Suffering Servant
“Surely he took up our pain
and bore our suffering,
yet we considered him punished by God,
stricken by him, and afflicted.
But he was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was on him
and by his wounds we are healed.”
Isaiah 53:4-5
Dear Friends,
I’ve only known this passage in light of Christ. It’s read during Lent around Good Friday, a little over a week away, to direct our Christian minds towards the obedient and suffering servant of Christ. It catapults me towards the cross, seeing my sin blanketing Christ’s shoulders—the suffering I’ve caused. While my own understanding of God, Christ, sin, and atonement has shifted over the years, away from merely personal redemption and into more communal redemption with restorative justice, the cross reveals suffering that comes from servitude.
Today is The Feast of Annunciation in the Church. It is the day many Christians remember and celebrate the angel Gabriel’s announcement to Mary and her willingness to serve God as Christ’s mother. Today (March 25th) marks the beginning nine months to Christmas. I imagine Mary’s heart beating wildly, fear and excitement dancing in her eyes, perplexed at how it would all work—pregnancy, family, marriage, finances, capability. I doubt this passage from Isaiah ever crossed her mind when it came to her growing son. But I bet it did cross her mind when it came to her own suffering and the suffering of her people.
This passage that we equate towards Christ was written 700 years before his birth. It was written to Israel in the midst of their suffering and exile. They were feeling crushed and afflicted. They felt pierced and punished. They were both the suffering and the ones who caused suffering. Perhaps this passage made them think of prophets who bore certain atrocities while proclaiming God’s truth? This passage reminds me of Christ, yes, but also to those who have suffered like Christ. Can we place others alongside this passage like Israel would have? Can Jeremiah be the suffering servant? Can Mary be the suffering servant? Can Hudson Taylor, the missionary to China, be the suffering servant? Can Sojourner Truth, the black abolitionist and feminist former enslaved woman, be the suffering servant? Can Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. be the suffering servant? Can Harriet Tubman, Mother Theresa, the Apostle Paul, and all devoted followers of Christ Jesus walking through this wilderness existence be the suffering servant?
I’m not meaning to be heretical here or assume human beings can become divine like Christ or save other people like Christ. I am meaning to say that those who suffer because of sin—personal and systemic—bear the weight of that sin in their bodies. And in their suffering, they are connected more deeply to the Suffering Servant, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.
My friends, if you are suffering today, if you are carrying the weight of personal or systemic sin and injustice in your body—generational traumas going back for centuries—know that you are not alone. Christ, who bore the weight of sin, death, and the unjust powers that wounded his body and broke his bones, is with you right now in this Lenten wilderness place.
I can see Christ keep scooting closer to you until you are shoulder to shoulder. He coaxes your shoulder to drop a bit. With the kindest of love in his voice, Jesus whispers, “My child, don’t you know you are free in my love because my yoke is easy and burden is light? Take what I have to give you and give me what you were carrying.”
Releasing the tension of your suffering, the weighty burdens slide off of you and onto him—the Suffering Servant who provides rest for your soul and brings you peace.
“Surely he took up our pain and bore our suffering... by his wounds we are healed.”
With (love),
Bethany