Isaiah's Hope

Someone recently sent this quote along to me: "It is not essential that our self-made plans be brought to pass; it is essential that our hearts be kept in the embrace of of God...all-wise and never failing."

So often when we don't get what we want, we feel abandoned, neglected, isolated, and, in an exaggerated sense, alienated from others and even God.


Scripture addresses us in such circumstances in places like Isaiah 51:12 "I, even I, am he who comforts you." And 51:16, "I have put my words in your mouth and covered you with the shadow of my hand-who set the heavens in place, who laid the foundations of the earth, and who say to Zion, 'You are my people.' "

Those verses from Isaiah are good ones. They fit our lives, in almost any circumstance. Why are they so often so appropriate? It has to do with the background of Isaiah's prophesy.

The people are in exile, or are about to go into exile, and so their alienation, or coming sense of abandonment, is addressed with many many instances of comforting words.

Our greater exile from God's promises (see Ephesians 2:1-4) has been conquered by an even greater restoration through the cross (2:10-11). These kind of tie-ins are what make people suggest that Isaiah ought to be named, "The Gospel According to Isaiah."

The Hope of Heaven

I have friends who love World of Warcraft. It is a massive, online, multi-player game in which you battle monsters and creatures of every imaginable variety. Starting out in the game, you go to carefully screened areas where the monsters are not going to overwhelm you. If you venture out of these "safe zones," you quickly become overpowered and your online character dies.

Being overwhelmed is part of what gets us down and discouraged. If only they were rare! If only we could stay in certain places in life to make sure we couldn't become overwhelmed. There are no such safe zones.

In fact, discouragements in this life are common--daily, even. The psalms meet us in those discouragements and guide our feelings and experiences in the direction of heaven. I was encouraged today, in the midst of some of my own struggles, in reading the twenty seventh psalm.

Here's what I learned. Despite whatever person or situation you are facing, no matter how severe the struggle, God is your light and salvation. You will see Him face to face before you know it. And in the meantime, no matter what has happened, God has not forgotten. Our remedy is to remember THAT. And to dwell on THESE promises: "He will hide me in His shelter in the day of trouble." "I shall be lifted up above my enemies." "I will gaze upon the beauty of the LORD." "God will lead me on a level path." "I will see God's goodness face to face."

Can you relate to this? My discouragements so often come by measuring myself and my situation on things I have experienced, or thoughts of my own mind--rather than by measuring them from God's Word. My friend reminded me today: calibrate your calling starting with Jesus, not from your circumstances!

I agree. Let's measure with God's grace, and from that solid fact, "be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the LORD!"

What was the belief which supported the psalmist? That he should see the goodness of the Lord. There is nothing like the believing hope of eternal life, the foresights of that glory, and foretastes of those pleasures, to keep us from fainting under all calamities. In the mean time he should be strengthened to bear up under his burdens. Let us look unto the suffering Saviour... (Matthew Henry)

Graves of Craving

The Old Testament book of Numbers takes its name from the two censuses that figure prominently in the book. But, in Hebrew, what we call "Numbers" is called "In the Wilderness." Based on all the complaining, rebellion, and sin that the book recounts, it might be appropriate to suggest that "what happens in the wilderness stays in the wilderness."

(Image to the left courtesy of the Yale Library)

But it is not to be the case. What we read in Numbers, as shocking as it is at times, merely reminds us of our own nature to despise God's provision and care when we can't see the end or goal of our faith.

One such example, a startling one, is the Sending of Quail. Apparently, in Numbers 11, the people had become weary of the manna and "complained in the hearing of the LORD about their misfortunes (11:1).

Maybe this is obvious to you, but think about it: if you're going to complain, will you do that "in the hearing of the LORD"? I don't think so!

Anyhow, the people say, "Who will give us meat to eat?" You'd think that a mere change of menu is what they are asking for. But what they say next proves it's not about the Wilderness diet as much as it is the whole, "Following God in the wilderness by faith" idea; they say, "...For it was better for us in Egypt."

Better in Egypt? Better in bondage? Better in slavery? Better under obligation to a tyrant? Better with God having been silent for 400 years? You might as well say, 'I was better off dead.'

And that's what happens. For even though the LORD God promises to feed the meat for a month "till it comes out their noses" (that's literally what God says), He cuts curiously short that plan, and simply strikes down the people with a "very great plague."

As frequently happened, a place got its name in the Old Testament from the major event that took place there. In this case, the place was called Kibroth-hatavaah, because, we're told, "there they buried the people who had the craving."

What does Kibroth-hatavaah mean, you ask? It means "graves of craving."

Graves of Craving. I take this to be an excerpt from the Grand Story of the World, in which we read, both in others and in our own lives, of people going to their graves craving that which kills and destroys. Our appetites refuse to be satisfied with what God provides, and so our cravings take us to our deaths. We get what we craved, and we pay for it with our lives.

Though I've not read the book, I suspect that this is what Tripp means by the subtitle of his book, Addictions, which reads: "A Banquet in the Grave." Feast of death. Dining with the Devil. Selling our souls for bowls of oatmeal, as did Esau.

Will we ever learn?