Crushed for Our Healing: The Gospel According to Isaiah
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Sermon Title: Crushed for Our Healing: The Gospel According to Isaiah
Scripture: Isaiah 53
Occasion: Good Friday
Date: April 18, 2025
Opening Prayer
Opening Prayer
O Holy God,
On this solemn night, we gather beneath the shadow of the cross.
Still our hearts, silence our distractions, and fix our eyes on Jesus—
The Man of Sorrows, acquainted with grief,
Pierced for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities.
Open Your Word to us now, and open us to Your Word.
What we know not, teach us.
What we are not, make us.
What we have not, give us—
All through the suffering and risen Christ.
In His precious name we pray,
Amen.
INTRODUCTION: The Story That Changes Every Story
INTRODUCTION: The Story That Changes Every Story
In 1865, as the Civil War was ending, a pastor in Richmond, Virginia watched from his window as wounded Union and Confederate soldiers lay side by side in the field hospital outside his church.
Some were bitter.
Others were weeping.
Many were silent.
But a few, despite their enemies lying next to them, were singing softly.
What were they singing?
"Man of Sorrows! What a name / For the Son of God who came / Ruined sinners to reclaim! / Hallelujah! What a Savior!"
This is what Good Friday is about:
A wounded Savior who brings healing to wounded enemies.
The title of our sermon tonight is:
"Crushed for Our Healing: The Gospel According to Isaiah."
And here is what you will see of Jesus, the suffering servant, in the text:
Despised and Rejected (vv. 1–3)
Pierced and Substituted (vv. 4–6)
Silent and Sinless (vv. 7–9)
Satisfied and Exalted (vv. 10–12)
Isaiah's words here are not vague poetry.
They are prophetic revelation.
And tonight, we will walk through these precious lines verse by verse, with the prayer that God would reveal His Servant—Jesus Christ—in all His suffering and glory.
CONTEXT: The Gospel in the Prophets
CONTEXT: The Gospel in the Prophets
Isaiah prophesied during the 8th century BC, a time of moral decay, national instability, and spiritual confusion.
His message begins with warning and judgment—from chapters 1 to 39—calling God's people to repentance.
But from chapter 40 onward, Isaiah lifts the eyes of the people with words of comfort and consolation.
The comfort, however, would not come through political power or national strength.
It would come through the Servant of the Lord—God’s chosen One who would bring salvation not only to Israel, but to the nations.
This Servant appears in four poetic songs (Isa. 42, 49, 50, and 52–53).
Isaiah 53 is the final and climactic Servant Song.
It is the Mount Everest of Old Testament prophecy, and from its summit we can see the cross more clearly than anywhere else in the Hebrew Scriptures.
And now, with hearts made ready by this context, let us begin to climb this sacred mountain together.
I. DESPISED AND REJECTED (vv. 1–3)
I. DESPISED AND REJECTED (vv. 1–3)
Who has believed what he has heard from us? And to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?
This opening lament highlights the shocking unbelief of the people.
The “arm of the Lord”—God’s power to save (cf. Isa. 52:10)—has been revealed, but few have truly seen it.
Why?
Because the Servant’s appearance did not fit the world’s expectations.
His power was hidden in weakness.
His glory veiled in humility.
Salvation came—not by spectacle—but by suffering.
As the Apostle John reflects in John 12:38, this very verse explains why Israel rejected Jesus.
They could not fathom that God's Messiah would suffer.
But the gospel turns everything upside down:
The Messiah saves not by crushing His enemies, but by being crushed for them.
Transition to next verse:
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.
Christ's beginnings were humble, almost unnoticeable—like a small plant trying to grow in dry, cracked ground.
No royal upbringing.
No majestic aura.
He was raised in despised Nazareth (John 1:46), born in a borrowed stable, and laid in a feeding trough.
The world looks for charisma, power, beauty.
But He came in meekness.
The Son of God chose obscurity, so He could be near the lowly.
This is the paradox of the gospel:
The very One who should command our gaze is the One from whom we avert our eyes.
Transition to verse 3:
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.
The Servant was not just ignored—He was loathed.
Despised.
Treated as repulsive.
He entered into the full depth of human pain and rejection.
He did not hover above suffering—He became “a man of sorrows.”
Not just familiar with grief, but acquainted—like a friend who lives with you.
And still, we turned away.
Isaiah doesn’t say they esteemed him not—he says we did not.
This is our guilt.
Our blindness.
Like those soldiers in Richmond, we are wounded and grieving—but apart from grace, we would miss the wounded Savior who alone can heal us.
John Calvin rightly observed: “He was so marred in our estimation, that we could not bear to look upon him.”
And yet, it is by looking to Him, the despised One, that we are saved.
"He had no beauty that we should desire him."
But to those who see with the eyes of faith, there is no One more beautiful than the One who bore our griefs.
Transition:
Though we turned away from Him, He did not turn away from us.
While we despised and rejected Him, He bore the weight of our rejection—and more.
Isaiah now pulls back the veil, showing not only that the Servant suffered, but why He suffered.
We saw Him stricken and assumed it was His fault.
But we were wrong.
His suffering was not for His own sin—but for ours.
II. PIERCED AND SUBSTITUTED (vv. 4–6)
II. PIERCED AND SUBSTITUTED (vv. 4–6)
Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted.
The word “surely” signals a shocking reality—we thought He was cursed by God for His own wrongdoing.
But the truth?
He was carrying our griefs.
Our sorrows.
The Servant enters into our suffering not merely with empathy but with atonement.
He shoulders the weight we could not bear.
Yet, we looked on with confusion and contempt—misinterpreting mercy as judgment.
“We esteemed Him stricken”—a divine outcast.
But Isaiah now declares the stunning reversal.
But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed.
This is the Mount Everest of Old Testament gospel clarity.
Every word speaks of substitution.
Pierced, crushed, chastised, wounded—and not for His own sin, but for ours.
Pierced—a reference that anticipates the nails of Calvary (John 19:34).
Crushed—a word of violence, wrath, and total judgment.
Peace—not sentimental peace, but reconciliation with a holy God.
Healing—not merely physical, but the restoration of our souls.
This is the great reversal:
The innocent condemned, the guilty healed.
He became what we are so that we might become what He is.
For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.
Transition to next verse:
All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned—every one—to his own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.
The indictment is universal:
All we like sheep.
Every one of us has chosen autonomy over obedience, sin over God.
But notice what God does—not lay our iniquity on us, but on Him.
This is the heart of the gospel—penal substitutionary atonement.
Our sin.
His punishment.
Our peace.
His pain.
Luther called this “The Great Exchange.”
Christ takes our guilt; we receive His righteousness.
It is not fair.
It is grace.
Illustration:
Like a judge who removes his robe, steps down from the bench, and takes the place of the condemned—He doesn't just declare us innocent, He absorbs the penalty.
Transition:
And how did the Servant respond?
He did not protest.
He did not resist.
He went willingly, like a lamb to the slaughter.
Let us now behold the silent submission of the sinless Savior.
III. SILENT AND SINLESS (vv. 7–9)
III. SILENT AND SINLESS (vv. 7–9)
He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth.
Jesus did not protest His arrest, His beating, or His crucifixion.
Why?
Because He came willingly.
He was not a victim of circumstance—He was the Passover Lamb, fulfilling the will of God with silent submission.
Like a lamb being led, He walked toward death without resistance—not out of weakness, but out of obedience and love.
By oppression and judgment he was taken away; and as for his generation, who considered that he was cut off out of the land of the living, stricken for the transgression of my people?
This was no fair trial.
It was an illegal, hurried judgment fueled by fear and hatred.
But though the crowd condemned Him and Pilate washed his hands, Isaiah reminds us:
He was “cut off” not for Himself—but “for the transgression of [HIS] people.”
This was willing substitution, not accidental tragedy.
Justice miscarried on earth, yet justice was fulfilled in heaven.
And they made his grave with the wicked and with a rich man in his death, although he had done no violence, and there was no deceit in his mouth.
He was numbered with criminals in His death—but buried in a rich man’s tomb.
The details of His burial—fulfilled in Joseph of Arimathea’s act (Matt. 27:57)—testify to God’s sovereign hand over every moment.
And still, the prophet emphasizes:
He was innocent.
No violence.
No deceit.
He suffered as the Righteous One, dying for the unrighteous.
As 1 Peter 2:22 says, “He committed no sin, neither was deceit found in his mouth.”
Silent before man.
Sinless before God.
Transition to Point 4:
And yet, this crushing silence and undeserved suffering was not the end.
In fact, it was the beginning of something glorious.
The Servant who was silenced and buried will now rise, satisfied and exalted.
IV. SATISFIED AND EXALTED (vv. 10–12)
IV. SATISFIED AND EXALTED (vv. 10–12)
Yet it was the will of the Lord to crush him; he has put him to grief…
This is the deepest mystery of Good Friday:
Behind the cruelty of man was the will of a sovereign God.
The cross was not plan B.
It was God’s sovereign plan of redemption from the beginning.
The word “crush” echoes Genesis 3:15—He was bruised to crush the serpent’s head.
This Servant was not just permitted to suffer—He was sovereignly and providentially appointed to suffer according to God’s will and good pleasure.
The suffering of Jesus was no reaction or accident.
It was the will of the Lord to crush him and put the Son to grief.
Yet it was the will of the Lord to crush him; he has put him to grief; WHEN his soul makes an offering for guilt, he shall see his offspring; he shall prolong his days; the will of the Lord shall prosper in his hand.
This is resurrection glory!
Though crushed, He lives.
Though buried, He rises.
Death could not hold Him, because His sacrifice was accepted.
And now, He sees His offspring—the redeemed church, sons and daughters brought into the family of God.
And the mission of the Servant prospers because He completed it.
Mission Accomplished.
The words of Jesus on the cross, “It is finished” (John 19:30) were not words of defeat—but words triumph.
Out of the anguish of his soul he shall see and be satisfied…
What satisfied the soul of Christ?
Not vengeance.
Not relief.
But redemption!
He saw sinners ransomed.
Suffering wasn’t just endured—it was fruitful.
The anguish of Gethsemane and Golgotha gave birth to joy:
The joy of saving many.
That’s the words of the author of Hebrews in Hebrews 12 isn't it?
Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us,
looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.
Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted.
In your struggle against sin you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood.
And have you forgotten the exhortation that addresses you as sons? “My son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord, nor be weary when reproved by him.
For the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and chastises every son whom he receives.”
The joy set before Jesus was the salvation of sinners.
What sustained the Suffering Servant through the agony of the cross was not the absence of pain, but the presence of purpose.
He endured the wrath of God—not for His sin, but for ours.
The chastisement of God fell upon the sinless Son, so that we, the guilty, could be at peace with God.
And that was His joy—knowing that through His suffering, many would be saved… many would be brought near… many would be received, not as strangers, but as sons and daughters of the Most High.
This is the love of Christ:
To embrace the cross with joy, so that we might embrace the Father in peace.
(Hymn by Stuart Townend)
How deep the Father’s love for us,
How vast beyond all measure,
That He should give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure.
How great the pain of searing loss –
The Father turns His face away,
As wounds which mar the Chosen One
Bring many sons to glory.
Transition to next verse:
Therefore I will divide him a portion with the many, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong, BECAUSE he poured out his soul to death and was numbered with the transgressors; yet he bore the sin of many, and makes intercession for the transgressors.
The Lamb who was slain is now the King who reigns.
Because He poured Himself out, God exalted Him above all (Phil. 2:9–11).
He was numbered with the guilty so that the guilty might be numbered with the righteous.
He bore our sin and now shares His reward.
As Spurgeon said,
“This chapter is the Bible in miniature, the Gospel in essence, the very core of the Christian faith.”
Transition to Conclusion:
And so the story that began with rejection ends in resurrection.
The Servant was crushed, but through His wounds, we are healed.
He was forsaken, that we might be brought near.
Now, as we come to the Table, we come not in mourning—but in worship, for the Man of Sorrows is the risen Savior.
CONCLUSION: The Supper and the Song
CONCLUSION: The Supper and the Song
Let me take you back once more to that makeshift hospital in Richmond, 1865—wounded Union and Confederate soldiers, enemies in war, now lying side by side.
Bloodied.
Weeping.
Dying.
Yet, amid the silence, a song rose up:
"Man of Sorrows! What a name / For the Son of God who came / Ruined sinners to reclaim..."
Why would dying men sing about Him?
Because they understood, maybe better than most, what Isaiah 53 reveals:
Only this Man—this despised and rejected, pierced and crushed, silent and sinless, satisfied and exalted Servant—can heal wounds that go deeper than flesh.
Are you afflicted with guilt?
He was pierced for your transgressions.
Are you burdened by shame?
He was crushed for your iniquities.
Do you feel far from God?
He was forsaken that you might be brought near.
Isaiah doesn’t merely describe pain—he declares hope.
He doesn’t just show us a slain Lamb—he shows us a risen King.
And now, we respond:
Not with mere emotion, but with reverent worship and deep gratitude.
As we prepare to take the Lord’s Supper, remember:
This meal is the visible sermon of Isaiah 53.
The bread is His bruised body.
The cup is His poured-out blood.
And every bite, every sip, is a reminder:
“By His wounds we are healed.”
So come—
Come, broken one.
Come, weary sinner.
Come, beloved of God.
Come to the Table.
Behold the Man of Sorrows, risen in glory.
Hallelujah, what a Savior!
Amen.
PRAYER
Father in heaven,
We come now in quiet reverence,
Stilled by the weight of Your Word,
Awed by the depth of Your love,
And moved by the suffering of Your Servant.
Thank You for sending the Lamb who was despised and rejected—
A Man of Sorrows for a world of rebels.
Thank You that He bore our griefs, carried our sorrows,
And was pierced for our transgressions.
We confess, Lord, that we have gone astray—each of us turning to our own way.
But You, in mercy, laid our iniquity on Him.
And now, because He was crushed, we are healed.
Because He was cut off, we are brought near.
So as we come to the Table,
We do not come boasting in ourselves,
But broken, needy, grateful.
We come not to earn, but to remember—
To remember the body that was given,
And the blood that was poured out for the forgiveness of sins.
O Father, set apart this bread and this cup—
That as we eat and drink in faith,
We might behold the Lamb of God
And proclaim His death until He comes.
Fix our eyes on Jesus,
Who for the joy set before Him endured the cross,
And is now exalted—satisfied—and seated at Your right hand.
May we consider Him, tonight.
May this Supper be our song tonight:
"By His wounds we are healed."
In the name of our crucified and risen Savior, Jesus Christ, I pray,
Amen.
