Redefining Mighty
Isaiah 9:1-7
Redefining Might: A Journey from Manger to Throne
In a world that often equates might with physical strength, economic power, or technological prowess, we are called to reconsider our definition of true might. As we approach the Advent season, it's time to reflect on a revolutionary concept of might – one that began in a humble manger and culminated on a heavenly throne.
The story begins with a prophecy in Isaiah, speaking of a child to be born, a son to be given. This child would bear titles that seem contradictory at first glance: Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. How could a child embody such power and gentleness simultaneously? This prophecy challenged the conventional understanding of might, setting the stage for a redefinition that would shake the foundations of human perception.
Fast forward to the New Testament, and we see this prophecy fulfilled in the most unexpected way. The Mighty God doesn't arrive with fanfare or military strength. Instead, He enters the world as a vulnerable infant, born to a virgin in a humble stable. This is our first lesson in redefining might – true strength often comes wrapped in humility and vulnerability.
As we journey through the life of Jesus, we see countless examples of this redefined might. When faced with opposition, Jesus doesn't retaliate with force. Instead, He responds with wisdom, love, and often, silence. He teaches us to turn the other cheek, to go the extra mile, to forgive seventy times seven. These teachings fly in the face of worldly might, yet they carry a power that has transformed millions of lives over two millennia.
Consider the scene where children approach Jesus. His disciples, operating under the world's definition of might and importance, try to shoo them away. But Jesus rebukes them, saying, "Let the little children come to me." In this moment, we see might redefined as accessibility, gentleness, and love for the least of these.
The ultimate display of this redefined might comes at the cross. Here, the Mighty God allows Himself to be crucified, appearing weak and defeated in the eyes of the world. But this seeming defeat becomes the most powerful act in history, conquering sin and death itself. The resurrection that follows is the ultimate testimony to this new definition of might – a might that can overcome even death.
As we reflect on this journey from manger to cross to empty tomb, we are challenged to reconsider our own understanding of might. How often do we, like the disciples, try to fight fire with fire? How often do we raise our voices when others shout, thinking volume equals strength? How often do we seek retribution instead of offering forgiveness?
The call is clear – we need to redefine mighty in our own lives. This redefinition might look like:
Responding to anger with calm and understanding
Choosing to serve rather than be served
Forgiving instead of retaliating
Giving more and taking less
Valuing humility over pride
Showing strength through gentleness
This new definition of might is not weakness. On the contrary, it requires immense strength – the kind of strength that can only come from a deep connection with the Mighty God Himself. It's a might that absorbs the blows of the world and transforms them into love and redemption.
As we approach this Advent season, let's challenge ourselves to embody this redefined might. When family gatherings become tense, choose peace over being right. When the pressures of the season mount, respond with joy and generosity instead of stress and irritation. When the world seems dark, be a light that shines all the brighter.
Remember the vision from Revelation 5 – the Lion of Judah who appears as a Lamb that was slain. This powerful image encapsulates the paradox of godly might. The One who is powerful enough to open the sealed scroll appears not as a roaring lion, but as a sacrificial lamb. This is the might we are called to emulate – power clothed in sacrifice and love.
As we prepare our hearts for Christmas, let's meditate on the words of the prophet Isaiah:
"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."
Let these titles sink deep into our souls, challenging our preconceptions and reshaping our understanding of true might. May we, like the shepherds and wise men of old, come to worship this Mighty God who chose to make Himself vulnerable for our sake.
This Christmas, as we gaze upon nativity scenes and sing carols about the baby in the manger, let's remember that we're looking at the most powerful force in the universe – love incarnate, might redefined. And let's ask ourselves: How can we reflect this might in our own lives? How can we, like our Savior, be both strong and gentle, powerful and humble, mighty and merciful?
As we close, let's commit to being bearers of this redefined might in our homes, workplaces, and communities. Let's be people who respond to hatred with love, to violence with peace, to despair with hope. For in doing so, we reflect the true nature of our Mighty God – the one who conquered not through force, but through sacrificial love.
May this Advent season be a time of transformation, as we learn to embody the might of the manger, the cross, and the empty tomb. And may our lives become living testimonies to the power of a Mighty God who chose to make Himself small, so that we might become truly great in Him.