Commentary - Isaiah 35:1-2

Bird's-eye view

Isaiah 35 is a burst of sunlight after the storm of judgment described in the previous chapter. It is a magnificent prophecy of gospel restoration, a picture of what happens when the King returns to His people and His world. The central theme is the radical and joyful reversal of the curse. Everything that the fall broke, the gospel comes to mend, and it does not just restore things to their original state; it elevates them to a new level of glory. The desert, the very symbol of God's judgment and human desolation, is here personified as a joyful recipient of this grace. It does not just get a little water; it erupts in song and is clothed with the splendor of Lebanon. This physical transformation of the landscape is a powerful metaphor for the spiritual transformation of the human heart and, by extension, the nations of the world when the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ is revealed.

This is not a sentimental poem about nature. It is a robust theological statement about the power and purpose of God in redemption. The joy is loud, the growth is profuse, and the reason for it all is explicit: "They will see the glory of Yahweh." The healing of the land, the healing of the people, and the joy of the redeemed are all direct consequences of a true sight of God. This chapter is a foundational text for a Christian worldview that expects the gospel to have a tangible, visible, and glorious impact on the entire world, turning wastelands into gardens.

Outline

Context In Isaiah

This chapter stands in stark and deliberate contrast to Isaiah 34. Chapter 34 describes the final, fiery judgment of God upon Edom, which stands as a representative of all the nations that have set themselves against God and His people. It is a picture of total and permanent desolation, a land turned to burning pitch and brimstone, a haunt for demons and unclean creatures. Then, without a break, the prophet pivots to chapter 35, describing a world made new. This is the great antithesis. The world is divided into two camps, and there are only two possible destinies: the perpetual wasteland of Edom under God's curse, or the flourishing garden of Zion under God's blessing. This passage, therefore, is not about a generic hope for a better future, but about the specific hope of God's covenant people. It describes the blessings that flow from the King's return to Zion, a return that ultimately finds its fulfillment in the coming of Jesus Christ and the establishment of His kingdom through the gospel.

Key Issues

The Laughing Desert

When the gospel takes root, the world changes. This is not a matter of wishful thinking; it is the bedrock promise of God's Word, and Isaiah 35 is one of its most vibrant expressions. We are so accustomed to a pinched and pessimistic view of the faith, where the best we can hope for is a quiet escape from a world destined to get worse and worse. But this is not the vision of the prophet. The prophet sees the gospel as an invasive force, a life-giving flood that turns the driest, most barren places into something glorious. The world is not a sinking ship for us to abandon; it is a desert waiting for the word of the King, waiting to bloom.

The transformation described here is total. It is not just spiritual and internal, though it is certainly that. It is also physical, cultural, and ecological. The land itself, which was cursed for man's sake, rejoices when man is redeemed. This is what Paul talks about in Romans 8, where the creation groans in anticipation of the revealing of the sons of God. Here in Isaiah, we see what that revealing looks like. It looks like joy, it sounds like singing, and it results in a world clothed in a glory that surpasses even the original creation.

Verse by Verse Commentary

1 The wilderness and the desert will be delighted, And the Arabah will rejoice and flourish; Like the crocus

The prophecy begins by identifying the subjects of this great change: the wilderness, the desert, the Arabah. These are not just poetic terms; they describe places of barrenness, desolation, and curse. The Arabah is the great rift valley, a notoriously arid and lifeless region. This is where the gospel does its best work, not in the already cultivated gardens, but in the wastelands. And the response of these wastelands is not passive. They are delighted and they rejoice. The Hebrew personifies the land, granting it the emotions of a redeemed soul. The curse made the ground sterile and resistant; grace makes it fertile and joyful. The promise is that it will "flourish like the crocus," a flower known for its ability to bloom in dry conditions, often being the first sign of life after a long winter. The gospel brings life where no life is expected.

2 It will flourish profusely And rejoice with rejoicing and shout of joy. The glory of Lebanon will be given to it, The majesty of Carmel and Sharon. They will see the glory of Yahweh, The majesty of our God.

The transformation is not minimal; it is extravagant. It will flourish profusely. This is the nature of God's grace; it is never just enough, it is always overflowing, pressed down, shaken together, and running over. The joy is not a quiet, private affair. The desert will "rejoice with rejoicing and shout of joy." This is public, corporate, loud celebration. This is revival. And the quality of this new life is unparalleled. The desert will be given "the glory of Lebanon," famous for its magnificent cedars. It will be given "the majesty of Carmel and Sharon," regions known for their lush forests and rich pastures. In other words, the redeemed wasteland will not just become a decent place; it will receive the best characteristics of the most blessed places. The gospel does not just reform us; it glorifies us, making us more than we ever were before the fall.

And here, at the end of verse two, we get the engine that drives this whole glorious process. Why does the desert bloom? Why does the wilderness sing? Because "They will see the glory of Yahweh, the majesty of our God." True, lasting transformation is always a consequence of seeing God for who He is. When the light of the knowledge of the glory of God shines in our hearts, as Paul says, the new creation begins. It is the revelation of God's character, His holy love, His sovereign power, His covenant faithfulness, that turns deserts into gardens. The entire project of redemption is designed so that the world might see Him more clearly, and in seeing Him, be healed.

Application

This passage is a direct command to be postmillennial. That is to say, it commands us to be people of a robust and joyful hope, expecting the victory of the gospel in history. Our personal lives can often feel like a desert. Our families can feel like wastelands. Our culture certainly appears to be a wilderness. The temptation is to despair, to retreat, to manage the decline. But that is the opposite of what this text teaches.

The gospel is the water of life, and Jesus did not bring a bucket of it; He brought a river. We are called to believe that this river flows into the deadest places and brings life. We should therefore pray for, work for, and expect the transformation of our own hearts, our homes, our churches, and our nations. We must reject the gnostic impulse to devalue the physical world. God is not just saving souls; He is redeeming His whole creation. The glory of Lebanon is a real glory, and it is a gift from God. Our work in the world, our building of families and cultures, is part of this process of the desert learning to bloom.

And the key to it all is to keep our eyes fixed on the glory of God. We cannot produce this transformation ourselves. But we can preach the Christ in whom all the majesty of God is revealed. As the church faithfully proclaims the glory of God in the face of Jesus, we can be confident that the deserts of this world will, in His time and in His way, learn to shout for joy.