Commentary - Isaiah 24:7-12

Bird's-eye view

This passage in Isaiah is a poetic and potent description of comprehensive societal collapse under the judgment of God. The prophet is not just describing a bad harvest or a military defeat; he is painting a picture of the total unraveling of a culture. When God's hand of judgment falls, it is not selective. It touches everything that men rely on for their gladness and stability apart from Him. The central theme here is the removal of joy. The things that normally lubricate social life and celebration, like wine and music, are not just diminished; they are stripped of their very nature. The wine mourns, the music ceases, and the city itself becomes a monument to chaos. This is what happens when a people "have transgressed the laws, changed the ordinance, broken the everlasting covenant" (Isa. 24:5). The curse devours the earth, and the consequences are felt in the vineyard, the banquet hall, and the city gate. This is a portrait of a world with the gladness sucked out of it, a world where God has turned off the lights and the music.

Isaiah is describing a principle that is true for any society that turns its back on the covenant Lord. When the fundamental relationship with God is broken, all the subordinate relationships and joys begin to break down. The joy of the earth is not autonomous; it is a gift, and it can be recalled. The passage moves from the agricultural (the vine languishes) to the cultural (the joy of tambourines ceases) to the civic (the city of chaos is broken down). This is a thorough de-creation, a reversal of the blessings of order and fruitfulness. It stands as a stark warning that when a nation's sin reaches a certain measure, God's judgment will not be a slap on the wrist but a fundamental dismantling of their way of life.


Outline


Context In Isaiah

Chapter 24 of Isaiah is often called the "little apocalypse" because it describes a universal, worldwide judgment. The preceding chapters (13-23) were a series of oracles against specific nations, both pagan and Israelite. But here, the scope broadens dramatically. Isaiah declares that the Lord is going to "make the earth empty and make it waste" (24:1). The judgment is not just on Babylon or Moab, but on "the earth." The reason for this judgment is given in verse 5: the inhabitants have broken the everlasting covenant. This is not just the Mosaic covenant, but the fundamental covenant with mankind established after the flood, the Noahic covenant. The sin is universal, and so the judgment is universal. Our passage, verses 7-12, provides the tangible, on-the-ground details of what this judgment feels like. It is the color commentary on the de-creation that God is bringing upon a rebellious world. It sets the stage for the subsequent chapters where God promises to swallow up death forever and gather His redeemed remnant to a great feast on His holy mountain (Isa. 25:6-8).


Key Issues


When the Party's Over

The Bible is a book that is full of feasting, wine, and song. From the wedding at Cana to the marriage supper of the Lamb, God is not a cosmic killjoy. He is the author of joy, the giver of the vintage, and the inventor of the harp. But because these things are His gifts, they are tied to a right relationship with Him. When a culture decides it wants the gifts without the Giver, it is a short road to finding that the gifts themselves have been soured. God's judgment often takes the form of giving a people over to the logical consequences of their rebellion. They wanted a world without God, and He shows them what that world is really like. It is a world where the wine has no cheer, the songs have no melody, and the drink is bitter in the mouth. This passage is a description of a massive, culture-wide hangover. The party of rebellion is over, and now comes the morning of judgment, with its headache, nausea, and deep, abiding regret. All the props of their godless mirth are still there, but the mirth itself has been taken into exile. This is a profound spiritual principle: sin doesn't just break God's laws; it breaks God's world. It introduces a bitterness and a futility into the very things that were designed for our gladness.


Verse by Verse Commentary

7 The new wine mourns; The vine languishes; All the glad of heart sigh.

Isaiah begins with the source of ancient celebration: wine. But the wine itself is personified; it mourns. The very substance of joy is grieving. This is a poetic way of saying the grape harvest has failed, which in an agrarian society is a catastrophe. The vine languishes, it is sick and weak. The effect of this agricultural failure is a spiritual failure. Those who were once "glad of heart," the party-goers and celebrants, are now sighing. Their gladness was dependent on external circumstances, on the fruit of the vine. When the external blessing is removed, their internal state collapses. This is the fragility of all worldly joy. It is dependent on a steady supply of wine, or money, or entertainment. When God shuts off the supply line, the gladness evaporates into a sigh.

8 The joy of tambourines ceases; The rumbling of those exulting stops; The joy of the harp ceases.

From the drink, Isaiah moves to the music. The instruments of popular celebration are silenced. The tambourine, the harp, the joyful noise (rumbling) of a festival, it has all gone quiet. This is not the quiet of peace and contentment, but the dead silence of a city after a plague. God's judgment has a sound, and that sound is often silence. He removes the soundtrack of their rebellion. A healthy culture is a noisy culture, filled with the sounds of children playing, craftsmen working, and people singing. A culture under judgment falls silent. The exultation, the revelry, has stopped. It is important to note that God is not against tambourines and harps. David used them to worship God with all his might. The problem is not the instrument, but the heart of the player and the purpose of the song.

9 They do not drink wine with song; Strong drink is bitter to those who drink it.

This verse is psychologically profound. Even if they could find some wine, the spirit for celebration is gone. They don't pair their drinking with song anymore. The whole point of celebratory drinking has been subverted. More than that, the drink itself has turned on them. The "strong drink is bitter." The substance hasn't changed, but the palate of the drinker has. Sin has consequences that reach all the way down to our taste buds. The thing that once brought pleasure now brings a bitter taste. This is what happens when God gives people over to their lusts. The thrill is temporary, but the bitterness is lasting. They pursued pleasure so hard that they broke their ability to feel pleasure. It is a picture of addiction and despair.

10 The city of chaos is broken down; Every house is shut up so that none may enter.

Now the lens pulls back from the party to the whole civic structure. The city is described as a "city of chaos." The Hebrew is tohu, the same word used in Genesis 1:2 to describe the earth when it was "formless and void." This is a city that has been de-created. It has been returned to a state of primordial chaos. All the order, structure, and commerce that make a city function have been broken down. The response of the citizens is to retreat. "Every house is shut up." This is social collapse. Community is gone. Trust has evaporated. Everyone is locked in their own home, isolated and afraid. A thriving city is one where doors are open and people move freely. A city under judgment is a collection of sealed tombs.

11 There is an outcry in the streets concerning the wine; All gladness turns to gloom. The joy of the earth is taken away into exile.

Even in their isolation, there is a public cry. The thing they lament is the lack of wine. This shows where their ultimate hope was placed. They are not crying out to God for their sin; they are crying out for the lost object of their idolatry. The result is a total transformation of the public mood. "All gladness turns to gloom." The Hebrew word for gloom here means darkness, like the setting of the sun. The light of joy has been extinguished. Then Isaiah gives us this stunning summary statement: "The joy of the earth is taken away into exile." Joy is treated like a person, a captive taken away to a foreign land. It has been banished. This is a covenantal reality. When a people go into exile for their sin, their joy goes with them. They are left with the land, but it is a land bereft of gladness.

12 Desolation remains in the city, And the gate is struck down to ruins.

The final verse of this section gives us the summary condition. What is left after the joy is exiled? Desolation. Emptiness. A hollowed-out ruin. The gate of the city, which was the center of public life, commerce, and justice, is destroyed. A broken gate means the city is defenseless, its legal structures are gone, and its economic life is over. It is a picture of complete and utter civic death. The city that was once full of people, music, and wine is now a silent, desolate ruin. This is the end of the road for any people who believe they can build a society on a foundation of rebellion against the living God.


Application

We live in a society that is desperately pursuing joy and celebration through every possible avenue, and yet seems to be finding less and less of it. Our culture is awash in entertainment, intoxicants, and noise, yet it is marked by a deep and pervasive anxiety, bitterness, and gloom. This passage from Isaiah explains why. True, lasting joy is a fruit of righteousness. It is a byproduct of a right relationship with the covenant God through Jesus Christ. When a society, like ours, transgresses the laws, changes the ordinances, and breaks the everlasting covenant, it should not be surprised when the wine starts to taste bitter and the music stops.

The application for us as Christians is twofold. First, we must see this as a warning. We cannot flirt with the sins of the world and expect to retain the joy of the Lord. When we harbor sin, when we refuse to repent, God in His fatherly discipline will often remove our sense of His joyful presence. He spanks us by taking away our joy, to drive us back to Him, the only source of true joy. As David prayed, "Restore to me the joy of your salvation" (Ps. 51:12).

Second, we are to be agents of true joy in a world of gloom. Our joy is not based on the stock market or the outcome of an election. Our joy is grounded in the unshakable reality of the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Because He lives, we have a hope and a gladness that cannot be taken into exile. Therefore, in a world of silent harps, we are to sing. In a world of bitter wine, we are to celebrate the feast of the Lord's Supper, the foretaste of that great wedding feast to come. We are citizens of a city whose gates will never be struck down, and it is our task to live as such, demonstrating to a desolate world that the King has come to make all things new, and that in His presence, and in His presence alone, is fullness of joy.