“For unto us a child is born, unto us a Son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder; and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his government and of peace there shall be no end, upon the throne of David, and upon his kingdom, to establish it, and to uphold it with justice and with righteousness from henceforth even forever. The zeal of Jehovah of hosts will perform this.”
In this passage, my friends, we note the first title which the prophetic herald assigns the new-born prince is the name “Wonderful,” and is it not true that this title belongs to Him as to none other in all the annals of history? Just as the Bible stands out unique and distinctive in the realm of literature, so does Christ stand out —separate, apart, aloft far beyond all others in the realm of personality. The Bible is the Book of the Christ, He is the Christ of the Book — inseparable they are, and incomparable, both alike truly wonderful, if “Glory gilds the sacred page, Majestic like the sun,” it’s all because it centers in Him —Christ the wonderful one.
First of all: His incarnation —strange and wonderful. Born under mean and lowly circumstances, yet the spaces above were filled with the hallelujahs of a heavenly host; lodged in a manger, yet distinguished visitors came to give Him praise.
Wonderful in His words: “No man ever so spake,” said the officers sent out to arrest Him. Heart-searching and reforming were His utterances, spirit-quickening and life-giving. The purest, richest, deepest concept of life ever unfolded to the mind of man came from His lips. His Father’s voice heard on the sacred mount has been ringing down through the ages — “Hear ye Him.”
Wonderful in His works: so distinctive were they that He himself could say, “Believe me for my works’ sake.” Amazing, stupendous, unanswerable were the miracles He wrought, and by which His Deity was confirmed. “No one can do these signs that thou do’est, except God be with him,” said a learned observer of His day.
Wonderful in His life: “Him who knew no sin” —It was my sin and your sin that He bore upon the cruel tree, paying a death penalty that we might be free.
Wonderful in His death: so different that when the old earth quaked, and a “black crepe” was hung over the sun, even the centurion “feared exceedingly,” saying, “Truly this was the Son of God.”
In His resurrection —wonderful: nor is there a better-established fact in history. Having now conquered death, hell, and the grave, He brings life and immortality to light.
Wonderful in His sweeping, startling, boundless, coextensive proclamation, such as none other ever dared to utter: “All authority hath been given unto me in heaven and on earth, Go ye therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them into the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit: teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you; and lo, I am with you even unto the end of the world.” And following this —
Wonderful in His ascension: when the everlasting doors were lifted up and the Kingly Priest entered into the Holy of Holies, there faithfully to intercede for all coming under His cleansing blood.
No less wonderful will it be when the trumpet sounds, and He comes the second time without sin unto salvation —coming that He may receive unto Himself His faithful ones; coming with myriads of His angels in flaming fire, rendering vengeance to them that know not God, and obey not the gospel of His grace; coming in all His regal splendor; then shall every created thing in heaven and on earth praise Him in these words: “Unto him that sitteth on the throne, and unto the Lamb, be the blessing and the honor and the glory and the dominion for ever and ever.”
Truly, the clearer our vision of this, our Lord and Redeemer, the more are we constrained to call His name Wonderful. May we quote a tribute from one of the great educators of our day: “No other life has done such work, no other person has been made to bear such transcendent and mysterious meanings —He is the world’s imperishable wonder, the pre-eminent object of human faith.”
Surely, as another hath said: “It would be easier to add a tint to the rose, or a beam of splendor to the sunset glory, than to amend the character of Jesus.”
Dorothea Day’s poem, “My Captain,” —which follows the poetic trend of Henley’s Invictus —touches, I’m sure, a responsive chord in every heart wherein Christ has been sanctified as Lord.
Out of the light that dazzles me,
Bright as the sun from pole to pole,
I thank the God I know to be
For Christ the conqueror of my soul.
Since His the sway of circumstance
I would not wince nor cry aloud.
Under that rule which men call chance
My head with joy is humbly bowed.
Beyond this place of sin and tears
That life with Him! and His the aid,
Despite the menace of the years,
Keeps, and shall keep me unafraid.
I have no fear though strait the gate,
He cleared from punishments the scroll;
Christ is the Master of my fate,
Christ is the Captain of my soul.
May I commend to you the following selected verses:
I have no creed but Christ! I want no other;
It leaves my soul unfettered, glad, and free.
No creed but Christ! And every man my brother!
That’s Christianity enough for me!
No creed but Christ! No human limitation
To faith that longs to stretch its wings for flight.
Untrammeled by all man-made creeds and dogma,
My soul, unfettered, wings its way to light!
No creed but Christ! His word alone to guide me
Through all the tangled maze of paths untrod.
His whisper —as I stumble on in darkness —
‘Give me your hand, I’ll lead you up to God.’
How can we but adore Him! Our best friend; our only Savior, Prophet, Priest, and King —our all in all.
In His “wonderful” name, Our Heavenly Father, we invoke Thy rich grace upon all who may have followed us in these reflections: for in none other is there salvation —the only name under heaven, given among men, wherein we must be saved.
“How sweet the name of Jesus sounds
In a believer’s ear!
It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds,
And drives away his fear.
It makes the wounded spirit whole,
And calms the troubled breast;
‘T’is manna to the hungry soul,
And to the weary rest.”
D. H. Friend (1876-1961) in Missionary Messenger, VOL. XXIII, No. 12, December 1946