Fear not, you worm Jacob, you men of Israel! I am the one who helps you, declares the LORD; your Redeemer is the Holy One of Israel. (Isaiah 41.14)
I love this passage. It is nestled in the midst of the prophet Isaiah’s grand trumpeting of God’s faithfulness in providing salvation for his people.
God reminds his people that they are insignificant, weak, and helpless. But at the same time that they have a glorious, powerful, eternally significant redeemer who is none other than the Holy One of Israel.
This is just such good Christ-centered balance. The proper perspective for understanding the greatness of our Redeemer is to understand something of the helplessness of the one who needs such redemption. The fact that our God has made everything and does now sustain everything serves to remind my forgetful heart of his timeless power and priority to exalt his own greatness. Somehow as a worm I fit into this grand plan!
As believers our Savior is indeed the Holy One of Israel. The Lord Jesus Christ has ransomed his people, he is the one who helps his people. But this help was not without cost. We know of course that it was this Holy One of Israel who descended even unto earth, took on flesh, and lived among rebels. And ultimately in his death he was ultimately treated as a worm, as one who is insignificant and valueless. But it was here that he was saving helpless people and showing his value! He resolutely marched to Calvary’s crest to bear our shame. His cheeks took the blows, his bear the phlegm of the angry mob, and his naked body was the subject of laughter and scorn. However, it was the thundering cannons of divine wrath that consumed him. The Savior did come to redeem. And the object of his redemption was a helpless insignificant worm like me.
I am so often plagued by short term gospel memory issues. Today I need a fresh reminder that I am a worm. But I am a worm with a Redeemer. And this Redeemer is the holy one of Israel.
Alas! and did my Saviour bleed, and did my Sovereign die?
Would He devote that sacred head for such a worm as I?Was it for crimes that I had done He groaned upon the tree?
Amazing pity! grace unknown! and love beyond degree!Well might the sun in darkness hide, and shut His glories in,
When Christ, the Mighty maker, died for man, the creature’s sins.Thy body slain, sweet Jesus, Thine – and bathed in its own blood –
While the firm mark of Wrath Divine His soul in anguish stood.Thus might I hide my blushing face while his dear Cross appears;
Dissolved my heart in thankfulness, and melt mine eyes to tears.But drops of grief can ne’er repay the debt of love I woe;
Here, Lord, I give myself away- ’til all that I can do. (Isaac Watts)
