The Story of Rescue: 1st Sunday of Advent

[Note: This is Part 1 of “The Story of Rescue,” an Advent series exploring the biblical narrative of God’s rescue plan through Jesus Christ.]

We live in a world perpetually waiting for rescue. Every news cycle brings fresh reminders of humanity’s brokenness—violence, injustice, disease, natural disasters. We long for things to be made right, for suffering to end, for peace to prevail. But we’ve grown cynical about solutions. Political promises fail. Social movements disappoint. Scientific advances create new problems even as they solve old ones. Deep down, we know that what’s wrong with the world is something no human power can fix.

This universal longing for rescue isn’t new. It’s as old as humanity itself, woven into the fabric of our existence from the moment sin entered the world. And it’s precisely this longing that the Advent season addresses. As we prepare to celebrate Christ’s birth, we’re not just remembering a historical event– we’re recognizing the fulfillment of the deepest human need, a need that had been building for thousands of years.

The beginning of the longing

The story of rescue begins, ironically, with a curse. In Genesis 3, after Adam and Eve’s rebellion plunged creation into chaos, God pronounced judgment. But woven into that judgment was a promise:

I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and her offspring; he shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise his heel. (Gen. 3:15)

This cryptic statement is the first gospel promise in Scripture. In the midst of pronouncing consequences for sin, God declared that one day, the offspring of the woman would crush the serpent’s head. Yes, this promised deliverer would suffer in the process (“you shall bruise his heel”), but ultimately he would triumph over the evil that had infected humanity. From that moment forward, humanity waited. And as the centuries unfolded, that waiting grew more desperate.

The deepening darkness

The biblical narrative after Genesis 3 is a story of compounding failure. Abraham’s family becomes enslaved in Egypt. The exodus brings temporary hope, but the people rebel repeatedly in the wilderness. They enter the promised land, but the cycle of sin, judgment, and temporary deliverance continues through the period of the judges. The monarchy begins with promise but ends in division and exile. Even when a remnant returns to rebuild Jerusalem, they remain under foreign domination.

With each failure, with each disappointment, with each generation that lived and died without seeing lasting deliverance, the longing intensified. Where was the promised offspring? When would rescue come? How much longer would God’s people wait in darkness?

The Old Testament prophets gave voice to this longing, but they did more than that. They clarified it, shaped it, and ultimately revealed that what Israel truly needed was far greater than political freedom or national prosperity. They needed a deliverer who could address the deepest problem of all–the human heart.

The prophetic promises

Into this darkness, God spoke promises through his prophets. These weren’t vague reassurances or empty platitudes. They were specific, detailed descriptions of a coming deliverer who would finally set things right.

The light in the darkness

Isaiah painted perhaps the most vivid picture:

The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shined . . . 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. (Isa. 9:2, 6-7)

Notice the progression in Isaiah’s prophecy. First comes the image – light breaking into darkness. Then the surprising announcement that this light will come through a child, a son. But this is no ordinary child. He will be called “Mighty God” and “Everlasting Father.” He will establish an eternal kingdom marked by justice and righteousness.

Here’s what makes this promise so remarkable: Isaiah wasn’t just predicting a better king or a temporary relief from oppression. He was announcing that God himself would come to rescue His people. The light that would pierce the darkness wouldn’t be human wisdom–it would be the very presence of God breaking into human history.

The humble king

Micah added another crucial detail about where this deliverer would come from:

But 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, whose coming forth is from of old, from ancient days. (Mic. 5:2)

Bethlehem was insignificant, a small village with no political importance. Yet from this unlikely place would come the eternal ruler. The pattern is already beginning to emerge: God’s rescue would come in ways that confounded human expectations. The world expected power, prominence, and political might, but God was planning something radically different.

What rescue really requires

As the prophets spoke, their words revealed something crucial about the nature of the problem and the solution required. Israel’s fundamental problem wasn’t foreign domination. It was their own rebellious hearts. No amount of political freedom would fix what was wrong if their hearts remained unchanged.

This is why Jeremiah spoke of a new covenant, one where God would write his law on people’s hearts (Jer. 31:31-34). This is why Ezekiel promised that God would give his people new hearts and put his Spirit within them (Ezek. 36:26-27). The coming deliverer wouldn’t just defeat external enemies—he would transform people from the inside out.

Our continuing need

Here’s where the Advent story intersects with our lives today. We still live in darkness. Oh, the darkness looks different than it did in ancient Israel. We have electricity, technology, and medical advances they couldn’t imagine. But we still experience the same deep darkness of the soul that no amount of human progress can dispel.

We still try to find significance and security in all the wrong places. We build our lives around careers, relationships, possessions, and achievements, hoping they’ll satisfy the longing in our hearts. But like the Israelites waiting for deliverance, we find that nothing we pursue can fix what’s fundamentally broken within us.

The darkness we experience isn’t just external circumstances gone wrong–it’s the condition of the human heart attempting to live independently of God. We’re designed to find our deepest satisfaction in relationship with our Creator, but sin has severed that connection. We’re like branches cut off from the vine, trying desperately to produce fruit on our own.

This is why we need the same rescue that Israel needed. We need someone who can address not just the symptoms of our problem but the root cause. We need hearts transformed, not just circumstances improved. We need light that can penetrate the deepest darkness, not just illuminate the surface.

The waiting that shapes us

The centuries-long wait that Israel experienced wasn’t wasted time. God was preparing his people to understand what kind of deliverer they truly needed. Every failed king revealed the need for a perfect king. Every broken covenant highlighted the need for a new covenant. Every prophet’s message pointed forward to the one who would finally accomplish what all the others could only foreshadow.

The waiting was difficult. Generations lived and died without seeing the fulfillment of the promise. But the waiting wasn’t empty. It was purposeful, teaching God’s people to look beyond temporary solutions to the ultimate rescue that only God himself could provide.

We, too, live in a time of waiting. Christ has come, defeating sin and death through his death and resurrection. But we still await his return, when he will finally and fully restore all things. In this “already but not yet” tension, we experience both the joy of rescue accomplished and the longing for rescue completed.

This Advent season, we have the privilege of looking back at how God fulfilled his ancient promises and looking forward to how he will fulfill his future ones. We stand between the two advents–the first in Bethlehem, the second still to come–and we learn what it means to wait with hope.

The difference hope makes

But our waiting is fundamentally different from Israel’s waiting before Christ. They waited in anticipation for a promised deliverer they’d never seen. We wait in confident expectation because we’ve already seen how God keeps his promises. The child born in Bethlehem proved that God doesn’t abandon his people in their darkness. The cross and empty tomb proved that God’s rescue is far more comprehensive and powerful than anyone imagined.

So as we enter this Advent season, we do so not as those groping in darkness with no certainty of light, but as those who have seen the light and now wait for it to fill all creation. We know that the longing that has marked humanity since Genesis 3 has been addressed. We know that the rescue we desperately need has been accomplished.

And yet, we still long. We long for the day when every tear will be wiped away, when death will be no more, when the knowledge of the Lord will cover the earth as the waters cover the sea. We long for the fullness of what Christ’s first advent initiated and his second advent will complete.

Application points

Recognize your deepest longing: Take time this week to identify what you’re truly longing for beneath the surface of your daily concerns. Examine whether you’re looking to something other than God to provide the significance and security only he can give.

Examine your attempted rescues: Reflect on what solutions you’re pursuing to fix what’s broken in your life. Consider how you might be seeking rescue from circumstances while ignoring your deeper need for heart transformation.

Embrace the waiting: Rather than resenting the “already but not yet” tension of Christian life, ask God to use this season of waiting to deepen your dependence on him and sharpen your longing for Christ’s return.

Study the prophecies: Read through Isaiah 9, Micah 5, and Genesis 3:15 this week. Notice how these passages pointed forward to Christ, and let them increase your confidence in God’s faithfulness to his promises.

For reflection this week

• How does understanding humanity’s long wait for the Messiah change your perspective on your own seasons of waiting for God to act?
• In what ways are you still trying to rescue yourself instead of resting in the rescue God has already accomplished through Christ?
• What darkness in your life—whether circumstantial suffering or internal struggles—reveals your deepest longing for things to be made right? How does that longing point you toward your need for Christ?
• If the Israelites had to learn through centuries of failure that no human king could truly save them, what repeated disappointments in your life might God be using to show you that only he can satisfy your heart’s deepest needs?
• The prophets promised a deliverer who would transform hearts, not just change circumstances. Where are you tempted to settle for circumstantial relief rather than pursuing the heart transformation the gospel offers?