Bring on the Light: Isaiah 9:1-4 (First Essay)

"But there will be no gloom for those who were in anguish. In the former time he brought into contempt the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, but in the latter time he will make glorious the way of the sea, the land beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the nations. 2 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. 3 You have multiplied the nation, you have increased its joy; they rejoice before you as with joy at the harvest, as people exult when dividing plunder. 4 For the yoke of their burden, and the bar across their shoulders, the rod of the oppressor, you have broken as on the day of Midian."

Introduction

Whenever I read this passage, I think of the paintings of the Dutchman Jan Vermeer (1632-1675). Extraordinarily gifted, able to paint at his own pace for many years because of support from his in-laws, but then dying at a young age before his fame had reached even beyond the reaches of his native Delft, Vermeer explored in such masterpices as "Girl Reading a Letter by an Open Window" or "Girl with the Pearl Earring," the interplay of light, shadow and color on the faces and features of common people of his day. Here is a brief biographical sketch. But the painting that this passage most evokes in my mind is his "The Milkmaid," painted in his prime (1658-61) and now residing in the Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam. In this glorious painting a simple girl is pouring milk in the kitchen or parlor of a home. The telltale sign of Vermeer's work (a window with light streaming in) is to the left; the girl, lost in her task, is bathed in the fullness of the streaming light. The bread, basket, pitcher and flowing milk all capture the "extraordinary luminosity," as one scholar has called it, of the painting. Though one is hesitant to impose a theological reading on a painting of everyday life, one could say that the most humble and common task of life, when illumined by light, yields an incomparable and hitherto-unnoticed beauty. Light is the key to Vermeer's alluring appeal to our age.

I could almost stay with Vermeer all day--but there is a passage to exposit! In the familiar text for today, the author explores three themes: (1) the change from the former oppression to future blessing (9:1); (2) the dawning of the light (9:2-3); and (3) the breaking of the burdens/yokes on the people of God (9:4).

II. From Former to Latter Days (v. 1)

Though the English translation recognizes the contrast between "former" and "latter" days, the contrast is more stark in the Hebrew. The end of 8:23 in Hebrew talks about no more gloom coming to those who were distressed. But then it breaks into poetry. The rest of 8:23 (9:1 in English) contrasts "the former time," and the "latter time." In that earlier time God brought the tribes of Zebulun and Naphtali into contempt. That was the fomer condition of the people. But the latter times will see another reality. Simply put, God will "bring glory" to "the way of the sea," the land "beyond the Jordan," or "Galilee of the Gentiles." What is significant to me about the contrast between old and new is: (a) the reality of the reversal; and (b) the new names given after fortunes are reversed.

I begin wth the seemingly hopeless condition of the "former times." That condition is described at the end of Is. 8. Hear those words:

"They will turn their faces upward, or they will look to the earth, but will see only distress and darkness, the gloom of anguish; and they will be thrust into thick darkness," Is. 8:21-22.

Though the historical reference is to the people of Israel, especially the northern tribes, which would be caught up in the Assyrian invasion of 721 BCE, a theological reading of the words allows us to apply them to the nature of human life in any era. Distress is the only thing that some of us can see at significant and prolonged periods in our life. We turn our faces "upward," but the heavens appear as brass. We look to the "earth," but all we see are the fruitless and empty results of our miniscule toil. We look around us and all we see is the gloom of anguish. We are thrust into the thick darkness. That, friends, is the condition of our lives.

I hesitate, therefore, to rush too quickly to the "light" and "hope" imagery of Is. 9:2-4 when the first verse hints at the great gloom and darkness which formerly characterized the life of the people. We spend a good deal of our lives trying to fight through the gloom and clear up the darkness in our lives. Sometimes, through no credit of our own, the darkness dissipates or the gloom recedes. But often they just remain and hang around like an impenetrable Spring fog. We often think that light is dawning when, in fact, it is a slight vision of light we receive and then it is extinguished by the thick descent of the gloom again. I don't know how and if it is possible for the steady experience of light to characterize our lives; I don't know if it is possible for the felt experience of light to bathe our existence after gloom has receded. It seems more accurate to say that nature acts as a sort of "mirror" of our lives--nature gives us sparkling-clear days, but it often follows these with gloom and gray days--when one just wants to escape to Arizona.

These, then, are the "former days." They are the dark and gloomy times. Those are the times when God brought into contempt the far-off tribes of Zebulon and Naphtali. But now, thanks to the delivering hand of God, we are in the "latter days." And, in these days, we have a not only have a different situation (light instead of darkness), but we have different names. I will get to the light in the next section, but I want to pause for a second on the unusual wording of the end of v. 1, quoted above. The text says that God will make glorious the way of the sea, beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles. Is this meant to be the same land that was just described as that of "Zebulun" and "Naphtali"? I think so. The point would be that the tribal identification of the people of Israel will be changed to include a "bigger" or "different" name. Now we are taken away from the limiting and ethnic identity to a world identity.

A way to the sea indicates a highway, a way to link people and cultures. Galilee of the nations is a provocative title because it suggests that the land will now be a sort of international city or place, a place where peoples of all kinds will mingle. Thus, when we first have a reversal, we not only look to the objective situation of the people begin changed, but we see also a name change. The name change means a mission change. When Jesus became the "Servant" of God, he became aware of the different shape of his ministry for the future. When the people now longer are "Zebulun" or "Naphtali," but are the "way of the sea" or "Galilee of the nations," they, too, understand themselves differently.

With this new identity, we are ready for the coming of the light, in the next essay.

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