This is the second of a two-part series on “The Advent in Isaiah”. The first part is posted here. Footnotes have been omitted from the following text. A pdf document containing the full text, with footnotes, of both parts can be downloaded here.
The Advent in Isaiah: Part II
Anthony Sparrow’s observation that Isaiah is “the most evangelical of the Prophets” is amply demonstrated in the pageant of readings that belong to the liturgies of Advent and Christmas. It is not just that he points us to the coming of God’s holy Word and Son but that he shapes our understanding of the meaning of Christ’s Incarnation.
Central to that understanding is the role and place of Mary, the Virgin Mother. “In the sixth month,” Luke tells us, “the angel Gabriel was sent from God unto a city of Galilee named Nazareth, to a Virgin espoused to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David; and the Virgin’s name was Mary.” The story of the Annunciation is inseparable from the Advent and is read during the Advent Ember Days (BCP, p. 101).
Luke’s account of the Annunciation prefaces his narrative of Christ’s birth. It complements Matthew’s infancy narrative about how the “birth of Jesus Christ was on this wise,” noting that Mary was found with child of the Holy Ghost “before [she and Joseph] came together,” and concluding parenthetically that “all this was done, that it might be fulfilled which was spoken of the Lord by the prophet, saying, Behold, a Virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a Son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, God with us.” Matthew is quoting Isaiah 7. 14 from the Greek Septuagint directly, adding only the interpretation of the name, “Emmanuel”. Luke, too, is echoing Isaiah, changing only that his name shall be called Jesus. In the Christian understanding, Jesus is Emmanuel.
The King James’ translation of Matthew 1. 23, where Matthew quotes from Isaiah, varies a little from that of Isaiah 7.14 and in interesting and instructive ways. The King James translation of Isaiah 7.14 is “behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son”. In Matthew 1.23, it is “behold, a Virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a son.” In Luke’s account of the Annunciation, Gabriel announces to Mary that “behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a Son” which is closer to the translation of Isaiah but with the addition of “in thy womb” which is more faithful, in a literal way, to the Greek. The word “womb” is part of the Greek expression for being pregnant, which means, literally, “to have in the womb.” Luke has used the Greek verb “to conceive” in his account and this word, in particular, has carried over into the rich devotional traditions of song and motet in the Latin West, for instance, in the “Ecce virgo concipiet,” set to a great number of different musical settings. These variations bring out something of the special wonder of the Annunciation and the role of Isaiah’s prophecy in shaping that devotional and doctrinal understanding.
“To have in the womb”, “to be with child”, “to conceive.” These are all ways of capturing the marvel and wonder of the Christmas story of Christ’s birth but the word which carries the greatest weight of prophetic meaning is the word, “virgin”, capitalized in the King James translation of Matthew’s quotation from Isaiah but not capitalized in the translation of Isaiah itself. This one word is a critical feature of the doctrinal and devotional understanding of the Incarnation. And yet, it has been the occasion of considerable controversy and endless debate within the exegetical community. Why? Because the Hebrew word can equally be rendered as young maiden or young woman or girl. This has led some to discredit the idea of the Virgin Birth altogether.
There are two points to be observed here. First, the Greek translation of the Hebrew is actually older than the Hebrew texts which we have from the ninth century AD, the so-called Masoretic text, and while there is no reason to suspect that the Hebrew text used by the Greek translators was all that different in this case, the word, virgin, used by the Greek translators does not traduce the Hebrew “almah”, especially in the context of Isaiah. Secondly, it is not as if the whole understanding of the virgin birth stands simply upon a kind of Old Testament proof-texting; it belongs to a deeper reflection upon human redemption and upon the meaning of Jesus as the Divine Saviour. This challenges, too, it seems to me, the naturalistic assumptions of our world and day by opening us out to the power of God. That is part of the context of Isaiah’s prophecy to Ahaz who trusted in the power of the King of Assyria rather than the power of God.
It is, as Pope Benedict XVI says, in his thoughtful treatment of the infancy narratives, “a word in waiting;”[1] in short, a word which awaits its fuller meaning and purpose and which is found in the story of Christ’s coming and birth.
We are able to date this word from Isaiah with unusual precision to the year 733 BC and to the period of the Assyrian King, Tiglath-Pileser III, who was asserting his dominion over the Syro-Palestinian states. The Syrian King, Rezin, and Pekah, King of Israel, had wanted Ahaz, the King of Judah, to be part of a coalition against the Assyrian power but Ahaz, sensing the greater power of the Assyrian empire, had refused so they planned to wage war against him. He had countered this by the political cunning of entering into a protection treaty with the Assyrian king. From Isaiah’s standpoint this meant putting his trust in the power of a king rather than in the power of God and submitting to an unholy power and worshiping their gods. As Benedict observes “what was at stake here was ultimately not a political problem, but a question of faith.”[2]
In Isaiah’s prophecy, God tells Ahaz that he has nothing to worry about from the “two tails of these smoking firebrands,” (vs. 4), referring to Syria and Israel, but adding that “if ye will not believe, surely ye shall not be established”(vs. 9). The Lord speaks again to Ahaz telling him to ask him for a sign whether from the depths of hell, we might say, or from the heights of heaven so as to convince him about the power of God. This, too, it seems to me is remarkable. It speaks to the nature of God’s engagement with our humanity. Faith cannot be blind faith. God wants Ahaz to see and recognize the divine power and truth which is greater than our political machinations and worldly schemes. He seeks our response to truth, our active willing of the truth of God, we might say. Ahaz responds with what is really a kind of mock piety, saying ‘I will not put God to the test,’ in effect “indicat[ing] that he does not want to be disturbed in his Realpolitik.”[3] The contrast between Ahaz and Mary could not be greater; the one says ‘no’, the other, ‘yes’ to God.
But what, then, of this sign that God insists upon to the calculating and cynical Ahaz? How is it to be understood? Benedict refers to four interpretations of this passage only to conclude that they are all ambiguous and inconclusive: first, a type of the Messiah which at best could only be anticipated and is a later theme; second, God with us as signifying a son of Ahaz, which seems improbable in the context; third, one of the sons of the prophet Isaiah himself which also seems a stretch; and finally, the fourth theory, that the term Emmanuel has a collective significance as referring to the new Israel, the “almah”, the virgin, as symbolic of Zion. None of these approaches has any kind of historical resonance in the actual context. Thus the suggestion that it is “a word in waiting,” which is exactly how Matthew, and the “entire Christian tradition” with him, sees it. “Though Jesus is not actually named Emmanuel, nevertheless he is Emmanuel, as the entire history of the Gospels seeks to demonstrate. This man – they tell us – in his very person is God’s being-with-men. He is true man and at the same time God, God’s true Son.”[4] We should recall, once again, that Luke has echoed Isaiah almost verbatim in his account of the Annunciation, changing only that the name of the child shall be called Jesus.
“A word in waiting.” It is an intriguing concept. It belongs to Benedict’s overall approach to the mystery of the Incarnation as seen through the infancy narratives. He argues that we are dealing with something historical which then demands an account, a reason or an explanation. Thus, things from the past, ambiguous and obscure in their own context, suddenly take on a whole new meaning and understanding. That happens because of the encounter with something that is new, revolutionary, and transforming; in short, the reality of the Incarnate Word and Son of the Father who is Emmanuel. And so, Isaiah shapes our understanding of the deeper mystery of God’s engagement with our humanity. The sign for Ahaz has become a sign for the whole world. Put your trust in God not in man.
This provides the moment of transition to our last passage from Isaiah that shows, once again, the Advent in Isaiah; Isaiah 40.1-11. It is among the more popular and familiar passages in the post-Christian culture for no other reason, perhaps, than the power of Handel’s Messiah. It marks the beginning of Deutero-Isaiah, what is also sometimes called The Book of the Consolation of Israel. The opening chapter is magnificent and resounding in its phrases and patterns of glory. “Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God.” God speaks to us and he speaks to us about the only strength and comfort that there is, namely, his strength and comfort.
The passage is rich in its allusions to the Advent. It speaks of redemption, to be sure, but in terms of pardon and grace, of meaningful sacrifice and suffering; things which should give us pause to ponder. Pondering upon the Words of God is a Marian theme, to be sure. Being like Mary means pondering in our hearts, too, all the words which were said about her child. Advent awakens us to the power of God’s Word coming to us and Isaiah is the great messenger of that Word. Here he speaks of “a voice cry[ing] in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord” and immediately we are catapulted into the ministry and mission of John the Baptist. “Art thou he that should come or do we seek for another,” as we heard from Matthew (11.3) on The Third Sunday in Advent.
Jesus’ response to John’s question speaks of the fulfillment of the Messianic Kingdom in himself. “Go and show John again, those things which ye do hear and see, the blind receive their sight, and the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, and the poor have the Gospel preached to them”(Mt. 11. 4). What do we hear and see? The vision of our humanity redeemed and restored but only by virtue of the Word of God Incarnate; the Word of God with us is Jesus Christ.
This is what Isaiah 40.1-11 indicates to us and in so doing shapes our thinking about the radical nature of God’s engagement with our humanity and, indeed, with the whole of the created order for “every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill shall be made low” (vs. 4). God comes to us in the power of his almighty word; there is a complete and utter contrast between the passing and fading nature of this world. “The grass withereth, the flower fadeth” (vs. 7) and don’t we know it! So, too, with us, and yet, in complete and utter contrast to the character and the vagaries of the finite world, “the word of our God shall stand for ever” (vs. 8). That is the Word which comes to us in the humanity of Christ.
Isaiah signals one of the great but often overlooked themes of the Advent. It is a penitential season, to be sure, a time when we intentionally recall the many and varied forms of human darkness. But far more than that it is a time of rejoicing, of rejoicing not in ourselves and in all our silly or great accomplishments, but in God’s being with us whose Word abides for ever, and who leads us like a Shepherd for we are his sheep.
Isaiah 40 offers great consolation. It opens us out to the deep care of God for our humanity for this is the great wonder of the Advent, the wonder of the Advent in Isaiah. “He shall feed his flocks like a shepherd: he shall gather the lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and shall gently lead those that are with young” (vs. 11). The Advent in Isaiah opens us out to the theme of God’s providential care for his people, to the meaning of the one who comes for our good and blessing. We can look for no other but we can begin to understand that he has come to bring redemption and begin, even more, to see something of what that redemption looks like in ourselves and others. The Advent in Isaiah opens us out to the power and strength of the God whose “word shall stand for ever.” May we hear and see the Advent in Isaiah.
Fr. David Curry
The Advent in Isaiah II
Advent Programme
December 18th, 2012
Christ Church, Windsor