The Lean Glory of Entangled Nations Text: Isaiah 17:1-6
Introduction: The Entangling Alliances of Man
The book of Isaiah is a majestic and sweeping prophecy, and one of its central themes is the absolute sovereignty of God over the nations. We modern Christians, particularly in the West, tend to read our Bibles with a kind of individualized piety. We look for verses that speak to our personal relationship with God, our private morality, our quiet times. And those things are good and necessary. But we often miss the grand, geopolitical sweep of what God is doing in history. God is not just the Lord of your heart; He is the Lord of history. He is not just the king of your personal life; He is the King of kings, the one who sets up rulers and brings them down. He moves the borders of nations like a man moving stones in his garden.
The prophets understood this. They did not see politics and international relations as a secular sphere, a godless arena where pragmatic men make realistic decisions. They saw the hand of God everywhere, directing, judging, and saving. The oracles against the nations, which we find here in Isaiah, are not just God flexing His muscles or settling old scores. They are a revelation of His character and His unwavering commitment to His covenant purposes.
In our text today, Isaiah delivers an oracle concerning Damascus, the capital of Aram, or Syria. But this is not just about Syria. As is so often the case in Scripture, the fates of nations are intertwined. In this period, the northern kingdom of Israel, also called Ephraim, had made a foolish and faithless alliance with Damascus. They looked to a pagan king for security instead of to Yahweh. They thought that by tying their fortunes to a powerful neighbor, they could withstand the looming threat of Assyria. But when you tie yourself to a sinking ship, you don't save the ship. You just get pulled down with it. This is a timeless lesson. When the people of God make unholy alliances, when they trust in the arm of the flesh, when they look to the world's power structures for their safety and identity, they inevitably share in the world's judgment.
This passage is a stark warning against the pragmatism that compromises faith. It shows us that God's judgment is not arbitrary. It is a careful, discriminating process. And it reveals a central biblical theme: the glory of man, whether it is the glory of a pagan city or the glory of a wayward covenant people, is a fleeting thing. It is a fatness that will inevitably be made lean. But even in the midst of this stark judgment, we see the glimmer of God's grace in the promise of a remnant. God's judgments are never just destructive; they are always reconstructive, clearing the ground for His ultimate purposes in Christ.
The Text
The oracle concerning Damascus. “Behold, Damascus is about to be removed from being a city And will become a fallen ruin. The cities of Aroer are forsaken; They will be for flocks, and they will lie down in them; And there will be no one to cause them to tremble. And the fortified city will cease from Ephraim, And sovereignty from Damascus And the remnant of Aram; They will be like the glory of the sons of Israel," Declares Yahweh of hosts. Now it will be in that day, that the glory of Jacob will wane, And the fatness of his flesh will become lean. And it will be even like the reaper gathering the standing grain, As his arm harvests the ears of grain, Or it will be like one gleaning ears of grain In the valley of Rephaim. Yet gleanings will remain in it like the shaking of an olive tree, Two or three olives on the topmost branch, Four or five on the twigs of a fruitful tree, Declares Yahweh, the God of Israel.
(Isaiah 17:1-6 LSB)
The Ruin of Damascus (vv. 1-2)
The oracle begins with a blunt and total declaration of judgment against Damascus.
"Behold, Damascus is about to be removed from being a city And will become a fallen ruin. The cities of Aroer are forsaken; They will be for flocks, and they will lie down in them; And there will be no one to cause them to tremble." (Isaiah 17:1-2)
The word "Behold" is a call to attention. God is saying, "Look at this. Pay attention. What I am about to do will be a sign." The judgment is absolute. Damascus will be "removed from being a city." This is not just a military defeat; it is an un-creation. It will become a "fallen ruin," a heap of rubble. This prophecy was fulfilled with brutal precision by the Assyrians under Tiglath-Pileser III around 732 B.C. The pride of Syria, a city that had stood for centuries, was to be erased from the map.
The desolation extends beyond the capital. "The cities of Aroer are forsaken." This likely refers to the region east of the Jordan, associated with Syria's power. The picture is one of complete depopulation. Where there were once bustling towns, there will be nothing but pastureland. Flocks will lie down in the ruins. And the silence will be deafening: "there will be no one to cause them to tremble." The peace that comes is not the peace of prosperity, but the peace of the graveyard. All the noise of human ambition, commerce, and rebellion is silenced. God's judgment has a way of doing that. The proud towers of man, built in defiance of Heaven, are brought low, and the quiet beasts of the field inherit their ruins.
The Collateral Damage of Covenant Unfaithfulness (v. 3)
In verse 3, the lens widens to include Damascus's treaty partner, the northern kingdom of Israel, here called Ephraim.
"And the fortified city will cease from Ephraim, And sovereignty from Damascus And the remnant of Aram; They will be like the glory of the sons of Israel," Declares Yahweh of hosts." (Isaiah 17:3)
Notice the parallel structure. Just as sovereignty will cease from Damascus, the fortified city will cease from Ephraim. Ephraim had trusted in its military strength, its "fortified city," which was Samaria. But that trust was misplaced. Because they had yoked themselves to Damascus, they would share in Damascus's fate. Their worldly wisdom proved to be spiritual suicide.
Then comes a statement dripping with divine irony. The "remnant of Aram" will be "like the glory of the sons of Israel." At first glance, this might sound like a good thing. But what is the state of Israel's glory at this point? The next verse will tell us it is waning and becoming lean. So God is saying that what's left of the proud Syrians will be just as pathetic and judged as His own rebellious people. It's as if God says, "You wanted to be like Israel? Fine. You can be just like them in their judgment." Both nations, the pagan and the apostate covenant people, had built their "glory" on foundations of sand, on military might and political maneuvering. And Yahweh of hosts, the Lord of all armies, declares that both structures will collapse into the same pile of rubble.
The Waning Glory of Jacob (vv. 4-5)
The focus now shifts fully to the judgment on Israel, described with agricultural metaphors of diminishment and loss.
"Now it will be in that day, that the glory of Jacob will wane, And the fatness of his flesh will become lean. And it will be even like the reaper gathering the standing grain, As his arm harvests the ears of grain, Or it will be like one gleaning ears of grain In the valley of Rephaim." (Isaiah 17:4-5)
The "glory of Jacob" refers to the nation's strength, wealth, and population. All the things they took pride in, all the blessings of the covenant which they had taken for granted and attributed to their own cleverness, will now "wane." The nation, once prosperous and "fat," will become emaciated and "lean." This is the inevitable result of sin. Sin is a wasting disease. It promises satisfaction and delivers starvation.
The judgment is then compared to a harvest. The first image is of a reaper efficiently gathering the entire crop. The Assyrian army will sweep through the land, and the population will be gathered up and carried off into exile. There is an efficiency to it, a clean sweep. The second image is even more stark: it will be like someone "gleaning ears of grain" in the Valley of Rephaim, a fertile plain near Jerusalem. Gleaning is what you do after the main harvest, picking up the scraps that were left behind. The point is that after the Assyrian harvest, there will be almost nothing left. The nation will be picked clean.
The Mercy of the Remnant (v. 6)
But the judgment, though severe, is not total. God, in His sovereign grace, always preserves a remnant.
"Yet gleanings will remain in it like the shaking of an olive tree, Two or three olives on the topmost branch, Four or five on the twigs of a fruitful tree, Declares Yahweh, the God of Israel." (Isaiah 17:6)
Here the metaphor shifts from a grain harvest to an olive harvest. When an olive tree is shaken, most of the fruit falls, but there are always a few stubborn olives left clinging to the highest, most inaccessible branches. This is a picture of God's discriminating grace. The judgment will be overwhelming, but it will not be absolute. A few will be left. "Two or three... four or five." This is not a mighty host. It is a small, seemingly insignificant group.
But this is the story of the Bible. God does not need the majority. He worked through Noah's family, through Abraham, through the remnant that returned from Babylon, and ultimately, through the one true Israelite, Jesus Christ. This remnant is not saved because they were better climbers or held on tighter. They are saved because God in His sovereignty chose to leave them there. They are a testimony not to their own strength, but to the faithfulness of "Yahweh, the God of Israel," who, even in wrath, remembers mercy.
Conclusion: The Fading Glory of Man and the Enduring Glory of Christ
This passage is a tale of two glories. There is the glory of Damascus and Ephraim, a glory built on political alliances, military fortifications, and national pride. It is a fat and prosperous glory, but it is a glory destined to be made lean. It is a field of grain ripe for the harvest of judgment. This is the glory of man, and it always, always fades.
We live in an age that is drunk on the glory of man. We trust in our technology, our economies, our political systems, our own supposed goodness. We make alliances with the spirit of the age, thinking it will make us safe or relevant. But God here warns us that all such glories are temporary. All flesh is grass, and its glory is like the flower of the field. The grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God will stand forever.
But there is another glory. It is the glory of the remnant, the glory of those few olives left on the topmost branch. It is a glory not of size or strength, but of sheer, unadulterated grace. This is the remnant that looks not to Damascus, but to Yahweh. And this remnant finds its ultimate fulfillment in one man, Jesus Christ. He is the true Israel, the one who passed through the ultimate judgment on the cross. He was harvested, cut down, and buried. But in His resurrection, He became the firstfruits of a new harvest, the head of a new remnant, the Church.
When we, by faith, are united to Christ, we are grafted into that remnant. Our own fleshly glory, our pride, our self-reliance, is made lean. It is crucified with Christ. And we are given a new glory, a glory that does not fade. It is the glory of being hidden in Him. The world may be shaken, nations may become ruins, but those who are found in Christ are like those olives on the topmost branch, held secure by the God of Israel. Our hope is not in avoiding the shaking, but in clinging to the one who holds the tree.