The Drunkard's Crown and the Lord's Diadem Text: Isaiah 28:1-6
Introduction: Two Kinds of Glory
The world offers us a particular kind of glory. It is a glory that is tied to our accomplishments, our wealth, our status, and our beauty. It is a glory that you can wear, like a crown of flowers at a feast. It is bright, it is fragrant, and it is intensely desirable. But the central problem with this kind of glory is that it is a fading glory. It is a cut-flower glory. The moment you put it on your head, it begins to die. The party is loud, the wine is flowing, but the garland on your brow is already starting to wilt.
This is the glory of Ephraim, the northern kingdom of Israel. They had achieved a measure of prosperity. Their capital, Samaria, was beautifully situated at the head of a fertile valley. They were proud of their accomplishments, proud of their beauty, and they had given themselves over to the celebration of it. But their celebration was a drunken stupor, and their glory was a fading flower. They were intoxicated with themselves, and God was about to send a sober and devastating judgment.
But the Bible is a book of glorious contrasts. God never pronounces a woe without, somewhere nearby, pronouncing a blessing. He never tears down without promising to build up. And so, in the midst of this searing indictment of Ephraim's proud and drunken glory, Isaiah pivots to show us another kind of glory, another kind of crown. This is not a crown that fades, because it is not a created thing. It is the Creator Himself. "In that day Yahweh of hosts will become a beautiful crown."
This passage sets before us two ways to live, two glories to pursue, two crowns to wear. One is the proud crown of the drunkard, which will be trampled underfoot. The other is the beautiful crown of Yahweh, which He Himself will place on the head of His remnant. One is the glory of man, which is like the flower of the field that withers and fades. The other is the glory of God, which endures forever. We are, all of us, choosing which crown to pursue every day of our lives.
The Text
Woe to the proud crown of the drunkards of Ephraim, And to the fading flower of its glorious beauty, Which is at the head of the fertile valley Of those who are overcome with wine! Behold, the Lord has a strong and courageous agent; As a storm of hail, a tempest of destruction, Like a storm of mighty overflowing waters, He has set it down to the earth with His hand. The proud crown of the drunkards of Ephraim is trodden under foot. And the fading flower of its glorious beauty, Which is at the head of the fertile valley, Will be like the first-ripe fig prior to summer, Which one sees, And as soon as it is in his hand, He swallows it. In that day Yahweh of hosts will become a beautiful crown And a glorious diadem to the remnant of His people; A spirit of just judgment for him who sits in judgment, A might to those who turn back the onslaught at the gate.
(Isaiah 28:1-6 LSB)
The Fading Crown of Pride (vv. 1, 3)
Isaiah begins with a funeral dirge for a kingdom that is still partying.
"Woe to the proud crown of the drunkards of Ephraim, And to the fading flower of its glorious beauty, Which is at the head of the fertile valley Of those who are overcome with wine!" (Isaiah 28:1)
The "proud crown" is Samaria, the capital city, perched on a hill like a garland on a feaster's head. But this is not a crown of righteousness; it is a crown of pride. Pride is the mother sin, the original rebellion. It is the refusal to acknowledge the Creator/creature distinction. Ephraim looked at their prosperity, their fertile valley, and their beautiful city, and they toasted themselves. They became drunk, not just on wine, but on their own perceived glory.
Notice the double reference to drunkenness. They are "drunkards" and they are "overcome with wine." This is both literal and spiritual. When a man is drunk, his judgment is impaired, his perceptions are distorted, and he is easily overcome. Spiritually, Ephraim was in the same state. They could not see reality clearly. They could not see the coming judgment because they were besotted with their own temporary success. A culture that gives itself over to intoxication, whether chemical or ideological, is a culture that is ripe for judgment because it has lost the ability to think straight.
And their glorious beauty is a "fading flower." All earthly glory is like this. It has a built-in expiration date. The athlete's strength fails, the beautiful face wrinkles, the powerful nation crumbles. To place your hope in such things is to build your house on a wilting petunia. It is a fool's errand. God is not against beauty or glory; He invented them. He is against the pride that claims them as its own and refuses to give Him the glory.
Verse 3 repeats the indictment for emphasis, and tells us the fate of this proud crown.
"The proud crown of the drunkards of Ephraim is trodden under foot." (Isaiah 28:3)
The thing they lifted up in pride, God will cast down in judgment. The crown they wore on their heads will be trampled in the mud. This is the unwavering principle of God's moral government: "God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble" (James 4:6). If you exalt yourself, God will see to your humbling. If you humble yourself, He will see to your exaltation. There is no third way.
The Sovereign Agent of Judgment (vv. 2, 4)
God does not just pronounce judgment; He executes it. And He does so through sovereignly appointed means.
"Behold, the Lord has a strong and courageous agent; As a storm of hail, a tempest of destruction, Like a storm of mighty overflowing waters, He has set it down to the earth with His hand." (Isaiah 28:2)
This "strong and courageous agent" is Assyria. But notice who is in charge. Assyria is not acting on its own initiative. They are an agent, a tool. God is the one who "has" them. He is the one who "has set it down to the earth with His hand." The storm of hail, the tempest of destruction, the mighty overflowing waters, these are all metaphors for the Assyrian army. But they are God's storm, God's tempest, God's flood. This is the doctrine of God's exhaustive sovereignty. God ordains whatsoever comes to pass, and this includes the sinful actions of wicked nations, which He uses to accomplish His righteous purposes without being the author of their sin. Assyria thinks it is building its own empire, but it is merely the axe in the hand of the divine Woodsman (Isaiah 10:15).
This is a hard doctrine, but it is our only comfort. If God is not sovereign over the storms, then we are at the mercy of the storms. But because He is, we know that even the most destructive judgments are measured, purposeful, and ultimately under His control.
Verse 4 gives us another image of how swift and total this judgment will be.
"And the fading flower of its glorious beauty... Will be like the first-ripe fig prior to summer, Which one sees, And as soon as it is in his hand, He swallows it." (Isaiah 28:4)
The first-ripe fig was a delicacy. It appeared before the main harvest and was eagerly sought after. The moment someone saw it, they would pluck it and eat it immediately. This is how quickly Samaria would fall. All their vaunted glory would be gobbled up in an instant by the Assyrian army. Their beauty, which they thought was so permanent, was actually an appetizer for God's judgment. It was here one moment, and gone the next, swallowed whole.
The Enduring Crown of Yahweh (vv. 5-6)
After the storm, after the flood, after the proud crown has been trampled and swallowed, what is left? God is left. And His people are left. And here is the glorious turn.
"In that day Yahweh of hosts will become a beautiful crown And a glorious diadem to the remnant of His people;" (Isaiah 28:5)
This phrase, "in that day," is a signpost in the prophets. It points to the time of God's decisive action, a time of judgment and salvation. After the false crown is destroyed, God Himself will become the true crown for His people. This is a staggering thought. Our glory is not something He gives us; our glory is Him. Our beauty is not a fading flower; it is the unchanging beauty of God Himself, clothing us.
But notice for whom this crown is intended: "to the remnant of His people." God's judgments are always purifying. The fire burns away the dross, but it refines the gold. Throughout the history of redemption, God has always preserved a faithful remnant. Noah and his family. Lot in Sodom. The seven thousand who did not bow the knee to Baal. The exiles who returned from Babylon. And ultimately, all those who are in Christ Jesus. The church is God's remnant. While the majority may chase after the fading crowns of this world, there will always be a people who have learned that their only true glory is God Himself.
And what does this crown do? What are the practical effects of wearing God as your glory? Verse 6 tells us.
"A spirit of just judgment for him who sits in judgment, A might to those who turn back the onslaught at the gate." (Isaiah 28:6)
When God is your crown, it changes how you function in the world. For the leaders, the judges, it provides "a spirit of just judgment." The drunkenness of Ephraim's leaders led to skewed judgment (v. 7). But those who wear Yahweh as their crown are given divine wisdom. They can see rightly, judge rightly, and lead rightly. They are sober-minded because their minds are stayed on God.
For the soldiers, the defenders of the city, it provides "a might to those who turn back the onslaught at the gate." When your glory is in yourself, your strength is limited and will ultimately fail. But when your glory is the Lord of Hosts, the commander of angel armies, you are given supernatural might. You can stand against the enemy, not in your own power, but in His. This applies to our spiritual warfare. We are to stand against the wiles of the devil, and we can only do so as we put on the full armor of God, whose strength is made perfect in our weakness.
Conclusion: Which Crown Will You Wear?
The choice before Ephraim is the same choice that is before us today. We can pursue the proud crown of self-achievement. We can get drunk on our own accomplishments, our own righteousness, our own cultural cachet. We can weave for ourselves a garland of fading flowers, and for a little while, we might be the life of the party. But that crown will be trampled. That flower will be swallowed. That glory is a dead end.
Or, we can humble ourselves. We can confess that all our righteousness is as filthy rags and that all our glory is a fading flower. We can repent of our pride and turn to God. And when we do, He does something astonishing. He takes off our crown of shame and He puts on us the crown of Himself. He becomes our glory. He becomes our beauty. He becomes our wisdom and our strength.
This is the great exchange of the gospel. Jesus Christ, the King of glory, took off His divine crown, so to speak. He humbled Himself, and came to earth. And on the cross, men mockingly gave Him a crown of thorns, the very symbol of the curse. He wore the crown of our pride and our rebellion. He was trampled under the feet of God's just wrath. He was swallowed by the grave. Why? So that we, the true drunkards of Ephraim, could be made sober. So that we, the remnant, could be given His crown, a beautiful crown, a glorious diadem. So that in that day, and for all eternity, Yahweh of hosts would be our glory.
So do not be intoxicated with the world. Do not chase its fading glories. Let God tear the proud crown from your head, and in its place, receive Him. For He alone is a crown that will never fade, and a glory that will never end.