Remember. Return. Redeemed!

Isaiah: Yahweh Alone Is God – Week 5

by Jon Morales

Resources

by Jon Morales

Resources

Introduction

Obsession. What is obsession? My dog’s fascination with food. You know it when you see it.

Young love tends to be obsessive. The scientist in search of a discovery. Thomas Edison, famously, said, I have not failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work. Are you grateful for electricity? You have Edison’s obsession to thank.

What is obsession? It’s when a person locks in on an idea, pursuit, or person and that thing becomes the passion of their lives. I’ve known athletes and dancers who put their bodies through excruciating rigor in pursuit of perfection. If they’re sick, they won’t stop. If they’re tired, they won’t stop.

Nothing gets between them and the object of their obsession.

There’s another word for obsession: worship.

“Worship” is a more religious word than “obsession,” and the words do not overlap entirely, but they share in common an all-consuming passion. Both words get at what ignites the heart, what makes it burn.

Everyone worships. Everyone is obsessed with something or someone.

We don’t need the Bible to worship; we do that naturally. We need the Bible to worship correctly—because you and I naturally worship the wrong thing. That’s certainly what we’re going to see in Isaiah today. Even Israel, who were God’s people, worshiped the wrong thing.

Even as God comes to the exiles with a new word for a new day, he warns them of the things that stand in the way but also comforts them with his response to their wrong and misguided obsession.

Remember that last week we finished with God saying, Forget the former things; do not dwell in the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Let’s look at the warning and the comfort, so that we do not miss God’s new thing.

Empty worship and forgiveness.

Isaiah 43:22–24

“Yet you have not called on me, Jacob, you have not wearied yourselves for me, Israel.

You have not brought me sheep for burnt offerings, nor honored me with your sacrifices. I have not burdened you with grain offerings nor wearied you with demands for incense.

You have not bought any fragrant calamus for me, or lavished on me the fat of your sacrifices. But you have burdened me with your sins and wearied me with your offenses.

Reading the prophets can feel quite disorienting because they make points and arguments, but they don’t feel the need to move in a straight line. They can move from a place of hope back to a place of failure. You can think, I thought we had moved beyond this. But that’s not the case, because through the prophet God is awakening true worship in his people, and for there to be true worship, there must be an honest recognition of our failure, and that’s not a one-time thing.

In this passage, Isaiah goes back to the problem of empty worship. In the Law God had prescribed an array of sacrifices (burnt offerings, grain offerings, peace offerings, and so on). The sacrifices were costly. They were representative and symbolic. They symbolized the place God occupied in the people’s lives. The best of your flocks, the best of your fields, went to God. I give you my best. That’s what the sacrifice said.

It’s not too dissimilar to the function an engagement ring serves today. At one level, people could say and do say, What a waste! That ring is not doing anything on that finger. But at another level, that ring is doing a lot on that finger. It’s a sacrifice. It’s a symbol. It’s a demonstration of love. It’s the man saying, This ring is valuable. It cost me a pretty penny. But it’s only a token compared to the size of my love for you. That’s what the sacrifices were meant to convey when an Israelite offered them to God.

The sacrifices also symbolized the costliness and evil of sin. An animal lost its life because I sinned. They were also meant for celebrations and feasts and were a vital part of Israel’s communal life and of their covenant with God.

There was, however, always the possibility of a disconnect between the thing offered (the sacrifice) and the worshiper’s heart.

My wife Anna and I celebrated our 25th anniversary a couple of weeks ago. It’s been an incredible journey! I am amazed at the goodness of God to us, and her faithfulness and patience toward me.

That engagement ring has been on her finger 25 years and six months. That’s a long time. And the question is, Is the love that the ring symbolized then still alive today? OR, Is there a disconnect between the symbol (the ring) and my love? I praise God that the answer to the first question is Yes, and No to the second. Yes, my love is still alive. No, there is no disconnect between the symbol and my love. In fact, my love for her has only increased, so anytime we look at the ring (and we look at it a lot cuz it’s so visible) the feeling is all the sweeter.

But you see where this is going, right? For Israel, there was perennially a disconnect between the symbol (the sacrifices) and their heart for God. And Isaiah was constantly bringing the people face to face with this uncomfortable reality.

It’s how the whole book opens. Isaiah opens with a punch.

Isaiah 1:10–15

Hear the word of the Lord, you rulers of Sodom; listen to the instruction of our God, you people of Gomorrah!

[He’s addressing Israel like they’re the people of Sodom and Gomorrah, perhaps the most immoral and wicked people in the biblical record.]

“The multitude of your sacrifices—what are they to me?” says the Lord. “I have more than enough of burnt offerings, of rams and the fat of fattened animals; I have no pleasure in the blood of bulls and lambs and goats.

When you come to appear before me, who has asked this of you, this trampling of my courts?

Stop bringing meaningless offerings! Your incense is detestable to me. New Moons, Sabbaths and convocations—I cannot bear your worthless assemblies.

Your New Moon feasts and your appointed festivals I hate with all my being. They have become a burden to me; I am weary of bearing them.

When you spread out your hands in prayer, I hide my eyes from you; even when you offer many prayers, I am not listening.

[Why? Why is God so utterly displeased with his people’s sacrifices?]

Your hands are full of blood!

There was a serious disconnect between the sacrifices and the people’s lives. They were offering them as the Law prescribed, but their hands were full of blood. Their ritual life and their moral life did not match. That was in chapter 1.

Here in chapter 43 God says, To me you have not called, Jacob. He goes on to list the various sacrifices that were offered, but where God is going with this diatribe is, I have not burdened you with grain offerings nor wearied you with demands for incense . . . But you have burdened me with your sins and wearied me with your offenses. It’s a play on words. I’ve not burdened you with sacrifices, but you’ve burdened me with your sins.

Even though they offered all these sacrifices, it was not to God that they offered them. He was not pleased. Their hands were full of blood. There was a disconnect. The whole spectacle was empty.

A few centuries later, another prophet came to Israel, more than a prophet, and he confronted Israel one more time with the words of Isaiah. He said, You hypocrites! Isaiah was right when he prophesied about you: “These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me” (Matt 15:7–8).

Do you see a disconnect between your lips and your heart? Do you honor God with your lips, but your heart is far from him? That would be empty worship.

That was the warning. What’s the comfort?

Isaiah 43:25–28

“I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions, for my own sake, and remembers your sins no more.

Review the past for me, let us argue the matter together; state the case for your innocence.

Your first father sinned; those I sent to teach you rebelled against me.

So I disgraced the dignitaries of your temple; I consigned Jacob to destruction and Israel to scorn.

The comfort is that God is a forgiving God. He says, I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions . . . and remembers your sins no more. It’s because of God’s forgiving character that they are forgiven, not because they’re innocent. He says, Let’s review your past. Are you sure you want to claim that you’re innocent? Your first father sinned. Those I sent to teach you rebelled against me. So what’s the result? I sent you into exile. I disgraced your temple. I consigned you to destruction and scorn. But I’m doing a new thing, and even though this is your history, I am a forgiving God. So I am erasing your transgressions and remembering your sins no more.

Look at how God addresses his people. He confronts them with the truth. You offered me empty worship. You offered sacrifices while your hands were full of blood. You are not innocent. Then he reminds them of the result. I sent you into exile. I disgraced your temple and consigned you to destruction and scorn.But that’s not the end. Then he tells them about his forgiveness. I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions and remembers your sins no more.

How could they go from empty worship to forgiveness? The gracious character of God. He does the same for us.

Dry worship and the Spirit.

Isaiah 44:1–5

“But now listen, Jacob, my servant, Israel, whom I have chosen.

This is what the Lord says—he who made you, who formed you in the womb, and who will help you: Do not be afraid, Jacob, my servant, Jeshurun, whom I have chosen.

For I will pour water on the thirsty land, and streams on the dry ground; I will pour out my Spirit on your offspring, and my blessing on your descendants.

They will spring up like grass in a meadow, like poplar trees by flowing streams.

Some will say, ‘I belong to the Lord’; others will call themselves by the name of Jacob; still others will write on their hand, ‘The Lord’s,’ and will take the name Israel.

Exile is a place of dryness. The prophet speaks of thirsty land, dry ground. It’s very much where the people found themselves. They see themselves as very small and destitute.

It’s hard to grow and do daring things when you’re full of fear.

But now, God says, I will pour water on the thirsty land and streams on the dry ground. That’s the metaphor. What’s the reality? He says, I will pour out my Spirit on your offspring, and my blessing on your descendants.

Far from abandoning them, God promises to pour out his Spirit on their children.

I don’t know if there’s a more powerful promise that a person of faith can receive from the Lord: I will pour out my Spirit on your children. Can you think of one? I can’t. Lord, you’re going to show that kind of favor and love and blessing to my children?! And my children’s children?

Nothing makes a parent’s eyes misty like talking about their children and the hope for their faith. But what they’re really hoping for is Isaiah 44:3. They’re hoping the Lord will pour out his Spirit on them.

Let me encourage you to take this promise to the Lord in prayer. Lord, you said, I will pour out my Spirit on your offspring. Would you please make it so for my Jenny, my Zack, my Steve—and all their offspring?

The result of the outpouring of the Spirit is growth and flourishing.

I love the verb that is used mainly in this section of Isaiah (tsmch). It means to spring up. It’s used twice of the new things God is doing. Isaiah 42:9 See, the former things have taken place, and new things I declare; before they spring into being I announce them to you.

Isaiah 43:19 See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? It’s used also of God’s salvation. Isaiah 45:8 You heavens above, rain down my righteousness; let the clouds shower it down. Let the earth open wide, let salvation spring up, let righteousness flourish with it; I, the LORD, have created it.

Here, it’s used of the health that comes on the descendants, the children, of God’s people as a result of the outpouring of God’s Spirit. Isaiah 44:4 They will spring up like grass in a meadow, like poplar trees by flowing streams.

When all we’ve known is dry worship—ritual and religion with a heart that is far from God and without the Spirit of God energizing it—it’s hard to imagine that there’s a different mode. That things can be better, new. That poplar trees and meadows can spring up from your dry ground and thirsty land.

Of course, the ultimate fulfillment of this promise happened at Pentecost when the Spirit was poured upon all who belong to Jesus. But the question you must ask yourself is, is the new life of God springing up in you, welling up into eternal life? OR, are you dwelling in the former things?

False worship and redemption.

What we see now is a contrast between the Lord God and the idols of the nations. First, look at who the Lord is.

Isaiah 44:6–8

“This is what the Lord says—Israel’s King and Redeemer, the Lord Almighty: I am the first and I am the last; apart from me there is no God.

Who then is like me? Let him proclaim it. Let him declare and lay out before me what has happened since I established my ancient people, and what is yet to come—yes, let them foretell what will come.

Do not tremble, do not be afraid. Did I not proclaim this and foretell it long ago? You are my witnesses. Is there any God besides me? No, there is no other Rock; I know not one.”

The claim that Israel has always made about her God and the claim that the God of the Bible has always made about himself is that there is no other god in the universe.

The nations all had their gods: The Egyptians, Assyrians, Babylonians, Greco-Romans. Many gods for many purposes. Israel was considered odd, weird, for saying that there was only one God. And on top of that weird belief, what they claimed about their God, his character. He’s Israel’s King and Redeemer, the LORD Almighty, the first and the last. But another quality of Israel’s God alone – and this one is a big deal in Isaiah – is that he announces ahead of time what is yet to come.

Not only does God know the end from the beginning; he announces it. This is why Isaiah announces the exile, which was still some 100 years in the future, and – even more radical – he announces the return from exile, which no nation had ever been brought back and reconfigured after exile. But that, God says, that foretelling of the future is part of what it means that he alone is God, in contrast to the nations’ idols who can’t see or hear or speak.

Next, we read a long section where idolatry is exposed for what it truly is. Its futility is exposed, but also the people’s fascination with it is exposed.

Isaiah 44:9–20

All who make idols are nothing, and the things they treasure are worthless. Those who would speak up for them are blind; they are ignorant, to their own shame.

Who shapes a god and casts an idol, which can profit nothing?

People who do that will be put to shame; such craftsmen are only human beings. Let them all come together and take their stand; they will be brought down to terror and shame.

The blacksmith takes a tool and works with it in the coals; he shapes an idol with hammers, he forges it with the might of his arm. He gets hungry and loses his strength; he drinks no water and grows faint.

The carpenter measures with a line and makes an outline with a marker; he roughs it out with chisels and marks it with compasses. He shapes it in human form, human form in all its glory, that it may dwell in a shrine.

He cut down cedars, or perhaps took a cypress or oak. He let it grow among the trees of the forest, or planted a pine, and the rain made it grow.

It is used as fuel for burning; some of it he takes and warms himself, he kindles a fire and bakes bread. But he also fashions a god and worships it; he makes an idol and bows down to it.

Half of the wood he burns in the fire; over it he prepares his meal, he roasts his meat and eats his fill. He also warms himself and says, “Ah! I am warm; I see the fire.”

From the rest he makes a god, his idol; he bows down to it and worships. He prays to it and says, “Save me! You are my god!”

They know nothing, they understand nothing; their eyes are plastered over so they cannot see, and their minds closed so they cannot understand.

No one stops to think, no one has the knowledge or understanding to say, “Half of it I used for fuel; I even baked bread over its coals, I roasted meat and I ate. Shall I make a detestable thing from what is left? Shall I bow down to a block of wood?”

Such a person feeds on ashes; a deluded heart misleads him; he cannot save himself, or say, “Is not this thing in my right hand a lie?”

Nothing. Worthless. Blind. Ignorant. Such are the idols and those who make them. And the result is shame. Terror and shame. I think those two words describe well our culture: terrified and ashamed.

Isaiah is doing an expose of the idol-making industry. The blacksmiths. The carpenters. The whole process. He’s saying, Do you not see? You’re taking the same piece of wood, that you took out of a tree, and using half of it to burn and keep yourself warm, and the other half to fashion into an idol that you bow down to and worship. This is ridiculous. How can you not see it?

The idol-maker sees fire and gets warmth from the block of wood. He says, Ah! I am warm; I see the fire. Which is also why it’s easy for him to then fashion the same material into an idol and say to it, Save me! You are my god! Now, Isaiah is saying, The fact that you used half of it for fuel should make you pause and say, “Shall I bow down to a block of wood?” But it’s precisely because fuel and fire came out of it that makes it easy for the idol-maker to worship it.

It’s our perceived sources of power that tempt us to worship.

Now, before we say, These were primitive people, backwards and stupid, let’s think for a moment. The Egyptians, Assyrians, Babylonians, Greco-Romans – these were the most advanced civilizations in their time. Let’s not be arrogant about our own time in history. If we have technology and culture that we’re proud of, so did they.

But also, don’t we do what they did? What was wood for them? Power. Fuel and fire. So many of the conflicts around the world center on fuel because fuel is power.

We take our sources of power and turn them into idols. The only reason we don’t bow down to images is the Bible’s insistence on not worshiping by means of an image, but as our culture moves further away from biblical religion, people are turning again to worship by means of images.

And we worship images all day long. The social media algorithms may know something about us that we don’t readily admit: they know our idols. So what do the algorithms do? They put in front of us the things we’re obsessed with. They know it’s hard to look away. But, as Isaiah says, we don’t stop to think. We don’t have the knowledge or understanding to say, What am I doing? Why am I obsessed with this person, this thing, this idea?

Our deluded hearts mislead us.

That’s the warning. Where’s the comfort?

Isaiah 44:21–23

“Remember these things, Jacob, for you, Israel, are my servant. I have made you, you are my servant; Israel, I will not forget you.

I have swept away your offenses like a cloud, your sins like the morning mist. Return to me, for I have redeemed you.”

Sing for joy, you heavens, for the Lord has done this; shout aloud, you earth beneath. Burst into song, you mountains, you forests and all your trees, for the Lord has redeemed Jacob, he displays his glory in Israel.

The comfort is:

Remember. Return. Redeemed!

Remember. Return. Redeemed! That’s God’s word of comfort to his people. God says to them, Remember these things, Jacob . . . I have made you.

Whereas humans make idols, God makes Israel. He’s saying to them, You don’t have to make idols. They are futile. Nothing. Worthless. Blind. I make you. That’s the reality you’re to live by. I made you when I called Abraham and made him into a nation, and I will make you again when I take you out of exile, for my glory and because that’s who I am. So remember who you are, and Return to me. I have redeemed you.

God finds us in our empty worship, dry worship and false worship, and—because of who he is—he takes away our sin, pours his Spirit on us, and redeems our lives, makes them new. That is the gospel, the gospel that Isaiah announces to us and Jesus brings to fulfilment by sacrificing his life for us. The gospel is not us offering sacrifices to God. The gospel is God offering the sacrifice of his son for us.

The gospel is not us doing for God, but God doing for us what we could not do for ourselves.

Finally, there was no disconnect between the sacrifice offered and the heart of the worshiper. Finally, Jesus’ sacrifice was not merely symbolic. It was effectual. The animal sacrifices were only symbols. The sacrifice of Jesus’ body was the glorious reality!

I wonder which of these three words is most convicting to you today:

Is your worship empty? Do you offer the externals of religion and even worship God with your lips but your heart is far from him?

Is your worship dry? Is it like dry ground and thirsty land, where you’re not growing, flourishing, springing up in health and vigor like a tree planted by streams of water?

Is your worship false? Have you taken your perceived sources of power (skill, knowledge, approval, affirmation, sex, money) and turned them into idols?

If you have placed faith in Jesus Christ, remember who you are and return to the Lord. You are redeemed. He forgives you by the sacrifice of Jesus Christ, drenches you with his Spirit, and sends you singing for joy, bursting into song.

And if you’ve never given your life to Jesus Christ, the invitation is open to you today. You need only admit your empty, dry, and false obsessions, and turn to the true God. He appointed Jesus Christ to bear your sin, so that he could take it away and you’d bear it no more. You don’t have to be afraid. You don’t have to be ashamed. A new life from God will spring up within you. What are you waiting for?

Remember the cross. Return to the Savior with a broken heart. You are redeemed!