The Watchman's Riddle: Text: Isaiah 21:11-12
Introduction: The Desperate Question
We live in an age of frantic questioning. Our world, having abandoned the God who gives answers, is now left with nothing but questions. And the questions are always tinged with desperation. How long will this last? When will things get better? Is there any light at the end of this particular tunnel? Men cry out into the darkness, but because they are crying out to a darkness of their own making, the only answer they receive is the echo of their own despair.
This is the situation we find in our text. It is a short, cryptic, and easily overlooked oracle. It is wedged between a prophecy about the fall of mighty Babylon and another concerning the tribes of Arabia. It is an oracle concerning "Dumah," which means silence. And from Seir, the land of Edom, the descendants of Esau, a cry comes out of the gloom. It is the question that every generation that feels the squeeze of history asks. "Watchman, what of the night?"
This is not an academic inquiry. This is the cry of a man who has been in the dark for a long time and wants to know when, if ever, the sun is going to rise. He is asking about the political night of Assyrian or Babylonian oppression. He is asking about the spiritual night of God's apparent silence. He is asking about the personal night of his own soul's confusion. And the prophet Isaiah, standing on the wall as God's appointed watchman, gives an answer that is as profound as it is perplexing. It is an answer that speaks not only to Edom in the 8th century B.C., but to us, right now, in our own cultural twilight.
The role of the prophet, the watchman, is not to be a spiritual fortune teller, handing out timetables for the apocalypse so we can all sell our possessions and head for the hills. The prophet's primary task is forth-telling, not foretelling. He is to tell you what time it is according to God's clock, not what time it will be tomorrow on yours. He is to interpret the present darkness in light of God's eternal promises. And the answer Isaiah gives is the fundamental rhythm of redemptive history until the final consummation. It is the grammar of God's dealings with men.
The Text
The oracle concerning Dumah.
One keeps calling to me from Seir,
"Watchman, how far gone is the night?
Watchman, how far gone is the night?"
The watchman says,
"Morning comes but also night.
If you would inquire, inquire;
Come back again."
(Isaiah 21:11-12 LSB)
The Anxious Inquiry (v. 11)
We begin with the cry from the dark.
"The oracle concerning Dumah. One keeps calling to me from Seir, 'Watchman, how far gone is the night? Watchman, how far gone is the night?'" (Isaiah 21:11 LSB)
First, the address: "The oracle concerning Dumah." The word Dumah means silence. This is likely a play on words for Edom, the land of Seir. The oracle is about a people headed for the silence of judgment. Edom, descended from Jacob's brother Esau, had a long and bitter history with Israel. They were the brother nation that consistently acted with hostility. And now, feeling the oppression of the great empires of the day, someone from Edom cries out to Israel's prophet. This is desperation. When you start asking your enemy's prophet for a word of hope, you are at the end of your rope.
The question itself is repeated, which shows its urgency. "Watchman, how far gone is the night?" This is the question of a man who is bone-weary of the darkness. He wants to know how much longer he has to endure. The night in Scripture is a rich metaphor. It represents ignorance, sin, chaos, judgment, and sorrow. The questioner wants to know when the oppression will lift, when clarity will return, when joy will come. He is asking, "Is there a future? Is there hope? Will the sun ever rise on us again?"
And he asks a "watchman." A watchman is one who stands on the city wall, whose job is to see what is coming and to warn the city. He has a higher perspective. He is supposed to be able to distinguish between an approaching threat and an approaching deliverance. The prophet is God's watchman for His people, and sometimes, even for the nations. He is the one who is supposed to have the divine perspective on current events. This is why our generation is in such a state of confusion. Our watchmen have abandoned the wall. They have come down into the city and are busy rearranging the furniture in their offices while the enemy masses at the gates. They offer therapeutic platitudes instead of a clear word from God. They are silent when they should be shouting a warning.
The Perplexing Answer (v. 12)
The watchman's reply is not the simple "dawn is coming" that the questioner likely wanted to hear.
"The watchman says, 'Morning comes but also night. If you would inquire, inquire; Come back again.'" (Isaiah 21:12 LSB)
Let's break this down. First, the promise: "Morning comes." This is the gospel in miniature. For those who are in covenant with God, morning is always coming. No matter how dark the night, the sun will rise. The Son will rise. "The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning" (Lamentations 3:22-23). This is the great postmillennial confidence of the church. History is not a random, meaningless cycle. It is headed somewhere. Christ has been raised from the dead, and because He is the light of the world, the dawn has already broken. The kingdom of God is advancing like the sunrise, and the gates of hell will not prevail against it.
But the watchman does not stop there. He immediately adds, "but also night." This is the realism of the Bible. The promise of the coming morning does not mean the absence of further nights. This is the rhythm of history in this age, between the first and second comings of Christ. There is an ebb and a flow. There are periods of reformation and revival, when the gospel light advances brightly. And there are periods of apostasy and judgment, when darkness seems to fall again. The path of the church is not one of uninterrupted, smooth ascent. It is a story of death and resurrection, of persecution and victory, of night and morning.
For Edom, the immediate meaning was likely this: yes, the night of Assyrian oppression will end (morning comes), but it will be followed by the night of Babylonian oppression (but also night). There is a temporary reprieve, but the fundamental problem has not been dealt with. You are asking for a change in circumstance, but you have not had a change in heart. You want the sunrise without the Son.
This is why the watchman concludes as he does. "If you would inquire, inquire; Come back again." This is not a dismissal. It is an invitation. The prophet is saying, "Your first question was superficial. You asked about the timing of relief. You need to ask a better question. You need to ask how you can be right with the God who commands the morning and the night. If you really want to know, then keep asking. Repent. Turn from your idols. Come back to the God of your father Isaac. Inquire of Him." The door is left open. The problem with Edom, and with our world, is not that God refuses to answer, but that men refuse to ask the right questions. They want relief from the consequences of their sin, but they do not want relief from their sin itself.
Application for the Watchmen of Today
So what does this ancient oracle say to us? It says everything. We are living through a period of deep cultural night in the West. The darkness is palpable. The questions are being asked on all sides, often in a panic. "How long, O Lord? What is happening to our country? When will this madness end?" And the church is called to have watchmen on the wall who can give a straight answer.
Our answer must be the same as Isaiah's. First, we must declare with unwavering confidence, "Morning comes!" We are not pessimists. We are not defeatists. We are not hunkering down in a bunker waiting for the rapture. Jesus Christ is Lord of heaven and earth. He is ruling and reigning right now, putting all His enemies under His feet. The gospel is the power of God unto salvation, and it is still powerful. We must preach the crown rights of King Jesus over every area of life. We must build a robust Christian culture. We must work and pray for reformation and revival. Morning is coming because Christ has risen.
But we must also be sober realists. We must say, "but also night." The cultural darkness we are experiencing is a form of God's judgment. It is a night that has fallen because the church in the West fell asleep on her watch. We compromised with the world. We adopted its therapeutic gospels and its pragmatic methods. We lost our nerve. And so God has handed us over to the foolishness we desired. Before the true morning comes for our nation, there will likely be more night. Things may well get darker before they get brighter. Christians must be prepared for this. We must not put our hope in political saviors or quick fixes. We must be prepared to be faithful through a long, dark, cold season. Our joy must be in God, not in our circumstances.
And finally, we must extend the invitation. "If you would inquire, inquire; Come back again." To a world that is asking desperate questions, we must not offer cheap grace or easy answers. We must call them to repentance. The only way to be ready for the morning is to turn to the one who is the Bright and Morning Star. The only way to endure the night is to be reconciled to the God who is a consuming fire. Our message must be, "Your way of life has led to this darkness. Your rejection of God is the reason the night has fallen. Therefore, repent and believe the gospel. Inquire of the Lord while He may be found. Keep asking, keep seeking, keep knocking. Come back to Him."
The watchman's riddle is the Christian's reality. Morning is coming, but the night is real. Our task is to be faithful on the wall, with the Word of God on our lips and the joy of the Lord in our hearts, until the day dawns and the shadows flee away.