The day of his coming
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Imagine the day of his coming?

Isaiah gives many descriptions of the Messiah.

  • A lone warrior, defeating his enemies single-handed
  • A conquering king at the head of a vast, heavenly army
  • An established ruler who’s domain and reach increase forever
  • One with many grand names and lofty titles
  • etc…

But sometimes, Isaiah’s descriptions defy imagination.

The first four verses of chapter 42 are an astounding foreshadowing of the Jesus we know well, but to those who lived so many centuries before its fulfilment, his description must have perplexed them beyond any wheels-within-wheels or angels covered in eyes.

Little wonder they longed to see The Day!

ChatGPT can imagine a Messiah…

CHatGPT imagines the Messiah at the head of a vast angelic force

( No idea what the wings are about :-/ )

But the Messiah presented in these four short verses must have left Isaiah’s readers and hearers speechless.

How could one that gentle bring justice to our selfish, brutish, bloodthirsty, rebel planet?

And then one day – the day of his coming – it came to pass…

A Shepherd and a child share bread

Outrageous Paraphrase Poetry #1

For best results…
take a long, deep breath…
and read slowly…
out loud…


The Day Of His Coming

Isaiah 42:1-4

Behold!…

My servant!

I chose him
I uphold him
My soul delights in him

I blew on him
I breathed on him

My justice flows from him
My justice flows out far from him
My justice spreads and flows from him
As far as Gentile lands

Can you imagine it?
The day of His coming?

I tell you, you cannot

You pine to hear the cries of war
You hope to hear bones break
You long to see the light of life
Snuffed out

No, you can’t imagine Him!

For it’s not by might
And it’s not by power
I told you: I have breathed on him

But listen, if you will
And picture, if you can

The day
Of his coming
Will appear
Like this:

He won’t cry out in your marketplaces
He won’t shout aloud in your open spaces
He won’t need to raise his voice

A bruis├ęd reed he will not break
A fading wick he’ll not snuff out

But my justice he’ll still mete out
Won’t bend or break
Won’t be snuffed out

At least
Until justice
Has a foothold
On the earth

Already
Distant shores
Long for his coming
Hope in his justice
Pine for his word