Raphael’s fresco of the prophet Isaiah appeared just two years after Michelangelo completed his portrait of the same figure. It was commissioned by Johannes Goriz of Luxemburg, Head Chancellor of the Papal Court, and painted in the Church of Saint Agostino in Rome. Art historian Vasari relates that after completing this order Raphael saw Michelangelo’s work in the Sistine Chapel, and immediately repainted his own figure, magnifying its proportions.
Although the work is reminiscent of the master, it possesses a captivating beauty all its own. “Nature bestowed upon Raphael the gift of painting the sweetest and most gracious expressions on on faces,”1 and that is evidenced here in the calm, spiritual countenance and deep lustrous eyes. Yet Vasari also reported that the chancellor confided to Michelangelo that he felt he had paid too much for the painting. To these words, the Tuscan artist replied with a rather cryptic sentence: “The knee alone is worth its price.”
Be that as it may, one of the most striking features of the painting is the bared forearm and the hand grasping the parchment with Hebrew lettering, which cut diagonally across the portrait in the center of the picture. It is those two features, the arm and the parchment, which suggest profound reflection on the book of Isaiah on the part of the young artist.
The Metaphor of the Outstretched Arm
When the Lord delivered the Children of Israel at the Red Sea, after all the Egyptian soldiers had sunk into the depths like a stone, they broke into a song of thanksgiving:
Your right hand, O Lord is glorious in power … Terror and dread fall upon them; because of the greatness of your arm (Exodus 15:6,16).
The physical deliverance that was accomplished by the superior power of their God, Yahweh, continued to be celebrated throughout Israel’s history. Again and again, when the Hebrew nation was in crisis, they reminded themselves of the Lord’s saving power, his “mighty hand, and outstretched arm.” This was their favored metaphor to describe the omnipotent strength he employed for the deliverance of His people from oppression, and the punishment of their enemies.
The ultimate goal of this deliverance was the establishment of the people of Israel in their own land, and, when David finally came to the throne, this aspiration became further enlarged. The national focus then settled upon the hope of a king anointed by God, a descendant of David who would rule over an unending kingdom, and ensure an everlasting peace for his people.
Enter the Prophets
After the kingdom became divided, and the mighty empires surrounding Judah and the northern tribes continued to flex their military strength, this hope seemed less and less likely to be fulfilled. It was at this time that the great line of prophets arose, addressing the peoples of Judah and Israel as well as the surrounding kingdoms. While continually calling the people of God to repentance, their words to the world powers of the time were especially scathing.
Above all, their ire was directed toward the arrogant boasting and haughty pride of kings who sought to enlarge their spheres through force of arms and military conquest, and ruled their subject peoples with oppression and violence. To the prophets, power was a gift from heaven, intended to be exercised for the benefit of those governed, and this was the injustice that horrified them: that “one man crushed nations in his vat as men crushed shellfish to dye his imperial purple.”2 In their eyes, the endless wars of aggression wreaked not just death and destruction but also moral corruption.
All Judah’s bright hopes of political ascendancy crumbled into dust when Jerusalem was destroyed in 586 BC, and the nation was carried away into the Babylonian captivity. The sons and daughters of Judah were caught like “antelopes in the net” of the overweening ambitions of the empire. Languishing on the flat plains of Babylon, they continued to yearn passionately for their ruined city, and once again the prophetic message came to them. This time, however, it was replete with words which brought comfort and assurance to their crushed and broken spirits.
An Unexpected Messiah
”Lift up your eyes,” Isaiah urged them. The Chaldean magi might declare they knew the secrets of the stars they worshiped as powers in the universe, but the prophet knew it was Yahweh who ordered their shining courses, who was the Creator of the ends of the earth also, and whose unfailing power would be exercised on behalf of his own. In fact, he would again raise up for them a deliverer, as in the days of Egypt, once again bring another exodus. But when the identity of this deliverer was revealed, the people of Judah recoiled in shock:
Thus saith the Lord to his anointed [his Messiah], to Cyrus, whose right hand I have holden, to subdue nations before him; and I will loose the loins of kings, to open before him the two leaved gates; and the gates shall not be shut (Isaiah 45:1).
Cyrus the Great had emerged from an obscure background as ruler of a small fiefdom to conquer the kingdoms of the Medes and Persians, overthrow the Lydian empire, and finally capture Babylon, the “queen of kingdoms,” welding them into one of the largest empires the world has ever seen. There can be no doubt of Cyrus’s military and administrative genius, and the Greek historians ever after sang his praises. Yet to the orthodox people of Judah it was totally unexpected, abhorrent even, that this Gentile ruler should be given the exalted title reserved for the descendant of David: Messiah.
Further than that, the scriptures give no indication that Cyrus possessed outstanding virtues of character or religious dedication; the sole reason for God’s choice of him appears to be his political and military prowess. Yahweh’s people were not to be set free from Babylon by a series of miracles, as in the days of the Egyptian exodus; rather, the return of the Jews to Judah was to take place as a political development. Therefore, this one whom God summoned from the east as a “bird of prey,” possessing irresistible might, would swoop down like a great eagle upon Babylon, and the gates of brass and bars of iron would be cut in sunder before his relentless advance.
An Unfolding Drama of World Redemption
Thus, although Cyrus has stamped an ineffaceable imprint upon history, and the Greeks regard him as the most noble figure of antiquity, the Hebrews came to views him merely as an instrument to restore the fortunes of Judah. The Greeks would indeed find fantastic the idea that Cyrus had been raised up by God for the one overriding purpose of enabling an insignificant Jewish tribe to return to their tiny capital in the hill country of Judea. Yet Isaiah discerned these events through a lens which enabled him to understand their true import: they were not simply part of a political history that would eventually fade into oblivion, but belonged to an unfolding drama of world redemption.
The people of Israel were God’s elect, chosen by him for the purpose of bringing the knowledge of his kingship and reign to all the nations of the earth. Therefore, in God’s salvific program, it was imperative that they be restored to their land and city, rebuild their temple, and there devote themselves to the work of witness and worship. In the fulness of time, from the impassioned tongues of their writers and prophets, a flame would be kindled and the light and glory of it would fill the earth. The great revelation they had received of the One True God would reach all nations, and establish his righteousness and truth amongst them. This, then, was their universal destiny and calling, and the secret of their miraculous survival.
But when Cyrus affixed his seal to that parchment that gave the Jews permission to return their homeland, his role was finished and he vanishes from the scriptural record. The prophet’s gaze passes on from Cyrus to the return to Zion, and as it does so, we begin to find a separating out of physical and spiritual deliverance. It begins as a call goes out from the praying remnant in Babylon :
A Spiritual Redemption
Awake, awake, put on strength, O arm of the Lord; Awake as in the ancient days, in the generations of old (Isaiah 51:9).
And a heavenly reply came as an answer to this call: Depart, depart. They were to rise from their slumber of exile, and to be filled with expectant readiness. That was how it had been on the night the Israelites left Egypt: they ate the Passover with loins girded, their sandals on their feet and staffs in their hands. A new exodus was about to take place, but this time, unlike that earlier deliverance, they were to leave behind everything associated with idolatry. Rather than the plunder of silver and gold they took from Egypt, they would bear the sacred vessels that Nebuchadnezzar took from the temple. Nor would they leave in haste as their ancestors fled from Egypt, but rather go in solemn procession like priests of the Lord.
In short, the Judahites were required to be righteous for this restoration to their land as servants of God on behalf of humanity. Their political deliverance was accomplished through Cyrus, but along with the purely physical release they required a spiritual deliverance as well, a setting free from spiritual blindness, and healing of their broken relationship with God. Their guilty past was barring the way to their future, but God was yearning over his people with unshakeable love, and arousing himself to take an unprecedented step on their behalf:
And he saw that there was no man, and wondered that there was no intercessor: therefore his arm brought salvation unto him; and his righteousness, it sustained him (Isaiah 59:16).
Yahweh chooses not to remain isolated from his people in transcendent heavenly splendor, but himself determines to come down for their salvation. He is planning to accomplish their restoration to righteousness through an extraordinary human personality, who in some mysterious way acts as his own representative. The understanding that the people of Judah could never fulfill God’s calling unaided, nor establish his justice and righteousness in the world through their own efforts, had long been borne in upon the prophetic witnesses. It is for this reason that their gaze focused more and more intently on the Messianic figure, often represented as a king, or a prophet or priest. But now, through Isaiah, their portrait of this exalted human ruler was about to become much more complex.
The Servant is Introduced
Another figure, veiled and enigmatic, had been introduced by the prophet along with Cyrus. He vanishes and reappears in a remarkable series of passages, commonly called the Servant Songs. This is the one to whom God entrusts the performance of a service for the world which lies beyond all human thought and conception. It is here also that we encounter the mountain peaks and ocean depths of Isaiah’s thought, as the prophet summons all his literary and descriptive powers to delineate the incomparable beauty of this character, which yet lies hidden to human eyes.
The Servant is first mentioned in chapter 42 as one who will bring mishpat, justice, to the nations. This is a mission vast in its scope, requiring nothing less than world conquest. With what weapons, then, will the Servant advance upon this enterprise? To our surprise, we read the initial description of his methods:
He shall not cry, nor lift up, nor cause his voice to be heard in the street. A bruised reed shall he not break, and the smoking flax shall he not quench: he shall bring forth judgment unto truth (Isaiah 42:2,3).
He is not a military conqueror like Cyrus, but is gentle and quiet, full of compassion and tenderness for the bruised and laboring ones of the earth. Led and equipped by the Spirit of God, he is faithful and persevering, and the sole weapon of his warfare is the word of God.
Isaiah’s Consummate Theology
In chapter 53, the heart of Isaiah’s gospel, the Servant steps into full view; his presence is powerful, yet in this song he never utters a word, but is silent as a lamb, and it is others who bear witness to him. At first they were bewildered by the variety of sufferings they saw him enduring – his griefs, sorrows, wounds, bruises, smiting, chastisement, stripes, and rejection – and then they were shocked by his violent and unjust death. Such exceptional sufferings, they thought, must be the penalty for his own sins and transgressions. But when they discern the Servant’s stainless purity of character, another understanding begins to break in.
From ancient times, under the Mosaic system, the bodies of bulls and goats had been offered up daily in the temple in Jerusalem, and now the witnesses see this same principle is at work in the suffering and death of the Servant. They realize that they themselves were the ones who deserved those sufferings and that death, yet the Servant had taken their place and was suffering in their stead, so they might find redemption, peace, and healing of their broken relationship with God. His soul had been made a sacrificial offering for their sins, as part of the unexpected work of the Messiah, who is here presented neither as King nor Lord, but as One whose only role is that of Sufferer.
From Humiliation to Triumph
Therefore will I divide Him a portion with the great, and He shall divide the spoil with the strong; because He hath poured out His soul unto death (Isaiah 53:12).
The Lord’s own declaration breaks in upon their musings. After the Servant completes his mission, he will be crowned with glory and honor, laden like a triumphant warrior with all the spoils of victory. From uttermost humiliation he will be raised to absolute dominion, and his conquests shall then know no limit, but will stride on unfailingly, and extend into all the world.
From our vantage point it is easy to see that the great prophetic picture of this figure, so highly exalted in suffering love, could be assigned to only one Person in history. Other conquerors may lead long lines of captives, such as we see on the walls of ancient palaces. But Jesus has led captive countless numbers, who have been drawn willingly to follow in his train. What is the secret of his conquering power? They have been drawn by the sweetness and beauty of a love which gives itself for others; the sacrifice of Christ is the irresistible magnet which compels a myriad of souls to come after him.
Christ has opened the gates of righteousness to countless followers, and therefore the scroll in the hand of Raphael’s Isaiah reads as follows:
Open ye the gates, that the righteous nation which keepeth the truth may enter in (Isaiah 26:2).
- Vasari, Giorgio, The Life of Raphael Sanzio, 1550.
- Smith, George Adam, The Book of Isaiah, 1895, Hodder & Stoughton, London, p 198.