Isaiah 53: word-study translation and thoughts

The entire chapter 52 is centered around the redemption of Zion/Israel from a state of ruin. Zion has been desolated, presumably by gentile dominance. Israel is so tortured and distorted that they are unrecognizable on a par with the nations that dominate them. And yet, ironically, (and this is Isaiah's message), despite Israel's state of humiliation, they will yet serve as a light and salvation for the gentiles.
(52:10)
The LORD will bare His holy arm
In the sight of all the nations,
And the very ends of earth shall see
The victory of our God.
But it is not Israel that is the light, but rather God. It is HIS arm and HIS victory that are celebrated in verse 10. And so it is the miracle of salvation itself that will move the gentiles to amazement.

"Here is a message so surprising that people will not be inclined to believe it. Can you believe on whom God has done this miracle?" Who are 'we'? From the end of chapter 52, the kings of the gentiles. (52:15) Just so he shall startle [sprinkle] many nations. Kings shall be silenced because of him, For they shall see what has not been told them, Shall behold what they never have heard.” (53:1) “Who can believe what we have heard? Upon whom has the arm of the LORD been revealed? Hence, "Who would have thought that God could have redeemed Zion and restored Israel after they were so desolate for so long?" ..... With regard to perspective, which is continually challenging in Isaiah, I will assume, as happens in dreams, that identities can merge, overlap, or even morph. Who is עבדי 'my servant'? Must it be a single person or a single group? I prefer to view Isaiah's writings as descriptions of possibilities, as patterns that have multiple fulfilments in different eras of history. To quibble if it is one thing or another, when in fact multiple scenarios seem plausible, is perhaps to miss the point of Isaiah's imagery.

"Someone will arise who is so run-of-the-mill, so inconsequential in background and appearance that we will not notice him." (52:14) Just as the many were appalled at him [you]— So marred was his appearance, unlike that of man, [his] form, beyond human semblance. I have come to see prophecy not simply as future events, but perhaps more often than not, as patterns that will be useful for understanding various times in history, various times in both the past and the future. We see the beginnings of a pattern here, that an anonymous figure takes root and begins to grow without anyone taking notice. Is it a man? [Moses? Jesus?] Is it a nation? [Israel?] Is it a group? [the marginalized?] As a pattern, it can be any or all of these. And so it behooves us to consider the possibilities in every age and circumstance. Who will these figures be? What will God do with this figure? How can we stand with God in the process?

Trans. mine [He was despised and rejected by men-- a man of anguish and knowing sickness. As one hiding his face from us, he was despised and we did not value him.] The unknown figure is a man (or group) who is well worn in the ways of suffering, pain, and sickness. As we so often do in society, we look down on the sufferers, the marginal, the low class, the outcasts. He is ashamed. He looks away. We look the other way. He is nothing to us. He is loathsome. He is other, the undocumented, the infected, the indigent, the anonymous, perhaps homeless, perhaps languishing in prison or other institution, perhaps working tirelessly and fruitlessly in a far away field, never seeing the benefits of his work, always suffering from lack.

Trans. mine [Yet surely our sicknesses he was carrying. Our pains he was bearing. And we thought of him as smitten, stricken by God and humiliated.] The injustice of the indignity is ironic. We think of him as being punished and rejected by God, but this is not so. The suffering he bears is "ours." It is "our" pain and "our" ailments that he carries. ("Our" refers to the kings of the gentiles, to the powerful, to the rulers in society, to the oppressors who in this chapter are coming to a state of enlightenment.] "We thought it was God who was punishing him, but now we see our own hand in his oppression." By the end of the chapter, we see him (עבדי 'my servant') in a struggle to the death on behalf of the rebellious (the gentiles? the oppressors? people in general?). From another angle, we might be seeing the trauma of the human condition, focused downward in a chain from oppressor to oppressed, who in turn oppresses, and so on in a chain reaction. At the bottom of this chain, we find the children, we find women, we find immigrants, we find slaves, we find all manner of people in bondage. Our collective traumas are re-enacted on the vulnerable. Our humiliations are transferred downward to those under our influence. Our shame is projected onto the vulnerable around us. Our hurt fills those we injure. Our vulnerabilities are played out as violence against others. The distortions in our perceptions are conveyed onto and into others. The abused become abusers. The fearful become fearmongers. The humiliated shame others. The shamed become the arrogant. The threatened turn and threaten. Where will the cycle stop? Perhaps it is the unknown figure, the one at the bottom of the pecking order. He accumulates all the suffering until he is brought down to death or to face death, and in so doing rises to advocate for the rebellious, for the arrogant, for the fearmongers, for the abusers. So where can we stand in this process? (See vs. 12.) Perhaps through our empathy and our compassion, we might experience the pains of the vulnerable and the suffering. And in so experiencing pain that is not our own, being afflicted in our own soul for the pains of others, sorrowing for the afflictions of others as if our own, facing opposition, some even as martyrs, we can advocate for those who have been traumatized and wounded. We can advocate to stop the cycles of institutionalized abuse. We can advocate for the abusers and help them come to peace.

Trans. mine [And he was pierced for our rebellion; he was crushed for our turning aside. The punishment for our perfection was upon him, and in his wounds there is healing for us] The theme in this pair of couplets centers on the process of 'our' (the gentile kings'? the oppressors') reconciliation with that which is good, and that such process does not come without a price or toll suffered by the anonymous suffering servant who is the protagonist of the entire chapter. As such, I would disagree that שלום refers to PEACE per se, but rather to the more fundamental meaning of completeness, which I have rendered in the latinate term PERFECTION (perficere = to finish or to complete). This sense is more solidly justified by the immediate context of the couplet in which it resides, as well as the pair of couplets that work together in tandem. There are four injuries: piercing, crushing, punishing, and wounding or bruising. These injuries come about from "our" straying, and these injuries also facilitate "our" reconciliation. By them, "we" are made whole and healed. The gentiles, the oppressors, the sick of soul are reconciled to God through the suffering of this figure.

Beautiful verse... Trans mine [by coercion and by judgment he was taken away; who could imagine his habitation? because he was cut off from the land of life. by the sin of my people (was) his affliction]
Chiasm:
A. CAUSES: coercion and judgment
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• RESULT: taken away
  
  

B. CLIMAX: Who could imagine his dwelling / living?

• RESULT: cut off
  
  

A. CAUSES: sin and affliction
By analyzing the chiasm here, we find a parallel between him being taken away and him being afflicted, both for unjust cause: the coercive justice is thus equated with the sin of "my" people (the oppressors). Unjust society makes use of the legal system to deprive the marginal of their lands, possessions, even family. The inner lines of the chiasm speak of him being deprived of his rightful place and belonging. His דור (generation) is properly derived from his cycles of life, potentially his people, his dwelling places, his tribe, the generations before and generations to follow. He has been deprived of these and left without even a trace of belonging that one could imagine, consider, think about, ponder. The land of life, the land of his living, the land where he lived out the cycles of his life, he is cut off from this. This dispossession is now his affliction, which was caused by the sinful misapplication of justice which has coerced him off his land and out of his cycles of life. The image of the cycles of life (דור) and the land of life (ארץ חיים) beautifully complement one another. There is also beauty in the sound of this verse as well. Following the structure of the chiasm, mishpat (justice) in the first line is alliterated with mipesha' (from/by sin) in the last line, which are also conceptually equated in the sense of the miscarriage of justice. And in the final line of the chiasm, it seems poetically plausible that Isaiah uses למו instead of the more usual לו (to him or his) in order to solidify the causality between 'the sin of my people' and 'his infliction' through alliteration and contrast in the final syllables (i.e., ami vs. -amo): mi-pesha ami (by the sin of my people) vs. nega lamo ([was] his affliction)

Trans. mine [Therefore, I shall apportion to him the many. The multitude he shall apportion (as) spoil Because he exposed his soul unto death. With the rebellious he was numbered. And he carried the sin of many. And on behalf of / to the rebellious, he pled.] His struggle on behalf of the rebellious will lead him to suffer death, in the which, he will likewise be considered one of the rebellious. In the end, he will gain as his spoil the multitude of the gentiles.
On further reflection, I see César Chávez on hunger strike, advocating for the invisible Mexican workers in the fields, dispossessed, oppressed in their wages and living conditions. He was vilified by the wealthy and powerful. He eventually gave his life, dying early from the strain of his struggles and hunger strikes. And in his death, left a legacy of uplifting the oppressed, viewed by the land owners and oppressors as a villain, but by the masses, a hero. His spiritual legacy, his inheritance, his spoil, are the many thousands of people who have benefited from his struggles and continue to reap the rewards of his life.
It is odd, but in this example, César Chávez was trying to bring about justice by convincing the wrong-doers and oppressors to be more generous, more just in their compensation to the workers, to treat the Mexican and Mexican-American workers fairly. For whom was Chávez really making intercession? He interceded on behalf of both sides, on behalf of the workers who were oppressed, as well as on behalf of the land owners who were struggling to see the light. He was not there to punish or destroy anyone. He interceded to bring understanding and social justice. He interceded and brought peace among those he advocated for, trying to quell their anger and channel it into social action rather than revenge. He brought his plea TO the rebellious, the oppressors.
Final thoughts...
Though this has not been an exhaustive study of the entire chapter, I find in the imagery of the chapter a foreshadowing of the fate of social justice warriors everywhere and in all times. I see a template for myself to follow, to carry burdens and bear sorrows and sickness of others, to decry the corruption and evil in the world, even at my own peril, to allow myself to be vilified, numbered with the wicked by the powerful, to intercede, educate and advocate, and ultimately to leave a legacy of uplift. My reward, my inheritance will not be the prizes of the kingdoms of the wealthy, but rather the prize of seeing humanity itself lifted and brought into harmony.