30. The Fellowship of His Suffering (Isaiah 53)
Again, we come in our survey to a passage which
critics of our viewpoint would argue has “nothing to do with
fellowship”. And in one sense they would be correct. The word itself does
not appear at all in the chapter. But the best students of the Bible must agree
that, in the close study of any divine subject, the more broadly based our
conclusions are, the better. The All-wise Father does not teach His children by
simple assertion only; if He did, then our Bible would need be no more lengthy
than our Statement of Faith. But He teaches us also by type, parable, history,
prophecy, and example. Foremost among the examples given for our instruction is
His only-begotten Son. The example of Christ’s sacrificial life,
culminating in a cruel, lingering death, speaks volumes to the reflective soul
concerning “fellowship”. We might even say that
“fellowship” is the main theme of Isaiah 53, for it tells us
of Christ’s sharing, his partaking of our
infirmities.
Isaiah 53 is a mountain peak of God’s Word.
I will not attempt an exhaustive, or even a brief exposition of the chapter as a
whole. This has been done very ably by others, and their efforts will be
well-known to most. Let us simply consider the chapter as it relates to our
fellowship experiences and responsibilities, as a moral issue and not a
“theological” one (in the common sense of the
word).
No man of faith can stand before the
cross. It is perpetually holy ground — this mysterious place of meeting
between God and man. The perceptive disciple approaches the mercy seat on his
knees; he finds there no place to display his own strength or wisdom or
cleverness. All the qualities that develop pride in natural man are driven from
him further and further with each blow of the hammer upon the Roman spikes. As
his awareness deepens, he must finally acknowledge that the cross of Christ has
become, not a set of logical premises to be thrown back and forth in legalistic
debate, but rather a moral mandate. As the rising of the sun drives away the
darkness and creates each day a new world, God’s love for man as
demonstrated in Christ’s death and resurrection forever changes the
spiritual landscape for the believer. Every issue of his life must now be viewed
in the peculiar divine glow emanating from Golgotha.
And thus our fellowship, with the Father and the
Son and with one another, is seen against the background of Christ’s
sacrifice. Here is the practical expression of his fellowship with us, his
brethren. This should be our example of action toward one
another.
To those of us who have been accustomed to read
Isaiah 53 as related only to the last day or so of our Savior’s mortal
life, the quotation in Matthew 8:16,17 comes as quite a
surprise:
“When the evening was come, they brought
unto him many demoniacs.... and he healed all that were sick: that it might be
fulfilled which was spoken by Isaiah the prophet, saying, ‘He took our
infirmities and bore our diseases.’ ”
Surely these verses are telling us that
Christ’s sympathy for poor suffering humanity was an intensely personal
feeling. We can imagine no stronger words to convey the closeness, the unity,
the fellowship of suffering. Here is no theoretical transferal of guilt or
sin-effect; there is no ritual, no ceremony about it — it is real, as real
as it can be! This man was one of us. He stood before the tomb of a friend and
shed real tears. Our weaknesses were his... are his still, this high priest who
was touched so deeply with the sensation of our infirmities, and who carried it
with him into the most holy place. For our griefs are his, our sorrows also. For
us he was willing to die; for us, finally and conclusively, he did die. And not
just for “us” as a whole or a concept or an abstraction, but... this
is the real wonder.... he died for each one of us! Had there been only
one sinner, Christ would have still been willing to die. When each of us stands
before the judgment seat, he will be looking into the eyes of a man who gave his
life, personally and individually, for him.
Yes, it truly is a marvel: The Savior of mankind
suffered for sinners. For the man who blasphemed God’s Holy Name, Christ
spent sleepless nights in prayer. For the man who coveted, and even took, his
neighbor’s wife, Christ denied himself all fleshly indulgences. For the
man who in hot anger or cold hatred slew his brother, Christ bore the Roman
scourge that tore his flesh and exposed his bones and nerves. And for us,
“righteous” as we might be in the ordinary
“middle-of-the-road” sense, but sinners at heart if we would but
admit it, consumed with petty jealousies and grumblings, unthankful, lazy, and
often indifferent — yes, for people like us — Christ, the holiest of
all men, groaned and bled and died.
What does it really mean, to bear the griefs and
sorrows of another? As exemplified in Christ, it was more, much more, than a
mechanical “burden-bearing”. It was a “living
sacrifice”, a way of life that denied the lusts of the flesh within
himself, while at the same time loving and striving continuously for the
well-being of his brethren who could not, or did not, so deny themselves. And
when they failed, and failed miserably, he bore with their failures and never
gave way to “righteous”, condemning anger — but only expressed
sorrow and gentle rebuke. Was there ever such a man? “For even Christ
pleased not himself” (Rom. 15:3).
“The Lord hath laid upon him the iniquity
of us all.” “He was wounded for our
transgressions.” Here again we Christadelphians so quickly lapse into
the “technical” aspects (the word here almost seems sacrilegious) of
Christ’s sacrifice. We carefully point out that Christ did not bear the
guilt of our sins, and that he did not die in our stead. And there is
nothing wrong with saying such things, in their proper place. But, is it not
possible that we are missing the main point? Call it what you will, hedge it
about with exceptions and careful definitions, when all is said and done, HE DID
DIE — and that is the important issue!
Let us be careful here; let us examine ourselves.
In our zeal for “truth”, are we so caught up in the theory that the
fact is almost ignored? Do we suppose that when we have explained, in
man’s imperfect language, why Christ died, on a legal basis —
that our conception of the cross is complete? No, brethren. This man died
because he loved to the uttermost his brethren. Here is the lesson.
Christ’s way of life, the “fellowship” he practiced in regular
interaction with his brethren, is the challenge to us. Do we perceive that love
as an impossible theory — or as a reality, to be reproduced and practiced
by us, here and now? Our Savior calls us, he commands us, he entreats us,
insofar as we can, to do as he did. He sets before us an ecclesial life of
difficulties, of sorrows, of problems — and he tells us: ‘Bear the
infirmities, even the iniquities of your brethren. I died for them; you must
live for them. I did not please myself; neither should you. They are all
worth saving, they are all worth loving, they are all worth
your sacrifices and prayers — or else none of you are worth it! If
you really believe in my love, then you must believe that your ecclesial
problems can be solved — and that love is the key to their
solution.’
We break bread and drink wine as a memorial of
our fellowship with God through Christ. We do not earn this right; it is
a profound privilege and a gift, earned by the sufferings of Christ. It is given
freely to sinners, if they will only believe. A fine record of
outstanding accomplishment, accompanied by perfect purity of doctrine (remember
our “brother” the Pharisee who prayed in the temple!), will not
earn us eternal life. The spirit that compasses sea and land to bring
division between brethren of Christ for the smallest hint of a cause will not
earn eternal life, no matter how zealously exercised that spirit
is!
“He hath shewed thee, O man, what is
good, and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love
mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?” (Mic. 6:8).