The Axe Forgets Who is Swinging: Text: Isaiah 10:28-34
Introduction: The Arrogance of the Instrument
We live in an age that has a profound misunderstanding of power. Our secular materialist worldview sees power as an autonomous force. Armies, governments, and economic systems are, in the modern mind, the ultimate movers and shakers of history. Men look at the advance of a seemingly unstoppable military force, and they tremble. They see the machinations of global powers, and they despair. They believe the story is being written by the men in charge, the ones with the biggest battalions and the most advanced weaponry.
But the Bible teaches us a fundamentally different grammar of reality. It teaches that all human power is derivative, delegated, and temporary. God is the author of the story, and earthly powers are nothing more than instruments in His hand. Sometimes they are a scalpel for healing, sometimes a rod for correction, and sometimes, as we see in Isaiah, they are an axe for judgment. Earlier in this very chapter, God makes this point with crystalline clarity. Speaking of the Assyrian king, He says, "Does the axe boast itself over the one who chops with it? Does the saw exalt itself over the one who wields it?" (Isaiah 10:15). The answer, of course, is that such a thing is absurd.
And yet, this is the constant temptation of man. The axe forgets it is an axe. The instrument believes it is the agent. The king of Assyria, Sennacherib, was God's chosen instrument to discipline a wayward and idolatrous Judah. He was, you might say, God's appointed bully. But Sennacherib did not see it this way. He saw his own might, his own wisdom, his own invincible army. He looked at his string of victories and concluded that he was the master of his fate, the captain of his soul. And in this, he was the archetype of every proud nation and every arrogant ruler since.
This passage in Isaiah 10 is a masterful piece of prophetic literature. It paints a vivid, heart-pounding picture of the Assyrian war machine marching inexorably toward Jerusalem. The names of the towns tick off like a countdown to doom. The panic is palpable. And just when the enemy is at the gates, shaking his fist at the holy city, God steps in. The perspective shifts dramatically, from the horizontal terror of man to the vertical sovereignty of God. The Lord Himself enters the scene, and the axe that thought it was a lumberjack is about to find itself on the divine chopping block. This is a lesson for all times. God uses the wicked for His purposes, but He will not allow them the final word. He will punish the fruit of the arrogant heart of the king of Assyria and the glory of his high looks.
The Text
He has come against Aiath, He has passed through Migron; At Michmash he deposited his baggage. They have gone through the pass, saying, "Geba will be our lodging place." Ramah trembles, and Gibeah of Saul has fled away. Cry aloud with your voice, O daughter of Gallim! Pay attention, Laishah and afflicted Anathoth! Madmenah has fled. The inhabitants of Gebim have sought refuge. Yet today he will stand at Nob; He shakes his fist at the mountain of the daughter of Zion, the hill of Jerusalem. Behold, the Lord, Yahweh of hosts, will lop off the boughs with a terrible crash; Those also who are high in stature will be cut in pieces And those who are lofty will be made low. He will cut down the thickets of the forest with an iron axe, And Lebanon will fall by the Mighty One.
(Isaiah 10:28-34 LSB)
The Terrifying Advance (vv. 28-32)
Isaiah begins with what amounts to a series of frantic battlefield reports. The enemy is closer than anyone thought.
"He has come against Aiath, He has passed through Migron; At Michmash he deposited his baggage. They have gone through the pass, saying, 'Geba will be our lodging place.' Ramah trembles, and Gibeah of Saul has fled away. Cry aloud with your voice, O daughter of Gallim! Pay attention, Laishah and afflicted Anathoth! Madmenah has fled. The inhabitants of Gebim have sought refuge. Yet today he will stand at Nob; He shakes his fist at the mountain of the daughter of Zion, the hill of Jerusalem." (Isaiah 10:28-32)
This is not just a list of place names; it is poetry designed to induce panic. Isaiah is a master communicator. He uses short, staccato phrases to mimic the breathless reports of a scout racing to the city with terrible news. The Assyrian army is moving with shocking speed from the north, down the central ridge toward Jerusalem. Each town mentioned is another step closer. Aiath, Migron, Michmash, these are all within a dozen miles of the capital.
At Michmash, the site of Jonathan's famous victory over the Philistines, the enemy is so confident that he leaves his non-essential supplies. He is traveling light and fast for the final assault. They cross the pass and plan to camp at Geba, just six miles away. The psychological impact on the surrounding region is immediate and devastating. Ramah trembles. Gibeah, the hometown of King Saul, the very symbol of Israel's old military strength, simply flees. There is no fight left in them.
The prophet then turns to the towns themselves, personifying them in their terror. He calls on Gallim to shriek. Anathoth, the hometown of the prophet Jeremiah, is described as "afflicted." The people of Madmenah and Gebim are running for their lives. The sense is one of total collapse and chaos. Human strength has failed. Political alliances have proven worthless. The defenses are crumbling.
The climax of this terrifying march comes in verse 32. "Yet today he will stand at Nob." Nob was a priestly city, located on Mount Scopus, which gave a direct, unobstructed view of the Temple Mount in Jerusalem. From this vantage point, the Assyrian king, Sennacherib, can see his prize. He is so close he can shake his fist at it. This is the ultimate gesture of contempt and arrogance. He is not just defying a city of brick and mortar; he is shaking his fist at the mountain of the daughter of Zion, the dwelling place of the living God. He has reached the pinnacle of his pride, and in doing so, he has stepped over a line. He has mistaken God's patience for absence, and God's use of him for approval. The axe is boasting, and the Lord of Hosts has heard it.
The Divine Reversal (vv. 33-34)
Just as the tension reaches its absolute peak, the camera shifts. We are no longer looking at the situation from the ground, from the perspective of panicked villagers. We are now shown the view from Heaven. And from there, the invincible Assyrian army looks very different.
"Behold, the Lord, Yahweh of hosts, will lop off the boughs with a terrible crash; Those also who are high in stature will be cut in pieces And those who are lofty will be made low." (Isaiah 10:33)
The word "Behold" is a thunderclap. It demands our attention. The subject of the action is no longer "he," the Assyrian king. It is "the Lord, Yahweh of hosts." This is the covenant name of God, Yahweh, combined with His title as the commander of the armies of Heaven. The king of Assyria has an army, but Yahweh is the Lord of all armies, seen and unseen. The one shaking his fist is about to be swatted like a fly.
The imagery is that of a forester. The Assyrian army, in its pride and loftiness, is pictured as a magnificent, towering forest. But God is coming with His own axe. He "will lop off the boughs with a terrible crash." The word for "crash" or "terror" implies a sudden, violent, and awe-inspiring display of power. All the things that made Assyria seem great, their high commanders, their lofty nobles, their sheer numbers, are about to be brought low. God is in the business of humbling the proud. He opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble. This is an iron law of the moral universe He has created. The tallest trees fall the hardest.
The final verse completes the picture of utter devastation.
"He will cut down the thickets of the forest with an iron axe, And Lebanon will fall by the Mighty One." (Isaiah 10:34)
The dense ranks of the Assyrian army, the "thickets of the forest," will be felled. And notice, God uses an "iron axe." This is a beautiful piece of poetic justice. Assyria was the master of iron weaponry. They were the terror of the ancient world because of their iron chariots and iron-tipped spears. Now, God turns their own source of strength into the instrument of their destruction. He will out-iron them.
And then the final, majestic statement: "And Lebanon will fall by the Mighty One." Lebanon was famous for its magnificent cedars, the tallest and most majestic trees in the ancient world. They were a symbol of supreme strength, pride, and glory. Here, "Lebanon" is a metaphor for the pinnacle of Assyrian arrogance. And this great forest will not just be trimmed; it will fall. And by whom? By the "Mighty One." This is a title for God Himself. The one who seemed mighty, the king of Assyria, is nothing before the truly Mighty One.
And we know from history how this played out. That very night, as the Assyrian army camped outside the walls, the angel of the Lord went through the camp and struck down 185,000 soldiers. Sennacherib woke up to a field of corpses, and he limped back to Nineveh in disgrace, where he was later assassinated by his own sons while worshipping his false god (Isaiah 37:36-38). The axe was broken and discarded. The fist was unclenched. The Mighty One had spoken.
Conclusion: The Humble Branch
This passage is a stark reminder of the sovereignty of God in the affairs of nations. Human pride has a predictable trajectory. It rises, it boasts, it shakes its fist at Heaven, and then it is broken. God gives arrogant men a long leash, but it is a leash nonetheless. And when they reach the end of it, the judgment is swift and terrible.
But the story does not end with the felling of the great forest of Assyria. The very next verse, the beginning of chapter 11, provides the glorious gospel contrast. "Then a shoot will spring from the stem of Jesse, And a branch from his roots will bear fruit" (Isaiah 11:1). After the proud, lofty forest of human might is clear-cut and leveled by the Mighty One, something else begins to grow. It is not a mighty cedar of Lebanon. It is a humble shoot, a tender branch from a stump that was all but dead.
This, of course, is the Lord Jesus Christ. God's answer to the pride of man is the humility of the God-man. While the kings of the earth rage and boast, God's plan for ruling the world comes from the line of Jesse, from the stump of a humbled royal family. God's kingdom does not advance like the Assyrian army, with terror and intimidation. It advances like a seed, like a humble branch that grows into a great tree that fills the earth.
The Mighty One who felled the forest of Lebanon is the same Mighty One who became a humble branch for our sake. Jesus Christ is both the Mighty God who humbles the proud and the humble servant who was cut down on our behalf. On the cross, the true iron of God's judgment fell upon Him, so that we, the truly guilty, might be spared. He was made low, so that in Him we might be lifted high.
Therefore, we must not put our trust in the forests of men. We must not fear the fist-shaking of arrogant rulers or tremble at the advance of worldly power. Their end is determined. Instead, we must put our entire trust in that humble branch from the stump of Jesse. For He is the true King, the Mighty One who has already won the decisive victory. He is the one who will ultimately bring down every lofty thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God, and He will reign until all His enemies are made a footstool for His feet.