Isaiah 9:1-7 · To Us a Child is Born
Living Out the Promise of This Child
Isaiah 9:2-7
Sermon
by Schuyler Rhodes
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It is impossible for me to listen to these words from Isaiah and not hear the baritone part of Handel's Messiah somewhere in the back of my mind. No matter how many times I read or meditate on this passage, the same music courses through my soul. I guess that's a good thing.

For many of us, certain events or words serve as triggers for memories or thoughts. There are some things that cause us to smile, some that cause us to wince, and some that stir the fertile substance of hope in our hearts. Isn't that true? Can we hear the strains of an old tune from days gone by and not set off down memory lane? Can we look at old photographs of family or friends without feeling something? Can we hear a recording of Martin Luther King, Jr.'s, "I Have a Dream" speech without a chill passing through us?

What is it, in your life, that stirs your spirit? What event, memory, or icon holds the power to move you? Can you think? Can you recall? For me, one of the most powerful moments I will ever experience is the birth of my children. I could go back and give you a blow-by-blow description of the day, but honestly, my words would prove to be poor messengers. They could not carry what was in my heart that day. I will, however, try to offer one word that might help.

Promise.

The birth of those children, my twins, was not only the fulfillment of many personal hopes and desires, it was, as I think all children are, a signal from God. In those tiny, brand new lives there was untold potential; limitless promise. And that pierced my heart. It is not a parade of dreams or hopes; not a whirling of empty wishing that I refer to here. This is promise. This is full, abundant, new reality, about to burst forth in manifold and unexpected ways. This is certainty in a holy manner that is beyond my ability to define or control.

I can't, and wouldn't try, to speak for anyone else, but I suspect that many new parents feel something akin to this. I have a visceral sense that this promise is present at the advent of new life everywhere. Does that feel right to you? Are you a parent? A brother or sister? An aunt or uncle? If you have come close to this birthing thing, you might just understand what I'm trying to say here.

Each child born, no matter where or to whom, is a promise of God.

This is why I think that God chose to come to us in such a way. This is why I believe that God didn't emerge into our lives in any one of a thousand different ways. I mean, think of it. God could have come down on a chariot with hosts of angel armies at his side. God could have marched into town as a wise and all-knowing seer. God could have literally been incarnated in any way we might imagine.

But instead, God shows up among us as a crying, kicking, spitting baby. "For a child has been born for us!" (Isaiah 9:6a). God comes, clothed not only in the vulnerability that he calls us to live, God comes and inhabits the promise of new life. On this day, in this time, in this moment, God powerfully reaffirms the sacred promise of new life as the Holy comes among us. Emmanuel. God with us. Emmanuel. God, wrinkled and cooing at Mary's breast.

We, if we dare to take the time, can see the promise in every new life. Few people can walk into a maternity ward and look at the babies without their hearts lurching just a bit. On some level, in some ways we understand that promise, and many of us work to see the promise fulfilled. Look around and see the teachers, the social workers, and counselors. Look around and see the mentors, the child advocates, and volunteers who give their time to see the promise fulfilled. Look around and see the selfless love of parents, grandparents, sisters, and brothers as families strive together to fulfill that promise.

And amazingly, in the midst of all this, God reaffirms the gift of life upon arrival at Christmastime. God arrives as living promise to offer still more to a people who have indeed "walked in the darkness" (Isaiah 9:2b). God comes in Jesus Christ today to shine the brilliant light of new life and peace upon the people. With this illumination, with this vision, we have received the promise of a people healed of their wounds; a people whose burdens are lifted; a people who have had the yoke of oppression shattered and removed.

This is promise, not brittle hyperbole. This is promise, not the cynical echoes of business as usual. This is sure. It is certain. We can, if we dare, trust this. We shall have peace! "For all the boots of the tramping warriors and all the garments rolled in blood shall be burned as fuel for the fire!" (Isaiah 9:5).

The child is born! The new promise is delivered, and in this world everything is turned upside down ... made new in God's love. From this moment on, authority rests on the shoulders of a child! (Isaiah 9:6). I don't know about you, but that's not been my experience of authority. From now on, power is not defined through coercion or force; through threats or manipulation. Now, in this beautiful child, real power emerges from the practice of self-giving love. And this power, this authority, will grow continually. The child, this baby God, shall be called "Wonderful Counselor! Everlasting Father! The Prince of Peace!" (Isaiah 9:6b). And under his rule, "there shall be no end of peace" (Isaiah 9:7).

Well, there you have it. A new world, a new way of being, all tied up with ribbons and laid out under the tree for you and me. There's just one thing left to do to make it all real. Can you guess what it is? Our children would know. They would know that if there's a gift under the tree, the only thing to be done is to unwrap it. That's right. You and I have the gift, the promise of new life born this day in Jesus Christ. It's here. He's come.

But this isn't any passive kind of gift. It's no consumer item that we can just sit back and watch like television, searching for the remote when we don't like what's on. No. This is an interactive promise. It is a gift that requires our participation. New life, especially new life in Christ, has to be lived! We can't put it on a shelf and admire it. We can't hold it at a distance for analysis and comment. "The Word," as Eugene Peterson puts it so beautifully in The Message, "has become flesh and moved into the neighborhood." God's promise of new life is here, now.

The call comes to us on this Christmas day to live into the promise of this child with all of our might. You know, unbelievers and seekers read these promises in scripture and they scoff at us because ... let's be honest. None of this, or at least very little of it, is real in the world. But friends, that's not because God has failed us. It's because we haven't lived out our end of the bargain. The promise of peace and equity that Isaiah so powerfully offers is born of a partnership between God and us. God's part of the deal is fulfilled. We have life and the promise of life ongoing. Now it's up to us to live the life — to keep the promise.

This Christmas, sisters and brothers, let's try to do things a little differently. After we go through the pile of stuff under the tree, let's unwrap one more gift together. What do you say? Let's you and I cut the ribbon and tear off the paper. Let's you and I open the box and pull out the precious, powerful, saving love of God in Jesus Christ. Let's try in this new year to live it out more fully, to be the fulfillment of the promise together.

Merry Christmas and Amen.

CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Sermons on the First Readings: Sermons for Sundays in Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany, Words for a Birthing Church, by Schuyler Rhodes