Study Desk

They said to him, "Hezekiah says, ‘This is a black day. We're in crisis. We're like pregnant women without even the strength to have a baby! Do you think your God heard what the Rabshekah said, sent by his master the king of Assyria to mock the living God? And do you think your God will do anything about it? Pray for us, Isaiah. Pray for those of us left here holding the fort!'"

Then Hezekiah prayed to God : " God -of-the-Angel-Armies, enthroned over the cherubim-angels, you are God, the only God there is, God of all kingdoms on earth. You made heaven and earth. Listen, O God , and hear. Look, O God , and see. Mark all these words of Sennacherib that he sent to mock the living God. It's quite true, O God , that the kings of Assyria have devastated all the nations and their lands. They've thrown their gods into the trash and burned them—no great achievement since they were no-gods anyway, gods made in workshops, carved from wood and chiseled from rock. An end to the no-gods! But now step in, O God , our God. Save us from him. Let all the kingdoms of earth know that you and you alone are God ."

Then the Angel of God arrived and struck the Assyrian camp—185,000 Assyrians died. By the time the sun came up, they were all dead—an army of corpses! Sennacherib, king of Assyria, got out of there fast, back home to Nineveh. As he was worshiping in the sanctuary of his god Nisroch, he was murdered by his sons Adrammelech and Sharezer. They escaped to the land of Ararat. His son Esar-haddon became the next king.

Later the prophet Isaiah showed up. He asked Hezekiah, "What were these men up to? What did they say? And where did they come from?" Hezekiah said, "They came from a long way off, from Babylon."

"And what did they see in your palace?" "Everything," said Hezekiah. "I showed them the works, opened all the doors and impressed them with it all."

Have you not been paying attention? Have you not been listening? Haven't you heard these stories all your life? Don't you understand the foundation of all things? God sits high above the round ball of earth. The people look like mere ants. He stretches out the skies like a canvas— yes, like a tent canvas to live under. He ignores what all the princes say and do. The rulers of the earth count for nothing. Princes and rulers don't amount to much. Like seeds barely rooted, just sprouted, They shrivel when God blows on them. Like flecks of chaff, they're gone with the wind.

Why would you ever complain, O Jacob, or, whine, Israel, saying, " God has lost track of me. He doesn't care what happens to me"? Don't you know anything? Haven't you been listening? God doesn't come and go. God lasts. He's Creator of all you can see or imagine. He doesn't get tired out, doesn't pause to catch his breath. And he knows everything, inside and out. He energizes those who get tired, gives fresh strength to dropouts. For even young people tire and drop out, young folk in their prime stumble and fall. But those who wait upon God get fresh strength. They spread their wings and soar like eagles, They run and don't get tired, they walk and don't lag behind.

"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.

Sing to God a brand-new song, sing his praises all over the world! Let the sea and its fish give a round of applause, with all the far-flung islands joining in. Let the desert and its camps raise a tune, calling the Kedar nomads to join in. Let the villagers in Sela round up a choir and perform from the tops of the mountains. Make God 's glory resound; echo his praises from coast to coast. God steps out like he means business. You can see he's primed for action. He shouts, announcing his arrival; he takes charge and his enemies fall into line: "I've been quiet long enough. I've held back, biting my tongue. But now I'm letting loose, letting go, like a woman who's having a baby— Stripping the hills bare, withering the wildflowers, Drying up the rivers, turning lakes into mudflats. But I'll take the hand of those who don't know the way, who can't see where they're going. I'll be a personal guide to them, directing them through unknown country. I'll be right there to show them what roads to take, make sure they don't fall into the ditch. These are the things I'll be doing for them— sticking with them, not leaving them for a minute."

Pay attention! Are you deaf? Open your eyes! Are you blind? You're my servant, and you're not looking! You're my messenger, and you're not listening! The very people I depended upon, servants of God , blind as a bat—willfully blind! You've seen a lot, but looked at nothing. You've heard everything, but listened to nothing. God intended, out of the goodness of his heart, to be lavish in his revelation. But this is a people battered and cowed, shut up in attics and closets, Victims licking their wounds, feeling ignored, abandoned. But is anyone out there listening? Is anyone paying attention to what's coming? Who do you think turned Jacob over to the thugs, let loose the robbers on Israel? Wasn't it God himself, this God against whom we've sinned— not doing what he commanded, not listening to what he said? Isn't it God's anger that's behind all this, God's punishing power? Their whole world collapsed but they still didn't get it; their life is in ruins but they don't take it to heart.

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?"

This is what God says, the God who builds a road right through the ocean, who carves a path through pounding waves, The God who summons horses and chariots and armies— they lie down and then can't get up; they're snuffed out like so many candles: "Forget about what's happened; don't keep going over old history. Be alert, be present. I'm about to do something brand-new. It's bursting out! Don't you see it? There it is! I'm making a road through the desert, rivers in the badlands. Wild animals will say ‘Thank you!' —the coyotes and the buzzards— Because I provided water in the desert, rivers through the sun-baked earth, Drinking water for the people I chose, the people I made especially for myself, a people custom-made to praise me.

"But for now, dear servant Jacob, listen— yes, you, Israel, my personal choice. God who made you has something to say to you; the God who formed you in the womb wants to help you. Don't be afraid, dear servant Jacob, Jeshurun, the one I chose. For I will pour water on the thirsty ground and send streams coursing through the parched earth. I will pour my Spirit into your descendants and my blessing on your children. They shall sprout like grass on the prairie, like willows alongside creeks. This one will say, ‘I am God 's,' and another will go by the name Jacob; That one will write on his hand ‘ God 's property'— and be proud to be called Israel."

All those who make no-god idols don't amount to a thing, and what they work so hard at making is nothing. Their little puppet-gods see nothing and know nothing—they're total embarrassments! Who would bother making gods that can't do anything, that can't "god"? Watch all the no-god worshipers hide their faces in shame. Watch the no-god makers slink off humiliated when their idols fail them. Get them out here in the open. Make them face God-reality.

Pretty stupid, wouldn't you say? Don't they have eyes in their heads? Are their brains working at all? Doesn't it occur to them to say, "Half of this tree I used for firewood: I baked bread, roasted meat, and enjoyed a good meal. And now I've used the rest to make an abominable no-god. Here I am praying to a stick of wood!"

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 !

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 !

"So to whom will you compare me, the Incomparable? Can you picture me without reducing me? People with a lot of money hire craftsmen to make them gods. The artisan delivers the god, and they kneel and worship it! They carry it around in holy parades, then take it home and put it on a shelf. And there it sits, day in and day out, a dependable god, always right where you put it. Say anything you want to it, it never talks back. Of course, it never does anything either!

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!