Some weeks ago, I decided to quickly review Isaiah 53, a passage I was memorizing with a couple friends. My intention was to run through it, half reading, half reciting, before I began whatever I intended to do that day. I started doing so-and then I got to verse eleven.
It may have been the new part at the time, causing me to pause more on it, or maybe it was just the Holy Spirit causing me to pay attention and to seek to actually be affected by the passage. Anyway, I stopped and considered the first line of the verse again.
He shall see the labor of His soul and be satisfied. If you aren't familiar with Isaiah 53, do read it. It speaks of Jesus, and having read it many times, I had considered how He was revealed and portrayed in this verse before. But for the first time this thought came to me.
He shall see the labor of His soul and be satisfied. What an awesome and reassuring verse. I had thought of this like the verse of a song we sing sometimes at church. "Take pleasure when You look on/The fruit of all Your pain/Enjoy Your glory formed in us/You suffered not in vain." This time, however, it made me further think of my desire to do worthwhile things that please God, and I felt encouraged. Jesus is spoken of here as God's servant, and we are also His servants. So, I thought, our labor is also not in vain. Verses like,
The Lord will repay each man according to his deeds, came to mind.
I had already found the next sentence interesting to ponder. By His knowledge My righteous Servant shall justify many, for He shall bear their iniquities. Now, I wondered, what does this mean for me? Two things come to mind-the "bearing" of the sins of the lost, the burden of seeking growth for baby believers, in prayer for them and sorrow over them, and secondly, the bearing of the sins of those I know, as in "love covers a multitude of sin" and "it is [man's] glory to overlook an offense."
When I reached the end, instead of moving on, I returned to the beginning and reread it, seeking specific application rather than just appreciation of Jesus as I had mostly before.
(I didn't write down my thoughts that day, so some are from other times later.)
There are many specific instances in the chapter that illustrate the main idea I found: if Jesus, then why not me? In the first verse it says,
Who has believed our report? and a little while later,
There is no beauty that we should desire Him. He is despised and rejected by men. The application is obvious; if others also reject me and don't accept my words, it is only to be expected. That in itself is a challenge, for I don't experience that much, and it makes me think: no one can reject your report if you haven't given it...
Verse three cuts deeply. This is the Son of God, yet we despise and reject Him, do not esteem Him, hide our faces from Him. And why?
There is no beauty that we should desire Him...a Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. We need beauty to accept the glorious Son? How shameful. This makes me think of others-why do we not accept them? Because we find no beauty in them? How shameful. Jesus, even at that moment of worst appearance according to our fleshly evaluation, was more beautiful than any other sight. We cannot trust ourselves. We must trust that each person, despite any appearance otherwise, is glorious as a creature bearing God's image.
As the song says,
Man of sorrows, what a name... The glorious Son, acquainted with grief. If the Son of God was made perfect by what he suffered, how much more a sinful people?
Yet, not only was He acquainted with sorrows and griefs in His life, but He also bore
our griefs and sorrows. For our peace He was bruised, by His suffering we are healed. We turn away, and the Lord lays our iniquities on Him. (What glory! Only a wonderfully merciful God could think of it!)
So...? "Bear one another's burdens." How willing we should be to suffer for each other! Even for those who reject us, who "hide their faces" from us.
Practically, what does this mean? Obviously serving and praying for others. Perhaps seeking out that relative who does not seem to care for us. It means change in the smallest, silliest ways, that seems so insignificant that we excuse ourselves from them. For example, getting my little sister a drink when she forgot to take her bottle to bed
again and I am so tired and half-asleep I do not feel like getting up. Or not bugging my brother when I want to get on the computer before bed. Not retorting in a way that puts others down, even when I think they totally deserve it. If Jesus suffered so for those who hated Him, why can I not help around the house or in the garden when I'd rather not? If He subjected His body to such pain, why can I not discipline my body in eating and sleeping habits? If He gave up eternity for earth, why can I not use my time to do what I
ought rather than what I
want?
These examples seem so small and unimportant, but they are ways that I can die to myself, and by not retorting when others are being stupid, being patient when I must wait for them, responding calmly when others are sinning, I can practice bearing the sins of others. "Do not despise the day of small beginnings," and "He who is faithful in little is faithful in much." That verse always stings...
The next part is obvious, but what a challenge!
He was oppressed and He was afflicted, yet He opened not His mouth...as a sheep before its shearers is silent... Isaiah goes on in verse 8 to say, "He was taken from prison and from judgment." There are different ways to take this, but considering His trial, though I don't know if it's accurate, I like to think of it as the rendering, "in His humiliation His judgment was taken away." He was judged, but not justly. He was condemned when He was innocent, yet He made no objection.
I don't need to tell you what I'm thinking. The verse, "For what credit is it if, when you are beaten for your faults, you take it patiently? But when you do good and suffer, if you take it patiently, this is commendable before God," says it for me. He, the perfectly just, righteous, and equitable, was not given justice. This makes me think of kids saying, "That's not fair!" God is a God of justice, and one day all things will be made "fair." But our concern should not be to get our justice.
So, did your parents treat some sibling better than you? Did a family member or acquaintance take something of yours? Did someone's work for the church get recognized when your greater work did not? Did you get in trouble for something you did not do? Praise the Lord! You did not get justice, just like your Lord. "Therefore God has highly exalted Him." "'Vengeance is Mine, I will repay,' saith the Lord." Great is your reward in heaven.
But when we think of injustice, how can we compare ourselves to Jesus? Nor was any deceit in His mouth. We usually deserve any ill treatment we get. We have no right to complain, for we have done violence, and our mouths are full of deceit.
The next verse, as we think of Jesus' experience as a model for our lives as we are, is scary. Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise Him; He has put Him to grief. Yet it continues, When You make His soul an offering for sin, He shall see His seed and prolong His days, and the pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in His hand. Does the pleasure of the Lord prosper in your hand? Or is it more likely to be your own pleasure prospering?
Remember that things are not as they seem. Jesus looked defeated, and He was numbered among the dead. But His days were prolonged. He seemed to have no heir. But His family is great, and He lives to see it. The next verse is the encouragement that we began with, that we shall be satisfied and rewarded for our work.
These are simple thoughts, whatever came to mind, and so if you are like me, it is a temptation to dismiss them. But, I think, that's how life is. We are too sophisticated a people. We make things too complicated, when really, the important things in life are simple. And we, a sophisticated and forgetful people, need to be reminded of them.
