The passage of Hebrew Scripture we hear this coming Sunday (Isa 50:4–9a) is a significant passage. It comes from the second section of this long book (Isa 40—55), which opens with the familiar song, “comfort, comfort all my people” (Isa 40:1). Widely considered to be written in a period later than the earlier section (Isa 1—39), this section of Isaiah is called Second Isaiah. (The third main section, chapters 56—66, is called Third Isaiah.)
The comfort sung about by the prophet speaks to the situation of the people: their forebears had been taken into exile by the Babylonians in 587 BCE, and now a new generation (perhaps four to five decades later) yearns to return to the land of Israel, given to the people in ancient times, as recounted in the foundational myth—story of the Exodus. Other parts of the Hebrew Bible reflect the anguish of the people during their time of Exile (Ps 137 is the most famous instance). Deutero-Isaiah, however, focuses consistently on the hope of return to the land of Israel.
Looking to the new power of Persia to permit this return, the prophet of this later period speaks with hope and joy, to the people living in exile, using vivid imagery and dramatic scenes of promise and confidence. A joyous, positive tone runs right through the oracles in this section of Isaiah. “I am about to do a new thing”, says the Lord; “I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert” (43:19). “I will pour water on the thirsty land and streams on the dry ground”, the Lord continues; “I will pour my spirit upon your descendants, and my blessing on your offspring” (44:3).
Deutero-Isaiah is fundamental for the theological developments that we find in the New Testament. Scattered through this section, we find four Songs of the Servant—three relatively brief (42:1–9; 49:1–7; 50:4–11); and the fourth, best-known within Christian circles, a longer description of the servant who “was despised and rejected by others; a man of suffering and acquainted with infirmity” (Isa 52:13–53:12).
The resonances that this longer song has with the passion narrative of Jesus are crystal clear. The song is explicitly linked with Jesus six times in the New Testament (Matt 8:14–17; Luke 22:35–38; John 12:37–41; Acts 8:26–35; Romans 10:11–21; 1 Pet 2:19–25); furthermore, so many of the details of the passion narrative are shaped in the light of this song, along with a number of psalms of the righteous sufferer. (See
The third of these songs, which we hear this coming Passion Sunday, portrays the speaker as a Teacher. The resonances of this song with the story of Jesus are also clear. The punishment experienced by the Teacher—his back is struck, his beard is pulled, he is insulted, people spit on his face (Isa 50:6)—is echoed in the punishments inflicted on Jesus by Roman soldiers and Jewish passers-by. He is struck with a reed by Roman soldiers and spat upon (Mark 15:19). He is insulted by passers-by and the Jewish authorities (Mark 15:29–32).
The lectionary offers us this passage for Passion Sunday, a time when we reflect at some length on the passion of Jesus, which we recall also each Good Friday. The lectionary also offers the full story of the fate of Jesus after he entered Jerusalem at Passover. This part of the Gospel story (chapters 14–15 in Mark) is known as the passion narrative, because it tells about what Jesus suffered in his final days. (“Passion” comes from the Latin word passio, meaning suffering.)
The author of the beginning of the good news, which we know as Mark’s Gospel, seems to have been the first person (as far as we know from the evidence) who drew together a number of expressions about the way of Jesus, and worked them into a single, cohesive whole, in a continuous narrative style.
This narrative recounts the death of Jesus by relating it to the figure of righteous person who suffers injustice, who appears in various Hebrew Scripture passages. The author of this Gospel takes great pains to show that Jesus remains faithful to his calling despite the pressures he faces, just as the righteous sufferer of old also held to their faith.
The Gethsemane scene (Mark 14:32–42) draws on imagery from Hebrew Scripture to underline this. The narrative evokes the suffering of the faithful righteous person, referring especially to some phrases found in the Psalms. The Golgotha scene (Mark 15:21–41) also contains this orientation. What takes place is interpreted with reference to scripture; here, the allusions are both subtle, and more direct. The cry which Jesus utters at the ninth hour, Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani (15:34), is a clear reference to Psalm 22, by quoting its first verse. See more at
The offering of Isa 50:4–9a thus “fits” with the way that the author of the Markan passion narrative presents to story of the final hours of Jesus. His intense feeling of the agony inflicted on him, and yet his steadfast grappling with the faith he holds, is to the fore. The story invites us into sombre meditation as we approach the annual return of Easter.
The passage proposed for this coming Sunday, the Fifth Sunday after Epiohany (Isa 40:21–31) is from a section of the book of Isaiah which is very well known. It reaches it climax with the well-known acclamation that “those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint” (Isa 40:31).
Words earlier in this oracle tell of the voice which cries out “in the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord” (Isa 40:3). We know these words as they are applied directly to John the baptiser early in the Gospels (Mark 1:2–4 and parallels; John 1:19–23). In that context, these words of the prophet invite us to look forward, in anticipation to the story of Jesus, which will follow.
These words, however, have a different reference in their original context. The words of the exilic prophet whose work forms the second section of Isaiah (chs. 40—55) are oriented towards the appearance of God to the people of Israel as they wait and hope for the end of their exile in Babylon. The prophet says that God will comfort the people (v.1), speaking tenderly to Jerusalem, declaring that “her penalty is paid” (v.2)—and then, that “the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together” (v.5).
The promise of God is clear; the prophet states that God declares, “I will send to Babylon and break down all the bars, and the shouting of the Chaldeans will be turned to lamentation” (43:14; 48:14; and see the extended oracle of 47:1–15). He specifically nominates Cyrus of Persia as the one chosen (or anointed) by God to bring the exiles home (Isa 44:28—45:1; 45:13). We know from 2 Chron 36:22–23, and the books of Ezra and Nehemiah, that this did indeed take place.
The prophet describes the way out of exile and back to the land once promised, ages before, to the ancestors of Israel, in terms which evoke the miraculous liberation from slavery in Egypt—at least in terms of the story that is told in Exodus. Whilst evidence to support the Exodus narrative as “historical” is strikingly missing, the story developed in the Exodus narrative is powerful.
So as the prophet describes the journey leaving Babylon and returning to Jerusalem he evokes that narrative escape from Egypt, indicating that the Lord God “will open rivers on the bare heights, and fountains in the midst of the valleys … [he] will make the wilderness a pool of water, and the dry land springs of water” (41:17–20; see also 43:16–17; 49:9–10; 50:2).
Because it was the Lord who “dried up the sea, the waters of the great deep [and] made the depths of the sea a way for the redeemed to cross over” (cf. Exod 14:19–22, 30–31), the prophet declares exultantly, “the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with singing” (Isa 51:10–11). In order to facilitate this return, in the opening oracle of this section, the prophet declares that “every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain” (40:4).
The particular part of this opening oracle that the lectionary offers for this Sunday (Isa 40:21–31) is a song of praise to God, for the power that “the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth” exercises in the world. In the foundational saga of Israel, “Everlasting God” is the name given to the Lord by Abraham at Beersheba (Gen 21:33).
In contrast to the eternally-enduring deity, whose word will “stand forever” (40:8), the prophet observes that humans are like grass; “the grass withers, the flower fades”, he twice states (40:7, 8). In this, the prophet echoes other passages where the same observation is made. One psalmist laments that “my days are like an evening shadow; I wither away like grass” (Ps 102:11), in contrast to the Lord, who is “enthroned forever; your name endures to all generations” (Ps 102:12).
Job, similarly, bemoans the reality that “a mortal, born of woman, few of days and full of trouble, comes up like a flower and withers, flees like a shadow and does not last” (Job 14:1–2). This fleeting character is linked with evildoers in another psalm; they “will soon fade like the grass, and wither like the green herb” (Ps 37:2).
Yet another psalm includes a prayer that the wicked will “vanish like water that runs away; like grass let them be trodden down and wither; let them be like the snail that dissolves into slime; like the untimely birth that never sees the sun” (Ps 58:7–8). The prophet Jeremiah links the withering of grass to the wickedness of those in the land (Jer 12:1–4), while the prophet Isaiah had noted that the withering of the whole world was a curse that signalled the impending judgement on the world (Isa 24; see v.4).
In the context of this understanding of God, the eternal one, and human beings, whose lives are fleeting, the prophet has announced good tidings (40:9), that the Lord God “comes with might, and his arm rules for him; his reward is with him, and his recompense before him” (40:10). God will not leave people bereft. God comes to “feed his flock like a shepherd … gather the lambs in his arms, and carry them in his bosom, and gently lead the mother sheep” (40:11). The eternal God is a caring, compassionate being.
Alongside this comforting image of the deity, the prophet shares a vision of the God who “sits above the circle of the earth … stretches out the heavens like a curtain, and spreads them like a tent to live in” (40:22). God is described as residing “above” in narrative texts (Josh 2:11; 1 Ki 8:23; 2 Ki 19:15) and prophets (Isa 37:16; Ezek 10:19; 11:22). Job recognises “God above” (Job 3:4; 31:2, 28); psalmists praise “God above the heavens” (Ps 57:5, 11; 108:5).
God above is not remote; God above descends to intervene—as the prophet says, the Lord God “brings princes to naught, and makes the rulers of the earth as nothing” (Isa 40:23). This resonates with the words that Hannah sings, that the Lord “kills and brings to life; he brings down to Sheol and raises up … [he] makes poor and makes rich; he brings low, he also exalts; he raises up the poor from the dust; he lifts the needy from the ash heap, to make them sit with princes and inherit a seat of honour” (1 Sam 2:6–8).
This also correlates with words of the psalmist, singing that when the hungry “are diminished and brought low through oppression, trouble, and sorrow, he pours contempt on princes and makes them wander in trackless wastes; but he raises up the needy out of distress, and makes their families like flocks” (Ps 107:39–41), and that “the Lord upholds all who are falling, and raises up all who are bowed down” (Ps 145:14). Similar thoughts, of course, are also,expressed in the pregnant Mary’s song of praise (Luke 1:51–53).
Extolling this God as above all and eternal means that the existence of other entities with a claim to divinity need to be explained. “To whom then will you compare me, or who is my equal?”, the prophet enquires (40:25). Only the Lord God is creator (40:26, 28). Surely, in the mind of the prophet, this places this God in a distinct and unique place.
So it is within these oracles of promise and hope that the theological understanding of monotheism is clearly articulated for the first time in the history of Israel. “Is there any god besides me? There is no other rock; I know not one” (44:8). The phrase, “there is no other (god)”, recurs a number of times in this section (42:8; 45:5, 14, 21, 22; 46:9). This echoes the refrain in Deuteronomy, that “the Lord is God; there is no other besides him” (Deut 4:35, 39; 5:7; 6:14; 7:4; 8:19; 11:16, 28; 13:6–7, 13; 17:3; 18:20; 28:14, 36, 64; 29:26; 30:17–20). Deuteronomy in the form that we know it is to be dated to the exile or return—the same time as the unnamed prophet in Second Isaiah is active.
This claim that the Lord God is the only god is in contrast to the way that the God of Israel had previously been portrayed, as “among the gods” (Exod 15:11; Judg 2:12; Ps 86:8), with the commandment to have “no other gods before me” (Exod 20:3; Deut 5:7) distinguishing this God from those other gods whom Israel was clearly forbidden to worship (Deut 6:14; 7:4; 8:19; 11:16; 13:1–18; 17:2–5; 18:20).
Before the Exile, the possibility of other gods had been entertained. After the experience of exile, the singularity of the Lord God becomes a central claim. And this, in turn, leads into the monotheistic strand that shapes the movement that Jesus initiated.
The prophet concludes this particular oracle with words of inspiration (40:28–31). Two rhetorical questions set the scene: “Have you not known? Have you not heard?” (40:28a). A foundational theological affirmation in the prophet’s worldview follows: “The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth” (40:28b).
Elsewhere in Hebrew Scripture, we find statements that God “looks to the ends of the earth and sees everything under the heavens” (Job 28:24), that God’s name “reaches to the ends of the earth” (Ps 48:10), that God is “the hope of all the ends of the earth and of the farthest seas” (Ps 65:5), and that “all the ends of the earth have seen the victory of our God” (Ps 98:3).
Prophets also affirm that “from the ends of the earth we hear songs of praise, of glory to the Righteous One” (Isa 24:16), that “all the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God” (Isa 52:10), and that to the Lord “shall the nations come from the ends of the earth and say: Can mortals make for themselves gods? Such are no gods!” (Jer 16:19).
And so the rhetoric of the prophet rises up into a grand poetic affirmation about this world-encompassing God, who “does not faint or grow weary” (40:28c), as the prophet repeats the earlier affirmation (40:23) that God “gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless” (40:29). This picks up the earlier affirmation that God “brings princes to naught and makes the rulers of the earth as nothing” (40:23), folded into the declaration that this same God “gives power to the faint and strengthens the powerless” (40:29).
Springboarding off the imagery of fainting/strengthening, the prophet then contrasts “youths [who] will faint and be weary and young [who] will fall exhausted” (40:30) with “those who wait for the Lord [who] shall renew their strength” (40:31a). This imagery, which closes the oracle, is used to portray this renewal of strength—that of an eagle rising up into the sky. It has caught the imagination of people of faith over many centuries. The rising eagle depicts the way that believers “shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint” (40:31b).
The eagle is known in Christian symbolism as the symbol of the evangelist John, because of the “high Christology” his Gospel contains, reflecting the divinity of Jesus in traditional interpretation. The four symbols (man, lion, ox, and eagle) are in turn derived from the striking vision that opens the book of Ezekiel, who saw “fire flashing forth continually, and in the middle of the fire, something like gleaming amber; in the middle of it was something like four living creatures … the four had the face of a human being, the face of a lion on the right side, the face of an ox on the left side, and the face of an eagle” (Ezek 1:4–10).
“The way of an eagle in the sky” is included amongst the “three things too wonderful for me” that the sage ponders (Prov 30:18–19), while the prophet Obadiah warns Moab, “though you soar aloft like the eagle, though your nest is set among the stars, from there I will bring you down, says the Lord” (Obad 1:4).
The power of the eagle, soaring high into the sky and spreading wide its wings, features in oracles by Jeremiah (Jer 48:40; 49:22) and Ezekiel (Ezek 17:3), and is used to describe how the Lord God guided “his people Jacob”: “as an eagle stirs up its nest and hovers over its young; as it spreads its wings, takes them up, and bears them aloft on its pinions, the Lord alone guided him” (Deut 32:11–12). It’s a powerful and inspiring image to conclude this opening oracle of the prophet as he looks for the exile of his people to end.
“I will raise up for them a prophet like you from among their own people; I will put my words in the mouth of the prophet, who shall speak to them everything that I command” (Deut 18:18). These words are the heart of the Hebrew Scripture passage which the Revised Common Lectionary proposes for this coming Sunday, the Fourth Sunday after Epiphany.
Here, Moses informs the people that, just as he spoke words placed into his mouth by God, so there will be later individuals who also will speak words given to them by God. And so, Israel is assured of the presence of a prophet in their midst throughout the centuries.
Indeed, a number of the prophets of Israel remind us that they speak forth “the voice of the Lord” (Isa 66:6; Jer 42:5–6; Dan 9:9–10; Mic 6:9; Hag 1:12; Zech 6:15). Jesus stands in this tradition, offering words of guidance, challenge, and judgement. In traditional Christian understanding, he is the way by which, “in these last days, God … has spoken to us” (Heb 1:1–2).
What will the prophet speak? In so many reports of prophetic activity, it is justice which is the heart of their message—God’s justice; the justice which God desires for the people of God; the justice which God speaks through the voice of the prophets; the justice that God calls for in Israel; the justice that provides the measure against which Israel will be judged, and saved, or condemned.
Moses himself was charged with ensuring that justice was in place in Israelite society. One story told of the time after the Israelites had escaped from Egypt places Moses as a judge. Whilst in the wilderness of Sin, being visited by his father-in-law Jethro, we learn that “Moses sat as judge for the people, while the people stood around him from morning until evening” (Exod 18:13).
Noticing that Moses was overwhelmed by the volume of matters requiring adjudgment, Jethro suggested—and Moses adopted—a system whereby appointed men who “judged the people at all times; hard cases they brought to Moses, but any minor case they decided themselves” (Exod 18:14–16). The charge given to these men is clear: they are to give a fair hearing to every member of the community, and they “must not be partial in judging: hear out the small and the great alike; [do] not be intimidated by anyone, for the judgment is God’s” (Deut 1:16–17).
Prophets coming after Moses thus inherited this responsibility to ensure that justice was upheld within society. Amos calls for “justice and righteousness” (Amos 5:22). Micah asks the question, “what does the Lord require of you but to do justice?” (Mic 6:8), while through the prophet Hosea, the Lord God promises to Israel, “I will take you for my wife in righteousness and in justice, in steadfast love, and in mercy” (Hos 2:19).
Isaiah ends his famous love-song of of the vineyard by declaring that God “expected justice” (Isa 5:7); Jeremiah notes the need to “not oppress the sojourner, the fatherless, or the widow” (Jer 7:5–7). Second Isaiah foresees that the coming Servant “will bring forth justice to the nations” (Isa 42:1) while Third Isaiah begins his words with a direct declaration, “maintain justice, and do what is right” (Isa 56:1), for “I the Lord love justice” (Isa 62:8).
This commitment resonates with the psalmist, who praises “the God of Jacob … who executes justice for the oppressed; who gives food to the hungry … [who] sets the prisoners free, [who] opens the eyes of the blind, [who] lifts up those who are bowed down [and] loves the righteous, [who] watches over the strangers [and] upholds the orphan and the widow” (Ps 146:5, 7–9). See
It may be significant that, in this year when Mark’s Gospel is featured in the lectionary, the Hebrew Scripture passages offered during the short season of Epiphany are drawn from the books of the prophets: 1 Samuel, Jonah, this passage from Deuteronomy, Isaiah, and then the story of Elijah and Elisha in 2 Kings. These passages help us to see in clear focus the way that Jesus operates like a prophet in Mark’s narrative. See
So the offering of the Deuteronomy passage this week particularly pushes us to consider how Jesus might be seen as a prophet, one whom God raised up to be like Moses (Deut 18:15-18). There are three key features of Mark’s portrayal of Jesus which depict him in a prophetic vein: words and deeds, a kingdom focus, and the importance of repentance.
I Words and deeds
Words, of course, are important, both for the prophets, and for Jesus. “Thus says the Lord”, a commonplace of prophetic rhetoric, is reflected in the comments of the Markan narrator that Jesus “went about all the villages teaching” (Mark 6:6), proclaiming his message (1:14–15, 38) and speaking of the kingdom of God in parables (4:11, 26–32; 12:1–12), in sayings (9:1, 47; 10:14–15, 23–25; 12:34), and in an extended apocalyptic discourse (13:3-37). Words were central to his public and private activity.
Jesus is remembered, however, as “a prophet mighty in deed and word” (Luke 24:19), so the deeds he performed are equally as important as the words he spoke. Indeed, this was always the case for prophets; God gave Moses words to speak and signs to perform (Exod 4:28–30), and the prophets that followed him accompany their message with acts that manifest the truth of what is proclaimed: Ahijah tearing his garment into twelve pieces (1 Ki 11), Isaiah walking naked for three years (Isa 20), Jeremiah buying and then breaking an earthenware jug (Jer 19), Ezekiel eating a scroll (Ezek 3), Ezekiel shaving his head and slashing the hair with a sword (Ezek 5), and many more.
In like manner, Jesus sent out his followers to proclaim his message, but also to “cast out many demons and anoint with oil many who were sick and cure them” (Mark 6:12–13). Word and deed belong together. So Mark reports, alongside the parables and sayings of Jesus, numerous instances when Jesus healed people (2:1–12; 3:1–6; 3:22; 5:21–43; 6:5, 53–56; 7:31–37: 8:22–26; 10:46–52), cast out demons and unclean spirits (1:21–28, 32–34, 39; 3:11; 5:1–20; 7:24–30; 9:14–29), as well as miraculously fed multitudes (6:30–44; 8:1–10), cleansed a leper (1:40–45), stilled a storm (4:35–41), and walked on water (6:45–52).
II The coming kingdom
Another way in which Jesus reflects his prophetic calling was through the kingdom focus in his teaching. That the imminence of the kingdom is a key note for Jesus is reflected both in his opening words in Mark (“the time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near”, 1:15a) and in some of his final words to his closest followers (“I will never again drink of the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God”, 14:25).
Jesus has so shaped the expectations of his followers that they anticipate this coming with intensity. “There are some standing here who will not taste death until they see that the kingdom of God has come with power”, he told them (9:1); to one enquirer, he affirmed, “you are not far from the kingdom of God” (12:34), and after his death, another follower who was “waiting expectantly for the kingdom of God ensured that the body of Jesus was cared for (15:43).
When some of his disciples hindered children wanting to come to him, Jesus chided them, saying, “whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it” (10:15); a little later, to his disciples, he warned, “how hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!” (10:23).
The final extended discourse of Jesus that Mark reports (13:4–37) provides reassurance of the sovereignty of God in the midst of crises and calamities. These events are but “the beginning of the birth pangs” (13:8). Jesus affirms that those enduring will be saved by divine action (13:13, 20), culminating in the appearance of “‘the Son of Man coming in clouds’ with great power and glory” (13:26) and the gathering of the elect by the angels of God (13:27).
The kingdom is the realm in which God will act decisively. In the words of the prophets, the kingdom of David and his successors was the realm in which God was seen to be active; after that kingdom was conquered and its people taken captive, the prophetic voices of Israel began to develop a notion that, at some time in the future, there would indeed be a kingdom which would be the realm in which God would be active. The prophetic hope in The Day when God would act came to full, dramatic expression in the apocalyptic portrayals of The End that was anticipated.
Proclaiming that repentance, metanoia, is the essential prerequisite for entry into that kingdom in order to fulfil God’s justice is a third feature of Mark’s portrayal of Jesus in the manner of a prophet. The first word of Jesus in Mark’s early account is clear: “the time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent (metanoeite) and believe (pisteuete) in the good news” (1:15).
In this programmatic Markan announcement, the two statements (in the indicative mood) about “the time” and “the kingdom” are followed by two commands (in the imperative mood) to “repent” and “believe”. The imminence of the kingdom is the motivation for the call to repent and believe.
This call to repent is evident in the activity of the followers of Jesus who are sent out in pairs with “authority over the unclean spirits”; as they cast out demons and cured the sick, so they also “they proclaimed that all should repent” (6:7–13). Beyond that, the explicit call to repent is not repeated by Jesus, but its presence is evident throughout the narrative.
Jesus calls people to follow him; fishermen Peter and Andrew “left their nets and followed him” (1:18), fishermen James and John “left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him” (1:20), and tax collector Levi son of Alphaeus, “got up and followed him” (2:14). Leaving behind signals the complete transformation undertaken by following Jesus.
Following Jesus is akin to taking up the cross, a sign of social rejection and alienation as well as personal denial (8:34). Jesus delivers a sequence of three sayings that reflect the complete turnaround that is required to effect metanoia. First, “those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it” (8:35). Next, “whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all” (9:35).
And then, “whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all” (10:43–44). Jesus himself provides the foundational model for this way of living; as the Son of Man, he came “to give his life a ransom for many” (10:45).
This persistent demand for complete life transformation—metanoia—resonates with Isaiah’s signal declaration that “Zion shall be redeemed by justice, and those in her who repent, by righteousness” (Isa 1:27), and regular prophetic calls to “return to me, says the Lord of hosts … return from your evil ways and from your evil deeds” (Zech 1:3–4); “repent and turn away from your idols; and turn away your faces from all your abominations” (Ezek 14:6; also 18:30), “return to me … remove your abominations from my presence and do not waver” (Jer 4:1); “return to me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning” (Joel 2:12).
The recurring refrain of Amos, lamenting, “yet you did not return to me, says the Lord” (Amos 4:6,8,9,10,11), leads the prophet to assure Israel that “I will do this to you; prepare to meet your God, O Israel!” (Amos 4:12)—words akin to what the psalmist says, “if one does not repent, God will whet his sword; he has bent and strung his bow; he has prepared his deadly weapons, making his arrows fiery shafts” (Ps 7:12–13).
“I will raise up for them a prophet like you from among their own people; I will put my words in the mouth of the prophet, who shall speak to them everything that I command” (Deut 18:18). In the way that Mark presents Jesus in his narrative, we can see how Jesus speaks and acts in the manner of a prophet like Moses, the archetype of prophetic leadership.
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Please Note: in the above comments, I am not seeking to “ prove” that Jesus “fulfils prophecy”. Rather, I am interested to explore the ways that an understanding of Hebrew Scripture can inform the way we read and understand the Gospel narratives about Jesus. For further thoughts on how we read prophetic texts in a Christian context, see
Every year at Christmas, in the Revised Common Lectionary, three full sets of readings are provided for “Christmas Eve, Morn, or Mid-Day”. The three sets of readings are provided for the Nativity of the Lord under the headings Proper I, Proper II, and Proper III.
Why are there three different sets of readings for the “Nativity of the Lord” (aka Christmas)? I hunted through some church web sites, and found that it is because of developments way back before the so-called Middle Ages … back in the days when Christianity was still developing and evolving and finding its place in society.
The simple explanation is that three different services of worship relating to “the nativity of the Lord” developed over time within Rome, and, rather than one replacing another, each was added, each having its own focus and also being held at a different location.
Catholic Culture says that “the first Mass originally was connected with the vigil service at the chapel of the manger in the church of St. Mary Major in Rome”; it was a small service at midnight which Pope Sixtus III began in 440CE. This has continued as the first service, Proper I in the Revised Common Lectionary.
The second Mass, we are advised, was “the public and official celebration of the feast, held on Christmas Day at the church of St. Peter, where immense crowds attended the pope’s Mass and received Communion”. That continues to this day, when the Pope appears on a balcony overlooking the packed square outside St Peter’s.
Catholic Culture advises, however, that “under Pope Gregory VII (1085) the place of this Mass was changed from St. Peter’s to St. Mary Major, because that church was nearer to the Lateran Palace (where the popes lived). It forms Proper III in the Revised Common Lectionary.
The third service to develop is actually the “middle service”, or Proper II in the Revised Common Lectionary. Catholic Culture explains: “In the fifth century, the popes started the custom of visiting at dawn, between these two services, the palace church of the Byzantine governor. There they conducted a service in honor of Saint Anastasia, a highly venerated martyr whose body had been transferred from Constantinople about 465 and rested in this church which bore her name.”
This was a popular service, because Saint Anastasia was widely venerated in the Roman Empire; in later centuries, as the empire dissolved and Anastasia receded in significance, this middle service was still retained, and another Mass of the Nativity was held. This became the second of the three Masses on Christmas Day.
The Roman Missal has shaped the liturgy for each of these services to highlight different elements of the Christmas story. Thus, “the first Mass honors the eternal generation of the Son from the Father, the second celebrates His incarnation and birth into the world, the third His birth, through love and grace, in the hearts of men [sic.]”.
The Gospel passage set for each Mass—reflected in the Gospel passages proposed by the Revised Common Lectionary—has led to the popular name for each service. Proper I offers Luke 2:1–14, which tells of the birth of Jesus and the angelic announcement to the shepherds in the fields; thus, people came to call the first Mass “Angels’ Mass”. Proper II proposes Luke 2:8–20, when the shepherds visit the newborn child and his parents; accordingly, it became known as the “Shepherds’ Mass”.
Proper III takes us to the majestic prologue to John’s Gospel, John 1:1–14, which tells in beautiful poetry of the coming of The Word, who takes on human flesh to live amongst us; this then characterises this service as the “Mass of the Divine Word”.
The three readings from the Epistles contain excerpts with short credal-like affirmations: “the manifestation of the glory of our great God and Saviour” (Titus 2:11–14), “when the goodness and lovingkindness of God our Saviour appeared” (Titus 3:4–7), and the statement that “in these last days [God] has spoken to us by a Son”, whose nature is explicated by a string of Hebrew Scripture citations (Heb 1:1–12). Each of these fits well for Christmas celebrations.
Likewise, the three Hebrew Scripture passages themselves orient us towards God’s actions within human history. For Proper I, First Isaiah speaks about the child to be born, to be named “Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace” (Isaiah 9:2–7). For Proper II, Third Isaiah declares, “the Lord has proclaimed to the ends of the earth, ‘see, your salvation comes’” (Isaiah 62:6–12). And for Proper III, Second Isaiah rejoices in “the messenger who brings good news, who announces salvation”, through whom “all the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God” (Isaiah 52:7–10).
Each prophetic passage, seen through the eyes of Christian faith, reflects the divine intention, made clear through Jesus, to offer salvation to every person on earth—prefiguring the good news of Jesus out of the different contexts of pre-exiling Israel (Isa 9), the hard years of Exile (Isa 52), and the time of rebuilding after that exile experience (Isa 62).
Finally, the Psalms selected for these three services (Psalms 96, 97, and 98) contribute strongly to the joyful ethos of the Christmas celebrations, with the injunction to “sing to the Lord a new song” (96:1, 98:1) and “worship the Lord in the splendour of holiness” (96:9), singing praises (98:4–6) and rejoicing (96:11–12; 97:8, 12; 98:8), celebrating that “the Lord is king” (97:1) and “exalted overall gods” (97:9) and rejoicing that “the Lord, he is coming, coming to judge the earth … with righteousness, and with truth” (96:13; 97:2; 98:9). These are notes that are entirely appropriate and fitting for the joyful celebrations of Christmas!
As we move on in the new year in the church’s calendar, this coming Sunday we celebrate the third Sunday in the season of Advent, and continue our preparations for Christmas—the coming of Jesus, Saviour, chosen one, and Lord (Luke 2:11). During Advent, the lectionary offers a selection of biblical passages designed to help us in our preparations, building to the climactic moment of Christmas Day, when we remember that “the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14).
These scripture passages include a sequence of excerpts from the Hebrew Scriptures—largely from the book of Isaiah—which orient us to the saving work of God, experienced by faithful people in Israel through the ages. These scripture passages inform us to sense how God was at work in the story of Jesus.
The passage proposed by the lectionary for this third Sunday in Advent (Isa 61:1–11) is another very well-known one. It comes from the third main section of Isaiah (chs.56—66), recording the words spoken by an unnamed during the return to the land after exile in Babylon. This prophet is often called Third Isaiah.
This passage is best known because the opening few verses are the words read by Jesus when he was handed the scroll to read in his hometown synagogue (Luke 4:16–19). Following that story offered by Luke, we read that Jesus “rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down, and the declared, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing” (Luke 4:20–21). That statement shapes the interpretive approach of Christians to the words in Isaiah 61; we are guided to read them as a prophetic declaration about Jesus.
However, we need to take care not to override and exclude the intention of the message (to the extent that we can assess it) of the original speaker and the faithful scribe in that ancient post-exilic context. To do so would be to perpetuate a supersessionist reading of scripture, which claims that “the old” is no longer relevant because “the new” has superseded it. This is poor interpretive practice and bad theology.
How might we best understand this passage? Understanding the dynamics at play at the time the words were spoken and then written down is instructive. For the returning exiles, preparing to re-establish their distinctive society in their much-loved land, the call of the prophet, through the gifting of the Spirit, was orienting them clearly to face the ethical issues of that society. Oppression and captivity had been the experience of past decades; liberty and joyful encouragement were now to be the markers of life in the land.
So central to the task of rebuilding society was the age-old commitment of care for the vulnerable and support for the needy. Prophets of times past had expressed this in terms of care for the widow, the orphan, and the foreigner in the land. Isaiah proclaims God’s judgement on those who “turn aside the needy from justice … and rob the poor of my people, that widows may be your spoil, and that you may make the orphans your prey!” (Isa 10:1–2).
Other prophets join their voices to Isaiah’s declaration. Ezekiel laments that “the sojourner suffers extortion in your midst; the fatherless and the widow are wronged in you” (Ezek 22:7). Jeremiah encourages the people of Jerusalem with a promise that God will allow them to continue to dwell in their land if they “do not oppress the sojourner, the fatherless, or the widow” (Jer 7:5–7).
The words of Third Isaiah continue in this prophetic stream. They also resonate with the psalmist, who praises “the God of Jacob … who executes justice for the oppressed; who gives food to the hungry … [who] sets the prisoners free, [who] opens the eyes of the blind, [who] lifts up those who are bowed down [and] loves the righteous, [who] watches over the strangers [and] upholds the orphan and the widow” (Ps 146:5, 7–9). See
The distinctive contribution of this particular prophet is to frame the task through the story of the Jubilee, “the year of the Lord’s favour” (v.2). That Jubilee year had, as its flip side, the ominous “day of vengeance of our God” for those who failed to follow the way of Jubilee justice. The Jubilee entailed the release of slaves and the cancelling of debts; it was meant to be practised in society every fifty years during the year of Jubilee (Lev 25:8–17; see esp. v.13).
Whilst these levitical prescriptions appear to be the ideal that the priests hoped for, actual evidence that this was ever implemented in Israelite society is lacking. Indeed, it is suggested that while the people were in Exile, the land of Israel would “lie desolate”, and “enjoy its sabbath years” (Lev 26:34), providing recompense for all those years when “it did not have on your sabbaths when you were living in it” (Lev 26:35).
The return to the land, as far as Third Isaiah is concerned, meant that these levitical prescriptions should indeed be adhered to, as the people promised “to walk in God’s law, which was given by Moses the servant of God, and to observe and do all the commandments of the Lord our Lord and his ordinances and his statutes” (Neh 10:29). In the way that Jesus cited this prophetic passage in his hometown synagogue (Luke 4:16), implementing the Jubilee prescriptions in his own time was also what he envisaged.
The prophet lays claim to the work of the Spirit in setting forth this programme for the people. “The spirit of the Lord is upon me”, he declares (Isa 61:1), placing himself in a long line of spirit- inspired leaders in Israel. The Spirit had guided Moses and was then gifted to chosen elders (Num 11:16–25). That Spirit was subsequently imparted to Joshua (Num 27:18; Deut 34:9) and then to a string of Judges: Othniel (Judg 3:10), Gideon (6:34), Jephthah (11:29), and Samson (13:24–25; 14:6,19; 15:14).
In later years, the Spirit guides Saul (1 Sam 10:6–7), David (2 Sam 23:2), Solomon (Wisd Sol 7:7), the line of prophets (Neh 9:30), the servant of the Lord (Isa 42:1), Ezekiel (Ezek 3:12, 14; 8:3; and many subsequent references), Daniel (Dan 5:12), Micah (Mic 3:8), and Zechariah (Zech 4:6). The activity that the Spirit undertook in these instances was invariably to provide guidance regarding the conduct of Israelite society, through these anointed leaders and inspired prophetic voices.
The oracle of the post-exilic prophet thus blends notes of celebration and justice, such that “righteousness and praise [will] spring up before all the nations” (v.11). There will be “a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning” (v.3), “everlasting joy” (v.7), with rejoicing and exultation akin to a wedding celebration (v.10). Society will be marked by righteousness (vv.3, 10, 11), to demonstrate that “I the Lord love justice, I hate robbery and wrongdoing” (v.8).
Jesus stands firmly in this line. His connection of Spirit with justice in society is drawn directly from Third Isaiah. The Jubilee he announces in his hometown (Luke 4:19) is explained in his series of blessing and woes (Luke 6:20–26), his welcome of and advocacy for poor and outsiders (Luke 7:34; 10:8–9; 15:1–2), and in a number of parables which prefigure reversals in society (for instance, 14:7–24; 16:19–31).
Alongside these sounds of justice, a note of joy runs through the public activities of Jesus (Luke 6:23; 8:13; 10:17; 15:6, 7, 9, 10, 32). It is in this sense that we can affirm that Jesus has “fulfilled this scripture”, and that this prophetic passage is a helpful guide for us during Advent.
As we move on in the very new year in the church’s calendar, this coming Sunday we celebrate the second Sunday in the season of Advent, and continue our preparations for Christmas—the coming of Jesus, Saviour, chosen one, and Lord (Luke 2:11). During Advent, the lectionary offers a selection of biblical passages designed to help us in our preparations, building to the climactic moment of Christmas Day, when we remember that “the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14).
These scripture passages include a sequence of excerpts from the Hebrew Scriptures—largely from the book of Isaiah—which orient us to the saving work of God, experienced by faithful people in Israel through the ages. These scripture passages lead us along a path that brings us to the point when we can sense God’s work in the story of Jesus.
The passage proposed for this second Sunday in Advent is a very well-known one; it is cited near the beginning of all four canonical Gospels, where it is used to describe what John the baptiser was doing as he called people to repentance and baptised them by dunking them in the River Jordan (Mark 1:2–5; Matt 3:3–6; Luke 3:1–6; John 1:24–28). One reason for hearing this Hebrew Scripture passage on Advent 2 may well be that the account of John, preaching and baptising, is the Gospel reading for this Sunday (Mark 1:1–8).
Whilst the voice which cries out “in the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord” (Isa 40:3) is applied directly to John in the Gospels, it has a different reference in its original context. The words of the exilic prophet whose work forms the second section (chs. 40–55) are oriented towards the appearance of God to the people of Israel as they wait and hope for the end of their exile in Babylon. The prophet says that God will comfort the people (v.1), speaking tenderly to Jerusalem, declaring that “her penalty is paid” (v.2)—and then, that “the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together” (v.5).
In the ensuing chapters, the prophet sets out the promise of God: “I will send to Babylon and break down all the bars, and the shouting of the Chaldeans will be turned to lamentation” (Isa 43:14; 48:14; and see the extended oracle of 47:1–15). He specifically nominates Cyrus of Persia as the one chosen (or anointed) by God to bring the exiles home (Isa 44:28—45:1; 45:13).
The prophet describes the journey leaving Babylon and returning to Jerusalem in terms reminiscent of the journey that Israel undertook in the wilderness, after leaving Egypt (Isa 41:17–20; 43:16–17; 49:9–10; 50:2). Because it was the Lord who “dried up the sea, the waters of the great deep [and] made the depths of the sea a way for the redeemed to cross over”, the prophet declares exultantly, “the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with singing” (Isa 51:10–11).
So the voice crying out in the original prophecy is not calling the people to repentance, but noting that they have already served their time of punishment (Isa 40:2), and that God is acting now to save them (43:3, 11; 45:15, 21; 49:26). Of Jerusalem, the prophet declares, “she has served her term … her penalty is paid … she has received from the Lord’s hand double for all her sins” (Isa 40:2).
Rather than declaring the judgements that are coming from the Lord in God and sounding a call to repentance, like the earlier pre-exilic prophet had done (Isa 1:27; 2:5; 5:1–7), this exilic prophet emphasises the positive deeds of the Lord as the exiles prepare to return to the land. The Lord will gather people from nations in all four directions into the land (Isa 43:5–7, 9) and will do “a new thing” for the people (Isa 42:9; 43:19; 48:6).
It is the statement about how the Lord will act that comes in the final verse of the prophetic passage which the lectionary offers for this coming Sunday (Isa 40:1–11) which resonates with us as we hear and ponder this passage at this time of the year (the second Sunday in Advent). The Lord God, we are told, “will feed his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms, and carry them in his bosom, and gently lead the mother sheep” (Isa 40:11).
God, says the psalmist, is “Shepherd of Israel, who lead[s] Joseph like a flock” (Ps 80:1). Elsewhere, a psalmist sings, “he is our God, and we are the people of his pasture, and the sheep of his hand” (Ps 95:7); and of course the opening line of perhaps the best-known psalm is simply, “the Lord is my shepherd” (Ps 23:1).
The prophet Ezekiel declares that God himself “will search for my sheep, and will seek them out. As shepherds seek out their flocks when they are among their scattered sheep, so I will seek out my sheep” (Ezek 34:11–12). Ezekiel then extends this role to the king when he reports God’s words: “my servant David shall be king over them; and they shall all have one shepherd” (Ezek 37:24).
And then another exilic prophet most dramatically describes Cyrus of a Persia as both the Lord’s anointed one (Isa 45:1) and the one of whom the Lord says, “he is my shepherd and he shall carry out all my purpose” (Isa 45:28). That is a striking extension of the strong scriptural imagery of the shepherd, normally applied to the God of Israel or rulers within Israel, which is now placed onto a foreign ruler.
In this season of Advent, as Christians anticipate the celebration of Christmas, the scriptural imagery of the shepherd caring for their flock evokes Jesus, whose birth is remembered at Christmas. The birth of Jesus was first announced to shepherds, who were the earliest visitors (according to Luke) to the newborn and his parents (Luke 2:8–20). Mark and Matthew report that Jesus, as an adult, “had compassion for [the crowd], because they were like sheep without a shepherd” (Mark 6:34; also Matt 9:36).
And in one of his famous teaching sections in John’s Gospel, Jesus declares that he is the shepherd (John 10:11)—indeed, “the good shepherd” (John 10:14), “the good shepherd [who] lays down his life for the sheep” (John 10:11). Jesus himself extends the metaphor, noting that there are “other sheep that do not belong to this fold” and promising that “I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice; so there will be one flock, one shepherd” (John 10:16).
Many in his Judean audience were not impressed at the way that Jesus, in these words, took on a key function of God and claimed it for himself. “He has a demon and is out of his mind. Why listen to him?”, they said (John 10:20). Aggrieved by Jesus’ claim, “the Father and I are one” (John 10:30), they sought to stone him, recalling the earlier antagonism of Judeans who sought to kill Jesus when he was “calling God his own Father, thereby making himself equal to God” (John 5:18). It seems that the care shown by this shepherd for his sheep failed to evoke the same response from his audience.
So this ancient prophecy reaches out across centuries, from Babylonian exile to Roman oppression, and on into the postmodern 21st century, with a promise of compassionate care for the people of God. Whilst the prophet was describing how God would care for the people of Israel in his time, the underlying dynamic is applicable, with due care, to the relationship of Jesus to his people, centuries later. It is in this regard that we can hear and read this passage as one that is appropriate for the season of Advent.
As we start a new year in the church’s calendar, this coming Sunday we will enter into the season of Advent, and begin our preparations once more for Christmas—the coming of Jesus, Saviour, chosen one, and Lord (Luke 2:11). During Advent, the lectionary offers a selection of biblical passages designed to help us in our preparations, building to the climactic moment of Christmas Day, when we remember that “the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14).
These scripture passages include a sequence of excerpts from the Hebrew Scriptures—largely from the book of Isaiah—which orient us to the saving work of God, experienced by faithful people in Israel through the ages. These scripture passages lead us along a path that brings us to the point when we can sense God’s work in the story of Jesus.
The book of Isaiah comprises three sections, which most scholars believe originated in three different periods during the history of Israel. The first section (chs. 1–39) is located in Judah in the eighth century BCE, as the Assyrians conquered the northern kingdom of Israel and attempted to gain control of the southern kingdom, but that effort failed. These events provide the context for the activity of Isaiah and the oracles include in chapters 1–39.
The second section of Isaiah (chs. 40–55) dates from the time of exile for the southern kingdom, after the people of Judah had been conquered by the Babylonians in 587 BCE; it offers words of hope as the people look to a return to the land. Then, the third section (chs. 56–66) is dated to a time when the exiles had returned to Judah, sometime after 520 BCE. By convention, the three parts are known as First Isaiah, Second Isaiah, and Third Isaiah.
For Advent 1, the lectionary offers us a passage from that final section, Third Isaiah, with words from the post-exilic prophet, “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake at your presence” (Isa 64:1). Echoing the apocalyptic words of Jesus in the Gospel passage for this Sunday (Mark 13), the prophet foreshadows the rending of the heavens that will occur when God steps into earthly life in Jesus of Nazareth.
Then from the very familiar passage that opens Second Isaiah, as the prophet looks to the end of the exile, on Advent 2 we hear the promise that “the Lord God comes with might … he will feed his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms, and carry them in his bosom, and gently lead the mother sheep” (Isa 40:10–11). Words of comfort for the exiles; words which Christian interpreters see as a depiction of the shepherding role that Jesus undertakes.
On Advent 3 we return to the third section of Isaiah, to hear another set of very familiar words, which Luke tells us that Jesus appropriated (Luke 4:16–21) to describe his own mission in Israel: “the spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me; he has sent me … to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour” (Isa 61:1–2).
Then, on Advent 4, we move away from Isaiah to hear the narrative account in which the prophet Nathan tells King David that God has told him, “your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me; your throne shall be established forever” (2 Sam 7:16). These are words which throughout the centuries since Jesus have been seen by Christians as applicable to his God-appointed role.
After this, for Christmas itself, we hear a selection of passages from Isaiah—one from each of the three sections of the book—which also have been seen by Christian interpreters to connect with the story of Jesus: “a child has been born for us, a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders; and he is named Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace” (Isa 9:6); “the Lord has proclaimed to the end of the earth: Say to daughter Zion, ‘See, your salvation comes; his reward is with him, and his recompense before him’” (Isa 62:11); and then, most strikingly, “all the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God” (Isa 52:10).
In the passage from Isaiah 64, the prophet is clear and direct. “Tear open the heavens” (v.1a), he implores God, shouting with the passionate intensity of one who fervently desires a clear sign of the presence of the divine. “Come down, so that the mountains would quake at your presence”, he cries (v.1b). After all the devastation that Israel has experienced (vv.6–7, 10–11), the psalmist yearns for God to act, just as God did “when you did awesome deeds that we did not expect, you came down, the mountains quaked at your presence” (v.3).
The various tribulations of the people of Israel, from their testings in the wilderness through to the Exile, when they had been “burned with fire … cut down” (v.16), are seen as multiple punishments heaped onto Israel. So the psalmist implores God, “do not be exceedingly angry, O Lord, and do not remember iniquity forever” (v.9), and pleads to God, “will you restrain yourself, O Lord? Will you keep silent, and punish us so severely?” (v.12).
The tone is much like the psalms where the writer pleads for God to act, for mercy to be shown. “O God, you have rejected us, broken our defenses; you have been angry; now restore us!” is the plea in one psalm (Ps 60:1). In another, the psalmist laments, “How long, O Lord? Will you be angry forever? Will your jealous wrath burn like fire?” (Ps 79:5); we hear similar words as the psalmist elsewhere asks, “Will you be angry with us forever? Will you prolong your anger to all generations?” (Ps 85:5).
Perhaps most vivid of all, and closest to the thoughts that the prophet declares, is this psalm: “Bow your heavens, O Lord, and come down; touch the mountains so that they smoke. Make the lightning flash and scatter them; send out your arrows and rout them. Stretch out your hand from on high; set me free and rescue me from the mighty waters, from the hand of aliens, whose mouths speak lies, and whose right hands are false.” (Ps 144:5–8)
The action of tearing is something that is dramatic and final. It damages permanently. The prophet Hosea describes this vividly in his account of how God plans to respond to Ephraim, when they “keep on sinning and make a cast image for themselves”; God’s intention is, “I will fall upon them like a bear robbed of her cubs, and will tear open the covering of their heart; there I will devour them like a lion, as a wild animal would mangle them” (Hos 13:8).
The language of “tearing” is used to describe the punishment that God will bring upon sinful Israel. Solomon is told, “since you have not kept my covenant and my statutes that I have commanded you, I will surely tear the kingdom from you and give it to your servant” (1 Ki 11:11). That threat is reflected also in psalms (Ps 52:5; 137:7–8) and prophecies (Jer 22:24–27; and cf. Amos 3:15). But the orientation of tearing in this prophecy is not about punishing Israel—rather, the psalmist, as we have seen, is imploring God to come, end the punishment of Israel, and “not remember iniquity forever” (Isa 64:9).
Tearing clothes in an act of mourning is reflected at times in scripture (2 Sam 3:31; Esther 4:1). But this seems far from the intent of this passage, which is focussed on seeking a sign of the presence of God, “so that the nations might tremble at your presence” (Isa 64:2) and so that God might “meet those who gladly do right, those who remember you in your ways” (Isa 64:5).
For Christian interpreters, however, when the prophet speaks of God tearing open the heavens in order that God might “come down” (from heaven, to earth), the clearest resonance lies elsewhere. Much is made of the connection with the moment when the curtain of the Temple was torn “from top to bottom” (Mark 15:38; Matt 27:51; Luke 23:45) at the death of Jesus. God dramatically tore apart the curtain that kept the priests from seeing the Holy of Holies, where God resided (Exod 26:33; Heb 9:3) and came down “from top to bottom”, from heaven to earth, in Jesus (cf. John 6:41, 51, 58; Phil 2:5–8).
And so a Christian appropriation of this passage may well appreciate the symbolism of God overcoming the division between heaven and earth in this way. And Christian interpreters may well go on to appropriate other phrases in this prophecy of Isa 64 as relating to Jesus, for in his life, they might affirm, God has done awesome deeds (v.3), has met “those who gladly do right” (v.5), who has reshaped sinners as the potter fashions the clay (v.8), who forgives iniquity (v.9), who acts as the only God ever known (v.4).
That said, we should caution that interpreting this passage and other ancient Israelite prophetic passages as predictive of Jesus is a strategy that we should undertake with care. Christians have a bad track record of taking Jewish texts and Christianising them, talking and writing and thinking about them as if they were always intended simply to be understood as Christian texts. But first of all, they were Jewish (or, to be precise, ancient Israelite) texts.
So the original setting of such passages needs always to be considered—the historical, social, political, cultural contexts in which they came into being, as well as the literary genre being used and the linguistic and literary conventions being deployed. Obliterating the original setting and acting as if the text was intended for a time many centuries later, is unfair and unethical.
Indeed, Christianising Old Testament texts can well become the first step in a dangerous process, as we firstly remove Judaism from our interpretive framework, and then treat the prophetic text as having nothing to do with Judaism, and everything to do with Christianity. This is the pathway that can lead to antisemitism—actively speaking and acting against Jews and Judaism. And having arrived at such a destination, we are reinforced in our pattern of ignoring and obliterating the earlier meanings in the text.
Texts (whether biblical or other literature) are always multivalent—that is, open to being interpreted in a number of ways, offering multiple ways of understanding them. That’s why we have sermons, and don’t just read the biblical text and then put it down. We keep it before our minds, and explore options for understanding and appropriating it. Ignoring the multiple layers of meaning inherent in biblical passages is a reductionist and self-centred way of undertaking interpretation. Reducing the prophetic texts to predictive declarations solely about Jesus is a poor interpretive process.
So let us tread with caution, this Advent, and beyond, as we hear, savour, and interpret texts from these ancient Israelite works—in which, nevertheless, we can indeed hear “the word of God” to us, in this day.
“Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, just say this, ‘The Lord needs them.’ And he will send them immediately.” So reports the Gospel of Matthew, in the Gospel offered by the lectionary for this coming Sunday (Matt 21:1–11). The same story is told at Mark 11 and Luke 19.
John’s account is much more succinct; that Gospel simply notes, “Jesus found a young donkey and sat on it” (John 12:14), before explaining that this fulfils what was written in a scripture passage, “Do not be afraid, daughter of Zion. Look, your king is coming, sitting on a donkey’s colt!” (John 12:15, quoting Zech 9:9).
The narrator in Matthew’s Gospel explains that “this took place to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet, saying, ‘Tell the daughter of Zion, Look, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey’” (Matt 21:15). The prophet who is referred to in both John and Matthew is Zechariah, a post-exilic figure whose work is found as the eleventh of the twelve Minor Prophets in Hebrew Scripture.
Zechariah was active in the period when the exiles in Babylon were returned to Judah late in the 6th century BCE, by a decree of the Persian King, Cyrus (whom Second Isaiah described as God’s “Messiah”; see Isa 45:1). We are told that in his decree, Cyrus acknowledges “the Lord, the God of heaven” and states that “any of those among you who are of his people … are now permitted to go up to Jerusalem in Judah, and rebuild the house of the Lord, the God of Israel” (Ezra 1:2–4).
Under Nehemiah as Governor, worship had been reinstituted in Jerusalem (Ezra 3:1–7), the walls around the city of Jerusalem were rebuilt (Neh 2—6, 12), and the Temple was rebuilt and rededicated (Ezra 5–6). After this, the Law was read in the city under the guidance of Ezra, a priest who is also described as a scribe (Neh 8) and the covenant with the Lord is renewed (Neh 9–10).
Initially, there was opposition to the rebuilding works from “the enemies of Judah and Benjamin” (Ezra 4:1–16), and with intervention from King Artaxerxes, work on the temple ceased (Ezra 4:17–24). The narrative in Ezra reports that “the prophets, Haggai and Zechariah son of Iddo, prophesied to the Jews who were in Judah and Jerusalem, in the name of the God of Israel who was over them” (Ezra 5:1), and then work on restoring the temple recommenced (Ezra 5:2).
Further opposition emerged (Ezra 5:3–17), resulting in intervention from King Darius that decreed “let the house be rebuilt … let the Governor of the Jews and the elders of the Jews rebuild this house of God on its site … let it be done with all diligence” (Ezra 6:1–12).
The end result is that the prophets of the Lord and the rulers of the Persian Empire collaborated together to ensure that the temple would be restored: “So the elders of the Jews built and prospered, through the prophesying of the prophet Haggai and Zechariah son of Iddo. They finished their building by command of the God of Israel and by decree of Cyrus, Darius, and King Artaxerxes of Persia” (Ezra 6:14).
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Zechariah dates his opening prophecy to “the eighth month, in the second year of Darius” (Zech 1:1), which places him as a contemporary of Haggai and perhaps around the same time that the anonymous prophet whose words are known as Third Isaiah (Isaiah 56—66). Zechariah begins witha familiar prophetic refrain: “return to me, says the Lord of hosts, and I will return to you, says the Lord of hosts” (1:3), noting that when this message was presented to earlier Israelites, “they repented and said, ‘the Lord of hosts has dealt with us according to our ways and deeds, just as he planned to do’” (1:6).
What follows this opening salvo is a report of eight visions (1:7—6:8). They are dated to “the twenty-fourth day of the eleventh month, the month of Shebat, in the second year of Darius” (2:7), two months after the final prophecy of Haggai. The visions combine glimpses of hope with reminders of the need to remain faithful to the covenant: “if you will walk in my ways and keep my requirements, then you shall rule my house and have charge of my courts” (3:7). The fourth vision (3:1–10) includes the figure of “the accuser” (ha-satan in Hebrew) standing at the right hand of Joshua, to accuse him (3:1).
At the conclusion of the eighth vision there follows words of condemnation (7:1–7) and punishment (7:8–14), citing classic prophetic notes: “render true judgments, show kindness and mercy to one another; do not oppress the widow, the orphan, the alien, or the poor; and do not devise evil in your hearts against one another” (7:9–10).
Then come words of promise (8:1–23): “I will return to Zion, and will dwell in the midst of Jerusalem; Jerusalem shall be called the faithful city, and the mountain of the Lord of hosts shall be called the holy mountain” (8:3). Once again, prophetic injections are offered: “speak the truth to one another, render in your gates judgments that are true and make for peace, do not devise evil in your hearts against one another, and love no false oath” (8:16–17).
An oracle pronouncing judgement on other nations then follows (9:1–8), followed by a joyful celebration of the restoration of Judah (9:9–11:3), introduced by a rousing shout of joy: “rejoice greatly, O daughter Zion!Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem! Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” (Zech 9:9). This verse is well-known, of course, from its quotation in the story of Jesus’s entry into the city of Jerusalem, which we will hear this Sunday (Matt 21:5).
A quirky feature is that some interpreters have taken the words of Zechariah so literally, that they imagine Jesus actually had two animals with him as he entered the city. Of course, the original oracle was formed in typical Hebraic parallelism, a pattern whereby an idea is expressed one way, then immediately repeated using other words. Thus, “riding on a donkey” was the first expression of the idea, followed immediately by “on a colt, the foal of a donkey”. One animal, two ways of expressing that.
The remaining chapters of Zechariah continue the note of exultation about the future, reworking the motif of “the day of the Lord” so that it signals joy for Jerusalem and terror for other nations (12:3, 4, 6, 8, 9, 11; 13:1, 2, 4; 14:1, 4, 6, 8, 9, 13, 20, 21). A triumphant note of universalism is sounded: “on that day “the Lord will become king over all the earth” (14:9) and “all who survive of the nations that have come against Jerusalem shall go up year after year to worship the King, the Lord of hosts, and to keep the festival of booths” (14:16).
The quotation from Zechariah in the story is a reminder that there is always hope; in the difficult situation of rebuilding the beloved ruins, reconstituting the fractured society, reconstituting the religious practices and customs that had lapsed, hope remains strong. Little did those travelling with Jesus into the city know what lay ahead of him, and them, in the coming days. Their hopes were high, very high, on this day. Joy came easily to them.
It was a day for celebration. This could well be the time when “the Lord will become king over all the earth”—even over the mighty Romans, they may well have felt. Joy was the dominant emotion, as the singing, waving of branches, and celebration demonstrated.
On the Fifth Sunday in Lent, the scripture passages offered by the lectionary revolve around a central theme: life in contrast to death. It’s not every Sunday that all four passages line up to provide a clear and obvious focus on a single theme. For more than half of the Sundays in the year, the Hebrew Scripture, Epistle, and Gospel each follow their own course, and any overlap of theme is accidental, not planned. For Sundays in Advent, Christmas, and Lent, as well as key days like Pentecost, Trinity, and the Reign of Christ, the thematic overlap is intentional. This week we have just such a Sunday!
Death is at the heart of the story of Lazarus that forms the Gospel passage for Sunday (John 11:1–45). Initially, Jesus is told “he whom you love is ill” (John 11:3), but when he arrives in Bethany, Martha accosts him with “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” (11:21)—an accusation repeated by her sister Mary (11:31); and then comes a graphic description provided by Martha as they draw near to the tomb: “already there is a stench because he has been dead four days” (11:39).
The emergence of Lazarus from the tomb marks a climactic moment, for the family in Bethany and many of their neighbours (11:44–45), but also for the chief priests and Pharisees, who together determine to put Jesus to death (11:53). The seventh sign recounted in this Gospel is the most significant miracle of Jesus, but also the deed that determines the fate of Jesus. Soon after this event in Bethany, he says, “I have come to this hour” (12:27), the hour when “I am lifted up from the earth, [when I] will draw all people to myself” (12:32), the hour when the Father will “glorify your Son so that the Son may glorify you” (17:1). The death of Jesus is to be, paradoxically, the complete fulfilment of his mission (19:30)—the pathway into life eternal (3:16; 10:28; 17:3).
This climactic movement, of death moving to life in Bethany, resonates with the words of the prophet Ezekiel and also the writings of the apostle Paul that are offered for this coming Sunday. Ezekiel confronts the signs of death: “The Lord set me down in the middle of a valley; it was full of bones. He led me all around them; there were very many lying in the valley, and they were very dry” (Ezek 37:1–2). Paul considers the state of humanity: “to set the mind on the flesh is death … the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God; it does not submit to God’s law—indeed it cannot, and those who are in the flesh cannot please God” (Rom 8:6–8).
So, death is in view in these three readings. It is no wonder that the psalm we are offered alongside them speaks a cry of deep despair: “out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord” (Ps 130:1). The depths of the earth were the place where sinful people went (Ps 63:9; Isa 14:15), following the lead of the Egyptians who pursued the Israelites and “went down into the depths like a stone” (Exod 5:4–5; Neh 9:11; Isa 63:11–13). There, in the depths, God’s anger burned (Deut 32:22).
However, those banished to the depths were able to be brought back from the depths by God’s decree (Ps 68:22; 71:20; 86:13), so the cry of the psalmist from the depths is followed by the plea, “Lord, hear my voice! Let your ears be attentive to the voice of my supplications!” (Ps 103:2). As the prophet Micah affirms, God’s steadfast love will rescue those who “lick dust like a snake,
like the crawling things of the earth”, and will indeed “cast all our sins into the depths of the sea” (Mic 7:17, 19). So the psalmist affirms, “I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word I hope” (Ps 103:5).
Just as Lazarus emerges from the tomb where his dead body was laid, so Ezekiel foresees a wondrous revival amongst the dead bones of the people of Israel: “I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil; then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken and will act,” says the Lord” (Ezek 37:11). The vision he sees emac s that dramatically. Likewise, Paul glimpses that same hope: “if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit that dwells in you” (Rom 8:11).
Both prophet and apostle hold to the hope enacted in the Gospel and articulated by the psalmist: “Israel, hope in the Lord! For with the Lord there is steadfast love, and with him is great power to redeem. It is he who will redeem Israel from all its iniquities” (Ps 103:7–8).
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Ezekiel was both a prophet and a priest (Ezek 1:3). He had been exiled to Babylon during the siege of Jerusalem by King Nebuchadnezzar II of Babylon (599 BCE; see 2 Kings 24:10–17). His prophetic activity was thus undertaken entirely in exile. He addresses both those in exile with him in Babylon, and also those left behind in Judah. His prophecies continue through the period when the people in Judah were conquered and taken to join Ezekiel in exile (587 BCE; see 2 Ki 25:1–21), and then for some time after that.
A dramatic vision opens the book, in which “the glory of God” appears in the form of a fiery, flaming chariot (1:4–28). Priestly attention to detail marks the account of this vision, whilst contains multiple allusions to other scriptural stories. The bright cloud and flashing fire evokes the scene on Mount Sinai, when God gave Moses the Law (Exod 19:16–19); the “burning coals of fire” (1:13) remind us of the burning coals in the scene of the call of Isaiah (Isa 6:6); and “the bow in the cloud on a rainy day” evokes the sign of the covenant made with Noah (Gen 9:12–17). In seeing this vision, Ezekiel has had a life-transforming experience!
Ezekiel is impelled to play his role as a prophet by “the hand of the Lord” (1:3; 3:22; 8:1; etc); indeed, he says, “the spirit lifted me up” (3:12). That same spirit continues to lift him up with regularity (8:3; 11:1, 24; 37:1; 43:5) to show him vision after vision. More than this, Ezekiel declares that “the spirit entered me” (3:24), a process which he promises will be experienced by Israel as a whole (36:26–28)—for the Lord says he will “pour out my spirit upon the house of Israel” (39:29).
This emphasis on the renewing spirit of God is seen, most dramatically, by Ezekiel when he is taken by the spirit into “the middle of a valley … full of bones” (37:1) and sees a vision that he conveys in what must be his most famous oracle. What Ezekiel sees in this valley of dry bones is the work of God, as God puts sinews and flesh and skin on the bones, and breathes into the bodies so created, so that they live (37:5–6, 8, 10).
The vision indicates what God will do: “I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil” (37:14). The end of the exile, it seems, is in sight. This passage is often interpreted in a Christian context as a pointer both to the resurrection of Jesus, and also to the general resurrection; indeed, its appearance on the Fifth Sunday in Lent means that it complements, and indeed illuminates, the dramatic story of Jesus bringing Lazarus back to life, as he approaches the tomb, and cries in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” (John 11:38–44).
For Ezekiel, however, this vision is not a far-into-the-future prediction (foretelling), but a word of hope to the people in their immediate situation (forthtelling). Indeed, the very next section of this chapter reports a proclamation of Ezekiel which is quite directly forthtelling. The two sticks that he takes (37:16) stand for Judah and Israel; as he joins the sticks, so he points to the return of these peoples from their exile, their return “to their own land”, and a cleansing which will mean “they shall be my people, and I will be their God” (37:21–23, 27).
That final phrase is a common covenantal affirmation made by God (Lev 26:12; Ruth 1:16; Jer 7:23; 11:4; 24:7; 30:22; 31:1, 33; 32:38; Ezek 11:20; 14:11; 36:28; Zech 2:11; and Hos 1:10–11, overturning Hos 1:9). The reunited people shall have one king (37:24) and they will observe “an everlasting covenant” (37:26).
So the dramatic story that the prophet Ezekiel reports from his vision set in the middle of a valley full of dry bones is intended to speak directly into the life of the covenant people of God, the people of Israel, offering them hope despite their current circumstances.
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Paul also was commissioned for his task through a vision—reported in graphic terms by Luke, who makes the moment into a grand call-and-commissioning scene (Acts 9:3–8; 22:6–11; 26:12–18), but mentioned only briefly, in general terms, in passing by Paul himself (1 Cor 9:1; and perhaps Gal 1:1, 12). Of course, Luke was not present for this event, so he shaped in along the lines of classic call-and-commissioning narratives that existed in earlier Jewish writings. (I have explored this in detail in my commentary on Acts in the Eerdman’s Commentary on the Bible, 2003).
That vision turned Paul from persecutor of the followers of Jesus to an apostle fervently declaring “the good news of Jesus Christ” as far as possible, “from Jerusalem and as far around as Illyricum” (Rom 15:19). (Illyricum was a Roman province that covered the coastal area of the Balkans, northwest of Macedonia stretching towards Italy.) Paul delivers this good news in person to many communities, but he sets it out at length in his letter to believers in Rome, which he had not yet visited.
Paul is embued with the same hope that the psalmist and the prophet demonstrate. He rejoices with the Thessalonians that they share with him in “hope in our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Thess 1:3), tells the Galatians that “through the Spirit, by faith, we eagerly waits for the hope of righteousness” (Gal 5:5), and reminds the Corinthians that “faith, hope and love abide” (1 Cor 13:13). In a subsequent letter to believers in Corinth, he asserts that “he who rescued us from so deadly a peril will continue to secure us; on him we have set our hope that he will rescue us again” (2 Cor 1:10)
Paul reports to the Romans that “we boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God” (Rom 4:2) and that it is “in hope that we were saved” (Rom 8:24). He affirms that it is “by steadfastness and the encouragement of the scriptures, we might have hope” (Rom 15:4), notes that scripture promises that “the root of Jesses shall come … in him the Gentiles shall hope” (Rom 15:12), and so characterises God as “the God of hope” (Rom 15:13). He shares in that strong hope which is sung by the psalmist and spoken by the prophet, and which is acted out in the Gospel reading for this Sunday.
The season of Epiphany is marked by an emphasis on light, a symbol of the manifestation or revelation of God in Jesus. (Epiphany is from the Greek word for “shine forth”—thus, a manifestation, a revelation.)
The note of revelation through light was sounded in the announcement of an unnamed post-exilic prophet found in the Hebrew Scripture reading for The Feast of the Epiphany: “arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you … nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn” (Isa 60:1, 3).
It was continued in the words of another, earlier, unnamed prophet in the Hebrew Scripture reading for Epiphany 1, the Feast of the Baptism of Jesus, in words sung to The Servant: “I have given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations, to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison those who sit in darkness” (Is 42:6–7).
Then, for Epiphany 2, we heard a repetition and extension of that imagery of light, in the second song sung to The Servant: “I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth” (Isa 49:6). There was also a repeated indication of the worship that kings will bring: “Kings shall see and stand up, princes, and they shall prostrate themselves, because of the Lord, who is faithful, the Holy One of Israel, who has chosen you” (Isa 49:7).
The motif of illumination continued on Epiphany 3, as the prophet Isaiah, some centuries earlier, foresaw the significance of the birth of a child in the royal line: “the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness on them light has shined” (Isa 9:2).
For Epiphany 4, the focus shifted to the way that people were to respond to the revelation of God’s ways, made known in the words of the prophets, through the testimony of The Servant, and even through the birth of a child. So, Micah proclaimed, “the Lord … has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” (Mic 6:8).
Then followed, on Epiphany 5, the advice of the anonymous post-exilic prophet whose words are collected in the last section of the book of Isaiah. Ne advises the people to enact the fast that the Lord chooses: “to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke … to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin” (Isa 58:6–7).
Immediately following this, the prophet returns to the Epiphany theme of illumination: “your light shall break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up quickly; your vindicator shall go before you, the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard” (Isa 58:8). These ways of acting are, as I have explored, central to the covenant between God and Israel; the prophet itemises a series of practical behaviours that would signal that Israelite society was founded on the justice and righteousness that God required through the covenant. That is how they were to respond to the illumination of the light, given to them time and time again. See
So each week, an excerpt from a prophetic text has undergirded the key feature of the ongoing season of Epiphany. Of course, the prophets weren’t speaking about our Christian season of Epiphany; but the compilers of the lectionary have chosen these passages, quite deliberately, to provide an ongoing focus each Sunday throughout this season.
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This coming Sunday, by contrast, there is no mention of light, or dark. However, the passage chosen from Hebrew Scripture (Deut 30:15–20) does continue the motif of justice, as articulated by prophets before the Exile (Micah 6) and on return to the land, after exile (Isaiah 58). We are offered an excerpt from the final speech of Moses, the great prophet, as it was attributed to him by a writer many centuries later from the time he is alleged to have lived—the unknown author of the book of Deuteronomy.
When Josiah was King of Judah (from 640 to 609 BCE), he instituted a series of reforms (probably during the late 620’s). What drove the reforms was the discovery, in the midst of the restoration of the Temple, of an ancient book of the Law, at the bottom of a money chest that had recently been raided to pay for renovations to the Temple (2 Ki 22:8–10).
This book set out the requirements of the Law; when it was discovered, Josiah realises that the nation has not been faithful to the covenant, and that God will punish them. He consults the prophet Huldah, who advised King Josiah to undertake the thoroughgoing reforms of religion in Judah that characterised his reign. “Josiah took away all the abominations from all the territory that belonged to the people of Israel, and made all who were in Israel worship the Lord their God. All his days they did not turn away from following the Lord the God of their ancestors” (2 Chron 24:33).
It is thought by some scholars that the book found in the money chest was Deuternonomy, or perhaps an earlier version of the book we now have. (The name, Deuteronomy, comes from two Greek words, meaning “second law”—perhaps a reference to the fact that in this book so many of the laws stated in Exodus and Leviticus are restated a second time.) There is no doubt that this book sounds a single, insistent theme, requiring that the people of Israel listen to the words that God gave Moses to speak to them, that they listen and obey, putting the instructions and commands into practice in every element of their daily lives.
Indeed, a key statement in this book is recited to this day by faithful Jews, reminding them of their obligation to respond to God’s gift: “Hear, O Israel: The Lord is our God, the Lord alone; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might” (Deut 6:4–5, known for the first word of these verses, the Shema).
So this passage continues: “Keep these words that I am commanding you today in your heart. Recite them to your children and talk about them when you are at home and when you are away, when you lie down and when you rise. Bind them as a sign on your hand, fix them as an emblem on your forehead, and write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.” (Deut 6:6–9; see also 11:18–21).
This central commandment is to be remembered and enacted at every time of the day, in every situation and place. Throughout this book, the people are regularly reminded to “keep” the commandments (4:2, 40; 5:10, 12, 15, 29; 6:2, 6, 17, 24; 7:9; 8:2, 6, 11; 10:13; 11:1, 8; 13:4; 16:10, 13, 15; 26:17–18; 27:1, 9; 28:9). They are told to “obey the voice of the Lord God” (8:20; 13:4, 18), the Lord who speaks through the commandments (11:27–28; 12:28; 15:5; 26:17; 27:10; 28:1–2, 13, 15; 30:2, 8, 10, 16). Loving the Lord God is at the heart of these commandments (6:5; 7:9; 10:12; 11:1, 13, 22; 13:3; 19:9; 30:6, 16, 20). In this way, the people “hold fast” to God (10:20; 11:22; 13:4; 30:20).
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In the passage offered for this coming Sunday, this requirement of diligent listening and faithful obedience is sounded for the final time in this long book; the people are instructed to “choose life, so that you and your descendants may live, loving the Lord your God, obeying him, and holding fast to him” (Deut 30:19–20).
And so, the benefits of such listening, obeying, and holding fast are set forth: “if you obey the commandments of the Lord your God that I am commanding you today, by loving the Lord your God, walking in his ways, and observing his commandments, decrees, and ordinances, then you shall live and become numerous, and the Lord your God will bless you in the land that you are entering to possess” (Deut 30:16).
We have already discussed how Torah (the Law) was widely appreciated and deeply valued amongst the people of Israel, such that psalms and prophetic voices could exclaim, “happy are those who fear the Lord, who greatly delight in his commandments” (Ps 112:1). See
It is worth noting that, in Hebrew, the same word (Shema) is translated into English by two key terms—most often, as “hear” (as in Deut 6:4), but on occasions, as “obey” (as in Deut 11:27–28, and other places in this book). The sense of obey, then, is to hear, register, and put into practice what has been heard—thus, to obey. Hearing is not simply an act of the ear; it is an act of the whole being, moving from what the ear registers to what the mouth says, the hands do, the heart shows. That is the full sense of the instructions that are given in this speech by Moses at the end of his life (according to the narrative setting of the whole book; see Deut 31:14; 32:48–52; 34:1–8).
In the verse prior to this section, the people are reminded of how they are to relate to God: “the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe” (30:14). Hearing God, obeying the commandments that God has given, and living God’s way, are all immediately at hand—indeed, they are within the people. This is much like Jeremiah’s vision of the new covenant, when “I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts” (Jer 31:33), or Ezekiel’s vision of the valley of dry bones, when God promises, “I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live” (Ezek 37:14).
Indeed, this positive appreciation of the Law is picked up well in the Psalm offered for this Sunday, namely, the first stanza (verses 1–8) of the longest psalm in the Bible, Psalm 119. This psalm offers lavish and continued praise for Torah—identified variously as “the law of the Lord” (v.1), “his decrees” (v.2), “his ways” (v.3), “your precepts” (v.4), “your statutes” (v.5), “your commandments” (v.6), “your righteous ordinances” (v.7), and once again “your statutes” (v.8). These terms recur in each stanza of this lengthy, extended psalm of 178 verses, along with the familiar “your word” (vv.9, 11, 16).
The blessings of hearing and obeying this law are also set forth in this opening stanza of Psalm 119: those who hear and obey are blameless (v.1), blessed (vv.1,2), they do no wrong (v.3), keep the precepts diligently (v.4), have steadfast ways (v.5), will not be opus to shame (v.6), praise God with an upright heart (v.7) and are not forsaken by God (v.8). Similarly appreciative phrases recur through all 22 stanzas of this psalm.
“Choose life, that you may live; loving the Lord your God, obeying him, and holding fast to him” (Deut 30:19–20). “Happy are those whose way is blameless, who walk in the law of the Lord” (Ps 119:1). Or, as Jesus declares, “whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments, and teaches others to do the same, will be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven” (Matt 5:19).
An Informed Faith 