“Do you have any idea how powerful God is? Have you ever heard of a teacher like him? Has anyone ever had to tell him what to do, or correct him, saying, ‘You did that all wrong!’? Remember, then, to praise his workmanship, which is so often celebrated in song. Everybody sees it; nobody is too far away to see it.
Isaiah 48:17The Message
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32 Cross References
You got me when I was an unformed youth, God, and taught me everything I know. Now I’m telling the world your wonders; I’ll keep at it until I’m old and gray. God, don’t walk off and leave me until I get out the news Of your strong right arm to this world, news of your power to the world yet to come, Your famous and righteous ways, O God. God, you’ve done it all! Who is quite like you? You, who made me stare trouble in the face, Turn me around; Now let me look life in the face. I’ve been to the bottom; Bring me up, streaming with honors; turn to me, be tender to me, And I’ll take up the lute and thank you to the tune of your faithfulness, God. I’ll make music for you on a harp, Holy One of Israel. When I open up in song to you, I let out lungsful of praise, my rescued life a song. All day long I’m chanting about you and your righteous ways, While those who tried to do me in slink off looking ashamed.
“Do you feel like a lowly worm, Jacob? Don’t be afraid. Feel like a fragile insect, Israel? I’ll help you. I, God, want to reassure you. The God who buys you back, The Holy of Israel. I’m transforming you from worm to harrow, from insect to iron. As a sharp-toothed harrow you’ll smooth out the mountains, turn those tough old hills into loamy soil. You’ll open the rough ground to the weather, to the blasts of sun and wind and rain. But you’ll be confident and exuberant, expansive in The Holy of Israel!
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 sunbaked earth, Drinking water for the people I chose, the people I made especially for myself, a people custom-made to praise me.
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, Redeemer of Israel, The Holy of Israel, says to the despised one, kicked around by the nations, slave labor to the ruling class: “Kings will see, get to their feet—the princes, too— and then fall on their faces in homage Because of God, who has faithfully kept his word, The Holy of Israel, who has chosen you.”
God’s Message yet again: “Go stand at the crossroads and look around. Ask for directions to the old road, The tried-and-true road. Then take it. Discover the right route for your souls. But they said, ‘Nothing doing. We aren’t going that way.’ I even provided watchmen for them to warn them, to set off the alarm. But the people said, ‘It’s a false alarm. It doesn’t concern us.’ And so I’m calling in the nations as witnesses: ‘Watch, witnesses, what happens to them!’ And, ‘Pay attention, Earth! Don’t miss these bulletins.’ I’m visiting catastrophe on this people, the end result of the games they’ve been playing with me. They’ve ignored everything I’ve said, had nothing but contempt for my teaching. What would I want with incense brought in from Sheba, rare spices from exotic places? Your burnt sacrifices in worship give me no pleasure. Your religious rituals mean nothing to me.”
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