If you were stuck on a desert island for the rest of your life and could choose only one book of the Bible to read forever, which one would you choose? Perhaps you’d choose Psalms. It’s the longest, so you’d have the most reading material. Or maybe you’d choose one of the gospels, with all the stories of Jesus. This question was asked by an interviewer on a podcast I heard recently. The answer? Isaiah. That’s the book I would choose, as Isaiah has been my favourite book of the Bible for several years now, but the answer that the podcaster gave intrigued me: because there’s Christmas in Isaiah.
When we think of the Christmas story, our minds probably turn to Matthew, Luke, or another Gospel. Most are familiar with the story of the angel Gabriel appearing to the young virgin Mary, followed by the trek to Bethlehem and the harrowing birth in a stable. Don’t forget the manger, or the shepherds and wise men, the beautiful, neatly wrapped nativity story played out in figures displayed on mantlepieces and in front gardens. It really is the greatest story this world has ever heard. However, we don’t often look to the Old Testament to tell us this narrative. Christmas is the season of the New Testament, a time when we pretend the difficult chapters of Judges and the prophets don’t exist. You wouldn’t be alone if you struggled with some of the heavier chapters of the OT, but what’s exciting is that if you look closely, everything in the first testament points to the second. As Jesus proclaims in John 5:39, “the Scriptures point to me!”
So let’s take a close look at the book of Isaiah. Every time I read this book some new promise jumps out at me. I have to admit, however, I sometimes just read the second half. See, for those of you unfamiliar with Isaiah, chapters 1-39 are filled with the typical “woe to Israel, judgement upon God’s people”, type of prophecy which can seem really disheartening. From chapter 39 to the end, however, the tone changes to the beautiful theme of redemption. But the first part of Isaiah is important, the book as a whole giving us the most complete picture of Jesus in the whole Old Testament, as well as being a metaphor itself for Jesus’ birth, death and resurrection. The name Isaiah even means the salvation of the Lord. So if you want the big picture, you can’t just skip the difficult parts. In fact, it’s in the midst of all those difficult parts that the nativity story first shows up.
Let’s set the scene. Isaiah chapter 7. Israel is caught up in the panic of the threat of war. God’s chosen people have turned away from Him yet again. Ahaz was king, a man of incredible evil who turned to foreign alliances instead of relying on the Lord. It’s among this fear and darkness that Isaiah prophesies, “The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel” (verse 14). Chapter 9 has a similar theme. This chapter begins in hope—the promise of a great light shining “on those living in the land of deep darkness” (verse 2), and a child born, a son, called “Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace” (verse 6), who “will reign on David’s throne . . . with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever” (verse 7). Chapter 9 concludes with the wickedness and hypocrisy of the Israelites and the suffering they will endure as a result, so we see that even as God is condemning the actions of His people, He gives us hope, stark against this backdrop of darkness.
Isaiah has this beautiful promise of something out of nothing. Chapter 11 says, “A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse” (verse 1). What is a stump? The remains of a dead tree. But a shoot coming from a stump indicates life! Life, coming from death. Also sprinkled throughout this book are water metaphors: “Water will gush forth in the wilderness” (35:6), “I will make rivers flow on bar ren heights” (41:18), and “I will pour water on the thirsty land, and streams on the dry ground” (44:3). The people in Israel knew what it was like to live in the desert. They knew that water equalled life. Here, God is promising over and over again to make water flow in those dry places. Something from nothing, life from death. It’s not just water, either: “Junipers in the wasteland” (41:19), “Grass in a meadow” (44:4), and my personal favourite, “a crown of beauty instead of ashes” (61:3). All of these beautiful promises, written around 700 years before the birth of Jesus, who calls Himself the Living Water in the New Testament.
That’s what Christmas is all about. Water from the desert. Beauty from nothing. A child born into darkness, the hope of ages. Now, another Christmas is rolling around, 2000 years after these prophecies came true, and nearly 3000 years since Isaiah penned these words. It seems that the years go by so quickly for us, houses and stores decorated once more, some of you probably with kids already begging to know what presents they’re going to get. Here’s a thought: Sabbath comes around once a week, and while we rest and recuperate, we also are reminded that it is a day in which we remember God’s promises. And while the Christmas celebrated today sometimes seems very far from the concepts I’m talking about here, why not let this season be a sort of Sabbath: a time of rest and recuperation (buy all the presents beforehand so that it’s actually true), a time of joy, to spend with loved ones, a time to go Christmas light driving and sing Silent Night. And also a time to remember the story that Isaiah outlines for us. We still live in deep darkness, but the promise has come true, and we can look at this beautiful prophetic book with the understanding of what Christ has done for us and the hope of a future in which He returns. The hope that in darkness and condemnation, we have an everlasting promise of redemption.
Ashley Jankiewicz is an assistant editor at Adventist Record.
