The Promised Foretold
- Elijah McSwain
- 11 minutes ago
- 11 min read

1/5/2026
Markiet Lewis
Genesis 3:15 ESV — 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.”
Isaiah 9:6 ESV — 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.
Bethlehem did not begin with Mary, Joseph, shepherds, angels, or wise men. Bethlehem is not just a Christmas location; it is a covenant location. Before it was a backdrop for a manger, it was a stage for God’s long plan. Bethlehem first appears in Scripture as Ephrathah, a small, insignificant village. Because God loves to hide His greatest work in places the world overlooks. Bethlehem was no Jerusalem. It had no palace, temple, or throne. Yet Micah prophesied, “But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me one who will be ruler over Israel, whose origins are from of old, from ancient times” (Micah 5:2).
Christmas began in the garden. Before there was a manger, there was a mess. Before there was a cradle, there was a curse. Before there was “Glory to God in the highest,” there was “Adam, where are you?”
And yet, in the middle of humanity’s first failure, God delivered humanity’s first Christmas promise. Long before Jesus was born, God had already begun writing the story of redemption, etching hope into the Scriptures, whispering it through the prophets, and carrying it through generations until it burst into the world in Bethlehem. It is here in Genesis 3, when the world is covered in shame, fear, and guilt, that God gives the Protoevangelium, the “first Gospel,” the first declaration that a Savior is coming. This is where Christmas begins: with a God who refuses to leave His children without hope.
Every great story begins long before the hero appears on the scene.
Before Batman saved Gotham, there’s Bruce Wayne.
Before Superman saved Metropolis, there’s Clark Kent.
Before Spiderman saved Queens, there was Peter Parker.
Before David faced Goliath, there was a field.
Before Moses confronted Pharaoh, there was a basket.
Before Joseph ruled Egypt, there was a pit and prison.
Before the cross, there was a manger.
Before the manger, there was the promise that started it all.
And the greatest story ever told began with this promise, one spoken in the garden, echoed by the prophets, and fulfilled on a night in Bethlehem.
A PROMISE IN THE MIDDLE OF PAIN (Gen. 3:15)
Adam and Eve sinned. Fellowship is broken. Shame is introduced. They hide from God, cover themselves with fig leaves, and fear the voice they once welcomed. Sin always does that, it makes us run from the God we need the most. Sin never drives us toward God, it always drives us away from Him. That is its nature. From the very beginning, when Adam and Eve took that forbidden bite, their first instinct wasn’t repentance, it was retreat. Genesis 3:8 says, “they hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden.” Think about that, hiding from the One who knit them together, hiding from the One who breath the breath of life, hiding from the One who walked with them in the cool of the day, hiding from the only One who could fix what they broke.
Sin makes us foolish like that. Sin binds us to the reality that the very God we’re avoiding is the only God who can restore us. Instead of running to Him in confession, we run from Him in shame.
Instead of falling at His feet, we try to cover ourselves with fig leaves, our excuses. Paul exposes this same pattern in Romans 1:20, “for since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen so that people are without excuse.” Fig leaves are our attempt to avoid accountability. Adam says, “the woman You gave me.” Eve says, “the serpent deceived me.” Nobody says, “I sinned.”
That’s what fig leaves do, they deflect responsibility. And Paul says in Romans 1:20 that humanity has seen enough of God to know better. So when we cover ourselves with excuses, we are not ignorant, we are evasive.
We also engage in busyness. We stay active so we don’t have to be attentive. We stay moving so we don’t have to be honest. We stay busy so we don’t have to be broken.
Busyness can look like devotion, but it often functions like distraction. 2 Thessalonians 3:11, “for we hear that some among you are idle and disruptive. They are not busy, they are busybodies.”
Busyness becomes a fig leaf when activity replaces submission. We do church things but avoid heart work.
1 Timothy 5:13, “besides that, they learn to be idle, wandering around from house to house, and not only idle but also gossips and busybodies, saying things they ought not.” We stay busy with committees instead of confession, schedules instead of surrender, and noise instead of prayer. Busyness keeps us from falling at His feet b/c falling requires stillness. Sin convinces us that God is angry and waiting to crush us, when the truth is, God is longing to redeem us.
Sin whispers, “Hide.” Grace calls, “Come home.”
But here is the tragedy: the deeper we go into sin, the more convinced we become that God doesn’t want us anymore. Shame becomes a prison. Guilt becomes a voice that tells us we’ve gone too far. Sin isolates. It suffocates. It separates. It convinces us that distance is safer than surrender. And yet, here is the beauty of the Gospel: while we are running from God, God wants us to run to Him. Not to punish, but to restore. Not to condemn, but to rescue. Not to reject, but to redeem. This is why we say, “sin always does that, it makes us run from the God we need the most.” Because the enemy knows that if he can keep us running, he can keep us wounded. If he can keep us hiding, he can keep us bound. If he can keep us ashamed, he can keep us from the One who heals the shame.
But God refuses to let the distance remain. He steps into the garden. He steps into our darkness. Ultimately, He stepped into Bethlehem, to close the gap sin created and to draw us back to Himself. God confronts them. Judgment is set. But God does something remarkable: He preaches hope in judgment. He offers redemption while announcing consequences. He says to the serpent: “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.”
This is not poetry. This is prophecy. This is the first Christmas message ever spoken.
THE PROMISE OF CONFLICT
In Genesis 3:14, the very moment sin enters the world, God does something shocking. He does not speak first to Adam. He does not speak to Eve first. He turns to the serpent. God declares war on the serpent. He draws a line in the sand that Satan cannot cross. God announces a divine plan that Satan cannot stop. The war has begun, and God Himself proclaims the outcome. Notice the precision of God’s language. When God speaks of the Redeemer, He promises that through the woman will come a “Seed,” singular, not seeds, not a nation, but One Man. One Deliver. One Redeemer. One Savior. This Seed will be born of a woman, but not mentioned as “of a man,” hinting at the virgin birth thousands of years before Gabriel ever spoke to Mary.
God is hinting thousands of years before Bethlehem, at a birth unlike any other birth in human history.
A child born of a woman but not conceived by a man. A humanity He fully shares, but a sin nature He does not inherit. A body like ours, but a purity untouched by Adam’s fall. Long before Isaiah declared, “Behold the virgin shall conceive,” Long before Gabriel told Mary, “The Holy Spirit will overshadow you,” Long before Joseph wrestled with confusion and faith, God had already written the story.
THE PROMISE OF VICTORY
The serpent will bruise His heel, that’s the cross. That’s Calvary; that’s Good Friday. The cross was painful, but not permanent. But the Seed will crush his head, delivering a fatal, irreversible blow. that’s resurrection. That’s victory. That’s our salvation. That’s Christmas and Easter tied together in one verse. Think about the grace in this moment: humanity has just fallen, the world is broken, shame has covered Adam and Eve, and sin has entered the human story. And what does God do?
He promises a Savior. Before He expels them from Eden, before He tells them the consequences, before judgment is called out, He gives them hope.
The first promise in the Bible is a promise of Jesus. The first prophecy in Scripture is about His victory. The first ray of light after the fall points straight to the cross. God wastes no time in revealing that redemption is His plan. Not a backup plan, not a last-minute decision, but the plan He always intended. God speaks His greatest promises in our darkest moments. Somebody here knows what it feels like to be in a Genesis 3 moment. A moment where life is messy, mistakes are present, and shame is heavy. But hear this: God doesn’t want you to run from Him when you fall, He wants you to run to Him because He has a promise. Christmas is God saying, “I have come to undo what the serpent has done.”
LIGHT BREAKING THROUGH DARKNESS (Isaiah 9:1–2)
Genesis gives the first promise. Isaiah expands it.
Israel was confined to a dark situation. Isaiah writes during Assyrian oppression. Fear fills the nation. Hope feels distant. Isaiah calls it: “Darkness,” “Gloom,” “Deep darkness.” It describes more than politics; it describes the human heart without God. We live in a similar time. When Isaiah spoke of a people walking in darkness, he wasn’t describing a fairy tale or an ancient myth; he was describing a world much like ours. A world where fear was real, hope felt distant, and the future seemed uncertain. And if we’re honest, that’s where we are today. Look around. Darkness isn’t just something in the world; it’s something pressing on the world. Darkness covers our culture. Moral confusion, spiritual apathy, truth treated like opinion, holiness mocked as outdated, families fractured, faith minimized, and righteousness replaced by relativism.
We live in a world where people chase pleasure but cannot find peace. Where they pursue identity but remain insecure. Where they have access to more information than ever, but possess less wisdom than ever.
Darkness doesn’t just lurk in the shadows; it strides down Main Street. Darkness covers our communities. Violence rising, compassion shrinking. Addictions are destroying homes, and anxiety is gripping our youth. The elderly are forgotten, marriages are crumbling, and children are growing up without stability, safety, or spiritual foundation. Loneliness is increasing even as our population grows. We are more connected digitally, yet more disconnected emotionally and spiritually. Darkness covers our homes. Arguments are louder than prayer, screens are brighter than Scripture, schedules fuller than our souls. People living under one roof but not living in unity, hearts burdened, minds overwhelmed, families exhausted.
Many hearts today feel like Isaiah’s world, dark, heavy, and hopeless. But here’s the truth every believer must remember. Darkness has never stopped God from sending light. Darkness has never slowed Him down, altered His plans, or dimmed His glory. In fact, throughout Scripture, darkness often sets the stage for God’s greatest breakthroughs.
When the world was formless and void, God said, “Let there be light.” When Israel was trapped in Egypt, “God lit the night with a pillar of fire.” When Eli’s vision faded, God raised Samuel in a dark temple. When Israel sat under Assyrian oppression, God announced “a great light has shined.” When Jesus was born, He entered a world ruled by Herod, Rome, and spiritual darkness. God does His best work in the dark. Light doesn’t shine best when everything is perfect; light shines best when everything is broken.
The darker the night, the brighter the star over Bethlehem.
The deeper the sin, the greater the grace of Calvary.
The heavier the grief of Friday, the louder the triumph of Resurrection Sunday.
And that is why Christmas matters so much. Jesus didn’t come into a world that had everything together. He came into a world that had fallen apart. He stepped into a world that was violent, corrupt, immoral, and spiritually blind. But darkness could not stop Him. Darkness could not overcome Him. Darkness could not extinguish Him. John 1:5, “the light shines in darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” So yes, we live in a similar time, but we serve the same God. The God who sends light. The God who is light. The God who steps into darkness and transforms it. And the message of Isaiah is the message of Christmas: the darker the moment, the closer the Messiah.
THE LIGHT THAT COMES TO US
Isaiah says: “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light.” He does not say they found the light. He does not say they created the light. No, They saw it. The light came to them. Christmas is God bringing light to people who could never reach it themselves. John says, “The light shines in darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”
Jesus doesn’t just carry light. He is the Light. Where He steps, darkness flees. Where He moves, shadows break. Christmas says: No matter how dark it gets, light is on the way.
Somebody feels like they’re walking through darkness:
Darkness of confusion
Darkness of loss
Darkness of financial pressure
Darkness of loneliness
Darkness of depression
But hear the promise: A great Light is coming toward you. This season isn’t about gifts; it’s about hope breaking through. The Child, Jesus, carries all of our hopes. Isaiah shifts from poetry to praise. He moves from despair to declaration. And he announces: “For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given.” “Unto Us” reveals the personal gift. He didn’t say “unto Mary,” though it was true. He didn’t say “unto Israel,” though it was true. He said, “unto us.” Christmas is personal. The Savior came for you. Then the writer moved to the government being upon His shoulders. Isaiah says the government the weight of authority, the rule of creation, rests on His shoulders.
Not on Washington
Not on Jerusalem
Not on the United Nations
Not on kings or presidents or powers
But on Him. This is why Christians don’t live in fear. The Child is in control.
THE FOUR NAMES THAT REVEAL HIS NATURE
Isaiah gives four names, each one a sermon that reveals His nature.
1. WONDERFUL COUNSELOR
He brings wisdom beyond human understanding. He guides our lives when we don’t know what to do. If your mind is overwhelmed, He is your Counselor.
2. MIGHTY GOD
This Child is divine. He is omnipotent. He holds all power. He is the God of battles, the conqueror of sin, death, and hell. If you feel weak, He is your Mighty God.
3. EVERLASTING FATHER
He is timeless, eternal, caring, and protective. He does not abandon His children. If you feel alone, He is the Father who stays.
4. PRINCE OF PEACE
He brings peace with God, peace within us, and peace in our relationships. If your heart is troubled, He is the Prince of Peace.
A KINGDOM WITHOUT END
Isaiah says: “Of the increase of His government and peace, there will be no end.” His kingdom will not shrink. His power will not weaken. His authority will not fade. Empires rise and fall. Nations come and go. Kings live and die. But the kingdom started in a manger is still growing today. And nothing can stop it.
The good news of Genesis and Isaiah sums up the promised foretold.
Genesis shows us the fall, and Isaiah shows us the future.
Bethlehem shows us the fulfillment.
God promised a Redeemer.
God prepared a Redeemer.
God provided a Redeemer.
The road to Bethlehem didn’t begin with Mary, it began with a promise spoken in the garden.
Christmas is God saying:
I will not leave you in darkness.
I will not abandon you in your sin.
I will send My Light.
I will send My Son.
I will send My Salvation and He did.
References:
ESV: The Holy Bible, English Standard Version. (2016). Crossway. https://www.biblegateway.com/








