For Unto Us…
A simple handful of words that changed everything
For unto us a child is born; to us a son is given.
If you didn't know better, those words might strike you as something from a birth announcement issued after the fact. The wording's a bit old-fashioned but it kinda sounds like something you'd read in a card sent by two proud new parents, letting their friends and family know about the recent arrival of their new bundle of joy.
Of course, in this case, it wasn't Mom and Dad mailing the good news after returning home from the hospital. It was the Prophet Isaiah, about 700 years before the actual event he was describing.
As a regular lector at my parish, I've had the privilege of reading those words to the congregation at Christmas Mass on several occasions, and I still find myself emotionally moved every time I read or hear them. My first shot at reciting that text in public was in 2012, on my first Christmas after returning from Afghanistan.
In late November, I got the email sent to all of the lectors, notifying us of the reading assignments for each of the Christmas Masses. I spotted my name, the Mass time, and my assigned reading — Christmas Day; Noon; Isaiah 9:1-6.
"Oh, that's nice," I thought to myself. "I like that one."
The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light. Upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom, a light has shown.
For the next several weeks, I went to great effort to commit the entire text to memory. It's not super long, so it wasn't very difficult for me to pretty quickly learn it by heart. Still, I wanted to be sure, so I kept studying it.
I hate to admit it now, but the exercise didn't feel all that different from memorizing a sales presentation for my civilian job. However, I was well aware that I was rehearsing for a more important role; to share some really good news on a really special day.
I left at least one printed-out copy of it on my desk and the Bible on my nightstand was opened to it. I recorded myself reading it and repeatedly listened to it in the car, or while out for a run.
My wife and kids tolerated my pacing around the house, reciting the scripture to myself. I even researched some of the Old Testament mumbo-jumbo that Isaiah writes about.
You have brought them abundant joy and great rejoicing, as they rejoice before you as at the harvest, as people make merry when dividing spoils.
Christmas fell on a Tuesday that year, and I had one last client lunch to do on the previous Thursday. On the way home, I stopped at the dry cleaners to pick up my Marine Corps Dress Blue uniform so that I could start prepping it for Christmas Mass.
I got home, laid the uniform on my bed, and started placing the devices in their assigned positions, reciting Isaiah to myself as I did.
For the yoke that burdened them, the pole upon their shoulder, and the rod of their taskmaster, you have smashed as on the day of Midian.
By the time my wife and I had finished wrapping and staging gifts on Christmas Eve, I could have turned Isaiah 9 into a one-man Broadway show. I knew it frontwards and backwards. If it had been a Daily Double on Jeopardy, I would've bet the ranch.
My family and I arrived at church on Christmas morning a little bit earlier than usual so that I could get myself oriented and take a quick look at the missal (the book of scripture) on the lectern, to ensure it was opened to the correct page, as mine would be the first of the three readings.
But come on, I thought. I don't need notes. I could do this one standing on my head!
Anyway, as I conducted my pre-flight check, my wife and kids sat themselves in the front pew, right in front of where I'd be reading.
I then walked to the rear of the church, where I would begin the procession with the pastor, the altar boys, and my lectoring partner. As I made my way down the aisle, several of my fellow parishioners complimented me on my uniform and thanked me for my service. Even our pastor, Father Tom, told me how great I looked.
I was the man.
Then, showtime. The organist struck up "Oh, Come All Ye Faithful," and the procession began. The other lector and I followed the altar boys carrying the crucifix and the Lectionary, with Father Tom following behind us. As I was clad in full military dress, my gait was, admittedly, a tad more of a proud march than a reverent walk.
When we arrived at the front of the church, my partner and I followed Father Tom's lead, bowed to the sanctuary, and ascended the steps, each of us taking a seat on the left side, beside the lectern.
Father began the Mass by wishing everyone a Merry Christmas, and then conducted the first few elements of the celebration, ending with the opening prayer.
Then he said, "Now, let us listen to the word of God."
That was my cue. I stood and took my place at the lectern. Just for grins, I quickly glanced down at the text in front of me and then confidently announced, "A reading from the book of the Prophet Isaiah."
As I got through the first few lines, I could tell that I was totally crushing it, and could feel the endorphins rewarding me for doing such a stellar job. I was en fuego! My inflections were downright melodic, and my dramatic pauses perfectly timed.
Standing resplendently in my decorated military uniform, I even allowed myself to lean a little bit extra into one particular stanza.
For every boot that tramped in battle, every cloak rolled in blood, will be burned as fuel for flames.
And I thought to myself, "Dude, you totally nailed that. Keep it up!"
I was operating like a well-oiled M-16. I fired one line, and the next one sprang up from the magazine and into the chamber, ready for me to just pull the trigger. So, as I said, "burned as fuel for flames," the following line effortlessly popped into my head, ready to be fired off by my impressively powerful voice.
But then my weapon jammed.
The line appeared in my mind and lingered there, but I simply couldn't utter it.
It wasn't so much that I froze, and I certainly hadn’t forgotten it, only that —for a moment— I couldn't speak. And yeah, I'll admit it, I started to get self-conscious about how bad I must've looked. All decked out in my Dress Blues, a big shot Marine officer who couldn't speak in public or memorize a simple reading for church…on Christmas Day, no less!
It wasn’t as if I was reading, reciting, or hearing the words for the first time, but for some reason, that day, I was newly overwhelmed by them, and I couldn't catch my breath enough to say the next word. I know it was only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity.
Finally, I exhaled and continued, though with unexpected emotion in my voice that I was quite unprepared for.
For unto us a child is born; to us a son is given.
"OMG," I didn't so much as think, but felt. "What you just said is huge!"
I was suddenly and completely floored by the significance of the words I'd just spoken and felt strangely compelled to take a moment to contemplate them right then and there. Fortunately, I thought better of that notion and, after clearing my throat and taking a couple of staccato breaths, I was able to proceed.
Upon his shoulder dominion rests. They name him Wonder-Counselor, God-Hero, Father-Forever, Prince-of-Peace. His dominion is vast and forever peaceful, From David's throne, and over his kingdom, which he confirms and sustains by judgment and justice, both now and forever. The zeal of the Lord of Hosts will do this.
And He has.
At the end of the Mass, I followed Father Tom and the rest of the coterie in retracing our steps to the rear of the church as "Joy to the World" played from the choir loft above. Then I returned to my family, where I found my wife chatting with a couple with whom we were pretty close. As soon as I arrived, our friend, Glee, asked me, "What happened? Did you forget what you were reading?"
"No," I told her. "I just suddenly found myself in awe of it."
I won't delve too deeply into all of the historical context of Isaiah, but there are a few things worth pointing out. You see, there’s an important lead-up to the "great light" that God promises in Chapter 9, which is laid out in the preceding two chapters.
(Stick with me. It’s worth knowing.)
First, in Chapter 7, King Ahaz, the ruler of Judah, is facing certain military disaster but inexplicably rejects the offer of God's assistance that Isaiah presents to him, even as the messenger encourages the king to:
Ask for a sign from the Lord, your God; Let it be as deep as the netherworld or as high as the sky.
However, rather than accept God's blessing, Ahaz instead chooses to enlist the assistance of the pagan king of Assyria. So, God says, essentially, "Okay, if you're not gonna ask for or accept my help, I'll have no choice but to just give it to you."
Therefore the Lord Himself will give you this sign: The virgin will conceive and give birth to a Son, and they will call him Emmanuel, which means, 'God with us.'
Nonetheless, Ahaz and his subjects return to their idolatry, so God cuts them off. And that leads us to Chapter 8, where we find that rather than accept God's blessing, the people have turned to, literally, praying to the dead for help.
"Alright, knuckleheads," God says. "Have it your way."
Then they will look toward the earth and see only distress and darkness and fearful gloom, and they will be thrust into utter darkness.
So there you have the "people who walked in darkness."
But then, at the very beginning of Chapter 9, just two verses later, to those very same people, God makes His promise:
The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light. Upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom, a light has shown.
If you read the Gospel accounts of the birth of Jesus and bounce them against what appears in Isaiah, it all starts to make incredibly perfect sense.
In Luke’s Gospel, we read:
The angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever; his kingdom will never end.”
His dominion is vast and forever peaceful,
Upon David’s throne, and over his kingdom…
“How will this be,” Mary asked the angel, “since I am a virgin?”
The virgin will conceive and give birth to a Son.
The angel answered, “The Holy Spirit will come on you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God.
Matthew writes of the angel’s message to Joseph:
Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take (the virgin) Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.
Matthew even goes to the trouble of pointing the reader back to the prophecy (he does that a lot), saying, "All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet."
The virgin will conceive and give birth to a Son, And they will call him Emmanuel, which means, 'God with us.'
Now, while Isaiah is a great place to start, it's not the only place to find spot-on predictions of the birth of Jesus. For instance, about 300 years before Isaiah, God spoke to King David through the prophet Nathan.
I will raise up your offspring to succeed you (remember, Jesus was born into David’s family tree), your own flesh and blood, and I will establish his kingdom. He is the one who will build a house for my Name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever. I will be his father, and he will be my son.
At roughly the same time that Isaiah was prophesying about the who, what, and why of the story, Micah also spoke of the where.
But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me one who will be ruler over Israel,
whose origins are from of old, from ancient times.
And then, about 100 years later, Jeremiah wrote:
Behold, the days are coming, says the Lord, when I will raise up a righteous branch from the line of David.
He will reign as king and rule wisely and ensure justice and righteousness in the land.In his days Judah will live in safety, and Israel will dwell in security.
And this is the name that will be given to him: “The Lord Our Righteousness.”
Twelve years ago today, I was so struck by the impact of how these scriptures all perfectly fit together that I was literally rendered speechless.
David's kingdom, Bethlehem, messages from angels, the Virgin Birth…all of it. I was awed by it that day because it's awesome!
I've been a believer my whole life, so none of this was really news to me, but on Christmas Day 2012, I received a special gift, a new understanding and visceral appreciation of God's promise to all of us. He didn't start loving the world 2025 years ago. He’s been promising His eternal love from the get-go.
Then, on that night in Bethlehem, He showed us just how much that love means to Him.
For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. - John 3:16
Brian O'Leary is a retired Marine Corps colonel, who served for 30 years, including combat deployments to Somalia and Iraq, and command of an infantry battalion in Afghanistan. Additionally, he has spent 25 years in the financial services industry. Brian earned his BA in English from Penn State University and his MA in National Security Studies from the US Army War College.
IG - @brian_oleary34 X - @brianoleary34