There is a path for the well-trained servant
There are four “servant of the Lord” oracles in Isaiah. These passages are also known as the “suffering servant songs,” which reveal what a well-trained disciple might have to face. Today’s first reading highlights the third oracle with an opening question posed in the servant’s voice: “Who disputes my right?” (Is 50:8).
The Lord keeps the little ones; I was brought low and he saved me (Ps 116:6).
In what way is it a privilege to serve in ministry?
How have you experienced hardship because of your faith?
Where does the pilgrimage of Christ require you to follow?
This anonymous servant has a right to speak because he first learned to listen: “The Lord God opens my ear that I may hear” (Is 50:5). As the servant’s ears remain opened, the imagery continues last Sunday’s theme of Ephphatha (“be opened”) with its strong emphasis on conversion or cognitive renewal to see the world from God’s vantage point. In today’s passage, the servant claims a right to innocence. His determination to face hardship is uncompromised: “I have set my face like flint, knowing that I will not be put to shame” (Is 50:7). This servant will suffer greatly because his particular call has led to this unique moment to respond. “I have not rebelled, have not turned back” (Is 50:5).
No one is able to defy the goodness of the servant’s response. His right, therefore, is fourfold: the right to suffer for something one believes in; the right to embrace hardship as a direct result of a particular calling in life; the right to continue on a perilous path if called; and the right to hold fast to the conviction of the Lord’s help in time of distress. These “rights” are seldom heard within our society, and when they are, it usually involves a clear benefit like wealth, honor or prestige. Isaiah speaks of the privilege to be of service, regardless of the genuine threat involved.
The responsorial psalm brings with it a similar sentiment from today’s first reading. “I love the Lord,” cries out the psalmist, “because he has heard my voice of supplication” (Ps 116:1). This voice sings of walking in the land of the living, but only because he previously experienced firsthand “the snares of the netherworld” (Ps 116:3). The wisdom of the psalm provides a clue for the well-trained servant of Isaiah: “The Lord keeps the little ones; I was brought low and he saved me” (Ps 116:6). To embrace the psalm’s logic is a key to understanding the maturity of a well-trained servant from the servant oracles. The servant knows, even anticipates, that he will be brought low. But Isaiah’s servant also anticipates that God will save him. Holding on to both is a sign of spiritual maturity. It seems that the “little ones” are not so naïve but quite wise.
By the time one hears the Gospel proclaimed, the attentive person of faith has been made ready by the earlier Mass readings to consider with Peter what Jesus’ first passion prediction means for discipleship. “He began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer greatly” (Mk 8:31). Peter’s display of apprehension for any kind of suffering for his messiah reveals his lack of spiritual wisdom. He has a long path ahead in order to grow into a maturity that is able to hold in tension the suffering of Christ with its saving power. “You are thinking,” says Jesus, “not as God does, but as human beings do” (Mk 8:33).
This powerful scene of theological depth involving the first passion prediction for Jesus takes place in a unique setting. The conversation, says the text, took place near the villages around Caesarea Philippi. Here existed a renowned site of sacrifice and pilgrimage to the god of Pan, a deity of nature that promised new birth and life to faithful worshipers. It is in this setting that Jesus begins to teach the path of a well-trained disciple of Christ, and not of Pan.
“Whoever wishes to come after me,” Jesus says to the crowd just summoned, “must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me” (Mk 8:34). Those who will save their precious life must be willing to risk it completely. It is a lesson that makes sense only for the well-trained servant. May we all mature in our faith, regardless of what lies ahead.