I’m not sure that I have only one “favorite Old Testament story,” as that book of scripture is filled with accounts and teachings that have meaning or memory for me at different times in my life.
For instance, the account of Elisha, his bald head and the she-bears described in 2 Kings 2:23-24 will always bring a smile to my face because of the way in which my kids laughed at the outrageousness of the story (one of my boys would later draw this account — I think I still have the picture on the door of my office).
The Creation and Garden of Eden narratives continue to be profound in their significance, both in terms of understanding the nature of God’s work and my own spiritual development.
Yet if I’m forced to choose, I’d probably pick Isaiah 7-8. The chapters recount Isaiah’s interactions with Ahaz, king of Judah. The narrative is placed with the historical context of what is referred to as the Syro-Ephraimite conflict, which is itself related to the larger context of the neo-Assyrian Empire and its expansion into the Levant. The strength of the Assyrians was such that none of the smaller nations could withstand an Assyrian onslaught on their own and therefore believed their survival depended on the creation of coalitions to match the Assyrian might.
According to the biblical accounts in 2 Kings and 2 Chronicles, one such coalition — the kingdom of Syria and the northern kingdom of Israel, led by Rezin and Pekah, respectively — attacked Judah under the reign of Ahaz, presumably with the intent to install a new king who would have been willing to enter into their coalition. It is here where Isaiah’s account begins.
Isaiah 7
Isaiah 7 opens with Ahaz being informed that “Syria is confederate with Ephraim,” which led him and “the heart of his people” to tremble and shake “as the trees of the wood are moved with the wind” (verse 2). To address this crisis, the Lord tells Isaiah to take his son Shear-Jashub and meet Ahaz “at the end of the conduit of the upper pool in the highway of the fuller’s field” (verse 3). Unfortunately, it is unclear exactly where this was in Jerusalem, but wherever it was, when Isaiah got there with his son he gave the following prophetic advice: “Take heed, and be quiet; fear not, neither be fainthearted” (verse 4). The context, of course, was the presumed threat of Syria and Israel, but what I find significant is how applicable the instruction is today.
Like ancient Judah, we are often overwhelmed by what appear to be insurmountable, and inevitable, crises. Yet, if we “take heed, and be quiet; [and] fear not,” we might find our challenges to be less formidable than they may appear.
Like Syria and Israel, referred to by the prophet as “smoking firebrands” (verse 4), these situations may be more smoke than fire. Telling the difference between the two, though, can be difficult. This is where the instruction comes in. Taking “heed” means to be observant, to be aware, even to discern, all of which can be enhanced by the Spirit, which, Jacob observes, “speaketh of things as they really are, and of things as they really will be” (Jacob 4:13).
In the context of Isaiah 7, understanding how little a threat Syria and Israel really were compared to the “smoke” they gave off would have been a relief to Ahaz. So too can all of us receive the divine perspective, see the big picture or recognize the long game, putting our challenges into their proper perspective.
Doing so can lead to peace, or being “quiet.” Though it is not as clear in the English, the original Hebrew of “be quiet” is causative rather than passive, meaning one could translate it “cause quiet” or “find rest,” something that can be done by truly discerning one’s situation in relation to the divine will.
As for God’s command to “fear not,” this is found throughout the Old Testament often directly followed by a promise that God was aware of, watching over and taking care of the individual. In Isaiah 7, God promised Ahaz that the plans of Rezin and Pekah would “not stand, neither [would] it come to pass” (verse 7). In similar manner, we too are promised that God is with us and therefore we need not fear.
Of course, trusting in such promises is not always the easiest to do, especially when we do not know the timing of their fulfillment. Ahaz was told that within “threescore and five years” the threat would be over (Isaiah 7:8), but it appears that the Lord knew this did not address Ahaz’s immediate concerns. So, to provide a reason to trust Him, God told Ahaz he could ask any sign “either in the depth, or in the height above” that would serve as evidence to God’s fulfilling of His promises (verse 11).
In this, one may recognize the principle of faith. Too often faith is understood as a lack of knowledge. But it may be better to understand faith as the knowledge that God will fulfill his promises because of those He has fulfilled in the past. In other words, the “sign” would have provided Ahaz immediate knowledge that God was with him, allowing him to trust in God as to what He said He would do. So too we often receive our own signs, those tender mercies, that reveal that God is still with us even if His promises are not fully realized yet.
Unfortunately, Ahaz did not take up God’s offer, so God gave His own sign instead: “Behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel. … Before the child shall know to refuse the evil, and choose the good, the land that thou abhorrest shall be forsaken of both her kings” (verses 14, 16).
Most readers of the Bible are familiar with the New Testament fulfillment of this prophecy, with Matthew interpreting the birth of Christ of Mary through these verses. Yet, it also seems that it was meant to be a contemporary prophecy for Ahaz, the Hebrew word for “virgin” meaning simply a “young woman” often of marriageable age. From this perspective, Ahaz was told that a child would be born in his lifetime and that within the first decade of that child’s life, the kings of the two nations causing trouble would be gone. The child’s name, Immanuel, means “God with us,” highlighting the manner by which God’s sign was to indicate the promise. As to the significance of the child, it is best understood through the next child’s name.
Isaiah 8
Isaiah 8 opens with God revealing to Isaiah a name, Maher-shalal-hash-baz, which means something like “quickly is the plunder, hastening is the spoil,” an apparent reference to the imminent threat of the Assyrians: “for before the child shall have knowledge to cry, My father, and my mother, the riches of Damascus and the spoil of Samaria shall be taken away before the king of Assyria” (verse 4).
While the explanation explicitly references the more immediate problem of Syria and Israel, Judah is also told that because they did not “go softly” (taking heed and being quiet?) but instead “rejoiced” in the downfall of Rezin and Pekah, the Assyrians would invade Judah like a flood: “the waters of the river, strong and many, even the king of Assyria … shall pass through Judah; he shall overflow and go over” (verses 6-8). And just as in the earlier crisis, God promised that if Judah trusted in Him, He would be there for them.
A few verses later, the Lord would tell Isaiah that he and his sons were given as “signs and for wonders in Israel from the Lord of hosts” (verse 18). Certainly, Isaiah’s prophetic responsibilities blessed Israel, but the mention of “sons” suggests that Isaiah’s sons may be identified with all three names, with the names themselves acting as a complete prophecy promise.
To put it another way, one can read all three names as parts of a prophecy. Beginning with the youngest, one may read “Maher-shalal-hash-baz,” or in other words, “bad things will happen and may happen quickly,” but “Immanuel” (“God is with us”), therefore “Shear-jashub.” Often forgotten in light of the significance of the younger sons, Isaiah’s oldest son’s name may be the most significant, “a remnant shall return,” a simple but profound promise of redemption.
The divine promises reflected in the names of Isaiah’s sons hold as true today as they did in the eighth century B.C.E. We all have our fires and floods that confront us. Sometimes they are unexpected; sometimes we, like Ahaz, bring them on ourselves. And sometimes we can’t tell the smoke from the flame. But in these instances, we can know that God is with us, and by putting our trust in Him, we may know that redemption is coming — will always come. In light of this promise, then, all we need to learn is how to “take heed, and be quiet; [and] fear not.”
— Dan Belnap is a professor of ancient scripture at Brigham Young University.
