A Great Light Shines into the World’s Darkness—Lectionary Reflection for Epiphany 3A (Isaiah 9)



Isaiah 9:1-4 New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition

9 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.

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.
You have multiplied exultation;
    you have increased its joy;
they rejoice before you
    as with joy at the harvest,
    as people exult when dividing plunder.
For the yoke of their burden
    and the bar across their shoulders,
    the rod of their oppressor,
    you have broken as on the day of Midian.

*********

                We continue the journey through the season of Epiphany, a season that emphasizes the promise of light shining into the darkness. The season begins with the magi following a start to the home of the one who is said to be the Messiah of Israel. That Gentile religious leaders (Zoroastrian priests?) venerate the Christ child, presenting to him gifts worthy of a prince, suggests that the light of God has universal properties (Matt. 2:1-12). God is not only the God of Israel, but as Creator of all, God is the God of all people. In this season we recognize the nature of this light that is embodied by Jesus. From there the theme of light shining in the darkness continues to be present.

                The word revealed here in Isaiah offers a word of hope to people experiencing a period of gloom as the nation of Judah is caught up in a war with its northern neighbors Syria and Israel (around 734 BCE). This is likely a word shared with the reigning king, Ahaz, father of Hezekiah. The reading for the Third Sunday of Epiphany in Year A ends with verse four of chapter nine. If we read through verse seven, we will hear a word of promise concerning the birth of a child, on whose shoulders authority will rest. He will be named “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace” (Is. 9:6). This is a word we often hear at Advent/Christmas applied to Jesus. While these titles seem fitting for Jesus, they were originally intended to denote the identity of Ahaz’s son Hezekiah. His birth is that word of hope the people need to hear in their moments of anguish. I bring that word to our attention, even though it’s not part of this particular lectionary reading because it does highlight the identity of the light that will shine in the darkness.

                We’ll take note of the larger lectionary context for the Third Sunday of Advent later (the reference here to the Galilee of the Nations in verse 1). At this point in my reflection, I want to take note of the message revealed in verse 2, where the prophet announces that “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.” Judah lived in a moment of uncertainty, a season of war that undermined their confidence in themselves and in the God they served. Thus, a word of encouragement comes their way.

                As we ponder this word from Isaiah 9, we may live with a similar sense of gloom. COVID has yet to disappear (if it ever does disappear). The political realm in the United States and other western countries is one of disarray and polarization. There is a war in Ukraine that has had an impact elsewhere. There’s violence and poverty in less developed countries, along with political repression, that has led to increased migration, placing stress on receiving nations. There is a resurgence of racial/ethnic/religious prejudice and violence. Questions concerning the current and future impact of climate change continue to surface. So, it’s no surprise that many wonder if there is hope for the future. Such questions appear even more acute among the younger generations. In other words, Isaiah’s “yoke of their burden” seems to be weighing down on us as well as the original audience.

                As we ponder this message of hope, that promises the yoke and rod of the oppressor are broken, it’s appropriate to note that the Third Sunday of Epiphany generally falls near the date the United States observes the birthday of Martin Luther King, Jr. Dr. King was a modern-day prophet, whose light many sought to extinguish, and one man sought to quench the light permanently by assassinating him. Nevertheless, the light Dr. King sought to shine into the darkness of his day continues to shine. He dreamed that the nation would someday truly live out the promise of its founding, where all men, even all people, might one day be acknowledged as being truly equal. Darkness might still be hovering over us, but the prophets, old and new, promise that light will shine in the darkness, dispelling the gloom that seeks to envelop us.

                As I noted earlier in this reflection, as we read beyond verse four, we encounter this word from Isaiah concerning the birth of the child upon whose shoulders the government will rest. It is, as noted, a word we generally hear at Christmas, but perhaps we will be well served to push beyond verse four so we can take note of the one, whose birth, serves as the light that shines in the darkness. From there, we can move to reflect on how this word helps us understand the person and mission of Jesus, who is understood to be that light. At least that is the message that the Gospel of Matthew reveals to us. If we turn to Matthew 4, which offers us the accompanying Gospel reading for the day, we see how Matthew makes the connection between Isaiah 9:1-2 and the ministry of Jesus. There in the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus, having been baptized by John, is the light that shines in the darkness. This light is revealed in Jesus’ message of repentance for the “kingdom of heaven has come near” (Matt.4:12-17). It is a message that he preaches in Galilee of the Gentiles (nations). The larger reading from Matthew 4, speaks of Jesus building a team to assist him in that work (Matt. 4:18-23).

                If we’re to understand the message that Matthew offers us, then we must first hear what Isaiah spoke to his own people who lived during the reign of King Ahaz, when the Assyrian Empire was knocking on the door of Judah and its neighbors. Light will shine in the darkness. That’s the promise made to Judah’s king and its people. Indeed, the message is clear. Yahweh will break the yoke or the rod of the oppressor. It might be worth noting that verse five, which isn’t included in the lectionary reading for the day, speaks of the destruction of the tools of war, of the boots and garments of the warriors, which are wrapped in blood. These tools of war will be burned. There is something here that speaks of not only the end of a particular set of battles but war itself. Such a vision is one of joy to behold. It might seem far-fetched, as we have yet to find a way to end wars. World War I was supposed to be the war that ended all wars, but two decades later an even more devastating war was underway. In the aftermath of that war, the nations tried to create a new body (the United Nations) that would resolve conflicts, but war broke out almost immediately. Such is the situation to this day. Yet, we live in hope that one day this promise will be fulfilled. Isaiah hoped that the child born who might be the future king would be the solution. That was not to be, but the promise continues to shine a light into our sense of darkness.

                When Matthew takes up this promise, he does so in the context of Jesus’ entrance into ministry. Having been baptized in the Jordan, after the death of John, Jesus retreats to Galilee, to the land around the sea, in the region of Zebulun and Naphtali. The promise here is that Jesus is that light shining in the darkness. He is the one who will break the yoke, the rod of the oppressor, which binds us.

                So, what is it that binds us? What is the yoke that sits on our shoulders? What is the darkness that envelops us, but that God’s light shines into, illuminating the way forward? Things might seem problematic, but the mood we encounter in Isaiah 9 is one of celebration. It exudes trust in God, even if the events of the day don’t seem very promising. It is good to remember the connection made between the word from Isaiah and that found in Matthew. While Isaiah’s Judah was caught up in a war with its northern neighbors and a rising Assyria was knocking on its door, Isaiah wrote to a community that lived under the heavy hand of Rome. In fact, by the time this Gospel was written, Jerusalem and its Temple had been destroyed, its people scattered, and yet here is a word of hope. Whether it’s Assyria or Rome or the United States, these imperial entities don’t have the last word.

                We must remember that Jesus did not presume that a human government, not even one overseen by one of his followers, would provide true hope. That is not to say that human governments have no place as protectors of human rights and the rights of creation as a whole. It doesn’t mean that the right to vote isn’t sacred (at least I think so). It is just that if we place our faith in political partisans, we will be disappointed. Even as I believe that the gospel speaks of social justice, I also believe that justice is not ultimately in legislative hands. As always it is rooted in the hearts of the people. It’s to our hearts that Jesus speaks, inviting us to embrace his kingdom so that we might pursue truth and justice for all.

                This reading is an appropriate one for the Third Sunday of Epiphany, especially in this particular decade. It offers a word of hope. In fact, as verse three declares, God has increased the joy of the people, who “rejoice before you as with joy at the harvest, as people exult when dividing plunder” (Is. 9:3). While, as John Holbert suggests, it’s easy to become cynical about this promise as wars, unrest, and suffering continue unabated. Nevertheless, “Christians who look always for the light of God in the darkness can never become cynical because we trust in the God who always is bringing light.” Indeed:

However dim that light appears to be at times, we are convinced that that light can never be overcome by darkness. John’s unforgettable Gospel says that with beauty and clarity: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it” (John 1:5). Despite the horrors of the crucifixion, the ultimate scene of darkness, the promise of the resurrection is the light of God that can never be overcome. The light of God again and again breaks into whatever darkness we create, or is created by others, or appears naturally in our world. That is the central and basic power of the gospel. Isaiah knew that power in his time, and we must grasp that power in ours. [John Holbert, “Isaiah 9:1-4, Commentary 2,” Connections, WJK Press, Kindle Edition].

As we gather in what is for many of my readers the midst of winter, when darkness is a prominent feature of the moment, both literally and metaphorically, may we attend to this promise, that joy might be ours as we embrace the one who brings light into our midst. 

Wesley, Frank, 1923-2002. New Wine in Old Wineskins, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=59180 [retrieved January 13, 2023]. Original source: Estate of Frank Wesley, http://www.frankwesleyart.com/main_page.htm.


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