the strength of Assyria
to protect Judah from this anti-Assyrian alliance.
And it worked for a time,
but following Ahaz's decision,
Isaiah prophesied that Israel and Judah
would both ultimately find themselves
in utter darkness.
In the preceding verse,
chapter 8, verse 22,
we read,
And they will look to the earth,
but behold,
distress and darkness,
the gloom of anguish,
and they will be thrust
into thick darkness.
For Judah,
this vision meant
that they would later be oppressed
by the same nation that saved them.
And even longer term,
they would fall victim
to the Babylonian Empire
and be exiled from their land.
This vision foreshadowed
a complete devastation
of everything they held dear.
Their land would be decimated,
completely ruining
their agricultural economy.
The temple,
the center of their community,
would be destroyed,
and they would no longer have a place
to gather and worship.
Many of them would be uprooted
from their homes,
with families at times being split.
They'd be transported by force
to a land they didn't know,
where they didn't speak the language,
and where they had no sense
of national identity.
We can imagine the sense of loss
and the sense of lostness
they probably felt.
In our passage,
Isaiah refers to the people
walking in deep darkness,
and there's actually
a bit of wordplay happening here,
where he's combining
two Hebrew words
to form a sort of compound phrase.
Death, darkness.
Other translations render this
as shadow of death,
and it points to this idea
that the shadow cast
by their current circumstances
is so expansive
and so dark
that it feels
as though they're walking in death.
But,
there was hope.
Verse 2 says,
the people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light.
Those who dwelt
in a land of deep darkness,
on them
has light shone.
Well, that certainly sounds
like good news,
but what is the light?
What is the light exactly?
And where does it come from?
The good news is actually
in the source of the light,
the person from whom
the light is shining.
Like our Christmas light displays
that tell the world
just a little bit about us,
there's something
that we can learn,
someone that we can know
by this light.
And that person
is foretold in verse 6.
For unto us
a child is born,
to us
a son
is given.
The people walking
in darkness
have seen
a great light,
a light that is located
squarely in the birth
of this child.
God himself
would come from his throne
to dwell with his people
in the messiness
of their humanity,
and his coming
would itself
be the good news,
the great light
shining into the darkness
of our world.
God is the good news,
this child is Jesus Christ,
the one that Hebrews
describes as the radiance
of God's glory
and the exact imprint
of his nature.
He is not simply
God's representative,
not simply God's delegate,
but quite literally
God in the flesh.
God in the flesh,
born unto us
in full humanity
and the one
and only God
of the universe,
fully divine
and given to us
by God himself.
Throughout this passage,
Isaiah expounds
on the nature
of this hope
that he locates
in the birth of Jesus.
In the first part
of the passage,
we see that the light
of Jesus' birth
gives us hope
in God's rescue,
and in the rest
of the passage,
we see the hope
that it provides
in God's reign.
Hope in God's rescue
and hope in God's reign,
and it's these two aspects
I want to dial into today.
So first,
let's look at the hope
and the rescue.
We need to consider
a couple of things here.
We need to appreciate
not only the circumstances
from which we are rescued,
but also the way
in which God executes
this rescue mission.
So first,
there's a helpful pattern
in these verses
that describe being rescued
from something hopeless
and into something glorious.
We see this in verse 1,
which says,
in the former time,
he brought into contempt
the land of Zebulun
and the land of Naphtali,
but in the latter time,
he has made glorious
the way of the sea,
the land beyond the Jordan,
Galilee of the nations.
Zebulun and Naphtali
were areas
in the northern kingdom
of Israel
and were likely
the first to fall victim
to the Assyrian Empire.
This is the contempt
that Isaiah is prophesying.
He's saying that
the Israelites
will indeed experience
darkness and contempt
through conquest
by other empires,
but that they will
also be rescued
from this contempt
and into glory.
And this is something
of a headline
that summarizes
the action of the Lord
in this saving.
The following verses
help to illustrate
what it means
to be rescued
by a holy
and righteous God.
In verse 2,
they're rescued
from darkness
and into light.
In verse 3,
they're rescued
from despair
and into joy,
from oppression
to freedom
in verse 4,
from tumult
into peace
in verse 5.
There's a sobering reality
in this.
Our sin,
like that of the Israelites
at that time,
leads to separation
from God.
This deep darkness
in which they walked
illustrates our own sin
and our own
spiritual darkness.
This is an uncomfortable truth
that we often find
difficult to embrace
in our culture.
But the Bible is clear.
We all have chosen
safety and comfort
and pleasure
in other gods.
We all have fallen short
of the glory
of the one true God,
as Romans says.
For Ahaz,
he relied on his own wisdom
and placed his confidence
in a geopolitical ally.
For us,
we may find ourselves
trusting in different gods.
Gods of money,
relationships,
power,
and influence.
In any case,
our sin ultimately
invites judgment
marked by darkness,
despair,
bondage,
and tumult.
But,
if we deal seriously
with the reality
of our sin
and God's righteousness,
there is good news.
In these verses,
the descriptors
of God's mercy
bring hope and joy
to a very dark picture.
We are not just saved
from darkness,
from gloom,
from contempt.
Fundamentally,
we are saved
from death
and into life.
So how exactly
is God going about
this rescue?
We have the answer
in the beginning
of verse 6.
For unto us
a child is born,
to us
a son
is given.
The birth of this child
is said to be
the deciding moment
at which God's
rescue mission
comes to bear.
God has shown
a great light
on his people.
He has increased
their joy.
He has removed
the rod of their oppressor
because this child
enters into the world.
You see,
this child
who was the exact
imprint of God's nature
came to pay the price
for our sin.
And in doing so,
he would bear
all of the shame,
all of the guilt,
and all of the brokenness
of this world.
And he would bear it
on his shoulders
as he hung
on the cross.
This good news
of the coming
of Christ
is one that brings
with it
a release.
For some,
darkness may mean
the ongoing struggle
with addiction
or loneliness.
For others,
it may mean
a constant exhaustion
from parenting
or caretaking.
Maybe there's never
any certainty
or regularity
with your job
or your finances
or maybe
you're grappling
with the new reality
of ailing health
that has no
clear solution.
The darkness
often feels
unrelenting
and the truth is,
left to our own devices,
the darkness
doesn't simply persist.
It's eternal
and it's hopeless.
to battle
addiction alone
is certainly
to fail.
We cannot
simply run out
and find a good friend
or a good partner
or a good spouse
just because we're lonely.
The exhaustion
of caretaking
will always creep in
leading to moments
of anger
and bitterness
and even the best
doctors in the world
cannot stop
death.
But the birth
of Jesus
brings with it
the hope
of an end
to the darkness.
With Jesus
we have an advocate
that saves us
from the bondage
of addiction
and into the freedom
of good
and natural desires.
In our loneliness
we're given
a comforter
and a friend.
In our weakness
and frustration
we are given
a caretaker
who is patient
and long
suffering.
Our bodies
will certainly
fail us
but in Jesus
we are given
a hope
in new life
that will never end.
We hope
in the one
who is powerful
enough to conquer
sin and death
and we hope
in the one
who loved us
so sacrificially
that he died
for us
so that we could
be reconciled
to him.
So when we
consider what it
means for this light
to shine
into the dark
darkness
I think a lot
of us
would tend
to think
of this
as just
a relief.
Maybe it's
like walking
outside
and remembering
the feeling
of the sun
shining on your
face after a few
cloudy days.
You feel it
you revel in it
and then you go
about your day
a little bit warmer
and a little bit
happier.
And certainly
the light of Jesus
seen through his
birth does bring
warmth and relief
in its hopeful message.
change.
But it's more
than that.
We're not just
walking through
life under a cloud
and we're like
boats being
tossed around
at night in the
middle of a storm
on the sea.
There's not
just darkness.
There's uncertainty.
There's fear
and danger.
There's a lostness
and a vulnerability
because it's so
dark and so
stormy that
without a light
we simply
cannot navigate
our way out.
So this light
that shines
in the darkness
is more like
a lighthouse.
Yes,
in the midst
of the storm
it brings hope
and it brings
relief.
But it elicits
these feelings
because the light
is directional.
This light
beckons to us.
turn the ship.
Turn from your
endless pursuit
of perfection
in your social
influence,
in your job,
in your relationships.
Turn from your
striving for
worldly success.
Turn from your
love of things
that are temporal,
that are finite,
from the things
that will ultimately
disappoint.
Turn from your
sin,
Jesus says.
Come to me,
all you who
are weary,
and I will
give you rest
for my yoke
is easy
and my burden
is kind.
Friends,
the light
gives us hope
because it gives
us direction.
It points to the
way out of the
storm,
out of sin,
out of darkness,
out of death,
and into life.
And that way
out is Jesus,
the way,
the truth,
and the life.
So we have
hope in God's
rescue.
But we said
there's also
hope in God's
reign.
Skeptics might
wonder,
into what kind
of life
have I been
saved?
Have I just
been extricated
from one oppressor
only to be adopted
by another?
Indeed,
being saved,
so to speak,
is really only
good news to the
extent that our
Savior is good.
Ahaz found this
out the hard way.
In response to the
pressure from the
northern kingdom,
he sought protection
in political alliances
that would ultimately
oppress him.
So is our Savior
good?
Well,
the remainder of our
passage in chapter 9
shows us that Jesus
is not only our
rescuer,
but he is also
our good and
faithful king.
We're naturally
averse to the idea
of a king because
such centralization
of power has often
gone so poorly
for humanity.
But friends,
Jesus is not a
king like those
that we've seen
in history,
and his reign
is unlike any
other.
He is the
wonderful counselor,
the mighty God,
everlasting father,
and prince of peace.
When we talk about
advent or coming
or arrival,
we're typically
thinking of the
first arrival of God
through the birth
of Jesus,
Jesus.
But here in the
second half of the
passage,
Isaiah is already
looking forward to
Jesus' second
advent when he'll
come in glory to
establish his
everlasting kingdom.
This is what we
read earlier in the
passage from Luke.
The angel speaking
to Mary in her
pregnancy is
affirming Jesus as
the fulfillment of
this prophecy.
It reads,
He, that is Jesus,
will be great and
will be called the
Son of the Most
High.
The Lord God
will give him
the throne of
his father David
and he will reign
over Jacob's
descendants forever.
His kingdom
will never end.
You know,
it's striking to
see that the
prophecy is cast
in terms of
geopolitical turmoil.
The hope that's
promised was
understood by the
Israelites as the
coming of a
political and
military leader,
one that would
break the bondage
of national oppressors
and reestablish
temple worship and
restore the nation
of Israel to its
rightful place in
the world.
But Jesus didn't
come to save his
people by political
or military might.
He came to earth
to usher in a
kingdom defined by
the things that the
world has despised.
This is what Isaiah
means when he names
this child.
Jesus, the
wonderful counselor,
will reign not
through fear and
anger, but with
patience and
imperfect wisdom.
Jesus, the mighty
God, will establish
his kingdom not
by subjugation,
but through radical
self-sacrifice.
Jesus, the
everlasting Father,
reigns in love from
the beginning and
will reign forevermore.
And Jesus, the
Prince of Peace,
will oversee a
kingdom where sin,
brokenness, and
death will end.
And we will no more
be at enmity with
God because of our
sin.
If we need evidence
of the goodness of
our King, we needn't
look any further than
Jesus' crucifixion.
Jesus, residing in
heaven and needing
nothing, laid aside
his very glory to
come to earth in
human form.
And living on earth,
knowing that he had
the power to establish
his kingdom by force,
chose instead to
suffer the injustice
and the contempt and
the humiliation of
dying the most
excruciating and
shameful death
possible.
Death on a cross.
He did this in our
place, and he did it
in love, so that by
rising back from the
dead, he would rescue
his people, conquer
sin and death, and
establish his kingdom
and rule forever in
glory.
So there is good
news in a good
Savior who rescues
us into his good
kingdom.
So what's the
kingdom like?
When we hear the
kingdom of God, we
may subconsciously
think of a faraway
place where we go
after we die.
And if we're being
honest, we kind of
struggle to envision
what this kingdom
will actually look
like.
There's a cartoon by
Gary Larson, a part of
the Far Side series,
where a guy who's made
it to heaven is
sitting, he's perched
on his own little
individual cloud, he's
got his robe on, his
halo's intact, and he's
just thinking to
himself, I kind of wish
I'd brought a magazine.
This cartoon's a
light-hearted way of
exposing a real
deficiency in our
souls.
We are so
entangled with our
messiness that we're
unable to fathom the
joy of a world without
sin, without pain and
suffering.
If we're honest, we
may even find in the
darkest corners of our
hearts that we might
mourn the loss of our
messiness in the
exchange for something
greater.
C.S. Lewis says in
his book, The Weight of
Glory, it would seem
that our Lord finds
our desires not too
strong, but too weak.
We're half-hearted
creatures fooling about
with drink and sex and
ambition when infinite
joy is offered us, like
an ignorant child who
wants to go on making
mud pies in a slum,
because he cannot
imagine what is meant
by the offer of a
holiday at the sea.
We are far too easily
pleased, he says.
God's kingdom is not
just some far away
escape where we go
when we die, and it's
not just some quiet
existence where we sit
in boring tranquility
because all of the
interesting things of the
world have been washed
away.
The kingdom of God is
rich with majesty, with
renewal, and with glory.
The joy we might feel
marveling at creation when
we watch a sunrise from
the summit of a
mountaintop is only a
small token of the
grandeur of his kingdom.
But the amazing thing
about this kingdom is
that it's not just a
future glory, but a very
current reality.
This kingdom is one that
God is already ushering
in through the birth and
the death and resurrection
of Jesus.
Jesus' earthly ministry was
a foreshadowing of the
kingdom that's ultimately
to come, one in which the
outcast is welcomed, the
blind are made to see, the
lame are made to walk, and
the dead are raised to life.
So this hope that we have in
the kingdom gives us more
than just a hope for relief
in the future.
Like those walking with
Jesus during his earthly
ministry, it gives us a hope
and restoration here and
now.
When we believe in the Lord
Jesus and we repent of our
sins, we are saved from
death and we are raised to a
new spiritual life as members
of his kingdom.
And God not only calls us into
his kingdom, but he calls us to
partake in the cultivation of
the kingdom.
He promises to use us to
glorify himself.
And in this we can find hope
and joy even in the midst of
our darkness, knowing that God
is working in and through us to
redeem the brokenness in the
world.
We've been hearing quite a bit
about this kingdom this fall as
we've been working our way through
the Sermon on the Mount.
We began with the Beatitudes in
that series.
Blessed are the poor in spirit.
Blessed are those who mourn.
Blessed are the meek, the hungry,
the thirsty, the pure in heart,
the peacemakers, the persecuted,
the reviled.
If you haven't heard these sermons,
I'd encourage you to go back into
the archive and listen to them.
There's a richness in understanding
the depth of meaning in these
terms.
But the broader point here is that
those who are blessed in the
kingdom of God are not the ones
who bring knowledge and power and
wealth and success and influence to
the table.
They are the lowly in heart.
Those who come to the throne of God
knowing they bring nothing but their
empty, open hands.
And with their empty hands,
they become tools in God's hands
to bring the good news of the gospel
to the ends of the earth.
Contrast this against our world right now.
How are you valued in the world?
Politicians value you for your vote.
Corporations value you for your labor.
The free market values you for your money.
Academia values you for your intellect.
Even in our personal lives,
the sin that permeates humanity
means that we're often
feeling valued because we're good friends,
good kids, good spouses,
good parents,
even good Christians.
And if any of these things stop being true,
then what?
Is it any wonder that we find ourselves
toiling in anxiety and despair and darkness?
But the hope of the gospel is that
through faith in Jesus,
we can live in a kingdom
where we are not valued because of what we bring,
but because of what God did for us.
God created us and loved us so much
that he was willing to die for us
even while we were still walking in darkness,
still rejecting him,
still dead in our sins.
Friends, the gods of our society today
are very harsh masters.
They demand everything from us
and offer little in return.
Knowledge and social status
and money and sex and relationships.
As gifts, these things are wonderful,
but as gods, they are ruthless.
A life spent in endless pursuit of these things
leads to toiling, to disappointment,
to bitterness and despair.
These things cannot satisfy our souls.
We were not designed for that.
We were made for life with God.
Jesus is God's greatest display
of his power and his righteousness,
and it's in this power
that God rescues his people
and will ultimately restore his creation.
This light beckons to us
like a lighthouse in the distance
amidst our dark and stormy circumstances.
This light is the light of Jesus,
God in the flesh,
God with us.
Come to him,
and he will give you rest.
Let's pray.
Father God,
we thank you that in love
you came to save us,
and in power
you rose victorious
over sin and death.
We pray that during this season of Advent
that you would align our hearts to you
and that the birth of Jesus
would be an ever-present reminder to us
of your sacrificial love
and the light that it brings.
Lord, we thank you for this hope
that we have in Jesus,
and it's in his precious
and holy name that we pray.
Amen.