Through prophetic revelation Isaiah saw God’s unfolding plan. He saw things that stretch to the very end of time, looking far beyond our own. He saw a God who is sovereign over history, over events, rulers and armies, and can dictate the actions of men who know nothing of him; yet become instruments in his hands.
Isaiah’s vision is of a God who doesn’t just know the future, but declares it. He states just what will be, and the chaos of man cannot distract or divert, or derail his plans. Though the unthinkable happens, The Architect of Time is at work — his design and purposes progressing far beyond the years of any man.
Through generations of wickedness, injustice, the relentless pursuit of other gods and their utter refusal to repent, the day of judgement finally comes. Israel’s hands are full of blood, their actions full of evil. Yet for the sake of the world, their redemption cannot be lost. All of heaven and earth are called to attention, for the welfare of the universe is at stake.
And so the Lord, though slow to anger, purifies by fire.
At the hands of foreign powers his people are hunted almost to the point of extinction, captured and taken from their promised land. Their misplaced hope is decimated as they’re plunged into ruin and devastation. The axe is at the foot of the tree and cuts it down to a stump, where just a faithful remnant remains.
But it’s enough.
Enough for renewal.
And enough for recreation.
In the wilderness God speaks, his people finally able to hear. In the demolition of their lives they’ve been pulled apart in every way. They’ve been deconstructed — in a sense, de-created — their hearts examined, their actions weighed, and almost ground back into the very dust from which man was created.
But even in judgement, the Lord longs for mercy. And the flicker of hope is never lost. God breaks them apart precisely so that he can re-form them — recreate them — and bring life in a whole new way.
In the midst of sorrow, as desolation threatens its reign and death encroaches on every side; the winds of comfort begin to blow. They lift our eyes and reveal a God who is beyond compare, whose understanding is unsearchable, who stretches out the heavens like a curtain, yet tends his flock like a sheperd, carrying his lambs in his arms; holding them in his chest, close to his heart.
He is fearcly jealous, yet wonderfully tender.
He is both mighty, yet gentle to his own. And those who set their hope in him will renew their strength. They will mount up wings like eagles. Though the world may crumble around them, their spirits are lifted into the heavens — and the view is breathtaking.
While their world falls apart, Israel’s faith is renewed — sparked back to life by the very flames that purify.
But there’s something more. From the stump of Jesse a shoot appears. A voice cries in the wilderness, and the outline of a figure begins to emerge; of a real person who will come centuries later.
It’s of one who won’t fail, who will do what Israel couldn’t. He will open the eyes of the blind and the ears of the deaf. He will preach good news to the poor and set the captives free. A Wonderful Counselor, a Prince of Peace. He is in fact the one through whom the whole fate of the universe rests; who, in the end, will bring about renewal on a colossal scale — the recreation of both the heavens and the earth.
This is the vision of the prophet Isaiah, in 740 BC — the year that King Uzziah died. His vision is all encompassing, and even in our own time it predicts things yet to come.
Join us as we dive into this incredibly significant book of prophecy; one that reveals our comfort in the unsearchable God, whose ways are beyond our understanding, who is sovereign and sets the boundaries of calamity — yet remains wholly and completely good.