And their work will no longer be "for nothing," but will be blessed just as all of their descendants will be (Is. 65:23). And in the new cosmos, YHWH will answer the people even before they call out, responding to them in the very midst of their speaking (Is. 65:24). To conclude these vast promises, the prophet borrows the words of an earlier Isaianic colleague: "The wolf and the lamb shall feed together, and the lion shall eat straw like the ox, while the snake—its food will be dust" (Is. 65:25 and see Is. 11:6-9)! As in Genesis 3:14, the fear of the snake will be removed, since its meal will consist of dust, rather than humans or animals. Indeed, "they (the snakes?) shall not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain" (Is. 65:25c). So ends this prophet's description of the transformed sky and earth.
This new cosmos is both like and unlike the one we know. We recognize the people and the animals, the cycles of birth and death, the future joy amid the current bouts of oppression and sorrow. How easy it is to romanticize all this at the Christmas season! The babe of Bethlehem in his sanitized manger bed (or candle-lit cave, depending on the version you choose) comes into the world, heralded by angels, attended by shepherds, illuminated by a magic star, and worshipped by wise men with rich gifts, wrapped sumptuously no doubt in gold tinsel and blue satin ribbon, tied up in perfect bows. But romance is far from Isaiah's mind in chapter 65. The cosmos needs a transformation, from top to bottom, from people to animals, from hills to valleys, and God is in that business.
Well, I really did not mean to sound like Scrooge, but perhaps I have after all. I really do hope your Christmas is "merry and bright," but I hope you can remind your congregation that what we want for Christmas is a transformed cosmos, rather than another transformer toy. I trust you will say that; I pray that you will say that.
Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In