Words of Reflection
In the 63rd chapter of Isaiah, the prophet reflects on God’s actions on behalf of his people and their stubborn rebellion even in the face of his faithfulness. He looks out and sees the people suffering from their own self-destructive choices, and he pleads with God to do something radical in the face of their selfishness and failure. His cry reaches a dramatic and climactic point at the beginning of chapter 64:
“O that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake at your presence—as when fire kindles brushwood and the fire causes water to boil—to make your name known to your adversaries, so that the nations might tremble at your presence!”—Isaiah 64:1-3 (NRSVUE)
Isaiah has in mind a terrifying revelation of God that would strike fear into Israel’s enemies and echo the “awesome deeds” of old, like the days of Moses and Joshua. He wants to see God "tear the heavens open” and come as a mighty warrior to smite the wicked and cause the very foundations of the earth to shake. It’s an awe-inspiring image.
But even though it didn’t take place exactly as the prophet envisioned, the basic thrust of what Isaiah wanted to see is exactly what happened—God did, in fact, “tear the heavens open and come down.” The mountains may not have quaked, the nations may not have (yet) trembled, but the cosmic impact of what took place on that first Christmas morn was beyond measure. Heaven came to earth, the power of creation’s author was found in a tiny child, and (as songwriter Michael Card puts it) “eternity stepped into time.” The true scope of what took place at the incarnation is far too vast for any human mind to comprehend, and yet during the Advent season we are invited to dwell in the wonder and mystery of it all the same.
We are also invited, I think, to make Isaiah’s prayer our own as part of our Advent journey. “O that you would tear the heavens open and come down” is still the cry of our heart during these particularly chaotic times. Every concern we bring to God is a plea for God to be known in the midst of it, for a fresh revelation of his supernatural power and peace to be manifest in difficult and painful situations. Even as we ponder the Incarnation, we ask God to be made real anew in our world through the power of his Spirit and the ministry of his people.
The ancient carol “Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence” invites us to do both of these things—to sit with the glory of the Incarnation as we “ponder nothing earthly minded,” and to join our voice with Isaiah’s in a plea for God to intercede where evil still has the upper hand “that the powers of hell may vanish as the darkness clears away.”
And through it all we join the ceaseless chorus in a cry of worship: “Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia God Most High!”
Amen.
Scripture for Meditation:
“From ages past no one has heard, no ear has perceived,
no eye has seen any God besides you, who works for those who wait for him.”—Isaiah 64:4 (NRSVUE)
“For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross." —Colossians 1:19-20 (NRSVUE)
Song: Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence (lyrics here)
Questions for Contemplation:
As we hear the carol’s invitation to “ponder nothing earthly minded,” what does that mean for you personally? How do you find ways to set aside the concerns of the day in order to simply sit with the mystery and wonder of the Incarnation? If you find it a struggle, ask God to reveal to you ways of quieting yourself before the manger. The Spirit is faithful to guide us in our desire for time with him.
Into what particular situations are you asking God to “tear open the heavens and come down” right now? Sit for a moment of intercession and ask God to help you offer these concerns with confidence and assurance in his goodness and faithfulness.
“Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence” was originally a Eucharistic hymn that has since transitioned to an Advent/Christmas carol. This is particularly noticeable in the line “He will give to all the faithful his own self for heav’nly food.” How might a celebration of Communion be particularly powerful for us during Advent? How has it spoken to you in the past about the depth of God’s love for you?