Commentary - Isaiah 33:7-9

Bird's-eye view

In these verses, Isaiah paints a picture of utter societal collapse. This is not just a military defeat or an economic downturn; it is the fabric of a nation coming apart at the seams. The prophet is describing the consequences of covenant unfaithfulness. When a people forsakes the Lord, the very structures of their society begin to dissolve. The valor of their mighty men turns to weeping in the public square, diplomacy fails, commerce ceases, and the land itself reflects the spiritual sickness of its inhabitants. This is a portrait of a land under divine judgment, a land whose leaders have broken faith with God and man, and the result is desolation, bitterness, and humiliation.

This passage serves as a stark warning. The stability and prosperity of any nation are not ultimately found in its military strength, its economic policies, or its diplomatic savvy. They are found in its fidelity to the covenant God. When that covenant is broken, as Assyria has done here and as Israel has done repeatedly, the blessings of that covenant are withdrawn and the curses are poured out. The world becomes a barren and dangerous place. The created order itself, from the highways to the forests of Lebanon, groans under the weight of man's rebellion. This is what it looks like when God begins to withdraw His hand of blessing.

Outline

Context In Isaiah

Chapter 33 of Isaiah is a prophetic oracle, a woe pronounced against a treacherous destroyer, almost certainly Sennacherib, the king of Assyria. The immediate context is the Assyrian invasion of Judah in the reign of King Hezekiah. Jerusalem is under siege, and the nation is on the brink of annihilation. The prophet has been calling Judah to trust in the Lord rather than in foreign alliances, like their disastrous pact with Egypt. This section, verses 7-9, describes the human perspective on the ground. All human efforts have failed. The warriors are impotent, the diplomats are humiliated, and the nation is in a state of shock and despair. This sets the stage for the dramatic shift in verse 10, where the Lord declares, "Now will I arise." The utter helplessness of man is the backdrop for the display of God's sovereign power to save.

This passage fits into the larger theme of Isaiah, which is the folly of trusting in the arm of flesh and the wisdom of trusting in the Holy One of Israel. Judah's sin has brought this judgment upon them, and Assyria is God's instrument of chastisement. But Assyria, in its arrogance, oversteps its commission and will in turn be judged. These verses show the terrifying reality of being on the receiving end of God's disciplinary action. It is a state of affairs where all the normal structures of life and society cease to function.

Clause-by-Clause Commentary

v. 7 Behold, their brave men cry in the streets;

The first thing to note is the public nature of this grief. This is not private sorrow behind closed doors. The mighty men, the 'ariels' or heroes, are crying out loud in the streets. The street is the place of public life, of commerce, of civic gathering. For it to become a place of open wailing by the nation's strongest men signifies a complete breakdown of morale. The men who are supposed to project strength and confidence are openly despairing. This is what happens when a nation's confidence is placed in its own strength. When that strength fails, as it always must, there is nothing left but public, shameless weeping. The facade of masculine, military invincibility has crumbled. This is a picture of a society that has lost its nerve because it has lost its God.

The messengers of peace weep bitterly.

Diplomacy has failed. Hezekiah had sent ambassadors to the Assyrian king Sennacherib to sue for peace, even stripping the temple of its gold to pay the tribute demanded (2 Kings 18:14-16). But the Assyrians were treacherous. They took the payment and broke the treaty anyway. These messengers, who went out hoping to secure peace, return with nothing but bitter tears. Their mission was a failure, and their weeping is bitter because of the sting of betrayal. They have been made fools of. This highlights the futility of trying to appease a godless enemy through compromise and appeasement. When you are dealing with a covenant-breaker, you cannot trust his word. The pursuit of peace apart from righteousness leads only to bitter disappointment and humiliation.

v. 8 The highways are desolate, the traveler has ceased;

Here we see the collapse of civil society. Commerce and travel require a basic level of peace and public trust. When the highways are desolate, it means that law and order have broken down. It is no longer safe to travel. The "traveler has ceased" because the roads are controlled by predators. This is a direct consequence of the spiritual state of the nation. When God's law is ignored, the law of the jungle takes over. A society that forsakes God will not long enjoy the basic blessings of safety and free commerce. The desolation of the highways is a physical manifestation of the spiritual desolation of the people. They are isolated, fearful, and unable to conduct the normal business of life.

He has broken the covenant, he has rejected the cities;

The pronoun "he" refers to the enemy, Sennacherib. This is the heart of the matter. The issue is covenantal. The Assyrian has broken his solemn agreement. In the ancient world, a covenant was a sacred bond, and to break it was an act of profound impiety that invited curses from the gods. But the Assyrian, in his hubris, fears neither God nor man. He "rejects the cities," meaning he holds them in contempt, viewing them as nothing more than plunder. He does not see them as places of human community to be respected, but as objects to be devoured. This is the mindset of the tyrant who believes his own power is ultimate. He is a law unto himself, which is to say, he is a fool who has set himself against the living God.

He has no regard for man.

This follows directly from the previous clause. The covenant-breaker ultimately has no regard for man because he has no regard for God. If there is no transcendent law, no divine witness to oaths, then there is no basis for treating other human beings with dignity or respect. They become mere instruments or obstacles to your will. The sanctity of human life, the value of a promise, the worth of a city, all these things are rooted in the fact that man is made in the image of God and lives before the face of God. When you remove God from the equation, as the Assyrian has done, all that remains is raw power and contempt for the weak. This is a direct assault on the created order.

v. 9 The land mourns and languishes,

The prophet now extends the picture of desolation to the natural world itself. The land is personified; it mourns and languishes. This is a consistent biblical theme. The fate of the land is tied to the spiritual condition of its people (Lev. 18:25; Rom. 8:22). When man sins, the creation groans. The curse that fell in Eden reverberates through history. The land's mourning is not a poetic metaphor in the modern sense; it is a theological reality. The ground that was made to be fruitful and to reflect the glory of its Creator becomes barren and sick when polluted by the rebellion of man. The judgment of God on a nation is written into the very soil.

Lebanon is humiliated and withers;

Lebanon was famous for its magnificent cedar forests. It was a symbol of glory, strength, and majesty. For Lebanon to be "humiliated and wither" is a powerful image of reversal. That which was glorious is brought low. That which was strong is made weak. The judgment of God strips away all the false glories of the world. The pride of man, symbolized by the towering cedars of Lebanon, is humbled. The withering signifies a cutting off from the source of life. Just as the nation has cut itself off from God, the source of all life, so its natural glories wither and die.

Sharon is like a desert plain,

The plain of Sharon was renowned for its fertility and beauty, a place of lush pastures and flowers (Song of Sol. 2:1). For it to become like a desert is another stark image of the curse in action. God's blessing makes the desert blossom like a rose (Isa. 35:1), but His judgment turns the garden into a wasteland. This is a reversal of the exodus and conquest, where God brought His people into a land flowing with milk and honey. Now, because of their sin, that same land is reverting to a wilderness. The blessings of the covenant are being systematically undone.

And Bashan and Carmel lose their foliage.

Bashan was known for its rich pastures and strong oaks. Carmel was a byword for beauty and fruitfulness. For them to "lose their foliage" or, as some translations have it, "shake off their leaves," is a picture of autumn and death. The life is draining out of the land. The trees are bare, the pastures are gone. Everything that was once a sign of God's goodness and provision has been stripped away. The entire land, from the northern mountains of Lebanon to the fertile plains and hills, is experiencing the wasting effects of God's judgment. The point is comprehensive: when a people turns from God, no corner of their world is left untouched by the consequences.

Application

The application for us is straightforward, though hard. We live in a nation that has broken covenant in spectacular fashion. We have despised God's law, we have called good evil and evil good, and we have trusted in our own military and economic might. These verses in Isaiah are not just ancient history; they are a mirror. We should not be surprised when our brave men weep in the streets, when our diplomatic efforts end in bitter humiliation, when our highways become unsafe, and when our culture is filled with a contempt for man.

We see the land itself beginning to languish under this judgment. Our cultural Lebanon, once a mighty cedar, is humiliated. Our cultural Sharon, once a fruitful plain, is becoming a desert of sterility and confusion. This is what judgment looks like in its early stages. The foundations are being shaken.

The response is not to despair, but to see this as the necessary backdrop for God's intervention. It is precisely when all human hope has failed that God says, "Now will I arise." Our job is to be the faithful remnant that cries out to God, that confesses our sins and the sins of our people, and that trusts not in princes or politicians, but in the Lord who made heaven and earth. The path to restoration begins with acknowledging the reality of the judgment and turning back to the God who is rich in mercy, the God who alone can make the desert bloom again.