In Rehoboam’s fifth year, because he and the people were unfaithful to God, Shishak king of Egypt invaded as far as Jerusalem. He came with twelve hundred chariots and sixty thousand cavalry, and soldiers from all over—the Egyptian army included Libyans, Sukkites, and Ethiopians. They took the fortress cities of Judah and advanced as far as Jerusalem itself.
Isaiah 63:10The MessageBut they turned on him; they grieved his Holy Spirit. So he turned on them, became their enemy and fought them. See the chapter |
48 Cross References
But then they mutinied, rebelled against you, threw out your laws and killed your prophets, The very prophets who tried to get them back on your side— and then things went from bad to worse. You turned them over to their enemies, who made life rough for them. But when they called out for help in their troubles you listened from heaven; And in keeping with your bottomless compassion you gave them saviors: Saviors who saved them from the cruel abuse of their enemies. But as soon as they had it easy again they were right back at it—more evil. So you turned away and left them again to their fate, to the enemies who came right back. They cried out to you again; in your great compassion you heard and helped them again. This went on over and over and over. You warned them to return to your Revelation, they responded with haughty arrogance: They brushed off your commands, spurned your rules —the very words by which men and women live! They set their jaws in defiance, they turned their backs on you and didn’t listen. You put up with them year after year and warned them by your spirit through your prophets; But when they refused to listen you abandoned them to foreigners. Still, because of your great compassion, you didn’t make a total end to them. You didn’t walk out and leave them for good; yes, you are a God of grace and compassion.
All they did was sin even more, rebel in the desert against the High God. They tried to get their own way with God, clamored for favors, for special attention. They whined like spoiled children, “Why can’t God give us a decent meal in this desert? Sure, he struck the rock and the water flowed, creeks cascaded from the rock. But how about some fresh-baked bread? How about a nice cut of meat?”
When God heard that, he was furious— his anger flared against Jacob, he lost his temper with Israel. It was clear they didn’t believe God, had no intention of trusting in his help. But God helped them anyway, commanded the clouds and gave orders that opened the gates of heaven. He rained down showers of manna to eat, he gave them the Bread of Heaven. They ate the bread of the mighty angels; he sent them all the food they could eat. He let East Wind break loose from the skies, gave a strong push to South Wind. This time it was birds that rained down— succulent birds, an abundance of birds. He aimed them right for the center of their camp; all round their tents there were birds. They ate and had their fill; he handed them everything they craved on a platter. But their greed knew no bounds; they stuffed their mouths with more and more. Finally, God was fed up, his anger erupted— he cut down their brightest and best, he laid low Israel’s finest young men.
But they kept on giving him a hard time, rebelled against God, the High God, refused to do anything he told them. They were worse, if that’s possible, than their parents: traitors—crooked as a corkscrew. Their pagan orgies provoked God’s anger, their obscene idolatries broke his heart. When God heard their carryings-on, he was furious; he posted a huge No over Israel. He walked off and left Shiloh empty, abandoned the shrine where he had met with Israel. He let his pride and joy go to the dogs, turned his back on the pride of his life. He turned them loose on fields of battle; angry, he let them fend for themselves. Their young men went to war and never came back; their young women waited in vain. Their priests were massacred, and their widows never shed a tear.
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.
Then they remembered the old days, the days of Moses, God’s servant: “Where is he who brought the shepherds of his flock up and out of the sea? And what happened to the One who set his Holy Spirit within them? Who linked his arm with Moses’ right arm, divided the waters before them, Making him famous ever after, and led them through the muddy abyss as surefooted as horses on hard, level ground? Like a herd of cattle led to pasture, the Spirit of God gave them rest.”
He said, “Son of man, I’m sending you to the family of Israel, a rebellious nation if there ever was one. They and their ancestors have fomented rebellion right up to the present. They’re a hard case, these people to whom I’m sending you—hardened in their sin. Tell them, ‘This is the Message of God, the Master.’ They are a defiant bunch. Whether or not they listen, at least they’ll know that a prophet’s been here. But don’t be afraid of them, son of man, and don’t be afraid of anything they say. Don’t be afraid when living among them is like stepping on thorns or finding scorpions in your bed. Don’t be afraid of their mean words or their hard looks. They’re a bunch of rebels. Your job is to speak to them. Whether they listen is not your concern. They’re hardened rebels.
“‘But Israel rebelled against me in the desert. They didn’t follow my statutes. They despised my laws for living well and obediently in the ways I had set out. And they totally desecrated my holy Sabbaths. I seriously considered unleashing my anger on them right there in the desert. But I thought better of it and acted out of who I was, not by what I felt, so that I might be honored and not blasphemed by the nations who had seen me bring them out. But I did lift my hand in a solemn oath there in the desert and promise them that I would not bring them into the country flowing with milk and honey that I had chosen for them, that jewel among all lands. I canceled my promise because they despised my laws for living obediently, wouldn’t follow my statutes, and went ahead and desecrated my holy Sabbaths. They preferred living by their no-god idols. But I didn’t go all the way: I didn’t wipe them out, didn’t finish them off in the desert.
“‘But the children also rebelled against me. They neither followed my statutes nor kept my laws for living upright and well. And they desecrated my Sabbaths. I seriously considered dumping my anger on them, right there in the desert. But I thought better of it and acted out of who I was, not by what I felt, so that I might be honored and not blasphemed by the nations who had seen me bring them out.
“‘But they rebelled against me, wouldn’t listen to a word I said. None got rid of the vile things they were addicted to. They held on to the no-gods of Egypt as if for dear life. I seriously considered inflicting my anger on them in force right there in Egypt. Then I thought better of it. I acted out of who I was, not by how I felt. And I acted in a way that would evoke honor, not blasphemy, from the nations around them, nations who had seen me reveal myself by promising to lead my people out of Egypt. And then I did it: I led them out of Egypt into the desert.
“God wasn’t at all pleased; but he let them do it their way, worship every new god that came down the pike—and live with the consequences, consequences described by the prophet Amos: Did you bring me offerings of animals and grains those forty wilderness years, O Israel? Hardly. You were too busy building shrines to war gods, to sex goddesses, Worshiping them with all your might. That’s why I put you in exile in Babylon.
“And you continue, so bullheaded! Calluses on your hearts, flaps on your ears! Deliberately ignoring the Holy Spirit, you’re just like your ancestors. Was there ever a prophet who didn’t get the same treatment? Your ancestors killed anyone who dared talk about the coming of the Just One. And you’ve kept up the family tradition—traitors and murderers, all of you. You had God’s Law handed to you by angels—gift-wrapped!—and you squandered it!”
But then you weren’t willing to go up. You rebelled against God, your God’s plain word. You complained in your tents: “God hates us. He hauled us out of Egypt in order to dump us among the Amorites—a death sentence for sure! How can we go up? We’re trapped in a dead end. Our brothers took all the wind out of our sails, telling us, ‘The people are bigger and stronger than we are; their cities are huge, their defenses massive—we even saw Anakite giants there!’”
They went to the Reubenites, Gadites, and the half-tribe of Manasseh and spoke to them: “The entire congregation of God wants to know: What is this violation against the God of Israel that you have committed, turning your back on God and building your own altar—a blatant act of rebellion against God? Wasn’t the crime of Peor enough for us? Why, to this day we aren’t rid of it, still living with the fallout of the plague on the congregation of God! Look at you—turning your back on God! If you rebel against God today, tomorrow he’ll vent his anger on all of us, the entire congregation of Israel.
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