The Silence of the Lamb (Isa. 53:7)

This sermon was preached on 30/9/2012

In this song, the Father is highlighting various features of his Servant. Sometimes he does so by speaking in the first person, at other times he uses the words of others to stress various details. Who is speaking in this verse? It is hard to say because there are no first person pronouns, only third person. So the speaker could be those in the previous verse (the redeemed) or it could be the speaker in the following verse (the Father who refers to ‘my people’) or it could be the voice of an onlooker or the voice of Isaiah himself.

On one occasion a very important individual was travelling home. As he journeyed he was engrossed in reading about an unusual character. We are told about the traveller in Acts 8 – he was the individual in charge of the finances of Ethiopia. The text that he was reading was Isaiah 53 and verses 7-8 in particular. Clearly he was puzzled about how an individual could accept such a great deal of suffering and remain silent. Luke tells us that the Holy Spirit sent Philip to tell the Ethiopian who the passage was about.

In a sense, it does not matter who the speaker is. What is important is what the speaker says, and in this verse the speaker twice highlights the silence of Jesus. In order to help us appreciate the described situation, we should note that there is an emphatic pronoun ‘himself’ before the word ‘afflicted’, which is not translated, but which indicates that Jesus willingly allowed himself to be so ill-treated. Indeed the words could be translated as he humbled himself, and this has caused some scholars to suggest that this verse is the background to Paul’s words about Jesus in Philippians 2:6-8 where it says that Jesus humbled himself and became obedient unto death.

What was the described situation? It was the various trials that Jesus went through when he was arrested. But first we can consider an unexpected aspect of the prophecy.

The silence is surprising

As we reflect on the One who is silent, we recall that one of his titles is the Word (John 1:1). In a sense, he is the eternal Speaker. We are told in that verse that ‘In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.’ Many suggestions are made about the significance of this title, but surely one of its meanings is that he always had something to say and that through him the Father spoke about and performed his purpose.

The silence is surprising in that the Word always said the right things. His listeners in the eternal ages were the Father and the Spirit, and they always enjoyed what they heard from him. It is hard for us to understand their communication, but in order to make it easier for us to grasp we are told that their conversation involved an eternal plan of redemption. One detail of that eternal interaction was the willingness of the Word to become the Servant of the Father. But here he is now, at the place of ultimate service, and he is silent.

The silence is surprising because the Word always spoke with power. John tells us that ‘All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made’ (John 1:2). He spoke at the beginning of time, and universes appeared; he spoke, and the earth was filled with all kinds of life; he kept on speaking during that first week of creation until he could say that it was all very good. Since then he has kept everything in existence by his authoritative word. Indeed, although he was now in a situation that required silence he was simultaneously maintaining the worlds in existence.

The silence is surprising because when he was on earth, he always knew what to say. Even his opponents had to confess that never man spoke like this man. On many occasions his thoughtful explanations silenced his opponents. His words poured forth wisdom as he instructed his listeners about the things of the kingdom of God. He knew what to say in every situation, no matter to whom he was speaking. He knew how to speak to the haughty Pharisees, he knew how to comfort the penitent sinner, he knew how to open up the closed heart of the woman of Sychar, and he knew how to get beyond the flatteries of Nicodemus when they first met. Yet the one who knew how to speak had now came to a place and time where he knew he had to be silent.

So his silence is surprising. But it is more.

The silence is strategic

Where and when was he silent? Of course, the verse does not mean he did not speak at all. Instead it indicates that he did not say very much when his troubles began. There was a period of a few hours – the hours when he was afflicted – when he maintained a silence, and he did so between his arrest and his death, during which he expressed silence in a variety of ways.

We can begin with what he did not say when Judas and the guards came to arrest him. Peter resorted to attacking them with a sword. He was probably surprised when the wound he inflicted on one of them was healed by Jesus and perhaps even more surprised by how Jesus corrected him for his action. ‘Do you think that I cannot appeal to my Father, and he will at once send me more than twelve legions of angels?’ The implication of his statement is that he kept silent regarding what would have been a legitimate request for him to make. But if he had made it and received heavenly protection, what would have happened to us?

Jesus remained silent when he was mocked and beaten by the soldiers after his arrest and condemnation by the Sanhedrin. During the trial he had maintained his silence except when the High Priest asked him if he was the Messiah. After the trial, he was placed under the control of soldier guards and they blindfolded him and beat him, and asked him to prophesy (Luke 22:63-65). This is what Isaiah 53:7 is describing when it says that he was oppressed and afflicted. Yet with one word he could have sent them into a lost eternity. Why did he remain silent? Because of his great love for sinners! Their sins were grievous, yet he did not punish them at that time for their actions. Oh, what he was willing to endure! Here we have a marvellous display of patience, of being willing to endure the cruelty of unfeeling barbarians. Yet he never ceased to love his fellowmen, even when they did their worst. And he exercised his love by silence.

Then Jesus was silent at the civil trial before Pilate, except for when he affirmed that he was a king of an entirely different kingdom. His silence was such that the Roman ruler was amazed at the stateliness and demeanour of Jesus. As a judge, Pilate had questioned many arrested individuals and heard their desperate pleas for clemency. Yet before him now stood the most dignified man he had ever seen, who only claimed to speak the truth about himself and his kingdom, and refused to answer any other questions. I suppose we can say that Pilate sensed that somehow Jesus was on a mission, even although everything indicated that he was the leader of a lost cause. His silence indicated he was sovereign over the representative of the empire which imagined it ruled the world at that time.

But Jesus was also silent before Herod (Luke 23:6-12). This was a very solemn silence. Herod was the man who had stifled his conscience when he was moved by the preaching of John the Baptist and eventually agreed to put him to death in very unpleasant circumstances. The man who had refused to listen to the forerunner of the Servant now discovered that the Servant had nothing to say to him. Of course, in a sense the Servant had been speaking through his forerunner, so Herod had heard the message about the kingdom. Now he found himself speaking contemptuously to a silent Saviour. The king was on the way to losing his throne whereas the Servant, despite the mocking, was on the way to his. But there was no place for Herod in that kingdom.

Jesus was also silent towards his apostle Simon Peter, one of his closest friends (Luke 22:54-62). We know what took place. There in the high priest’s palace Peter was speaking very loudly as he denied all knowledge of Jesus to the individuals who asked him three times around the fire if he knew Jesus. Peter had forgotten that Jesus had warned him that he would deny his Master three times. And when the third denial took place, Luke tells us that Jesus turned and looked across the room at Simon Peter. Peter caught the eye of Jesus and went and wept bitterly. Jesus was there before his shearers, yet he had time to look in silence to his wayward disciple, but that look of love spoke more than a thousand words! This was the silence of restoring love, but what an amazing effect it had on Peter as he went out and wept bitterly. I suppose we should ask ourselves if Jesus needs to look at us in a similar manner. If he does, then our response should be the same as Peter’s.

The silence is saving

We can also say that Jesus was now silent in the sense that he no longer asked his Father to deliver him from the awful trial through which he was about to go. In the Garden of Gethsemane he had prayed in agony that he would be spared that experience, yet he realised that it was his Father’s will that his cup of wrath should be drunk to its last drop. Once Jesus realised that was the case, he did not articulate such a prayer again but went forth depending on the Father.

There is another aspect of Jesus’ silence towards the Father in this verse. Jesus is likened to a lamb that is led to the slaughter. The imagery in mind is that of the lambs who were led to the altar as sacrifices. Of course, the lambs had no idea where they were going. For all they knew, they could have been led to a pasture to play. With Jesus, it was so different. He knew that he was being led to the place of sacrifice. And yet there was no word of complaint in his heart.

What about the imagery of being sheared? Again a sheep that is being sheared accepts the rough treatment it receives without attempting to escape. Apparently, according to ancient writers, sheep in the Middle East did not object in any way to the shearing! Jesus made no attempt to escape from the awful destiny that lay ahead of him after he had moved on from the place of trial.

The silence shows us Jesus

The obvious comment that can be made about this description is that it highlights the meekness of Jesus. Here he stands all alone, facing a range of hostile opponents, accused by them of sins of which he was completely innocent. Yet he opened not his mouth to defend himself.

As we think of the silence of Jesus, we can see is his humility. After all, a servant only speaks when he should. And the Son of God had voluntarily submitted himself to do the Father’s will. He has no objections to his Father’s purpose and so he continues on, determined to fulfil the purpose of the Father. Jesus acquiesced in all that was happening to him because he knew he was on a higher mission.

Jesus here is our example. Peter tells us about Jesus that ‘when he was reviled, he did not revile in return; when he suffered, he did not threaten, but continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly’ (1 Pet. 2:23). Jesus did not vindicate himself but left his vindication to God. The Saviour is also our example in the complete trust he had in the God who he served.

Jesus is our law-keeper here. How often have we spoken the wrong word in a difficult situation? While our friends may understand why we lose our temper or say an antagonistic word in a trying moment, the fact is that we sinned. We failed to keep God’s law in that situation. But Jesus came to work out a righteousness that would cover our disobedience. And his silence here is part of that righteousness that is imputed to us when we believe in him.

Jesus, because of what he went through during these trying hours, is able to sympathise with us. He knows what it is like to be falsely accused, he knows what it is like to be alone surrounded by opponents, he knows what it is like to have all comforts taken from him, he knows what it is like to have friends abandon him and leave him alone. Because he was silent, we can speak to him when our lips are sealed by providence and ask for his special company.

The silence was short

The last detail to observe is the length of the time of his silence. In contrast to the rest of his life, it was a short period. Very soon he would have reasons to speak spontaneously again. Soon he would no longer only speak in the sense of asking questions from earthly judges (the fact that he answered them is evidence that he accepted their God-given authority). Even on the road to the cross he spoke graciously to the weeping women and on the cross he spoke in prayer for the soldiers crucifying him, comforted the penitent criminal, took care of his mother, cried to his Father out of the darkness, declared his completed work, and resigned his spirit into God’s care. Since his resurrection he has been speaking in different ways. How thankful we should be that his period of silence was short.