“Comfort, Comfort  My People”

Back to: Handel’s Messiah, Prophecy and Birth of the Messiah

Who is the Messiah ?

In those ancient days, kings were not crowned when they assumed office. Rather, a priest would take a ram’s horn filled with olive oil and pour it over the head of the one who had been chosen to lead. This was anointing, and the king was thus the Anointed One — as he is often called in the Old Testament. In Hebrew, the Anointed One is meshiach, which comes over into English as “Messiah.” The Greek equivalent to this is christos, or Christ.

The first of these anointed kings was actually Saul (1079 BC). But beginning a new dynasty, David followed him (1011 BC-1005 BC). Then came Davids son and successor Solomon (died 931 BC). On Solomon’s death, the kingdom split in two (930BC ruler was Solomon’s son Rehoboam), as the northern tribes revolted against the house of David and set up their own kingdom in the north. Somewhat confusingly, this is known as Israel. In the south the line of David ruled over the kingdom of Judah, with its capital in David’s city, Jerusalem.

In the Old Testament the word meshiach is used only of Saul, David, Solomon, and the kings of Judah, except for one place in which Cyrus of Persia is referred to figuratively as God’s anointed. The Israelite kingship is thus the matrix out of which was to grow the hope of Israel for its true messiah.

Jesus is, of course, the messiah whom Handel’s oratorio concerns. Yet in the whole performance of the music we will never hear his name and we will never hear his voice. The text will tell us of the promise of Messiah, the coming of Messiah, the ministry of Messiah, the suffering, death, and resurrection of Messiah, and of his exaltation and eternal reign. But it will all be told by indirection. We will not hear his teaching in the Sermon on the Mount, we will not hear the seven last words from the cross, and we will not be told the story of the. empty tomb. Scripture will be used to tell the story in ways that point beyond the immediate meaning of the texts chosen.

#1 Setting the Scene

Under David and Solomon the kingdom of Israel enjoyed a sort of golden age

David wished to build a temple for God. But through the prophet Nathan, God told David that he was not to build God a house. Rather, God would build David a house — a dynasty of kings — that would rule from Zion forever.

Mighty David! Long after his death, as the line of his descendants held sway over Judah, he was remembered as the ideal king, and the patriotic protocols of the kingdom called for whatever king sat on the throne to be honored as would be David himself Some of the Psalms — Psalms 2, 20, 21, 45, 72, no — sing the praises of the king, God’s Anointed One. Psalm 72 sounds very much like a prayer at the inauguration of an American president, calling on God for the success, wisdom, and justice of the king, that the Anointed One might rule over a nation at peace, over a prosperous people. At times the prophets also would speak of the king in terms reminiscent of David.

Soon after Solomon’s death, however, the kingdom split apart over issues of who would rule and how. The larger kingdom to the north retained the name of Israel but crowned a king from out­side the line of David. The smaller southern kingdom took the name of Judah and retained both the Davidic line of kings and the capital city of Jerusalem.

In 721 B.C.E., the northern kingdom fell to the Assyrians, the dominant power of the day. In accordance with a sinister Assyrian policy designed to discourage subsequent uprisings, the inhabitants of Israel were deported, and other conquered peoples were brought in to colonize their land. This, by the way, was the origin of the Samaritans who, as their descendants, remained the target of the covenant people’s resentment even in Jesus’ day (see Luke 10:29-37 and John 4:9). Read the story of these events in 2 Kings 17.

2 Kings 17

The southern kingdom of Judah narrowly escaped the onslaught of the Assyrians. The story of what was broadly interpreted as their miraculous rescue under King Hezekiah is preserved for us in 2 Kings 18 and 19.

The Southern Kingdom (Judah) survived the Assyrian invasions, largely because of the godly Hezekiah (2 Kings 18-19) who responded to the warnings of Isaiah. Yet, as the years went by the people did not really change

2 Kings 18 and 19

See also Isaiah 36 and 37.

Isaiah 36 and 37

Many people believed that the reason Judah had survived was because its capital city, Jerusalem, was both the site of the Temple and the seat of the Davidic monarchy. God, they reasoned, would never allow these two institutions to be destroyed. For an example of this line of reasoning, read 2 Kings 19:32-34. Commentators refer to this view as “Jerusalem theology,” and it remained a powerful influence in Judah for more than a century.

Ultimately, however, the city of Jerusalem proved to be an ineffective charm against dis­aster. In the year 587 B.C.E. the kingdom of Judah fell to the new world power, Babylon. Following the lead of its Assyrian predecessor, Babylon carted Judah’s leading citizens and their families into captivity. Solomon’s Temple, in which the people had put such unshak­able trust, lay in ruins.

#2 Prophetic Perspectives

But beginning in the eighth century before Christ, when we first begin to pick up their words, the message of the prophets is somber, laden with a burden of impending doom. These seers — Amos, Hosea, Isaiah, Micah, the young Jeremiah — were not peering across centuries to see what would come about long after their own time. Their inspired prophetic insight consisted in the gift of perceiving divine action in their own time. When they predicted the future, as sometimes they did, it was a relatively near future. There was a kind of prophetic syllogism. They made an observation about their historical circumstances: Gods people are sinful. Then they interpreted that observation in the light of what they believed about the nature of God: God punishes sin. From this they drew a conclusion: God will punish his people. Whether the agent of that punishment would be Egypt or Assyria or Babylonia ultimately did not matter. God would act in history and use historical forces to bring on his own people just punishment for their sin.

The Bible preserves the words of several prophets who spoke and wrote during this tumultuous period. The first 39 chapters of Isaiah, for instance, were spoken by one “Isaiah of Jerusalem” during the years just before and after the fall of the northern kingdom. Not surprisingly, the political situation of the day had a distinct effect on both the tone and the con­tent of his prophecies. With the lion of Assyria looming menacingly in the north, Isaiah of Jerusalem sought to wake his people up … to shake them out of their complacency and insincerity. Most of his prophecies were calculated to convict people of their sin and thus, hopefully, avoid disaster. He was especially critical of religion that is all form and no sub­stance, going through the motions of piety without paying the slightest attention to the social injustices which surround it. 

Isaiah 1:21-23

Isaiah 1:24-31

#3 Breaking the Silence

For Isaiah and his followers, the silence lasted for 48 years-48 years before they could muster so much as a word. And then, suddenly, out across the desert of their disillusion­ment comes Isaiah 40. 

Psalm 137

1 By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept   when we remembered Zion.

2 There on the poplars we hung our harps,

3 for there our captors asked us for songs,

our tormentors demanded songs of joy;

they said, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”

4 How can we sing the songs of the Lord while in a foreign land?

Psalm 137 is clearly speaking about the exile, coming either from the very time of captivity in Babylon, or shortly after. The pain of the experience of exile in Babylon is not forgotten; it is very sharp indeed. We feel the pain of the psalmist through the words of the song.

The psalmist remembers the distress of that experience (vv. 1-6). It was a time of tears (v. 1). Musical instruments, things that provide entertainment as well as connecting a people with their past and ancestors, were hung up, not to be used in that context. This is both a sign of despair as well as an indication that such captivity raises questions about one’s identity and tradition. Songs of Zion, songs of faith and of the places that are at the core of the national identity, seem out of place in the context of captivity. Moreover, their captors taunt them asking for the very things that cannot be said or sung (v. 3).

Central to the psalm is the question in v. 4: ‘How can we sing Yahweh’s song in a foreign land’. The psalmist would rather suffer disability than forget Jerusalem. The use of the word ‘foreign’ carries with it a couple of implications. Clearly it underlines for the psalmist the inappropriateness of singing songs of Zion in captivity. Songs of Zion belong, or recall, Jerusalem, their home. Such does not belong in a foreign land. But beyond this, the word ‘foreign’ is rare in the Psalms occurring elsewhere only in Pss. 18:45-46 and 144:7, 11 (cf. Ps. 81.10 ‘foreign god’). The infrequency of the word in the psalms means that as well as voicing the bitter experience of exile Psalm 137 anticipates the question of continued foreign domination after return from exile.

Isaiah 40

40:1 | Comfort, O comfort my people, says your God.

40:2 | Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her  that her warfare is ended, that her iniquity is pardoned, that she has received from the Lord’s hand double for all her sins.

The prophet begins, “Comfort, 0 comfort my people.” In Hebrew the words have the soft, resonant sound of a lullaby,  “Na-ha-mu, na-ha-mu, ami …” It sounds for all the world like a parent soothing a child. “Comfort, comfort. It’s all right. It’s all over. I’m going to take you home.”

Those of you who have ever had surgery know that one of the most frightening moments of that ordeal is when you first start to come out from under the anesthetic. There is pain, confusion, and perhaps worst of all, an inability to understand what is happening.

Messiah 

Overture

The first piece is the Overture which explores major themes of the Messiah.

 

“The somber opening chords of the overture place us in the darkness of the exile, away from our roots, bereft of our identity, with no hope for present or future. But the somber chords introduce no funeral dirge, no march of the dead. Gloom there is, but there is stateliness in the gloom, something of a refusal to believe that death is all that awaits. The musical line moves higher through the dark, moved by the faith that God has not forsaken his people, that a future yet lies ahead. As the brilliant fugue opens, the hope shines through, lively with faith; the music works its way into a crescendo before the movement resolves itself on chords once more somber. But these closing chords are now informed by a sustaining confidence. It is not despair sounding forth here, but firmness of spirit. Something has been moving in these depths that will issue in a new beginning. Herein is the hope: God will yet act.” From Messiah, the Gospel according to Handel’s Oratorio– Roger A. Bullard.

->Recitative for Tenor

Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God; speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem, and cry unto her, that her war­ fare is accomplished, that her iniquity is pardoned.       (Isaiah 40:1-2)

The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness: prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.

Comfort – Cutting through the gloom of exile come words of assurance, the opening lines of the second part of the book of the prophet Isaiah

This book, as we noted, is divided into two parts. The first is associated with the eighth-century prophet Isaiah of Jerusalem; the second, beginning with chapter 40, is thought by most scholars to be a collection of prophecies from anonymous prophets of the exilic and post-exilic periods. Many think chapters 40-55 are the literary remains of a nameless prophet of the exile known as the Second Isaiah.

These words are spoken to the Jewish community in Babylonian exile, who in their land of alien sojourning, by whose waters they sang in Psalm 137 of hanging their harps on the willows, hear the prophet announcing a word of comfort from none other than their ancestral God.

This is the God who, two hundred years earlier, had commanded the prophet Hosea to speak to Israel the disowning words; “You are not my people and I am not your God” (Hosea 1:9). But now there is a reversal. The welcome word of comfort is stated and repeated, as God reclaims them as “my people.” This is said in the name of “your God.” The alienation is ended. Separation from the land represented separation from God, but God now reclaims his people and will return them to their heritage.

The prophet Micah had asked, “What is the sin of Judah? Is it not Jerusalem?” (Micah 1:5 Revised English Bible). David’s capital city had become crystallized as a symbol of the peoples sin, but now Jerusalem is to be told that her time of alienation is over. Her warfare is accomplished — “her term of service” is a better translation. Her sentence has been served. Her iniquity has been finally dealt with in a way open to God alone; it has been pardoned. Sin can be punished, but it cannot be dealt with in an ultimate way until it has been forgiven.

The God who had brought them up from the land of Egypt would now lead them home. “Speak comfortably” of course means “speak comfortingly.”

#4  The Road Home 

What, we may well ask, was the occasion for this sudden message of comfort? Simply a political reality which no one could have predicted; Persia’s rise to power and Babylon’s subsequent fall. Isaiah 44:28 mentions the Persian king Cyrus by name and Isaiah 45:1 even refers to him as the Lord’s “anointed,” a title usually reserved for a Davidic king. Yet, one can see how Cyrus’ actions might have called forth the people’s affections. One of the first things he did upon coming to the throne was to release all of Babylon’s captives. For the exiled Judeans, it must have seemed like a second exodus. Let my people go!

It was good news-great news! But, there was one more practical detail to be worked out before Isaiah 40’s comfort could be complete. It’s one thing to say “you can go home again,” but it’s quite another to explain how the people were going to get there. For those among the exiled community who were old enough to remember the original trip, there must have been an indelible memory of hardship and suffering as the captives endured the long trek up and around the Arabian Desert. For them, the good news of their coming release must have been seriously qualified by a sense of uncertainty about the journey. Could they make it home? Would they and their loved ones survive to see Jerusalem?

As if to anticipate and allay the people’s concerns, the prophet moves immediately to talk of a level and obstacle-free highway across the barren wilderness.

Isaiah 40:3-4

40:3 | A voice cries out: “In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.

40:4 | Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain.

If the journey east had been one of hardship and shame, then the journey west would be one of ease and triumph. We may well wonder whether the eventual reality measured up to the figurative and did not literally expect the mountains to flatten before them.

There is another interpretation of these “highway” verses which suggests that the highway is described as being not so much for the people as for God (see 40:3). This interpretation takes into account certain Babylonian hymns which describe the triumphal highways on which a king or a god might enter a city. Perhaps the picture here is designed to depict the triumphal re-entry of God into Jerusalem. Whichever interpretation one chooses, it is clear that the message is one of supreme comfort. God is going to bring the exiles home again, and will be with them every step of the way.

Messiah

->Air for Tenor

Every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill made low:
the crooked straight and the rough places plain.

(Isaiah 40:4; modified)

Listen for:

  • the voice of the “herald”
  • the way the “mountains and valleys” are reflected in the ascending and descending musical lines
  • the way the instrumental parts help to convey the excitement of the impending announcement

What the voice cries are two perfect parallel lines: wilderness/desert; prepare/make straight; the way/a highway, the Lord/our God. This parallel structuring was crucially important in Hebrew poetry, and this prophet, like most of the Hebrew prophets, was a poet.

The image here is of a highway being built straight across the desert from Babylonia, the land of exile, to Israel, the once more Promised Land. Ordinarily the traveler going from Babylonia to Israel would follow the curvature of the Fertile Crescent, avoiding the desert; but this road is to cut direct through the arid wilderness. It is the Lord who will be traveling that road, leading his people homeward. While serving their sentence in exile, the people may have been bereft of king, land, and temple, but even while God executed his punishment, he had not abandoned them, and he was now to lead them to restoration.

The voice of one crying in the wilderness. It is this version of the oracle that the evangelists Matthew, Mark, and Luke quote and which John refers to when they introduce the figure of John the Baptist, a latter-day prophet who, like Elijah long before him, was a rough-clad figure of the wilderness

Jewish tradition held that Elijah, who had been taken directly up into heaven, would return as a herald of God’s Anointed One, the Messiah. Christian tradition saw John the Baptist as precisely this figure,

Just as all four of the gospel writers begin the story of Jesus’ ministry with the witness borne to him by John, the oratorio begins with this harking forward to Johns announcement by reinterpreting the words of the ancient prophet.

The Baptist’s call to repentance in preparation for Messiahs coming is quite in line with the prophets announcement of pardon, his proclamation that God would lead his forgiven people along a broad highway home. The traditions transmitted by the people of Israel from their past were constantly being shaped and reinterpreted; the evangelists’ connection of this passage with the proclamation of John the Baptist is simply taking this ancient process a step further.

#5 Setting the Record Straight

The return of the exiles to their homeland also vindicates God’s reputation among the nations. The salvation of God’s people serves to silence all those who had erroneously concluded that the exile was a sign of God’s abandonment or weakness. “All people shall see it together,” announces Isaiah 40:5. In that moment of truth, the taunts of the nations are rendered moot

Ask for contemporary examples of problematic situations which could lead people to conclude that God is either dead or powerless. In other words, “what are the neighbors saying” about God today? Do their accusations ever give rise to doubt within the community of faith? How should we respond, both to internal doubts and external accusations?

Isaiah

40:5 | Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together, for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”

“Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed …” That really is the crux of the matter. While the previous verses demonstrate the intense degree to which the prophet cares about the people’s fate, here he raises a matter of still greater consequence: God’s reputation.

How could Yahweh have let this happen to the covenant people? That’s what the “neigh­bors” were saying about the exile. What kind of a God, after all, would let the Temple be destroyed and the people be carted off to Babylon? So, in the release of the captive people and their restoration to the promised land, God’s reputation would be vindicated. The glory of the Lord would be revealed, and all people would see it together. The restoration would finally set the record straight, not only for the covenant people themselves, but for all the nations around them who had called God’s power into question.

This sort of logic may seem rather strange to us. And yet, we are all conscious of the impor­tance of maintaining a good reputation. “What would the neighbors think?” is a refrain with which we are all familiar. While other parts of Scripture issue a warning against making too much of this consideration, appeals to this sort of logic are quite frequent, especially in the Old Testament. Strange or not, it is clear that the author of Isaiah 40 derives a great deal of satisfaction from knowing that his God would be vindicated in full view of all the nations that had ridiculed the covenant community.

Before playing “And the glory of the Lord” note that the overpowering sense of triumph and victory in this piece has earned it a reputation as the “Hallelujah Chorus” of the first section of Handel’s Messiah

Messiah

->Chorus

And the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see
it together: for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it.

(Isaiah 40:5)

 

Messiah’s coming will bring justice, vindication for the downtrodden at the expense of those who have fostered injustice. The pre-exilic words of Amos, who so insisted on social justice, who condemned those “who trample the head of the poor into the dust of the earth” (Amos 2:7), are not obviated by Messiah’s advent. The old words of judgment maintain validity and force.

“The LORD of hosts has a day against all that is proud and lofty,” wrote Isaiah of Jerusalem, “against all that is lifted up and high” (Isaiah 2:12). There will be no obstacle to the Lord in his coming, whether mountains in the desert or mountains of human presumption and arrogance. The highway will be made straight, level, even. The prophet sees God as determined in his intention to vindicate his people as he was determined that they should pay for their sin. The crooked will be made straight, and the rough places made into a wide and open plain — and the glory of the Lord will be revealed in this act.

The glory of the Lord is a theme in the Old Testament. The literal term used in Hebrew is “the weight of the Lord,” his heaviness, as it were, his overwhelming importance. (The Greek translators realized that this would make no sense in Greek, so they used a term meaning “fame, reputation.” Jerome, in putting it into Latin, chose the word gloria, which has given us our term.) The glory of the Lord was revealed in powerful deeds, when God made a manifest statement; it might be pictured as accompanied by fire or cloud. The term is taken over in the New Testament, where it is associated with Christ. The Letter to the Hebrews opens: “Long ago God spoke to our ancestors in many and various ways by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by a Son…. He is the reflection of Gods glory . . .” (Hebrews 1:1-3). The glory of the Lord is a theme returned to often in the text of Handel’s oratorio, and we must be alert to its occurrence.

So the glory of God, the statement made by God in the powerful act of redeeming his people from oppression, becomes in larger context the Messiah himself, who will redeem God’s people from a bondage to sin more profound than the subjugation by Babylonian exile. This is what will be revealed: Gods redeeming activity; and all humanity shall see it together. The return across the desert highway will be of the Jews going home, but that act of glory, that revelation of God’s purposes, will be a witness to the nations, to all the worlds, of a salvation available to all through the God of Israel, who called Israel as a light to the nations.

When Matthew and Mark quote the prophet in referring to John the Baptist, they close the quotation with “make his ways straight.” But Luke sees more in the prophets words. He continues the quotation until he comes to this point, which he cites from the ancient Greek translation: “and all flesh shall see the salvation of God” (Luke 3:6).

Here are words of assurance for all God’s people, Jew and Gentile alike, pictured in God’s promise of redemption and restoration. Here are words guaranteed by the authority of the source of the prophet’s message, “for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.” In section 9, “O Thou That Tellest Good Tidings,” we will be returning to this passage from Isaiah 40

#6 Go, Tell It on the Mountain

Nations and kingdoms may pass away, but God’s word is utterly reliable and will stand for­ever. God is victorious! That is the affirmation made by Isaiah 40:6-9.

40:6 | A voice says, “Cry out!” And I said, “What shall I cry?” All people are grass, their constancy is like the flower of the field.

40:7 | The grass withers, the flower fades, when the breath of the Lord blows upon it; surely the people are grass.

40:8 | The grass withers, the flower fades; but the word of our God will stand forever.

40:9 | Get you up to a high mountain, O Zion, herald of good tidings; lift up your voice with strength, O Jerusalem, herald of good tidings, lift it up, do not fear; say to the cities of Judah, “Here is your God!”

The verse build on the motif of the ”nations” in the previous passage and contrast their short-lived glory with God’s reliability. That sense of God’s constancy and permanence is underscored by the focus on God’s “word.”

The ancient world had much more of a sense that a person’s spoken word was binding than we do. This is why we so often hear references to how God’s word will not “return empty.” In this passage we get the sense that there was some uncertainty about whether God would indeed make good on previous promises. Yet, Cyrus’s edict provides evidence that God’s word is indeed “good.” What wonderful news! Verse 9 admonishes the prophet to “go, tell it on the mountain.” 

Messiah

->Air for Alto and Chorus

O thou that tellest good tidings to Zion, get thee up into the high mountain; 0 thou that tellest good tidings to Jerusalem, lift up thy voice with strength; lift it up, be not afraid; say unto the cities of Judah: behold your God! (Isaiah 40:9; modified)

Arise, shine, for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen
upon thee. (Isaiah 60:1)

 

A flashback to the exile. At the beginning of the oratorio we listened to the words of the exilic Isaiah, speaking for God to his deported nation: “Comfort my people “That particular passage ended with the chorus singing that the glory of the Lord was about to be revealed. Now we return to that passage in Isaiah 40, but here we are transported to the other end of the Fertile Crescent from Babylonia, to Jerusalem itself. Here is the lonely city who mourns and is mourned in the five despondent dirges that constitute the chapters of the book of Lamentations

Zion and Jerusalem are technically separate, but in the devices of Hebrew poetry they designate the same entity: the beloved city. Originally Zion may have referred to the oldest part of the city, the ancient Canaanite stronghold captured by David and known as the City of David. Later the term was transferred to the Temple mount, the area north of the old city into which Jerusalem expanded under Solomon and where he built the Temple. It is in any case a considerable elevation, about 2500 feet above sea level, but not the highest point in the vicinity. In spite of this, however, in Hebrew poetry one always travels up to Jerusalem, from whatever direction or height, since figuratively, if not in fact, it is “the highest of the mountains . . . raised above the hills” (Isaiah 2:2; Micah 4:1).

Here is the picture. The bereft city sits lonely, her people many decades long departed. Then, from a high mountain in the distance appears a herald, a forerunner of the regal caravan proceeding westward across the wilderness. The city looks up expectantly and hears the proclamation of the good news: Your God is on his way back! Here he comes!

The Psalmist describes it as “His holy mountain, beautiful in elevation” (Psalm 48:2). But now this city set on a hill looks to higher elevations to hear the glad news proclaimed. The herald may shout fearlessly aloud, not only to the Holy City but to all the habitations of surrounding Judah, that the new day has arrived, that the Lord God is coming in all his might, bringing his people with him (Isaiah 40:10, omitted in the oratorio).

As Handel has used this passage, however, we are not speaking about exiles returning from captivity, led by their God. The good news is being shouted out to us, God’s people sitting as lonely and deserted as old Jerusalem, that our God is on the way. The oratorio’s reference is to the advent of Messiah, whose birth by a virgin mother has just been announced. In the coming of the virgins son, God himself is manifest among us. This is good tidings indeed, what the New Testament calls “gospel,” a word which means “good news” and which translates a Greek word meaning precisely that.

The aria continues by shirting to Isaiah 60:1, which appropriately refers back to 40:5, “and the glory of the LORD shall be revealed.” Zion is still being addressed; the verbs are still feminine. The city is pictured as a woman cast down to the ground.

Fallen, no more to rise,
is maiden Israel;
forsaken on her land,
with none to raise her up.
(Amos 5:2)
Rouse yourself, rouse yourself!
Stand up, O Jerusalem,
you who have drunk at the hand of the LORD
the cup of his wrath.
(Isaiah 51:17)

The prostrate one is commanded to rise, to shine, to glow with the reflected light from the dawn breaking upon her, to shine as the face of Moses shone from his encounter with God on Sinai. The glory of the Lord has come up over the mountains like the break of day, “the light of the gospel, the image of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God” (II Corinthians 4:4).

#7 God as Good Shepherd

The depiction of God in Isaiah 40 is one of both strength and gentleness. Both of these characteristics are captured in the metaphor of the good shepherd.
In Isaiah 40:10-11 the prophet returns to the matter of the journey home.

40:10 | See, the Lord God comes with might, and his arm rules for him; his reward is with him, and his recompense before him.

40:11 | He will tend his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms;   he will carry them in his bosom, and gently lead those that are with young.

Verse 10 empha­sizes that God is indeed powerful enough to bring this about, but verse 11 reminds us that God can be gentle as well as powerful. The imagery shifts from God as mighty warrior to God as good shepherd.

While this section of Isaiah 40 ends with the image of God as the good shepherd, Handel and Jennens save verse 11 and its comforting imagery for the end of Part I. We will spend more time analyzing this verse in Session Four. For now, however, take note of the way in which this imagery is “recycled” to apply to Jesus Christ, the Good Shepherd. This follows the lead of early Christian tradition, which understood Jesus in precisely this way.

Early Christians knew the Jesus that John had described-the Good Shepherd who had laid down his life for the sheep. Ancient exiles also looked to a God who would “gather the lambs in his arms … and gently lead the mother sheep.” Surely we can trust this same God to lead us home, even if our way be through “the valley of the shadow of death” (recall Psalm 23).

John 10:1-18

Messiah

->1.8  Duet (Air for Alto)

He shall feed his flock like a shepherd: and he shall gather the lambs with
his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and gently lead those that are with
young. (Isaiah 40:11; modified)

 

Duet (Air for Soprano)

Come unto him all ye that labour, that are heavy laden, and he will give you rest. Take his yoke upon you, and learn of him, for he is meek and lowly of heart, and ye shall find rest unto your souls.

(Matthew 11:28-29; modified)