Victor Hugo’s classic French novel, Les Misérables, was published in 1862. Due to eight English translations, as well as multiple musical, stage, and film adaptations, many know the basic outline of the story.1 This includes the critical encounter between the main character, Jean Valjean, who is recently released from an unjust prison sentence, and the Catholic priest Bishop Charles-François-Bienvenu Myriel. Bishop Myriel is extraordinarily gracious to Valjean, forgiving his theft of the bishop’s silver cutlery after the bishop provided food and a bed. In addition, the bishop covers for that theft so that Valjean is not arrested and returned to prison. Then the bishop goes even further by giving the silver cutlery and silver candlesticks to Valjean so he can sell them, advance out of poverty, and become a new person. As the bishop offers Valjean this unbelievable gift, he challenges him, “Do not forget, ever, that you have promised me to use this silver to become an honest man.”2 Through these astonishing actions, Bishop Myriel reverses the fortunes of Valjean, and by extension, everyone whom Valjean would come to encounter.
While this basic outline is well known, many are not as familiar with Hugo’s extensive description of the bishop in the novel’s opening chapters. Hugo presents the bishop as a sincerely devoted priest who is most concerned about the less fortunate. In fact, the bishop finds fault with society’s most powerful, charging them with responsibility for the plight of the poor. In the bishop’s judgment, society plays a critical role in the conditions of those named in the book’s title: “the wretched” or “the dispossessed.”
The bishop’s perspective is summarized in a key passage that is rarely relayed in dramatic adaptations. The bishop explains, “Teach the ignorant as much as you can; society is guilty in not providing universal free education, and it must answer for the night it produces. If the soul is left in darkness, sins will be committed. The guilty one is not he who commits the sin, but the one who causes the darkness.” This section ends with an observation from the narrator: “Clearly, he had his own strange way of judging things. I suspect he acquired it from the Gospels.”3
Hugo has a view of social responsibility for societal conditions, and he expresses it through the character of Bishop Myriel. Hugo is not being evasive, however, when he places his view in the bishop’s mouth. The reader should have no doubt that on the issue of social responsibility the bishop embodies the author’s perspective. This is made clear in Hugo’s preface to the novel, where he refers to “a social condemnation” that “artificially creates a hell on earth.” He then names “the three problems of the century” as exploitation of labor, inadequate food, and insufficient education. He refers to these deprivations as “social asphyxia.” They choke the oxygen out of those under their grip. They are forms of oppression.4
While Hugo’s social view is clearly spelled out in the original novel, it is often missed in many dramatic and musical adaptations.5 Some of this is undoubtedly due to the size of the book, numbering more than 1400 pages in English translations. Many things must be cut for an adaptation of reasonable length. Some of this may also be due to the choices made by the creators of the adaptations. Perhaps it is easier to focus on the isolated charity of the bishop and the resulting individual heroism of the main character than to see the plot developments around these characters as a commentary on the failure of society writ large, whether it be the original French society or any modern western society thereafter. Indeed, a creator of a dramatic adaptation needs it to be financially viable. That viability is certainly more plausible if the paying customers do not feel morally judged in the production.
What if something similar were true for Advent? What if the texts we read during Advent say more than we relay in our preaching of them? What is it that we say we are waiting on during the four Sundays before Christmas? If it is salvation in some spiritual and physical sense, what is it we hope to be saved from? What if we dug into our texts a little deeper to discover more? What if this Advent we started asking hard questions about forms of injustice around us? Are we willing to consider these questions honestly with prayer and discernment?
One important text for these questions is Isaiah 61, the first scriptural passage for the third Sunday of Advent. Isaiah 61 begins with the voice of a prophetic figure claiming God’s spirit as an anointing for an assignment. This unnamed prophet asserts, “The spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me because God has anointed me” (61:1).6 Specifically, God has dispatched this messenger to declare a reversal of fortunes for those in confinement, whatever form it might take. This message of reversal is “good news to the oppressed;” it is to “bind up” or heal “the brokenhearted;” it is “liberty for the captives and release to the prisoners.” Since these phrases are set in four poetically parallel lines, they should most likely be read as describing an overlapping situation: the oppressed are brokenhearted due to being captive prisoners. Yet, God is ending their suffering. That is the good news.
Isaiah 61:2 continues this theme by describing the prophet as anointed “to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God.” Again, this is the prophet’s announcement of a divine reversal, which includes the calling “to comfort all who mourn.” The first half of Isaiah 61:3 explains that the mourners will be given “a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit.” Isaiah 61:3b continues describing this reversal, but with a shift in imagery. The change of the mourners’ status includes size and stability: “They will be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, to display [the LORD’s] glory.” The fourth verse expands this portrayal of reversal with another shift, this one focusing on rebuilding. Those who mourned will repair what had been destroyed, which is described in four parallel phrases: “the ancient ruins;” “the former devastations;” “the ruined cities;” and the “devastation of many generations.”
The mention of “Zion” in Isaiah 61:3 is the only explicit reference to Israel in this chapter’s eleven verses. Still, given the context in the book of Isaiah, it is clear that the reversal in vv. 1-4 refers to Israel’s situation. Indeed, scholars divide the book into three sections: the first section of chapters 1-39 is referred to as First Isaiah, set in Jerusalem in the 8th century BCE; the second section of chapters 40-55 is read as Second Isaiah, composed during the Babylonian Exile (587 to 539 BCE); and the third section of chapters 56-66 is interpreted as Third Isaiah, addressing those in Judah after the exile. Accordingly, Isaiah 61:1-4 refers to God’s promise to reverse the suffering Israel endured in that time of captivity.
In addition, the presentation of the prophetic figure in Isaiah 61 alludes to several themes from the Servant Songs (42:1-4; 49:1-6; 50:4-11; 52:1353:12) as well as broader themes in verses 40-55. These allusions include the spirit’s presence (40:1; 42:1; 44:3; 48:16); good news (40:9; 52:7); the release of prisoners (42:7; 49:9); comfort (40:1; 49:13; 51:3, 12; 52:9); and rebuilding (49:16; 51:3; 52:9; 54:1). In fact, the prophet here in Isaiah 61 may be considered part of “the heritage of the servants of the LORD” (54:17). Thus, what was anticipated for Israel in Isa 40-55 is now coming to fruition in Isa 56-66. God’s promise of reversal is becoming reality.7
This theme of reversal in 61:1-4 continues in 61:5-7, where the imagery focuses directly on Israel’s relationship with the nations. Whereas the nations once subjugated Israel, now the nations will serve Israel. They will feed Israel’s flock, till her land, and dress her vines (v. 5). Likewise, Israel will serve as God’s representative to the nations. It will be “called priests of the Lord” and “ministers of our God” (v. 6a). Israel will also be blessed with the nation’s riches as a reversal of honor and shame (vv. 6b-7). While the Revised Common Lectionary omits vv. 5-7 from the reading for the third Sunday in Advent, it is still helpful to see that this section continues the motif of reversal with particular focus on the nation of Israel.8
In the chapter’s next section (vv. 8-9), God explains the reason for this reversal. It is a matter of justice in God’s sight. “For I, the LORD, love justice. I hate robbery and wrongdoing” (v. 8a). Israel has been mistreated. In response, God “will give them recompense and make an everlasting covenant with them” (v. 8b). God setting things right will also mean that Israel will be recognized as God’s people. They will not appear to be abandoned by their God. Indeed, “all who see them shall acknowledge that they are a people whom the LORD blessed” (v. 9).
The prophet celebrates God’s just reversal in the final verses of the chapter (vv. 10-11). In fact, the prophet appreciates the privilege of proclaiming God’s deliverance. In the prophet’s striking imagery, being the bearer of God’s good news is to be clothed with “the garments of salvation” and covered with “the robe of righteousness” (v. 10a). It is to be adorned with the most precious attire and accoutrements, like a bridegroom and bride on their day of matrimony (v. 10b). This is what it means to serve a righteous God, a God who will make things right. “The Lord GOD will cause righteousness and praise to spring up before all the nations” (v. 11).
Isaiah 61 promises a God of redemptive reversal. This promise was originally intended for those recovering and rebuilding in Judah after the exile. Yet, even within Isaiah 56-66 there is a promise of redemption that will extend beyond Judah and include the nations. This is evident in Isa. 56, where the people are commanded, “Maintain justice and do what is right” (56:1). This justice includes the foreigner and the eunuch (56:3-8) because God’s temple “will be a house of prayer for all people” (56:7).
The justice called for in Isaiah 56 is expanded with a scathing rebuke in Isaiah 58. The worshippers’ invocations are invalidated because of injustice. They are condemned as unjust, self-interested, and disingenuous: “Look, you serve your own interests on your fast day and oppress all your workers” (58:4). Thus, God demands that the bonds of injustice be loosened; the straps of the yoke be undone; and the oppressed be set free (58:6). Only then will there be genuine rebuilding and restoration (58:12). This condemnation continues in Isaiah 59. The Lord is dismayed that there is no justice among the people (59:15). Still, God promises restorative reversal in Isaiah 60, just as it is promised in Isaiah 61. These themes of justice, judgment, and reversal continue in chapters 62-66. This is where we see the divine promise of “new heavens and a new earth” (65:17), as well as the gathering of all nations (66:18-21).
Just as we see the theme of reversal in Isaiah 61, as well as its expansion in Isaiah 56-66, we see it expanded even further in the New Testament. We see this explicitly with Jesus as he quotes and reinterprets Isaiah 61:1-4 as being fulfilled in the good news of his own Messianic ministry; his healing and teaching are good news to the poor and represent the arrival of the Lord’s favor (Luke 4:16-19). Jesus leaves no doubt about his presence as the fulfillment of Isaiah’s words, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing” (Luke 4:22). We also see the theme of reversal earlier in Luke’s gospel with Mary’s Magnificat, which is another Advent reading (Luke 1:46b-55). Mary proclaims that God “has brought down the powerful from their thrones and lifted up the lowly; [God] has filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty” (1:52-53).
For anyone who knows the gospels in any detail, this theme of reversal is not an isolated issue. In response to Peter’s query after Jesus’s encounter with the rich young man, Jesus teaches, “But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first” (Matthew 19:30; cf. Matthew 20:16; Mark 10:31; Luke 13:30). Likewise, Jesus emphasizes that those who claim to be righteous should focus their attention on the least of these. Choices about how the most vulnerable are treated will be a basis for divine judgment (Matthew 25:31-46).
This theme of reversal also extends to Gentile inclusion. This is foreshadowed in Jesus’s teaching about food (Mark 7:1-23; Matthew 15:1-20), in his encounter with the Canaanite woman (Mark 7:24-30; Matthew 15:2128), and in the parable about the banquet (Matthew 22:1-14; Luke 14:15-24). These moments of foreshadowing become fully fleshed out with the explicit inclusion of Gentiles in Acts, Romans, and Galatians.
In addition, this theme of reversal includes economics. This was already evident in Isaiah 56-66, where we read about God’s good news for the oppressed and God’s condemnation of economic oppression (e.g., 56; 58; 61). Obviously, this is also an important issue in the prophets generally, with a definitive example in Amos 5, where the people are described as trampling on the poor (5:11). This is such an extensive problem that God declares hate for the people’s worship due to unaddressed injustice (5:21-24).
Likewise, Jesus memorably demands that the rich young man engage in his own reversal of fortunes by selling what he owns and giving it to the poor (Matt. 19:16-30; Mark 10:17-31; Luke 18:18-30). Moreover, when Paul saw the wealthy mistreat the poor during the Lord’s Supper in Corinth, he condemned it without hesitation. Paul raises this rhetorical question in judgment, “Or do you show contempt for the church of God and humiliate those who have nothing?” (1 Cor. 11:22). Paul also calls for sharing among Christians so that there is an element of reversal among fellow believers. “The one who had much did not have too much, and the one who had little did not have too little” (2 Cor. 8:15).
James’s epistle also offers striking commentary on economic oppression. He warns about favoritism toward the rich and against the poor (2:1-13), setting the context for his teaching about faith and works (2:14-26). James also condemns the rich for oppressive wages (5:1-6). The book of Revelation closes the canon with a portrayal of reversal, as the ill-gotten gains of the Roman Empire will be taken in divine judgment (18:1-24).
Given the prevalence of this theme of reversal—from Isaiah 61 all the way through the Gospels and New Testament letters—how should we preach a fully informed message this Advent? Can we read the words about good news for the poor in Isa. 61, especially as those words are interpreted by Jesus, and not have our preaching include an emphasis on reversal, especially an economic one? Can we responsibly avoid proclaiming that the gospel should, in fact, be good news for the poor? Will we proclaim the dignity and worth of the least fortunate, in obedience to the emphasis on this issue in Holy Scripture? Surely, the proclamation of God’s advent, inaugurated in Jesus, must offer a foretaste of God’s love for justice amid God’s people gathered in the name of God’s Son? While we obviously cannot create the culmination of God’s coming deliverance, we can certainly, by the Holy Spirit’s power, do our best to create anticipatory glimpses of it by showing that we do, in fact, value what Jesus valued.
Let us be on guard against missing the deeper message of God’s word. Let us be aware of the risk of being like so many who love the musical version of Les Misérables, but who are unaware of, or are completely unconcerned about, the deeper message of the original book. Let us be watchful and dutiful so that our Advent worship is not akin to a musical version of the Bible, which may include some important moments, yet it has lost critical connections with indispensable aspects of the novel’s narrative.
I pray that each of us will search our hearts and minds so that we can proclaim the advent of God’s good news in Jesus Christ, wisely and fully.
Open my eyes, that I may see glimpses of truth thou hast for me.
Place in my hands the wonderful key that shall unclasp and set me free.
Silently now I wait for thee, ready, my God, thy will to see. Open my eyes; illumine me, Spirit divine!
