The names on the tag
Commentary
Object:
We're thinking a lot about Christmas presents these days.
As children, the prospect of Christmas was filled with excitement and much of that excitement was associated with presents. People, including perhaps Santa himself, asked us what we wanted for Christmas. The tree was surrounded with gifts that filled our eyes and captured our imaginations. We could hardly contain ourselves when it was finally time to begin unwrapping.
As adults, we may not be quite as caught up in the excitement of what we are going to get for Christmas but we are occupied with what we are going to give. We have our lists, we do our shopping, and then we set about the festive task of wrapping and addressing our gifts. Even if we find that the shopping becomes something of a burden at times, still there is great pleasure and satisfaction in the actual giving of the gift -- and the look on the recipient's face!
Because most Christmas presents still traditionally appear beneath a tree and because that tree usually shelters gifts for more than one person, the wrapping typically includes some sort of a tag. The gift tag generally has a "To" line and a "From" line, identifying both the person who gives the gift and the one to whom it is being given. Sometimes that tag features names -- Sally, Bill, Louise, or Fred. And sometimes instead of names the tag features titles that function like names in our relationships -- Dad, Mom, Grandma, and such.
As our three assigned texts invite us to remember and celebrate the original Christmas holiday, we are mindful of the first and best Christmas gift. And we find ourselves considering the names and titles on the tag.
Isaiah 9:2-7
The time of the prophet Isaiah was complex. On the one hand, there was the spiritual condition of the people of Judah and Jerusalem themselves. The land was full of immorality, injustice, and idolatry. God was so displeased with how the people were living that he had become repelled even by their acts of worship (see 1:10-15). Then, at the same time, there was a larger political and military context, which was quite menacing. The Israelites and Syrians to the north were periodically hostile to the southern kingdom of Judah. Further still across the northern horizon, there was the growing threat of the Assyrian empire.
During the time of Isaiah's life and ministry, those Assyrians would move out of northern Mesopotamia, through Syria, and into the northern kingdom of Israel. The capital city of Samaria would fall to the Assyrians, who took the Israelites into exile and repopulated much of the land with other conquered foreigners. Then the Assyrian army came further south, decimating the kingdom of Judah, and creating a crisis in the capital city of Jerusalem.
In the end, Jerusalem miraculously survived the Assyrian assault. But that happy ending did not diminish the larger reality of sin, vulnerability, and fear. It was within that larger context that Isaiah preached a message of warning about God's judgment.
Yet judgment was not the only word God wanted Isaiah to say to his people. There were also words of hope and promise and prominent among those was this expressed anticipation of a certain child, a son, who would be born.
The first good news is about light. We recognize this as the regular work of God: to bring light into darkness. And for anyone who is lost or trapped in darkness, there is no better good news than the introduction of light. Light makes all the difference. That's why, even when we are speaking figuratively, we say that we're looking for "a light at the end of the tunnel." Light is what we need when we're in the dark and light is what God promised.
The arrival of the "great light" is followed by great rejoicing. What kind of rejoicing? The kind of rejoicing that accompanies harvest or victory. In other words, this is an all-out celebration, full of accomplishment and abundance. It is also the language of military victory -- more than the language of harvest -- that is developed in the succeeding verses. We move to images of liberation and the defeat of a cruel oppressor. That is cause for celebration indeed!
Finally, the climax of all this good news is the arrival of a certain child: a son. We observe that the news of his birth is associated with images of light, victory, and liberty. In the next moment, we are struck by the titles attributed to him. The titles cover an immense spectrum, from personal and relational to political to theological. Furthermore, he is significantly associated with the throne of David. Yet more than any of David's other successors, this one's rule will be impeccable and unending. If we had not yet perceived who was behind all of this beauty and promise, Isaiah declares, "The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this."
Titus 2:11-14
In 1930, the renowned New York City preacher Harry Emerson Fosdick penned the words to the hymn "God of Grace and God of Glory." Those two attributes of God highlighted by Fosdick are the attributes central to this passage from the apostle Paul. We might say to our people this week that we live our lives between those two attributes of God.
First, Paul declares that "the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation to all." That is the particular line that makes this a Christmas passage. While our Old Testament lection features a prophecy that anticipates the Christmas event, and our gospel lection is a narrative that reports the Christmas event, the epistle passage has a different relationship to the holiday. This is a theological understanding of what actually occurred that night in Bethlehem: "The grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation to all."
What verb does grace naturally take? Of what verb is grace able to be the subject? Paul makes a significant linguistic choice here, for while "grace" is an intangible, "appeared" suggests tangibility. Now, we might think that Paul is using just a literary device -- a physical metaphor, just as one might say that he or she had been "embraced" by grace. Yet within the context of Christmas, we recognize that this is no mere rhetorical technique. The apostle is speaking literally: grace actually appeared, for it was incarnate in Jesus Christ. Now human beings could see the grace of God with their own eyes.
Meanwhile, there is a second intangible attribute of God about which the apostle also speaks in tangible terms. "We wait," he says, for "the manifestation of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ." "Manifestation" carries something of the same sense as "appeared" earlier. The idea again is that an intangible attribute will somehow become apparent: visible, perceivable, fully revealed to the senses. Unlike the grace, however, which "has appeared," Paul indicates that the glory of God is yet to be manifested. Incarnate grace is an event in the past; visible glory is an experience yet to come.
So we have two spectacles on a grand, cosmic time line. One is past, one is future, and you and I live between the two. Those are the bookends of "the present age."
Now, if I am on a time line between matriculating and graduating, you can imagine what my life and responsibilities look like. If I am between my child being born into my home and my child moving out of my home, you have a sense for what kinds of things might be prominent in my life.
But what if a person is on a time line between God's grace and God's glory? What then does his or her life look like?
Paul paints the picture for us. Self-controlled, upright, and godly: these characterize the people who recognize where they are and live accordingly. For these are the wise and wholesome responses to the grace we have known and the glory we anticipate.
Furthermore, Paul also gives us a glimpse into the end-result God has in mind. Just as an architect will provide drawings and three-dimensional models to help folks envision what the final product will look like once construction is complete, so does God afford us such a picture in his word. People who are redeemed from all iniquity, pure, and "zealous for good deeds" -- that is the look of the finished product God is planning for you and me.
Of course, we may not all be there yet. But that is the track we are on as we live our lives between his grace and his glory.
Luke 2:1-14 (15-20)
When Luke begins his gospel account of Jesus' life, he proposes to offer "an orderly account" (1:3) of the things that had taken place. Students of the Bible come to appreciate the deliberate effort Luke makes to provide a carefully researched report of those events. We see in this most familiar telling of the Christmas story the author's carefulness about details of time and place.
Details of time and place should not be dismissed. They are not incidental to this story, for as soon as you put forth the thesis that God became incarnate, you shine a spotlight on such matters of historical context. The incarnation insists on some particularity: for if he came, then it must have been at some specific time; and if he came, then it must have been to some identifiable place.
So it is that Luke sets the stage for us by pinpointing the time and the place of this event.
The times are identified in terms of people -- specifically, rulers. It was at the time when Augustus was emperor and while Quirinius was governor. There is, of course, a dramatic irony in this method of dating, for the event being reported forever changed how we date events. The seemingly inconsequential movement of one man and his fiancee from little town to little town is dated in terms of Augustus and Quirinius. And yet, now we date the lives and administrations of Augustus and Quirinius in terms of that inconsequential couple's son -- BC and AD. While it has become unfashionable to use those manifestly religious designations, the preferred BCE and CE still pivot on the same moment in history.
Meanwhile, the places that Luke identifies have a certain narrative and theological flow to them. He is like a director who allows his camera to start with a very wide lens, and then narrows the focus more and more until he arrives at his real subject. The broad lens envisions "all the world," which is the scope of the emperor's decree. Then the story moves to one large region of the empire -- Syria, the jurisdiction of Quirinius. Then the focus is narrowed still more: we look to two small regions within the empire: Galilee and Judea. Within those regions, two tiny towns: Nazareth and Bethlehem. On a map of "all the world," neither town would appear even as a dot. Yet that is where Luke's focus takes us and in the end we discover that the events recorded there embrace and exceed that larger "all the world" decree.
Finally, we might also note the extra character in Luke's plot. In a cast list, we would see two named characters that appear on stage: Joseph and Mary. Then there is the central character, who appears but is not named in this passage: the child. Also, there is a group of characters whose individual names we don't know but who appear as a group called "the shepherds." Further, there are the two characters who are named but who serve more as backdrops than actors: Augustus and Quirinius. Finally, there is one more. There is one character whose name appears more than anyone else's in this passage, even though he never appears on the stage -- and we will give that special character some special attention below.
Application
We could spend the whole Advent and Christmas seasons, let alone a single holiday, on the names and titles revealed in today's lections. Consider, for example, just these titles that are directly or interpretively applied to Jesus: Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace, God and Savior, Christ, the Messiah, and the Lord. You and I could preach the gospel for several months of Sundays without exhausting the beauty and truth of these important titles.
Our immediate focus, however, is on the "To" and "From" lines of the original Christmas Gift's "tag."
First, the Gift is from God. This is implicit in the fact that the news is announced by angels and that they and later the shepherds praise God "for all they had heard and seen." Furthermore, in the majestic Isaiah passage, the whole beautiful promise is sealed by this profound guarantee: "The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this."
"The Lord of hosts," of course, carries something of a military connotation in its Old Testament usages. It is a name that conveys the invincible strength and sovereignty of God. And that name, therefore, makes this gift -- so gentle, so humble, so merciful -- all the more remarkable. The Lord of hosts is more than equipped to conquer us; instead, however, his gracious endeavor is to save us.
Which brings us to the "To" line on the tag. This Gift is "to us."
Handel's Messiah makes this element of the good news familiar and memorable to us: "For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given." We rightly emphasize and celebrate that Child, that Son, on this day but heaven forbid that we should overlook the "to us"!
This is a part of the original Isaiah prophecy. While "the people who walked in darkness" may be third-person, arm's-length, at-a-distance, this birth is close-to-home. The reference to the increase and joy of the nation is third-person, as well as are the images of harvesting and plundering. But the prophecy becomes personal when it comes to the child that has been born and the son that has been given. He is "to us."
The personal truth that is anticipated in Isaiah is reiterated by the angels in Luke. The good news was meant "for all the people," to be sure. It was not exclusively for that anonymous group of shepherds. Yet, tellingly, the news of Christ's birth is still personally addressed and applied: "to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior."
As we unwrap the familiar story for our people on this Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, let us be sure to highlight the names on the tag. For the good news that is meant for all people is meant for them one-at-a-time. It is individual, personal. He is born "to us." And he is given "to us."
An Alternative Application
Luke 2:1-14. "The Extra Character." We noted above in our consideration of the gospel lection that there is a kind of extra character in Luke's account of the Christmas story. This individual's name appears more than anyone else in this passage and yet he has no lines and no actions in the story. Indeed, he is not even a contemporary of the event, unlike Joseph, Mary, Augustus, Quirinius, the shepherds, and the baby.
The extra character is David. He is mentioned by name three times in these verses. The town of Jesus' birth is identified by the narrator and the angel as "the city of David." Joseph himself is identified as being "from the house and family of David."
Now, I don't want to be misunderstood on this point. Clearly David is not the central character in the story, and he should not be treated as such. Yet the weight of the evidence in the passages suggests that the One who is the central character is better understood in light of David.
David is a towering figure in the Old Testament. He is chosen by God ahead of his older brothers, as well as in place of the reigning king of Israel, Saul, and his son, Prince Jonathan. He is a hero and exemplar of faith even as a boy, and as a young man he becomes a man of great military leadership and feats. He is the man who conquers Jerusalem for Israel, establishing it as his new capital. Shortly after, David arranges to have the Ark of the Covenant brought to Jerusalem, making it the spiritual capital of the land as well. He is a tremendously successful leader, setting up his son and successor, Solomon, for a truly golden age of large territory, secure borders, and great prosperity.
During his life, David was celebrated as a national hero. After his death, his legend continued to grow. Subsequent kings in Jerusalem were judged as good or bad based on the degree to which they followed David's example. Ultimately, David's name, throne, line, and capital all become thematic in Old Testament prophecies and New Testament expectations about the promised Messiah.
David had been anointed by Samuel to be the second king of Israel and David was so impressed by the significance of being anointed that, even though he was clearly God's chosen successor and the reigning Saul was becoming a personal disaster, David would not harm him specifically because Saul was "the Lord's anointed" (1 Samuel 24:6; 26:9). Several of David's Psalms also emphasize that theme of being "the Lord's anointed."
Of course, the Hebrew word for "anointed" is the source of our English word "Messiah." And the Greek word for "anointed" is where we get the title "Christ." So it is that the poet called Jesus "the Lord's Anointed, great David's greater Son."1 That effectively captures the rich mixture of traditions and expectations that link Jesus to David. For while David is not the central character in the Christmas story, he helps us better understand the One who is.
__________
1. James Montgomery, "Hail to the Lord's Anointed" (United Methodist Hymnal #203).
As children, the prospect of Christmas was filled with excitement and much of that excitement was associated with presents. People, including perhaps Santa himself, asked us what we wanted for Christmas. The tree was surrounded with gifts that filled our eyes and captured our imaginations. We could hardly contain ourselves when it was finally time to begin unwrapping.
As adults, we may not be quite as caught up in the excitement of what we are going to get for Christmas but we are occupied with what we are going to give. We have our lists, we do our shopping, and then we set about the festive task of wrapping and addressing our gifts. Even if we find that the shopping becomes something of a burden at times, still there is great pleasure and satisfaction in the actual giving of the gift -- and the look on the recipient's face!
Because most Christmas presents still traditionally appear beneath a tree and because that tree usually shelters gifts for more than one person, the wrapping typically includes some sort of a tag. The gift tag generally has a "To" line and a "From" line, identifying both the person who gives the gift and the one to whom it is being given. Sometimes that tag features names -- Sally, Bill, Louise, or Fred. And sometimes instead of names the tag features titles that function like names in our relationships -- Dad, Mom, Grandma, and such.
As our three assigned texts invite us to remember and celebrate the original Christmas holiday, we are mindful of the first and best Christmas gift. And we find ourselves considering the names and titles on the tag.
Isaiah 9:2-7
The time of the prophet Isaiah was complex. On the one hand, there was the spiritual condition of the people of Judah and Jerusalem themselves. The land was full of immorality, injustice, and idolatry. God was so displeased with how the people were living that he had become repelled even by their acts of worship (see 1:10-15). Then, at the same time, there was a larger political and military context, which was quite menacing. The Israelites and Syrians to the north were periodically hostile to the southern kingdom of Judah. Further still across the northern horizon, there was the growing threat of the Assyrian empire.
During the time of Isaiah's life and ministry, those Assyrians would move out of northern Mesopotamia, through Syria, and into the northern kingdom of Israel. The capital city of Samaria would fall to the Assyrians, who took the Israelites into exile and repopulated much of the land with other conquered foreigners. Then the Assyrian army came further south, decimating the kingdom of Judah, and creating a crisis in the capital city of Jerusalem.
In the end, Jerusalem miraculously survived the Assyrian assault. But that happy ending did not diminish the larger reality of sin, vulnerability, and fear. It was within that larger context that Isaiah preached a message of warning about God's judgment.
Yet judgment was not the only word God wanted Isaiah to say to his people. There were also words of hope and promise and prominent among those was this expressed anticipation of a certain child, a son, who would be born.
The first good news is about light. We recognize this as the regular work of God: to bring light into darkness. And for anyone who is lost or trapped in darkness, there is no better good news than the introduction of light. Light makes all the difference. That's why, even when we are speaking figuratively, we say that we're looking for "a light at the end of the tunnel." Light is what we need when we're in the dark and light is what God promised.
The arrival of the "great light" is followed by great rejoicing. What kind of rejoicing? The kind of rejoicing that accompanies harvest or victory. In other words, this is an all-out celebration, full of accomplishment and abundance. It is also the language of military victory -- more than the language of harvest -- that is developed in the succeeding verses. We move to images of liberation and the defeat of a cruel oppressor. That is cause for celebration indeed!
Finally, the climax of all this good news is the arrival of a certain child: a son. We observe that the news of his birth is associated with images of light, victory, and liberty. In the next moment, we are struck by the titles attributed to him. The titles cover an immense spectrum, from personal and relational to political to theological. Furthermore, he is significantly associated with the throne of David. Yet more than any of David's other successors, this one's rule will be impeccable and unending. If we had not yet perceived who was behind all of this beauty and promise, Isaiah declares, "The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this."
Titus 2:11-14
In 1930, the renowned New York City preacher Harry Emerson Fosdick penned the words to the hymn "God of Grace and God of Glory." Those two attributes of God highlighted by Fosdick are the attributes central to this passage from the apostle Paul. We might say to our people this week that we live our lives between those two attributes of God.
First, Paul declares that "the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation to all." That is the particular line that makes this a Christmas passage. While our Old Testament lection features a prophecy that anticipates the Christmas event, and our gospel lection is a narrative that reports the Christmas event, the epistle passage has a different relationship to the holiday. This is a theological understanding of what actually occurred that night in Bethlehem: "The grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation to all."
What verb does grace naturally take? Of what verb is grace able to be the subject? Paul makes a significant linguistic choice here, for while "grace" is an intangible, "appeared" suggests tangibility. Now, we might think that Paul is using just a literary device -- a physical metaphor, just as one might say that he or she had been "embraced" by grace. Yet within the context of Christmas, we recognize that this is no mere rhetorical technique. The apostle is speaking literally: grace actually appeared, for it was incarnate in Jesus Christ. Now human beings could see the grace of God with their own eyes.
Meanwhile, there is a second intangible attribute of God about which the apostle also speaks in tangible terms. "We wait," he says, for "the manifestation of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ." "Manifestation" carries something of the same sense as "appeared" earlier. The idea again is that an intangible attribute will somehow become apparent: visible, perceivable, fully revealed to the senses. Unlike the grace, however, which "has appeared," Paul indicates that the glory of God is yet to be manifested. Incarnate grace is an event in the past; visible glory is an experience yet to come.
So we have two spectacles on a grand, cosmic time line. One is past, one is future, and you and I live between the two. Those are the bookends of "the present age."
Now, if I am on a time line between matriculating and graduating, you can imagine what my life and responsibilities look like. If I am between my child being born into my home and my child moving out of my home, you have a sense for what kinds of things might be prominent in my life.
But what if a person is on a time line between God's grace and God's glory? What then does his or her life look like?
Paul paints the picture for us. Self-controlled, upright, and godly: these characterize the people who recognize where they are and live accordingly. For these are the wise and wholesome responses to the grace we have known and the glory we anticipate.
Furthermore, Paul also gives us a glimpse into the end-result God has in mind. Just as an architect will provide drawings and three-dimensional models to help folks envision what the final product will look like once construction is complete, so does God afford us such a picture in his word. People who are redeemed from all iniquity, pure, and "zealous for good deeds" -- that is the look of the finished product God is planning for you and me.
Of course, we may not all be there yet. But that is the track we are on as we live our lives between his grace and his glory.
Luke 2:1-14 (15-20)
When Luke begins his gospel account of Jesus' life, he proposes to offer "an orderly account" (1:3) of the things that had taken place. Students of the Bible come to appreciate the deliberate effort Luke makes to provide a carefully researched report of those events. We see in this most familiar telling of the Christmas story the author's carefulness about details of time and place.
Details of time and place should not be dismissed. They are not incidental to this story, for as soon as you put forth the thesis that God became incarnate, you shine a spotlight on such matters of historical context. The incarnation insists on some particularity: for if he came, then it must have been at some specific time; and if he came, then it must have been to some identifiable place.
So it is that Luke sets the stage for us by pinpointing the time and the place of this event.
The times are identified in terms of people -- specifically, rulers. It was at the time when Augustus was emperor and while Quirinius was governor. There is, of course, a dramatic irony in this method of dating, for the event being reported forever changed how we date events. The seemingly inconsequential movement of one man and his fiancee from little town to little town is dated in terms of Augustus and Quirinius. And yet, now we date the lives and administrations of Augustus and Quirinius in terms of that inconsequential couple's son -- BC and AD. While it has become unfashionable to use those manifestly religious designations, the preferred BCE and CE still pivot on the same moment in history.
Meanwhile, the places that Luke identifies have a certain narrative and theological flow to them. He is like a director who allows his camera to start with a very wide lens, and then narrows the focus more and more until he arrives at his real subject. The broad lens envisions "all the world," which is the scope of the emperor's decree. Then the story moves to one large region of the empire -- Syria, the jurisdiction of Quirinius. Then the focus is narrowed still more: we look to two small regions within the empire: Galilee and Judea. Within those regions, two tiny towns: Nazareth and Bethlehem. On a map of "all the world," neither town would appear even as a dot. Yet that is where Luke's focus takes us and in the end we discover that the events recorded there embrace and exceed that larger "all the world" decree.
Finally, we might also note the extra character in Luke's plot. In a cast list, we would see two named characters that appear on stage: Joseph and Mary. Then there is the central character, who appears but is not named in this passage: the child. Also, there is a group of characters whose individual names we don't know but who appear as a group called "the shepherds." Further, there are the two characters who are named but who serve more as backdrops than actors: Augustus and Quirinius. Finally, there is one more. There is one character whose name appears more than anyone else's in this passage, even though he never appears on the stage -- and we will give that special character some special attention below.
Application
We could spend the whole Advent and Christmas seasons, let alone a single holiday, on the names and titles revealed in today's lections. Consider, for example, just these titles that are directly or interpretively applied to Jesus: Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace, God and Savior, Christ, the Messiah, and the Lord. You and I could preach the gospel for several months of Sundays without exhausting the beauty and truth of these important titles.
Our immediate focus, however, is on the "To" and "From" lines of the original Christmas Gift's "tag."
First, the Gift is from God. This is implicit in the fact that the news is announced by angels and that they and later the shepherds praise God "for all they had heard and seen." Furthermore, in the majestic Isaiah passage, the whole beautiful promise is sealed by this profound guarantee: "The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this."
"The Lord of hosts," of course, carries something of a military connotation in its Old Testament usages. It is a name that conveys the invincible strength and sovereignty of God. And that name, therefore, makes this gift -- so gentle, so humble, so merciful -- all the more remarkable. The Lord of hosts is more than equipped to conquer us; instead, however, his gracious endeavor is to save us.
Which brings us to the "To" line on the tag. This Gift is "to us."
Handel's Messiah makes this element of the good news familiar and memorable to us: "For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given." We rightly emphasize and celebrate that Child, that Son, on this day but heaven forbid that we should overlook the "to us"!
This is a part of the original Isaiah prophecy. While "the people who walked in darkness" may be third-person, arm's-length, at-a-distance, this birth is close-to-home. The reference to the increase and joy of the nation is third-person, as well as are the images of harvesting and plundering. But the prophecy becomes personal when it comes to the child that has been born and the son that has been given. He is "to us."
The personal truth that is anticipated in Isaiah is reiterated by the angels in Luke. The good news was meant "for all the people," to be sure. It was not exclusively for that anonymous group of shepherds. Yet, tellingly, the news of Christ's birth is still personally addressed and applied: "to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior."
As we unwrap the familiar story for our people on this Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, let us be sure to highlight the names on the tag. For the good news that is meant for all people is meant for them one-at-a-time. It is individual, personal. He is born "to us." And he is given "to us."
An Alternative Application
Luke 2:1-14. "The Extra Character." We noted above in our consideration of the gospel lection that there is a kind of extra character in Luke's account of the Christmas story. This individual's name appears more than anyone else in this passage and yet he has no lines and no actions in the story. Indeed, he is not even a contemporary of the event, unlike Joseph, Mary, Augustus, Quirinius, the shepherds, and the baby.
The extra character is David. He is mentioned by name three times in these verses. The town of Jesus' birth is identified by the narrator and the angel as "the city of David." Joseph himself is identified as being "from the house and family of David."
Now, I don't want to be misunderstood on this point. Clearly David is not the central character in the story, and he should not be treated as such. Yet the weight of the evidence in the passages suggests that the One who is the central character is better understood in light of David.
David is a towering figure in the Old Testament. He is chosen by God ahead of his older brothers, as well as in place of the reigning king of Israel, Saul, and his son, Prince Jonathan. He is a hero and exemplar of faith even as a boy, and as a young man he becomes a man of great military leadership and feats. He is the man who conquers Jerusalem for Israel, establishing it as his new capital. Shortly after, David arranges to have the Ark of the Covenant brought to Jerusalem, making it the spiritual capital of the land as well. He is a tremendously successful leader, setting up his son and successor, Solomon, for a truly golden age of large territory, secure borders, and great prosperity.
During his life, David was celebrated as a national hero. After his death, his legend continued to grow. Subsequent kings in Jerusalem were judged as good or bad based on the degree to which they followed David's example. Ultimately, David's name, throne, line, and capital all become thematic in Old Testament prophecies and New Testament expectations about the promised Messiah.
David had been anointed by Samuel to be the second king of Israel and David was so impressed by the significance of being anointed that, even though he was clearly God's chosen successor and the reigning Saul was becoming a personal disaster, David would not harm him specifically because Saul was "the Lord's anointed" (1 Samuel 24:6; 26:9). Several of David's Psalms also emphasize that theme of being "the Lord's anointed."
Of course, the Hebrew word for "anointed" is the source of our English word "Messiah." And the Greek word for "anointed" is where we get the title "Christ." So it is that the poet called Jesus "the Lord's Anointed, great David's greater Son."1 That effectively captures the rich mixture of traditions and expectations that link Jesus to David. For while David is not the central character in the Christmas story, he helps us better understand the One who is.
__________
1. James Montgomery, "Hail to the Lord's Anointed" (United Methodist Hymnal #203).
