Study Desk

"Far-flung ocean islands see it and panic. The ends of the earth are shaken. Fearfully they huddle together. They try to help each other out, making up stories in the dark. The godmakers in the workshops go into overtime production, crafting new models of no-gods, Urging one another on—‘Good job!' ‘Great design!'— pounding in nails at the base so that the things won't tip over.

"Set out your case for your gods," says God . "Bring your evidence," says the King of Jacob. "Take the stand on behalf of your idols, offer arguments, assemble reasons. Spread out the facts before us so that we can assess them ourselves. Ask them, ‘If you are gods, explain what the past means— or, failing that, tell us what will happen in the future. Can't do that? How about doing something—anything! Good or bad—whatever. Can you hurt us or help us? Do we need to be afraid?' They say nothing, because they are nothing— sham gods, no-gods, fool-making gods.

Get the blind and deaf out here and ready— the blind (though there's nothing wrong with their eyes) and the deaf (though there's nothing wrong with their ears). Then get the other nations out here and ready. Let's see what they have to say about this, how they account for what's happened. Let them present their expert witnesses and make their case; let them try to convince us what they say is true. "But you are my witnesses." God 's Decree. "You're my handpicked servant So that you'll come to know and trust me, understand both that I am and who I am. Previous to me there was no such thing as a god, nor will there be after me. I, yes I, am God . I'm the only Savior there is. I spoke, I saved, I told you what existed long before these upstart gods appeared on the scene. And you know it, you're my witnesses, you're the evidence." God 's Decree. "Yes, I am God. I've always been God and I always will be God. No one can take anything from me. I make; who can unmake it?"

God 's Message to his anointed, to Cyrus, whom he took by the hand To give the task of taming the nations, of terrifying their kings— He gave him free rein, no restrictions: "I'll go ahead of you, clearing and paving the road. I'll break down bronze city gates, smash padlocks, kick down barred entrances. I'll lead you to buried treasures, secret caches of valuables— Confirmations that it is, in fact, I, God , the God of Israel, who calls you by your name. It's because of my dear servant Jacob, Israel my chosen, That I've singled you out, called you by name, and given you this privileged work. And you don't even know me! I am God , the only God there is. Besides me there are no real gods. I'm the one who armed you for this work, though you don't even know me, So that everyone, from east to west, will know that I have no god-rivals. I am God , the only God there is. I form light and create darkness, I make harmonies and create discords. I, God , do all these things.

The God Who Forms Light and Darkness God 's Message to his anointed, to Cyrus, whom he took by the hand To give the task of taming the nations, of terrifying their kings— He gave him free rein, no restrictions: "I'll go ahead of you, clearing and paving the road. I'll break down bronze city gates, smash padlocks, kick down barred entrances. I'll lead you to buried treasures, secret caches of valuables— Confirmations that it is, in fact, I, God , the God of Israel, who calls you by your name. It's because of my dear servant Jacob, Israel my chosen, That I've singled you out, called you by name, and given you this privileged work. And you don't even know me! I am God , the only God there is. Besides me there are no real gods. I'm the one who armed you for this work, though you don't even know me, So that everyone, from east to west, will know that I have no god-rivals. I am God , the only God there is. I form light and create darkness, I make harmonies and create discords. I, God , do all these things. "Open up, heavens, and rain. Clouds, pour out buckets of my goodness! Loosen up, earth, and bloom salvation; sprout right living. I, God , generate all this. But doom to you who fight your Maker— you're a pot at odds with the potter! Does clay talk back to the potter: ‘What are you doing? What clumsy fingers!' Would a sperm say to a father, ‘Who gave you permission to use me to make a baby?' Or a fetus to a mother, ‘Why have you cooped me up in this belly?'" Thus God , The Holy of Israel, Israel's Maker, says: "Do you question who or what I'm making? Are you telling me what I can or cannot do? I made earth, and I created man and woman to live on it. I handcrafted the skies and direct all the constellations in their turnings. And now I've got Cyrus on the move. I've rolled out the red carpet before him. He will build my city. He will bring home my exiles. I didn't hire him to do this. I told him. I, God -of-the-Angel-Armies." God says: "The workers of Egypt, the merchants of Ethiopia, and those statuesque Sabeans Will all come over to you—all yours. Docile in chains, they'll follow you, Hands folded in reverence, praying before you: ‘Amazing! God is with you! There is no other God—none.'" Clearly, you are a God who works behind the scenes, God of Israel, Savior God. Humiliated, all those others will be ashamed to show their faces in public. Out of work and at loose ends, the makers of no-god idols won't know what to do with themselves. The people of Israel, though, are saved by you, God , saved with an eternal salvation. They won't be ashamed, they won't be at loose ends, ever. God , Creator of the heavens— he is, remember, G od. Maker of earth— he put it on its foundations, built it from scratch. He didn't go to all that trouble to just leave it empty, nothing in it. He made it to be lived in. This God says: "I am God , the one and only. I don't just talk to myself or mumble under my breath. I never told Jacob, ‘Seek me in emptiness, in dark nothingness.' I am God . I work out in the open, saying what's right, setting things right. So gather around, come on in, all you refugees and castoffs. They don't seem to know much, do they— those who carry around their no-god blocks of wood, praying for help to a dead stick? So tell me what you think. Look at the evidence. Put your heads together. Make your case. Who told you, and a long time ago, what's going on here? Who made sense of things for you? Wasn't I the one? God ? It had to be me. I'm the only God there is— The only God who does things right and knows how to help. So turn to me and be helped—saved!— everyone, whoever and wherever you are. I am God , the only God there is, the one and only. I promise in my own name: Every word out of my mouth does what it says. I never take back what I say. Everyone is going to end up kneeling before me. Everyone is going to end up saying of me, ‘Yes! Salvation and strength are in God !'" All who have raged against him will be brought before him, disgraced by their unbelief. And all who are connected with Israel will have a robust, praising, good life in God !

"And now," God says, this God who took me in hand from the moment of birth to be his servant, To bring Jacob back home to him, to set a reunion for Israel— What an honor for me in God 's eyes! That God should be my strength! He says, "But that's not a big enough job for my servant— just to recover the tribes of Jacob, merely to round up the strays of Israel. I'm setting you up as a light for the nations so that my salvation becomes global! "

Still, it's what God had in mind all along, to crush him with pain. The plan was that he give himself as an offering for sin so that he'd see life come from it—life, life, and more life. And God 's plan will deeply prosper through him.

Look! Listen! God 's arm is not amputated—he can still save. God 's ears are not stopped up—he can still hear. There's nothing wrong with God; the wrong is in you. Your wrongheaded lives caused the split between you and God. Your sins got between you so that he doesn't hear. Your hands are drenched in blood, your fingers dripping with guilt, Your lips smeared with lies, your tongue swollen from muttering obscenities. No one speaks up for the right, no one deals fairly. They trust in illusion, they tell lies, they get pregnant with mischief and have sin-babies. They hatch snake eggs and weave spider webs. Eat an egg and die; break an egg and get a snake! The spider webs are no good for shirts or shawls. No one can wear these weavings! They weave wickedness, they hatch violence. They compete in the race to do evil and run to be the first to murder. They plan and plot evil, think and breathe evil, and leave a trail of wrecked lives behind them. They know nothing about peace and less than nothing about justice. They make tortuously twisted roads. No peace for the wretch who walks down those roads!

We Long for Light but Sink into Darkness Look! Listen! God 's arm is not amputated—he can still save. God 's ears are not stopped up—he can still hear. There's nothing wrong with God; the wrong is in you. Your wrongheaded lives caused the split between you and God. Your sins got between you so that he doesn't hear. Your hands are drenched in blood, your fingers dripping with guilt, Your lips smeared with lies, your tongue swollen from muttering obscenities. No one speaks up for the right, no one deals fairly. They trust in illusion, they tell lies, they get pregnant with mischief and have sin-babies. They hatch snake eggs and weave spider webs. Eat an egg and die; break an egg and get a snake! The spider webs are no good for shirts or shawls. No one can wear these weavings! They weave wickedness, they hatch violence. They compete in the race to do evil and run to be the first to murder. They plan and plot evil, think and breathe evil, and leave a trail of wrecked lives behind them. They know nothing about peace and less than nothing about justice. They make tortuously twisted roads. No peace for the wretch who walks down those roads! Which means that we're a far cry from fair dealing, and we're not even close to right living. We long for light but sink into darkness, long for brightness but stumble through the night. Like the blind, we inch along a wall, groping eyeless in the dark. We shuffle our way in broad daylight, like the dead, but somehow walking. We're no better off than bears, groaning, and no worse off than doves, moaning. We look for justice—not a sign of it; for salvation—not so much as a hint. Our wrongdoings pile up before you, God, our sins stand up and accuse us. Our wrongdoings stare us down; we know in detail what we've done: Mocking and denying God , not following our God, Spreading false rumors, inciting sedition, pregnant with lies, muttering malice. Justice is beaten back, Righteousness is banished to the sidelines, Truth staggers down the street, Honesty is nowhere to be found, Good is missing in action. Anyone renouncing evil is beaten and robbed. God looked and saw evil looming on the horizon— so much evil and no sign of Justice. He couldn't believe what he saw: not a soul around to correct this awful situation. So he did it himself, took on the work of Salvation, fueled by his own Righteousness. He dressed in Righteousness, put it on like a suit of armor, with Salvation on his head like a helmet, Put on Judgment like an overcoat, and threw a cloak of Passion across his shoulders. He'll make everyone pay for what they've done: fury for his foes, just deserts for his enemies. Even the far-off islands will get paid off in full. In the west they'll fear the name of God , in the east they'll fear the glory of God , For he'll arrive like a river in flood stage, whipped to a torrent by the wind of God . "I'll arrive in Zion as Redeemer, to those in Jacob who leave their sins." God 's Decree. "As for me," God says, "this is my covenant with them: My Spirit that I've placed upon you and the words that I've given you to speak, they're not going to leave your mouths nor the mouths of your children nor the mouths of your grandchildren. You will keep repeating these words and won't ever stop." God 's orders.

We Long for Light but Sink into Darkness Look! Listen! God 's arm is not amputated—he can still save. God 's ears are not stopped up—he can still hear. There's nothing wrong with God; the wrong is in you. Your wrongheaded lives caused the split between you and God. Your sins got between you so that he doesn't hear. Your hands are drenched in blood, your fingers dripping with guilt, Your lips smeared with lies, your tongue swollen from muttering obscenities. No one speaks up for the right, no one deals fairly. They trust in illusion, they tell lies, they get pregnant with mischief and have sin-babies. They hatch snake eggs and weave spider webs. Eat an egg and die; break an egg and get a snake! The spider webs are no good for shirts or shawls. No one can wear these weavings! They weave wickedness, they hatch violence. They compete in the race to do evil and run to be the first to murder. They plan and plot evil, think and breathe evil, and leave a trail of wrecked lives behind them. They know nothing about peace and less than nothing about justice. They make tortuously twisted roads. No peace for the wretch who walks down those roads! Which means that we're a far cry from fair dealing, and we're not even close to right living. We long for light but sink into darkness, long for brightness but stumble through the night. Like the blind, we inch along a wall, groping eyeless in the dark. We shuffle our way in broad daylight, like the dead, but somehow walking. We're no better off than bears, groaning, and no worse off than doves, moaning. We look for justice—not a sign of it; for salvation—not so much as a hint. Our wrongdoings pile up before you, God, our sins stand up and accuse us. Our wrongdoings stare us down; we know in detail what we've done: Mocking and denying God , not following our God, Spreading false rumors, inciting sedition, pregnant with lies, muttering malice. Justice is beaten back, Righteousness is banished to the sidelines, Truth staggers down the street, Honesty is nowhere to be found, Good is missing in action. Anyone renouncing evil is beaten and robbed. God looked and saw evil looming on the horizon— so much evil and no sign of Justice. He couldn't believe what he saw: not a soul around to correct this awful situation. So he did it himself, took on the work of Salvation, fueled by his own Righteousness. He dressed in Righteousness, put it on like a suit of armor, with Salvation on his head like a helmet, Put on Judgment like an overcoat, and threw a cloak of Passion across his shoulders. He'll make everyone pay for what they've done: fury for his foes, just deserts for his enemies. Even the far-off islands will get paid off in full. In the west they'll fear the name of God , in the east they'll fear the glory of God , For he'll arrive like a river in flood stage, whipped to a torrent by the wind of God . "I'll arrive in Zion as Redeemer, to those in Jacob who leave their sins." God 's Decree. "As for me," God says, "this is my covenant with them: My Spirit that I've placed upon you and the words that I've given you to speak, they're not going to leave your mouths nor the mouths of your children nor the mouths of your grandchildren. You will keep repeating these words and won't ever stop." God 's orders.

We Long for Light but Sink into Darkness Look! Listen! God 's arm is not amputated—he can still save. God 's ears are not stopped up—he can still hear. There's nothing wrong with God; the wrong is in you. Your wrongheaded lives caused the split between you and God. Your sins got between you so that he doesn't hear. Your hands are drenched in blood, your fingers dripping with guilt, Your lips smeared with lies, your tongue swollen from muttering obscenities. No one speaks up for the right, no one deals fairly. They trust in illusion, they tell lies, they get pregnant with mischief and have sin-babies. They hatch snake eggs and weave spider webs. Eat an egg and die; break an egg and get a snake! The spider webs are no good for shirts or shawls. No one can wear these weavings! They weave wickedness, they hatch violence. They compete in the race to do evil and run to be the first to murder. They plan and plot evil, think and breathe evil, and leave a trail of wrecked lives behind them. They know nothing about peace and less than nothing about justice. They make tortuously twisted roads. No peace for the wretch who walks down those roads! Which means that we're a far cry from fair dealing, and we're not even close to right living. We long for light but sink into darkness, long for brightness but stumble through the night. Like the blind, we inch along a wall, groping eyeless in the dark. We shuffle our way in broad daylight, like the dead, but somehow walking. We're no better off than bears, groaning, and no worse off than doves, moaning. We look for justice—not a sign of it; for salvation—not so much as a hint. Our wrongdoings pile up before you, God, our sins stand up and accuse us. Our wrongdoings stare us down; we know in detail what we've done: Mocking and denying God , not following our God, Spreading false rumors, inciting sedition, pregnant with lies, muttering malice. Justice is beaten back, Righteousness is banished to the sidelines, Truth staggers down the street, Honesty is nowhere to be found, Good is missing in action. Anyone renouncing evil is beaten and robbed. God looked and saw evil looming on the horizon— so much evil and no sign of Justice. He couldn't believe what he saw: not a soul around to correct this awful situation. So he did it himself, took on the work of Salvation, fueled by his own Righteousness. He dressed in Righteousness, put it on like a suit of armor, with Salvation on his head like a helmet, Put on Judgment like an overcoat, and threw a cloak of Passion across his shoulders. He'll make everyone pay for what they've done: fury for his foes, just deserts for his enemies. Even the far-off islands will get paid off in full. In the west they'll fear the name of God , in the east they'll fear the glory of God , For he'll arrive like a river in flood stage, whipped to a torrent by the wind of God . "I'll arrive in Zion as Redeemer, to those in Jacob who leave their sins." God 's Decree. "As for me," God says, "this is my covenant with them: My Spirit that I've placed upon you and the words that I've given you to speak, they're not going to leave your mouths nor the mouths of your children nor the mouths of your grandchildren. You will keep repeating these words and won't ever stop." God 's orders.

We Long for Light but Sink into Darkness Look! Listen! God 's arm is not amputated—he can still save. God 's ears are not stopped up—he can still hear. There's nothing wrong with God; the wrong is in you. Your wrongheaded lives caused the split between you and God. Your sins got between you so that he doesn't hear. Your hands are drenched in blood, your fingers dripping with guilt, Your lips smeared with lies, your tongue swollen from muttering obscenities. No one speaks up for the right, no one deals fairly. They trust in illusion, they tell lies, they get pregnant with mischief and have sin-babies. They hatch snake eggs and weave spider webs. Eat an egg and die; break an egg and get a snake! The spider webs are no good for shirts or shawls. No one can wear these weavings! They weave wickedness, they hatch violence. They compete in the race to do evil and run to be the first to murder. They plan and plot evil, think and breathe evil, and leave a trail of wrecked lives behind them. They know nothing about peace and less than nothing about justice. They make tortuously twisted roads. No peace for the wretch who walks down those roads! Which means that we're a far cry from fair dealing, and we're not even close to right living. We long for light but sink into darkness, long for brightness but stumble through the night. Like the blind, we inch along a wall, groping eyeless in the dark. We shuffle our way in broad daylight, like the dead, but somehow walking. We're no better off than bears, groaning, and no worse off than doves, moaning. We look for justice—not a sign of it; for salvation—not so much as a hint. Our wrongdoings pile up before you, God, our sins stand up and accuse us. Our wrongdoings stare us down; we know in detail what we've done: Mocking and denying God , not following our God, Spreading false rumors, inciting sedition, pregnant with lies, muttering malice. Justice is beaten back, Righteousness is banished to the sidelines, Truth staggers down the street, Honesty is nowhere to be found, Good is missing in action. Anyone renouncing evil is beaten and robbed. God looked and saw evil looming on the horizon— so much evil and no sign of Justice. He couldn't believe what he saw: not a soul around to correct this awful situation. So he did it himself, took on the work of Salvation, fueled by his own Righteousness. He dressed in Righteousness, put it on like a suit of armor, with Salvation on his head like a helmet, Put on Judgment like an overcoat, and threw a cloak of Passion across his shoulders. He'll make everyone pay for what they've done: fury for his foes, just deserts for his enemies. Even the far-off islands will get paid off in full. In the west they'll fear the name of God , in the east they'll fear the glory of God , For he'll arrive like a river in flood stage, whipped to a torrent by the wind of God .

Then they remembered the old days, the days of Moses, God's servant: "Where is he who brought the shepherds of his flock up and out of the sea? And what happened to the One who set his Holy Spirit within them? Who linked his arm with Moses' right arm, divided the waters before them, Making him famous ever after, and led them through the muddy abyss as surefooted as horses on hard, level ground? Like a herd of cattle led to pasture, the Spirit of God gave them rest." That's how you led your people! That's how you became so famous! Look down from heaven, look at us! Look out the window of your holy and magnificent house! Whatever happened to your passion, your famous mighty acts, Your heartfelt pity, your compassion? Why are you holding back? You are our Father. Abraham and Israel are long dead. They wouldn't know us from Adam. But you're our living Father, our Redeemer, famous from eternity! Why, God , did you make us wander from your ways? Why did you make us cold and stubborn so that we no longer worshiped you in awe? Turn back for the sake of your servants. You own us! We belong to you! For a while your holy people had it good, but now our enemies have wrecked your holy place. For a long time now, you've paid no attention to us. It's like you never knew us.

Who Goes There? The watchmen call out, "Who goes there, marching out of Edom, out of Bozrah in clothes dyed red? Name yourself, so splendidly dressed, advancing, bristling with power!" "It is I: I speak what is right, I, mighty to save!" "And why are your robes so red, your clothes dyed red like those who tread grapes?" "I've been treading the winepress alone. No one was there to help me. Angrily, I stomped the grapes; raging, I trampled the people. Their blood spurted all over me— all my clothes were soaked with blood. I was set on vengeance. The time for redemption had arrived. I looked around for someone to help —no one. I couldn't believe it —not one volunteer. So I went ahead and did it myself, fed and fueled by my rage. I trampled the people in my anger, crushed them under foot in my wrath, soaked the earth with their lifeblood." I'll make a list of God 's gracious dealings, all the things God has done that need praising, All the generous bounties of God , his great goodness to the family of Israel— Compassion lavished, love extravagant. He said, "Without question these are my people, children who would never betray me." So he became their Savior. In all their troubles, he was troubled, too. He didn't send someone else to help them. He did it himself, in person. Out of his own love and pity he redeemed them. He rescued them and carried them along for a long, long time. But they turned on him; they grieved his Holy Spirit. So he turned on them, became their enemy and fought them. Then they remembered the old days, the days of Moses, God's servant: "Where is he who brought the shepherds of his flock up and out of the sea? And what happened to the One who set his Holy Spirit within them? Who linked his arm with Moses' right arm, divided the waters before them, Making him famous ever after, and led them through the muddy abyss as surefooted as horses on hard, level ground? Like a herd of cattle led to pasture, the Spirit of God gave them rest." That's how you led your people! That's how you became so famous! Look down from heaven, look at us! Look out the window of your holy and magnificent house! Whatever happened to your passion, your famous mighty acts, Your heartfelt pity, your compassion? Why are you holding back? You are our Father. Abraham and Israel are long dead. They wouldn't know us from Adam. But you're our living Father, our Redeemer, famous from eternity! Why, God , did you make us wander from your ways? Why did you make us cold and stubborn so that we no longer worshiped you in awe? Turn back for the sake of your servants. You own us! We belong to you! For a while your holy people had it good, but now our enemies have wrecked your holy place. For a long time now, you've paid no attention to us. It's like you never knew us.

Who Goes There? The watchmen call out, "Who goes there, marching out of Edom, out of Bozrah in clothes dyed red? Name yourself, so splendidly dressed, advancing, bristling with power!" "It is I: I speak what is right, I, mighty to save!" "And why are your robes so red, your clothes dyed red like those who tread grapes?" "I've been treading the winepress alone. No one was there to help me. Angrily, I stomped the grapes; raging, I trampled the people. Their blood spurted all over me— all my clothes were soaked with blood. I was set on vengeance. The time for redemption had arrived. I looked around for someone to help —no one. I couldn't believe it —not one volunteer. So I went ahead and did it myself, fed and fueled by my rage. I trampled the people in my anger, crushed them under foot in my wrath, soaked the earth with their lifeblood." I'll make a list of God 's gracious dealings, all the things God has done that need praising, All the generous bounties of God , his great goodness to the family of Israel— Compassion lavished, love extravagant. He said, "Without question these are my people, children who would never betray me." So he became their Savior. In all their troubles, he was troubled, too. He didn't send someone else to help them. He did it himself, in person. Out of his own love and pity he redeemed them. He rescued them and carried them along for a long, long time. But they turned on him; they grieved his Holy Spirit. So he turned on them, became their enemy and fought them. Then they remembered the old days, the days of Moses, God's servant: "Where is he who brought the shepherds of his flock up and out of the sea? And what happened to the One who set his Holy Spirit within them? Who linked his arm with Moses' right arm, divided the waters before them, Making him famous ever after, and led them through the muddy abyss as surefooted as horses on hard, level ground? Like a herd of cattle led to pasture, the Spirit of God gave them rest." That's how you led your people! That's how you became so famous! Look down from heaven, look at us! Look out the window of your holy and magnificent house! Whatever happened to your passion, your famous mighty acts, Your heartfelt pity, your compassion? Why are you holding back? You are our Father. Abraham and Israel are long dead. They wouldn't know us from Adam. But you're our living Father, our Redeemer, famous from eternity! Why, God , did you make us wander from your ways? Why did you make us cold and stubborn so that we no longer worshiped you in awe? Turn back for the sake of your servants. You own us! We belong to you! For a while your holy people had it good, but now our enemies have wrecked your holy place. For a long time now, you've paid no attention to us. It's like you never knew us.

Who Goes There? The watchmen call out, "Who goes there, marching out of Edom, out of Bozrah in clothes dyed red? Name yourself, so splendidly dressed, advancing, bristling with power!" "It is I: I speak what is right, I, mighty to save!" "And why are your robes so red, your clothes dyed red like those who tread grapes?" "I've been treading the winepress alone. No one was there to help me. Angrily, I stomped the grapes; raging, I trampled the people. Their blood spurted all over me— all my clothes were soaked with blood. I was set on vengeance. The time for redemption had arrived. I looked around for someone to help —no one. I couldn't believe it —not one volunteer. So I went ahead and did it myself, fed and fueled by my rage. I trampled the people in my anger, crushed them under foot in my wrath, soaked the earth with their lifeblood." I'll make a list of God 's gracious dealings, all the things God has done that need praising, All the generous bounties of God , his great goodness to the family of Israel— Compassion lavished, love extravagant. He said, "Without question these are my people, children who would never betray me." So he became their Savior. In all their troubles, he was troubled, too. He didn't send someone else to help them. He did it himself, in person. Out of his own love and pity he redeemed them. He rescued them and carried them along for a long, long time. But they turned on him; they grieved his Holy Spirit. So he turned on them, became their enemy and fought them. Then they remembered the old days, the days of Moses, God's servant: "Where is he who brought the shepherds of his flock up and out of the sea? And what happened to the One who set his Holy Spirit within them? Who linked his arm with Moses' right arm, divided the waters before them, Making him famous ever after, and led them through the muddy abyss as surefooted as horses on hard, level ground? Like a herd of cattle led to pasture, the Spirit of God gave them rest." That's how you led your people! That's how you became so famous! Look down from heaven, look at us! Look out the window of your holy and magnificent house! Whatever happened to your passion, your famous mighty acts, Your heartfelt pity, your compassion? Why are you holding back? You are our Father. Abraham and Israel are long dead. They wouldn't know us from Adam. But you're our living Father, our Redeemer, famous from eternity! Why, God , did you make us wander from your ways? Why did you make us cold and stubborn so that we no longer worshiped you in awe? Turn back for the sake of your servants. You own us! We belong to you! For a while your holy people had it good, but now our enemies have wrecked your holy place. For a long time now, you've paid no attention to us. It's like you never knew us.

Who Goes There? The watchmen call out, "Who goes there, marching out of Edom, out of Bozrah in clothes dyed red? Name yourself, so splendidly dressed, advancing, bristling with power!" "It is I: I speak what is right, I, mighty to save!" "And why are your robes so red, your clothes dyed red like those who tread grapes?" "I've been treading the winepress alone. No one was there to help me. Angrily, I stomped the grapes; raging, I trampled the people. Their blood spurted all over me— all my clothes were soaked with blood. I was set on vengeance. The time for redemption had arrived. I looked around for someone to help —no one. I couldn't believe it —not one volunteer. So I went ahead and did it myself, fed and fueled by my rage. I trampled the people in my anger, crushed them under foot in my wrath, soaked the earth with their lifeblood." I'll make a list of God 's gracious dealings, all the things God has done that need praising, All the generous bounties of God , his great goodness to the family of Israel— Compassion lavished, love extravagant. He said, "Without question these are my people, children who would never betray me." So he became their Savior. In all their troubles, he was troubled, too. He didn't send someone else to help them. He did it himself, in person. Out of his own love and pity he redeemed them. He rescued them and carried them along for a long, long time. But they turned on him; they grieved his Holy Spirit. So he turned on them, became their enemy and fought them. Then they remembered the old days, the days of Moses, God's servant: "Where is he who brought the shepherds of his flock up and out of the sea? And what happened to the One who set his Holy Spirit within them? Who linked his arm with Moses' right arm, divided the waters before them, Making him famous ever after, and led them through the muddy abyss as surefooted as horses on hard, level ground? Like a herd of cattle led to pasture, the Spirit of God gave them rest." That's how you led your people! That's how you became so famous! Look down from heaven, look at us! Look out the window of your holy and magnificent house! Whatever happened to your passion, your famous mighty acts, Your heartfelt pity, your compassion? Why are you holding back? You are our Father. Abraham and Israel are long dead. They wouldn't know us from Adam. But you're our living Father, our Redeemer, famous from eternity! Why, God , did you make us wander from your ways? Why did you make us cold and stubborn so that we no longer worshiped you in awe? Turn back for the sake of your servants. You own us! We belong to you! For a while your holy people had it good, but now our enemies have wrecked your holy place. For a long time now, you've paid no attention to us. It's like you never knew us.

Who Goes There? The watchmen call out, "Who goes there, marching out of Edom, out of Bozrah in clothes dyed red? Name yourself, so splendidly dressed, advancing, bristling with power!" "It is I: I speak what is right, I, mighty to save!" "And why are your robes so red, your clothes dyed red like those who tread grapes?" "I've been treading the winepress alone. No one was there to help me. Angrily, I stomped the grapes; raging, I trampled the people. Their blood spurted all over me— all my clothes were soaked with blood. I was set on vengeance. The time for redemption had arrived. I looked around for someone to help —no one. I couldn't believe it —not one volunteer. So I went ahead and did it myself, fed and fueled by my rage. I trampled the people in my anger, crushed them under foot in my wrath, soaked the earth with their lifeblood." I'll make a list of God 's gracious dealings, all the things God has done that need praising, All the generous bounties of God , his great goodness to the family of Israel— Compassion lavished, love extravagant. He said, "Without question these are my people, children who would never betray me." So he became their Savior. In all their troubles, he was troubled, too. He didn't send someone else to help them. He did it himself, in person. Out of his own love and pity he redeemed them. He rescued them and carried them along for a long, long time. But they turned on him; they grieved his Holy Spirit. So he turned on them, became their enemy and fought them. Then they remembered the old days, the days of Moses, God's servant: "Where is he who brought the shepherds of his flock up and out of the sea? And what happened to the One who set his Holy Spirit within them? Who linked his arm with Moses' right arm, divided the waters before them, Making him famous ever after, and led them through the muddy abyss as surefooted as horses on hard, level ground? Like a herd of cattle led to pasture, the Spirit of God gave them rest." That's how you led your people! That's how you became so famous! Look down from heaven, look at us! Look out the window of your holy and magnificent house! Whatever happened to your passion, your famous mighty acts, Your heartfelt pity, your compassion? Why are you holding back? You are our Father. Abraham and Israel are long dead. They wouldn't know us from Adam. But you're our living Father, our Redeemer, famous from eternity! Why, God , did you make us wander from your ways? Why did you make us cold and stubborn so that we no longer worshiped you in awe? Turn back for the sake of your servants. You own us! We belong to you! For a while your holy people had it good, but now our enemies have wrecked your holy place. For a long time now, you've paid no attention to us. It's like you never knew us.

"The Message from God -of-the-Angel-Armies, Israel's God: ‘Go ahead! Put your burnt offerings with all your other sacrificial offerings and make a good meal for yourselves. I sure don't want them! When I delivered your ancestors out of Egypt, I never said anything to them about wanting burnt offerings and sacrifices as such. But I did say this, commanded this: "Obey me. Do what I say and I will be your God and you will be my people. Live the way I tell you. Do what I command so that your lives will go well."

God explained, "This is the way I am going to ruin the pride of Judah and the great pride of Jerusalem—a wicked bunch of people who won't obey me, who do only what they want to do, who chase after all kinds of no-gods and worship them. They're going to turn out as rotten as these old shorts. Just as shorts clothe and protect, so I kept the whole family of Israel under my care"— God 's Decree—"so that everyone could see they were my people, a people I could show off to the world and be proud of. But they refused to do a thing I said.