He Will Reign Forever: Mary’s Child And David’s Covenant

November 9, 2025 Sermon: He Will Reign Forever: Mary’s Child and David’s Covenant

We are starting a short, three-week series today that’s going to look closely at indicators or hints in the Old Testament about the promise of the coming deliverer of Israel, the coming King, the coming Messiah.

So this is about messianic prophecy, a heads-up about a better tomorrow, a series of strong hints about a better future that was to come, located in the ancient text of the Hebrew Bible.

Even in the earliest pages of Scripture, God was already whispering the name of His Son; history itself is written in the ink of promise. These ancient prophecies don’t just tell Israel’s story—they tell ours. They remind us that history isn’t random; it’s guided by promise.

Each prophecy is like a thread of gold running through human failure, proof that God’s plan never panics or pivots; it proceeds. Time’s tight this morning after our memorial for Gracie, so today’s message will be concise—but rich. Think of it as a highlight reel of God’s promises.

If you’re going to want to dive deeper, if your interest is aroused, I would encourage you to join the Bible study that is happening after the service to get deeper into the material.

The birth of Jesus was so momentous that all of human history now measures time in relation to it.

So, if you shout out the year you were born—like I was born in 1962—that means you and I were born that many years after the Messiah’s birth.

Our very lives are dated by the Incarnation.

Every calendar, every clock, every sunrise still bears silent witness that God entered time; eternity took up residence in the ordinary.

At the very least that should tell you that there is something very special about the birth of Jesus.

When starting something like this, it’s always good to begin at the beginning.

Does anybody want to take a guess at what is the first Messianic prophecy in the Old Testament?

I. The Promise in the Beginning — The Seed Who Will Crush the Serpent

In Genesis 3:1–14, we have the account known as the Fall of Humankind. The serpent tempts Eve to eat from the forbidden tree. By the way, it never says “apple”—just fruit. Sorry, Apple iPhone Inc.

Eve eats the fruit and gives some to Adam, and they realize they are naked and hide from God.

When God confronts them, they each shift blame: Adam blames Eve, Eve blames the serpent, and the serpent doesn’t have a leg to stand on.

As a result, God pronounces consequences on the serpent, on Eve, and on Adam. That’s the essence of those verses.

Here we learn that rebellion always carries fallout, but mercy still sprouts in the cracks of judgment; the curse cannot choke divine compassion.

Then we have: Genesis 3:14 So the LORD God said to the serpent, “Because you have done this, ‘Cursed are you above all livestock and all wild animals! You will crawl on your belly and you will eat dust all the days of your life. 15 And I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; HE WILL CRUSH YOUR HEAD, AND YOU WILL STRIKE HIS HEEL.’”

This is called the protoevangelium or the first gospel, the first sign of good news after the very bad news of the Fall.

This is delivered quickly… too quickly for despair to set in and completely overwhelm our first parents, Adam and Eve. God promises a deliverer born of a woman who will crush evil.

Right at the scene of the crime, grace appears holding a future in its hands—God announcing rescue before Adam can even explain himself.

What does this say to us? What’s a good takeaway? Even in judgment, God plants hope—the seed of redemption begins here. Actions have consequences. If I drop this cup, what will happen? It will smash and make a mess.

Is there any chance that won’t happen? No, unless one of you leaps up to catch it before it hits the ground. Shall we try that? Maybe not. Adam and Eve’s action of falling for the temptation, of succumbing to the words of the serpent, happened because it appealed to their pride to “be like God.”

Of course this was an attempt to bend the fabric of reality, to twist what is true, to live a lie. God, who does not want His creation live a lie, responds with justice—but also mercy. Even as He pronounces judgment, He plants hope.

Hope is the green shoot of Eden that keeps breaking through concrete centuries later in Bethlehem’s soil.

The conflict between the serpent and the seed points toward a future child, not just an idea. And this hope is not a philosophy, it's not an idea, it's not a program.