Lamb of God: Man of Sorrows

“Who has believed what he has heard from us?

    And to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?

For he grew up before him like a young plant,

    and like a root out of dry ground;

he had no form or majesty that we should look at him,

    and no beauty that we should desire him.

He was despised and rejected by men,

    a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief;

and as one from whom men hide their faces

    he was despised, and we esteemed him not.”

Isaiah 53:1-3

If you could choose the time, place and circumstances of your birth, what would you orchestrate for yourself? Would you be born into a family of wealth, prestige and privilege? What about a family that valued education and art, that would send you to the best schools and offer you the greatest experiences? Some of us might choose to be born into royalty, or a family of influence while others of us might choose an upbringing of affection and affirmation. Whatever your particular preference would be, none of us would choose an existence of hardship, turmoil, pain or sorrow. None of us would knowingly write that into the script of our stories.

Centuries before the birth of Jesus, the prophet Isaiah “saw his glory and spoke of him.” (John 12:41). Though he saw the coming of a king, that king was not what everyone expected. One of Isaiah’s more famous prophecies is found towards the end of the book, in chapter 53. Here Isaiah speaks of the coming king, who would appear, not as a fierce warrior, not as a man of privilege, or as a beautiful prince, but as a suffering servant. The only person in the history of humanity who chose the circumstances surrounding his birth did not choose wealth or ease. He came as one from whom men hide their faces. Despised. Rejected.

Man of Sorrows. That was the name he assumed by the life he lived. He didn’t choose beauty or majesty. He didn’t demand privilege or influence. He lived among the poor and lowly. He came from a no-name town, was born into a working class family, and had nothing exceptional to recommend him. J. Alec Motyer points out that the word  “esteemed” used in v. 3 is an accounting word. When the world looked at Jesus and set a value on his life, his worth added up to nothing. There was nothing about him that was especially valuable.

Why does Isaiah belabor this point in his opening verses about the Suffering Servant? He wants us to know that our Savior is “acquainted'' with our grief. He is familiar with our stories because he has lived them. He could have demanded a life of luxury, prestige and ease. But he didn’t choose that because that is not how 99% of our world lives. The majority of human beings struggle to make ends meet. We struggle to put food on the table. In more places than we want to admit, mamas tuck hungry children into bed at night. He was a man who understood struggle and hardship.

Jesus was a man that most people passed over. There was no outward beauty that drew interest to him. He understood what it was to be belittled, ignored and dismissed. If you feel unseen or as if you must fight for what seems to come so easily to others, the Suffering Servant has shared in your experience. 

He was despised. Forsaken by his own people. By his own family. If you feel like an outcast in your own home, Jesus understands. If you have been rejected by those who should have loved you most, Jesus has experienced this too. If someone you love has turned their face away from you, Jesus has endured this. He looks on you with eyes full of compassion, as one who has lived this experience and deeply knows the intricacies of this particular pain. 

He accepted all of this, because he took on our shared human experience. He did not spare himself, because his brothers and sisters endure struggle, hardship, pain, suffering and rejection. Because the children partake in flesh and blood, so did he, in all of its sorrow. He did this so that he might become our Redeemer, who is merciful and faithful to us, because he knows. (Heb. 2:14, 17) 

The Christmas season can be filled with joy and celebration, but for many of us there is also sorrow mixed in. We feel our loss more acutely when the world outside our door is decked out in lights and bows. We long for all that should have been. Our lament rises to God amidst the carols and songs. 

He hears us. He sees us. He answers us in the gift of his Son, the Suffering Servant, who knows what it is like to be us. May his compassion heal your wounds. May you draw strength from his love this Advent season. 

“Man of sorrows what a name 

for the Son of God, who came 

ruined sinners to reclaim:

Hallelujah, what a Savior!”

P.P. Bliss, “Man of Sorrows, What a Name”