The Child of Prophecy

Good morning, church.

It's such a privilege to bring to you guys God's word as we continue on in our Advent series.

Today we're actually going to be taking a break from the book of Matthew.

We're going to open up to the book of Isaiah.

Isaiah in the Old Testament.

We're going to be reading Isaiah chapter 9, verses 1 to 7.

Isaiah 9:1–7

If you are in need of a Bible, please feel free to raise your hand.

One of us would be happy to grab a physical copy of a Bible that you can have and hold.

It's our Christmas gift to you.

Isaiah chapter 9, verses 1 to 7.

Isaiah 9:1–7

Let me pray for the reading of God's word.

Heavenly Father, Christmas is just a few days away.

And we thank you for it.

We thank you for the reminder that to a people in darkness, in deep darkness, you have not abandoned.

To a sinful people you have not rejected.

But you have come.

You have saved us.

You have sent a child.

And so we pray.

Over the next hour, won't you open our eyes, illuminate our hearts, our eyes to see what a glorious child this is.

A child whose name is unparalleled, unprecedented.

The child we long to serve and worship for all eternity.

We want to know this child, this boy, more.

So help us.

Fill us with your spirit.

My words are all for naught unless your spirit falls afresh and fills this room.

So we need you.

We need you, Father.

Father, we humble ourselves before the king.

And ask that you would teach us today.

So do that, Lord.

In Jesus' name we pray.

Amen.

If you would rise, if you are able, for the reading of God's word.

Isaiah 9.

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 shown.

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.

This is God's holy and authoritative word.

You may be seated.

It was one of the most miserable nights of my life.

During my summer on missions in Indonesia, I was forced to go on this kayak camping trip.

I spent six weeks at that point in the sweltering heat under the brutal sun in Indonesia.

So I packed lightly for this trip.

Thinking that it would be really just more of the same.

But I didn't factor in that this river that I'd be kayaking on wrapped around the mountains.

Meaning that the temperature would be significantly cooler.

During the day, while kayaking in the sun, that hardly mattered.

But once we pulled up onto the bank to camp for the night and the sun slowly started to set.

I started feeling colder and colder.

And when it came time to sleep, even though I was in a sleeping bag, in a hammock,

I was so cold that I'm pretty sure I didn't sleep more than an hour.

I was exhausted, spent from the day, but I had to curl up in a ball,

shivering, chattering my teeth throughout the night.

When I got up to try to see if there's anything that I could do,

it was entirely pitch black.

I've never seen anything really that dark.

No moonlight, no starlight, no artificial lights.

Just an obsidian black.

I have never waited for the sun as much as I have that one night.

I lost completely all sense of time.

I didn't know if I had five hours to wait or five minutes to wait.

But once dawn broke,

I have never been so happy to see the sun,

to feel its warmth,

to see its rays pierce through the darkness.

It literally sent shivers down my spine.

In just a few short days, we celebrate Christmas.

We watch movies, exchange gifts,

gather around delicious food as we should.

But lest we forget, Christmas is joyful,

jovial, not because of the festivities and the food in themselves,

but because Christmas marks the in-breaking of light.

The first glow of dawn in a world long wrapped in night.

For this weary world waits and waits and waits for hope,

for peace, for light.

Just as I waited for that sun that night.

And our passage this morning teaches us that

dawn indeed is coming.

And it's found in an unexpected source.

In the giving of a child.

Of a boy.

And so, Isaiah exhorts us,

we need to hope in this child

who brings light to a despairing dark world.

That's the main point of my message today.

And in turn, we're going to talk about the darkness,

the dawn,

and finally the deliverer.

First, before we delve into this passage,

it's important to set the context,

to understand its context.

Isaiah prophesied during the 8th century BC

in both the northern kingdom of Israel

and the southern kingdom of Judah.

This time period is not an era of peace,

of abundance,

like King David had ushered in centuries ago.

No, since then,

bit by bit,

battle by battle,

Israel has been bleeding out,

losing its wealth,

its power,

its glory,

to its surrounding nations.

And in particular,

in his life,

Isaiah sees God

raise a prominent superpower from the east

named Assyria.

Because of the threat of Assyria's rising power,

we read in Isaiah chapter 7,

Isaiah 7 · chapter mention

two chapters ahead,

that the northern kingdom of Israel

allies with a pagan nation,

Assyria.

This partnership then leads the southern kingdom of Judah

and her king Ahaz

to ally with Assyria.

So you see the northern kingdom,

Israel with Syria,

and the southern kingdom with Assyria.

And Ahaz promises gold

and loyalty to Assyria

to defend the southern kingdom.

Assyria.

So a vicious military force,

Assyria then goes and conquers Assyria,

conquers Syria entirely,

and inflicts major damage to Israel.

First to the lands that belong to Zebulun

and to Naphtali.

But if you know your Bibles,

you know that Assyria came to conquer

the entire northern kingdom in 722 BC.

Bloodshed, bondage, brutality,

flood the lands of Israel,

plunging them into deep darkness.

And it's this darkness

that our passage speaks about today.

Be aware that this is not the result

of military weakness or faulty strategy.

The problem is not that the northern kingdom

chose the wrong ally.

They chose Syria, not Assyria.

Throughout the Old Testament,

military victory or defeat

is consistently the result

of Israel's right or wrong standing

before the Lord.

Battles that on paper,

they have no battles,

no business fighting in,

they win.

But battles that on paper,

they should have won,

they lose.

So if that's the case,

things don't look good

for either Israel or Judah

because they both turn

to surrounding nations,

spurning the Lord,

rejecting his promises.

They ought to have remembered

all the battles

that the Lord had won

on their behalf.

They should have followed David

when he wrote in Psalm 20,

some trust in chariots

and some in horses,

but we trust in the name

of the Lord our God.

But instead,

they whore themselves out.

They entrust themselves

to idols,

to other nations.

Because of that sin,

Assyria or Isaiah assures

that it's not just Israel

on the chopping block,

but it's Judah too.

He promises that Assyria

will threaten Judah

and devastate her.

Then, even because of Assyria's sin,

she too will be judged.

You see this both

in Isaiah 10, 12,

when he writes,

when the Lord has finished

all his work on Mount Zion

and on Jerusalem,

he will punish the speech

of the arrogant heart

of the king of Assyria

and the boastful look

in his eyes.

Whether it's Syria,

Assyria,

Judah,

or Israel,

all of these nations

will be judged

by a holy,

righteous Lord

because of their sin

and their idolatry.

This is a bleak picture.

Not just for God's chosen people

in Israel,

but really for the whole

of humanity.

Every single one

of these nations,

Jew or Gentile,

will be besieged,

bound,

broken,

banished,

and bereaved

all because of their sin.

No one is righteous.

No, not one.

And that problem

hasn't stopped

with these four nations.

And the American freedom

that we enjoy,

we aren't under direct threat

of enemies

conquering our lands,

pillaging our homes.

But still gloom,

anguish,

darkness,

still plague the lands

today.

Why is that?

When our forefather Adam

committed the first sin

by eating the forbidden fruit,

we were banished

from the Garden of Eden.

And sin came into the world

and death through sin.

And so death spread

to all men

because all sinned.

So life east of Eden

is marked by this gloom,

this anguish,

this darkness.

Suffering,

sickness,

sadness mark

daily life.

And so much so

that we forget

that we actually do live

in this darkness.

That our eyes have grown

accustomed to the darkness.

us.

We forget to realize

that cancer doctors,

police,

divorce lawyers,

military generals,

therapists,

coroners,

social workers,

environmentalists,

security guards,

they only have jobs

because of the darkness

of the fall.

We live in a world

marked by danger.

A world where

women shouldn't walk

the streets at night alone.

Where churches need

to conduct background checks

for children's ministry volunteers.

Where parents should second guess

giving their young child

a smartphone

with unfettered internet access.

We live in a world

marked by scarcity.

A world where the poor

will always be among us.

Where 300 million people today

can be classified

as chronically hungry.

Where people are cut

from their jobs,

miss mortgage payments,

and have to fend

for themselves on the streets.

We live in a world

marked by tragedy,

by heartbreak.

A world where

children's size coffins

are a thing.

Where there are millions

of divorces

this past year

in the states alone.

And as we're sadly

reminded this week

where lives are cut short

by gun violence

and mass shootings.

And it's all too easy

to keep going.

2025,

even with all its innovations

and breakthroughs,

was a painful reminder

that this world

is still shrouded

in darkness.

2026,

without final

divine intervention,

it'll be more of the same.

The darkness

doesn't just affect us

from the outside,

externally,

but internally too.

It settles within us.

What does that look like?

I think one of the

clearest descriptions

is what pastor

and author David Powelson

has called

the anti-Psalm 23.

Many of us know,

love, cherish this psalm.

The Lord is my shepherd,

I shall not want.

Powelson offers

a striking contrast

from that psalm

that captures so well

what this darkness

looks like,

what it feels like.

As I read snippets

of it,

ask yourself honestly,

do you feel

that darkness?

In what ways

am I living out

this anti-Psalm 23?

I'm on my own.

No one looks out

for me

or protects me.

I experience

a continual sense

of need.

Nothing's quite right.

I'm always restless.

I'm easily frustrated

and often disappointed.

It's a jungle.

I feel overwhelmed.

It's a desert.

I'm thirsty.

My soul feels broken,

twisted, and stuck.

I can't fix myself.

I stumble down

some dark paths.

I'm haunted

by emptiness

and futility,

the shadows of death.

Death is waiting

for me

at the end

of every road.

But I'd rather

not think about that.

My cup

is never

quite full enough.

I'm left empty.

Disappointment

follows me

all the days

of my life.

Will I be alone

forever?

Homeless,

free-falling

into void?

It's a living death

and then I die.

Plunged

in thick darkness,

this world

is groaning

all together

for some light

to break.

Groaning

for some sense

of reprieve,

some hope,

some light.

It is to these people

living in this

thick darkness

that God addresses

in this passage.

And here

it's glorious

opening.

But

there will be

no gloom

for her

who was in anguish

to a helpless,

undeserving world.

God refuses

to sit back

idly.

No amount

of sin

keeps God

from manifesting

his light

to us.

The land of

Zebulun

and Naphtali,

which was located

near the Sea of Galilee,

beyond the Jordan,

was previously

held in contempt.

The land that

first felt

the lash

of Assyria,

but by God's grace,

a former time,

gloom.

In a latter time,

glory.

And it's not just

to the Jews,

but to the

Galilee of the nations,

or if you see

in your ESV footnote,

Galilee of the Gentiles.

For these regions

of Naphtali

and Zebulun,

given their location

right next

to the border,

next to these

pagan nations,

it's always been

something of

a mixing pot.

Canaanites,

Arameans,

Hittites,

Mesopotamians,

and the Hebrews,

all just part

of this mix.

And after Assyria

struck

an exiled

part of Israel,

that part even

became less pure,

even more mixed

ethnically,

culturally,

religiously,

but even still

to even

an impure race,

a mixed race,

God does not

hold back

his light,

foreshadowing

that the Lord

will no longer

reserve his light

just for his people,

Israel,

alone,

but that God

will bring the nations

from the north,

from the south,

from the east,

and from the west

all to light.

This is the exact hope

depicted in verse 2

when Isaiah says,

the people who walked

in darkness

have seen a great light.

Not just darkness,

darkness,

but Isaiah piles

on the language.

This is no

ordinary darkness.

Not just normal

darkness

when the sun sets,

but a deep

darkness

that covers

the lands

24-7.

People,

especially in

Boston and

Cambridge,

as you guys know,

can struggle

with seasonal

affective disorders,

even in a place

where the sun rises

every single morning.

How much more

to dwell

in darkness

day after day

with no warmth

of sun on our faces,

no light

to brighten up

our homes,

but just

deep,

depressing,

dreary darkness

all around.

That is our

spiritual condition

without the light

of God.

But yet still

to these darkened

people,

God promises

to shine

his face

upon them

with his

great light.

And notice

the confidence

of Isaiah too.

Many verbs

in our passage,

and in this verse

in particular,

are written

in the perfect tense.

They have seen.

You have

multiplied.

All these events

are manifestly

in the future,

but he speaks

of them

as if they have

already happened.

It's an example

of the prophetic

perfect,

a feature

of Hebrew prophecy

that Isaiah,

by the revelation

of God,

he knows

with absolute

certainty

that these things

will come to pass.

He knows

that darkness

and death

will not have

the day.

No,

it belongs

to God.

On top of that,

instead of

depopulation

and dwindling

away,

under the

threat of war,

the nation

multiplies,

as we read

in verse 3.

In this,

God is fulfilling

his promises

to the patriarchs,

to Abraham,

to Isaac,

to Jacob.

He promised them

hundreds and

hundreds of years

ago that he

would multiply

their offspring

to make them

a great

and abundant

nation.

And the Lord

is faithful

to his promises,

is he not?

Is this not

who our God

is and what

he regularly

does for us?

Because he

keeps his promises,

because of God's

faithfulness,

then joy,

it springs up.

In this one

verse alone,

this idea

of joy,

whether noun

or verb form,

it's repeated

four times.

Two of these

instances

hearken back

to the

happiest of times,

the happiest of times

for the Israelites

via the powerful

effect of nostalgia.

First,

the abundant

harvest was a

richly joyful

time.

As an agrarian

culture,

this time of

the harvest

determined how

the rest of

the year would

go.

If the harvest

was plentiful,

then what a

relief,

what provision.

And to

celebrate,

the Jews

kept the

Feast of Booths,

which was a

week-long

celebration

throughout the

lands.

Imagine if

all of the

state of

Massachusetts,

we collectively

celebrated God's

faithfulness to

us for an

entire week

straight.

We all took

a week of

work off,

and we

celebrated in

our streets,

in our

squares,

recounting God's

abundant

faithfulness to

us.

Or secondly,

they rejoice

like when they

divide the

spoil.

In 2 Kings

7, the

capital of

Israel,

Samaria,

is besieged.

Just when an

enemy surrounds

a city,

cuts it off

so that no

food, no

water, no

help can go

in or out.

And as a

result, the

Israelites, they

live in

absolute brutal

conditions.

They're so

hungry, they're

starving to

death that they

even resort to

cannibalism.

but by the

divine providence

of God, four

lepers, because

they have nothing

else to lose,

they go out of

the city to

the enemy, and

they find not

only that they

have left, but

that they have

abandoned all

their stuff.

Horses, tents,

food, gold,

clothing, all for

the taking.

Can you just

imagine the joy

that pulsated

throughout the

city that one

day?

This is the

kind of imagery

that Isaiah is

invoking.

And notice

too that, again,

many of these

verbs in this

passage, they're

in the passive

form, they're

really the divine

passive, which

are passive

verbs that make

the reader fill

in the blank of

who the actor

is, namely

God.

It says,

light shone

on them.

These will be

burned.

But verse

three makes

the doer of

these actions

explicit.

You, you

have done

this.

The Lord of

hosts, the

God of Israel,

you, you

have done

this.

So it is only

fitting that

Israel rejoices

not before the

stuff, not in

the food and

the riches of

the spoil, but

before the

Lord, from

whom every

good gift,

every perfect

gift comes.

And we do

the same when

our value

systems are

rightly ordered.

We rejoice not

before the

gifts, but

before the

giver, before

the Lord.

And God's not

done.

Isaiah addresses

how God breaks

the chains of

their bondage.

Rather than just

using one image,

in verse four,

he employs three

powerful symbols.

The yoke,

the rod, the

staff, each

hammering home

the inescapable

weight of their

oppression.

Remember, there

are no

internationally

agreed upon

rules of war

back then.

There's no

established Geneva

convention that

protected the

humanity of war

prisoners.

No, the

yoke, the

staff, the

rod, they

were instruments

of forced,

back-breaking

labor.

Instruments of

violent beatings

that forced

them to keep

going even

when they had

nothing left

to give.

Just how

liberating it

would be for

that yoke,

that staff,

that rod to

be shattered

by God.

And he will

do just as

he did in the

past, decisively

on the day

of Midian.

In this

flashback,

Isaiah

hearkens back

to Judges

seven.

There, Israel

is in a

sorry state,

completely

overpowered,

outnumbered by

Midian.

But before

their battle,

God cuts

down the

Israelite army

from 32,000

able-bodied men

to only 300,

less than

1% of its

original size.

Questionable

military strategy

all around,

but yet these

300 men

have victory

before the

Lord.

God promises

in verse 5,

the boot

that trampled

our lands

and our

women and

our children,

the garment

soaked with

the blood

of our men,

symbols of

our enemies'

vicious conquests,

they are used

then as fuel

for fire.

In a great

reversal,

what was once

used for fuel,

for war,

and for death,

and for conquering,

is now used

for fuel,

for fire,

for warmth,

for light,

for life.

So we've seen

the effect

of this great

prophecy,

but how does

this great

reversal come?

So we read

of this

deliverer.

The for

that starts

verse 6

introduces

the ground

clause,

the reason

for this

light,

the joy,

the peace,

and it

comes in

a most

unexpected

form.

It's a

child,

a boy.

Pastor Ray

Orlin once

said,

God's answer

to everything

that has

terrorized us

is a

child.

Again,

just as he

did with

Gideon,

God

delights

in using

what is

small,

what is

weak,

in the eyes

of this

world to

shame the

strong.

He uses

the foolish

to shame

the wise.

In a world

captivated by

grand displays

of power,

by massive

armies and

great wealth,

we're quick

to place our

hope in

human strength,

always scheming

to partner

up with

our

Assyrias,

with our

Assyrias.

Brothers and

sisters,

we ought not

dismiss the

little things,

like your

little church,

or your

little prayers,

your little

service,

your little

witness,

and most

importantly,

this little

child.

God

uses in

big ways.

God

deliberately

chooses this

weakest image,

a child,

to then

conquer

every single

one of our

enemies.

Sin,

death,

Satan.

You know,

it's easy to

think that

Christmas is a

time that is

tame,

domesticated,

safe,

brothers and

sisters,

Christmas is

the start of

the revolution,

the in-breaking

of the kingdom

of God.

And who is

this boy?

I hope it's

obvious to you

here,

but remember,

remember the

longing of the

Hebrews for

this Messiah.

There were at

least 700

years between

the prophecy

that you

read today

and the

birth of

this boy.

With 400

of those

years being

called the

400 silent

years,

God seemed

to stop

speaking to

them all

together.

400 years

of silence.

That was

just five

seconds of

silence.

What about

400 years?

So understand

the momentous

occasion then

when Matthew

breaks this

prolonged silence

when he writes

in his gospel

and the

leaving of

Nazareth,

Jesus went

and lived in

Capernaum by

the sea in the

territory of

Zebulun and

Naphtali,

should sound

familiar,

so that what

was spoken by

the prophet

Isaiah might be

fulfilled.

And then he

proceeds to

quote this

exact passage,

verses 1 to 2,

from this exact

passage.

Matthew is

saying,

make no

mistake,

Jesus of

Nazareth,

this boy,

he is the

child of

prophecy.

And we

learn what

his name

will be

called.

And these

are glorious,

glorious names.

Wonderful

counselor,

mighty God,

everlasting

father,

prince of

peace.

We'll take

each one of

those names

in turn.

First,

Jesus embodied

otherworldly

wisdom.

When I was

12, I was

learning about

decimals and

fractions and

reading Harry

Potter.

When Jesus

was 12, he

was confounding

even the most

learned Jewish

scholars.

Solomon

astounded the

ancient Near

East with his

wisdom and

knowledge.

Jesus declared

something greater

than Solomon

is here.

That word

wonderful is

thrown around in

our daily use so

often that it's

easy for this

title to feel

trite.

But this is more

than just saying

that Jesus was a

good listener and

just gave helpful

advice at times.

Jesus'

wonderful wisdom

inspired worship.

friendship.

Jesus wasn't just

the best of human

counselors, but his

wisdom existed on a

completely different

plane, on a

heavenly, higher

plane.

And it really is,

this really is a

divine title.

For later in Isaiah

28, it says,

the Lord of hosts,

he is wonderful in

counsel.

It's the Lord of hosts

that is called

wonderful in

counsel.

What does that say

about this boy?

But while he is

truly awe-inspiringly,

transcendently

wonderful, he is

also a near,

intimate counselor.

Someone who bends

his ear to you.

Cares for you

tenderly.

Brothers and

sisters, do you

need to make a big

life decision and

you just don't know

what to do?

Do you have a

problem in a

relationship where

you just don't know

what to do?

Friend, do you

know that you have

a wonderful

counselor in Jesus

Christ?

Let not the first

place you turn to be

social media or

AI or Reddit.

I'm sure many of

you have had this

experience this past

year, using AI,

being amazed by its

depths of wisdom.

Be not so easily

impressed.

Jesus has greater

wisdom.

So turn, ask the

Lord Jesus Christ,

sit at his feet and

learn from him.

Study his word, for

in it are the words

of life.

His words are lamps

onto our feet and

light for our paths.

Secondly, this child

will be called

mighty God.

Here is one of the

most explicit

declarations in the

Old Testament that

the Messiah will

somehow be human,

but also divine and

profound mystery.

Jewish commentators

have historically

struggled to make

sense of this

passage.

For to them,

there's absolutely

no way that this

little boy could be

called mighty God.

That would be an

act of blasphemy

deserving of death.

So they resort to

saying that this title

is only metaphorical.

It only refers to his

mission metaphorically,

that he's on a

godlike mission, or

metaphorically about his

character, he's a

godlike hero.

But just in a chapter

later, this same title,

mighty God, El

Gabor, is used

clearly to refer to

Yahweh.

If it clearly refers to

God there, just a

chapter later, we are

hard pressed to keep

the same meaning here.

And so what a

glorious mystery that we

celebrate this Christmas.

How could a brittle

babe be the

omnipotent God?

How could a cradle

contain the

omnipresent Lord?

How can a kid

growing in wisdom

and stature be the

omniscient God?

This is the profound

mystery of Christmas,

and this is the

scandal of Christmas.

Christmas.

Recently, I read a

news article that

follows the Los

Angeles Police

Department and their

work in stopping

prostitution on the

blade, which is a

roughly 50-block

stretch that has

become one of the

most notorious sex

trafficking corridors

in all the United

States.

This area is an

embodiment of the

darkness of the

world.

world.

The lives of these

girls are gut-wrenchingly

tragic.

Terrible upbringings

lead to terrible

decisions, lead to

terrible lives.

And once they get

there, it is so

hard to break them

free.

In fear of

punishment, these

girls again and

again flee from the

people that are

trying to help

them straight into

the arms of the

people that are

trying to exploit

them.

One way that the

police try to catch

these traffickers is

by going undercover

in sting operations.

So, dressed as

these women, female

police officers walk

the streets of the

blade.

Can you imagine the

condescension?

humiliation.

The humiliation.

Not only that, but

the danger.

One pimp attacked

and knocked an

officer to the

ground once she was

caught as police.

Because of that, she

was permanently

injured.

Her life never the

same.

These trained,

educated, honorable

women subject

themselves to the

humiliation to the

danger to save these

girls from their

oppressors.

And of course,

analogies fail when

you press them too

much, but this

captures just a

fraction of the

great condescension

of Jesus Christ.

He is God.

He is Lord of

Lords, creator of

all things, and yet

he took on flesh.

And like these

police officers, he

entered into a

broken, dark

world to save

us.

Not just the

humiliation, but he

knew the danger that

was ahead of him.

But this mighty

God, El Gabor, was

undeterred to come

as a babe to save

us from our

oppressors, to

release us from our

bondage to sin and

death.

Praise be to the

Lord Jesus.

Jesus.

Though unto us a

child is given, the

third title is

paradoxically everlasting

father.

He's a child called

a father.

Now some of you

might be wondering if

Isaiah is calling

God the son, God

the father here.

Is Isaiah guilty of

mixing up the

persons of the

trinity and committing

theological

heresy.

I think this is where

context really is

key.

Isaiah isn't teaching

heresy here because

we have to remember

that in the Old

Testament, the

prophets wrote in a

time not where they

had a developed

understanding of the

trinity.

It wasn't just part of

their daily thinking.

That Trinitarian

doctrine took time for

the church to define

and refine.

And so we need to be

careful not to read a

New Testament concern

into an Old Testament

passage.

What then does this

title mean?

Back then the title

father was a title of

political authority and

of power.

For example, kings would

call themselves fathers

of their nations.

Recall how Ahaz, the

king of Judah, he

covenanted with Assyria.

It was clear that Assyria

was the more dominant

power and so Ahaz submits

himself to him.

And he says that the

king of Assyria would be

his master and father

and that he would be to

him a servant and son.

Ahaz declared his fealty to

the wrong father when he

should have placed his

trust in this everlasting

father.

And so this title challenges

us to trust in no power but

the power of Jesus Christ

alone.

So the simple question is

who do you trust?

Do you know that as Psalm

23 says that he prepares a

table before you in the

presence of your enemies?

If a king invited you to be an

honored guest for dinner, you

were pampered with care and

attention and more importantly

you were under his protection.

Even if you were seated around

your greatest mortal enemies,

people who wanted your very

head, no one could lay a

finger on you.

That is the kind of honor and

protection that you child of

God receive.

So when you are afraid of all

the threats around you, there

is no need to rely on anything,

anyone else, no sources of

strength.

But declare like David in

Psalm 53, when I am afraid, I

put my trust in you.

In God whose word I praise, in

God I trust and am not afraid.

What can mere mortals do to

me?

In the midst of trial, do you

have this kind of simple faith in

the Lord?

And if you do, you will never

regret that trust.

For this Father's rule and

reign will be everlasting.

Of the increase of his

government and of peace, there

will be no end.

We know the adage, absolute

power corrupts absolutely.

We see that time and time again.

That kind of power is like a

mirror.

If a man can do whatever he

wants, whenever he wants, you

can't imagine what kind of

ugliness, selfishness, perversion

comes out of that man's heart.

You can't imagine what kind of

selfishness and evil would come out

of your heart.

But unlike you and me, when Jesus

forever sits on the throne of

David with all power and all

authority, he rules with justice,

with righteousness.

Unlike the tyrants of men, when he

rules, not evil but peace, shalom,

they overflow to his subjects.

Not just to the Jews only.

For Jesus came not to be the

conquering, revolutionary Messiah that

the Jews were waiting for.

No, it is too small a thing for this

kind of king to rule only one

nation.

For he came not to establish an

earthly kingdom, but a heavenly

kingdom like the world has never seen

before.

In which not just the blood

descendants of Abraham will come,

but the spiritual whole of God's

people from every tribe, nation,

and tongue, they will come to

worship the name of the Lord Jesus

Christ.

And they will live in peace forever.

That's exactly why Jesus' fourth and

final title is Prince of Peace.

All of his subjects can confidently,

permanently say, the Lord is my

shepherd.

I shall not want.

He makes me lie down in green

pastures.

He leads me beside still waters.

He restores my soul.

In his kingdom, none of the spirit of

distress, of fear, of loneliness,

embodied by that anti-Psalm 23,

is ever relatable.

All of that will be completely foreign,

alien.

Alien.

And that kind of peace is only

possible because of the peace that he

has made on behalf of sinners like you

and me.

This wonderful counselor, mighty God,

everlasting father, prince of peace,

not only did he humble himself by

permanently taking on flesh, walking

this dark world, but he went as far as

he could possibly go.

He gave up everything that he possibly

could by dying on behalf of sinners.

Isaiah would then go on to predict about

this suffering servant in chapter 53.

He was pierced for our transgressions.

Upon him was the chastisement that brought

us peace, and with his wounds we are

healed.

We were his enemies.

We deserved to be banished to live in

deep darkness.

I fall short of his glory every single day.

But by his death that he endured,

for all those who have put their faith in

him, he spoke, let light shine out of the

darkness.

He spoke those words at the beginning of

creation, and he spoke those words into our

hearts.

No longer are we in the dark, for he has

delivered us from the domain of darkness and

transferred us into the kingdom of our beloved

son, his beloved son, in whom we have redemption, the

forgiveness of our sins.

By his death, Jesus has freed us from the bondage of

sin and defeated our greatest enemy, Satan, and has stopped all of his

accusations.

And we stand justified before him, so we live eternally then with him

forever.

This is the greatest news that we celebrate this Christmas.

And no, this prophecy hasn't yet been fulfilled completely, fully yet.

There are things in this prophecy that Jesus hasn't yet fulfilled at the

first coming.

Advent derived from the Latin means coming or arrival.

The first advent of Jesus then makes us wait eagerly for the second advent.

So yes, today, we are not as we should be.

Yet we know by faith we are not as we will be.

One day when Jesus returns with the clouds,

with his holy angels, and that one day is coming soon.

The government will be upon his shoulders from that time forth and

forevermore.

The son of David will take his rightful place on the throne, and he will rule

with justice and righteousness, and we will be co-heirs with Christ.

How can we be so sure?

We know.

We know the character of our God.

We know that the zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this.

The Lord is not begrudging or indifferent to do this,

but he is intensely, fervently zealous to do this very work,

to glorify his name by delivering his people into an everlasting kingdom.

So brothers and sisters, the sun rose today.

The sun will rise again.

The sun came 2,000 years ago.

The sun will come again.

When he does, he will give light to those who sit in darkness

and the shadow of death to guide our feet into the way of peace.

And so we sing.

Oh, holy night.

The stars are brightly shining.

It is the night of our dear Savior's birth.

Long lay the world in sin and error pining

till he appeared and the soul felt its worth.

A thrill of hope.

The weary world rejoices.

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.

Let's pray.

Father, we thank you that you are a God

that doesn't abandon a darkened people,

a depressed people, a lost people.

But you have pursued us.

You have given up everything possible

so that we may come into the light.

Help us to live in the light.

Rejoice in the light.

Sing and dance in the light.

And know that our future

is eternal light with you.

In a place where there will be no need of a sun.

No need of a moon.

For your glory will illuminate all.

We look forward to that time.

Maranatha, Lord Jesus,

come soon.

In Jesus' name we pray.

Amen.