To Us a Son Is Given

Christmas, perhaps more than any other holiday, reminds us of the ultimate expression of God’s desire to be with us. God came down to dwell with his people in the Person of his Son.

When I’m out sharing the gospel with Orthodox Jewish people on the street, however, this point is one of their most frequent objections. They’ll say, “God doesn’t have a son.”

In response, we always open the Bible to show them that the promise of God’s Son is something we see repeatedly in the Hebrew Scriptures.

One of the most striking prophecies comes from Isaiah, chapter 9. Isaiah begins by painting a grim portrait of devastation and judgment for the people of Israel. They are described as a people walking in darkness, distressed and oppressed. But into that darkness comes a striking promise of hope.

For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his government and of peace there will be no end, on the throne of David and over his kingdom, to establish it and to uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time forth and forevermore. (Isaiah 9:6–7)

Many rabbinic scholars have argued against the messianic interpretation of this verse. They say that the son being described is King Hezekiah, who was a king in the line of David. That arguably fits the immediate context of the passage. But there are aspects of this promised son that simply could not have been fulfilled by Hezekiah or any ordinary human being.

Isaiah gives this son four remarkable titles.

Isaiah tells us this son would be a ruler. He would sit on David’s throne. He would bring justice and righteousness. His kingdom would bring peace. And he would do all of this forever. Earthly kings come and go. Governments rise and fall. Even the greatest human leaders eventually pass from the scene. But Isaiah describes a kingdom and a ruler whose reign will have no end.

And then Isaiah gives this son four remarkable titles: Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Rabbinic scholars today often argue that this should not be translated as titles. Instead, they suggest they are statements about God, something like, “Wonderful in Counsel is the mighty God, the everlasting Father, the Prince of peace.” However, there have also been non-messianic Jewish interpreters who understood the words as titles. For instance, Deuteronomy Rabbah (c. AD 900) says that “the Messiah is called by eight names,” including Wonderful, Counselor, God, Hero, and Eternal Father of Peace. And no matter how it’s translated, it still gives us a picture of One who is far more than a mere human king.

Think about those words.

Wonderful Counselor (פֶּלֶא יֹועֵץ֙ | Pele Yōw‘ets)

Yeshua was the wisest person who ever walked the earth. His counsel was not merely good or insightful; it was wondrous. He never wrote a single book. Yet two thousand years later, his teaching continues to shape millions of lives and remains at the apex of spiritual and moral wisdom.

Mighty God (אֵ֣ל גִּבּ֔וֹר | El Gibōr)

The God of creation; the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; the God of Israel and the nations is powerful enough to create the universe. Yet he is close enough to know our hearts and tender enough to comfort us in any circumstance.

Everlasting Father ( אֲבִיעַ֖ד | Avi‘ad )

This is a relational term that speaks of care and protection. Human fathers do not live forever, and they can fail us. Yet God’s care for his people is not temporary. He does not abandon us when circumstances become difficult.

Prince of Peace (שַׂר־שָׁלֽוֹם | Sar Shalōm)

This is not simply the absence of conflict, but shalom: the restoration and wholeness that only God can ultimately bring.

By emphasizing these exalted titles of the Messiah to come, Isaiah was giving hope to people who desperately needed it. In Isaiah’s time, our people were living with war, oppression, and uncertainty. And the prophet pointed them toward the presence of God in the midst of it.

Many Jewish people have asked, “Where is the peace this ruler was meant to bring?” From Isaiah’s day to the present, our people have experienced more than our share of suffering. We should never minimize that suffering or offer simplistic answers for it. Instead, we point people to the biblical answer to all suffering.

God does not merely observe human suffering from a distance—he enters into it.

In the Scriptures, we encounter a God who is intimately involved in the lives of his people. When Hagar was alone and afraid in the wilderness, God saw her, and she called him El Roi, “the God who sees me” (Genesis 16:7–13). When Hannah wept in anguish because she could not have a child, God heard her prayer, and so she named her son Shmuel, “the God who hears” (1 Samuel 1:10–20). When Israel suffered under slavery in Egypt, God told Moses, “I have surely seen the affliction of my people … and have heard their cry” (Exodus 3:7). He is a God who hears. A God who sees. A God who cares.

The child Isaiah promised came to deal with the deepest darkness of all: the sinfulness that separates us from God.

And ultimately, he is a God who is with us. Yeshua knew hunger and exhaustion. He knew rejection and grief. He wept. He was betrayed. He experienced injustice. And he suffered and died. But his suffering was not the end of the story. The child Isaiah promised came to deal with the deepest darkness of all: the sinfulness that separates us from God. Yeshua came not simply to sympathize with our suffering but to restore us to the relationship with God for which we were created.

More than anything, the prophets and the Christmas story tell us that the God who made us has not abandoned us. When we walk through darkness, he walks with us. That is the hope of Christmas. The child was born. The Son was given. And through him, God came near.