Heaven and earth, you’re the jury. Listen to God’s case: “I had children and raised them well, and they turned on me. The ox knows who’s boss, the mule knows the hand that feeds him, But not Israel. My people don’t know up from down. Shame! Misguided God-dropouts, staggering under their guilt-baggage, Villainous gang, band of vandals— My people have walked out on me, their God, turned their backs on The Holy of Israel, walked off and never looked back.
Isaiah 29:9The MessageDrug 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. See the chapter |
25 Cross References
Doom, Ariel, Ariel, the city where David set camp! Let the years add up, let the festivals run their cycles, But I’m not letting up on Jerusalem. The moaning and groaning will continue. Jerusalem to me is an Ariel. Like David, I’ll set up camp against you. I’ll set siege, build towers, bring in siege engines, build siege ramps. Driven into the ground, you’ll speak, you’ll mumble words from the dirt— Your voice from the ground, like the muttering of a ghost. Your speech will whisper from the dust.
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.
“Then you’ll say, ‘This is what God says: Watch closely. I’m going to fill every person who lives in this country—the kings who rule from David’s throne, the priests, the prophets, the citizens of Jerusalem—with wine that will make them drunk. And then I’ll smash them, smash the wine-filled jugs—old and young alike. Nothing will stop me. Not an ounce of pity or mercy or compassion will slow me down. Every last drunken jug of them will be smashed!’”
“Look around at the godless nations. Look long and hard. Brace yourself for a shock. Something’s about to take place and you’re going to find it hard to believe. I’m about to raise up Babylonians to punish you, Babylonians, fierce and ferocious— World-conquering Babylon, grabbing up nations right and left, A dreadful and terrible people, making up its own rules as it goes. Their horses run like the wind, attack like bloodthirsty wolves. A stampede of galloping horses thunders out of nowhere. They descend like vultures circling in on carrion. They’re out to kill. Death is on their minds. They collect victims like squirrels gathering nuts. They mock kings, poke fun at generals, Spit on forts, and leave them in the dust. They’ll all be blown away by the wind. Brazen in sin, they call strength their god.”
Advertisements