THE SUFFERING SERVANT
PART II
And He has made My mouth like a sharp sword;
In the shadow of His hand He has hidden Me,
And made me a polished shaft;
In His quiver He has hidden Me.
And He said to me,
'You are My servant, O Israel,
In whom I will be glorified.'
Then I said, ‘I have labored in vain,
I have spent my strength for nothing and in vain;
Yet surely my just reward is with the LORD,
and my work with my God.'[1]
In this second Servant Song of Isaiah, as we continue to ponder how best to relate to suffering, we notice three things about the Suffering Servant:
1) He speaks forth the Word of God that pierces the hearts of mankind.
2) He has a special assignment in the purpose of God.
3) He is unable to see the victory in the midst of the press, yet He continually trusts God.
In this passage, we see the how God uses the Suffering Servant as a sword and as an arrow. In Revelation 19, the Messiah appears and is called the “Word of God.” A sharp sword proceeds from His mouth to strike the nations. The Word of God is sharper than a human sword and able to “divide our soul from our spirit, judging the attitudes of the heart.”[2] St. Augustine describes his conversion thus: “O Lord, Thou did strike my heart with Thy Word and I loved Thee.” God strikes our hearts, and makes manifest what is in them.
Likewise, our call during all times, but specifically in the end times, is to allow God to speak through us words, even arrows, of Truth that pierce the hearts of people, even wayward Israel, calling all back to God. The Word of God will divide those who hear it into two camps: those who will hear and obey, and those who will rise up in rebellion. We are and shall be arrows in the quiver of God. We can expect much rejection.
Quite a few years ago I had a startling dream: Many ministers were preaching, and there was a war. The ministers started to rise into the air and were suspended above the people. As they spoke, their words became as swords coming out of their mouths. Most of the swords were made of a jelly-like substance, and very few had swords of steel coming out of their mouths. Onlookers below were being ravaged by the war. They raised their arms to try to grab onto the swords in order to be pulled up out of the danger. Those that grabbed the swords made of jelly fell back because the jelly was not strong enough to carry them out of the danger. The few that could grab onto the steel swords were lifted above the battle to safety. The dream's interpretation seems obvious: some words save and some do not!
This passage also tells us that the Suffering Servant will be a specially crafted arrow in the quiver of God. Before arrows were made by mechanical means, they were each hand-crafted. Those who made each arrow had a chance to think about where that arrow would be headed as they formed and polished it. Like the Suffering Servant, each of us is a “Special Forces arrow” designed to be shot directly into the situation that God has in mind. There is something terribly satisfying about drawing back a bow, taking a deep breath as you aim for the target, and letting the arrow fly to its target. But what if you are the arrow and not the archer?
God completes His purposes through the sword being sent out and the arrow being shot out—and both involve a willingness to be sent wherever God decides! Part of what we must wrestle with is that God determines where we will be dispatched and what we must speak, and this brings us to the point I wish to highlight most: we can suffer because we may believe, whether it is true or not, that we have labored in vain. Our best efforts may seem to fail. All may seem lost. Yet there is no anguish that we need to stifle in this process. We do not need to be heroic while being obedient. We are not the final judge of whether we have succeeded or failed. We stand or fall on our obedience, not on our success.
Jesus suffered as He carried out what the Father sent Him to do. If anyone is an Arrow in the quiver of God, it is Christ. Here in this passage, (vs 3) He fears He has labored in vain. At Calvary, the moment of His greatest obedience, He cries out, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken Me?”[3] When He muses over His return, He says, “When I return, will I find faith on the earth?”[4] At Gethsemane He wrestles with God till blood presses through His pores, wanting to find another way out of the task He had agreed upon with the Father in a more comfortable place.[5]
Know that it is more than acceptable to cry out in our sufferings, to wonder if we have missed the mark, to lament, and to be pained to a point of crushing. The Psalms are full of this language so that we will not be afraid to pour ourselves out to God rather than simply remaining in the “nice zone” with Him. David didn't. Elijah didn't. Most importantly, Jesus didn't.
In the heat of the battle, I don't think any of us can see the whole picture. Often, obedience takes all of our attention, and being able to obey God without being sure of the desired outcome is a sign of great love and maturity even while being messy and painful. Suffering is not an end in itself; it is not something we need to like or something that earns us a merit badge with God. Suffering is just part of the package of agreeing to an assignment in enemy territory. It is the General who has ordered us into battle, and it is the General who will take responsibility for all that occurs. Trust Him. Obey Him. But don't be afraid to cry out. He will use our surrendered acts of obedience.
Rose-Marie Slosek came to know the Lord in the early seventies and has a passion for organic church and the maturing of the Body of Christ. She serves on the Emmaus Online Lead Team, leads Maranatha Northeast, and a local home fellowship. She can be reached at rmslosek@comcast.net.
[1] Isaiah 50:4-7
[2] Hebrews 5:8
[3] Daniel 11:33
[4] Daniel 11:35
[5] 1 Peter 4:12
[6] Zechariah 4:6
[7] Deuteronomy 6:5
