Summary: God’s own Redeemer comes to ransom his people.

Scripture Introduction

The church has marked the Sundays preceding Jesus’ birthday since at least the 5th century. We usually call this the Advent season, because advent means “arrival, especially of something important.” During advent, we prepare for the birth of the Christ, but also for his second coming. Just as we prepare for the appearance of any dignitary, the people of God traditionally have set aside these weeks for confession, repentance, and spiritual evaluation to prepare for the coming of Jesus. God arriving as the child of Mary has magnificent theological implications that should affect us greatly.

But the Christmas season seems to be everything except penitential preparation for the birth of Messiah. Christmas is about office parties and hope for the year’s commercial success.

A few years ago, walking through a shopping mall, I saw everywhere of the removal of Christ from Christmas. Instead of “Merry Christmas,” the signs read, “Happy Holidays.” Instead of a Crèche, there was Santa and his reindeer. Instead of humble preparation there was raucous celebration.

But all the while, music played over the public speakers. Between the screams of children wanting just that computer game, and the chimes of the cash registers, I could faintly hear Christmas carols. Songs loved by so many; songs with profound meaning and Biblical theology.

So that is the idea for this series. What are the words of our favorite Christmas hymns? Where do they come from? How might these great hymns increase our appreciation for the birth of God? “Advent in the prophets and carols,” as we prepare for the coming of the Christ. Today, Isaiah 59.15b-21, and the hymn, “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel.”

[Read Isaiah 59.15b-21. Pray.]

Introduction

The Jewish people spent many days in exile. But God promised, especially through the prophet Isaiah, that one day the captivity would end and the people would return, led my Messiah.

Isaiah 49.8-11: Thus says the LORD: “In a time of favor I have answered you; in a day of salvation I have helped you; I will keep you and give you as a covenant to the people…, saying to the prisoners, ‘Come out,’ to those who are in darkness, ‘Appear.’ They shall feed along the ways; on all bare heights shall be their pasture; they shall not hunger or thirst…. And I will make all my mountains a road, and my highways shall be raised up.”

Isaiah 61.1-2: The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me, because the LORD has anointed me to bring good news to the poor; he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor.

Isaiah preached freedom from captivity, and Israel needed it. In 586 BC, Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon overthrew Jerusalem, and the last of the deportations begun in 605 BC were complete. Israel was exiled.

Eventually, however, God restored some freedoms. Cyrus allowed the Jews to return and rebuild the temple, which they rededicated in 516 BC, 70 years after the exile.

But even this was not complete freedom. Soon the Greek empire, led by Antiochus Epiphanes, took over Jerusalem. He even set up a statue of Zeus in the temple and sacrificed pigs to it, fulfilling the prophecy in Daniel.

But then some Jews, led by Judas Maccabeus, revolted and retook Jerusalem, re-rededicating the temple in 164. From this victory comes the festival of lights (Hanukkah in the Jewish calendar). In one of the traditional prayers you can hear the theme of freedom: “We light these lights for the miracles and the wonders, for the redemption and the battles that you made for our forefathers, in those days at this season, through your holy priests. During all eight days of Hanukkah these lights are sacred, and we are not permitted to make ordinary use of them except for to look at them in order to express thanks and praise to Your great Name for Your miracles, Your wonders and Your salvations” (the hymn, Hanerot Halalu, from the Ashkenazic communities).

But even with their zeal, the Maccabeans could not resist Rome. In 63 BC, Pompey took Jerusalem. And in 37 BC, Caesar made Herod, a proselyte to Judaism, King of Judea. Once again, Israel was ruled by another.

Now because of these repeated and continuing captivities, three things seemed true of Jewish folk at Jesus’ birth:

• First, they seemed to know they were enslaved. Roman authority was everywhere evident, and their culture was based, in part, on a history of exile.

• Second, they seemed to know the words of Isaiah, God’s promise of freedom.

• Third, they seemed to want freedom.

Together these should make Israel eager to receive Messiah. How strange, then, that they reject Jesus – the one of whom we sing, “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel. And ransom captive Israel.”

Fiddler On The Roof depicts Jewish people persecuted during the communist revolution in the early 1900s. In the last scene, the fiddler plays his traditional song while the Jews again trudge into exile. When I hear this Christmas carol, I picture the fiddler playing while people march. “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel. And ransom captive Israel. That mourns in lonely exile here, until the son of God appear. Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel!”

But they did not rejoice; they rejected the Redeemer. Why? The answer is found in the birth of Jesus as it was predicted by Isaiah and sung in our hymn.

Isaiah 59 tells us that God was aware of Israel’s condition: “The Lord saw it, and it displeased him that there was no justice.” In fact, God expresses amazement that no one fights for justice or defends the helpless: “he wondered that there was no one to intercede.” So he himself intervened: “his own arm brought him salvation.” God puts on righteousness and salvation, vengeance and zeal, and fights against injustice and transgression. God’s judgment floods the land, causing men in both the west and the east to see his power and fear his name.

But for Israel, “a Redeemer will come to Zion, to those who turn from transgression.” And with him, a new covenant, one with the fullness of Spirit and the power of the Word. And this new covenant would be passed on from generation to generation, forever. Paul quotes Isaiah 59 when he explains in Romans 11 that the promise is Jesus, the Savior of all mankind.

So why does Israel reject her Redeemer? Two truths I would bring to our attention.

1. We Must Admit Our Captivity

The Jews could see Rome’s rule, but a more significant captivity controlled them, one they did not know or would not admit: they were slaves to sin. Earlier in the worship service we read the first half of Isaiah 59. In those verses, God said:

• The Lord’s hand is not too short to save. God is not the problem; your iniquities are

• Your sins hide God’s face and block his ears

• The blood of the poor and weak are on your hands

• You lie and steal and cheat for your own benefit

• Justice and righteousness and peace are far from you

It is a foul picture, and God says, this is the captivity that should concern Israel, not the problems with government. Yes, a Redeemer will come, and has come, Jesus, the Christ, but not for political freedom. He did a greater work, as Matthew 1.21 explains: “She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” Here is the redemption we need and God supplies.

But that was just about too much for a good Jew to stomach. Please do not misunderstand. The Jewish people did not think themselves perfect. Just like many who believe in Jesus and come to church for Christmas, the Jews knew they needed some grace. They did not presume the righteousness of God as their own.

But they did insist that they were Jewish, and that made them better than everyone else. Better than the Gentiles and pagans, better than adulterers and murderers, better than Romans and thieves. And there is the problem: Messiah came to release the wretched; but no good Jew is that. We need a ticket to get on the boat, and this ticket is the admission that we are poor and needy, broken and desperate, wicked and wretched.

You hear it in the third verse we sang: “O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free thine own from Satan’s tyranny; from depths of hell thy people save, and give them vict’ry o’er the grave.”

Did you hear that? “From the depths of hell”? What kind of Christmas carol is that? That’s not jolly and merry; that’s somber and serious. Christmas fills churches with “good people” – surely you do not believe that any one here needs saving from the depths of hell!

Instead, in a haunting parallel to the Jews of Jesus’ day, many who like this song do not believe the words. Few admit their wretched condition and spiritual captivity. Few believe that unless God Redeems, there is no hope. Yes – most say, “I’m not perfect”; and with the next breath, “But I’m basically good.” And why would a good person need a baby born to be crushed by God for their iniquities”?

A 16th century Christmas carol:

Remember Adam’s fall, O thou man, O thou man,

Remember Adam’s fall, from heaven to hell!

Remember Adam’s fall, how we were condemned all

In hell perpetual, there for to dwell.

Remember God’s goodnesse, O thou man, O thou man,

Remember God’s goodnesse, And his promise made!

Remember God’s goodnesse, How he sent his Sonne, doubtlesse,

Our sinnes for to redresse: Be not afraid!

Are you basically good, or do you welcome a Redeemer who rescues you from a well-earned hell of your own free choice? God sent his son, doubtless, our sins for to redress, our captivity to break. Advent asks: “Will we worship God become a helpless baby because we are completely helpless?”

We cannot be saved until we admit our true captivity.

2. We Must Desire God’s Freedom

Many would look at the Jews of Jesus’ day and think: of course, they want to be free. Thousands died rebelling against the Greeks. Many longed for Messiah. There were times when Jesus ran from the crowd because they so badly wanted to make him King. Of course they desired freedom.

But did they want the freedom Emmanuel offers? Freedom from thinking they were good enough to meet with God. Freedom from feeling a relationship with God was based on their being born as Jews. Freedom from idea that God loves them because they are better than others — because they tithe and obey the Sabbath and pray daily and never murder or commit adultery. Freedom from pride and looking down on others; freedom from being special because they are persecuted; freedom from self-righteousness and selfishness.

Freedom from the thought that God likes me if I drop some coins in the Salvation Army kettle. Freedom from having to measure up to someone’s standard. Freedom from depending on your baptism or your church attendance or your Bible reading or your prayers to stay God’s hand of judgment. Freedom from the worry that your sin might have just crossed the line and become too much for God to forgive.

For some, Emmanuel’s freedom is good news and cause for rejoicing. Others, however, may not want that freedom.

What about you? Do you want God to like you more when you drop a ten-spot in the kettle or a $100 bill in the plate? Do you want, at least in part, a relationship with God based on your effort, because you do not want all that good effort to go to waste?

You spent yourself in Bible study and small groups and church services and committee meetings and singing in the choir and teaching Sunday School and raising your children perfectly and volunteering incessantly. You have done good works. You have prayed the sinner’s prayer, been baptized in the water, and invited Jesus into your heart. You have stayed in Reformed churches. Maybe you deserve some credit! We probably do not say it that way, but when you are honest with your own soul and alone with God, do you feel God likes you more when you “perform”?

What if Emmanuel offers freedom from all works as payment for his pleasure? What if God himself ransomed his people from captivity? What if knowing God depends on his free grace? What if knowing God “depends not on human exertion but on God who has mercy” (Romans 9.16)?

Honestly, if that is the freedom offered, many might reject Emmanuel. Some want freedom, but only with a condition: they get to hold God captive to their preferences. Is it possible that we would have to give up too much to receive the freedom God offers? Give up feeling sorry for myself. Give up anxiety over tomorrow. Give up thinking of reasons God must answer our prayers. Freedom from sin and self cedes sovereignty to God, and that is frightening!

3. Conclusion

If God is free, then he has the right to move me out of my comfort zone. But when he does, I find that my love for God wanes, because I want to be in charge. I am fickle.

But Emmanuel has ransomed captive Israel. Now I can be truly free. Free from fear of condemnation, and free from worrying that I must please him to keep him on my side. Free, instead, to enjoy God today and forever.

Have you experienced Biblical freedom? You can today. Believe that Emmanuel came to free you from sin and misery!