Isaiah 40
I have fond memories of my first real encounter with Isaiah 40. I was in college and still a very young Christian. But I was being taught the truths of the Bible. And so, certain portions of the Scriptures stood out to me. One reason they did was that they revealed the beauty of a very impressive God. I wasn't impressed with God very much before this time. But I began to be. Isaiah 40 is one of those portions that revealed this impressive God to me. What a vision of God! This was someone that I could worship. It was quite the antidote to the anemic God I had known before. And I think that this was Isaiah's goal. He wanted the people to be amazed by a powerful vision of an impressive God.
However, Isaiah did not have me in mind when he wrote this. To appreciate who his intended audience was you need to understand some things about this book of the Bible. Isaiah was sent by God to a very rebellious people. He was sent to proclaim God's coming judgment on Israel, His people. So, the first section of his book is, for the most part, doom and gloom. There are exceptions but that's the main theme: God's justice is coming to a rebellious people, Israel. 'Then Isaiah said to Hezekiah, "Hear the word of the Lord of hosts: Behold, the days are coming, when all that is in your house, and that which your fathers have stored up till this day, shall be carried to Babylon. Nothing shall be left, says the Lord. And some of your own sons, who will come from you, whom you will father, shall be taken away, and they shall be eunuchs in the palace of the king of Babylon."' Isaiah preached that justice would come.
Once we begin chapter 40, though, Isaiah is no longer preaching to his contemporaries. No, he directs his words to a future generation. He writes for the sake of those who would later experience this promised justice. He writes for those who would become exiles. The armies of Babylon came, as promised. They conquered Israel and emptied Jerusalem. As a result, they removed much of the populace of Israel. Daniel and his friends were among these exiles in Babylon. These are the same exiles who were exhorted by another prophet of God, Jeremiah. 'Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat their produce. Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease. But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare. ... For thus says the Lord: When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will visit you, and I will fulfill to you my promise and bring you back to this place. For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.' And so, the exiles would settle in and work and pray for the welfare of this other city, Babylon. And after a time, they enjoyed a measure of good. There had been marriages and births. They had worked and had succeeded. Life wasn't all that bad. And yet, Babylon was not Jerusalem. So, we find Daniel in this city of exile, opening his windows that he might pray facing toward Jerusalem – the city of God, the city of his heritage, the city that was home. And Daniel prayed that his God would keep the promise He had made to return His people from exile. Babylon was fine. There was much for Daniel to do and to enjoy there. But Babylon was not Jerusalem. For Daniel, the exile, Babylon was not home.
Isaiah anticipates all this. And he has a message, our text, to encourage the exiles. It is a message of comfort to the people of God. 'Comfort, comfort my people, says your God.' This message has a promise that there would be a return, a new exodus from a this latter-day Egypt into the wilderness and then into the Promised Land. 'A voice cries: "In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our God.' And this will certainly come about. The people can rest assured. And why? Their God has given His Word which cannot fail. 'The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever.' And this God is the very impressive God who can do anything. 'Behold, the Lord God comes with might, and his arm rules for him.' And then, as a last section of the chapter, Isaiah anticipates how these displaced people will feel after a few generations of exile in Babylon. 'Why do you say, O Jacob, and speak, O Israel, "My way is hidden from the Lord, and my right is disregarded by my God"?' And to this Isaiah answers, 'He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength.' Isaiah 40, words of comfort and hope to exiles.
Though Isaiah wrote these words with those Israelites in mind, what he wrote is for our benefit also. It speaks to us because we also are exiles. The problem has always been about exile from God. Back to the beginning. What was the result of Adam and Eve's sin? They were kicked out of the Garden. Exile. Do you remember Psalm 42? 'As a deer pants for flowing streams, so pants my soul for you, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When shall I come and appear before God?' What's the Psalmist talking about? Exile. What was the punishment of Israel's rebellious sin? Exile. This has always been the problem. What makes this even clearer is that the Gospel writers applied words from Isaiah 40 to John the Baptist. Remember, he was one 'crying in the wilderness'. That means that John's ministry was to exiles, even though the people he preached to were not in Babylon but in Jerusalem. John the Baptist prepared the way for the Lord who would come to restore exiles to their true home. Jesus is the impressive God who comes, as He had promised, to bring back the exiles – us.
We see this same theme reflected in some other places in the New Testament. First, from the Apostle Paul: 'But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.' If our citizenship is in heaven what are we doing here? Exile. And then something from the Apostle John. How does he describe the beginning of the age to come? 'And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God.' What is this but no more exile. We are returned home, to our true home, the new Jerusalem, the heavenly city of God.
The thing I want you to get is this: we are exiles. We live in our own Babylon and not in the city of God. It's important that you get this because it explains oh so much of what happens with us. We are exiles.
Now, understand. Daniel's Babylon was a nice place. There probably was no finer city in all of that empire. The prayers for its welfare were bearing good fruit. But every thing there was – well, it was Babylonian. There was always that little reminder that something was not quite right, that it was after all a foreign city, a city of exile. Likewise, our Babylon is a nice place. There is much good to enjoy. But, everything here also has that little reminder that something is not quite right. We live, after all, in a fallen city. So, even the best things are touched by that reminder. Great vacations come to an end, and it's back to the real world. Close and loving relationships hit those little bumps, resulting in conflict of some sort. And sometimes it's just a vague notion, a feeling of – something. We feel the fact of our exile. We feel it every day. The problem, though, is that we don't label those things in terms of exile. Instead, we provide an excuse by telling ourselves, 'Well, what are you going to do? Life's like that.' Yes, life in exile is like that but not life at home. So, you feel the distance from others – others you should not feel any distance from. You might even use the 'L' word to describe how you feel: 'lonely'. The hopes that you had just aren't happening. 'Well, what are you going to do? Life's like that.' And we give the same excuse for other like experiences. 'Well, what are you going to do? Life's like that.' These are problems of exile. And we would do well to understand them as such.
There are times, though, when the excuse of expecting too much from life doesn't help anymore. Disappointment is replaced by a sense of weariness. Isaiah anticipated this. He puts these words in the mouth of the exiles. 'My way is hidden from the Lord, and my right is disregarded by my God.' These are words about neglect and injustice. And it is God who neglects us, and it is because of Him that we experience injustice – or at least that's how it feels. We don't usually use this kind of language. Instead, when that weariness hits, we tell ourselves that dealing with life is up to us, and it's too much to handle – Isn't that the feeling of being neglected? – and that what is going on with us just isn't right – Isn't that a sense of injustice? We feel what we do because we are exiles in a foreign city far from home.
There are a couple of ways that people deal with this. First, some try to imagine this to be home. Babylon is home. There is no Jerusalem. These people do their best to make this feel like home. Having a bit of money helps. That way a person can enjoy more of Babylon, more of its toys, more of the fun things it offers, more ways to be convinced that Babylon isn't all that bad. But the problems don't go away. They remain. And every once in a while, when his plan isn't doing so well, this person hears himself say, 'Well, what are you going to do? Life's like that.' Then, there's the alternative of just trying to keep Babylon out. Here, think monastery. 'Babylon is on the other side of the wall. But we're safe in here. In here, there's sense of no exile.' What is that but trying to create a little enclave to hide from what is really going on.
But these sorts of alternatives don't work. They try to deny a truth. We are not home. We are in exile – an exile that too often feels like neglect and injustice. And that is hard. And it is wearying. So, what are we to do? Something from Paul. 'For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me. Yet which I shall choose I cannot tell. I am hard pressed between the two. My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better.' Paul is in exile, and he knows it. And he knows where home is. 'To die is gain.' Paul knows that to depart from this life is far better because then he will be with Jesus. Then, he will be home. No more exile. Paul wants to die. But that isn't his last word on this. 'My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better. But to remain in the flesh is more necessary on your account. Convinced of this, I know that I will remain and continue with you all, for your progress and joy in the faith.' Paul opts to stay in Babylon, away from home. And he opts for that for the sake of the saints. 'But to remain in the flesh is more necessary on your account.' Paul loves the saints. And as a result, he experiences neglect – or what feels like it – as well as injustice. Remember where Paul was when he wrote this letter. He was in some foul prison. But he is content to remain in exile for the sake of the saints. In this Paul is simply imitating Jesus who voluntarily exiled Himself for our sake first at His birth and then most especially at the Cross.
This explains what we are to do. We live in exile, in Babylon. Exile feels like neglect and injustice. It is wearying. But we do not run from these things or try to hide from them. We endure them for the good of our fellow exiles – for their progress and joy in the faith – for as long as Jesus wants.
But it costs. And that's why the closing promise of our text is so precious.
'Why do you say, O Jacob, and speak, O Israel, "My way is hidden from the Lord, and my right is disregarded by my God"? Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength. Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.'
We are exiles. That defines our situation in Babylon. We are exiles, and we are waiting for our Lord. It is only when He returns that the exile will be over, completely over. Then, we will be returned to our true home. But while we wait, we seek the welfare of our Babylon. At the heart of that is the Gospel. Our goal is not merely to make the best of a bad situation. It isn't even to try to get lot of people forgiven of their sins. Our goal is to change the world. And we start that by caring for each other. But changing the world is hard. Dealing with the sense of neglect and the injustice that is part of this is wearying. Some of you have jobs that abuse and frustrate. We all have bodies that bit by bit wear out and don't work nearly as well as they are supposed to. There's the silent indictment of that pile of laundry. Temptations await us. And death, though conquered, still does its ugly work of bereavement. Neglect and injustice. And it is wearying. But that is why we have this promise. Those who are exiles, who strive to follow Jesus in this Babylon – these live with one eye on the city of man, seeking its welfare, but with the other these watch the horizon eagerly waiting for Jesus to show up to take us home. These will be blessed by the Spirit. They will be given new strength. They will soar like eagles. And, as a result, they will be able to run and run and run for Jesus and never give up.
I have fond memories of my first real encounter with Isaiah 40. I was in college and still a very young Christian. But I was being taught the truths of the Bible. And so, certain portions of the Scriptures stood out to me. One reason they did was that they revealed the beauty of a very impressive God. I wasn't impressed with God very much before this time. But I began to be. Isaiah 40 is one of those portions that revealed this impressive God to me. What a vision of God! This was someone that I could worship. It was quite the antidote to the anemic God I had known before. And I think that this was Isaiah's goal. He wanted the people to be amazed by a powerful vision of an impressive God.
However, Isaiah did not have me in mind when he wrote this. To appreciate who his intended audience was you need to understand some things about this book of the Bible. Isaiah was sent by God to a very rebellious people. He was sent to proclaim God's coming judgment on Israel, His people. So, the first section of his book is, for the most part, doom and gloom. There are exceptions but that's the main theme: God's justice is coming to a rebellious people, Israel. 'Then Isaiah said to Hezekiah, "Hear the word of the Lord of hosts: Behold, the days are coming, when all that is in your house, and that which your fathers have stored up till this day, shall be carried to Babylon. Nothing shall be left, says the Lord. And some of your own sons, who will come from you, whom you will father, shall be taken away, and they shall be eunuchs in the palace of the king of Babylon."' Isaiah preached that justice would come.
Once we begin chapter 40, though, Isaiah is no longer preaching to his contemporaries. No, he directs his words to a future generation. He writes for the sake of those who would later experience this promised justice. He writes for those who would become exiles. The armies of Babylon came, as promised. They conquered Israel and emptied Jerusalem. As a result, they removed much of the populace of Israel. Daniel and his friends were among these exiles in Babylon. These are the same exiles who were exhorted by another prophet of God, Jeremiah. 'Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat their produce. Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease. But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare. ... For thus says the Lord: When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will visit you, and I will fulfill to you my promise and bring you back to this place. For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.' And so, the exiles would settle in and work and pray for the welfare of this other city, Babylon. And after a time, they enjoyed a measure of good. There had been marriages and births. They had worked and had succeeded. Life wasn't all that bad. And yet, Babylon was not Jerusalem. So, we find Daniel in this city of exile, opening his windows that he might pray facing toward Jerusalem – the city of God, the city of his heritage, the city that was home. And Daniel prayed that his God would keep the promise He had made to return His people from exile. Babylon was fine. There was much for Daniel to do and to enjoy there. But Babylon was not Jerusalem. For Daniel, the exile, Babylon was not home.
Isaiah anticipates all this. And he has a message, our text, to encourage the exiles. It is a message of comfort to the people of God. 'Comfort, comfort my people, says your God.' This message has a promise that there would be a return, a new exodus from a this latter-day Egypt into the wilderness and then into the Promised Land. 'A voice cries: "In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our God.' And this will certainly come about. The people can rest assured. And why? Their God has given His Word which cannot fail. 'The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever.' And this God is the very impressive God who can do anything. 'Behold, the Lord God comes with might, and his arm rules for him.' And then, as a last section of the chapter, Isaiah anticipates how these displaced people will feel after a few generations of exile in Babylon. 'Why do you say, O Jacob, and speak, O Israel, "My way is hidden from the Lord, and my right is disregarded by my God"?' And to this Isaiah answers, 'He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength.' Isaiah 40, words of comfort and hope to exiles.
Though Isaiah wrote these words with those Israelites in mind, what he wrote is for our benefit also. It speaks to us because we also are exiles. The problem has always been about exile from God. Back to the beginning. What was the result of Adam and Eve's sin? They were kicked out of the Garden. Exile. Do you remember Psalm 42? 'As a deer pants for flowing streams, so pants my soul for you, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When shall I come and appear before God?' What's the Psalmist talking about? Exile. What was the punishment of Israel's rebellious sin? Exile. This has always been the problem. What makes this even clearer is that the Gospel writers applied words from Isaiah 40 to John the Baptist. Remember, he was one 'crying in the wilderness'. That means that John's ministry was to exiles, even though the people he preached to were not in Babylon but in Jerusalem. John the Baptist prepared the way for the Lord who would come to restore exiles to their true home. Jesus is the impressive God who comes, as He had promised, to bring back the exiles – us.
We see this same theme reflected in some other places in the New Testament. First, from the Apostle Paul: 'But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.' If our citizenship is in heaven what are we doing here? Exile. And then something from the Apostle John. How does he describe the beginning of the age to come? 'And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God.' What is this but no more exile. We are returned home, to our true home, the new Jerusalem, the heavenly city of God.
The thing I want you to get is this: we are exiles. We live in our own Babylon and not in the city of God. It's important that you get this because it explains oh so much of what happens with us. We are exiles.
Now, understand. Daniel's Babylon was a nice place. There probably was no finer city in all of that empire. The prayers for its welfare were bearing good fruit. But every thing there was – well, it was Babylonian. There was always that little reminder that something was not quite right, that it was after all a foreign city, a city of exile. Likewise, our Babylon is a nice place. There is much good to enjoy. But, everything here also has that little reminder that something is not quite right. We live, after all, in a fallen city. So, even the best things are touched by that reminder. Great vacations come to an end, and it's back to the real world. Close and loving relationships hit those little bumps, resulting in conflict of some sort. And sometimes it's just a vague notion, a feeling of – something. We feel the fact of our exile. We feel it every day. The problem, though, is that we don't label those things in terms of exile. Instead, we provide an excuse by telling ourselves, 'Well, what are you going to do? Life's like that.' Yes, life in exile is like that but not life at home. So, you feel the distance from others – others you should not feel any distance from. You might even use the 'L' word to describe how you feel: 'lonely'. The hopes that you had just aren't happening. 'Well, what are you going to do? Life's like that.' And we give the same excuse for other like experiences. 'Well, what are you going to do? Life's like that.' These are problems of exile. And we would do well to understand them as such.
There are times, though, when the excuse of expecting too much from life doesn't help anymore. Disappointment is replaced by a sense of weariness. Isaiah anticipated this. He puts these words in the mouth of the exiles. 'My way is hidden from the Lord, and my right is disregarded by my God.' These are words about neglect and injustice. And it is God who neglects us, and it is because of Him that we experience injustice – or at least that's how it feels. We don't usually use this kind of language. Instead, when that weariness hits, we tell ourselves that dealing with life is up to us, and it's too much to handle – Isn't that the feeling of being neglected? – and that what is going on with us just isn't right – Isn't that a sense of injustice? We feel what we do because we are exiles in a foreign city far from home.
There are a couple of ways that people deal with this. First, some try to imagine this to be home. Babylon is home. There is no Jerusalem. These people do their best to make this feel like home. Having a bit of money helps. That way a person can enjoy more of Babylon, more of its toys, more of the fun things it offers, more ways to be convinced that Babylon isn't all that bad. But the problems don't go away. They remain. And every once in a while, when his plan isn't doing so well, this person hears himself say, 'Well, what are you going to do? Life's like that.' Then, there's the alternative of just trying to keep Babylon out. Here, think monastery. 'Babylon is on the other side of the wall. But we're safe in here. In here, there's sense of no exile.' What is that but trying to create a little enclave to hide from what is really going on.
But these sorts of alternatives don't work. They try to deny a truth. We are not home. We are in exile – an exile that too often feels like neglect and injustice. And that is hard. And it is wearying. So, what are we to do? Something from Paul. 'For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me. Yet which I shall choose I cannot tell. I am hard pressed between the two. My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better.' Paul is in exile, and he knows it. And he knows where home is. 'To die is gain.' Paul knows that to depart from this life is far better because then he will be with Jesus. Then, he will be home. No more exile. Paul wants to die. But that isn't his last word on this. 'My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better. But to remain in the flesh is more necessary on your account. Convinced of this, I know that I will remain and continue with you all, for your progress and joy in the faith.' Paul opts to stay in Babylon, away from home. And he opts for that for the sake of the saints. 'But to remain in the flesh is more necessary on your account.' Paul loves the saints. And as a result, he experiences neglect – or what feels like it – as well as injustice. Remember where Paul was when he wrote this letter. He was in some foul prison. But he is content to remain in exile for the sake of the saints. In this Paul is simply imitating Jesus who voluntarily exiled Himself for our sake first at His birth and then most especially at the Cross.
This explains what we are to do. We live in exile, in Babylon. Exile feels like neglect and injustice. It is wearying. But we do not run from these things or try to hide from them. We endure them for the good of our fellow exiles – for their progress and joy in the faith – for as long as Jesus wants.
But it costs. And that's why the closing promise of our text is so precious.
'Why do you say, O Jacob, and speak, O Israel, "My way is hidden from the Lord, and my right is disregarded by my God"? Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength. Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.'
We are exiles. That defines our situation in Babylon. We are exiles, and we are waiting for our Lord. It is only when He returns that the exile will be over, completely over. Then, we will be returned to our true home. But while we wait, we seek the welfare of our Babylon. At the heart of that is the Gospel. Our goal is not merely to make the best of a bad situation. It isn't even to try to get lot of people forgiven of their sins. Our goal is to change the world. And we start that by caring for each other. But changing the world is hard. Dealing with the sense of neglect and the injustice that is part of this is wearying. Some of you have jobs that abuse and frustrate. We all have bodies that bit by bit wear out and don't work nearly as well as they are supposed to. There's the silent indictment of that pile of laundry. Temptations await us. And death, though conquered, still does its ugly work of bereavement. Neglect and injustice. And it is wearying. But that is why we have this promise. Those who are exiles, who strive to follow Jesus in this Babylon – these live with one eye on the city of man, seeking its welfare, but with the other these watch the horizon eagerly waiting for Jesus to show up to take us home. These will be blessed by the Spirit. They will be given new strength. They will soar like eagles. And, as a result, they will be able to run and run and run for Jesus and never give up.
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