Wonderful Counselor

Isaiah 9:6; Luke 2:1-3

November 27, 2016 • Mount Pleasant UMC

William Shakespeare’s famous play Romeo and Juliet contains an often-quoted question, perhaps taken a bit out of context. The question comes in the midst of Act 2, Scene 2 of the play when Juliet calls out to Romeo to deny his name. She argues that it doesn’t matter that their families are rivals, or that his last name is hated by her family. And that’s when she asks this: “What's in a name? that which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet…” The implication, and the meaning we have when we use that phrase, is that the name isn’t what matters. It’s who the person is or what a thing is that counts, whatever it might be called.

Not to question the Bard, but I have to disagree, at least to some extent. I believe names are important. Knowing a person’s name gives you access to that person. Names tell you something about a person or a thing. When Cathy was pregnant with Christopher, we spent quite a long time picking out his name, choosing a name that would mean something because I love the Hebrew tradition of giving a child a name you hope and pray they grow into, a name they can “become.” But we also decided we weren’t going to tell anyone what name we had chosen until he was born. I was a youth pastor at the time, and one of our youth came up to me on a Sunday morning and gave me a 3x5 card, telling me she wanted to help, if we needed it. On the card was a list of I don’t know how many handwritten possible names for Christopher—it covered the back and the front of the card. Nowhere on that card, however, was the name Christopher David.

Regardless of what Juliet believed, names matter. How many of you know what your name means? Were you given names that your parents hoped you would grow into, or significant names from your family history? Until we had kids, I never really thought about the meaning of names, but when they came along, I began to look more closely at the meaning of names. And, as I said, part of that was because we wanted to choose names that meant something. “Christopher” means “Christ bearer,” and “Rachel” means “little lamb” or “lamb of God.” I also began to look at our names and learned that “Cathy” means “pure,” and “Dennis”—well, my name refers to the Greek god of wine, Dionysius. So, yeah, there you go.

Names matter. As we begin this Advent season, as we once again walk through the story of Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem, we’ll likely hear lots of different names for Jesus mentioned, titles that were applied to him at different points in his life. Immanuel, King of Kings, Lord of Lord, Baby of Bethlehem, Son of God, Son of Man. The name the angel told Joseph to give him (cf. Matthew 1:21) was Jesus (or in Hebrew, Joshua), which was a popular name in first-century Judea, but that’s not why he was given this name. The angel told Joseph to call him Jesus because that name means “God saves.” So many names beyond his given name, and tucked into the writings of an Old Testament prophet are four other names the early church saw as applying to Jesus. When Georg Frederich Handel composed his famous work The Messiah, he used this verse, Isaiah 9:6, in part to show the ways the Old Testament prepared the way for the coming of the savior. During this Advent season, we’re going to look at these four names, one each week, as we consider the ways Jesus fulfilled the promise of these names in his own life and how he continues to do so in our own lives. We heard these words earlier in the service, but as we begin to focus on these names, let’s hear them again, the words of Isaiah 9:6: “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”

Like much of the writings of the Old Testament prophets, this passage has a “then and now” meaning to it, meaning that it was a word spoken to and about the people of Isaiah’s time, but the Gospel writers and the early church also saw in it a promise of something even greater than Isaiah’s time. To be sure, Isaiah’s original word was addressed to the people in the eighth century before Christ, and was probably addressed specifically to the new king, Hezekiah. This passage in Isaiah 9 expresses the hope and joy that always come at the beginning of a new ruler, a new leader, something that seems to be true throughout history and across cultures. Author Walter Brueggemann compares the tone of this passage to the celebration that typically takes place at the inauguration of a new president in our country. Isaiah is offering a prayer, a hope for inauguration day and so he expresses great hope that a new ruler, a new king will bring peace, prosperity, and well-being. Isaiah offers hope to a people who have been under a dark cloud of oppression, threatened by unrelenting outside empires. This king, the people believed, would renew their hope and give them endless peace, a time of justice and righteousness that would last forever (cf. Brueggemann, Names for the Messiah, pgs. 1-3). And he will be able to do this because he is the Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, and the Prince of Peace. The people “give” the new king these names in hopes that he will grow into them as a leader.

The first name, the one we want to focus on this morning, is “Wonderful Counselor.” We have trouble understanding that name for a couple of reasons. One, Handel did no one any favors when, in writing The Messiah, he put a comma between “wonderful” and “counselor.” (Incidentally, Matt Redman does the same thing in the theme song we’re using for this series.) But there is no punctuation in the original text, and it makes a whole lot more sense to understand each of these names as a noun plus a modifier; that’s clearly the way the remaining three are written. So “wonderful” describes the type of “counselor” this king will be; “Wonderful” is not a separate name. The other challenge we have here is that we think of “counselor” as a mental health therapist, someone we go to in order to solve life’s problems or to gain some perspective. We think of “counselor” as someone who gives advice or guidance. In fact, it’s around this time of year that I start referring to Cathy as my “wonderful counselor.” But “counselor” in this passage, in this context, would be more in line with the way it’s used in the legal world as lawyers or advisors are often today referred to a “counselors.” In the context of Isaiah’s writing, this word “counselor” originally referred to someone who exercised governance, who was an administrator, who made a plan and carried out the government’s policy. We might call them an “advisor” or even a “secretary” of something in our government. The counselor Isaiah is talking about is someone who will carry out plans that are good for the whole kingdom (Brueggemann 3). But this king will not be just any ordinary counselor. He will be a “wonderful counselor,” which places an expectation on him to be extraordinarily effective in benefitting the kingdom. What he does must be or should be for the people’s good, the nation’s good—maybe even the entire world’s good. He will be a “wonderful counselor.”

So, it’s worth asking just for a moment, how did Hezekiah do? History tells us he did put in place some good policies, that he was able to stand up against one world power, Assyria. But in the end, his reign turned out to be a disappointment as he gave into a different world power, Babylon. It was a time in history when the challenges were so great it was unlikely anyone could have fulfilled all of the people’s expectations—maybe not all that different from our own time, come to think of it. I can’t help but notice that, for the last several presidential elections in our own nation, the country has been sharply divided. Perhaps not as divided as we were and are this year, but divided nonetheless. No candidate has won a mandate or an “out of the park” majority for quite a while. And we are so quickly disappointed. Within weeks of new leadership taking office, we begin to complain that they aren’t fulfilling their promises quickly enough. We place our hopes on earthly leaders, and here’s the brutal truth: they will always disappoint us. I’ll remind you again of Chuck Colson’s words: “Salvation will not come on Air Force One.” It was no different in Isaiah’s time, nor was it any different eight centuries later in Jesus’ time. The world into which Jesus came was a world that was dark, difficult and in desperate need of a wonderful counselor.

Luke is careful to give us the historical setting for Jesus’ birth. He tells us it took place in the days of Caesar Augustus, during the time “when Quirinius was governor of Syria” (2:1-2). He gives us this detail, I think, for a couple of reasons. The first is to remind us that the story he is telling took place in real time, in real places, among real people. Our faith, unlike the ancient Greek and Roman mythologies, is rooted in history. These events took place in a definite time and place—a place you can still go to today, perhaps next June (yes, that was a shameless plug). This isn’t a story about gods and goddesses in some mythical far-off time and place; this is a story about a God who stepped into history, real history, to change the course of our planet. But the second reason he gives us these details is because he knows his readers will understand just what kind of world Jesus is coming into, simply by mentioning the names of the rulers.

Historians have a little bit of trouble lining up the timelines of King Herod, Caesar Augustus and Quirinius, but when they do, we come up with a time for Jesus’ birth somewhere between 6 and 4 B.C. Yes, the calendars we use today are off by a few years because the modern calendar weren’t developed until the 6th century when a monk named Dionysius Exiguus (Latin for “Dennis the Humble”—I like it!) calculated the calendar starting with the birth of Jesus. Unfortunately, as we now know, he guessed wrong so our calendars are off by a few years. Regardless, Jesus was born when Augustus was Caesar or emperor and Herod was king over Israel. We’ll talk more about Herod in a few weeks, but just in case you can’t remember your Roman history, let’s consider the kind of world Augustus led. The name “Augustus” refers to his exalted state; he was known as the “son of god,” because his adopted father, Julius Caesar, had been declared divine by the Roman Senate. Declaration of divinity by a vote of the Senate—how about that? Augustus was, according to reports of the time, inordinately afraid of being struck by lightning, so much so that when a house he was building was struck by lightning, he abandoned the construction and built a different house. He was bloodthirsty and a tyrant, unafraid to have his political rivals killed. As far as his leadership goes, Augustus was busy dismantling the Roman Republic and establishing the Roman Empire; some say he was the first emperor, having made that transition during his reign. And that’s why he is having a census taken, so he can know two things: who is eligible for required military service, and how much he could expect to receive in taxes. The census that Joseph and Mary get caught up in is just one move of many that helped Augustus turn Rome into the most powerful Empire in history (cf. Card, Luke: The Gospel of Amazement, pg. 47; Wright, Luke for Everyone, pgs. 22-23; Barclay, The Gospel of Luke, pg. 20). It was a political situation that many if not most people had accepted as “just the way things are.” In the past, they had tried to rebel, to get rid of Rome, and every time, it had ended in disaster or, when they achieve a brief freedom, they were then reconquered. Though there were pockets of rebellion around, most folks were content to keep their heads down, do what Rome said, and try to get along. They were afraid or unwilling to challenge the powers of the day.

Into that mess, a baby was born. A baby no one really even noticed. It’s doubtful that there was any birth announcement in the local Bethlehem newspaper. He grew up in a town that wasn’t even on any of the local maps (Hamilton, The Journey, pg. 15), a one-horse no-place town that sat in the shadow of a wealthy and prosperous neighboring city. And yet, in that little no-place town of Nazareth, Jesus was growing into a wonderful counselor, a king who would bring about new possibilities, new plans, new directions. When he grew up, he traveled the countryside, touching blind eyes and bringing sight, casting out demons, calming storms and healing fevers. He taught in stories, parables, and wasn’t afraid to stand up to power. One time, when news got out that the local king, Herod Antipas, wanted to kill Jesus, he responded by calling him a name and basically saying, “I’ll keep on driving out demons and healing people and there’s nothing he can do to stop me” (cf. Luke 13:31-32). He challenged those in power in government, and he challenged those in power in religion. He argues with the Pharisees and the Sadducees, two very different groups in Judaism at the time. He told people to follow what the religious teachers taught, but don’t do what they did because they weren’t practicing what they preached (Matthew 23:3). He even challenged the economic status quo when he went—at least once and maybe twice—into the Temple to overturn the tables of the moneychangers and those selling stuff in the place of prayer (cf. John 2:15; Matthew 21:12). Jesus was never content for life to remain “just the way it is,” because, as he said, “I came so they can have real and eternal life, more and better life than they ever dreamed of” (John 10:10, MSG).

Even his birth promised new possibilities. It was not a birth under normal circumstances. Luke tells us about the angel Gabriel who visited a young woman named Mary and told her she would conceive a child when the Holy Spirit “overshadowed” her. We’ll look more at her story in the weeks to come, but suffice it to say even Mary knew this was not how babies usually arrived! And yet, what better way for God to come if he is going to show us the way to new possibilities, new promises? A baby! Is there anything more wondrous than the birth of a baby? Suddenly, a new life is placed in your hands and at that moment, you can’t imagine you could ever love someone so much, someone you had never met until that very moment. I remember that feeling so well when both of my kids were born. And one of my favorite things to do as a pastor is to visit the hospital when new babies are born in the congregation. To hold a newborn is to hold the promise of new possibilities, new life, new hope. Can you just imagine what Mary felt that night, what Joseph thought? New promise, new hope, new life—all of those things tied up in that title, that name, “Wonderful Counselor.” Is it any wonder the early church saw Jesus there in the writings of Isaiah?

So, all of that is true, but does it have anything to do with my life? Let me suggest three ways Jesus as the wonderful counselor should impact our lives. First of all, let’s think about the way we make plans. Yes, the way we make plans, because we do. My experience in twenty-three years of pastoral ministry is that we tend to make plans then pray for God to bless our own plans—and that’s true not only in our church life but also in our personal lives. We gather in church meetings, we work through the agenda, and then we pray, “Lord, bless our efforts.” And that’s not a bad prayer—if the plans we are making are in line with God’s plans for us. Here’s the real question for followers of the Wonderful Counselor: do we ask God for his plans or do we simply ask him to bless what we have already planned? There is an old Yiddish proverb that says, “We plan, God laughs.” The famous theologian Woody Allen put it this way: “If you want to make God laugh, tell him about your plans.” The Wonderful Counselor has wonderful plans for us, but we often don’t ask him what they are.

I grew up hearing the old Campus Crusade mantra from the “Four Spiritual Laws”: “God has a wonderful plan for your life.” And I believe that is true. Like any good father, God does have a plan for his children just as I have plans and hopes and dreams for my own children. But like a good father, God will not force his plans on us. He waits for us to ask, to come to him and seek his guidance. There are a lot of things that happen in the world that are not God’s plan. War, disease, famine, children being abused, women being raped—the list could go on and on. There are things in the world that are the result of sin and brokenness and just outright bad or evil decisions on someone’s part. Now, I want to be clear: God does have an ultimate plan for the world that will be fulfilled. Someday, when this Wonderful Counselor returns, all will be as it should be. But until then, God works out his ultimate plan in the midst of our brokenness, our hardship and the world’s outright evil. God has a plan, but do we look for it? For Jesus to be the Wonderful Counselor to us, we need to come to him, seek his plans for our lives.

How do we know it’s his plan? First of all, it will agree with Scripture. God will never point us to do anything that goes against what he has already revealed. Now, of course, the challenge there is there are some things that aren’t clear in the Bible; there are parts of the Bible that require interpretation and faithful Christians don’t always agree on what those parts mean. However, to paraphrase Mark Twain, there’s plenty we do understand and can agree on. If we’d get busy living that out, we probably wouldn’t have time to worry or argue about the things we don’t understand. So if it’s God’s plan for us, it will agree with what we know of Scripture. It will also bring glory to Jesus. Several years ago, Tony Campolo wrote a book with one of the best titles ever: Following Jesus Without Embarrassing God. Let’s be honest: not all Christians, no matter how good their intentions might seem, bring glory to Jesus by their actions. No matter how much you disagree with a policy or an action by individuals, yelling and screaming and calling people names does not bring glory to Jesus. Some of our Facebook posts or Tweets don’t always bring glory to Jesus; some of the nastiest things I’ve ever seen posted online have come from people who profess to follow the Wonderful Counselor. I know I don’t always get it right either, but you should see the things I thought about posting and stopped myself! I’m a work in progress, as are you. (Sorry if I just blew the image that pastors are perfect! We’re not!) God’s plan for us will align with Scripture and bring glory to Jesus. And if those two things are in place, perhaps the advice of St. Augustine is in order here: love God, and do what you will. In other words, if we love God, we will only want to do what pleases him. Our desires will line up with our love for God. To follow the Wonderful Counselor, we align our lives with his plans.

A Wonderful Counselor, in Isaiah’s time and in Jesus’, would also stand up to injustice and the wrong in the world. The adjective “wonderful” indicates that this counselor wants what is best, what is just, what is right for the world. Again, this flows out of our desire to do in our own lives what God wants. Though we are charged with praying for our national and international leaders, I find that I don’t tend to pray for specific policies or for leaders to decide in a certain way. I pray for what I believe the Bible says is the heartbeat of God: may justice, righteousness and peace prevail. The term “justice” has become rather subjective in our day; we’ve reinterpreted it as “everyone gets whatever they want.” That’s not justice; that’s chaos, which is where we find ourselves very often today. Instead, justice is found in aligning our world with God’s heart—a heart that cares for the poor, the marginalized, the outcast, the stranger, the lost. If there is ever a time of year that calls us to witness against “business as usual,” it’s Advent, the time we remember and focus on the two comings of Jesus: his first, in a humble, poor stable, and his second, when the world will be put to rights. What new possibilities lie ahead as we inaugurate a new president? How committed are we to praying for him? What are the issues in our own community that we can respond to in righteousness and holiness? How can we follow the Wonderful Counselor toward a more just society? 

But, in order to respond in either of those ways, there is a prior response we must have made. You see, the Wonderful Counselor who is coming does not come to leave life as it is, and you don’t have to continue living life as it is. Jesus, the baby of Bethlehem, brings new hope, new possibility, new life—not just for the world, but for you and for me. Have you welcomed the Wonderful Counselor into your life? Have you allowed Jesus to come into your life and transform you from the inside out? You don’t have to wait until you think you’ve got your life together to follow the Wonderful Counselor. He will take you just as you are, but he also loves you too much to leave you that way. As you are beginning to think about what to get your loved ones for Christmas, the best gift you can ever give yourself is actually a gift someone else has already provided for you. It’s what this season is all about, after all. It’s not Santa-mas or shopping-mas or reindeer-mas. It’s Christmas, and Christmas is not truly Christmas unless you have received the baby of Bethlehem, the Christ (cf. Lucado, Because of Bethlehem, iBook version pg. 20). Jesus offers the gift of eternal life to anyone who will ask. This morning, as we begin to pray, if you haven’t invited the Wonderful Counselor to walk with you, to guide your days, there is really no time like the present. Someone will be glad to pray with you here at the steps, if you’d like. But don’t put it off. Let this Advent be a true new beginning for you. Let’s pray.