The Peg, The Key, and The Ball Text: Isaiah 22:15-25
Introduction: Two Kinds of Authority
Every society, every institution, every church, and every household is governed. There is no such thing as a vacuum of authority. The only question is what kind of authority it will be. Will it be the authority of the self-promoter, the man who builds his own little empire on borrowed land and with borrowed time? Or will it be the authority of the God-sent servant, the one who receives his station as a gift and exercises it for the good of the people? This is the fundamental conflict we see everywhere, from the halls of government down to the squabbles in a church nursery.
In our passage today, Isaiah gives us a tale of two stewards, a tale of two pegs. We meet Shebna, the consummate politician, a man busy carving out his legacy in stone, utterly oblivious to the fact that God is about to treat him like a wad of paper to be crumpled up and thrown away. And we meet Eliakim, God's servant, who will be invested with true authority, an authority symbolized by a tunic, a sash, and a key. One man is a disgrace to his master's house, and the other will become a father to it.
But this is not simply a historical account of a personnel change in the court of King Hezekiah. This is a prophetic drama, a living parable. It is a story about the difference between illegitimate, grasping authority and legitimate, delegated authority. More than that, it is a story that points far beyond itself to the ultimate steward, the true Father of God's people, the one who holds the ultimate key. It is a story that shows us both the stability of God's promises and the designed inadequacy of all human saviors, forcing us to look for a better peg, one that will never, ever give way.
The Text
Thus says Lord Yahweh of hosts, “Come, go to this steward, To Shebna, who is in charge of the royal household, 'What right do you have here, And whom do you have here, That you have hewn a tomb for yourself here, You who hew a tomb on the height, You who carve a dwelling place for yourself in the cliff? Behold, Yahweh is about to hurl you headlong, O man. And He is about to grasp you firmly And He will surely roll you tightly like a ball, To be cast into a vast country; There you will die, And there your glorious chariots will be, You disgrace of your master’s house.’ I will push you out of your office, And I will pull you down from your station. Then it will be in that day, That I will summon My servant Eliakim the son of Hilkiah, And I will clothe him with your tunic And tie your sash securely about him. I will give your authority into his hand, And he will become a father to the inhabitants of Jerusalem and to the house of Judah. Then I will set the key of the house of David on his shoulder, When he opens no one will shut, When he shuts no one will open. I will drive him like a peg in a firm place, And he will become a throne of glory to his father’s house. So they will hang on him all the glory of his father’s house, offspring and issue, all the least of vessels, from bowls to all the jars. In that day,” declares Yahweh of hosts, “the peg driven in a firm place will give way; it will even break off and fall, and the load hanging on it will be cut off, for Yahweh has spoken.”
(Isaiah 22:15-25 LSB)
The Self-Serving Steward (vv. 15-16)
God sends Isaiah to confront a man named Shebna. He is the steward, the one in charge of the royal household, effectively the prime minister. And God's first words to him are a devastating challenge to his very presence.
"What right do you have here, And whom do you have here, That you have hewn a tomb for yourself here..." (Isaiah 22:16)
Shebna is a man possessed by what we might call the edifice complex. He is using his position of power not to serve the king or the people, but to secure his own legacy. He is carving out an elaborate tomb for himself high up on a cliff, a monument to his own importance. This is the action of a man who thinks he is an owner, not a steward. He has forgotten that his authority is delegated, his position is temporary, and the ground he stands on belongs to God. God's question, "What right do you have here?" is the question that topples every tyrant and exposes every fraud. The answer is, of course, no right at all. You are a tenant. You are a placeholder. You do not own the place.
This is the essential sin of godless ambition. It seeks to establish a permanent name for itself in a world that is passing away. It is the sin of Babel all over again, trying to build a tower to the heavens to make a name for oneself. Shebna is not just building a tomb; he is building a worldview. It is a worldview of self-preservation, self-glorification, and self-sufficiency. And God is about to smash it to pieces.
The Divine Eviction (vv. 17-19)
God's judgment on Shebna is not a gentle demotion. It is a violent, humiliating, and total removal. God's holiness does not react to this kind of hubris with a polite cough.
"Behold, Yahweh is about to hurl you headlong, O man... And He will surely roll you tightly like a ball, To be cast into a vast country; There you will die... You disgrace of your master’s house." (Isaiah 22:17-18)
The imagery is almost comical in its severity. Shebna, this powerful man, will be seized by God, crumpled up like a piece of trash, and thrown into exile. The man who was carving a permanent home for himself in a cliff will have no home at all. He will die in a foreign land. His "glorious chariots," the symbols of his status and power, will be there with him, but only as a monument to his shame. He sought glory for himself and ended up as the "disgrace of your master's house." This is the great reversal that God always performs. "Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted" (Matthew 23:12). God's eviction notice is absolute: "I will push you out of your office, and I will pull you down from your station" (v. 19). There is no appeal.
The Consecrated Successor (vv. 20-23)
But God does not leave a vacuum. He deposes one man to raise up another. And the contrast could not be more stark.
"Then it will be in that day, That I will summon My servant Eliakim the son of Hilkiah..." (Isaiah 22:20)
Notice the first thing God calls him: "My servant." Shebna was serving himself. Eliakim is God's servant. God summons him, clothes him with Shebna's tunic and sash, and gives authority into his hand. But the purpose of this authority is not self-aggrandizement. The purpose is pastoral: "he will become a father to the inhabitants of Jerusalem and to the house of Judah" (v. 21). A father provides, protects, guides, and disciplines. He does not use his household for his own glory; he gives himself for the glory of his household. This is the biblical model for all authority, whether in the home, the church, or the state.
Then we get to the central symbol: "Then I will set the key of the house of David on his shoulder, When he opens no one will shut, When he shuts no one will open" (v. 22). This is the key to the kingdom. It represents total administrative authority. What Eliakim decides, stands. This is a breathtaking grant of power, but it is a delegated power. It is the key of the house of David. It belongs to the king. Eliakim merely carries it.
This verse should make the bells of redemptive history ring in your ears. The resurrected Jesus says to the church in Philadelphia, "These things says He who is holy, He who is true, 'He who has the key of David, He who opens and no one shuts, and shuts and no one opens'" (Revelation 3:7). Jesus Christ takes this description and applies it directly to Himself. Eliakim was a type, a placeholder, a signpost. He carried the key on his shoulder, but Christ is the one who holds the key in His hand. Eliakim's authority was temporary and limited; Christ's authority is ultimate and eternal.
God promises to make Eliakim "like a peg in a firm place" (v. 23). He will be a source of stability and security. He will be so reliable that he will become a "throne of glory" for his family. They will hang everything on him, from the most important matters to the least, "from bowls to all the jars" (v. 24). This is a picture of a trustworthy, stable leader upon whom the entire community can depend.
The Shocking Failure of the Peg (v. 25)
After building up this glorious picture of Eliakim as the firm peg, the source of all stability, the prophecy takes a shocking and abrupt turn.
"In that day," declares Yahweh of hosts, "the peg driven in a firm place will give way; it will even break off and fall, and the load hanging on it will be cut off, for Yahweh has spoken." (Isaiah 22:25)
What is this? God establishes a firm peg, and then declares that the firm peg will fail. This is not a contradiction; it is a profound theological lesson. The Old Testament types and shadows are designed to do two things: point forward to Christ, and fail. They must fail in order to demonstrate their own inadequacy. They must break to show us that we need something, or rather someone, unbreakable.
Eliakim, for all his faithfulness as God's servant, was still just a man. And no mere man, no matter how righteous, can bear the full weight of the glory and hopes of God's people. The load is too great. The peg, though driven in a firm place by God Himself, will eventually give way. The text does not say Eliakim sinned; it simply says the peg will fall. It must fall. Why? The last phrase tells us everything: "for Yahweh has spoken." God ordained the failure of the type in order to magnify the glory of the antitype.
The entire system of the Old Covenant was a temporary peg. The priesthood, the sacrifices, the kings, they were all driven in a firm place by God's command, and they all eventually gave way. They broke off and fell, not because God's plan failed, but because their failure was God's plan. Their failure was meant to create a desperate longing for a better peg, a better priest, a better king.
The Unbreakable Peg
This brings us to the gospel. By nature, we are all Shebnas. We are all carving out little monuments to ourselves. We are all trying to make a name for ourselves, secure our own legacy, and establish our own righteousness. And God's word to us is the same as it was to Shebna: "What right do you have here?" The law of God comes and finds us building our pathetic tombs on His holy hill, and it condemns us. It promises to roll us up like a ball and cast us out forever.
But God, in His mercy, has not left us there. He has summoned His true servant, His only Son, the Lord Jesus Christ. He is the true Eliakim. He is the one who was clothed in our humanity, who became a father to an everlasting family. He is the one who holds the key of David, who opens the door to heaven that no man can shut, and who shuts the door to hell that no man can open.
And He is the true peg. He was driven into the firmest place imaginable, not a wall in Jerusalem, but the very heart of God's sovereign decree before the foundation of the world. He was driven deep at Calvary, where the entire weight of our sin, all our disgrace, all our rebellion, the glory of all God's people from the least to the greatest, was hung upon Him. And unlike the peg of Eliakim, He did not give way. He did not break off. He did not fall. He bore it all. He absorbed the full weight of God's wrath and the full weight of our salvation, and He stands firm forever.
The Shebnas of this world, the self-promoters and legacy-builders, will all be torn down. Every human institution, every political savior, every earthly hope is a peg that will one day give way. The question for you is this: what are you hanging your hopes on? What peg are you trusting? If you are hanging your life, your future, your salvation on the peg of your own goodness, your career, your reputation, or any human leader, know this: that peg will break, and everything hanging on it will be cut off. For Yahweh has spoken.
But if you will abandon your own pathetic tomb-building project and hang all your hopes, all your sins, all your future on the Lord Jesus Christ, you will be secure for all eternity. He is the peg that cannot break. He is the throne of glory for His Father's house. Come to Him, and hang everything on Him. He is able to save completely those who draw near to God through Him.