The Servant Who Brings Justice to Christmas

So over the past three weeks, we have been, I guess, focused on a theme of Advent as we looked at some of the Old Testament passages that gave us this expectation of the coming Messiah. And we're going to be continuing that today as well, as we look towards Christmas day. Advent is a time of reflecting on the need of a savior. That is why this is part of the Christian church calendar. It's reflecting on the need, the expectation of the hope of a savior.

Last week, we looked at Zechariah 6, and the expectation of one who would come with the name the Branch. We looked at other parts of old testament prophecies that spoke of the stump of Jesse, the line of David that was cut off during the exile. And that out of this stump in the ground, a green shoot would sprout. A green branch would come. And Zechariah says that this branch would be crowned as a priest king in the temple of God.

We saw how Jesus would then encompass the threefold office of prophet, priest, and king, so that he could become the perfect savior. As prophet, priest, and king, he would overcome the greatest threats that we face of ignorance, of not knowing just how far we have fallen from God, our threat of guilt. Only a priest can deal with that blood guilt. And then of corruption, of the enemies within and without, that the king defends and fights against. He becomes the perfect savior in that threefold office. And then the week before, we looked at Isaiah 40, and we saw the new message that God gave Isaiah at one point in time to preach comfort to His people. "Comfort, comfort, my people," says your God.

To tell Israel that God was coming for them, that He was a pursuing God, that He would go to them even in a far off country to bring them home, to let them know that they had been forgiven, that their sins, God says, have been paid for doubly, more than enough. So that was two weeks ago. This morning, we're going to be looking a little bit further at Isaiah. Isaiah is a wonderful book in the Bible to go to at Christmas time. And we're gonna jump forward just a couple of chapters to Isaiah 42, another prophecy of the Messiah, where God in this passage simply refers to the Messiah as my servant.

Let's have a look at Isaiah 42. Isaiah 42:1. God says through the prophet Isaiah, "Behold, my servant whom I uphold, my chosen, in whom my soul delights. I have put my Spirit upon him. He will bring forth justice to the nations."

"He will not cry aloud or lift up his voice or make it heard in the street. A bruised reed he will not break, and a faintly burning wick he will not quench. He will faithfully bring forth justice. He will not grow faint or be discouraged till he has established justice in the earth, and the coastlands wait for his law. Thus says God the Lord, who created the heavens and stretched them out, who spread out the earth and what comes from it, who gives breath to the people on it, and spirit to those who walk in it."

"I am the Lord. I have called you in righteousness. I will take you by the hand and keep you. I will give you as a covenant for the people, a light for the nations, to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison, those who sit in darkness. I am the Lord, that is my name."

"My glory I give to no other, nor my praise to carved idols. Behold, the former things have come to pass, and new things I now declare. Before they spring forth, I tell you of them." What a wonderful passage. Well, what is going on here?

Well, I think very clearly, especially to the Jews at this time, it was a passage that spoke of a new hope, a new leader, a new ruler that would come. But who is this servant and what does he do? Cast your mind back two weeks ago, where we spoke of the context of Isaiah in which he wrote some of these things. We know that God's people had been taken as exiles, as prisoners to the ancient superpower of Babylon. We know that the city of Jerusalem has been destroyed.

Their walls have been torn down. They have been ransacked and pillaged. The great temple of God, one of the ancient wonders of the world, has been destroyed. Brick from brick, almost, it has been destroyed. Their king, Zedekiah, has been taken as a prisoner to Babylon.

His eyes have been cut out. He's been blinded, and in humiliation, he lives as a prisoner of the Babylonian king. So there exists a massive crisis for God's people. They have no home. God has apparently left them because His spirit dwelt in that temple.

Their king is humiliated and enslaved. Who can save them? But not only does this tragedy exist, but God keeps sending these pesky, weird individuals like Isaiah and Ezekiel to come and tell them that not only did this horrible thing happen to them, but it was the result of something that they have done, or rather something that they have not done. It is as a result of something called sin. We saw two weeks ago that in the first half of the book, Isaiah tells God's people that they have become arrogant and greedy in their hearts, that they have been corrupted by their wealth.

They have only looked after themselves, served themselves, and in particular, Isaiah's emphasis is that they have neglected the needy. Their corrupt hearts were highlighted by the fact that they made carved idols, carved images of wood and stone, and worshipped those things, rather than worshipping the living God. Then in chapter 40, God starts directing Isaiah's mind to the future, to the hope of a restoration for Israel. In chapter 40 that we read two weeks ago, God says that he has chosen to forgive his people, that he will turn his wrath away from them, that he will rescue them and bring them back to the promised land, and more importantly, into a restored relationship with Him. But here, Isaiah, from chapter 40 onwards, also begins to reveal that there is a far deeper dimension that God is wanting to heal in them as well.

God is not only concerned about a political and geographical restoration for His people, a physical relocation from Babylon back into Israel. The real problem that has existed was not political or geographical, it is personal and it is spiritual. The problem is a heart gripped by the power of sin. And so this is what God is starting to tell them here, that a plan of redemption is in place. And while He holds out this hope, in comes the servant, the servant of chapter 42. In verse one, where God says, "Behold my servant, the one in whom my soul delights."

The word to behold used here is to turn your attention to, to take your eyes, which has been preoccupied with something over here, and to readjust it onto something new. Look at this thing that I am pointing out to you guys. Behold my servant. And like a little bit of mosaic art, we find God putting these little coloured pieces of stone into a portrait of this great servant who will come. And there's actually four in total images of this servant that will come through in the next 15 chapters of Isaiah.

This one is the first. But the first thing we see in this introduction of the servant is that he is someone especially chosen. He is the chosen one. And he is someone that we could never be. Verse one says that this is a person who has been chosen by God Himself.

Why is he chosen? Well, partly it says, because God delights in him. God is pleased with this servant. Remember again the context of the previous chapters. Everyone has failed God. Everyone that was meant to be faithful, even the great king who was meant to lead by example his people, Israel, has failed.

Every person has broken His heart. This servant, however, brings delight to God. This servant is the opposite of disappointing. And God approves of this servant so much that He says His soul takes delight in him. That is an interesting concept.

How does God have a soul? Does God have a soul? The Hebrew word here is naphesh, which can also be a very broad term to just explain God's most inward parts, His heart, the source of His emotion or His joy. That is taken up with delight when He thinks of this servant. This servant is someone that hasn't broken faithfulness with God.

Someone so closely loved and accepted by God that they are said to have God's Spirit in them. The second half of verse one says, "My Spirit rests on this servant." What this means for the Old Testament listeners is that this person is going to be led by, equipped, and strengthened by God Himself. And again, in the context, it was only kings and prophets that had the Spirit of God in this sort of way. This is a special person.

This is a leader. This is someone that will show the spiritual fruit that those leaders were meant to show. This part of scripture in Isaiah 42, remember, is written in the year roughly 600 BC. Six hundred years later, we find this event happening, recorded in Luke 3:21-22.

Turn with me quickly to Luke 3. We're gonna read verses 21 and 22. Luke 3:21. "Now when all the people were baptised, and when Jesus also had been baptised and was praying, the heavens were opened, and the Holy Spirit descended on Him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, 'You are my beloved Son. With You I am well pleased.'"

This is six hundred years after Isaiah's statement of a servant who will come who brings delight to God. At the age of 30, Jesus begins His ministry. He begins it by being baptised by John the Baptist. That is the moment that he sets his face towards his task. As he comes out of the water, as Jesus is baptised and is praying, the Holy Spirit descends on Him in the physical form of a dove.

And while this is happening, a voice from nowhere, a voice, however, that people could hear, says, "You are my Son whom I love. With You I am well pleased." Can you see that connection? Can you see the similarity in the tone, in the language that is being used here? "My soul delights in my servant."

"You are my Son, with You I am well pleased." This is something important for us to know as Christians. Some people will hear the message of the gospel, the message of Jesus Christ who has come to die for people on the cross. And people will say, when they hear that message, "I can't believe in a God who would kill His own Son, even if that benefits me. Who can believe in a father who kills His son?"

That is cosmic child abuse, divine child abuse. Only a heartless father could do that. But here we see the heart of that Father. His soul delights in His Son. He loves His Son.

With Him, I am very pleased. And so sending His delightful Son to the cross would have crushed the heart of the Father. If we ever think, when Easter time comes around in a few months time, if we ever think that what took place there was some sort of cold clinical transaction, we miss the grief that the Father would have felt for the Son in that moment. It wasn't an act of negligence or indifference. It was a heartbreaking moment of grief.

Yet, for the joy that was set before them, with an eye on that glorious victory that would follow, they saw it through. The servant promised in Isaiah would be special. He is chosen. And in some way, he is chosen because he is delightful. He is faithful.

Someone who pleased God. In Jesus, we find our representative man. In His humanity, He would live the perfect life that we could not, to die the death that we all deserved. So that's the first insight we see in Isaiah. God promises a chosen one, someone who could be something we could never be.

Secondly, we come to the task of this servant, what he will do. And he will establish justice. That is the main theme coming through. We see that in three places, verse one, three, and four. Now in our English translations, we have the Hebrew word, that word justice, translated, which is mishpat.

And in our English speaking minds, when we hear the word justice, we have certain ideas attached to that word. When we think justice, we think fairness, we think equality, we think rewards for doing the right things, we think punishments for doing the bad. When we think justice, we think of a courtroom setting, the judge being the keeper of the justice. But the Bible's understanding of justice is much broader than that again. The word expresses the idea of a righteous order that is infiltrating every person's heart.

In doing mishpat, justice, it's not so much in enforcing certain just rules, although that is a part of upholding a righteous order. Justice, mishpat, is embodying these laws in the personal life. So this concept of justice is embraced in all aspects of life and love. It's not simply cornered into some sort of legal system, some sort of cold clinical concept that can be examined and come to at various times when it suits. Justice exists inside a person's heart.

It is shown in the way that they live. It flows out from people marked by the God of justice. Kings, if you were to read the Psalms that speak about what the kings must be like, what the Israelites should be praying for for their kings, kings were the embodiment of this righteous order of justice. They had to uphold this justice. And it started with them and how they lived.

For this reason, justice is often found alongside another big Hebrew word, which is the term shalom, peace. Peace is enjoyed when justice exists in the heart of every person. Theologically speaking, this double connection of justice, of righteousness, and peace is a reference back to before the fall of man, in paradise with God. In those days, the hearts of Adam and Eve knew justice, the righteous order of things. And because of that, they had shalom, peace, with one another and with God.

Back here in Isaiah 42, God says the servant's main task is to establish this justice. We get a beautiful description, in part, of what this justice looks like in reality. Have a look at verse 7 of Isaiah 42. The blind receive sight. The captives will be set free from their prison.

Those who sit in darkness will see the light. Fast forward again to the New Testament. Fast forward again to Luke, and we see in chapter seven there's a story of John the Baptist's followers who come to Jesus while John is awaiting execution in prison. The followers of John ask Jesus on behalf of John, "This is what John wants to find out from you, Jesus. Are you the one we are expecting?

Are you the Messiah? Or should we wait for someone else?" Look how Jesus responds. Listen to this. Luke 7:22, and He said to them, "Go and tell John what you have seen and what you have heard.

The blind receive their sight. The lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them." In other words, Jesus answers their theological, philosophical question, not with more philosophy, but He points to the fact that He is doing exactly what the promised Messiah was said to do. Jesus is healing the blind both physically, but more importantly, spiritually. He preaches salvation and freedom to people who are prisoners in their sin.

Jesus is saying he is establishing mishpat in the world. Friends, if you are searching for justice in your life, if you are hungering to be right, to be whole, for you to know peace, you will find it in Jesus. You will find it in Jesus because his job has always been to establish justice. Finally, we see this third insight, and that is the gentleness of this servant. If we looked at the task, now we look at the character of this servant.

Verse two reads, "The servant will not cry aloud or lift up his voice. He will not make his voice heard in the street. A bruised reed he will not break, and a faintly burning wick he will not quench." What this is saying is that this servant is gentle. He is supremely kind. He's not loud.

He is forthright. He says what he will do and he does it. He, however, doesn't promote himself in the street. He doesn't beat his chest in order to get attention. And the way he handles people, the way he treats people, is so kind.

Isn't that description so beautiful? Listen to this. He will not break a bruised reed. A faintly burning wick he does not quench. It's a beautiful metaphor, a descriptor, and I think all of us can sort of imagine that, can't we? Someone walking along and they see just this reed or this tall grass that's been bent over.

I mean, it's a worthless piece of grass, bent over by heavy winds or heavy rain. Instead of grabbing it and yanking it off, because it's done for anyway, this servant goes towards it and props it up, puts a splint on it in order for it to grow back stronger. The same person walking by a smouldering candle with a flame, and we've all seen that flame, that little flame, it's just about to go out. And instead of blowing it out and snuffing it out, they dig up the wick a little bit, and they bend it up again, and they make sure that it is covered against any wind that might come and blow it out. In both of those images, there's just this overwhelming sense of a gentle spirit.

Now think back to when you were a kid. If you faced the same sort of situations, what did you do when you were a child? I know what I did. Bruised reed, you become a broken reed in my hand. Smouldering candle, I will extinguish you with one giant blow.

Why do we do that? Because it's a display of our strength. How much power we have? How different is the servant that God will send? I hope by this point in the sermon, you're not going to be surprised that Jesus was also full of kindness.

In Mark 10:45, a famous part in Jesus' ministry, He sums up His purpose for having come to earth. He says to His disciples, "I did not come to be served, but to serve. And to do so by giving my life as a ransom for many." Friends, this is what Christmas means. This is the hope that we hope for in this season of Advent.

We are damaged goods. We are bruised reeds. We are smouldering candles. We've been damaged by physical and mental torment, perhaps. Perhaps we know that we have lived in a land of exile, a land that we thought would treat us well, but we know has been destroying us.

Far more sinister and far more dangerous than the physical realities of this existence. Today, I want to tell you that we are damaged goods because of our sin. The sin that God was punishing Israel for when He sent them into exile. And yet we are given the example of Israel because in Israel we see God is showing all of humanity the plight of the human heart. Do you notice in verse one, God says the servant would not just restore Israel, He's going to bring justice to all nations.

The coastlands will see the glory of God through Him. The islands, justice will come for the world. The scope goes far beyond this nation of Israel. Why? Because we are all bruised reeds and smouldering wicks.

The bruising in our lives, the light inside of us is being quenched. It happens in all sorts of ways. Something we know in our heart says that life isn't fair. There isn't justice in this world. There are unspeakable losses in life.

But Jesus promises to come to take bruised reeds, to gently lift them, to heal them. For dimly burning wicks, He cups His hands around them, He softly blows on those embers until the flame appears again. He has both the gentleness and the desire for justice that we all need. And if we have any spiritual sensitivity, we will realise this. We will realise, just as we saw last week, that this dynamic nature of a gentle and a powerful saviour is what we need.

I need someone who is strong enough to save me because I am so rebellious. I need someone kind enough to want to save me, someone that will overlook my failures and deal mercifully with me. And so as we head into Christmas, and as we build this anticipation to the celebration of the Messiah's arrival, remember this is why Jesus came, to bring justice. That should make us think very carefully about how we pursue justice in our own lives. If Jesus came to bring justice, he is establishing justice.

He will do so through His people. And we can explain and we can talk about at length what that means. Is it social justice? Is it all those sort of things? But Jesus has brought justice, and it begins in our hearts.

Christians love and pursue that justice in all sorts of avenues. We can do it in our work, we can do it in our families, we can do it at our schools and universities. And why do we do it? Because God Himself is concerned with restoring shalom, peace. This Christmas, may God move our hearts closer to His beloved Son in whom He delights, the Son who is our soft natured, gentle defender of justice.

Let's pray. Lord Jesus, we thank You that in this moment we can again see the beautifully faceted nature of Your service, Your ministry, and Your character. Like a beautifully cut diamond. This morning, we see the heart, the determination for justice, the righteous order that You want to re-establish in the world.

And yet, we thank You, Lord, that You are, in pursuing that justice, one who stops to bend down to a bruised reed, who will cup and protect a wick that is just about to die out. We need You to be both of those things, Lord Jesus, both merciful and kind and powerful and determined. Thank You that in that determination, You came on that day that we celebrate this week in Christmas. Thank You that Your determination caused You to step into space and time. Thank You that You came with a cosmic plan to restore us.

And Father, thank You that despite Your incredible love, Your satisfaction in Your Son, You would offer Him for us. The Son whom the Father delighted in, a sacrifice for us on the cross. We take these words and these reflections, Lord, on board. Help us to be moved to worship and adoration of You in this time of Christmas. We pray for the justice of our own hearts to match the justice of our Saviour.

That it starts with us. This righteous order that we desire for the world to live in, to start with me and my family first. Help us to speak kindly. Help us to love generously. Help us to be patient as You were with us.

In Jesus' name we pray. Amen.