Study Desk

"At that same time, a fine vineyard will appear. There's something to sing about! I, God , tend it. I keep it well-watered. I keep careful watch over it so that no one can damage it. I'm not angry. I care. Even if it gives me thistles and thornbushes, I'll just pull them out and burn them up. Let that vine cling to me for safety, let it find a good and whole life with me, let it hold on for a good and whole life."

Has God knocked them to the ground as he knocked down those who hit them? Oh, no. Were they killed as their killers were killed? Again, no. He was hard on them all right. The exile was a harsh sentence. He blew them away on a fierce blast of wind. But the good news is that through this experience Jacob's guilt was taken away. The evidence that his sin is removed will be this: He will tear down the alien altars, take them apart stone by stone, And then crush the stones into gravel and clean out all the sex-and-religion shrines. For there's nothing left of that pretentious grandeur. Nobody lives there anymore. It's unlivable. But animals do just fine, browsing and bedding down. And it's not a bad place to get firewood. Dry twigs and dead branches are plentiful. It's the leavings of a people with no sense of God. So, the God who made them Will have nothing to do with them. He who formed them will turn his back on them.

But the Master, God , has something to say to this: "Watch closely. I'm laying a foundation in Zion, a solid granite foundation, squared and true. And this is the meaning of the stone: a trusting life won't topple. I'll make justice the measuring stick and righteousness the plumb line for the building. A hailstorm will knock down the shantytown of lies, and a flash flood will wash out the rubble.

"Then you'll see that your precious life insurance policy wasn't worth the paper it was written on. Your careful precautions against death were a pack of illusions and lies. When the disaster happens, you'll be crushed by it. Every time disaster comes, you'll be in on it— disaster in the morning, disaster at night." Every report of disaster will send you cowering in terror. There will be no place where you can rest, nothing to hide under. God will rise to full stature, raging as he did long ago on Mount Perazim And in the valley of Gibeon against the Philistines. But this time it's against you. Hard to believe, but true. Not what you'd expect, but it's coming. Sober up, friends, and don't scoff. Scoffing will just make it worse. I've heard the orders issued for destruction, orders from God -of-the-Angel-Armies—ending up in an international disaster.

Drug yourselves so you feel nothing. Blind yourselves so you see nothing. Get drunk, but not on wine. Black out, but not from whiskey. For God has rocked you into a deep, deep sleep, put the discerning prophets to sleep, put the farsighted seers to sleep.

And then before you know it, and without you having anything to do with it, Wasted Lebanon will be transformed into lush gardens, and Mount Carmel reforested. At that time the deaf will hear word-for-word what's been written. After a lifetime in the dark, the blind will see. The castoffs of society will be laughing and dancing in God , the down-and-outs shouting praise to The Holy of Israel. For there'll be no more gangs on the street. Cynical scoffers will be an extinct species. Those who never missed a chance to hurt or demean will never be heard of again: Gone the people who corrupted the courts, gone the people who cheated the poor, gone the people who victimized the innocent.

And finally this, God 's Message for the family of Jacob, the same God who redeemed Abraham: "No longer will Jacob hang his head in shame, no longer grow gaunt and pale with waiting. For he's going to see his children, my personal gift to him—lots of children. And these children will honor me by living holy lives. In holy worship they'll honor the Holy One of Jacob and stand in holy awe of the God of Israel. Those who got off-track will get back on-track, and complainers and whiners learn gratitude."

"Doom, rebel children!" God 's Decree. "You make plans, but not mine. You make deals, but not in my Spirit. You pile sin on sin, one sin on top of another, Going off to Egypt without so much as asking me, Running off to Pharaoh for protection, expecting to hide out in Egypt. Well, some protection Pharaoh will be! Some hideout, Egypt! They look big and important, true, with officials strategically established in Zoan in the north and Hanes in the south, but there's nothing to them. Anyone stupid enough to trust them will end up looking stupid— All show, no substance, an embarrassing farce."

And this note on the animals of the Negev encountered on the road to Egypt: A most dangerous, treacherous route, menaced by lions and deadly snakes. And you're going to lug all your stuff down there, your donkeys and camels loaded down with bribes, Thinking you can buy protection from that hollow farce of a nation? Egypt is all show, no substance. My name for her is Toothless Dragon.

But God 's not finished. He's waiting around to be gracious to you. He's gathering strength to show mercy to you. God takes the time to do everything right—everything. Those who wait around for him are the lucky ones.

Oh yes, people of Zion, citizens of Jerusalem, your time of tears is over. Cry for help and you'll find it's grace and more grace. The moment he hears, he'll answer. Just as the Master kept you alive during the hard times, he'll keep your teacher alive and present among you. Your teacher will be right there, local and on the job, urging you on whenever you wander left or right: "This is the right road. Walk down this road." You'll scrap your expensive and fashionable god-images. You'll throw them in the trash as so much garbage, saying, "Good riddance!"

God will provide rain for the seeds you sow. The grain that grows will be abundant. Your cattle will range far and wide. Oblivious to war and earthquake, the oxen and donkeys you use for hauling and plowing will be fed well near running brooks that flow freely from mountains and hills. Better yet, on the Day God heals his people of the wounds and bruises from the time of punishment, moonlight will flare into sunlight, and sunlight, like a whole week of sunshine at once, will flood the land.

But you will sing, sing through an all-night holy feast! Your hearts will burst with song, make music like the sound of flutes on parade, En route to the mountain of God , on the way to the Rock of Israel. God will sound out in grandiose thunder, display his hammering arm, Furiously angry, showering sparks— cloudburst, storm, hail! Oh yes, at God 's thunder Assyria will cower under the clubbing. Every blow God lands on them with his club is in time to the music of drums and pipes, God in all-out, two-fisted battle, fighting against them. Topheth's fierce fires are well prepared, ready for the Assyrian king. The Topheth furnace is deep and wide, well stoked with hot-burning wood. God 's breath, like a river of burning pitch, starts the fire.

"Assyrians will fall dead, killed by a sword-thrust but not by a soldier, laid low by a sword not swung by a mortal. Assyrians will run from that sword, run for their lives, and their prize young men made slaves. Terrorized, that rock-solid people will fall to pieces, their leaders scatter hysterically." God 's Decree on Assyria. His fire blazes in Zion, his furnace burns hot in Jerusalem.

But look! A king will rule in the right way, and his leaders will carry out justice. Each one will stand as a shelter from high winds, provide safe cover in stormy weather. Each will be cool running water in parched land, a huge granite outcrop giving shade in the desert. Anyone who looks will see, anyone who listens will hear. The impulsive will make sound decisions, the tongue-tied will speak with eloquence. No more will fools become celebrities, nor crooks be rewarded with fame. For fools are fools and that's that, thinking up new ways to do mischief. They leave a wake of wrecked lives and lies about God , Turning their backs on the homeless hungry, ignoring those dying of thirst in the streets. And the crooks? Underhanded sneaks they are, inventive in sin and scandal, Exploiting the poor with scams and lies, unmoved by the victimized poor. But those who are noble make noble plans, and stand for what is noble.

Take your stand, indolent women! Listen to me! Indulgent, indolent women, listen closely to what I have to say. In just a little over a year from now, you'll be shaken out of your lazy lives. The grape harvest will fail, and there'll be no fruit on the trees. Oh tremble, you indolent women. Get serious, you pampered dolls! Strip down and discard your silk fineries. Put on funeral clothes. Shed honest tears for the lost harvest, the failed vintage. Weep for my people's gardens and farms that grow nothing but thistles and thornbushes. Cry tears, real tears, for the happy homes no longer happy, the merry city no longer merry. The royal palace is deserted, the bustling city quiet as a morgue, The emptied parks and playgrounds taken over by wild animals, delighted with their new home.

God , treat us kindly. You're our only hope. First thing in the morning, be there for us! When things go bad, help us out! You spoke in thunder and everyone ran. You showed up and nations scattered. Your people, for a change, got in on the loot, picking the field clean of the enemy spoils.

"Now I'm stepping in," God says. "From now on, I'm taking over. The gloves come off. Now see how mighty I am. There's nothing to you. Pregnant with chaff, you produce straw babies; full of hot air, you self-destruct. You're good for nothing but fertilizer and fuel. Earth to earth—and the sooner the better.

Just take a look at Zion, will you? Centering our worship in festival feasts! Feast your eyes on Jerusalem, a quiet and permanent place to live. No more pulling up stakes and moving on, no more patched-together lean-tos. Instead, God! God majestic, God himself the place in a country of broad rivers and streams, But rivers blocked to invading ships, off-limits to predatory pirates. For God makes all the decisions here. God is our king. God runs this place and he'll keep us safe.

Ha! Your sails are in shreds, your mast wobbling, your hold leaking. The plunder is free for the taking, free for all— for weak and strong, insiders and outsiders.