Study Desk

Our Redeemer speaks, named God -of-the-Angel-Armies, The Holy of Israel: "Shut up and get out of the way, daughter of Chaldeans. You'll no longer be called ‘First Lady of the Kingdoms.' I was fed up with my people, thoroughly disgusted with my progeny. I turned them over to you, but you had no compassion. You put old men and women to cruel, hard labor. You said, ‘I'm the First Lady. I'll always be the pampered darling.' You took nothing seriously, took nothing to heart, never gave tomorrow a thought. Well, start thinking, playgirl. You're acting like the center of the universe, Smugly saying to yourself, ‘I'm Number One. There's nobody but me. I'll never be a widow, I'll never lose my children.' Those two things are going to hit you both at once, suddenly, on the same day: Spouse and children gone, a total loss, despite your many enchantments and charms. You were so confident and comfortable in your evil life, saying, ‘No one sees me.' You thought you knew so much, had everything figured out. What delusion! Smugly telling yourself, ‘I'm Number One. There's nobody but me.' Ruin descends— you can't charm it away. Disaster strikes— you can't cast it off with spells. Catastrophe, sudden and total— and you're totally at sea, totally bewildered! But don't give up. From your great repertoire of enchantments there must be one you haven't yet tried. You've been at this a long time. Surely something will work. I know you're exhausted trying out remedies, but don't give up. Call in the astrologers and stargazers. They're good at this. Surely they can work up something!

"And now listen to this, family of Jacob, you who are called by the name Israel: Who got you started in the loins of Judah, you who use God 's name to back up your promises and pray to the God of Israel? But do you mean it? Do you live like it? You claim to be citizens of the Holy City; you act as though you lean on the God of Israel, named God -of-the-Angel-Armies. For a long time now, I've let you in on the way I work: I told you what I was going to do beforehand, then I did it and it was done, and that's that. I know you're a bunch of hardheads, obstinate and flint-faced, So I got a running start and began telling you what was going on before it even happened. That is why you can't say, ‘My god-idol did this.' ‘My favorite god-carving commanded this.' You have all this evidence confirmed by your own eyes and ears. Shouldn't you be talking about it? And that was just the beginning. I have a lot more to tell you, things you never knew existed. This isn't a variation on the same old thing. This is new, brand-new, something you'd never guess or dream up. When you hear this you won't be able to say, ‘I knew that all along.' You've never been good listeners to me. You have a history of ignoring me, A sorry track record of fickle attachments— rebels from the womb. But out of the sheer goodness of my heart, because of who I am, I keep a tight rein on my anger and hold my temper. I don't wash my hands of you. Do you see what I've done? I've refined you, but not without fire. I've tested you like silver in the furnace of affliction. Out of myself, simply because of who I am, I do what I do. I have my reputation to keep up. I'm not playing second fiddle to either gods or people.

Tested in the Furnace of Affliction "And now listen to this, family of Jacob, you who are called by the name Israel: Who got you started in the loins of Judah, you who use God 's name to back up your promises and pray to the God of Israel? But do you mean it? Do you live like it? You claim to be citizens of the Holy City; you act as though you lean on the God of Israel, named God -of-the-Angel-Armies. For a long time now, I've let you in on the way I work: I told you what I was going to do beforehand, then I did it and it was done, and that's that. I know you're a bunch of hardheads, obstinate and flint-faced, So I got a running start and began telling you what was going on before it even happened. That is why you can't say, ‘My god-idol did this.' ‘My favorite god-carving commanded this.' You have all this evidence confirmed by your own eyes and ears. Shouldn't you be talking about it? And that was just the beginning. I have a lot more to tell you, things you never knew existed. This isn't a variation on the same old thing. This is new, brand-new, something you'd never guess or dream up. When you hear this you won't be able to say, ‘I knew that all along.' You've never been good listeners to me. You have a history of ignoring me, A sorry track record of fickle attachments— rebels from the womb. But out of the sheer goodness of my heart, because of who I am, I keep a tight rein on my anger and hold my temper. I don't wash my hands of you. Do you see what I've done? I've refined you, but not without fire. I've tested you like silver in the furnace of affliction. Out of myself, simply because of who I am, I do what I do. I have my reputation to keep up. I'm not playing second fiddle to either gods or people. "Listen, Jacob. Listen, Israel— I'm the One who named you! I'm the One. I got things started and, yes, I'll wrap them up. Earth is my work, handmade. And the skies—I made them, too, horizon to horizon. When I speak, they're on their feet, at attention. "Come everybody, gather around, listen: Who among the gods has delivered the news? I, God , love this man Cyrus, and I'm using him to do what I want with Babylon. I, yes I, have spoken. I've called him. I've brought him here. He'll be successful. Come close, listen carefully: I've never kept secrets from you. I've always been present with you." And now, the Master, God , sends me and his Spirit with this Message from God , your Redeemer, The Holy of Israel: "I am God , your God, who teaches you how to live right and well. I show you what to do, where to go. If you had listened all along to what I told you, your life would have flowed full like a river, blessings rolling in like waves from the sea. Children and grandchildren are like sand, your progeny like grains of sand. There would be no end of them, no danger of losing touch with me." Get out of Babylon! Run from the Babylonians! Shout the news. Broadcast it. Let the world know, the whole world. Tell them, " God redeemed his dear servant Jacob!" They weren't thirsty when he led them through the deserts. He made water pour out of the rock; he split the rock and the water gushed. "There is no peace," says God , "for the wicked."

Tested in the Furnace of Affliction "And now listen to this, family of Jacob, you who are called by the name Israel: Who got you started in the loins of Judah, you who use God 's name to back up your promises and pray to the God of Israel? But do you mean it? Do you live like it? You claim to be citizens of the Holy City; you act as though you lean on the God of Israel, named God -of-the-Angel-Armies. For a long time now, I've let you in on the way I work: I told you what I was going to do beforehand, then I did it and it was done, and that's that. I know you're a bunch of hardheads, obstinate and flint-faced, So I got a running start and began telling you what was going on before it even happened. That is why you can't say, ‘My god-idol did this.' ‘My favorite god-carving commanded this.' You have all this evidence confirmed by your own eyes and ears. Shouldn't you be talking about it? And that was just the beginning. I have a lot more to tell you, things you never knew existed. This isn't a variation on the same old thing. This is new, brand-new, something you'd never guess or dream up. When you hear this you won't be able to say, ‘I knew that all along.' You've never been good listeners to me. You have a history of ignoring me, A sorry track record of fickle attachments— rebels from the womb. But out of the sheer goodness of my heart, because of who I am, I keep a tight rein on my anger and hold my temper. I don't wash my hands of you. Do you see what I've done? I've refined you, but not without fire. I've tested you like silver in the furnace of affliction. Out of myself, simply because of who I am, I do what I do. I have my reputation to keep up. I'm not playing second fiddle to either gods or people. "Listen, Jacob. Listen, Israel— I'm the One who named you! I'm the One. I got things started and, yes, I'll wrap them up. Earth is my work, handmade. And the skies—I made them, too, horizon to horizon. When I speak, they're on their feet, at attention. "Come everybody, gather around, listen: Who among the gods has delivered the news? I, God , love this man Cyrus, and I'm using him to do what I want with Babylon. I, yes I, have spoken. I've called him. I've brought him here. He'll be successful. Come close, listen carefully: I've never kept secrets from you. I've always been present with you." And now, the Master, God , sends me and his Spirit with this Message from God , your Redeemer, The Holy of Israel: "I am God , your God, who teaches you how to live right and well. I show you what to do, where to go. If you had listened all along to what I told you, your life would have flowed full like a river, blessings rolling in like waves from the sea. Children and grandchildren are like sand, your progeny like grains of sand. There would be no end of them, no danger of losing touch with me." Get out of Babylon! Run from the Babylonians! Shout the news. Broadcast it. Let the world know, the whole world. Tell them, " God redeemed his dear servant Jacob!" They weren't thirsty when he led them through the deserts. He made water pour out of the rock; he split the rock and the water gushed. "There is no peace," says God , "for the wicked."

Tested in the Furnace of Affliction "And now listen to this, family of Jacob, you who are called by the name Israel: Who got you started in the loins of Judah, you who use God 's name to back up your promises and pray to the God of Israel? But do you mean it? Do you live like it? You claim to be citizens of the Holy City; you act as though you lean on the God of Israel, named God -of-the-Angel-Armies. For a long time now, I've let you in on the way I work: I told you what I was going to do beforehand, then I did it and it was done, and that's that. I know you're a bunch of hardheads, obstinate and flint-faced, So I got a running start and began telling you what was going on before it even happened. That is why you can't say, ‘My god-idol did this.' ‘My favorite god-carving commanded this.' You have all this evidence confirmed by your own eyes and ears. Shouldn't you be talking about it? And that was just the beginning. I have a lot more to tell you, things you never knew existed. This isn't a variation on the same old thing. This is new, brand-new, something you'd never guess or dream up. When you hear this you won't be able to say, ‘I knew that all along.' You've never been good listeners to me. You have a history of ignoring me, A sorry track record of fickle attachments— rebels from the womb. But out of the sheer goodness of my heart, because of who I am, I keep a tight rein on my anger and hold my temper. I don't wash my hands of you. Do you see what I've done? I've refined you, but not without fire. I've tested you like silver in the furnace of affliction. Out of myself, simply because of who I am, I do what I do. I have my reputation to keep up. I'm not playing second fiddle to either gods or people. "Listen, Jacob. Listen, Israel— I'm the One who named you! I'm the One. I got things started and, yes, I'll wrap them up. Earth is my work, handmade. And the skies—I made them, too, horizon to horizon. When I speak, they're on their feet, at attention. "Come everybody, gather around, listen: Who among the gods has delivered the news? I, God , love this man Cyrus, and I'm using him to do what I want with Babylon. I, yes I, have spoken. I've called him. I've brought him here. He'll be successful. Come close, listen carefully: I've never kept secrets from you. I've always been present with you." And now, the Master, God , sends me and his Spirit with this Message from God , your Redeemer, The Holy of Israel: "I am God , your God, who teaches you how to live right and well. I show you what to do, where to go. If you had listened all along to what I told you, your life would have flowed full like a river, blessings rolling in like waves from the sea. Children and grandchildren are like sand, your progeny like grains of sand. There would be no end of them, no danger of losing touch with me."

"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! "

"Can a mother forget the infant at her breast, walk away from the baby she bore? But even if mothers forget, I'd never forget you—never. Look, I've written your names on the backs of my hands. The walls you're rebuilding are never out of my sight. Your builders are faster than your wreckers. The demolition crews are gone for good. Look up, look around, look well! See them all gathering, coming to you? As sure as I am the living God"— God 's Decree— "you're going to put them on like so much jewelry, you're going to use them to dress up like a bride.

"And your ruined land? Your devastated, decimated land? Filled with more people than you know what to do with! And your barbarian enemies, a fading memory. The children born in your exile will be saying, ‘It's getting too crowded here. I need more room.' And you'll say to yourself, ‘Where on earth did these children come from? I lost everything, had nothing, was exiled and penniless. So who reared these children? How did these children get here?'"

God says: "Can you produce your mother's divorce papers proving I got rid of her? Can you produce a receipt proving I sold you? Of course you can't. It's your sins that put you here, your wrongs that got you shipped out. So why didn't anyone come when I knocked? Why didn't anyone answer when I called? Do you think I've forgotten how to help? Am I so decrepit that I can't deliver? I'm as powerful as ever, and can reverse what I once did: I can dry up the sea with a word, turn river water into desert sand, And leave the fish stinking in the sun, stranded on dry land... Turn all the lights out in the sky and pull down the curtain."

The Master, God , has given me a well-taught tongue, So I know how to encourage tired people. He wakes me up in the morning, Wakes me up, opens my ears to listen as one ready to take orders. The Master, God , opened my ears, and I didn't go back to sleep, didn't pull the covers back over my head. I followed orders, stood there and took it while they beat me, held steady while they pulled out my beard, Didn't dodge their insults, faced them as they spit in my face. And the Master, God , stays right there and helps me, so I'm not disgraced. Therefore I set my face like flint, confident that I'll never regret this. My champion is right here. Let's take our stand together! Who dares bring suit against me? Let him try! Look! the Master, God , is right here. Who would dare call me guilty? Look! My accusers are a clothes bin of threadbare socks and shirts, fodder for moths!

So wake up! Rub the sleep from your eyes! Up on your feet, Jerusalem! You've drunk the cup God handed you, the strong drink of his anger. You drank it down to the last drop, staggered and collapsed, dead-drunk. And nobody to help you home, no one among your friends or children to take you by the hand and put you in bed. You've been hit with a double dose of trouble —does anyone care? Assault and battery, hunger and death —will anyone comfort? Your sons and daughters have passed out, strewn in the streets like stunned rabbits, Sleeping off the strong drink of God 's anger, the rage of your God.

Therefore listen, please, you with your splitting headaches, You who are nursing the hangovers that didn't come from drinking wine. Your Master, your God , has something to say, your God has taken up his people's case: "Look, I've taken back the drink that sent you reeling. No more drinking from that jug of my anger! I've passed it over to your abusers to drink, those who ordered you, ‘Down on the ground so we can walk all over you!' And you had to do it. Flat on the ground, you were the dirt under their feet."

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.

"Sing, barren woman, who has never had a baby. Fill the air with song, you who've never experienced childbirth! You're ending up with far more children than all those childbearing women." God says so! "Clear lots of ground for your tents! Make your tents large. Spread out! Think big! Use plenty of rope, drive the tent pegs deep. You're going to need lots of elbow room for your growing family. You're going to take over whole nations; you're going to resettle abandoned cities. Don't be afraid—you're not going to be embarrassed. Don't hold back—you're not going to come up short. You'll forget all about the humiliations of your youth, and the indignities of being a widow will fade from memory. For your Maker is your bridegroom, his name, God -of-the-Angel-Armies! Your Redeemer is The Holy of Israel, known as God of the whole earth. You were like an abandoned wife, devastated with grief, and God welcomed you back, Like a woman married young and then left," says your God.

"This exile is just like the days of Noah for me: I promised then that the waters of Noah would never again flood the earth. I'm promising now no more anger, no more dressing you down. For even if the mountains walk away and the hills fall to pieces, My love won't walk away from you, my covenant commitment of peace won't fall apart." The God who has compassion on you says so.

"I don't think the way you think. The way you work isn't the way I work." God 's Decree. "For as the sky soars high above earth, so the way I work surpasses the way you work, and the way I think is beyond the way you think. Just as rain and snow descend from the skies and don't go back until they've watered the earth, Doing their work of making things grow and blossom, producing seed for farmers and food for the hungry, So will the words that come out of my mouth not come back empty-handed. They'll do the work I sent them to do, they'll complete the assignment I gave them.

"So you'll go out in joy, you'll be led into a whole and complete life. The mountains and hills will lead the parade, bursting with song. All the trees of the forest will join the procession, exuberant with applause. No more thistles, but giant sequoias, no more thornbushes, but stately pines— Monuments to me, to God , living and lasting evidence of God ."

"If you watch your step on the Sabbath and don't use my holy day for personal advantage, If you treat the Sabbath as a day of joy, God 's holy day as a celebration, If you honor it by refusing ‘business as usual,' making money, running here and there— Then you'll be free to enjoy God ! Oh, I'll make you ride high and soar above it all. I'll make you feast on the inheritance of your ancestor Jacob." Yes! God says so!

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.