It is to be kept in view that the 'griefs' which the servant is here
described as bearing are literally 'sicknesses,' and that, similarly,
the 'sorrows' may be diseases. Matthew in his quotation of the verse
(viii. 17) takes the words to refer to bodily ailments, and finds their
'fulfilment' in Christ's miracles of healing. And that interpretation
is part of the whole truth, for Hebrew thought drew no such sharp line
of distinction between diseases of the body and those of the soul as we
are accustomed to draw. All sickness was taken to be the consequence of
sin, and the intimate connection between the two was, as it were, set
forth for all forms of bodily disease by the elaborate treatment
prescribed for leprosy, as pre-eminently fitted to stand as type of the
whole. But the fulfilment through the miracles is but a parable of the
deeper fulfilment in regard to the more virulent and deadly diseases of
the soul. Sin is the sickness, as it is also the grief, which most
afflicts humanity. Of the two words expressing the Servant's taking
their burden on His shoulders, the former implies not only the taking
of it but the bearing of it away, and the latter emphasises the weight
of the load.
Following Matthew's lead, we may regard Christ's miracles of healing as
one form of His fulfilment of the prophecy, in which the principles
that shape all the forms are at work, and which, therefore, may stand
as a kind of pictorial illustration of the way in which He bears and
bears away the heavier burden of sin. And one point which comes out
clearly is that, in these acts of healing, He felt the weight of the
affliction that He took away. Even in that region, the condition of
ability to remove it, was identifying Himself with the sorrow. Did He
not 'sigh and look up' in silent appeal to heaven before He could say,
Ephphatha? Did He not groan in Himself before He sent the voice into
the tomb which the dead heard? His miracles were not easy, though He
had all power, for He felt all that the sufferers felt, by the
identifying power of the unparalleled sympathy of a pure nature. In
that region His pain on account of the sufferers stood in vital
relation with His power to end their sufferings. The load must gall His
shoulders, ere He could bear it away from theirs.
But the same principles as apply to these deeds of mercy done on
diseases apply to all His deeds of deliverance from sorrow and from
sin. In Him is set forth in highest fashion the condition of all
brotherly help and alleviation. Whoever would lighten a brother's load
must stoop his own shoulders to carry it. And whilst there is an
element in our Lord's sufferings, as the text passes on to say, which
is not explained by the analogy with what is required from all human
succourers and healers, the extent to which the lower experience of
such corresponds with His unique work should always be made prominent
in our devout meditations.
II. The Servant's sufferings in their reason, their intensity, and
their issue.
The same measure that was meted out to Job by his so-called friends was
measured to the servant, and at the Impulse of the same heartless
doctrinal prepossession. He must have been had to suffer so much; that
is the rough and ready verdict of the self-righteous. With crashing
emphasis, that complacent explanation of the Servant's sufferings and
their own prosperity is shivered to atoms, by the statement of the true
reason for both the one and the other. You thought that He was
afflicted because He was bad and you were spared because you were
good--no, He was afflicted because _you_ were bad, and you were spared
because He was afflicted.
The reason for the Servant's sufferings was 'our transgressions.' More
is suggested now than sympathetic identification with others' sorrows.
This is an actual bearing of the consequences of sins which He had not
committed, and that not merely as an innocent man may be overwhelmed by
the flood of evil which has been let loose by others' sins to sweep
over the earth. The blow that wounds Him is struck directly and solely
at Him. He is not entangled in a widespread calamity, but is the only
victim. It is pre-supposed that all transgression leads to wounds and
bruises; but the transgressions are done by us, and the wounds and
bruises fall on Him. Can the idea of vicarious suffering be more
plainly set forth?
The intensity of the Servant's sufferings is brought home to our hearts
by the accumulation of epithets, to which reference has already been
made. He was 'wounded' as one who is pierced by a sharp sword;
'bruised' as one who is stoned to death; beaten and with livid weales
on His flesh. A background of unnamed persecutors is dimly seen. The
description moves altogether in the region of physical violence, and
that violence is more than symbol.
It is no mere coincidence that the story of the Passion reproduces so
many of the details of the prophecy, for, although the fulfilment of
the latter does not depend on such coincidences, they are not to be
passed by as of no importance. Former generations made too much of the
physical sufferings of Jesus; is not this generation in danger of
making too little of them?
The issue of the Servant's sufferings is presented in a startling
paradox. His bruises and weales are the causes of our being healed. His
chastisement brings our peace. Surely it is very hard work, and needs
much forcing of words and much determination not to see what is set
forth in as plain light as can be conceived, to strike the idea of
atonement out of this prophecy. It says as emphatically as words can
say, that we have by our sins deserved stripes, that the Servant bears
the stripes which we have deserved, and that therefore we do not bear
them.