A less-certain Christmas
The book of Isaiah was written hundreds of years before the birth of Jesus, and covers an expanse of time that runs from perhaps 700 BCE until the 400s. That would include the decades before the Babylonian invasion of Jerusalem, the years that many Judeans spent in exile, and the early years of Persian reign, which saw some of those who were exiled return. Thus Isaiah has multiple authors and themes.
Our passage today begins what some scholars refer to as “Second Isaiah,” which came after the destruction of Jerusalem, as well as the exile. Those to whom this writing is addressed are being encouraged to return to Judea, this despite the fact that they have lived in a different place for many years, perhaps were even born into exile, and might not have had ties to their former land.
It’s not immediately apparent, but these verses are considered to be part of a “trial from the heavenly council, in which Israel and the nations are litigants.” (Seitz, 390) There’s a divine discussion taking place about the fate of God’s people, one that offers comfort and a way home. In his interpretation, biblical scholar Christopher Seitz writes that “God is about to do a new thing, and this involves God’s own personal return to Zion to be witnessed by the same cities of Judah that had been overrun.” (Seitz, 391)
The suffering of the people has been recognized, and God declares it is finished. God will be present in the land to which they’re being urged to return and, contrary to expectations, the desert path to reach Zion will be miraculously made passable thanks to the promise of safety and water along the way. (Berlin, 834) Robert Alter writes that “the power of this stark formulation is worth preserving literally. The poet, conjuring up the expanse of arid land, abounding in ravines and ridges and rough terrain, that stretches between Babylonia and Judah, imagines a miraculous smoothing out of the ground as a great highway is laid down for the return of the exiles.” (Alter, 3513–3514)
Doubt is expressed about the strength of the people, whose flesh is like grass. Does this apply to those in exile, or to those who conquered them? Regardless, their might pales in comparison to that of God, whose word outlives all of creation. That said, though God is mighty, the presence of God will be experienced as gentleness, with the people gathered in her arms. Thus the passage ends as it begins, with a message of comfort and reassurance that persists throughout many of Isaiah’s later chapters. That’s a message the people needed to hear, and hearing “these themes sounded again from the divine council is to know God’s word is good and that it can be trusted, even when mortals grow weary and forget.” (Seitz, 393)
I suspect that since these words were first shared, many of our spiritual ancestors have been reminded of them when experiencing God’s gentleness, encouragement, and protection in the face of uncertainty.
Uncertainty isn’t always a bad thing, though. Sometimes I think there’s a bit too much certainty surrounding us, especially around particular topics this time of year. Some take offense when wished “Happy Holidays” rather than “Merry Christmas.” Some are quick to reference a “war on Christmas” that has allegedly been taking place for years. Some have magnets on their cars that remind us to “Keep Christ in Christmas.”
Now, I’m not going to criticize the sentiment behind wanting to recognize that Christmas was originally created as a celebration of the birth of Christ, but the magnet seems to be giving a direct order to everyone, regardless of their background, beliefs, or tradition. It implies a certainty that perhaps isn’t compatible with sentiments such as peace and goodwill.
That said, I’ll admit to exercising some certainty around the topic of Christmas, and I hope you’ll indulge me for a few moments as I share what that has looked like over the years.
I was raised in the Christian church, and over time learned that Christmas was created as a holiday to celebrate the birth of Jesus. Many Christians recognize the weeks prior to Christmas as the season of Advent, a time of reflection and anticipation leading to Christmas Day. Christmas Day itself is the first of twelve days of celebration, and that celebration ends on Epiphany, which is a commemoration of three kings or “wise men” reaching Jesus and presenting him with gifts.
From a religious standpoint, that’s what Christmastime represents for me. Anticipation and celebration of God coming to be with us.
There are some accompanying church traditions I also value. Lighting Advent candles during the Sundays leading to Christmas. Hearing the gospel stories surrounding the birth of Jesus read. Attending a candlelight service on Christmas Eve. Setting up a manger scene in the house. These are all things to which I look forward as December approaches.
That’s not all that Christmas is, though. It has attracted a variety of other traditions over the years, including decorated trees, colored lights, elves on shelves, gift exchanges, office parties, and thousands of songs (many of them having nothing to do with Baby Jesus).
At times, in my certainty, I have become resentful of some of the items on that list. I’ve felt that they were overshadowing those aspects of Christmas I hold most dear. (You’ll notice I didn’t even mention the bearded guy and the complex web of lies he’s necessitated.)
I was mentioning some of these tendencies to my friend Randall last week, as well as the responsibility I feel to somehow steer the populace toward a more traditional recognition of Christmas, and he reminded me that the horse has pretty much left the barn when it comes to that. And that offered me a sense of relief.
Maybe during Christmastime I should concentrate on those aspects that are important to me, share in them with others who feel similarly, and at the same time be open to what makes the season special to others.
The Bible does not teach that Jesus-followers celebrate Christmas, but it does encourage the pursuit of peace and goodwill.
Returning to today’s scripture, some who are familiar with Mark’s gospel might have noticed that I failed to highlight a connection between Isaiah chapter 40 and Mark chapter 1. The author of Mark references Isaiah in writing that a path through the desert should be prepared for the LORD. And this isn’t the only passage from Isaiah that is quoted by gospel writers.
Many of those passages are used in George Frideric Handel’s Messiah, a musical oratorio often performed at Christmastime. Thus a few lines snipped here and there from across 66 chapters of Isaiah are constructed in a manner to suggest that they pertain directly (and perhaps only) to Jesus. There’s danger in such thinking. What then are the other 80+ pages of Isaiah about? What did the writings of Isaiah have to offer those in the centuries between when they were first shared and when Jesus was born? Are people of other faith traditions who also recognize Isaiah as divinely-inspired reading it incorrectly now?
Biblical scholar Patricia Tull calls out such interpretation, writing that “applications of Isaiah to the Christian story did not arise all at once with Jesus himself or even New Testament writers, but only over centuries, as Christian readers approached the book with the growing conviction that it spoke of Christ.” (Tull, 32) She goes on to say that the
“assumption that Christianity was the end to which the history of Israel was destined meant that for the most part passages from the Hebrew Scriptures were incorporated into the [schedule of Bible readings] in a particular way . . . that retained Isaiah as a Christian evangelist awaiting the Messiah. Thus the ways in which Isaiah tends most often to appear in Christian worship have little to do with the prophet himself and only somewhat to do with the New Testament.” (Tull, 34)
Certainty of what these passages mean has contributed to anti-Semitic beliefs and practices over the years, such as citing Isaiah in an effort to prove “the superiority of the Christian story and the supersession, that is, the replacement, of Jews in God’s favor by Christians.” (Tull, 32) Some have even used this as license to justify the harm of other people.
Thus, when Jesus-followers read passages like today’s, it’s crucial to approach them with less certainty and more humility. Tyler Mayfield suggests that “instead of holding to a messianic or christological reading of Isaiah as the only valid notion, Christians could admit openly and explicitly that these texts provide some of the necessary elements that will constitute notions of messiahship in first-century Judaism . . . However, these texts do not point immediately to Jesus; there is just not a straight line — historically or theologically — between Point A, Isaiah, and Point B, Jesus.” (Mayfield, 46)
This doesn’t mean pre-Jesus interpretations are the only valid ones, however. Patricia Tull writes that “ancient interpreters, both Jewish and Gentile, read Scripture in ways common to their time, and brought to the fore the conviction that Jesus represented a communication from God that was new and unexpected, yet consistent with tradition.” (Tull, 30) The gospel authors were not looking to replace the understanding of scripture in which they had been raised, but they saw in Jesus a manifestation of those teachings.
What if holiday hardliners like me abandon our certainty and embrace a broader Christmastime that exceeds the boundaries of religious tradition? That doesn’t mean we ourselves no longer center on those aspects we hold dear, but we also look for other traditions and practices that contribute to the peace and goodwill of the season. These might come from those who share our faith, and they might come from those who don’t, but the end result is the same.
In Isaiah, the people are offered comfort, and that is another theme befitting this season.
Melissa Bills writes that
“it seems, from reading Isaiah, that there is a clear distinction between being comfortable and receiving comfort. Being comfortable involves the pursuit of self-interest, even seemingly well-meaning self-interest. We speak of things like ‘creature comforts.’ We refer to a certain threshold of wealth as ‘making a comfortable living.’ These idioms represent values of familiarity and ease. They convey feelings of suspicion about newness and change. Receiving comfort, on the other hand, is what God promises to those who navigate the wilderness. The wilderness is inherently a place of discomfort. In scripture and literature, wilderness represents that which is unknown, feral, uncontrolled, and challenging. It evokes a sense of vulnerability and exposure. But wilderness also implies growth, journey, and the possibility for divine encounter.” (Bills, 25)
Abandoning our certainty might lead us to feel unmoored at times, but Christmas is not about maintaining the status quo. Bills goes on to write that
“the promises of God are not comfortable. Mountains will be brought low and valleys raised up. The powerful will be humbled and the vulnerable lifted. These reversals bring comfort to those who are despairing and in exile, even as they bring discomfort to those who are accustomed to privilege. Discomfort is holy, when it leads us to deeper love for God and neighbor. It is sacred when it spurs our hearts to love and good deeds. It is a blessing when it drives us to seek justice and liberation. It does not cut us off from God’s promises of comfort but rather makes space for us to receive them.” (Bills, 25)
Not everything offered at Christmastime contributes to peace and goodwill. Rampant consumerism, mandatory cheer, crowded stores and schedules, and other factors can leave us feeling like we’re stranded in a wilderness. Thankfully, we don’t have to navigate that wilderness alone. Others might have found a different way forward, and we can learn from them as we sojourn together. And if the path ever becomes too difficult, we know the Good Shepherd is there to carry us.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
Works Referenced
Alter, Robert. The Hebrew Bible: A Translation with Commentary. New York City: W.W. Norton & Company, Inc, 2019, Kindle edition.
Berlin, Adele and Marc Zvi Brettler, eds. The Jewish Study Bible: Second Edition. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014.
Bills, Melissa. “In the Lectionary: December 10.” The Christian Century 140, no. 12 (December 2023): 25.
Mayfield, Tyler D. Unto Us a Child Is Born Isaiah, Advent, and Our Jewish Neighbors. Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2020.
Seitz, Christopher R. “Isaiah 40–66.” In New Interpreter’s Bible, Volume IV. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2015.
Tull, Patricia K. Isaiah 1–39, Smyth & Helwys Bible Commentary. Macon, GA: Smyth & Helwys Publishing, 2010.
