Sermon for MHBC (20 December 2020. You can listen on Facebook, YouTube, Vimeo, or our website. Live at 11:00am on Sundays.
I have to confess to you that for the last few months I’ve felt a despair I’ve never felt before. Now, to be entirely honest, I have always experienced feelings of melancholy and such. That is just part of my natural disposition. But lately I feel beaten down by the cruelty of the world. I’m shaken by the extreme experiences of sorrow and heartbreak. I’m rattled by the realities of violence. And I sometimes wonder how any of it makes sense. To put it bluntly, it often looks like God is silent or, worse, absent. And we are here alone, spinning on this planet, making some progress, to be sure, but never able to overcome the tragedy of the human experience.
It’s a point that is well-made in Shusaku Endo’s classic novel Silence. Where is God? And why does God seem silent when terrible things happen?
You won’t find any definitive answers to those questions in Scripture, but what you do find is a God who promises to set the world right, a God who is working in the midst of incredible evil and brokenness to bring about his plans. Isaiah says that in so many ways. One way he says that is by talking about a servant of God who will come to put things right. This servant will be a victorious king in the line of David, but he will be a better David because his kingdom will never end and it will be perfect in righteousness.
In Isaiah, there are four (maybe five) so-called servant songs—sections where Isaiah tells us about this coming king. The first three are in chs. 42, 49, and 50. This morning we want to look at the fourth servant song, which is probably the most famous, and it is mentioned by the NT numerous times. This fourth servant song begins in Isa 52:13.
I want to suggest that this fourth servant song at least begins to address the problem of God’s silence. Look with me at v. 13: “Behold, my servant shall act wisely; he shall be high and lifted up, and shall be exalted.” This is the picture of a king and a victorious one at that. Now to understand the world of the Bible—in both the Old and New Testaments—you have to understand this desire and longing for the promised king to sit on David’s throne. Everyone is waiting for this and praying for it. Why? Because the world is broken. There is tremendous sorrow in it. And God seems silent.
But this fourth servant song is about to shock us. The servant is a king, but not like one you would expect. Verse 14: “As many were astonished at you—his appearance was so marred, beyond human semblance, and his form beyond that of the children of mankind.” So something is wrong with his appearance. He doesn’t look like a king.
And yet, in spite of appearances, this is precisely how God is acting. This is a moment of unveiling, what in biblical terms we call apocalypse, which literally just means “revealing, unveiling, or uncovering.” Look at v. 15: “so shall he sprinkle many nations. Kings shall shut their mouths because of him, for that which has not been told them they see, and that which they have not heard they understand.” I have to say something about this word “sprinkle.” Some translations have “startle.” There is some debate about the Hebrew word. If it is “startle,” it continues the same theme we’ve seen. Nations will be shocked by the fact that this person is the king. That fits nicely. If it is “sprinkle”—and this is how it has traditionally been understood—it taps into the idea of the purification rituals. This Hebrew word is the same word that shows up when the priests sprinkle the blood of sacrifices on the altar and on themselves. It is a cleansing actions. It is how things are made holy.
What is clear is that nobody expects this, yet they are being awakened to this new and unexpected thing that God is doing. “Kings shall shut their mouths because of him.” Why? “Because that which has not been told them they see, and that which they have not heard they understand.” Eyes and ears are opened in new ways. This idea of revealing in spite of expectations is what the next few verses are all about.
Look at 53:1: “Who has believed what he has heard from us? And to whom has the arm of the LORD been revealed?” There’s that word “revealed.” All of this is counter to expectations. Verse 2: “For he grew up before him like a young plant, and like a root out of dry ground; he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him.” Now there’s one piece in this verse that’s significant. The word translated “root” occurred back in Isa 11:10, where God promised that he would do something new in spite of all the devastation. But again, from the human perspective, it seems impossible and insignificant.
But this is precisely how God works in the world. In 1 Cor 1:27, Paul says, “But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong.” God’s saving action doesn’t work in the way we would expect. And why would it? If it worked in the way we would expect, it likely wouldn’t accomplish the sort of change the world needs. The idea of a suffering king is contrary to expectations.
Paul also says in 1 Cor 1:23, “but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles.” The cross is a stumbling block to Jews because they expected a powerful king who would run the Romans out of town. They certainly didn’t expect one who would die a criminal’s death. The cross is folly to the Greeks because they thought they were very wise. They were obsessed with self-fulfillment and they didn’t have time for any stories of a God who died to set the world right.
We may struggle with this too because it takes the power out of our hands. When I was in college, I had the opportunity to share the gospel with a friend from high school. He said, “You know I figure after college and after I settle down a bit, I’ll get right with God and get forgiven.” That gave me a chance to talk about Christ crucified. I said, “That’s not what Christianity teaches. We believe that we could never make ourselves right with God, but Christ died in our place, and only by giving up ourselves, laying down our arms as it were,[1] and looking to Christ can we be made right with God.” This isn’t some amazing conversion story, but I do still remember his astonished reaction. He had never heard it before. It’s not what he expected.
But this is how God is working in our world. In the darkness of suffering, he has acted. Look at Isa 53:3: “He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not.” “We esteemed him not.” In other words, we missed the point. And this is important for how God works in the world. We have certain exceptions, but God doesn’t always work according to those expectations. And this makes since. If there’s a God, wouldn’t we expect that God to do things outside of our expectations?
And this servant is described as a man of sorrows. What is striking about that is that God steps right down into the darkness and silence. Where is God in sorrow and suffering? Right in the middle of it. Just maybe not in the way we would expect.
And this is how God is putting things right. Verse 4: “Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted.” Notice there is substitution here. He has borne our griefs. He has carried our sorrows. We call this vicarious suffering. Vicarious means in the place of another. But from a human perspective, we think he’s cursed.
But his suffering is for our sake. Verse 5: “But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed.” Now I want you to pay attention to that word chastisement because there’s a really interesting place in the OT law where that word is used.
In Deut 21:18–21, we are told what happens to a rebellious son. It’s graphic but this is what the law says is required.
If a man has a stubborn and rebellious son who will not obey the voice of his father or the voice of his mother, and, though they discipline him, will not listen to them, then his father and his mother shall take hold of him and bring him out to the elders of his city at the gate of the place where he lives, and they shall say to the elders of his city, ‘This our son is stubborn and rebellious; he will not obey our voice; he is a glutton and a drunkard.’ Then all the men of the city shall stone him to death with stones. So you shall purge the evil from your midst, and all Israel shall hear, and fear.
That’s what the rebellious child deserves under OT law, but Isaiah is saying instead of that discipline falling on you for your rebellion, it’s going to fall on this servant. And the result will be peace. You will no longer be liable for your rebellion.
Now what’s really fascinating about that passage in Deuteronomy is the next two verses. So we have this mandate for rebellious children, then immediately following we read: “And if a man has committed a crime punishable by death and he is put to death, and you hang him on a tree, his body shall not remain all night on the tree, but you shall bury him the same day, for a hanged man is cursed by God. You shall not defile your land that the LORD your God is giving you for an inheritance.” Do you see the connection? The rebellious son deserves death. A criminal’s death is often signified by hanging on a tree. The one who hangs on a tree is cursed by God. Paul picks up on this in Gal 3:13. Listen to what he says: Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us—for it is written, “Cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree.” This is Christ’s substitutionary suffering on our behalf. We can’t keep the law. But Christ became a curse in order to redeem us.
Why do we need redemption? Isaiah 53:6 tells us: “All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned—every one—to his own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all.” Here’s how Paul puts it in 2 Cor 5:21: “For our sake God made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.”
So we have this picture from Isaiah. There’s a king, but he’s not what you would expect. He’s a suffering king. He stands in our place. He suffers in our place. All of this is bringing about the healing that we so desperately need. We are scattered sheep. We have wondered away. We have determined to be our own gods. And yet, Christ suffered in our place. Perfect and righteous according to v. 9, and yet he suffered.
And it’s through this suffering, that God is confounding the wise. There is victory on the cross. Isaiah talks about that in the next few verses. In v. 10, there is a picture of his offspring enjoying his benefits. In v. 11, he says many are made righteous through his vicarious suffering. And in v. 12, he receives a great inheritance through his suffering.
Now back to our original question. Where is God? The Christian gospel says God steps into time and space and suffers and dies for our sake, and by doing so, he has gained the victory over this broken world.
I just want to talk briefly about our benefits in Christ. First, we have righteousness and peace before a holy God. In Rom 5:1, Paul writes, “Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.” Do you know you have peace with God? In Christ, you can be in perfect relationship with the living God, despite your past, despite your present circumstances, despite what you will do in the future. When God looks at a person in Christ, he sees a righteous son or daughter of the king.
Second, we have the ability to endure suffering. This is because Christ’s suffering gives us hope. In 1 Peter 2, Peter quotes from this passage in Isaiah and encourages his readers to follow Christ’s example because Christ has set us free from death and freed us for righteousness. This is the hope of the gospel and leads to a third point.
Third, Jesus has authority over this broken world. This is a point made numerous times throughout the NT, but it is illustrated well in Matthew 8. In Matthew 8, Peter’s mother-in-law is sick with a terrible fever. Jesus heals her. Many others come for healing. Those who have demons are set free. Those who are sick are healed. And Matthew tells us that this fulfills Isaiah’s words: “He took our illnesses and bore our diseases.” Jesus’s authority over the tragic things in this world gives us hope for the present and hope for the future. Hope for the present because he has the authority to take away terrible circumstances. And he does. He still heals. He still sets free. But even if he doesn’t, the best things are yet to come because he bore our iniquities.
The power of the gospel lies in the fact that Jesus suffered for our sakes. That makes all the difference.
Have you ever heard the story of Polycarp? Polycarp was an early Christian. In fact, he was a disciple of John. At 86 years old, the Romans finally arrested him. They offered him release if he would blaspheme Christ. To which he made this famous statement: “Eighty-six years I have been his servant. How can I blaspheme my King who saved me?” So the fires were lit. Fascinatingly, Polycarp refused to be pinned to the stake, saying, that the one who gives him strength to endure the fire would enable to stay in the fire. Those witnessing his martyrdom say they witnessed a miracle.[2]
Now this takes us back to our question. Where is God in the midst of terrible things? Where is God when a saint is being burnt at a stake? Here seems to be the answer. God entered into this world in the person of Jesus and suffered and died, defying all expectations. It’s not by conquest but by a cross that God alters human history. So where is God? He is acting in the most unexpected ways to redeem his creation. Through the cross, through Jesus bearing the sins of the world, God is not silent.
[1] I feel certain this is a phrase taken from C. S. Lewis in Mere Christianity.
[2] https://christianhistoryinstitute.org/study/module/polycarp