“Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel” (Isaiah 7:14).
There have been endless arguments between Christians and non-Christians through history as to whether the Hebrew word betulah in this verse – translated “virgin” in most English Bibles – should actually be translated “virgin” or just “young woman.” Non-believers have also argued that the son promised by Isaiah was simply the Jewish king Hezekiah. Conservative Christians feel there is ample evidence to show that the translation “virgin” is correct, and that the meaning of Immanuel – “God with us” – as well as the context of the promise could hardly be applied to Hezekiah.
But in this blog post we will go beyond those questions to focus on what the verse says and to look at its wider setting in the book of Isaiah. When we read Isaiah’s prophecy of the Immanuel to come, we may focus on the virgin birth of the child or the meaning of his name – but that is only half of the significance of this great verse. The incredible promise of “God with us” made in Isaiah 7:14 is coupled, if we think about it, with the equally astounding prediction of Immanuel’s humanity. God could have dwelt with humanity in the form of some kind of spirit being – to teach his ways – but the words “the virgin shall conceive and bear a son” show the humanity of the Immanuel as much as his name shows his divinity.
This duality of the fully human and fully divine Immanuel is stated again a few chapters later when Isaiah takes up the theme of the promised child once more:
“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace” (Isaiah 9:6).
The promised One’s humanity is seen in “for to us a child is born” with the emphasis on his human birth contrasted with “to us a son is given” signifying a non-human origin that is made clear in the titles that follow. Interestingly, the four titles are equally indicative of the human and divine with “Wonderful Counselor” and “Prince of Peace” being essentially human titles and “Mighty God” and “Everlasting Father” being obviously titles that could only apply to God.
So, beyond its prediction of the virgin birth, the Immanuel promise of Isaiah stresses both the humanity and divinity of the One who was to come – a fact stressed equally in New Testament scriptures such as the opening verses of the Gospel of John:
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God … And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth” (John 1:1, 14).
The statements that “the Word was God” and “the Word became flesh” are equally important in showing the Immanuel promise was fulfilled in the person of Jesus Christ. Luke’s Gospel confirms the duality in the same way:
“He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end” (Luke 1:32–33). Once again, the words “Son of the Most High” and “his father David” proclaim the unique and unmistakable roles of the Immanuel – the promised one who would be born divine and human, equally God and man, and who would eternally bring the two together.
Atheists have long pointed to the suffering in the world as “proof” that God cannot exist – claiming that if God were all powerful and all loving, he would not let suffering occur. But to find the very simple answer to this dilemma of why suffering exists, we need only take a step back from the question and ask why do humans exist?
The Scriptures make it clear that humanity exists because God wishes to share everything he has with his human children (Romans 8:32) – for all eternity (John 10:28). But as C.S. Lewis wisely pointed out, God will not give eternal life to anyone who will make themselves and others eternally unhappy. The only way this can be achieved is to have a physical world in which people are born but cannot live forever unless they choose to live in a way that would make them and others happy – and then those people are given eternal life by God (1 Corinthians 15:49–52).
Once we understand this great purpose of human life and see that a temporary physical existence is necessary before we can be trusted with an endless spiritual existence, it is not difficult to see that while we are physical beings, we have to be capable of experiencing pain. If we were not, we would unknowingly put our hands on burning hot objects, or injure and destroy ourselves in any of hundreds of other ways. We have to be able to experience pain – suffering – in order to live in a temporary physical world.
Some may ask, “Wouldn’t it be better if people were not born rather than being born into a life with the potential to experience pain or suffering?” But we should ask ourselves if a newborn baby that has to be slapped on the bottom by the delivering doctor – in order for the sudden pain to jolt it into breathing – would choose not to experience years and years of potentially happy and fulfilling life just to avoid that initial few seconds of hurting?
In exactly the same way, our experience of pain during the relatively brief years of our physical lifetime will be ultimately well worth enduring for the painless eternity we are offered in the life after this one. This is what the apostle Paul meant when he wrote, “I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us (Romans 8:18 ). Paul goes on to explain this in more detail:
“For we know that all creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. And we believers also groan, even though we have the Holy Spirit within us as a foretaste of future glory, for we long for our bodies to be released from sin and suffering. We, too, wait with eager hope for the day when God will give us our full rights as his adopted children, including the new bodies he has promised us” (Romans 8:22–24 NLT).
So suffering had to be for a short time if we are to live eternally without causing ourselves or others ongoing pain. But we must also realize that in this life we bring much suffering on ourselves – we all sin, and sin inevitably leads to suffering. Other suffering is accidental, or caused maliciously by others.
But God does not just allow us to suffer and ignore the fact that we do. He understands that suffering may try our faith. But he knows that if we trust him and endure, our faith is made stronger for being tested (James 1:2–4). He even uses our suffering to help us. God may allow pain to help us turn to him, to examine ourselves, and to become more like him. Also, we cannot really learn true empathy and kindness by simply deciding to have these qualities – they often come only by seeing how we need them ourselves when we suffer. Paul says this explicitly: “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God” (2 Corinthians 1:3–4). Even Jesus learned through what he suffered (Hebrews 5:8) and was able to become an understanding helper to us (Hebrews 4:15–16). When we experience suffering, we also learn more of the depth of the love of Christ who endured immeasurable suffering on our behalf.
And there is yet another, extremely important dimension to the suffering that the Christian may endure. From John the Baptist, who was beheaded (Matthew 14:1–12), to Jesus and the early apostles, the New Testament is full of examples of those who suffered righteously. But if we suffer as a result of our faith – through persecution of some kind – then, as Peter wrote, “you share the sufferings of Christ” (1 Peter 4:12). And as Paul reminds us, we will be rewarded for this: “we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory” (Romans 8:17).
Of course, even those who are spared persecution in this life encounter suffering in one form or another – we all do. And when we do, we can not only be confident that this is the only way God could make the world for our eventual benefit, but also that God will use the suffering we endure, if we ask him, to guide and grow us now, and to bless and reward us in that future time when he will end humanity’s temporary suffering, and he “will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain” (Revelation 21:4 NLT). Our present sufferings are, indeed, nothing compared with what God plans to give us as a result of them.
It has been said that history is written by the victors. Nations tell stories of wars and the great men who won them. But the Bible’s books of history are different. Joshua to Esther do tell of many great battles and heroes, but the record is more interested in theological truths than national glories.
Unlike with any nation before or after, Yahweh entered into a covenant with the biblical nation of Israel, and her conquests and kings reflect this relationship. Her history records as many defeats as victories, as the first two battles of Joshua show. We all remember the miraculous battle of Jericho, but this is immediately followed by the disastrous defeat at Ai for the sin of Achan (Joshua 6 and 7).
These two battles establish a pattern that persists throughout the Bible’s books of history. Judges tells the story over and over. When Israel is faithful to God, she wins wars. But when she is unfaithful to Him, she loses not only the battle but freedom itself.
However, woven within all these stories is a fundamental truth that Israel must not forget. Found first at the Red Sea, this truth will dominate her national history and identity:
Fear ye not, stand still, and see the salvation of the Lord . . . The Lord shall fight for you, and ye shall hold your peace. . . . The Lord is a man of war: the Lord is his name” (Exodus 14:13, 14; 15:3, KJV).
Though always implicit, Joshua cites this extraordinary claim explicitly in the third great battle in the conquest of Canaan. After taking Jericho and Ai, he gains a huge victory in the battle against the five kings (10:42). At the end of his life, Joshua frames the whole conquest of Canaan in this context:
“You have seen all that the Lord your God has done to all these nations because of you, for the Lord your God is He who has fought for you” (Joshua 23:3).
Israel does not boast in armies or arms. As Gideon illustrates, God prefers to save by a few, rather than many (Judges 7:2). Israel should live by the prophet’s maxim: “Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, saith the Lord of hosts” (Zechariah 4:6, KJV). As young David told Goliath: It’s not by spears or swords but by the name of the Lord (1 Samuel 17:45).
This truth bookends Israel’s books of history. Second Chronicles 20 records her victory over Ammon and Moab. Israel is told, echoing Exodus:
“Do not be afraid nor dismayed because of this great multitude, for the battle is not yours, but God’s. . . . You will not need to fight in this battle. . . . stand still and see the salvation of the Lord . . . for the Lord is with you” (2 Chronicles 20:15, 17).
King Jehoshaphat leads the people out to battle, and they simply sing praises to the Lord. He does the rest. “And the fear of God was on all the kingdoms . . . when they heard that the Lord had fought against the enemies of Israel” (v. 29).
Israel’s history tells who the true conquering King is: the Lord of Hosts. Her story is not a strategy, nor a justification, for nations and wars today, but it is good news for the church to know and trust that the Lord fights for us.
— Jason Overman
*Taken from the Bible Advocate, March-April 2024, copyright 2024. Used by permission.
In the iconic Verizon TV Commercial that aired in the US for nine years between 2002–2011, the actor playing the Verizon cellular phone service technician repeatedly asks “Can you hear me now?” It was an effective commercial that made its point through the continued repetition of its tagline.
The repetition of “Can you hear me now?” in this commercial always reminded me of Psalm 136 – a unique psalm of twenty-six verses, each of which ends with the same statement: “His love endures forever!” That’s a lot of repetition. The only other psalm that comes close to it is Psalm 118 which repeats the same expression four times; but with twenty-six repetitions, Psalm 136 is truly the “Can you hear God now?” psalm!
But psalm 136 is more than just the simple repetition of a phrase. Its repeated “tagline” ties into an important lesson that the psalm teaches. The psalm carefully catalogs the many different areas in which God’s love may be seen – some of which we may not often think about. The composition begins with a statement about God’s goodness (vs. 1) and continues through its first section with expressions of God’s powerful nature and creative deeds (vss. 2–9). These are things we may usually think of as being the reason for praise, but not aspects of God’s love. The Psalmist clearly saw the connections, however, and we can also if we think about them. For example, can we see that God’s refusal to misuse his great power is based entirely on his love? That is only a single instance of how God’s love continually determines every other aspect of his nature.
Even more obviously connected with his love, the psalm then continues through a second section which catalogs many of God’s saving actions in rescuing and helping his people, guiding them and giving them freedom and a land of their own (vss. 10–24). The psalm ends with the statement that God gives food to every creature (vs. 25), reminding us that God’s love is not only shown to his people, but to all of his creation.
Each of the themes covered in the psalm is broken down into specific areas – specific examples of things God has done which show his love. Many of the examples it gives are taken from the early history of Israel, and the psalm actually quotes Genesis, Exodus, and Deuteronomy a number of times. For example, in verse 15 the psalm uses an unusual expression saying that God “shook off” the Egyptians in the middle of the sea – the exact Hebrew expression used in Exodus 14:27 of the drowning of pharaoh’s army in the Red Sea. But if many of the examples in the psalm are firmly rooted in the history of ancient Israel, they could just as easily be examples of ways in which we today have been given freedom and every blessing both nationally and individually.
But why does Psalm 136 repeatedly make the connection between the things it catalogs and the love of God? The answer is that it is all too easy to see God’s love in the obvious and tangible gifts he gives us, but without a broader awareness and understanding we may not see God’s love – or we may even question it – in areas of our lives where God allows us to experience bad things rather than good. That is why we are told to give thanks for such things four times in the psalm and implicitly, throughout it. The psalm reminds us that every one of the Old Testament stories to which it alludes, or which it quotes, involved fears, frustrations, and problems for the Israelites before the final positive outcome. In seeing God’s love in end results, we must also come to see his love in the steps along the way to those outcomes. It is only when we begin to look more deeply at life and the word of God that we begin to see that the love of God is actually at work in a myriad of aspects of creation and events of history – and in every aspect of our lives. If we think about the ongoing repetition of “His love endures forever!” at each point throughout the “Can you hear God now?” psalm; like the Psalmist, we too can come to the point where we do hear God – everywhere.
News media at this time of year often have stories of extravagant gifts given by the ultra-rich to their families or friends. Although some of these gifts – the cars, jewelry, and other items – may seem incredibly expensive to most of us, they often are small compared to history’s greatest gifts. To mention only two examples, the famous Taj Mahal monument in India was a gift from a Mughal Emperor for his wife that in today’s value would be worth almost one billion dollars. In 1778 America signed a treaty of alliance with France and in return was given a gift of supplies and money to help in the Revolutionary War. In today’s value, the French gift was worth about $20 billion.
But even incredibly large gifts such as these are dwarfed by the gift the prophet Isaiah foretold:
“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).
Notice that this was not just to be a child who would be born, but one who would specifically be given by God. This, of course, refers to the messiah Jesus Christ who the apostle John tells us was born because “God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16).
We are all familiar with John’s words – a scripture that could well be called the “gift message” that comes with the greatest gift ever made – but we may not be as familiar with some of the other things the New Testament tells us about God’s gift. Consider what the following scriptures show us:
Magnitude of the gift
“To them that received Him as Savior, to them gave He the power to become the children of God” (John 1:12).
Undeserved nature of the gift
“For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 6:23); “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God” (Ephesians 2:8).
Certainty of the gift
“for God’s gifts and his call are irrevocable” (Romans 11:29); “Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows” (James 1:17).
Result of the gift
“Nor can the gift of God be compared with the result of one man’s sin … For if, by the trespass of the one man, death reigned through that one man, how much more will those who receive God’s abundant provision of grace and of the gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man, Jesus Christ!” (Romans 5:16–17).
These are certainly things we can ponder at this time of year and whenever we hear of extravagant gifts. No matter how massive some human gifts may be, God’s gift to us goes beyond the combination of all other gifts ever given. And while we may measure even the largest human gifts in monetary or other physical ways, we should remember the truth behind the apostle Paul’s words when he wrote: “Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift!” (2 Corinthians 9:15).
We are all so familiar with the twenty-third psalm, “The Lord is my shepherd …”, that we do not tend to see the rest of the story – that the shepherd motif is only half of what this beautiful psalm is telling us. David begins the psalm “The Lord is my shepherd” and continues in verses 1-4 by developing the metaphor through the analogy of God’s looking after and providing for the needs of his followers – as a shepherd would his flock.
Those who know animals, as David did, realize that sheep are almost entirely dependent on their shepherd not only to find water and pasture for them, but also to protect them. The clear theme of the first half of the psalm, then, is that God protects his people and provides their basic needs. But the second half of the psalm, beginning in verse 5, changes the metaphor to show how much further God goes beyond this basic care for those with whom he has a closer relationship:
5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
6 Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
God is no longer shown as the Good Shepherd in this second half of the psalm. Nothing that is said here applies to shepherds or shepherding. Rather, in this second half of Psalm 23 the metaphor used is that of God as the divine host of a great banquet, and we see the significance of this in every detail of the latter part of the psalm.
Here, “you prepare a table before me” is synonymous with preparing a “feast” – the blessings of the divine Host being symbolized by the good things of a banquet. Even “In the presence of mine enemies” is relative to a festive meal, as ancient kings would often celebrate their victories with banquets at which captured enemies would be placed on view. In the same way, “You anoint my head with oil” is not an allusion to the anointing of kings or religious leaders to office – which always uses a different word – but to the custom of anointing the head of those attending banquets (see, for example, Psalms 45:7; Amos 6:6; and Luke 7:46).
Although in verse 6 most older Bibles say something like “your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life”, many modern versions (such as the CSB, LSV, NET, etc. ) translate this more accurately as “your goodness and love will pursue me …”, and the small difference is important. God’s blessings do not so much follow – as though unable to quite catch up with us – but actively pursue us like a king actively sending servants to invite people to a great banquet (Luke 14:15-24).
The closing words of psalm 23 “I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever” have been used of the afterlife in countless memorial services, but their original meaning may have been somewhat different. The Hebrew Scriptures actually never use the term “house of the Lord” for God’s heavenly dwelling, only for the earthly temple. In fact, the term “forever” that closes this psalm is literally “for length of days” – and connotes an extended time. The verse signifies that David looked forward to “dwelling in” or “returning to” the house of the Lord many times – a statement found in other psalms such as Psalm 27:4.
Although the concept of the afterlife is clearly seen in other psalms, Psalm 23 focuses, in fact, on God’s care for his people expressed symbolically as the care of a shepherd and a host, and the two are different. While the shepherd cares for all his sheep and provides for their needs, the host metaphor narrows this group by implying the added blessings God bestows on those he invites to his banquet.
For example, in verse 5, “my cup overflows” not only conveys the richness of the banquet the divine Host provides, but is in strong contrast to the statement “I have what I need” (CSB and other newer translations) in the first part of the psalm. While the opening of Psalm 23 celebrates God’s care and provision for all his people, the second part of the psalm gives the rest of the story – the greater blessings and fellowship of those who walk more closely with God.
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