People Walking in Darkness

Imagine the darkest night you have ever known. No moon. No stars. You cannot see your own hand. Now imagine a light breaking over the hills. Not a candle. A great light, flooding the whole land.

Isaiah is speaking in Jerusalem, about seven hundred years before Jesus. Up north, the land of Galilee has suffered terribly. The tribal lands of Zebulun and Naphtali, around the Sea of Galilee, were the first to fall when the armies of Assyria swept in. Towns were burned. Many people were taken away as captives to Assyria. Foreigners were settled in their place. Galilee became known as Galilee of the nations, a mixed, mournful borderland. In the chapter just before, Isaiah describes people wandering in distress and hunger, looking up and looking down and seeing only gloom. Then, out of that darkness, God gives Isaiah a song of hope.

“Nevertheless, there shall be no more gloom for her who was in anguish.” In the past, God humbled the land of Zebulun and Naphtali. But in the future he will make it glorious, by the way of the sea, beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the nations. And then: “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light. Those who lived in the land of the shadow of death, on them the light has shined.” The very place that suffered first will see the light first. And the light brings joy. Isaiah says it will be like the joy of harvest time, when the crops are gathered in. Like the joy of soldiers dividing up treasure after a victory.

Why such joy? Because the oppression is broken. Isaiah says God will break the yoke of their burden, the wooden bar oppressors laid across their shoulders, as he did on the day of Midian. That was the day, long before, when Gideon and just three hundred men saw a huge enemy army run in panic. Then every boot of the marching soldier, and every garment rolled in blood, will be burned as fuel for the fire. No more war gear needed. The enemy's equipment goes on the bonfire. But how will all this happen? Through an army? Through a mighty hero?

No. Through a baby. “For to us a child is born. To us a son is given; and the government will be on his shoulders.” The shoulders that once carried the oppressor's yoke now see a child who carries the government. “His name will be called Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” Four names. A counsellor whose wisdom is wonderful. A God who is mighty. A father who never ends. A prince who brings peace. “Of the increase of his government and of peace there shall be no end, on David's throne, and on his kingdom.” And who will make it happen? Isaiah's last line: The zeal of the Lord of armies will perform this. God's own passion will do it. Seven centuries later, a man from Nazareth went to live in Capernaum, a fishing town by the Sea of Galilee, in the old lands of Zebulun and Naphtali. And Matthew says: the people which sat in darkness saw great light.

Isaiah's picture of Galilee's darkness matches history. Second Kings records that in the days of King Pekah of Israel, the Assyrian king Tiglath-pileser came and took the towns of Galilee, all the land of Naphtali, and carried the people captive to Assyria. Historians date this campaign to around seven hundred and thirty-two before Christ. Galilee was the first part of Israel to go into the dark.

People walking in darkness. You'll find it in Isaiah chapter nine, verses one to seven. Where the shadow fell first, the light shone first: a child born, a son given, the Prince of Peace. So here is a question to carry with you. Is there a dark place in your life, or in someone you know, where you could ask Jesus to bring his light?