Chapter 53 in Yeshayahu is a direct continuation of the end of the previous chapter. We must remember that the division of chapters is not our traditional division but a Christian one, so we should not take it into account and instead view the text as a single continuum: the nations look upon the lowly people of Israel, see how they become exalted and uplifted, and are astonished. The greatness of their elevation corresponds directly to the depth of their lowliness. The entire chapter describes the nations' astonishment, followed by their disillusionment regarding the entire perception they had held concerning Israel.
מִי הֶאֱמִין לִשְׁמֻעָתֵנוּ וּזְרוֹעַ יְהֹוָה עַל־מִי נִגְלָתָה׃ - Who would have believed our report, and upon whom has the arm of Hashem been revealed?
Rashi explains that the nations of the world will say this in astonishment when they see our state: had we heard from others what we now see with our own eyes, we would not have believed it. "And upon whom has the arm of Hashem been revealed" - upon whom has the arm of Hashem been revealed with such glory and in such a wondrous reality, that a nation we saw so degraded has become so exalted and uplifted? Where have we ever seen such a thing, where the arm of Hashem was revealed and totally overturned the condition of any nation?
Radak adds another explanation, that these words are spoken contemptuously: "Upon whom has it been revealed" - upon this nation? Whom did Hashem come to redeem, who are they anyway? How could it be that Hashem took an interest specifically in this nation, who were so degraded?
The Malbim explains that this verse refers to what was said above, coming to explain why this was not told to them and why they never envisioned such a possibility in the first place. They had two reasons to claim that such a thing was impossible. The first is the report itself: that Hashem would perform such miracles and wonders is not a trivial matter and does not happen constantly. "Who would have believed our report" - who could believe that Hashem would do such a thing? The second reason is: to whom? "And upon whom has the arm of Hashem been revealed" - that Hashem would reveal Himself upon this lowly nation? If Hashem had revealed Himself upon America, Russia, or great superpowers, that would be understandable. But this downtrodden nation, dwelling in the Middle East, perpetually subjected to slings and arrows and attacks, the target of most UN resolutions to this day - specifically upon them the arm of Hashem was revealed? This is why it was so far from their minds: it seemed implausible that Hashem would perform miracles, and even if He did, certainly not for this nation.
וַיַּעַל כַּיּוֹנֵק לְפָנָיו וְכַשֹּׁרֶשׁ מֵאֶרֶץ צִיָּה לֹא־תֹאַר לוֹ וְלֹא הָדָר וְנִרְאֵהוּ וְלֹא־מַרְאֶה וְנֶחְמְדֵהוּ׃ - And he grew up before Him like a tender sapling and like a root from an arid land; he had neither form nor beauty, and when we saw him, there was no appearance that we should desire him.
This nation, which had been so degraded, grew up like a sapling from a tree, like a plant that grows, develops, and climbs. "And like a root from an arid land" - an arid land denotes a dry place, a desert, and suddenly this root sprouted and grew. "He had neither form nor beauty" - as we have seen, the form of the Jewish people was marred beyond human likeness, possessing neither form nor grandeur. "And when we saw him, there was no appearance" - when we looked at them initially, we saw they lacked any discernible form. "That we should desire him"? Could it be conceived that we would desire them, envy them, or be impressed by them? They were not an object of envy; no one envied them at all.
The Malbim explains that here the nation's lowliness is depicted through the parable of a tree. Sometimes a tree is strong in its own right - a mature tree with a massive trunk and immense strength that developed over a long period. Other times, even a tender sapling can be strong. How? By having taken root near water, in fertile soil; then, even though it is at the beginning of its growth, its environmental conditions are excellent and it is strong. But our sapling has neither: "And he grew up like a tender sapling" - the very beginning of a planting, tender, weak, and small, like a nursing infant just starting out. And if you should say that at least it took root in a good place - "and like a root from an arid land," it was planted in a parched place, unfertilized, a place unsuited for growth. It has no merit that could explain its strength, neither in itself nor in the place where it was planted.
And what is the nimshal? The Malbim explains: a nation can be mighty in its own right if it is vast, great, and populous; or by virtue of its roots, if it has been established and ruling for many centuries, in which case, even if it is currently weak, it retains imperial prestige from its eras of power. But Israel possesses neither advantage: not in their own right, for they are few in number; and if you would point to their roots, suggesting that perhaps at their origin they were an empire ruling over many nations - historically, that was not the case either. Our origin is a small and vulnerable nation, six hundred thousand men who departed from Egypt, and where did they take root? "And like a root from an arid land" - in the desert. And from that time onward, says the Malbim, no star arose from Yaakov; we never saw the people of Israel with vast, overwhelming dominance. True, there was a period during the reign of Shlomo, but it was brief and did not change the fundamental nature of the nation. In simple terms: Israel possesses no power in their own right as a populous nation, nor do they possess power from their historical roots.
"He has no form nor comeliness." Sometimes a tender plant is valued at least for its beauty. "Form" (to'ar) refers to the exterior, the outline of its frame being graceful and pleasing - the tree is straight, its branches spread out in order. One can draw a tree with a single outline, without color, and see a handsome tree - it has form. On the other hand, one can see a tree whose branches are broken, some fallen, and the tree is leaning, having no form even in its outer contour. The Jewish people at their origin had no form. Sometimes a plant possesses "comeliness" (hadar), an appearance and color that hold charm; even if its growth pattern is unappealing, at least its color is pleasing. There are fruits whose color or shape is very beautiful yet they are devoid of flavor, like the star fruit (carambola) which when sliced yields attractive decorative stars, but tastes sour; conversely, there are fruits that are not attractive at all yet are delicious and sweet. Scripture says: this tender shoot has no comeliness either; it has no attractive color to catch the eye.
And the analogy: sometimes a small nation can nevertheless succeed in achieving sovereignty, because within it are wise-hearted individuals and wealthy merchants. Yet even this was lacking - "no form nor comeliness." Regarding valor, it has already been said that we have none; regarding roots, it was already stated that we began in an arid land and not with great might. And if you might say that at least we are compact and concentrated, possessing extraordinary sages, craftsmen, merchants, and wealthy men - this too was not so. Not only that, but "when we see him, there is no beauty" - we could not attribute any distinguished appearance to him, for he was more degraded than all and the most despised of all peoples. If so, "that we should desire him"? How could we desire him so as to recognize his reign, perceive his beauty, and appreciate him? This magnifies the wonder: how could it be that we would desire a nation that embodies all these deficiencies?
נִבְזֶה וַחֲדַל אִישִׁים אִישׁ מַכְאֹבוֹת וִידוּעַ חֹלִי וּכְמַסְתֵּר פָּנִים מִמֶּנּוּ נִבְזֶה וְלֹא חֲשַׁבְנֻהוּ׃ - Despised and forsaken of men, a man of pains and acquainted with illness, and as one from whom people hide their faces; he was despised, and we held him of no account.
The Radak explains: not only did we not desire him, but he was furthermore despised in our eyes. There are things about which a person says, "It is nice, but I do not want it," yet he does not actively oppose it; and there are things so contemptible that if offered to him, he will outright reject them, saying, "I have no interest, it is contemptible in my eyes." So was Israel in their eyes: "despised and forsaken of men." What is "forsaken of men" (chadal ishim)? The lowliest of human beings. Others explain that distinguished men would not associate with him and he was separated from them - ceased from all contact with men of standing, for due to his extreme degradation, no one desired his company. "A man of pains and acquainted with illness" - this refers to the anguish of exile, while "acquainted with illness" means he has chronic, well-known ailments. "And as one from whom people hide their faces" - we acted like those who hide their faces from him; we refused even to look upon him because he was so despised in our eyes and we utterly abhorred him.
The Malbim adds a sharp insight: until now, the prophet portrayed the absence of all virtues - like a tender plant, like a root out of dry ground, no form and no comeliness - everything defined negatively, by what he lacks. From here onward, he begins to depict the positive flaws themselves: it is not merely that he lacks virtue, but that he is full of defects. "Despised" - in terms of his soul's character, his traits and his moral standing. "Forsaken of men" - in the very nature of his physical constitution, which does not resemble human beings at all, not even bearing the form of an animal. Nevertheless, there are people who possess neither natural nor spiritual virtues, but are at least healthy - which is itself an advantage. Here, however, he is "a man of pains and acquainted with illness": pains, for everyone strikes him with cruel blows; and acquainted with illness, having sicknesses deeply rooted in him from the time of his creation.
"And as one from whom people hide their faces" - human nature dictates that if a person is so wretched, plunged into so much suffering, we should at least pity him. Here, however, that was not the case: everyone hid their faces from him because he was so despised and repulsive in their eyes. Could one suggest that they hid their faces out of compassion, since at times a person sees someone suffering and cannot bear to look out of sheer pity, preferring to turn away? To this, the Malbim responds: do not attempt to paint this in rosy colors, for that was not the case. As the verse concludes, "he was despised, and we held him of no account" - we felt none of his pain and gave no regard to his anguish, for he was utterly despised in our eyes. And behold, it is precisely this nation that attains such an exalted status: "Who would have believed our report, and upon whom has the arm of Hashem been revealed?" - upon one who possesses so many deficiencies and lacks so many virtues, how could it be that Hashem would reveal Himself upon him of all nations?
אָכֵן חֳלָיֵנוּ הוּא נָשָׂא וּמַכְאֹבֵינוּ סְבָלָם וַאֲנַחְנוּ חֲשַׁבְנֻהוּ נָגוּעַ מֻכֵּה אֱלֹהִים וּמְעֻנֶּה׃ - Surely he bore our illnesses and carried our pains; yet we considered him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted.
"Surely" - now we realize that all the suffering he endured was not due to his lowliness or his diminished status resulting from his own sins. Rather, "he bore our illnesses": what we were supposed to receive, he received; the suffering we should have borne, he carried. "Yet we considered him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted" - we assumed that all his afflictions came upon him because he was abhorred before the Omnipresent. But that was not so, as will be clarified in the following verse: "He was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities." "Wounded" (mecholal) stems from the root for illness (choli), meaning that it was on account of our own willful sins, the nations will confess, and his suffering was due to our iniquities.
As is well known, Christianity seized heavily upon this notion, claiming that the exile and suffering of the Jewish people serve as a sign and proof that God rejected them, casting them off and abandoning them to be trampled and plundered. In their theology, the more they tread upon them and plunder them, the more they fulfill the divine will, proving that this people is loathsome and cast out by God. In their view, our punishment for rebelling against God was that we should suffer, and that God replaced us with another nation, with Christianity. This is their distorted conception, and later in the chapter we will see their sobering awakening, when they reach the realization that what we suffered was in truth on account of their own sins.
The Radak and the Malbim struggle intensely with this interpretation. The Radak asks: did not the prophet Yechezkel write that a son shall not bear the iniquity of the father, nor shall a father bear the iniquity of the son, and how much more so one individual for another, and all the more so one nation for another nation? If so, where have we ever heard of such a concept, that they should sin while "he bore our illnesses" - that the Jewish people should suffer for the sins of the gentiles and bear their pains? And if you might argue that there is an explicit verse in Eichah, "Our fathers sinned and are no more, and we have borne their iniquities," showing clearly that one bears the sin of another - this is not comparable, answers the Radak. There it refers to God visiting the iniquity of fathers upon children when the children cling to the evil deeds of their fathers. When you persist in the actions of your father, everything is counted against you, even back three generations. According to the teachings of the holy Ari, this is even more readily understood, for the child is essentially the reincarnation (gilgul) of the sinning forebear's soul. Here, however, we are speaking of one nation bearing the iniquity of an entirely different nation - how could such a notion even be conceived?
Radak takes one consistent approach: the nations truly spoke foolishness, but what can one do - a person speaking out of grief and weeping also speaks nonsense. These words are uttered in the language of those wailing in their sorrow, and their words are neither measured nor reasoned. When a person speaks from anguish and tears, do not expect logic or rational thinking from him. And as for what the nations will say, "he bore our sicknesses": they will imagine that all the Jewish people suffered was on account of our sins. That is how they will think and reason according to their logic - why is the people of Israel suffering? Not because of their sin, for we see they remained clinging to faith in Hashem and still believe in Him. And if so, how is it possible that they, the believers in Hashem, suffer, while we, the infidel nations, are at peace? From this, the nations concluded of necessity: if the believer suffers while the denier is at peace, the believer must surely be enduring the suffering destined for the denier, and whatever the denier should have received, the believer received instead. But this is a very shallow interpretation of reality, a subjective reading by the nations; they view things this way, yet according to Radak, there is no real substance to it.
Malbim also confronts this same difficulty, but his explanation is different. The nations attributed two maladies to Israel. As is well known, Israel has always been crushed and rejected among the nations, who treated them like dung upon the face of the earth, blaming the Jews for every sickness, every harm, and every plague - anything imaginable. The first malady was an internal illness, meaning a psychological and spiritual one: as Malbim explains, it was claimed that their souls were sick and unfit to receive any good quality or perfection, neither human virtues, nor scientific study, nor moral character traits. In simple terms: mentally and spiritually, an utterly degenerate people. And one must realize that in certain periods Israel's spiritual state was indeed very low, resulting from what the nations did to them: they barred the Jewish people from studying and deprived them of many things, which brought about this depressed mental and spiritual state. Therefore, they also denied them any position of authority, any role, or any dignified office, claiming that their souls were diseased and that they could neither acquire upright virtues nor master enlightened, in-depth learning.
Yet now, in the wake of the redemption, what will they see? That this malady is not an inherent part of our essence, but was caused by poverty, degradation, the nations' relentless persecution, and the distress the gentiles inflicted upon us. As we recite in the Haggadah: "'The Egyptians dealt evilly with us and afflicted us' - 'dealt evilly with us' means they made us evil." If we sank to a degraded state, it was because the Egyptians corrupted our condition and brought us down to a low and degraded level.
וְהוּא מְחֹלָל מִפְּשָׁעֵנוּ מְדֻכָּא מֵעֲוֺנֹתֵינוּ מוּסַר שְׁלוֹמֵנוּ עָלָיו וּבַחֲבֻרָתוֹ נִרְפָּא־לָנוּ׃ - "Yet he was pierced for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; the chastisement for our peace was upon him, and through his wounds we are healed."
According to Malbim, if you see the people of Israel in a degraded state in terms of internal sickness, spiritual disease - that is "for our transgressions," from what we transgressed against them. And if we see them crushed by external suffering and torment, afflicted - that is "for our iniquities."
And what is the difference between *pesha* (transgression) and *avon* (iniquity)? Malbim maintains a consistent principle throughout Tanach: *avon* always stems from an intellectual distortion, from the root meaning crooked or perverted (*me'uvat*). In contrast, *pesha* arises from a person rising up in rebellion. The distinction here is not the standard one between *chet* and *avon* as unintentional versus intentional, but rather that *pesha* refers to one who willfully rebels against the Master of the World and sins rebelliously against Him; even though he knows Hashem is truth, he rises up to rebel against Him, and is called a *poshe'a*. One who commits an *avon*, however, means that his intellect is distorted, leading him to think there is no truth in the holy Torah and that truth lies elsewhere.
And so: when the people of Israel were crushed, when the nations tortured and afflicted them with agonizing pains, through inquisitions, persecutions, and crucifixions - all this stemmed from the *avon* of the nations, that is, from intellectual distortion. The gentile who tormented the Jews was convinced that he was doing the right thing. All those priests of Isabella and Ferdinand, and everyone who encouraged the torture and torment of the Jews, held the premise that the Jews refused to accept the true faith, and that is why they were in the wretched state they were in and suffered as they did; on the contrary, they believed they had to help them and turn them into good Christians as well. This is the mentality of intellectual distortion: convinced that the truth is his, he feels compelled to Christianize us too and turn us into believers in his religion. Nor was this unique to the Spanish Expulsion; looking back at earlier generations, one finds the very same mindset with Nebuchadnezzar: anyone who does not bow down to the golden image when the symphony plays, his sentence is death. It is the exact same notion, born of a distorted mind: since this is the true god to which one must adhere, anyone who fails to do so will be killed, because he did not embrace the truth. There is an intellectual perversion here, convincing himself that he is doing us good: "After all, you, the Jew, are suffering, and why are you suffering? Because you are not in the right religion. Come join the true faith, and see how happy and blessed we are."
However, the internal sickness - the humiliation of Israel across the generations, denying them education, office, and influence - was not done at all out of a belief that they were doing us good, but out of sheer malice of soul, and that is called *pesha*, rebellion. Therefore, "yet he was pierced for our transgressions (*mipesha'einu*)" - the internal sickness was inflicted out of malice, through rebellion and willful wickedness; "crushed for our iniquities (*me'avonoteinu*)" - what they persecuted, struck, massacred, and murdered among us over the generations was done, as it were, out of "good intentions," that we might become like them. Thus it stemmed from *avon*, from intellectual distortion, since they believed their path was the truth and that they had to draw us into it.
"The chastisement for our peace was upon him" - whenever the nations enjoyed peace, they would afflict us, because they were certain that by our being tormented, their peace and tranquility would continue. And whenever strict justice struck them and they experienced suffering, they were convinced that they had evidently grown lax in tormenting the Jewish people. This was their mindset: we have not afflicted Israel enough, and therefore we are now suffering under decrees. They considered it a religious duty, understanding that "the chastisement for our peace was upon him" - the more we chastise them, the greater our peace will be, for we are executing the Divine will, and the Divine will is to afflict and chastise the people of Israel for forsaking Hashem, for rejecting the Beis HaMikdash, and for worshiping idols.
On the contrary, they even think that "with his wound we are healed": let us inflict a wound and a bruise upon them, and healing will come to us. Beat the Jew and save Europe. Beat the Chareidi and save the State of Israel. The slogans have changed slightly, but it is the exact same thing: all troubles are because of the Jew; the Jew is the source of all diseases, all troubles, and all disasters; and if only there were an "equal share of the burden" and they would enlist, you would see a Switzerland of the Middle East and everything would change. Thus they said: Do we have problems? Let us add a few more blows to the Jew, and then healing will come to us and we will suffer no afflictions. So thinks the gentile, who is confident that he is performing a righteous deed by tormenting the Jewish people, and is even certain he will be rewarded for doing so.
The chapter opens with the astonishment of the nations: "Who would have believed what we heard?" - no one could have imagined that Hashem would perform miracles, certainly not for this lowly nation. In the parable of the sapling and the root from arid land, the nation's lowliness is portrayed: it possesses no strength of its own as a populous nation, it has no imperial roots, it possesses neither form nor majesty, having neither wise men nor wealthy leaders to steer it successfully toward kingship. Not only was it devoid of all virtues, but all flaws were cast upon it - despised in spirit, physically rejected by men, a man of pains and accustomed to illness, evoking not even compassion, for "he was despised and we held him of no account." In the future to come, the nations will sober up and realize that "it was our sickness that he bore": the internal illness that clung to Israel stemmed from our transgressions, from the malice of the nations who humiliated them; and the external oppression stemmed from our iniquities, from a distorted mindset that believed afflicting the Jew benefited him and fulfilled God's will, and therefore "the chastisement for our well-being was upon him, and with his wound we are healed" - until it is ultimately revealed that the exact opposite is true.