Week 1 Tuesday - That First Easter... I Was There
Day 2: The Prophet’s Voice
Day 2: The Prophet’s Voice
Isaiah 53:1-6
Introduction
The prophets saw it coming.
Seven hundred years before the first Easter, Isaiah stood before the people of Israel and described a Messiah no one wanted to hear about. Not a warrior-king riding a warhorse. Not a political revolutionary overthrowing Rome. A suffering servant. Despised and rejected. A man of sorrows, acquainted with grief. Someone so broken and beaten that people would turn their faces away.
The people heard the prophecy. They memorized it. They copied it onto scrolls and read it in the synagogues. But they didn’t believe it. Not really. Because the Messiah they wanted — the one they’d been imagining for generations — looked nothing like the one Isaiah described. So they did what we all do when confronted with uncomfortable truth: they ignored the parts that didn’t fit their expectations and doubled down on the parts that did.
He will restore the kingdom!
He will defeat our enemies!
He will make Israel great again!
But Isaiah kept saying: He will be pierced for our transgressions. Crushed for our iniquities. By His wounds we will be healed. And they kept not hearing it. Because suffering doesn’t sell. Brokenness doesn’t inspire. Sacrifice doesn’t rally the troops.
The prophets told them exactly what kind of Messiah was coming. They just didn’t want to hear it.
We do the same thing.
Scripture
¹ Who has believed our message and to whom has the arm of the LORD been revealed? ² He grew up before him like a tender shoot, and like a root out of dry ground. He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. ³ He was despised and rejected by mankind, a man of suffering, and familiar with pain. Like one from whom people hide their faces he was despised, and we held him in low esteem.
⁴ Surely he took up our pain and bore our suffering, yet we considered him punished by God, stricken by him, and afflicted. ⁵ But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed. ⁶ We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all.
— Isaiah 53:1-6 (NIV)
Reflection
The Uncomfortable Prophecy
Isaiah didn’t mince words. The Messiah would have “no beauty or majesty to attract us to him.” He would be “despised and rejected.” People would hide their faces from him. He would be “familiar with pain.”
This wasn’t the job description anyone wanted for their deliverer. Conquering kings don’t get despised. Victorious warriors don’t get rejected. People don’t hide their faces from glorious leaders. But there it was, written in black and white, impossible to miss: Your Messiah is coming, and He will suffer.
The prophecy was clear. The people just didn’t want it to be true. So they did what humans have always done with inconvenient truth — they reinterpreted it. They spiritualized it. They explained it away. Maybe Isaiah was talking about Israel as a nation, not the Messiah specifically. Maybe he was using poetic hyperbole. Maybe the suffering was just a temporary setback before the real victory.
We’re experts at editing God’s Word to fit our preferences.
By the time Jesus arrived — exactly as Isaiah described — the people had constructed an entirely different Messiah in their minds. And when the real one showed up, teaching about dying to live, losing to gain, and taking up crosses to follow Him, they rejected Him. Not because the prophecy was wrong. Because they’d spent centuries ignoring it.
We Are Like Them
“Sometimes the road less traveled is less traveled for a reason.” — Jerry Seinfeld
What truths about Jesus are we ignoring because they’re uncomfortable?
We love the Jesus who heals and provides. We’re less enthusiastic about the Jesus who calls us to die to ourselves daily. We celebrate the Jesus who forgives sins. We’re quieter about the Jesus who tells us to go and sin no more. We post Instagram quotes about the Jesus who promises abundant life. We scroll past the Jesus who says, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me” (Luke 9:23).
We want the benefits of the gospel without the cost of discipleship. We want the crown without the cross. We want resurrection Sunday without crucifixion Friday. We’re happy to accept Jesus as Savior. We’re more hesitant about Jesus as Lord.
Despite what the prosperity gospel sells, there’s no escaping the New Testament reality that following Jesus is costly. Jesus said it would be. He never hid this fact and laid it out plainly to all who might follow Him. The cost involves death to self and total commitment to God. The demand is all-encompassing: relationships, wealth, position, possessions, life itself (Luke 9:57-62, 14:26-33, Matthew 19:16-30). He even said we’d be hated and persecuted because of Him (John 15:18-25).
Jesus actually told His followers to count the cost before committing: “Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple. For which of you, desiring to build a tower, does not first sit down and count the cost, whether he has enough to complete it?” (Luke 14:27-28).
The rich young ruler in Matthew 19 heard this cost clearly. He came to Jesus asking what he must do to inherit eternal life. Jesus told him: sell everything, give to the poor, and follow Me. The man went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions. He wanted eternal life. He just didn’t want it more than his comfort. He heard the uncomfortable truth — and walked away from it.
But here’s what the rich young ruler didn’t see: Jesus loved him. Mark 10:21 says Jesus looked at him and loved him before telling him the cost. The call to surrender everything wasn’t rejection — it was invitation. Jesus wasn’t trying to keep him out. He was trying to bring him all the way in. The cost is high because the prize is priceless: Jesus Himself. Not just His benefits. Not just His blessings. Him.
We must be intentional about not easing the tension between the Kingdom and this world. We must be careful not to rely on consumer-focused strategies that emasculate the demands of discipleship. We must not be afraid of the cost or ashamed of His exclusive claims.
The prophets told us exactly what following Jesus would require. Surrender. Sacrifice. Suffering. Not as the end of the story, but as the middle of it. Not as the final word, but as the pathway to resurrection. Isaiah said it plainly: “By His wounds we are healed.” Not by His success. Not by His political victory. Not by His comfortable, culturally acceptable message. By His wounds.
And if we’re going to follow Him — really follow Him — we’re going to bear wounds too. Because disciples don’t get better treatment than their teacher.
We were there when the prophets spoke uncomfortable truth. We are there now — editing the Bible in our heads, preferring the Jesus we want over the Jesus who is.
Grace Note
“For the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.”
— 1 Corinthians 1:18 (ESV)
The cross didn’t make sense then. It doesn’t make sense now. A suffering Messiah? A crucified King? A God who dies? It’s foolishness to the world. But Paul says it’s the power of God. The very thing we’re tempted to edit out — the suffering, the sacrifice, the cost — is the thing that marks us as His.
And here’s the grace hiding in the hard truth: Jesus knew the cost would be too high for us. That’s why He paid it Himself first. He didn’t ask us to go somewhere He hadn’t already been. He went to the cross before He asked us to take ours up. Every wound He bore, He bore for our healing. Every drop of blood He shed, He shed so we could be saved and experience the fullness of His life.
Don’t run from the uncomfortable truth. Run toward it. It reveals our faith in the power of God — the God who loved us enough to suffer for us, so we could follow Him.
Prayer Prompt
Jesus,
I confess that I want You on my terms. I want the blessings without the surrender. The healing without the dying to self. The crown without the cross. Forgive me for constructing a comfortable Jesus in my mind and rejecting the real You when Your words get too hard.
I find myself complaining about this regularly — reminding You of what following costs me. But then Your Spirit reminds me that You spared no cost to come to me and save me from my sins and self-centeredness. You gave everything. How can I hold anything back?
Help me hear what the prophets said — all of it, not just the parts I like. Help me embrace the uncomfortable truths: that following You will cost me something, that discipleship isn’t easy, that taking up my cross is daily, not optional. Give me the courage to believe what You’ve actually said, not what I wish You’d said.
I’m all in, Lord. Or at least I want to be. Help me mean it. Amen.
Response
1. Read the Whole Prophecy: Take 10 minutes today to slowly read all of Isaiah 53 (not just the verses above). Don’t skip the hard parts. Don’t soften the language. Let the prophet’s words sit with you. Ask yourself: What part of this prophecy am I most tempted to ignore or explain away? Why does it make me uncomfortable?
2. Count the Cost: Jesus said to count the cost before following Him (Luke 14:27-28). So count it. Write down what following Jesus is actually costing you — or what it should cost you but you’re still holding back. Be specific. Relationships? Money? Time? Reputation? Comfort? Security? Then ask: Am I willing to pay this? Or am I, like the rich young ruler, going to walk away sorrowful because I have great possessions?
3. Confess One Edit: Where are you editing Jesus to make Him more palatable? What uncomfortable command are you rationalizing? What hard teaching are you explaining away? Name it. Confess it. Then take one step toward the real Jesus today — the one who calls you to die to yourself, take up your cross, and follow Him. Not because it’s comfortable. Because — This is The Way.
To read all the posts in this devotional series, visit: That First Easter... I Was There
© Steve Peschke / This Is The Way