So who is he?

One of the strong governmental aspects of Israel was that the Priesthood was separate from the King. Each had their own realm to operate in and with a clear delineation it reduced the possibility for abuse and despotic tendencies. To have such concepts operating at that time in history is in itself a testimony to the far-sighted and revelatory nature of Torah (as well as a deep understanding of human nature). Peculiar then, that the prophet Jeremiah (30:21ff) should mention a leader, indeed a prince of Israel who would seem to ‘overstep the mark’. This Prince, who is ‘one of us’ will ‘draw near’ and ‘approach’ the Lord, as one who has ‘pledged his heart’ or literally ‘has been surety for his heart’ (elsewhere translated as ‘boldness to approach’ and ‘engaged his heart to approach’ Soncino Commentary ‘Jeremiah’). This prince, not a priest, is described in priestly fashion as having the same (or more) level of intimacy¬† as the High Priest. Yet as a prince, a ‘secular’ authority, he was forbidden to draw that close. The Targumim discuss this and draw reference of course to Mashiach, the commentators adding that ‘this verse is of uncertain meaning’, given the potentially ‘dangerous’ content.

The commentary concludes about this prince (quoting Pickering ‘Jeremiah’) that ‘G-d Himself, who has taken the ruler into closest relations is the guarantor of this ideal ruler’s character and excellence. Accordingly the answer to the question (‘for who is he?’) is none other than G-d.’ Only G-d can so intimately draw close to Himself as is inferred by this passage, only He can have such boldness to approach. The result of such a drawing close according to the passage will be that we shall finally and completely ‘become His people’ and ‘He will be our G-d’.

So who do you think He is?

You will seek me and find me.

The prophets of Israel had a demanding and often challenging job. The ones who were willing to compromise and predict a glorious future alone, merely by dint of national election and promise, had a much easier life. For them no death threats or an angry mob. But for the ones truly sent by the Lord and who were unwilling to massage the aching consciences of the populace with delusional balm, life was ‘complicated’. Yet in the middle of often stern warnings against idolatry and the exilic consequences, the voice of the Lord was to be heard offering hope and redemption. Never willing to see us ruined, dashed on the rocks of history and empires, our G-d held out a Hand of love and an invitation that under pressure we should not recoil from Him but seek Him. His promise to be found stands as one of the great promises of Scripture, IF we seek Him with all our hearts.

Odd then, that so many of our commentators and theologians down the ages have chosen to focus on the element of the suffering of the Jewish people either bringing us to the point of deserving redemption, or even that suffering in and of itself purges us of sin, so allowing us to enter His presence and ‘find’ Him. One might, in the light of fairly recent history, ask the question of just how much suffering we need to endure. But is this true? Does the Torah teach that the suffering of Israel atones for sin (and whose sin)? The statements of our rabbis in reality stand in direct opposition to what seems on the surface an open and shut case of the function of sacrifices in Torah: Lev 17:11 makes it absolutely clear that it is blood alone that can atone for sin, not suffering. And even if Isaiah 53 is taken to mean (as so many rabbis insist) that Israel is the suffering servant, such vicarious suffering is FOR others, never for your own sin. Even in the sacrificial set-up in the Temple, the animals didn’t die or ‘suffer’ for their own sins, only as replacements for others’ judgement and punishment. So such suffering, if true, would only be to impart redemption and forgiveness for others, presumably the nations, although of course no such developed theology exists within Judaism.

To claim that our suffering pays the price for, atones for our own sins flies in the face of sacrificial reality. Vicarious, substitutionary sacrifice however is a basis of freedom from sin. And as we know, the Torah is absolutely clear that G-d alone is our salvation so He must be able, willing and powerful enough to take upon Himself that role as the real vicarious sacrifice for our sins, shedding blood in the process. The true Servant of Isaiah 53 is not Israel but must take us back to the One who did suffer because of our sins: Yeshua Mashichaynu. No one can ‘earn’ or merit salvation, no matter how much suffering they go through. Despite what has been taught in other forms of Judaism the offer of redemption, forgiveness and salvation is based on G-d’s mercy alone and His ability to provide the sacrifice sufficient for our iniquities. We don’t ‘earn’ our G-d or His presence; He chose us although we are as corrupted as any other nation, people or human being. We certainly don’t deserve to inherit His salvation, redemption and forgiveness, if so, show me the one person who ever did.

Let us abandon the merit-driven theology that would seek to change the formula from the prophets to ”if you are righteous enough I will find you’ says the Lord”. We are told to seek HIM and we will find Him, if we seek with an undivided heart. What we will find is His mercy, His sacrifice waiting to be applied.