The Text opened and divided. What the Reed is, and what the Bruising

The prophet Isaiah, lifted up and carried along on the wing of the prophetic spirit, looks past all the time between his own day and the coming of Jesus Christ in the flesh. With the eye of prophecy and the eye of faith he sees Christ as though already present, and presents him, in God's name, to the spiritual sight of others, in these words: "Behold my servant, whom I have chosen..." (Isaiah 43:10). Matthew cites this passage as fulfilled now in Christ (Matthew 12:18). In it, two things are set before us —

First, the calling of Christ to his office.

Second, the carrying out of it.

First, his calling. God calls him here his righteous servant: Christ was God's servant in the greatest service ever undertaken — a chosen, choice servant, who did and suffered everything by commission from the Father. In this we see the sweetness of God's love for us: that he counts the work of our salvation through Christ his greatest work of service, and that he would put his only beloved Son to that task. God does well to begin with "Behold," to lift our thoughts to the highest pitch of attention and wonder. In times of temptation, doubting consciences fix so much on their present trouble that they need to be roused to look to the one in whom their distressed souls can find rest. In temptation, it is safest to look at nothing but Christ — the true bronze serpent, the true Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world (John 1:29). This saving sight brings a special comfort to the soul, especially when we look not only at Christ but at the Father's authority and love standing behind him. For in everything Christ did and suffered as Mediator, we must see God himself, in him, reconciling the world to himself (2 Corinthians 5:19).

What a support to our faith it is that God the Father — the very one offended by our sins — is so well pleased with the work of redemption! And what a comfort it is that, since God's love rests on Christ, we may conclude that he is just as pleased with us, if we are in Christ! For his love rests on the whole Christ — Christ mystical as well as Christ natural — because he loves Christ and us with the very same love. Let us, then, embrace Christ, and in him embrace God's love, and build our faith safely on a Savior furnished with so high a commission.

See here, for our comfort, the sweet agreement of all three persons: the Father gives Christ his commission; the Spirit equips and sets him apart for it; Christ himself carries out the office of Mediator. Our redemption rests on the joint agreement of all three persons of the Trinity.

Second, how this calling was carried out. It is described here as modest — without noise, without the pomp and dust that princes raise when they come. "His voice will not be heard." His voice was indeed heard, but what kind of voice? "Come to me, all who are weary and burdened" (Matthew 11:28). He cried out, but how? "Come, everyone who thirsts" (Isaiah 55:1). And just as his coming was modest, it was also gentle — which is what these words describe: "a bruised reed he will not break." In this we may observe three things —

First, the condition of those Christ had to deal with: they were bruised reeds, and smoldering wicks.

Second, Christ's own conduct toward them: he did not break the bruised reed or put out the smoldering wick — and more is meant here than is said, for he will not merely refrain from breaking or quenching them, but will actually cherish them.

Third, the steadiness and forward movement of this tender care — "until he brings justice through to victory" — that is, until the work of grace begun in their hearts is brought to the point of maturity where it prevails over every corruption that opposes it.

As for the first: the condition of those he came to deal with is that they were bruised reeds and smoldering wicks — not trees, but reeds, and not whole reeds, but bruised ones. The church is repeatedly compared to weak things: a dove among the birds, a vine among the plants, a sheep among the beasts, a woman, who is the weaker vessel. Here God's children are compared to bruised reeds and smoldering wicks. We will speak of them first as bruised reeds, and then as smoldering wicks.

They are bruised reeds before their conversion, and often afterward too. Before conversion, this is true of everyone — except those raised up in the church whom God has delighted to show his grace to from childhood — though in different degrees, as God sees fit, according to differences in temperament, gifts, and manner of life, and according to what God intends to use them for in the future. He usually empties such people of themselves, and brings them to nothing, before he uses them in any great work.

This bruised reed, then, is someone who, for the most part, is in some kind of misery — like those who came to Christ for help — and who, through that misery, is brought to see sin as its cause; for whatever excuses sin makes for itself, bruising or breaking is always where it ends. He feels his sin and misery, even to the point of being bruised by them, and seeing no help in himself, he is carried along by a restless desire for help from another — with just enough hope to lift him out of himself toward Christ, though he does not yet dare claim any present share in mercy. This spark of hope, opposed by doubts and fears rising from his own corruption, makes him like a smoldering wick as well; so that together, a bruised reed and a smoldering wick make up the condition of a poor, distressed person — the kind our Savior calls "poor in spirit" (Matthew 5:3), who sees his own need, sees himself in debt to divine justice with no means of paying it from himself or any other creature, and so mourns — and yet, on some hope of mercy drawn from the promises and examples of those who have obtained it, is stirred up to hunger and thirst after it.