In order to appreciate what follows, we need to pause for a minute to reflect on the probable course of Isaiah’s life in his later years. The last time we hear of him engaged in public ministry is in 701 BC, at the time of Sennacherib’s invasion (chapter 37). By then he would have been about 69 years old. By the time Hezekiah died, three years later, he would have been 72. We can be reasonably sure he lived on for some years after his public preaching ministry had come to an end. As early as 712 BC, about 20 years before his death, he could see that the Babylonian exile was coming (39:5-7). It must have weighed heavily upon him. For most of the following 15 years the more immediate Assyrian crisis demanded his attention and, with the accession of Manasseh and the fierce repression that came with it, it would have been impossible for him to preach at all. The nation and its leaders were no longer willing to listen. It would only be after they have reaped the full consequences of their apostasy that they would become teachable again, and then the word that they would need would not be one of judgment, but of restoration. It is likely therefore, as the movement from 39:5-7 to 40:1-11 implies, that in the latter part of his life Isaiah was called to a new task: to comfort God’s people in words that his disciples would cherish and preserve in the dark days ahead until Israel was at last ready to hear them.

The opening part of chapter 40 is like the overture to a great musical composition. The first thing we hear is three stirring commands, like three trumpet blasts: “Comfort…Speak…Proclaim!” (vv. 1-2). The tone is urgent; it is as though we ourselves are being addressed, first by God Himself (v. 1), and then by the anonymous “voice” that rings out in verse 3.The Lord is about to visit Zion. His royal way will be across the desert, and it’s imperative that appropriate preparations be made. “Cry out,” says another voice (V. 6a). There is tension in the air, because an urgent call to action has been issued, and so far no-one has responded. It is at this point at which people begin to squirm in their seats and everyone avoids the speaker’s eyes. Then at last someone speaks; “What shall I cry?” he says (v. 6b). Isaiah is not so much volunteering as acknowledging that he is the one whom the speaker has had in mind all the time. Isaiah has stood in God’s council and heard God calling him to specific ministry which he now takes up.

Isaiah’s new message is for people whose whole world has been shattered. And for people like that, cheap comfort is not only a waste of time, it’s cruel. Comfort that is not grounded in reality is no comfort at all. But the word that Isaiah is commissioned to bring to them is not like that at all; it is based on truth at every point. The first truth is that they are God’s people (v. 1). The covenant that God made with their ancestors at Sinai still stands. God is not indifferent to Jerusalem’s plight, in spite of the disasters He has allowed to come upon her. He still has plans for His people which are tied up in some way with that special place (v. 2).

The second truth is that they have been forgiven (v. 2). The penalty for their sins has been paid in full, and consequently they are to be released forthwith from hard labor. The royal pardon has come, the prison doors are flung wide open, and they are free! What good news this is; and no doubt the inner circle of Isaiah’s disciples long treasured these words. There is far more to this announcement of pardon than first meets the eye. There is a mystery here that will not be explained fully until chapter 53. But for now the announcement is allowed to stand alone in all its stark and bold splendor. You are forgiven! Your sin has been paid for! Your hard labor is over! What more comforting truth could there be for shattered people than that?

The third truth is that God will act to give concrete expression to the fact that He has forgiven them. He will not leave them where they are; He will bring them home (vv. 3-5). The processional way through the wilderness is not just the way for the Lord (v. 3), but the way for His people too, for He is going to take them with Him. He will tend, gather, carry and lead them as He brings them to Zion, like a Shepherd caring for His flock (v. 11). And as the watching world looks on, it will learn what kind of God He is; His glory…will be revealed, and all humankind will see it (v. 5). The Lord is a missionary God; what He does for His own, He does not for their sake alone, but that all may come to know Him.

The fourth and final truth is that God’s Word can be relied upon. It does not decay and fade away as we do, but stands forever (vv. 6-8).  The person who cannot rest his or her whole weight on the Word of God can never know peace, for in the last analysis it can be found nowhere else than in a trusting relationship with the God who made us and rightly claims us as His own. It is trust in a person who is committed to us and has all the resources necessary to care for us. It is the Word of our God that Isaiah speaks of, a word or message that arises from a relationship. And the truth is that God’s Word has the same character as God Himself. It is unchanging and reliable as the God who speaks it.

Such comfort is good news indeed, so good that it cannot and must not be contained. It must be shouted confidently and fearlessly from the mountaintops (v. 9). The gospel of Jesus Christ is the gospel of Isaiah 40 transposed into a new, higher key. And it too, is far too important to be contained. It must be shouted from the housetops, not just for the cities of Judah, but for all the world to hear!

Isaiah 40:1-11 Reflection Questions:

Are ignoring God’s call for you? Take that first step of faith today!

How much do you rely on God’s Word? Do you apply it to daily life?

Do you have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ?

Are you reading God’s Word daily? How are you sharing the “good news?”

Who is the one being described in Isaiah 40:3 from the New Testament Gospel?

It may be difficult for us to think of Judah and Babylon as allies, but in 712 BC it must have seemed the most natural thing in the world. Babylon had been trying to break free of Assyrian domination ever since Babylon was conquered in 745 BC, and Merodach-Baladan (v. 1) was the hero of the resistance. At the same time Hezekiah had become the de facto leader of the anti-Assyrian coalition in southern Palestine. What could make better sense than co-operation between them? It certainly made sense to the Babylonians, who had apparently been watching events in Palestine with keen interest.

Envoys were dispatched with letters and a gift (v. 1), and they found Hezekiah in high spirits. His strength had returned, his storehouses were full, and his little kingdom was well armed and confident. He was flattered at being courted by one so famous, and did everything in his power to impress his distinguished visitors (v. 2). Events have moved too quickly. Action that required careful thought and wise counsel has been taken hastily and without careful consideration from wrong motives and, worst of all, God has not been consulted. But it is a hard truth for Hezekiah to accept. We can sense his defensiveness in the tense exchange of verses 3 and 4, and by the end of the chapter he has descended into pure child-like sulking (v.8).

Isaiah saw only too clearly that in the long term Babylon would prove to be an enemy rather than a friend. The royal treasure which the Babylonians had seen they would eventually carry off as plunder and with it the surviving members of the royal family (vv. 5-7). Hezekiah’s hasty alliance with Babylon was as much symptomatic of lack of trust as the more blatant sin of idol-worship which increasingly blighted the life of the whole nation. The apostasy that took place in his reign was so bad that its effects were irreversible; God decided that Judah would have to be totally demolished, and Babylon would be the instrument He would use.

Isaiah is relentless in hammering home the message that whatever we put trust in, instead of God Himself, will eventually turn on us and destroys us. So, as we come to the end of this crucial central section of the book, we are faced with the grim prospect of exile and the hard questions that it would inevitably throw up: Was there any hope of recovery, or was judgment to be God’s final word to Israel? Had the promises to David been cancelled or only put in suspension? Who was really in control of history, the Lord or the gods of Babylon? Was trust in the God of Israel even possible anymore? Paradoxically, it was precisely in this situation where all the external supports of Israel’s faith had been destroyed, that she was to learn in a deeper way than ever before what real trust in God was all about.

Isaiah 39:1-8 Reflection Questions:

What was the major sin of Hezekiah in verse 2 other than not consulting God?

Have you ever felt like Hezekiah after God has answered your prayers?

Have you had a personal lesson in what trusting God is all about? Journal on it.

The opening phrase, “In those days”, is deliberately vague and gives only a general indication of the time-frame of the narrative. In fact, this chapter and the next are effectively a flashback to something that happened before the events that have just been described. The deliverance of Jerusalem as pronounced here has already taken place in the previous chapter. So we have stepped back in time and back from the broad canvas of international events, to pick up something far more intimate and private (v. 1). It’s the crisis behind the crisis, so to speak.

For an individual of course, sickness can be just as much a crisis as an invasion is for a nation. Illness, especially if it is serious, brings us face to face with our mortality, and can put our trust in God on a razor’s edge. This is precisely the situation in which we find Hezekiah in this chapter. He is ill – very ill – and the word from Isaiah is that he is going to die (v. 1). Hezekiah is deeply shaken by the news. He turns his face to the wall and weeps bitterly (vv. 2-3). It is a helpful reminder to pray for our leaders. We have a tendency to forget that they are subject to the same weakness as ourselves. It can be very lonely at the top.

But Hezekiah is not alone, and his faith is not utterly extinguished. He does not just weep; he prays (v. 3). It’s a far cry from the robust prayer of 37:14-17 (it’s harder to be strong in a personal crisis than in a national one), but it is a prayer none the less, and shows that his face is turned, not just to the wall, but also to God. There is no praise, no pious resignation to the divine will, no expressed desire that God may be glorified – just a muted cry for help. It’s not much of a prayer, but it’s all he is capable of at this moment. But this is precisely the kind of backdrop against which God’s splendid grace shines to fullest advantage. And that is certainly the case here. Hezekiah is granted not only what he asked for, but much more. The Lord will add fifteen years to Hezekiah’s own life – and he will also defend and deliver Jerusalem (vv. 5-6). No wonder Hezekiah prayed with more robust faith next time! He learned something in this crisis which strengthened him for the next.

In verses 7-8 Hezekiah is given a sign to assure him that the Lord will indeed do as he has promised. According to verse 22 he had requested such a sign, an indication that his faith had not yet reached a point of confident rest. But at least he was disposed to believe, in contrast to Ahaz, who had refused to accept a sign when one was offered (7:10-13). There is all the difference in the world between someone who is disposed to believe and someone who is not. It is the difference between light and darkness. Hezekiah recovered as the Lord said he would.

In a sense, by the time we reach verse 9 of this chapter everything of importance has already happened. But in fact what follows is the most significant part of all, for here Hezekiah reflects, with the benefit of hindsight, on all that the experience has meant to him (vv. 9-20). Such lessons are priceless, but often it is only looking back, as Hezekiah does here, that we can see how suffering has been the means God has used to teach them to us.

But now it is time for us to widen our perspective again, for although Hezekiah was a human being like ourselves, he was also the king of a nation which had a unique place in God’s purposes. Because of this, his sickness and recovery could not be purely private affairs; they had the potential to change the course of history, as we will see in our study of chapter 39.

Isaiah 38:1-22 Reflection Questions:

Are you going through or have you gone through a personal crisis? How did it impact your faith?

Was your faith strengthened? Are you learning from your crises?

Why do you think it’s important to look back in hindsight on your personal crises?