He is despised and left alone of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief, and like one from whom [men] hide their faces; -- despised, and we esteemed him not.
This verse sits in the middle of a confession — the words of people who once saw nothing in Christ worth wanting, and who now admit it. It raises two questions: why did men turn away from Him, and why was sorrow the settled mark of a perfect life?
Commentators read this chapter as a confession Israel makes after God delivers them, not during Christ's lifetime. The order matters: they see Him first, then they repent.
The full repentance of Israel comes after their deliverance. That is, their discipline ends first. Then Christ appears in glory as their deliverer, and this produces the deep sense of their sin in having rejected Him... After verse 1 the Spirit speaks by the mouth of the escaped remnant of Israel. They confess their sin in having despised Him... Verse 1 shows that they had rejected the testimony of Christ, which was addressed to faith. They believe when they see Him.
Notice the pronoun. The speakers do not blame the generation that crucified Him.
The prophet is led to predict the rejection of Christ. His words express what a godly remnant of Israel will feel in the last days... They take the sin of their forefathers as their own. They will confess, not that the forefathers did it, but that we did it. This will be a genuine repentance.
Men despised Him because nothing in Him fed their taste. The problem was not in Him but in the ones looking.
He is shown here as men saw Him. He had "no form or majesty," and none of the beauty that men admire and want. A proud, commanding man with an impressive appearance would have caught the popular taste. Instead He was "a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief"... Men did not understand this. They could not feel how low they had sunk themselves. So they despised and rejected Him.
One writer traces this sorrow to something most people have tasted at some point.
It was His rejection and reproach that made the blessed Son of God "a Man of sorrows" here. Israel would not have Him. He knew He was not wanted. We have all been, at some time or other in our lives, in places where we knew we were not wanted. And it is one of the keenest of all sorrows. The Lord Jesus felt this sorrow everywhere. In some places people did not even care to take Him in. "Foxes have holes," He said on one occasion, "and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head."... He went about doing good, and never spoke an unkind word.
There is a second source of sorrow, deeper than being unwanted. It comes from what He was in Himself.
He felt the degraded state of man, so He could not be anything other than "a man of sorrows"; yes, the "Grief-Acquainted One." His own perfect holiness made Him feel how terrible sin is, as no fallen man could feel it. But the nation treated Him as someone to avoid, "as one from whom men hide their faces." They despised Him; they esteemed Him not.
One writer reads "grief" here as sickness, and points to what happened when He healed.
The account of His taking the weaknesses and carrying the diseases means more than one thing. The Lord did take these things away from the sufferers. He also took them upon Himself. That is how He became a "man of sorrows and acquainted with grief [sickness]".
The confession does not stop at regret. In the verses that follow, the same speakers see why He suffered.
By faith they now see why He was the Man of sorrows. He was bearing their griefs and carrying their sorrows. And if, on the cross, He was stricken, smitten, and afflicted, it was for their sins that He was wounded and bruised, so that through His atoning sufferings they might have peace and healing.
- Spoken, not merely predicted. The verse is a confession God writes in advance for people who will one day say it themselves — and say "we did it," not "they did it."
- Despised for the wrong reason. Men wanted an impressive figure. His lowliness gave their taste nothing to admire, so they looked away.
- Sorrow from two sides. Nobody wanted Him. And His holiness made Him feel the ruin of sin as no fallen person can.
- Grief He absorbed. He did not only take sickness and sorrow away from people. He took it onto Himself. That is how He became "acquainted" with it.
- The same face, seen again. One day they will look at Him and understand. The sorrows they despised, He was carrying for them.
Surely *he* hath borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; and we, we did regard him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted.
Isaiah 53 reads like a confession. A people look back at Someone they once wrote off, and at last see what was happening. Verse 4 sets two things side by side: a burden He truly carried, and a verdict about Him that was wrong.
Two Hebrew words tie this verse back to the "man of sorrows" in verse 3. Matthew shows what they point to.
The "Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief" is the same as "surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows." The Hebrew words are kho-li (grief) and mak'o-voth (sorrows). Matthew shows us that this applies to His healing their diseases and sicknesses. The Lord that healed them entered, as Man, into all the sorrows of which they had to be healed.
Scripture itself quotes this verse in one place: Matthew 8:17. Commentators say that one use settles the question.
It is well known how good and learned men have worked in vain over Isa. 53:4. They have not paid attention to the Holy Spirit's use of it in Matt. 8:17. There it is applied to the grace with which He used His power to remove infirmities and sicknesses in His ministry among the Jews… If any inspired writer had applied Isa. 53:4 to the atonement anywhere, that would settle it. It is only applied to Christ's ministry or at least miracles. When His dying for our sins is meant, the Spirit in 1 Peter 2:24, Heb. 9:28, refers to Isa. 53:11-12.
The verse says He bore and carried. Commentators ask what those words add to an act of power.
In what sense did Jesus, our Lord, take their infirmities, and bear their sicknesses? I believe it is this. He never used the power that was in Him to deal with sickness or infirmity as a mere act of power. In deep compassionate feeling He entered into the whole reality of the case. He healed, and He bore its burden on His heart before God as truly as He took it away from men.
More was happening in Him than the miracle showed.
He felt their miseries and bondage. In His tender heart He carried their burdens. He was afflicted among them because they were afflicted. Power went out of Him to heal them, and the loads He lifted from them weighed down His spirit. He felt these things in His spirit, for disease could not seize or defile His sinless, holy body.
Some read verse 4 as proof that the atonement covers bodily healing. Commentators reject that.
When He used His power in love and sympathy, Christ never healed an ill without bearing it on His spirit. But this is not atonement… bearing on the heart in sympathy is quite another thing from atonement. To apply the principle of atonement here is simply nonsense. Was Christ sick in our place when He made atonement on the cross? He did suffer wrath and bore our sin so as to come under it. But in these healings He was exercising power.
There is also a simpler reason the theory is unnecessary.
The atonement for sickness that people speak of could not be needed. If sin is atoned for, mercy can come in anywhere to relieve and heal the body: that which meets the cause can of course meet its effects also.
The second half of the verse is the confession of a mistake. They saw His suffering and drew the opposite conclusion from the truth.
The passage in Isaiah clearly does not refer to the atoning and substitutionary sufferings of Christ, as the verses right after it do (Isa. 53:5-6). It refers to the effects of His service among men. The Jews, blinded by unbelief, treated those effects as a visitation from God. So they said, "He is mad"; "this man is not of God"; "He has a demon" — counting Him a Gehazi, a Uzziah, "stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted."
Gehazi and Uzziah were men struck with disease as a judgment from God.
Their mistake was not that God's hand was on Him. It was about why.
They had thought that God's hand was out against Him, as if He Himself were under God's displeasure. But the stroke was upon Him "for the transgression of my people."
The "we" of this verse is a people who once judged Him and now judge themselves. That confession is not theirs alone.
This is the language of the godly remnant when they look on Him whom they pierced, and the believer today believes the same truth… How very plain and how very sure is the word of God, God be praised for it!
- Borne — "griefs" and "sorrows" cover sickness and burdens. Matthew 8:17 is the only inspired use of this verse, and it points to His healing ministry.
- Felt — He never healed by bare power. He carried each case on His heart before God as He lifted it off the sufferer.
- Distinguished — bearing in sympathy (v. 4) is not bearing sin under wrath (v. 5 on). Healing was never atonement.
- Misjudged — they saw His sorrow and concluded God was against Him. They put Him with men struck by God.
- Confessed — the "we" is a people who reverse their own verdict. A believer today makes the same confession.
But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him, and with his stripes we are healed.
Isaiah 53 is a confession, and the speakers keep saying "we" and "our" — and this verse is where they stop guessing about the sufferer and name what His suffering did. The questions it raises are simple and huge: who is saying "we," what wounds are these, and what is the healing?
One writer counts up the verses, then draws out what that means for each of us:
Here is a remarkable fact: as printed in our English Bibles, verse 5 is the central verse of this chapter, which really begins with verse 13 of Isaiah 52. It is therefore the central verse of the central chapter of the central section of this latter part of Isaiah. And without doubt it predicts truth that is central both to our soul's salvation and to our soul's experience. The transgressions, the iniquities were mine, each of us has to say, but the wounding, the bruising were not mine but His. The peace, the healing are mine, but the chastisement, the stripes that bought them, were not mine but His. In all this He was my Substitute.
The confession belongs first to a people who once judged Him wrongly and later admit the truth:
It is not the Gentiles, the non-Jewish nations, but the Jews who say, "Who would have believed our report? … He carried our pains, while we thought God had struck Him down and punished Him. Yet He was pierced for our transgressions. He was crushed for our iniquities. Upon Him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and His wounds brought us healing." It is Israel who speak this way, when they repent and confess their past unbelief. They had thought He was hateful to God, when in truth He was making atonement for their transgressions.
Others can say the same words too, but the writers set one condition:
In these verses, we must remember, the "we" and the "us" are those who believe, whether ourselves today or the godly remnant of Israel in a coming day. And those who believe are those who have first confessed that they are sinners.
The verse before speaks of griefs and sorrows carried. This one speaks of something more, and one writer marks the shift:
In sympathy He bore our griefs: in atonement He bore the punishment due to our sins. Blessed Saviour! "Upon Him was the chastisement that brought us peace." There was no other way. But thanks be to God, we can now say, "with His wounds we are healed." The wounds were His; the healing is ours.
Wounds, bruises and stripes sound like the work of soldiers and mobs. One writer rules that out:
The wounds, the bruises and the stripes that bring blessing did not come from human hands. They tell us what our sins deserved. They tell us what He bore for us at the hand of a righteous and holy God, when He carried our sins.
Some soften the word translated "chastisement" into suffering without penalty. One writer answers by pressing the word itself:
Some argue that "while it is true that Jesus is our substitute, He is our substitute only in suffering, not in punishment. Sin was not punished on the cross. The cross was a scene of wonderful mercy and love, not of wrath and penalty." Yet Scripture still says, "Upon Him was the chastisement that brought us peace." One scholar, Delitzsch, says of that word, "We have translated the Hebrew word 'musar' as 'punishment,' and the language had no other word for this idea."
Peace, then, is not something we produce or grow into. It comes from a cause outside ourselves:
If the chastisement that brought us peace was upon Him, then He took our place in drinking that dreadful cup. He was our (believers') representative there. God dealt with Him this way because our sins were laid on Him. That is why peace comes to us. It is not because we became righteous in ourselves. Our peace is the result of His chastisement.
Some read the healing as a promise that our bodies will be cured. The writers disagree, and point to a different healing:
This is not bodily healing. It is healing from the deadly disease of sin. The stripes are the stripes of God's judgment, poured out on Him at the cross.
Another writer answers this more plainly:
Some claim that Christ died for our bodily ills as well, and that the stripes laid on Him were for the healing of our bodies. This is a most dangerous twisting of the truth. Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, but nowhere is it written that He died for our bodily diseases.
- Ours. The transgressions and iniquities in this verse belong to us, not to Him.
- His. The wounding, the bruising, the chastisement and the stripes are all His — the exchange runs one way.
- God's. Those stripes came not from human hands but from a righteous God dealing with sins laid on Him.
- Peace. Our peace is the effect of His chastisement, not the effect of any change in us.
- Healing. The healing is healing from the disease of sin. Only those who first confess they are sinners can claim it.
All we like sheep have gone astray, we have turned every one to his own way; and Jehovah hath laid upon him the iniquity of us all.
Isaiah 53:6 stands at the centre of the chapter's confession: a scattered flock, each animal on its own path, and one Man carrying what they all deserved. Commentators press three questions here — what our straying was, who the "we" and "us all" are, and whose hand did the laying.
The verse describes our sin twice over, and one writer reads each clause as a separate charge.
What words are like God's words? Here in two short sentences God describes our character and our condemnation. Like sheep we have strayed, and in our straying we have shown the folly of our sin. "We have turned every one to his own way," and by that we have declared the wilfulness, the wickedness of our sin. After we had declared so definitely and deliberately what we are, what could fall on us but the just condemnation of God? But God has undertaken for us, and whether it be the folly or the wilfulness of our sin — all our iniquity He laid on our Surety. It is the saved remnant of Israel that is speaking these wonderful words, but every believer may use them.
One writer defines sin by that phrase, "his own way."
Sin is lawlessness; doing our own will regardless of God's will, and going our own way independently of Him.
The verse includes everyone, yet no two paths are the same.
The mouth is all the more free and full to admit its wicked folly: "All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way." There was no exception. All had strayed, yet each in his own evil way. Yet in the face of all these wrongs, and out of His own spontaneous and all-conquering goodness, Jehovah made the iniquity of us all fall on Him.
The pronouns matter. One writer asks who the "we" and the "us" are. His answer decides how far substitution reaches.
In this great verse two things strike us. First, it is "all we" and "us all." Who are the "we" and the "us"? The people of God who confess their sins and believe in the Substitute. Exactly so. The propitiatory work of Christ opens the door in righteousness to whoever will. But its substitutionary effect reaches believers only.
The verb belongs to God, not to us. One writer sets this beside Aaron, who once confessed the people's sins over a goat.
Further, it is the Lord Himself who laid our sins on the Substitute. Aaron no doubt confessed and laid on the head of the goat all that he knew and remembered of the people's transgressions. But how could he confess them all? A well-known hymn may say, "I lay my sins on Jesus," but we may well be thankful that it is not left to us to do it. God Himself has done it by one act, and so done it perfectly.
The verse is repeatedly used as the clearest proof text for one Person standing in the place of another.
Substitution is as certain a truth as Scripture can give us — that is, one person standing in another's place, bearing his sins in His own body on the tree, bruised for them instead of the guilty, who is healed by the other taking the stripes.
The moment matters. Some hold that Christ carried our sins all through His life. One writer answers them from this verse.
If He had been bearing our sins all His life, He must all His life have been abandoned by God. God cannot look on sin with the least allowance. But no: Isaiah 53:6 shows that Jehovah laid our iniquity on His Anointed when He hung on the tree.
If God laid the sins, the believer's peace does not rest on his own grip.
If anything could have made this doubtful, it was our sins. But they were laid — yes, He laid on Christ (Isaiah 53:6) the iniquity of us all. Christ bore our sins in His own body on the tree. Where are they now? When He had made purification of sins, He sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high. Not one sin did God leave on the believer; not one did Christ carry into heaven.
The sheep image runs on into rescue. The flock's danger was not only the enemies outside.
They had inward faults as well as outward foes. They had all gone astray. Everyone had turned to his own way. And on the One then speaking to them Jehovah would lay the iniquities of them all. He is the Shepherd, and the sword of divine judgment would soon strike Him for the sake of the flock. He guarantees salvation to anyone who seeks it from Him.
- Straying — the first clause names our folly, the second our wilfulness. All went astray, yet each chose his own route.
- Confession — the "we" here are people who have admitted they are sinners. The door stands open to whoever will, but Christ bears the sins of believers only.
- Laying — God Himself, not the sinner, placed the iniquity on the Substitute. Aaron could never name every sin, so God did it for us, and did it perfectly.
- Timing — God laid the load on Him at the cross. He did not carry it through His life; the bruising and the forsaking belong to that hour.
- Result — God left no sin on the believer, and Christ carried none into heaven. The stricken Shepherd now guarantees salvation to anyone who comes to Him.
He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, but he opened not his mouth; he was led as a lamb to the slaughter, and was as a sheep dumb before her shearers, and he opened not his mouth.
Isaiah wrote long before Jesus stood on trial. He describes a sufferer who says nothing while men crush Him. Two questions follow: why did He not speak, and what do the lamb and the sheep tell us about His death?
The natural reaction to injustice is to answer back. One writer also separates the two animal pictures in the verse:
Verse 7 stresses His silence before His accusers. When men are oppressed and afflicted unjustly, protest is natural and usual. His silence went against all experience, and the Gospels note it — Matthew 27:11-14; Mark 15:3-4; Luke 23:9; John 19:9. A sheep really is silent before the shearers. Anyone can see that today by watching shearers at work. But He was not like a sheep being sheared. He was like a lamb led to the slaughter. He was indeed "the Lamb of God," as John the Baptist announced, yet no word of protest escaped His lips.
The earlier verses of the chapter are a confession. From verse 7 the speaker changes:
We have listened to the confession of the godly remnant. Now we hear the voice of Jehovah as He confirms their confession and bears witness to the excellencies of Christ. The remnant have already confessed that He was stricken and afflicted. Now Jehovah bears witness to His perfection: when He was afflicted and oppressed "He opened not His mouth", and "like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so He opened not His mouth". Men may oppress and afflict, but if He was stricken it was not for any wrongdoing on His part. He submitted to every indignity from man to carry out the will of God in bearing the transgression of God's people.
Silence can mean a person has no power to answer. Here it meant the opposite:
Not a word did He utter. Why was this? Answer me that. Those small creatures of His own hand insulted their Creator. He could have thrown them out of existence with a single word. Why then did He keep silence? … The love of His heart for sinners brought Him to this.
Behind the quietness lay a settled purpose, and the offering He brought was Himself:
Christ also drew near to God, but in the perfect offering of Himself, not by the offering of another. Nothing is more moving, or more worthy of deep attention, than the way Jesus freely presents Himself. He does it so that God may be fully glorified in Him. He was silent in His sufferings, and that silence came from a deep and perfect determination to give Himself up, in obedience, to this glory.
Israel knew about sacrificial lambs. Hardly anyone expected the lamb to be a man standing in front of them:
Isaiah (53:7) had written of One who is "like a lamb that is led to the slaughter." John spoke of a man present before him, and called Him the "Lamb of God." All Jews knew about sacrificial lambs. But few, if any, understood then that a man would be the sacrifice, though Psalm 40 and Isaiah 53 had predicted it. And this One, the Lamb of God, would do what no other sacrifice had attempted or could achieve. He would take away the sin of the world.
His silence was not a blanket rule. There was one thing He would always speak for:
In the perfection of His way, He knows when to speak and when to keep silence. He will speak for the truth, but when it is a question of meeting personal malice against Himself, He is silent. It is good for us to profit by His perfect example, and to follow in the steps of the One who did not revile in return when others reviled Him. There is a time when silence has a far greater effect on the conscience than any word anyone can speak. Yet such silence is completely foreign to our fallen nature.
Peter later echoes the prophet's words line by line:
The prophet foretells that under insults "He opened not His mouth." The apostle can say He was One who, "when He was reviled, did not revile in return; when He suffered, He did not threaten." Jehovah says through the prophet, "For the transgression of my people was He stricken." The apostle says, "He Himself bore our sins in His body on the tree" (1 Peter 2:21–25).
- Oppressed — men crushed Him unjustly. The Gospels record the trials where this came true.
- Silent — protest would have been natural. His silence went against all human experience.
- Willing — He could have destroyed His accusers with a word. His quietness came from a settled determination to give Himself up in obedience.
- Lamb — Isaiah foretold a sacrifice who was a person. That Lamb would do what no animal offering could: take away sin.
- Followed — Peter echoes these words for believers: when reviled, He did not revile back.
He was taken from oppression and from judgment; and who shall declare his generation? for he was cut off out of the land of the living; for the transgression of my people was he stricken.
The verse moves from the courtroom that condemned Him to God's own reason for His death. Two questions sit inside it: what does "his generation" mean, and why was a righteous man cut off at all?
The first phrase looks at what men did to Him. One writer follows the clause into the Greek version an Ethiopian traveller was reading in Acts 8, and calls in a legal expert.
Then further, "by oppression and judgment he was taken away," for it is still what men did to Him that is before us in these verses. If we turn to Acts 8:26-40, we find that the Ethiopian had reached this exact point in his reading of Isaiah when Philip stopped him in his chariot. He was no doubt reading from the Greek version, which renders it, "in His humiliation His judgment was taken away." And so it was. The trial of our Lord ended in His condemnation and crucifixion. It was the most shocking miscarriage of justice the world has ever seen. A legal expert has surveyed the evidence of the Gospels. He stated that every step His accusers and judges took, Jews and Gentiles alike, was irregular and unjust.
The phrase "my people" is the clue to who is speaking here. So does the way the verse justifies the One men condemned.
Two clear considerations support reading these verses as the words of Jehovah. First, the words "stricken for the transgression of My people" are literal evidence that they are. Second, this passage justifies the Messiah, and that is moral evidence of the same. Judgment, and the justification that follows it, belongs here to God and not to the saints.
Commentators differ on this question. One reading takes "generation" as the crowd of that day, and hears the prophet gasping at their guilt.
Differing interpretations of this clause are by no means lacking. But the earlier words may point to the wicked mockery of our Lord's trial before the Roman governor: "his judgment was taken away." If so, the prophet is overwhelmed by the nation's wickedness in bringing about the rejection and death of Jehovah's Righteous Servant. He is led to cry out, "Who shall declare such a generation as could be so guilty" — "for he was cut off out of the land of the living"!
The other reading takes "generation" as descendants. Then the question is a lament: the family line ends before it begins.
In the fifty-third of Isaiah, the rich seed-field of New Testament truth, we find first of all the Messiah come and cut off, with no descendants. So blessing seems to fail completely: cut off Himself, He has none who spring from Him — none who carry on His name and character.
The last line of the verse gives the reason behind His death.
When we reach verse 10 of our chapter we find the answer Jehovah gives to this question. It is a very different one. He was cut off and stricken not for Himself, but for the transgression of those whom Jehovah calls "My people."
Some have argued the blows fell on Israel rather than on Him. The wording rules that out, and the chapter piles up phrase after phrase to say so.
What does it mean that He was pierced for our transgressions? Crushed for our iniquities? That the punishment which brought us peace was on Him? What does it mean that Jehovah laid on Him the iniquity of us all? "Stricken for the transgression of My people" — the stroke fell on Him, not on Israel, as the Jews say. Still more decisive: "it was the will of Jehovah to crush Him."
The question does not stay unanswered. His death gave Him the family He seemed to have lost.
Not until resurrection could He see His seed. His own words say why: "unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit" (John 12). It was after death and in resurrection that He said to Mary, "Go to My brothers and say to them … My Father and your Father, My God and your God." These were His seed, His generation. And the multitudes who "believe in Him through their word" (John 17) are the answer to the prophet's lament, "Who shall declare His generation, for He was cut off out of the land of the living?"
This is the exact place in Isaiah where one traveller's search ended.
These verses emphasise the unrighteous and perverted judgment passed on the Lord Jesus, and the way in which He received everything from God — not protesting His innocence or arguing against the sentence, but quietly submitting to the injustice, knowing there was a deeper purpose in view. Beginning at that same scripture Philip preached Jesus to the Ethiopian. It was effective and he received Christ.
- Oppression. His trial was not justice but its opposite — every step against Him irregular and unjust.
- Voice. The words are God's own: He speaks of "My people," and He justifies the Servant men condemned.
- Substitution. The stroke fell on Him, not for Himself, but for the transgression of those God calls "My people."
- Generation. Commentators differ: either the guilty crowd no one could describe, or the descendants a man cut off can never have.
- Seed. Verse 10 answers verse 8: through death He gains the family He seemed to lose.
And [men] appointed his grave with the wicked, but he was with the rich in his death, because he had done no violence, neither was there guile in his mouth.
Isaiah's prophecy has just described a servant put to death. This verse turns to His body, and it holds two opposite fates together: a criminal's grave and a rich man's tomb. So who decided where He was buried?
Much of the meaning turns on translation. Older English Bibles read as if the servant made His own grave. Writers say this hides the point. Someone else assigned Him that grave.
It is unfortunate that the King James Version gives us such a poor translation of this verse. Translated literally, it reads: "And men appointed His grave with the wicked, but He was with the rich in His death, because He had done no violence, and there was no deceit in His mouth." The King James wording, "He made His grave with the wicked," is wrong. The enemy wanted to throw His body where the bodies of the wicked were thrown. The power of God made that impossible.
One small detail of wording carries weight.
As is well known, "the wicked" is plural, while "rich" is singular. So the simple facts are the best comment on the prediction. Man proposed, but God disposed. He alone could set it out long before, and He did. In their own thinking, men assigned Him a grave with the wicked. In fact, by God's purpose, He was with a rich man in His death.
Hatred does not stop at death.
The Jews had certainly planned to put the blessed holy body of the Son of God into the common pit, along with the bodies of the two criminals who died beside Him. Satan's malice went beyond the betrayal by a close friend. It also wanted His body thrown into that pit after His death. God's answer to this insult to His Son was already on record.
One man fulfilled this line of prophecy. He appears in the story once and then disappears: Joseph of Arimathea.
And so it came to pass. He was crucified between two wicked men, though one of them was wonderfully saved before he died. If men had had their way, they would have flung His sacred body into a common grave with the bodies of the thieves. Joseph of Arimathea stepped in and stopped it, and His body lay in the new tomb that belonged to Joseph. God always has the needed man for His work. Joseph was born into the world to fulfil that one line of Scripture!
Notice when Joseph acted.
The death of Christ produced what His life had never produced. Joseph comes out boldly. He claims the body of Jesus, receives it, and buries it in his own new tomb.
The verse gives a reason for this honoured burial. The reason is His own character.
God made sure that this Perfect One "was with the rich in His death," because He was sinless. "Violence" and "deceit," the two things that mark sin, were both completely absent from Him. Violence marks those who are strong, and deceit those who are weak. But He "had done no violence, and there was no deceit in His mouth." Jehovah points to Him—the Perfect One.
So the burial is God's own verdict on a life that men had dismissed.
Verse 9 shows, by His burial in the rich man's tomb, that God has fixed a limit to the wicked activity of sinful men... God makes sure to show how He values the moral beauty of that life. Men may say, "there is no beauty that we should desire Him." The charm and moral perfection of that blessed Man were unattractive to those who did not believe. Yet there was supreme beauty there. Like the Passover lamb, the Saviour had passed the inspection of God's holy eyes — kept from the tenth day to the fourteenth and proved to be without blemish or spot.
One more detail carries weight. No one had ever lain in that tomb before.
It was new in the sense that the grave had never before received a sinless occupant. The grave and the dead have always belonged together, for God had said, "you are dust, and to dust you shall return." But the body of Jesus did not belong to the grave. For the first time in human history the grave had received a body that could not decay, because it was a sinless one. Yet His burial was as real as His death, and here is the gospel: "Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures ... that he was buried."
- Appointed — men planned a grave for Him among criminals. The verse records their plan, not His choice.
- Overruled — God set a limit to their malice, so that the plural "wicked" gave way to a single "rich man."
- Provided — Joseph of Arimathea had stayed silent. God kept him in reserve to fulfil one line of prophecy.
- Because — the honour had a reason. Violence and deceit, the two marks of sin, were absent from Him.
- Undefiled — a tomb that had never held a body received one that could not decay. That burial is part of the gospel itself.