We are looking at the passages in the book of Isaiah that describe this figure “the Servant of the Lord”—a figure that the apostles are quite clear is the Messiah, Jesus. We’re doing this during the period that is traditionally called “Lent”: that’s the season of 40 days leading up to Easter. The 40 days match the 40 days that Jesus spent in the wilderness after his baptism.

These passages are especially suited for that period, and for a couple of reasons. The first is that, at Jesus’ baptism, a voice from heaven pronounced, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased”—which is a kind of mash-up of Psalm 2:7 and Isaiah 42:1 (the first Servant Song). The second reason these passages are suitable is that they combine the somber note of the Servant’s rejection and suffering that we connect with Good Friday, and the triumphant song of the Servant’s victorious and ever-expanding kingly rule that Jesus’ resurrection introduces.

These “Servant Songs” come from the prophet Isaiah, who was active from about 740 BC to about 680, a stretch of around 60 years. In the early part of his work he had to rebuke the faithless king Ahaz; then he encouraged the mostly faithful Hezekiah (who died in 686); Isaiah finished his work during the horrendous reign of Manasseh, the absolute pits. Jewish tradition has Isaiah as a martyr under Manasseh.

Through most of this time the two kingdoms, Judah in the south and Israel in the north, were subject kingdoms under the Assyrian Empire. During the reign of Ahaz of Judah, the northern kingdom Israel rebelled against the Assyrian overlords one time too many, and the Assyrians destroyed their capital  and sent the people into exile. One of the jobs the Lord gave to Isaiah was to warn the people of the southern kingdom, Judah—and especially their leaders—that the same could happen to them because of their unfaithfulness to the Lord’s gracious calling, to set a tone for their community life that really reflected his beauty and goodness.

Isaiah opens his book with a kind of overture, that the rest expands on. In 1:5–7 he offers a vision of what could happen if they don’t listen to him —. But then in 1:21–26 he makes it clear that even the most dire judgment (exile like that of their northern kin) will not be the end of their story, but rather a purification of the people, so that they can serve the purpose that God had for them when he called Abram: to embrace God’s gracious covenant from the heart, and to show in their community life what true human well-being really looks like—both for their own benefit, and for the benefit of their Gentile neighbors. In 2:2–4 the prophet makes this clear, and then in v. 5 he draws the conclusion.

So then in Isaiah 40 the prophet gives us a picture of what Jerusalem might look like when this terrible judgment comes: perhaps the wicked reign of Manasseh has made it clear that, while the people could still repent and avoid the exile, it is morally almost impossible (cf. 2 Kings 21:10–15). Isa. 40:1–5, even a catastrophe like exile is not the end of the story (return from east, ie.e., from Mesopotamia). And that’s the theme of this part of the prophet’s book.

Here is where the prophet introduces this strange figure, the “Servant of the Lord,” starting in 41:8–10. But then there are also four passages that are called “Servant Songs”: 42:1–9; 49:1–13; 50:1–11; 52:13–53:12. We’re looking at the second of these, and we can ask some simple questions:

1. Who is this Servant of whom you speak?

2. What will this Servant do?

3. When will he do it, and how?

4. Where do we come in?

1. Who is this Servant of whom you speak?

You may remember that the Ethiopian Eunuch was returning from a visit to Jerusalem to worship, when Philip the Evangelist met him on the road. He was a Gentile, and “was reading the prophet Isaiah” (Acts 8:28); as it turns out, he was reading Isa. 53:7–8, from the Fourth Servant Song. And he asked Philip, “About whom, I ask you, does the prophet say this, about himself or someone else?” People have been wondering the same thing for quite a while, and it isn’t just because they’re dull readers. The way Isaiah presents it requires a good cooperation with his style.

Modern Jewish scholars have tended to govern their reading by 41:8, where the Servant is the whole people; while some have narrowed it a little to the faithful within the people. But at least some Jews in the ancient period took the Servant as a specific person—in fact, the Messiah, just as the apostles did.

Let me show you why I think these ancient Jewish writers were right. First, it is certainly true that we start out with the Servant as a name for the whole people, we don’t stop there. In fact, in our passage, 49:5–6, the Servant is a specific person distinct from both Israel as a whole and the faithful (“the preserved”), with a calling to them and then beyond (“a light to the nations”).

As a matter of fact, we have the tools for thinking about this. All Israel is God’s son (Exod. 4:22–23), and the king in the line of David is also God’s “son” (2 Sam. 7:14; Psa. 2:7). Part of the job of each king in David’s line is to represent the whole people, and to embody them. In fact, the members of the people are called God’s “sons” or “children” (Deut. 14:1). In the same way, after these Servant passages, Isaiah calls believers (Jewish and Gentile proselytes) the Lord’s “servants” (e.g., 54:17; 56:6; 63:17; 65:8–9, 13–15; 66:14). So, the people as a whole are the Lord’s Servant, and the special royal person within that people is the Servant, and the members are the servants.

2. What will this Servant do?

In this picture, the job the Servant does is the job that belongs to the Davidic king: he is to be “a covenant to the people” (49:8, cf. 42:6), their representative in the Lord’s covenant. And he is not only to lead the people in lives of godliness (“bring Jacob back to him,” 49:5), but also to bring God’s light to all the Gentiles (“light for the nations,” 49:6, cf. 42:6). Why, this is the standard OT picture of what the Messiah is to do, as in Isa. 11:10 (cf. Psa. 72:8–11, 17).

This ties in to the very purpose for which God called Abraham to begin with, that in him all the families of the earth would be blessed. And it is exactly what Isaiah had foretold as God’s intention for the restored Jerusalem, that it would be a beacon of God’s light for all the world: 2:2–4 (and see how v. 4, “judge” & “decide disputes,” is just what the Messiah will do, 11:3–4).

In fact, the awareness of his own authority to call the Gentiles to listen to him (49:1) works well with the divine-human Messiah of 9:2–7: Only God has this kind of authority.

But this passage also brings in a strange note. It’s too light a thing (49:6), and all nature is invited to join in praise (v. 13); and when we combine this with 42:1–4 (“he will bring forth justice to the nations  … he will not faint or be discouraged till he has established justice in the earth”), we expect that he will be finally and completely victorious. And indeed he will, that’s what the Hebrew Bible teaches, and the apostles as well. But the Servant Songs also have a minor key, the way in which the Servant will encounter resistance, especially from his own people. Our v. 7 (“deeply despised, abhorred by the nation”) introduces it, and then the next two Servant Songs will develop it (with the Fourth majoring on it). But that resistance in no way thwarts God’s purpose.

3. When will he do it, and how?

The timing of this is left vague for Isaiah’s audience; the most they get is that it’s to be “in the latter days” (2:2), which Jews understood to be the era of the Messiah’s reign. The apostles held the same view: the Greek expression “the last days” that we find in the NT is in fact how the Hebrew expression “the latter days” is translated, and those days have begun with the resurrection of Jesus: he has now taken the throne of his father David, and is about the business of bringing his light to the Gentiles. So Jesus calls himself “the light of the world” (John 8:12; cf. Luke 2:32), meaning the world of Gentiles (as in v. 6).

That’s just what Jesus told his followers, in Acts 1:8: they’re to be his witnesses “in Jerusalem and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the earth”—using the phrase from our v. 6. Indeed, Paul cites our text as his justification for bringing the message to the Gentiles in Acts 13:47. Now is the time for that. “When the Gentiles heard this they began rejoicing and glorifying the word of the Lord,” as they surely should (Acts 13:48).

But how? Again, our text doesn’t really say, or at least not explicitly. But God called Israel to be a royal priesthood, to minister God’s light; and they were to do so by virtue of their community life being so governed by relational bonds of generosity, and mutual care, and square dealing, that the Gentiles would be drawn in to know, and trust, and love this God, the one true God, maker of heaven and earth. For the most part, the same is true of us, as we “proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light” (1 Pet. 2:9). Or, as Jesus put it, “Let your light so shine before others that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven” (Matt. 5:16).

Certainly we have specially designated folk such as evangelists and missionaries; their role matters a great deal. And at the same time we all, by the quality of our church’s community life, are one of God’s effective means of drawing all manner of Gentiles and Jews into the ever-expanding family.

4. Where do we come in?

And that brings us to the last point: Where do we come in? Well, the first thing is that this story includes us. The world began long before the day I was born; and I am the heir of all that has happened. What kind of story is it? It’s a story about how God made a good world, with a view to having his human creatures develop communities where the imitation of God would flourish. You would see, in a way suitable to our creatureliness, the divine love, and faithfulness, and purity, and creativity, and wisdom, on display in the lives of human beings. The disobedience of our first parents disrupted that; but God never let up on that same primal purpose, and redemption is all about restoring humans to it, of shaping a people made up of communities in which this is happening. We want to let that story defineus; it’s why each of us is here.

How do we play our part in the big story? By taking our place in this community; it’s really that simple.

There’s reassurance here, too. The Lord gave these visions to Isaiah long ago, and he has carried them out. He’s not finished yet, though: and he will certainly succeed in his purpose.

And yet our lives have much in them that confuses us, that troubles us, that hurts us. We probably feel that we are obligated to confess that the God who made the world is all-powerful; but does he care for me? And is his purpose just about the big things, and I’m just another brick in the wall?

And we have an answer: he has granted to us the privilege of membership in his people; we get to be his “servants,” for whom he made the world, and for each of whom he cares: “my servants [each one of them] shall sing for gladness of heart” (65:14)—eventually, when the whole story comes to its glorious conclusion.

The story of the world, in which you and I get to be players, is one driven by the good will of the Almighty. So this passage supplies us with courage, to face the pressures we feel: pressures from our own lives, and from the world around us. It also supplies us with encouragement: the Servant cares for us—the very fact that you’re here shows that.

Note: This post is adapted from speaking notes taken from a message given at The Covenant Presbyterian Church in St. Louis, MO. You can find the video here.