“For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given; and the government will be upon His shoulder. And His name will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace” (Isaiah 9:6)
It would be hard to exaggerate the importance of kingship in the ancient biblical world. Kings ruled their people with total power – the king was viewed as either a god himself (as in ancient Egypt) or as the representative of God or the gods (as in ancient Israel and many other Near Eastern cultures). As a result, the birth of an heir to the throne was a symbolically important occasion which was often celebrated in stories of mythic and legendary proportions.
The picture of human rulership painted by these royal birth stories is in stark contrast to Isaiah’s prophecy of the great king who would come. While the “birth oracles” of human kings promised that they would be mighty conquerors destroying their enemies, Isaiah pictures a divine King who would strive for peace. The contrasting nature of the human rulers and the promised King is also seen in their titles. It was common in the biblical world for rulers to take a throne name along with various titles that emphasized their greatness. In Egypt, for example, each pharaoh took five such descriptive titles as part of the coronation ceremony.
The coronation of the King promised by Isaiah is reflected in the statement that “the government will be upon His shoulder” and the four double titles Isaiah gives for the royal child who would be born are kingship titles similar to those used by human rulers, though the second and third stress the true divinity of Israel’s promised King:
Wonderful Counselor: Like the others that follow it, this is a title consisting of two words that convey a single idea. The expression could mean “A wonderful Counselor” or “One who gives wonderful counsel.” The second idea is found elsewhere in Isaiah (see Isaiah 28:29) and is probably what the prophet intended.
Mighty God: In the Hebrew, this title (el-gibbor) is literally “Mighty God” – an expression Isaiah also uses in Isaiah 10:21. While the title “Wonderful Counselor” connects wisdom to the Messiah, “Mighty God” connects strength to him – the two fundamental aspects of good kingship. In Isaiah 11:2 the prophet speaks of exactly these characteristics in “the Spirit of counsel and of might” with which the Messianic child would be born.
Everlasting Father: This title is literally “Father of Eternity,” but it does not mean the promised One would be the Creator of time, or describe the coming King as being eternal. Rather, it means One who continually – eternally – acts as a Father to his people.
Prince of Peace: This last title is particularly interesting as it is almost unique among the titles of ancient Near Eastern kings. Although Egyptian kings often said their reigns would bring about a “repeating of days” or a return to the perfection of original creation, their empty boasts meant little to the people they ruled. Isaiah’s promise of peace in the reign of the coming King is unequivocal, however, and is repeated in the verses following his title, in Isaiah 9:7.
Skeptics have sometimes claimed that the king promised by Isaiah was simply Hezekiah, the son of Ahab – in both of whose rules Isaiah prophesied. However, the titles to be given the promised King could hardly apply to Hezekiah (see also Isaiah 7:14), and he died at a time of great problems and impending national downfall (Isaiah 39:5–7) rather than the greatness foretold by Isaiah.
Nevertheless, many of the people of ancient Judah who heard Isaiah’s prophecy of a coming great King may have believed it applied to Hezekiah. Their country was threatened, and because the ancient Jews doubtless saw the similarities between the names and description of the promised King and those of the physical kings of their time, they looked for a leader in their own time who would be an immediate answer to their physical and political problems. It was doubtless incomprehensible to them that the promised King would not come for centuries after Isaiah spoke, and that when he did arrive he would be born into very humble surroundings rather than a palace, and – perhaps most of all – that he would be very different from the kind of kings with which they were accustomed. But God’s promise to his people held true, nonetheless – and although the promise would not be fulfilled for a number of centuries, it would be fulfilled forever.
* * * You may like the latest blog post on our Living With Faith website here.
The US Arizona burns in Pearl Harbor, December 7, 1941
This is the story of a hero, a villain, and a saint – who were all the same person. His name was Mitsuo Fuchida and although most Americans may not recognize his name, he was a true hero in his native country of Japan – because Fuchida was the Japanese pilot who led the attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941 that led to the deaths of some 2,400 Americans.
Of course, his leading role in the attack on Pearl Harbor also made Fuchida a villain of historic proportions in American eyes, so the same individual became both a super-hero and a super-villain in his lifetime – but his story does not end there. Due to a chain of remarkable events, Fuchida would excel in one more way before the end of his life.
T. Martin Bennett, the author of the recently published book Wounded Tiger, the story of Fuchida’s life, tells how two Americans who suffered greatly from Japanese atrocities during World War II changed the Japanese airman forever.
The first American was Jacob DeShazer, a US airman who participated in the famed Doolittle Raid on Tokyo in April 1942 and was captured by the Japanese. DeShazer was converted to Christianity after reading a Bible while enduring over three years of mistreatment and torture as a Japanese prisoner of war. As a result, the captive airman forgave and began treating the guards who tormented him with love. Remarkably, they responded by treating him with kindness. After the war, while living in Japan, DeShazer met and became friends with Mitsuo Fuchida who was deeply influenced by the American.
The other American who would influence Fuchida, although he never met her, was Peggy Covell who grew up in Japan in a family of Christian teachers. During the war, her parents were teachers at Christian schools in the Philippines and were killed there by Japanese soldiers in 1943. Covell responded not with hatred, but with forgiveness. Returning to the US, she volunteered at a hospital in Utah that treated Japanese prisoners of war. According to Bennett’s book, the prisoners called her an “angel,” because she was so kind to them. One of the men she treated, Kazuo Kanegasaki, was the engineer responsible for maintaining the aircraft of the Japanese war hero/villain Fuchida. When the war was over, engineer Kanegasaki met his former pilot and deeply moved Fuchida with his story of Peggy Covell’s kindness despite what she had suffered from the Japanese.
The influence of DeShazer’s and Covell’s forgiveness and kindness, along with several events in Fuchida’s life, led to the hero/villain’s conversion and deep acceptance of Christianity. While according to Bennett’s book, the warrior airman could have lived out his life in fame and prosperity in Japan, “Instead, he lived in poverty, telling the world what God had done for him – which was to save him from a life of hatred.” Fuchida also became an evangelist and traveled throughout Japan, the United States, and Europe preaching the word of Christ, forgiveness, and salvation – often in presentations titled “From Pearl Harbor To Calvary.” Fuchida also came to deeply love his old enemy, the United States, and made many American friends. Tellingly, his children became U.S. citizens.
And so, the man who had become both a super-hero and a super-villain for his exploits based in hatred, became through his conversion and service one of those who love God and their fellow beings – one of those the Bible (Romans 1:7 and throughout the epistles, in the ESV and other Bible versions) calls “saints.” Like the apostle Paul, Mitsuo Fuchida came to love those he had hated, and turned from trying to destroy them to serving them – from using his warrior zeal for evil, to using it for good.
As Christians, we know the Bible says we must have endurance (Hebrews 10:36; etc.), and that it is the one who endures to the end who will be saved (Matthew 10:22; 24:13; etc.). Many of us tend to think of endurance as something that is primarily in the future – we may wonder if we will still be enduring next week, next month, next year, or at the end of our lives. But the New Testament shows endurance is not really about the future, it is about now.
The apostle James wrote, “when troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete, needing nothing” (James 1:2–4*). Notice that James says the testing of our faith is what is happening now – our faith isn’t tested next month or next year – it is tested by what we are going through now. The trials we undergo now produce endurance that gets us through the now – making enduring till the end possible.
We see the same truth regarding the present nature of our endurance in what the apostle Peter wrote: “So be truly glad. There is wonderful joy ahead, even though you must endure many trials for a little while” (1 Peter 1:6).
That was the attitude that helped Jesus endure the agonies of his crucifixion: “Because of the joy awaiting him, he endured the cross, disregarding its shame. Now he is seated in the place of honor beside God’s throne” (Hebrews 12:2).
Jesus “endured” the cross, but we can learn from his example that to endure is more than just somehow continuing – it is continuing unbroken, just as we were before the suffering began. If the Son of God had not endured those awful hours unchanged, but had given up and stopped trusting and being obedient to God, or if he had been negatively changed by the suffering to an attitude of bitterness or anger against his tormentors, he would not have succeeded and would not have accomplished salvation for all of us. Once again, we see the focus on enduring is in the present – not being changed as we suffer, but enduring by keeping the future in mind.
Endurance is one day at a time, and when necessary one hour at a time, but it is always now, and it is always achieved through holding onto a future hope. The apostle Paul put all this in perspective when he wrote: “We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment” (Romans 5:3–7).
Of course, simply enduring suffering does not produce spiritual endurance, only suffering that is endured with faith in God’s wisdom and ultimate healing or help – the hope that Paul says “does not lead to disappointment.”
So, when we face trials and difficulties, it helps to realize that endurance is not something that stretches on indefinitely. We only have to endure now, in this moment of time. We need not be concerned about whether we will make it though the next week, month, or year. The only day God encourages us to endure is today, because he will help us to the future if we endure with his help in the now.
*Scripture quotations in this article are taken from the New Living Translation.
The Book of John tells two stories, back to back, of encounters between Jesus and individuals who came to him alone. Rather than being part of the crowds that thronged Jesus daily, these individuals talked with him privately. One sought him out in the dark of night and the other was approached by him under the blazing sun at noon. The two individuals were the priest Nicodemus and the Samaritan woman Jesus met at the well. The two stories, told in conjunction by John, clearly contrast in a number of ways, but also share something in common.
Nicodemus, a prominent Pharisee and ultra-righteous member of the Jewish Sanhedrin, came to Jesus, John tells us, “by night” (John 3:1-21) in order to question him about his teachings. Nicodemus was part of the religious establishment of the time, and he clearly went to Jesus under the cover of darkness so as not to be seen and recognized. John’s record of the conversation between Jesus and the Pharisee shows us that Nicodemus was beginning to believe the truth, but he held back because of the opinions of his friends and colleagues.
The Samaritan woman Jesus met at the well outside the city of Sychar in Samaria came to draw water around noon (John 4:4-42), which was the hottest time of day when the fewest people would be at the well. It is unlikely that anyone would purposely plan a trip to the well at that time unless they wanted to avoid people. But, as someone doubtless shunned or shamed by her neighbors because of her sexual relations with a number of men, the Samaritan woman had good reason to go to the well at a time when she would not meet others. She doubtless went then because of her discomfort with her neighbors’ opinion of her.
The two individuals were worlds apart. Nicodemus was a respected member of the privileged religious elite in the Judean capital of Jerusalem; the Samaritan woman was a shamed individual from a despised culture in a rustic backwater of the country. Spiritually, Nicodemus may have needed help to see his sin and the Samaritan woman may have needed help to see her worth, but both individuals shared something in common – they both evidently feared the opinions of others and sought to avoid those who might look down on them.
It is unlikely that John juxtaposed his accounts of these individuals in the way he did without intending his readers to see the connection of fear implied in both stories. Whatever our background, whatever our own perception of our standing before God, we may adjust our behavior in order to cope with our inherent human fear of the opinions of others. But after meeting with the one they came to see was probably the Messiah, both individuals found the courage to act without shame and without cover.
Nicodemus later spoke with courage to remind his colleagues in the Sanhedrin that a person should be heard before being judged (John 7:50–51), and then, after the crucifixion, he helped to prepare the body of the reviled and executed Jesus for burial (John 19:39–42). In the same way, after meeting Jesus, the Samaritan woman – if she had been avoiding her neighbors – now found the courage to tell them all about the one she had met who was the Christ.
We may not be like Nicodemus or like the Samaritan woman. Perhaps our lives are being lived out somewhere between those of the two individuals, the saint and the serial sinner. But like them, if we have met with Jesus in our lives, we will be strengthened to live above the opinions of others when it comes to living out the truth.
* * * See also the latest blog post on our Living With Faith website here.
We are all familiar with the apostle Paul’s words to Timothy: “All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the servant of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work” (2 Timothy 3:16–17). This short passage is a classic example of how taking Bible verses out of context can limit our understanding of the overall message of the word of God. It is a passage that most Christians have seen quoted dozens if not hundreds of times and as such it becomes a kind of biblical “definition” of what the Bible is for.
The Scriptures are, of course, good for all these things – teaching, rebuking, correcting, and training in righteousness – but we should not forget that they are not just about these things. In fact, none of them is the main point of the Bible (as Paul himself shows us).
When we view the Bible only in these terms, consciously or unconsciously, we tend to see the Bible as being relevant primarily to ourselves – what it can teach us about us and how we need to live, improve, and grow. It is always good to remember that we are not the subject of the Bible, but that God is. The Bible is not just the revelation from God, it is primarily the revelation about God.
In fact, if we look at Paul’s words in context, we see the real focus of the Scriptures is emphasized in the very verse directly before our “Bible definition” passage: “the Holy Scriptures, which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus” (2 Timothy 3:15). In other words, the main point of the Scriptures is that they lead us to see God and to come to faith in his Son. As Paul put it in Romans: “faith comes from hearing the message, and the message is heard through the word about Christ” (Romans 10:17). God has revealed himself through his word, the Bible, and his Word, his Son (John 1:1).
Looking back at our “definition” passage in 2 Timothy, we see that Paul follows those words by immediately speaking of “God and of Christ Jesus, who will judge the living and the dead” (2 Timothy 4:1). So the “teaching, rebuking, correcting, and training” aspects of the Scriptures that we tend to think of as being so central to what the Bible is about are actually subsumed within what the Bible is telling us about God and Jesus Christ.
The Bible is ultimately the word of God about God. It is about him, his nature, righteousness, faithfulness, mercy, and love. Secondarily, it is about God’s works of creation, provision, judgment, deliverance, and his promised kingdom. It is about his covenant, and his promises, and his way of life. As such, it is indeed good for teaching, rebuking, correcting, and training, but above all it is about God.
This is not simply an academic point – it has direct consequences for our study and understanding of the word of God. Our personal study should always ask the question “What does this verse show about God?” as well as – and often instead of – “How can I apply this verse?” When we study primarily to see what the Bible is telling us about ourselves and others, we can miss the even deeper, and in many ways more important, message about God.
Studying for personal application rather than just simply reading the biblical narrative as stories about distant people is important, but it should not replace a primary focus of studying the word of God to see God more clearly and then to seek his help to change to become more like him. If we study only for personal application, it can become a self-focusing pitfall; but if we study primarily to see God, our study of his word can be continually elevating.
Recent Comments