Isaiah 42:1-4--the Servant of the New (First Essay)

"Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen, in whom my soul delights; I have put my spirit upon him; he will bring forth justice to the nations. 2 He will not cry or lift up his voice, or make it heard in the street; 3 a bruised reed he will not break, and a dimly burning wick he will not quench; he will faithfully bring forth justice. 4 He will not grow faint or be crushed until he has established justice in the earth; and the coastlands wait for his teaching."

Introduction

This richly textured passage is not only a brilliant example of Isaiah's rhetorical and theological power, but it became important for Matthew in his account of Jesus' baptism (3:13-17). Jesus will be both Servant and Son, and this passage in Isaiah gives fuller insight into what that word "Servant" might mean. Impressive to me about this passage is what I call the fourfold role of this servant: (1) he is inconspicuous; (2) he is gentle; (3) he perseveres, and (4) he triumphs. Instead of the kings of the earth, or some of the chosen ones of God who show up with guns blazing and voices lifted up high, this servant will enjoy a different kind of ministry. Yet, the result will be that people from all the earth wait for his teaching (v. 4) and that he will empower the people to bring forth a new thing (v. 9). If you are looking for an "alternative ministry" for 2008, consider the work of this servant, learn and imitate.

Many scholars have pointed out that this passage is the first of Isaiah's four "servant" songs--descriptions of a special person who will bring salvation or justice to the earth. Commentator John Oswalt points to an "atmospheric change" in Isaiah whenever we run across one of these passages (the others are in 49:1ff; 50:4-9; 52:13-53:12). He says:

"It is difficult to define that change, yet most readers will acknowledge it. The language becomes more exalted and sweeping: the Servant is either left unidentified or identified in the broadest terms; the descriptions tend to be graphic and detailed; and there is a unique emphasis on what the Servant will accomplish for the world," The Book of Isaiah, Chapters 40-66, pp. 107-108.

Let's turn to this text, then, with the four points mentioned above as our anchor points.

II. The Servant--an Inconspicuous Servant

In outlining 42:1-4, we first notice that v. 1 acts as a sort of "headline" verse, summarizing in its words what will follow in vv. 2-4. This servant is both "grasped" by God and is the chosen one in whom God's soul delights. God is not said to delight in many things in Scripture--the created world, the creation of humans and now, the Servant--so we should pause and consider how the servant delights God. The first thing I notice is the relative invisibility or inconspicuousness of the Servant. Notice v. 2. It literally says, "He shall not cry our or lift up, and his voice shall not be heard in the streets." Prophets are supposed to cry out on God's behalf, aren't they? Indeed, one of the things that drove Jeremiah to near despair is that he cried out "violence and destruction," but no one seemed to listen. Amos was plucked from following the flock and given the command to speak to the people of the Israel. In fact, it is somewhat hard to imagine a prophet who doesn't speak out.

But that will not be the role of the Servant. He won't cry out. Most translations of v. 2 have "lift up his voice," or something approximating that. But the word "voice" isn't in the Hebrew. I prefer to stop with just the verb. He won't "lift up." What won't he "lift up?" His voice, of course, is one thing, but the verb nasah (lift up) is also used in the OT to describe the "arm" that is lifted up in battle. I choose to interpret nasah broadly here--he will not engage in that activity or "lift up" those kinds of weapons which you might expect him to lift up. This Servant, then, is quite an amazing figure. He renounces the two most prominent aspects of the prophetic and military "ministry" in Israel. How can he hope to get a following if he renounces the two things most respected at the time? It seems all rather hopeless, doesn't it?

It takes some moxie, which some would characterize as stupidity, to go against the dominant motifs of the time in living your life and practicing your ministry. How can the Servant hope to have influence if he spends his time being inconspicuous? Isn't he completely misunderstanding the way the world works? No indication is given in the text of how the Servant knows that his ministry is to be one of relative invisibility, but it will be so. I am beginning to like this guy...

III. The Gentleness of the Servant--v. 3

All we need to do is patiently keep reading the text, and the life of the Servant opens up right before our eyes. Instead of saying that he will be gentle, however, the author does something much more powerful: he gives two visual pictures of the Servant's work. He won't shatter the crushed reed; he won't extinguish the smoldering flax. As I look at the next period of my life, I want to make it a time of memorization. The first few words of v. 3 are worth memorizing. In Hebrew they say, "qaneh ratsuts lo yishbor." It is easy to say, and you might find it a good exercise for yourself to learn it! The verb appears at the end, and can best be translated "shatter" or "smash." Ratsuts is a passive participle, and is a great word to describe something that is pressed, oppressed or crushed. People are likened to "reeds," to those seemingly most vulnerable stalks that blow around in the wind and are sliced down in the annual harvest.

How do reeds become crushed or oppressed? By the forces of nature and of people. Reeds become smashed because of storms and diseases, because of people stomping over them, because of inadequate nourishment. We are reeds, subject to the forces of life that we cannot control and that sometimes descend on us with frightening speed and mercilessness. And so, we live our lives in a crushed condition. I have a friend who currently feels that now. She has gone through some significant trauma in the past few years and is seemingly emerging from it, but the trauma comes back to "bite her" every once in a while. She is a crushed reed, and seems sometimes to be so vulnerable to indifferent forces of life which would like nothing better than to crush her further. What news can you bring to a person in such a situation? Only this--that the Servant, in whom God's soul delights, won't crush her. Instead of tearing out the "unproductive" reeds or smashing them underfoot in the name of "economic development" to make a nice walkway for the tourists, the Servant will not crush one who has been bruised. Perhaps the Servant can do this because he doesn't lift up his voice too loudly. He knows the weaknesses and abundant vulnerabilities of people and decides that the best thing to do is to caress and hold the crushed reeds and not to destroy it further.

The image changes in the second part of the verse. He also won't quench the flickering or smoldering flax. Oswalt has a great translation or description of this candle-like flax that the Servant won't extinguish. He says:

"[The Servant] will not even puff out the most dimly guttering lamp wick," p. 111.

I confess, I had to look up the word "guttering"! The Oxford English Dictionary (def. # 5 under the verb "gutter") says: "Of a candle: To melt away rapidly by its becoming channeled on one side and the tallow or wax pouring down.." Then it gives yet another synonym: "to sweal." "Sweal" means many things, but can mean "to melt away" or, figuratively, "to waste away."

I need one more essay to finish these thoughts.

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