When I was in seminary, there was a gentleman who used to sit in on some of our Hebrew lectures. He was an orthodox Jewish rabbi, and he had become friends with our Hebrew professor. Out of their relationship, the professor had given him an open invitation to join us. Sometimes, he’d come alone. At other times, he’s have his kids with him. Sometimes, he would sit quietly and listen. Other times, he would offer his own take on a particular passage, albeit from an orthodox Jewish perspective.

On one particular occasion, he came and sat in on a class on the Exegesis of Genesis 1-11. Looking back now, I can’t recall the specific text we were discussing, but the conversation involved the topic of faith, to which this Jewish rabbi inserted a general objection to the idea. According to his orthodox perspective, the Hebrew scriptures never address the concept of “faith” the way Christians like to characterize it. Rather, “faith” according to an orthodox Jewish theology cannot be defined in any other way than that of obedience.

Now, on the one hand, we have to acknowledge the fact that too often faith and obedience are pitted against one another in protestant theology, and one only needs to turn to James 2:14-26 to argue decisively that faith and obedience are two sides of the same spiritual coin.

Nonetheless, the orthodox Jewish conception of faith was much different. What he was describing and advocating for was now a faith working itself out in obedience, but a faith that was synonymous with obedience. In fact, he boldly asserted that no where in the Old Testament (the Hebrew Bible to him) is there is a discussion of faith divorced from a call for obedience.

But of course, he may be right if we define “faith” simply as an intellectual assent to certain theological dogmas. According to that definition, the Bible has little to say about “faith.” But if we understand faith to mean “trust,” well that’s a different story. But that was a concept he couldn’t quite accept, despite the reality that the father of the Hebrew people, Abraham himself, was the one who was commended as one who “believed the LORD, and he counted it to him as righteousness” (Gen 15:6).

That belief was nothing less than a heart-response to trust God’s promise despite the outward circumstances testifying to its impossibility. Later on in the New Testament, Paul would pick up on that statement in Genesis as a key foundational text supporting the theology of justification by faith alone:

What then shall we say was gained by Abraham, our forefather according to the flesh? For if Abraham was justified by works, he has something to boast about, but not before God. For what does the Scripture say? “Abraham believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness.” Now to the one who works, his wages are not counted as a gift but as his due. And to the one who does not work but believes in him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is counted as righteousness. (Romans 4:1-5)

The reality is that there were two radically different perspectives on the concept of “faith” being represented in the classroom that morning. And the juxtaposition of these two perspectives once again highlighted the fundamental issue at the heart of unbelieving Israel:

What shall we say, then? That Gentiles who did not pursue righteousness have attained it, that is a righteousness that is by faith; but that Israel who pursued a lasw that woudl lead to righteousness did not succeed in reaching that law. Why? Because they did not pursue it by faith, but as if it were based on works. They have stumbled over the stumbling stone, as it is written, “Behold, I am laying in Zion a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offense; and whoever believes in him will not be put to shame.” (Romans 9:30-33).

Israel struggled to trust God throughout her long and tenuous history. Perhaps the clearest passage to address this comes in Isaiah 7 when Judah, under the leadership of evil King Ahaz, faced an imminent threat from its northern neighbors, Syria and northern Israel, who had allied together to force out Ahaz as king in order to install their own puppet leader in Jerusalem. The hope was that through a combined Syrian-Israelite-Judahite front, they could stave off the mighty Assyria who was making aggressive overtures of conquest into the south.

As God’s spokesman to the king, Isaiah was sent to console Ahaz and encourage him to rely on the Lord and to not fear the threat before him. He called Israel and Syria “smoldering stumps of firebrands” (7:4). Then the prophet promised in no uncertain terms their plans to oust Ahaz would not succeed, and that Ahaz needed to be firm in faith lest he “not be firm at all” (7:9).

Amazingly, God reinforces this promise with an offer to give the king any sign he wanted. No sign was too impossible…in fact, the more impossible the sign, the more assurance that the promise was guaranteed and the more bolstered his faith would be. But Ahaz didn’t bite. Under the auspices of spiritual piety, he refused to “put the LORD to the test” (7:12), but what that really meant is that he had no intention of trusting God.

Amazingly, God gives him a sign anyway, despite his unbelief. It would be a sign with both positive and negative effects. It would underscore the trustworthiness of God and condemn Ahaz’ faithlessness. A young woman would conceive and give birth to a son, a child who’s name would be “Immanuel,” meaning that the presence of this child would be a sign reminding Judah of God’s presence among them. By the time this child reached the age of maturity, he would live through a time of devastation in the land brought on by the invasion of the Assyrian army. Yet at the same time, before he reached that age, the immediate threat from Syria and Israel would be gone.

Some seven-hundred and thirty years later, the apostle Matthew would write his account of the life and ministry of Jesus. As he narrated the events surrounding the birth of Christ, he saw the grace and the gory of the gospel in this Old Testament text from Isaiah 7. In both times, God’s people faced the threat of foreign oppression and persecution. In both times, they were led by faithless, wicked kings. And in both times, a child was born as a sign of God’s promise to his people.

Yet Matthew saw something greater and more significant that just that. He saw in the details of Christ’s birth and escalation of everything that had gone on in the time of Isaiah. In Isaiah’s time, a young woman conceived. In Jesus’ time, an actual virgin conceives while still remaining a virgin! In Isaiah’s time, God promised to deliver his people from human enemies. In Jesus’ time, God’s promise was to deliver them from a spiritual enemy: sin (cf. Matt 1:21). In Isaiah’s time, “Immanuel” meant that God wouldn’t abandon his people. In Jesus’ time, “Immanuel” meant that God is physically present among his people.

Everything that happened in the time of Isaiah was a prefigurement and a “type,” a “pattern” of what Matthew saw materializing in the birth of Christ, to the point that he saw in it the realization (i.e., “fulfillment”) of that pattern in its fullest in the coming of the Messiah, born a virgin, the promised sign to Israel of God’s protection and deliverance for them.

Yet what remains constant in both Isaiah’s time and Jesus’ time, and continues on to us today is the call to trust. The sign given to Ahaz was given despite his unbelief. The son given to Israel in the birth of Jesus was given despite Israel’s spiritual darkness of legalism and unbelief. They would go on the question and ultimately reject him as their king and as their savior, and crucify him like a criminal. They would, in the end, refuse to trust Jesus, for the reason given by Paul in Romans 11:

They have a zeal for God, but not according to knowledge. For, being ignorant of the righteousness of God, and seeking to establish their own, they did not submit to God’s righteousness. For Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to everyone who believes. (Romans 10:2-4)

That final statement is profoundly important: “Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to everyone who believes.” The reason Israel rejected their Messiah is because they refused to seek after righteousness by faith…through trust. Instead, they sought to seek after it on their own. It was for that reason that Jesus was rejected and killed.

Yet we can’t forget this reality as well. Jesus came in the midst of our own unbelief as well. While we were sinners and still enemies with God, Christ died for us and reconciled us with God (Rom 5:8, 10). Just as he did with Ahaz and Judah, God moved toward us even while we had our backs turned from him.

And just as God intervened and made us alive while we were dead in our trespasses (Eph 2:1, 5), he will do the same thing in the future for his people Israel. There will come a time in the future when Israel will experience the most dire moment of their existence. The entire world will unite together in one great confederation of nations bent on destroying Israel once and for all. They will besiege Jerusalem, take the city, kill and molest its inhabitants (Zech 14:1-2). But in the final moments, when all seems lost, the Lord will appear. He will plant his feet on the Mount of Olives, splitting the entire terrain in two, creating a valley by which Jerusalem may escape (Zech 14:4-5). Then he will judge all the nations in this assault, and will empower his people to gain a victory where, humanly speaking, there should be none. And Judah will say, “The inhabitants of Jerusalem have strength through the LORD of hosts, their God” (Zech 12:5).

But what happens next is the most amazing part. As the nation experiences physical deliverance in those final moments, and the Lord appears in the clouds with great glory (Rev 1:7), he will also give the nation a softness toward him that they’ve never had before. They will “look on him whom they have pierced, and they shall mourn for him, as one mourns for an only child, and weep bitterly over him as one weeps over a firstborn” (Zech 12:10). This is the breaking point for Israel. This is where they finally believe…where trust really begins. With eyes no longer blind, ears no longer heavy, and hearts no longer dull (Isa 6:9-10; cf. Matt 13:14-15; Mark 4:12; Luke 8:10), they will see spiritually for the first time. They will see the one they pierced (John 19:34-37) for who he truly is…Messiah, Immanuel, the sign of God’s presence with them to save them from their sins. They will comprehend for the first time what they have done to their own shepherd and king. And thus, they will mourn. They will mourn like they have never mourned before, because they finally get it.

This is what true faith looks like.

Charles Feinberg put Israel’s final repentance and turning in faith this way:

And let us remember that Isaiah 53 is the inspired confession that repentant Israel will voice on this important occasion. If Calvary be the tragic hour of Israel’s age-long history, then this national Day of Atonement will be the hour of their penitent sorrow to be followed by rejoicings ineffable. In that hour, with enlightened hearts and broken spirits, they will inquire of one another, “Which ones of us believed the report made to us? To which ones of us did the mighty power of God disclose itself? So few of us, because He appeared so lacking in promise; He had no outward attraction that our carnal hearts could then delight in. So we desired Him not, with the result that He was despised and cut off from our company, knowing only griefs and pains, as we went our way turning our gaze from Him. But marvel of it all, He was bearing and enduring our sorrows and our griefs, and all the while we thought He was being stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted because He was so sinful and we so good. No, He was smitten because we were so sinful, for He was wounded because we had transgressed the law and will of God; He was crushed to death because of our iniquitous ways; the scourge of God was upon Him so that we might have spiritual healing and peace with God. We all went senselessly on in our sins, deliberately and wilfully, and God caused to come upon Him as an avalanche the sins of us all. What oppressions and merciless treatment He suffered, yet He endured them so patiently and submissively. And yet we did not lay it to heart that He was suffering all this because it was due us.” (Charles Lee Feinberg, “Exegetical Studies in Zechariah,” Bibliotheca Sacra 102 [1945]: 428–429.)

But in the meantime, Israel remains hardened. They remain faithless. And it just goes to show how desperately blind and ignorant and helpless we are in our sins unaided by the sovereign, gracious intervention of God.

This Christmas, as we celebrate the incarnation of the Son of God, remember that it is a sign signaling that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. That God made the first move. And remember that his coming is a sign that God is with us, and his promises are irrevocable. And as such, it is a call for each one of us to trust. Trust in his goodness. Trust in his grace. Trust that he has taken care of our sin on the cross. And trust that all of history and all of the future is moving toward his good and sovereign purposes for those who love him, who are called according to his purposes (Rom 8:29).