Advent gets me through the winter.

Now, the Minnesota winters are nothing to trifle with. They can last a full four months, sometimes five. Before long, these winters feel like half the year. Yet even as a South Carolina native, I endure them well enough with the help of a good Advent.

The light and warmth of a Christian December go a long way in taking the edge off these long, dark, cruel winters. Before long, it’s January. Yes, two frigid months still lie ahead. However, year after year, I find that a good, deliberate, relished spiritual journey up to Christmas helps shorten the winter up here in the northern latitudes.

Marvels of the One Who Comes

One of the best ways to savor the Advent season is to linger over the striking glories of those many Old Testament prophecies that anticipated the coming of Christ. We have our beloved passages from Isaiah, and one we often reach for, from his contemporary, is Micah 5:2–5.

Like Isaiah, Micah writes some seven centuries before the coming of Christ. God gave him a glimpse, and put a word in his mouth, that would feed God’s people for seven hundred years with well-founded hope. Still today these verses confirm for the church the power of our God and his word, with the majesty and humility of Christ.

The wonders of our God, and his sending his own Son at Christmas, are far past finding out. Yet even here, in a prophecy that predates the first Christmas by seven hundred years, we glimpse three stunning glories of the one who “comes forth” at Christmas, the one we await again each Advent.

1. He Comes from Modest Stock

We might be so familiar with the name Bethlehem that we miss the wonder of it. It may not have been the tiny backwater that Nazareth was, but it was modest, even with its regal overtones.

“One of the best ways to savor Advent is to pause over the striking glories of the main prophecies that anticipated Christ’s coming.”

Originally known as Ephrath (Genesis 35:16, 19; 48:7), it was first remembered in ancient Israel as the burial place of Jacob’s beloved wife, Rachel, who died giving birth to Benjamin. Later, after centuries in Egypt, the wilderness wandering, and the nation’s establishment in the promised land, the town was known as Bethlehem during the period of judges and subsequently.

But the city’s associations with Rachel were eclipsed when Israel’s second king, and greatest sovereign, came to the throne around 1000 BC. Then the little town was exalted with its shepherd of humble origin. So Micah prophecies,

you, O Bethlehem Ephrathah,
     who are too little to be among the clans of Judah,
from you shall come forth for me
     one who is to be ruler in Israel . . . (Micah 5:2)

The first glory of the one coming forth is that he comes from Bethlehem. In Micah’s day, God had already done this once with David — the shepherd rising to the throne. Now, some three centuries later, the prophet tells of another ruler who will arise, and ascend, like David, and from David’s own line and town. In fact, God had promised this, in essence, to David during his lifetime:

I will raise up your offspring after you, who shall come from your body, and I will establish his kingdom. . . . And your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me. Your throne shall be established forever. (2 Samuel 7:12–16)

David’s son Solomon was a first fulfillment of the prophecy, but he too, like his father, died. He could not reign forever. What this first glimpse from Micah establishes (at minimum) is not only the Coming One’s pedigree in David’s line, but also his humanity. Clearly, the one coming forth will be human, David’s own offspring, and, for all his majesty, a human ruler (“descended from David according to the flesh,” Romans 1:3).

Besides, why would anyone anticipate this coming Messiah could be anything other than human? Still, the prophet, speaking on God’s behalf, gives another glimpse in the next line.

2. He Comes from Ancient Times

What the prophet says next might lead us to wonder if the little town is not the Messiah’s origin but his portal. He comes from Bethlehem, yes, yet also through Bethlehem:

. . . from [Bethlehem] shall come forth for me
     one who is to be ruler in Israel,
whose coming forth is from of old,
     from ancient days . . . (Micah 5:2)

He is from Bethlehem, yet not ultimately from Bethlehem. Rather, mysteriously, this coming one is “from of old, from ancient days.” He is a human ruler, descended from David, and rising up like David from a modest upbringing, but he is more than a human king. And this is not David reincarnate, or some ancient champion, back from the grave — or even an angel in human flesh. This is somehow the Ancient of Days himself, the only one who truly is “of old” — God himself come as man, through the portal of Bethlehem, to rule as man. Bethlehem is his threshold; an unwed maiden his door; but his origin is divine, before the foundation of the world.

3. He Comes to Shepherd with Strength

Still, Micah forecasts more. Yes, he is fully man, and yet somehow also divine — both God and also somehow man. But Micah tells us not just his essence but his manner, not only who will rule but how he will reign:

And he shall stand and shepherd his flock in the strength of the Lord,
     in the majesty of the name of the Lord his God.
And they shall dwell secure, for now he shall be great
     to the ends of the earth.
And he shall be their peace. (Micah 5:4–5)

This is exceedingly good news for his flock, his people — and horribly bad news for their enemies.

He will “shepherd his flock,” says Micah, a picture of compassion and concern, loving provision and protection. And he will do so “in the strength of the Lord.” In other words, he will be a strong shepherd, strong enough that his flock might dwell secure under his rule and enjoy real peace in him — and this will mean the opposite for the foes of his flock.

That their shepherd is strong is ominous for their enemies. And that their shepherd is strong is a sweet balm for his people: “they shall dwell secure . . . he shall be their peace.”

Peace to His People

The coming of such peace, in the Strong Shepherd, to the ends of the earth, is a stunning Christmas declaration. Still today, these living words in an ancient prophet are an invitation to all, to any who would bow to embrace the God-man. But these words are not a promise to all. They are a promise of peace to those who receive him, even as they are a portentous warning to those who will not bow.

When he comes, the multitude of the heavenly host say,

Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased! (Luke 2:14)

His advent will not mean peace for unrepentant rebels. But for his flock, his happy subjects, his glad worshipers, his dear friends, his second coming will bring the peace and final safety for which our souls have always ached — a grace truly worthy of the phrase “eternal security.”

And till then, we wait — even and especially in winter — feeding, as our forebears did, on the light and warmth of his promised Advent.