CHAPTER VIII.

_THE PASSION OF GOD._

ISAIAH xlii. 13-17.

At the beginning of ch. xlii. we reach one of those distinct stages,

the frequent appearance of which in our prophecy assures us, that,

for all its mingling and recurrent style, the prophecy is a unity

with a distinct, if somewhat involved, progress of thought. For

while chs. xl. and xli. establish the sovereignty and declare the

character of the One True God before His people and the heathen, ch.

xlii. takes what is naturally the next step, of publishing to both

these classes His Divine will. This purpose of God is set forth in

the first seven verses of the chapter. It is identified with a human

Figure, who is to be God's agent upon earth, and who is styled _the

Servant of Jehovah_. Next to Jehovah Himself, the Servant of Jehovah

is by far the most important personage within our prophet's gaze.

He is named, described, commissioned and encouraged over and over

again throughout the prophecy; his character and indispensable work

are hung upon with a frequency and a fondness almost equal to the

steadfast faith, which the prophet reposes in Jehovah Himself. Were

we following our prophecy chapter by chapter, now would be the time

to put the question, Who is this Servant, who is suddenly introduced

to us? and to look ahead for the various and even conflicting

answers, which rise from the subsequent chapters. But we agreed, for

clearness' sake,[78] to take all the passages about the Servant,

which are easily detached from the rest of the prophecy, and treat

by themselves, and to continue in the meantime our prophet's main

theme of the Power and Righteousness of God as shown forth in the

deliverance of His people from Babylon. Accordingly, at present we

pass over xlii. 1-9, keeping this firmly in mind, however, that

God has appointed for His work upon earth, including, as it does,

the ingathering of His people and the conversion of the Gentiles,

a Servant,--a human figure of lofty character and unfailing

perseverance, who makes God's work of redemption his own, puts his

heart into it, and is upheld by God's hand. God, let us understand,

has committed His cause upon earth to a human agent.

God's commission of His Servant is hailed by a hymn. Earth answers

the proclamation of the _new things_ which the Almighty has declared

(ver. 9) by _a new song_ (vv. 10-13). But this song does not sing of

the Servant; its subject is Jehovah Himself.

_Sing to Jehovah a new song,_

_His praise from the end of the earth;_

_Ye that go down to the sea, and its fulness,_

_Isles, and their dwellers!_

_Let be loud,--the wilderness and its townships,_

_Villages that Kedar inhabits!_

_Let them ring out,--the dwellers of Sela!_

_From the top of the hills let them shout!

Let them give to Jehovah the glory,_

_And publish His praise in the Isles!_

_Jehovah as hero goes forth,_

_As a man of war stirs up zeal,_

_Shouts the alarm and battle cry,_

_Against his foes proves Himself hero._

The terms of the last four lines are military. Most of them will be

found in the historical books, in descriptions of the onset of Israel's

battles with the heathen. But it is no human warrior to whom they are

here applied. They who sing have forgotten the Servant. Their hearts

are warm only with this, that Jehovah Himself will come down to earth

to give the alarm, and to bear the brunt of the battle. And to such a

hope He now responds, speaking also of Himself and not of the Servant.

His words are very intense, and glow and strain with inward travail.

_I have long time kept my peace,_

_Am dumb and hold myself in:_

_Like a woman in travail I gasp,_

_Pant and palpitate together._

Remember it is God who speaks these words of Himself, and then think

what they mean of unshareable thought and pain, of solitary yearning

and effort. But from the pain comes forth at last the power.

_I waste mountains and hills,_

_And all their herb I parch;_

_And I have set rivers for islands,_

_And marshes I parch._

Yet it is not the passion of a mere physical effort that is in God;

not mere excitement of war that thrills Him. But the suffering of men

is upon Him, and He has taken their redemption to heart. He had said

to His Servant (vv. 6, 7): _I give thee ... to open the blind eyes,

to bring out from prison the bound, from the house of bondage the

dwellers in darkness._ But here He Himself puts on the sympathy and

strain of that work.

_And I will make the blind to walk in a way they know not,

By paths they know not I will guide them;

Turn darkness before them to light,

And serrated land to level.

These are the things that I do, and do not remit them.

They fall backwards, with shame are they shamed,

That put trust in a Carving,

That do say to a Cast, Ye are our Gods._[79]

Now this pair of passages, in one of which God lays the work of

redemption upon His human agent, and in another Himself puts on its

passion and travail, are only one instance of a duality that runs

through the whole of the Old Testament. As we repeatedly saw in the

prophecies of Isaiah himself,[80] there is a double promise of the

future through the Old Testament:--_first_, that God will achieve

the salvation of Israel by an extraordinary human personality, who

is figured now as a King, now as a Prophet and now as a Priest; but,

_second_ also, that God Himself, in undeputed, unshared power, will

come visibly to deliver His people and to reign over them. These two

lines of prophecy run parallel, and even entangled, through the Old

Testament, but within its bounds no attempt is made to reconcile

them. They pass from it still separate, to find their synthesis, as

we all know, in One of whom each is the incomplete prophecy. While

considering the Messianic prophecies of Isaiah, which run upon the

first of these two lines, we pointed out, that, though standing in

historical connection with Christ, they were not prophecies of His

divinity. Lofty and expansive as were the titles they attributed to

the Messiah, these titles did not imply more than an earthly ruler of

extraordinary power and dignity. But we added that in the other and

concurrent line of prophecy, and especially in those well-developed

stages of it which appear in Isa. xl.-lxvi., we should find the true

Old Testament promise of the Deity in human form and tabernacling

among men. We urged that, if the divinity of Christ was to be seen

in the Old Testament, we should more naturally find it in the line

of promise, which speaks of God Himself descending to battle and to

suffer by the side of men, than in the line that lifts a human ruler

almost to the right hand of God. We have now come to a passage, which

gives us the opportunity of testing this connection, which we have

alleged between the so-called anthropomorphism of the Old Testament,

and the Incarnation, which is the glory of the New.

When God presents Himself in the Old Testament as His people's

Saviour, it is not always as Isaiah mostly saw Him, in awful power

and majesty--a _King high and lifted up_, or _as coming from far,

burning and thick-rising smoke, and overflowing streams; causing the

peal of His voice to be heard, and the lighting down of His arm to be

seen, in the fury of anger and devouring fire--bursting and torrent

and hailstones_.[81] But in a large number of passages, of which

the one before us and the famous first six verses of ch. lxiii.

are perhaps the most forcible, the Almighty is clothed with human

passion and agony. He is described as loving, hating, showing zeal

or jealousy, fear, repentance and scorn. He bides His time, suddenly

awakes to effort, and makes that effort in weakness, pain and

struggle, so extreme that He likens Himself not only to a solitary

man in the ardour of battle, but to a woman in her unshareable

hour of travail. To use a technical word, the prophets in their

descriptions of God do not hesitate to be anthropopathic--imparting

to Deity the passions of men.

In order to appreciate the full effect of this habit of the Jewish

religion, we must contrast it with some principles of that religion,

with which at first it seems impossible to reconcile it.

No religion more necessarily implies the spirituality of God than

does the Jewish. It is true that in the pages of the Old Testament,

you will nowhere find this formally expressed. No Jewish prophet

ever said in so many words what Jesus said to the woman of Samaria,

_God is spirit_. In our own prophecy, _spirit_ is frequently used,

not to define the nature of God, but to express His power and

the effectiveness of His will. But the Jewish Scriptures insist

throughout upon the sublimity of God, or, to use their own term, His

holiness. He is the Most High, Creator, Lord,--the Force and Wisdom

that are behind nature and history. It is a sin to make any image of

Him; it is an error to liken Him to man. _I am God and not man, the

Holy One._[82] We have seen how absolutely the Divine omnipotence and

sublimity are expressed by our own prophet, and we shall find Him

again speaking thus: _My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are

your ways My ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than

the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways, and My thoughts than

your thoughts._[83] But perhaps the doctrine of our prophet which

most effectively sets forth God's loftiness and spirituality is his

doctrine of God's word. God has but to speak and a thing is created

or a deed done. He calls and the agent He needs is there; He sets

His word upon him and the work is as good as finished. _My word that

goeth forth out of My mouth, it shall not return unto Me void, but

it shall accomplish that which I please, and shall prosper in the

thing whereto I sent it._[84] Omnipotence could not farther go. It

would seem that all man needed from God was a word,--the giving of a

command, that a thing must be.

Yet it is precisely in our prophecy, that we find the most extreme

ascriptions to the Deity of personal effort, weakness and pain. The

same chapters which celebrate God's sublimity and holiness, which

reveal the eternal counsels of God working to their inevitable ends

in time, which also insist, as this very chapter does, that for the

performance of works of mercy and morality God brings to bear the

slow creative forces that are in nature, or which again (as in other

chapters) attribute all to the power of His simple word,--these same

Scriptures suddenly change their style and, after the most human

manner, clothe the Deity in the travail and passion of flesh. Why

is it, that instead of aspiring still higher from those sublime

conceptions of God to some consummate expression of His unity, as

for instance in Islam, or of His spirituality, as in certain modern

philosophies, prophecy dashes thus thunderously down upon our hearts

with the message, scattered in countless, broken words, that all this

omnipotence and all this sublimity are expended and realised for men

only in passion and in pain?

It is no answer, which is given by many in our day, that after all the

prophets were but frail men, unable to stay upon the high flight to

which they sometimes soared, and obliged to sacrifice their logic to

the fondness of their hearts and the general habit of man to make his

god after his own image. No easy sneer like that can solve so profound

a moral paradox. We must seek the solution otherwise, and earnest minds

will probably find it along one or other of the two following paths.

1. The highest moral ideal is not, and never can be, the

righteousness that is regnant, but that which is militant and

agonizing. It is the deficiency of many religions, that while

representing God as the Judge and almighty executor of righteousness,

they have not revealed Him as its advocate and champion as well.

Christ gave us a very plain lesson upon this. As He clearly

showed, when He refused the offer of all the kingdoms of the

world, the highest perfection is not to be omnipotence upon the

side of virtue, but to be there as patience, sympathy and love.

To will righteousness, and to rule life from above in favour of

righteousness, is indeed Divine; but if these were the highest

attributes of divinity, and if they exhausted the Divine interest in

our race, then man himself, with his conscience to sacrifice himself

on behalf of justice or of truth,--man himself, with his instinct to

make the sins of others his burden, and their purity his agonizing

endeavour, would indeed be higher than his God. Had Jehovah been

nothing but the righteous Judge of all the earth, then His witnesses

and martyrs, and His prophets who took to themselves the conscience

and reproach of their people's sins, would have been as much more

admirable than Himself, as the soldier who serves his country on the

battle-field or lays down his life for his people is more deserving

of their gratitude and more certain of their devotion, than the king

who equips him, sends him forth--and himself stays at home.

The God of the Old Testament is not such a God. In the moral warfare

to which He has predestined His creatures, He Himself descends to

participate. He is not abstract--that is, withdrawn--Holiness, nor

mere sovereign Justice enthroned in heaven. He is One who _arises and

comes down_ for the salvation of men, who makes virtue His Cause and

righteousness His Passion. He is no whit behind the chiefest of His

servants. No seraph burns as God burns with ardour for justice; no

angel of the presence flies more swiftly than Himself to the front

rank of the failing battle. The human Servant, who is pictured in our

prophecy, is more absolutely identified with suffering and agonizing

men than any angel could be; but even he does not stand more closely

by their side, nor suffer more on their behalf, than the God who sends

him forth. _For the Lord stirreth up jealousy like a man of war; in all

His people's affliction He is afflicted; against His enemies He beareth

Himself as a hero._ So much from the side of righteousness.

2. But take the equally Divine attribute of love. When a religion

affirms that God is love, it gives immense hostages. What is love

without pity and compassion and sympathy? and what are these but

self-imposed weakness and pain? Christ has told us of the greatest

love. _Greater love than this hath no man, that a man lay down his

life for his friends_; and the cost and sacrifice in which He thus

outmatched man is one that the prophets before He came did not

hesitate to impute to God. As far as human language is adequate for

such a task, they picture God's love for men as costing Him so much.

He painfully pleads for His people's loyalty; He travails in pain

for their new birth and growth in holiness; in all their affliction

He is afflicted; and He meets their stubbornness, not with the swift

sentence of outraged holiness, but with longsuffering and patience, if

so in the end He may win them. But the pain, that is thus essentially

inseparable from love, reaches its acme, when the beloved are not only

in danger but in sin, when not only the future of their holiness is

uncertain, but their guilty past bars the way to any future at all.

We saw how Jeremiah's love thus took upon itself the conscience and

reproach of Israel's sin; how much distress and anguish, how much

sympathy and self-sacrificing labour, and at last how much hopeless

endurance of the common calamity, that sin cost the noble prophet,

though he might so easily have escaped it all. Now even thus does God

deal with His people's sins; not only setting them in the light of His

awful countenance, but taking them upon His heart; making them not only

the object of His hate, but the anguish and the effort of His love.

Jeremiah was a weak mortal, and God is the Omnipotent. Therefore, the

issue of His agony shall be what His servant's never could effect,

the redemption of Israel from sin; but in sympathy and in travail the

Deity, though omnipotent, is no whit behind the man.

* * * * *

We have said enough to prove our case, that the true Old Testament

prophecy of the nature and work of Jesus Christ is found not so much

in the long promise of the exalted human ruler, for whom Israel's

eyes looked, as in the assurance of God's own descent to battle with

His people's foes and to bear their sins. In this God, omnipotent,

yet in His zeal and love capable of passion, who before the

Incarnation was afflicted in all His people's affliction, and before

the Cross made their sin His burden and their salvation His agony, we

see the love that was in Jesus Christ. For Jesus, too, is absolute

holiness, yet not far off. He, too, is righteousness militant at

our side, militant and victorious. He, too, has made our greatest

suffering and shame His own problem and endeavour. He is anxious for

us just where conscience bids us be most anxious about ourselves. He

helps us, because He feels when we feel our helplessness the most.

Never before or since in humanity has righteousness been perfectly

victorious as in Him. Never before or since, in the whole range of

being, has any one felt as He did all the sin of man with all the

conscience of God. He claims to forgive, as God forgives; to be

able to save, as we know only God can save. And the proof of these

claims, apart from the experience of their fulfilment in our own

lives, is that the same infinite love was in Him, the same agony and

willingness to sacrifice Himself for men, which we have seen made

evident in the Passion of God.

FOOTNOTES:

[78] See Introduction.

[79] So the grammar of the original.

[80] Vol. i., pp. 144, 334.

[81] Isa. xxxi.

[82] Hosea xi. 9.

[83] Ch. lv. 8, 9.

[84] _Ibid._ ver. 11.

The Expositor's Bible: The Book of Isaiah, Volume 2 (of 2) · 第 5 / 14 章