Belmont University Advent GuidePrimjer

Isaiah 10 recognizes an enormous problem with the way the book has characterized world events up to this point. The previous chapter presents the eighth century Assyrian invasion that devastated Israel and much of Judah as divine punishment for the sign of “pride and arrogance” (9.8). How does it make sense, though, for an enormous empire to destroy these tiny nations for a sin that is so characteristic of empires? The divine voice in Isaiah 10.5 claims a military alliance with Assyria:

"Ah, Assyria, the rod of my anger—the club in their hands is my fury."

The idea that God would use the powerful to punish the weak is shocking, particularly in a season in which we like to celebrate the reversal of power, the downfall of the mighty and the lifting up of the oppressed. The only other option for a defeated ancient Israel was to claim that their God was still on their side, but they were destroyed anyway, but this move would have produced a weak God who would never have the power to save them. So, weighing the theological costs, they chose to believe their God had turned against them and fought for their enemies, but would someday turn and attack those enemies in an act of revenge on their behalf.

It would be comforting to think that our modern understanding of geo-politics places us beyond the need to consider such theological bargains, yet our language is still sprinkled with their implications. We desire a world divinely controlled, and for our benefit. As we approach this Advent, there is an uneasiness about the world. Despite statistics that tell us the world is safer than it has ever been, the horrors of violence are on vivid display for us every day.

We can say with the singer of Psalm 40, “I delight to do your will O my God” (v. 81), but it seems too hard to know what that is. The other day, amidst all the heated political rhetoric, a little boy read his letter to the president about another little boy injured in the Syrian conflict. “We will be a family and he will be our brother.” This child’s expression of love and acceptance asks no guarantees of safety and does not seek to make any deals. He opens his arms and welcomes the world, bloody, dirty, and afraid.

Mark McEntire
Professor of Biblical Studies