Isaiah 13: Building a House of Cards

Building a House of Cards

The prophets in the Old Testament often declare God’s judgement upon nations because of their sin and unrepentant hearts.  In my own life, the difference between punishment, discipline and sinful consequences are difficult to identify.  Sometimes it feels like the world is unjust and that God is allowing evil to triumph over righteousness.  It is tempting to ask, “How can a good God allow bad things to happen to good people?”  (Usually implying that “I/Me” am the “good person” receiving unjust treatment.)  However, the question is flawed!  For there is only one good person!  His name is Jesus Christ; and he is the only good person that God allowed to bear the consequences of bad and evil intentions—and he bore them for our sake.

This is quite contrary to the instinctual position we all feel.  Quite often my sinful heart cries “foul” when bearing through the sufferings of this fallen world.  Yet, every moment of my life that is protected from bearing the wrath of God is a moment of grace and mercy by God.  The justice of God must be appeased one way or another; either by my life or Jesus life—it is only by Jesus that I escape God’s wrathful justice.  The tough truth is: life is not fair and it is a blessing.

Isaiah 13 describes some tough and horrific scenes that God allows mankind to suffer.  In verses 9-12 it says, “Behold, the day of the Lord is coming, cruel, with fury and burning anger, to make the land a desolation; and He will exterminate its sinners from it.  For the stars of heaven and their constellations will not flash forth their light; the sun will be dark when it rises, and the moon will not shed its light.  Thus I will punish the world for its evil, and the wicked for their iniquity; I will also put and end to the arrogance of the proud, and abase the haughtiness of the ruthless.  I will make mortal man scarcer than pure gold.”

The truth is brutal.  It is not easy to accept.  While this prophecy appears to be directly speaking to a specific moment—”the day of the Lord”—a general principle can be examined: the holiness of God and man’s corrupt state.  I want to make this clear, Isaiah 13 is not about misfortune but God’s judgement.  The passage is quite explicit that these verses are about punishment for people that will not repent and pursue a relationship with the Lord.  Secondly, relational position plays a significant role in determining the nature of suffering.  In Isaiah 13, these individuals are criminals according to the Law of God that do not seek mercy but rather plead guilty in defiant rebellion.  However, as an adopted son of God, my relationship is entirely different.  While it is entirely possible I suffer because my lack of wisdom and choose to follow the flesh, my suffering is also a prod to lead me back into the Father’s arms not to a prison cell.

Another idea to ponder is perspective.  When my son disobeys and I discipline him, the discipline is “good” and “healthy” from my perspective, but my son doesn’t always see it that way.  From his perspective, it feels like suffering.  However, like following the flesh, his urge to touch the open stove or outlet has far worse consequences than my discipline—a swat on the hand or stern word.  When I kneel to explain to him “why” I disciplined him, often I get a seeking gaze that doesn’t quite understand—he is only 18 months after all.  Isn’t this how God is with us?  When we cry out “why,” sometimes his explanation doesn’t make any sense.  Perhaps it isn’t God’s failure to explain but our infantile minds lacking mature understanding.  Romans 11:34, “Who has known the mind of the Lord?  Or who has been his counselor?”

In contemporary America, the idea that man is “generally good” has permeated every facet of discussion and thought.  The standard practice is to observe fellow human-beings and measure their social, economic, political and criminal status to draw comparisons between them and ourselves.  If I act “less criminally” than my neighbor, I can justify identifying myself as “good.”  That mentality is wrong.  The measure of “goodness” is not other imperfect humans.  The measure of Goodness is the individual that perfectly enacted and demonstrated Goodness to the fullest and most accurate possibilities according to the predetermined standard enforced by the righteous One.  Who among us can claim to be that individual?

Because we fail, we justify other people’s failures, knowing that to condemn their failure is to condemn our own failure and damn ourselves to the same punishment we appoint to them.  Therefore, we justify their sin to numb our conscience and dismiss our own sin.  It is much easier to follow the rules when I am the god that dictates the standard; but God’s view is quite different.  By my own misguided standards, I still fail (Rom. 2:14-16).

The Bible was written to bear witness of God’s standard and provide hope; a hope that cannot be diminished nor smothered by the stains of our failures.  As a follower of Christ, I am called to be holy.  Leviticus 20:26, “Thus you are to be holy to Me, for I the Lord am holy; and I have set you apart from the peoples to be Mine.”  Peter makes this same statement to reaffirm that unity of the scriptures (1 Peter 1:15).  The call is high and not lightly attempted.  There is no way to achieve holiness through determination and self-discipline.  Make sure to count the cost.  The Way to holiness is through the sanctifying fire of God by the power of the Holy Spirit that seals us as saints to be saved and resurrected with Jesus the King Messiah on the day of the Lord.

In 1 Corinthians 3:11-15, Paul expounds upon man’s work after receiving Jesus as Savior and gives a demonstration.  Jesus is the foundation for a house, but every man must carefully build upon that foundation.  “Now if any man builds upon the foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood hay, straw, each man’s work will become evident; for the day will show it, because it is to be revealed with fire; and the fire itself will test the quality of each man’s work” (1 Cor. 3:12-13).  When the fire comes, my heart begins to question God.  Do I shake my fist at the heavens or kneel in humble prayer for deliverance?  What sort of house have I built to weather the storms of life?  In short, is my faith real?

The questions are easy to sweep under the rug with general thoughts; “I am confident in my faith” and “God will protect me.”  But isn’t that the point of the purifying fire; to eliminate any blemishes left?  The parts of me that I hide in selfish greed and control must be purged.  It is by God’s testing that my flesh dies and His Spirit bears fruit through me.

C.S. Lewis made a profound statement when his wife died: “From the rational point of view, what new factor has H.’s death introduced into the problem of the universe?  What grounds has it given me for doubting all that I believe?  I knew already that these things, and worse, happened daily…We are even promised suffering.  They were part of the programme.  We were even told, ‘Blessed are they that mourn,’ and I accepted it.  I’ve got nothing that I hadn’t bargained for.  Of course it is different when the thing happens to oneself, not to others, and in reality, not in imagination…The case is too plain.  If my house has collapsed at one blow, that is because it was a house of cards.  The faith which ‘took these things into account’ was not faith but imagination.  If I had really cared, as I thought I did, about the sorrows of the world, I should not have been so overwhelmed when my own sorrow came.  It has been an imaginary faith playing with innocuous counters labeled ‘Illness,’ ‘Pain,’ ‘Death,’ and ‘Loneliness.’  I thought I trusted the rope until it mattered to me whether it would bear me.  Now it matters, and I find I didn’t.”[1]

Comparing the length of my life to Job’s, what complaints are legitimate?  Holding my life beside Christ’s, what have I truly sacrificed?  My country allows free worship, no physical persecution, very minimal guilt tripping and social pressure via passive aggressive behaviors, never been fired or unemployed for holding my beliefs and my loved ones don’t castigate me or kill me for betraying tradition.  When the fire comes will my house gleam and shimmer gold or be flicked aside like a house of cards?

[1] Lewis, C.S.  A Grief Observed in The Complete C.S. Lewis Signature Classics.  New York, NY: HarperCollins Publishers, 2002.  Pg: 671-72.

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