How Sweet the Name: Suffering Servant | Isa. 52:13-53:12; Luke 22:14-62
March 25, 2016 | Brian Hedges
Well, welcome this evening to our Good Friday service. For the last number of weeks, those of you who have been with us on Sunday mornings, we’ve been looking at the names of Jesus. We’ve looked at names such as “Jesus” and “Emmanuel”. We’ve looked at images of Christ like “Husband” and “Physician”, “Fountain”. We’ve looked at the offices of Christ—Prophet, Priest, and King, and then in the last several weeks we’ve looked at those great names of Jesus, Son of God and Son of Man.
Tonight we come to one of the most important portraits of Jesus in all of Scripture, the portrait of the Suffering Servant. This portrait is rooted, of course, in the fourth servant song in Isaiah 52, verse 13 through chapter 53 verse 12, from which we’ve already heard a couple of readings tonight.
It’s a very important passage in shaping the New Testament writers’ understanding of Jesus. There are seven direct quotations of Isaiah 53 in scripture and close to three dozen allusions, depending on who’s counting. For example, as we saw last week, Jesus alluded to the Suffering Servant when he said that the Son of Man came “not to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” That’s in Matthew chapter 20, verse 28.
Or take Acts chapter eight, where Philip joins with the Ethiopian eunuch who’s reading Isaiah 53 in his chariot. You remember that Philip asked this man, “Do you understand what you’re reading?” The man said, “How can I, except someone teach me?” So Philip climbed up into his chariot and, as the historian Luke tells us, Philip opened his mouth and, beginning with this Scripture, told him the good news about Jesus.
Or take the apostle Peter, who seems to have especially grasped the significance of Jesus as the Suffering Servant, the significance of Isaiah 53. He quotes it in relation to Jesus in his first letter, 1 Peter 2:24 “He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed.”
So it’s evident that the gospel writers, the apostles, Luke the historian, Philip the evangelist—they all understood Isaiah 53 to be pointing to Jesus. One of the most important of those seven quotations of Isaiah 53 is found in the gospel of Luke in the twenty-second chapter. That’s where I want to ground our thoughts this evening, Luke chapter 22. We’re going to read a fairly lengthy passage from verses 14 down through verse 62.
As we read through it you’ll notice the movements as we begin with the supper, the Last Supper, the Passover supper, that Jesus ate with his disciples, and then it moves to the garden, and then from the garden to the scene of Jesus’ betrayal, and then to the scene of Peter’s denial.
Let’s read this passage, Luke chapter 22, beginning in verse 14.
And when the hour came, he reclined at table, and the apostles with him. And he said to them, “I have earnestly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer. For I tell you I will not eat it until it is fulfilled in the kingdom of God.” And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he said, “Take this, and divide it among yourselves. For I tell you that from now on I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes.” And he took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” And likewise the cup after they had eaten, saying, “This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood. But behold, the hand of him who betrays me is with me on the table. For the Son of Man goes as it has been determined, but woe to that man by whom he is betrayed!” And they began to question one another, which of them it could be who was going to do this.
A dispute also arose among them, as to which of them was to be regarded as the greatest. And he said to them, “The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them, and those in authority over them are called benefactors. But not so with you. Rather, let the greatest among you become as the youngest, and the leader as one who serves. For who is the greater, one who reclines at table or one who serves? Is it not the one who reclines at table? But I am among you as the one who serves.
“You are those who have stayed with me in my trials, and I assign to you, as my Father assigned to me, a kingdom, that you may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom and sit on thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel.
“Simon, Simon, behold, Satan demanded to have you, that he might sift you like wheat, but I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned again, strengthen your brothers.” Peter said to him, “Lord, I am ready to go with you both to prison and to death.” Jesus said, “I tell you, Peter, the rooster will not crow this day, until you deny three times that you know me.”
And he said to them, “When I sent you out with no moneybag or knapsack or sandals, did you lack anything?” They said, “Nothing.” He said to them, “But now let the one who has a moneybag take it, and likewise a knapsack. And let the one who has no sword sell his cloak and buy one. For I tell you that this Scripture must be fulfilled in me: ‘And he was numbered with the transgressors.’ For what is written about me has its fulfillment.” And they said, “Look, Lord, here are two swords.” And he said to them, “It is enough.”
And he came out and went, as was his custom, to the Mount of Olives, and the disciples followed him. And when he came to the place, he said to them, “Pray that you may not enter into temptation.” And he withdrew from them about a stone’s throw, and knelt down and prayed, saying, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.” And there appeared to him an angel from heaven, strengthening him. And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly; and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground. And when he rose from prayer, he came to the disciples and found them sleeping for sorrow, and he said to them, “Why are you sleeping? Rise and pray that you may not enter into temptation.”
While he was still speaking, there came a crowd, and the man called Judas, one of the twelve, was leading them. He drew near to Jesus to kiss him, but Jesus said to him, “Judas, would you betray the Son of Man with a kiss?” And when those who were around him saw what would follow, they said, “Lord, shall we strike with the sword?” And one of them struck the servant of the high priest and cut off his right ear. But Jesus said, “No more of this!” And he touched his ear and healed him. Then Jesus said to the chief priests and officers of the temple and elders, who had come out against him, “Have you come out as against a robber, with swords and clubs? When I was with you day after day in the temple, you did not lay hands on me. But this is your hour, and the power of darkness.”
Then they seized him and led him away, bringing him into the high priest’s house, and Peter was following at a distance. And when they had kindled a fire in the middle of the courtyard and sat down together, Peter sat down among them. Then a servant girl, seeing him as he sat in the light and looking closely at him, said, “This man also was with him.” But he denied it, saying, “Woman, I do not know him.” And a little later someone else saw him and said, “You also are one of them.” But Peter said, “Man, I am not.” And after an interval of about an hour still another insisted, saying, “Certainly this man also was with him, for he too is a Galilean.” But Peter said, “Man, I do not know what you are talking about.” And immediately, while he was still speaking, the rooster crowed. And the Lord turned and looked at Peter. And Peter remembered the saying of the Lord, how he had said to him, “Before the rooster crows today, you will deny me three times.” And he went out and wept bitterly.
This is the Word of the Lord.
So obviously we can’t cover everything in this passage, but I do want you to see the servant song themes as they’re woven through the passage. In verse 20, where Jesus says, “This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood,” there’s perhaps an illusion there to Isaiah 53:12, “He poured out his soul to death.”
Then in verse 27 as the disciples are arguing about who will be the greatest, Jesus reminds them, “I am among you as one who serves.” It’s not a direct quote from Isaiah 53, but elsewhere in the gospels Jesus’ description of himself as a servant is always informed by Isaiah’s servant songs.
But the real clincher is verse 37, where Jesus directly quotes Isaiah 53: “For I tell you,” he says, “that the Scripture must be fulfilled in me: ‘And he was numbered with the transgressors.’ For what is written about me has its fulfillment.”
New Testament scholars David Pao and Edward Schnabel say that in “placing the quotation from Isaiah 53 at the beginning of the passion narrative, and prefacing that quotation by this long introductory formula, Luke wants his readers to understand that Isaiah’s fourth servant song is the hermeneutical key to the narrative of Jesus’ suffering and death.”
So right here, Luke, quoting Jesus, is giving us an insight into everything that will follow. Everything that follows from this point forward is to be understood in the light of Isaiah 53.
If I could use kind of a simple illustration: you know when you go to a movie and you see it in 3-D, you put on glasses, and once the glasses are on you see certain aspects of the film in another dimension. In a way, Isaiah 53 is the 3-D glasses, the spectacles through which we look and understand the gospel narratives. As we read the story of Jesus in Gethsemane and his betrayal and his passion and all will follow, we understand it and we see it in all of its dimensions only when we read it through the lens of Isaiah 53.
So I want us to do that tonight. I just want us to focus on the suffering of Christ for a few moments, and then as we near the end I want us to think about our response, what should our response be to his suffering.
So let’s think about Jesus’ suffering. Let me suggest to you three dimensions of Jesus’ suffering that we see in this passage and as we see it interpreted from Isaiah 53.
I. Jesus suffered mentally and emotionally
II. Jesus suffered physically
III. Jesus suffered spiritually
I. Jesus suffered mentally and emotionally
He suffered mentally and emotionally. Isaiah called him “a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief, the one who has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows.” We especially see this with Jesus in the garden, in verses 39 and following. I’m not going to read it again, but notice especially verse 44, where it says, “And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly; and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground.”
He was in an agony. Mark in his gospel uses another word, a very vivid word and a rare word, the word “troubled”. J.B. Lightfoot said that word “describes the confused, restless, half-distracted state which is produced by physical derangement or by mental distress, as grief or shame or disappointment.”
Jesus is becoming unhinged emotionally as he looks toward the cross, as he contemplates all that is going to follow. It’s a deep emotional, mental distress. That’s especially evident in the sweat that came out as great drops of blood.
This is a medical condition called hematidrosis; sometimes occurs in individuals suffering from extreme levels of stress, when the blood vessels around the sweat glands contract and then dilate, causing rupture. The sweat glands then push the congealed blood to the surface, giving the appearance of sweating blood. It’s a very rare condition; it would be very rare that any physician would see this condition today, but this is what Jesus experienced, so extreme was his stress, his anxiety, his emotional suffering.
The garden, like nowhere else, pries open a window into what B.B. Warfield called “the emotional life of our Lord.” For in the bowers of that olive grove, we see the sinless Son of Man wrestling in the sad loneliness of isolation, with the fearful anguish of impending death. Warfield said, “In these supreme moments our Lord sounded the ultimate depths of human anguish.” He sounded the depths, he experienced a kind of emotional suffering and torment that no one else has suffered. In his agony in the garden we see the suffering of Jesus in his emotions, and then we can add to that the betrayal of Judas and the distress that that caused, and then the denial of Peter, the forsaking of the disciples. And then, when you get into Luke chapter 23, the emotions of shame as he is mocked, scoffed, and shamed, and tortured by the soldiers.
The poet George Herbert wrote a poem called “The Sacrifice.” It’s written as if Jesus himself were speaking, and each stanza ends with the refrain—it’s repeated 60 times—“Was ever grief like mine?” Here’s just one stanza:
“Shame tears my soul, my body many a wound;
Sharp nails pierce this, but sharper that confound;
Reproaches, which are free, while I am bound.
Was ever grief like mine?”
So we see here the emotional suffering of Jesus.
II. Jesus suffered physically
But then secondly, we see, of course, the physical suffering of Jesus. And again, I just remind you of Isaiah 53, and I want you to note, as I read a couple of verses, the physicality of the language, the violence of the language. Verse five: “But he was pierced for our transgressions.” The Old Testament commentator Franz Delitzsch said that this word is the strongest term for violent and excruciating death in the Hebrew language. “He was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities.” The word crushed suggests breaking into pieces, in some cases being pulverized.
“On him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed.” Verse seven: “He was oppressed, he was afflicted, like a lamb that is led to the slaughter.” And then verses eight and nine clear away any possible doubt his physical suffering will extend even to death. He’s “cut off out of the land of the living, he makes his grave with the wicked,” and in verse 12, “he poured out his soul to death.”
His sufferings were physical sufferings, and we see that in the gospels as they describe both the scourging of Jesus and the crucifixion of Jesus. The scourging, or as the apostle John calls it, the flogging; Jesus was flogged in John 19:1. The other gospels writers Matthew and Mark say he was scourged. The scourging itself, of course, was enough to kill a man.
John MacArthur, in his book The Murder of Jesus, writes, “Scourging alone was sometimes fatal,” and then he gives a very vivid, although hard-to-listen-to, hard-to-hear description. “A Roman scourge,” he says, “was a short wooden handle with numerous long lashes of leather attached to it. Each leather strip had a sharp piece of glass or metal or bone or other hard objects attached to the end of it.
“The victim would be stripped of all clothing and then was tied to a post by his wrists, with hands high enough over his head to virtually lift him from the ground. The feet would be dangling and the skin on the back and buttocks completely taut. One or two scourge-bearers, called lictors, would then deliver blows, skillfully laying the lashes diagonally across the back and the buttocks with extreme force. The skin would literally be torn away, and often muscles were deeply lacerated. It was not uncommon for the scourge-wounds to penetrate deep into the kidneys, or lacerate arteries, causing wounds that in themselves proved fatal. Some victims died from extreme shock during the flogging.”
That alone—the brutality of it—is enough to shock us and confound us. But that was then followed by crucifixion. Crucifixion. The word crucifixion and the word cross signified a form of execution that was shameful, that was so despised, that Cicero said, “Let it never be uttered by Roman lips.” Don’t even use the word. It was an obscenity! It was a bad word, to even speak of it. That’s how awful it was.
Of course you’ve heard the descriptions of the crucifixion as well. The hands and the wrists would be pierced with nails, and the feet as well, and the victim would be hung from the cross in a position such that only by pushing himself up on the nails could he get another breath, and eventually he would die of asphyxiation as he struggled to breathe with all of the weakness. It was an awful form of death.
These were the physical sufferings of Jesus. Is it any wonder that Isaiah says of the Servant, near the beginning of that fourth servant song, that “his appearance was so marred” that it was “beyond human semblance.”
Sinclair Ferguson, quoting in part someone else, says, “Those who saw him stepped back in horror, not only saying, ‘Is this the servant?’ but, “Is this human?” Jesus has to be marred beyond human semblance to go down into the uncharted waters where, as he is covered in our sin, God no longer sees his own reflection in his Son. In that cold and dark place a kind of deep disintegration of being took place. The proper man feels as if he is being unmanned. As he meditates on Psalm 22, does Jesus pause on the words, ‘But I am a worm and no man’?”
Jesus experiences the worst dehumanization, the worst, most degrading forms of physical and mental abuse as he hangs on the cross.
III. Jesus suffered spiritually
But not only do we have this emotional suffering and this physical suffering. There’s also—and I struggle to even find language for it—there’s also a spiritual suffering, or maybe we could call it judicial suffering, or theological suffering. A suffering that wasn’t only emotional, and it wasn’t only physical, but a suffering that took place in the heart of Jesus as he bore our sins, and the judgment for our sins, on the cross.
Why did he suffer as he did? Why did he experience the dread as he thought about this cup that he was to drink? Many people have pointed out that there have been martyrs through history who have faced a stake or crucifixion or some kind of torture. They faced it with incredible courage and buoyancy and singing in the flames. We think about the English martyrs of the Reformation, Latimer and Ridley and these guys. But why is Jesus pulling back from the cup and saying, “Father, if it’s possible let this cup pass from me”?
It wasn’t just because of the physical suffering. It was because of why he was suffering, and because of what he was spiritually suffering in and through the crucifixion. What he was suffering was nothing less than the judgment of God against us. That’s why I call it a judicial suffering. It was God’s judgment being poured out on Jesus for our sins.
Again, you see it in Isaiah 53. You see it in the substitution language. Verse five: “He was wounded for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities, upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his stripes we are healed.” Verse six: “The Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.”
Verse eight: “He was stricken for the transgression of my people.” Verse 11: “He shall bear their iniquities.” Verse 12: “He bore the sin of many and makes intercession for the transgressors.”
John Oswalt in his commentary on Isaiah points out that this language of carrying and bearing has its roots in the book of Leviticus, where, in the book of Leviticus, on the Day of Atonement, the scapegoat would carry the sins of the people. He would bear the sins of the people. It’s the language of the sin offering upon which the sins of God’s people are confessed. That’s the language here.
This is Isaiah telling us that Jesus is dying as the sin offering, he’s dying as the sacrificial Lamb. He’s dying as the substitute; he’s dying in our place. That’s the background of this language in Isaiah, and this is what Jesus quotes as he moves towards the cross.
Again, Luke 22:37. “I tell you that the Scripture must be fulfilled in me: ‘And he was numbered with the transgressors.’ For what is written about me has its fulfillment.”
So we see here the deepest dimension of Jesus’ suffering as he died for our sins, as he died in our place, bearing this judicial sentence of God’s wrath and judgment against us.
Perhaps, of all the passages of Scripture, the one that summarizes it best is Second Corinthians 5:21. “For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” He became sin for us that we might become righteousness in and through him.
Now nobody’s ever expressed this more powerfully, I don’t think, than Martin Luther. I want to read you his comments on Isaiah 53:6. Luther said that “all the prophets did foresee in spirit that Christ should become the greatest transgressor, murderer, adulterer, thief, rebel, blasphemer, etc. that ever was or could be in all the world. For he, being made a sacrifice for the sins of the whole world, is not now an innocent person and without sins, but a sinner.”
It’s almost blasphemous, what he says; it’s almost blasphemous. But Luther doesn’t mean that Jesus personally became a sinner, he means that Jesus who took our sins by imputation was treated by God as if he was a sinner.
Then Luther goes on, “Our most merciful Father...sent his only Son into the world and laid upon him...the sins of all men saying: Be thou Peter that denier; Paul that persecutor, blasphemer and cruel oppressor; David that adulterer; that sinner which did eat the apple in Paradise; that thief which hanged upon the cross; and briefly be thou the person which hath committed the sins of all men; see therefore that thou pay and satisfy for them. Here now comes the law and saith: I find him a sinner...therefore let him die upon the cross. And so he setteth upon him and killeth him. By this means the whole world is purged and cleansed from all sins."
We stretch language to try to describe what this meant, as Jesus bore a judicial suffering, suffering at the hand of God. The poets say it best, don’t they?
Bearing shame and scoffing rude,
In my place condemned he stood,
Sealed my pardon with his blood.
Hallelujah, what a Savior!”
Or this:
What thou, my Lord, hath suffered
Was all for sinners’ gain.
Mine, mine was the transgression,
But thine the deadly pain.
So we see here our Lord’s suffering. He’s the suffering Servant—suffering emotionally and mentally, suffering physically, and then suffering spiritually under the hand of God himself, God his Father, as wrath and judgment that we deserved is poured out on Jesus, and Jesus cries out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”
Our Response
Now, what’s our response to this? I trust that as we reflect on these things, as we think about these things, that you’re moved. But it’s all too easy for us to sing these songs and read these texts that we’ve read perhaps dozens of times before, to discuss these doctrines of substitution, substitutionary atonement, to hear all of these things and not be as moved as we should be. So it’s important for us to connect the dots, to draw the lines of connection between our doctrine and our experience.
So I just want to move us to the Lord’s table by thinking for just a minute about our need for salvation by using Peter as something of a mirror for ourselves. Okay? That’s one reason I read this full passage, because it’s not just the story of what happened to Jesus, it’s the story of what happened to Peter.
You remember that when Peter first heard Jesus talk about the cross, he didn’t understand it. As we saw in the passage in Matthew 16 last week, not only did he not understand it, he stumbled at it. He was offended by it. He protests! He rebukes Jesus! “Never let it be, Lord, that you should suffer, that this should happen to you.” And Jesus then has to rebuke Peter.
So Peter doesn’t understand. He could understand that Jesus was the Messiah. He could accept that Jesus was the Son of God, but he couldn’t grasp, at this point, that he was the Suffering Servant. That’s why it’s so significant that in his letter he makes it so explicit by quoting Isaiah 53. He came to grasp this.
And then we come to the night of Jesus’ betrayal, and they eat the Passover meal together, and as we read earlier in Luke 22, Jesus tells Peter that Satan has desired to have him and to sift him like wheat. Peter again protests. “Lord, I’m ready to go with you, both to prison and to death!” And Jesus tells him, “Peter, before the rooster crows you’re going to deny me three times.”
You know what happens. You know the story. You see it at the end of this passage, where Peter denies the Lord three times by morning, and after that third denial Luke tells us (this is verse 61) that “the Lord turned and looked at Peter, and he remembered the saying of the Lord, how he had said to him, ‘Before the rooster crows today you will deny me three times.’”
I think that when we read this story we have to put ourselves in Peter’s shoes. We have to put ourselves in the shoes of the disciples and say, “Is it I, Lord?” We have to use this as a mirror for ourselves and to realize that just as Peter was not as virtuous and courageous and righteous as he thought he was, neither are we. Even when we feel like we’re at our best, there are cracks beneath the surface, there are flaws in our character, that Jesus sees. There are sins in our lives that are effectively our denials of Jesus.
And just as Peter had to suffer irreparable damage to his self-concept, his self-worth, his self-perception, irreparable damage, so you and I need to be devastated by seeing our sins, and only then will we come to appreciate the grace of the Savior.
So, in application tonight, I just ask us this question: have you seen this abyss of wickedness that’s in your heart? Do you realize that, given the right circumstances and sufficient temptations and just enough pressure, that you’re capable of the worst possible sins? You’re capable of things that you would never dream of doing on your good days. Has God begun to unveil your heart to yourself?
You know, sometimes I think God, in a very severe mercy, especially when we’re becoming self-sufficient and we’re trying to do things on our own or we’re becoming neglectful of him, sometimes he lets us go just long enough for us to begin to see how desperately wicked we are, and then to look, where we’re reminded once again of how desperately we need the grace of the cross.
I want to close in this way: in one of his lesser-known hymns that great pastor, hymn-writer John Newton, converted slave-trader, author of “Amazing Grace”; he wrote a wonderful hymn essentially in the person of Peter, as if he’s Peter, and the hymn is called “The Look”. It’s a hymn that confronts us with the depth of our sins and also the depth of the Savior’s love. Let me just read it to you.
I saw one hanging on a tree,
In agony and blood,
Who fixed His loving eyes on me,
As near His cross I stood,
And never till my dying breath
Will I forget that look.
It seemed to charge me with His death,
Though not a word He spoke.
My conscience felt and owned the guilt
And plunged me in despair,
I saw my sins His blood had spilt
And helped to nail Him there,
But with a second look He said,
“I freely all forgive;
This blood is for your ransom paid;
I died that you might live.”
Thus while His death my sin displays
For all the world to view,
Such is the mystery of grace,
It seals my pardon too;
With pleasing grief and mournful joy
My spirit now is filled,
That I should such a life destroy,
Yet live by Him I killed.
Let’s pray.
Father, enlarge our hearts and warm our affections. Open our lips, supply words that proclaim love shines at Calvary. For there grace removes our burdens and heaps them on your Son, who was made a transgressor, a curse, and sin for us. There the sword of your justice smote the man, your fellow, there the infinite attributes were magnified and infinite atonement was made. There infinite punishment was due, and infinite punishment was endured.
Christ was all anguish that we might be all joy, cast off that we might be brought in, trodden down as an enemy that we might be welcomed as friends. He surrendered to hell’s worst that we might attain heaven’s best, he was stripped that we might be clothed, wounded that we might be healed, thirsty that we might drink, tormented that we might be comforted, shamed that we might inherit glory. He entered into darkness that we might have eternal light. He wept all tears so that tears might be wiped from our eyes, and he groaned that we might have endless song.
Thank you for the gift of your Son. Thank you, Lord Jesus, for laying down your life for us. Thank you, Holy Spirit, for opening our eyes to see the beauty and the glory of the love of our dying Savior. Now draw near to us we pray as we come to your table. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
(This prayer was adapted from “Love Lustres at Calvary” in The Valley of Vision)
Brian G. Hedges
