Commentary - Isaiah 36:13-20

Bird's-eye view

In this passage, we are not simply reading an ancient military transcript. We are watching a master class in satanic temptation, delivered by the Assyrian field commander, Rabshakeh. The enemy is at the gates of Jerusalem, and the assault is not just military but profoundly theological. Rabshakeh's speech is a calculated piece of psychological warfare, designed to sever the people's trust from their king, Hezekiah, and more importantly, from their God, Yahweh. He employs a three-pronged attack: undermine godly authority, offer a counterfeit gospel of peace and prosperity, and present a pragmatic, evidence-based argument for the impotence of God. This is the age-old strategy of the serpent in the Garden: question God's word, question God's goodness, and then present a worldly alternative that looks appealing but leads to death and exile.

The entire confrontation is a test of faith. Will the people of God believe the very loud, very persuasive, and very visible evidence of Assyria's might? Or will they trust the unseen promises of a God whose track record, according to the world's metrics, is about to be proven a failure? Rabshakeh's blasphemy is not just in his words, but in his worldview. He places Yahweh on the same level as the petty gods of the conquered nations, viewing Him as just another tribal deity to be added to Assyria's trophy case. This sets the stage for God's dramatic and decisive answer, proving that He is not just one god among many, but the sovereign King over all kings and all nations.

Outline

Context In Isaiah

This historical narrative in chapters 36-39 serves as the crucible for the prophecies that have come before it. For chapters, Isaiah has been warning Judah against trusting in foreign alliances, particularly Egypt, and calling them to a radical, exclusive trust in Yahweh. Hezekiah's reforms were a step in the right direction, but the temptation to lean on the arm of flesh remained. Now, that temptation is stripped away. Egypt is a non-factor, and the Assyrian war machine, the premier global superpower, is parked on Jerusalem's doorstep. This is the final exam. All the theological lectures are over. Will Judah trust in the Lord alone, as Isaiah has preached, or will they capitulate to the overwhelming logic of the world, articulated so powerfully by Rabshakeh? This event is the historical hinge that demonstrates the truth of God's sovereignty and the folly of trusting in anything else, setting the stage for the later prophecies of comfort and restoration that begin in chapter 40.

Key Issues

Commentary

13 Then Rabshakeh stood and cried with a loud voice in Judean and said, “Hear the words of the great king, the king of Assyria.

The first thing to note is the posture and method. Rabshakeh stands. He projects authority. He cries with a loud voice. This is not a quiet negotiation in a back room. This is a public spectacle, intended to intimidate and demoralize. And he speaks in Judean, the language of the common man on the wall. The Jewish officials had asked him to speak in Aramaic, the language of diplomacy, but Rabshakeh refuses. The enemy's tactic is always to bypass legitimate authority and appeal directly to the fears and appetites of the people. He wants to start a panic, to incite a rebellion from within. He claims to speak for "the great king," but this is a direct challenge to the people of the true Great King. The battle lines are drawn: it is the word of the king of Assyria versus the Word of the King of Heaven.

14 Thus says the king, ‘Do not let Hezekiah deceive you, for he will not be able to deliver you; 15 and do not let Hezekiah make you trust in Yahweh, saying, “Yahweh will surely deliver us, this city will not be given into the hand of the king of Assyria.”

The opening salvo is an attack on the mediator. Hezekiah, the king, is God's appointed leader for the people. The first thing the devil does is try to drive a wedge between the sheep and the shepherd. He accuses Hezekiah of deception. And what is this great deception? It is the call to faith. Rabshakeh frames trust in God as a political trick, a lie the king is telling to maintain power. He says Hezekiah "will not be able to deliver you," which is true enough. Hezekiah the man cannot. But then he immediately pivots to the real target: "do not let Hezekiah make you trust in Yahweh." The enemy knows that the power is not in the king himself, but in the God the king trusts. So he must discredit both. He quotes the very essence of Hezekiah's faith, "Yahweh will surely deliver us," and mocks it as wishful thinking. This is the voice of secularism in every age: your faith is a crutch, a deception, a fantasy that will fail you when confronted with hard reality.

16 Do not listen to Hezekiah,’ for thus says the king of Assyria, ‘Make your peace with me and come out to me, and eat each of his vine and each of his fig tree, and drink each of the waters of his own cistern, 17 until I come and take you away to a land like your own land, a land of grain and new wine, a land of bread and vineyards.

Having attacked the truth, the enemy now offers his alternative. And it is a counterfeit gospel. He says, "Make your peace with me." The Hebrew is literally "make a blessing with me." This is a satanic parody of covenantal peace. He offers them the very image of biblical shalom: every man under his own vine and fig tree (cf. 1 Kings 4:25). It is an appeal to their immediate, physical desires. The siege is hard. Food and water are likely being rationed. And Rabshakeh offers them a feast. But every deal with the devil has fine print. The blessing is temporary: "until I come and take you away." The promise of prosperity is just bait. The hook is deportation and exile. He promises them a land "like your own land," but it is not the Promised Land. It is a cheap imitation, a land of slavery under a pagan king. The devil always offers a shortcut to blessing that bypasses the need for faith and obedience, and it always ends in bondage.

18 Beware lest Hezekiah mislead you, saying, “Yahweh will deliver us.” Has any one of the gods of the nations delivered his land from the hand of the king of Assyria? 19 Where are the gods of Hamath and Arpad? Where are the gods of Sepharvaim? And when have they delivered Samaria from my hand?

Here is the intellectual core of the argument: raw, empirical pragmatism. Rabshakeh says, "Don't listen to theology; look at the facts on the ground. Look at history." His argument is simple: no god has ever stood up to Assyria. He rattles off a list of conquered cities and their now-defunct deities. Hamath, Arpad, Sepharvaim, their gods are all in the dustbin of history. This is a powerful and persuasive argument if your worldview is flat, if there is no transcendent reality. The world always argues from what it can see, measure, and conquer. It demands that God prove Himself by the world's standards of power. Rabshakeh's most cunning point is his mention of Samaria. The Northern Kingdom also worshipped Yahweh, after a fashion. And Assyria crushed them. The implication is clear: "Your God has already failed once against us. What makes you think this time will be any different?"

20 Who among all the gods of these lands have delivered their land from my hand, that Yahweh would deliver Jerusalem from my hand?’ ”

This is the climax of the speech and the height of its blasphemy. Rabshakeh makes his fatal error. He takes Yahweh, the uncreated Creator of all things, and places Him in a lineup with the impotent idols of the pagan nations. He makes God a variable in a human equation. His logic is entirely horizontal. "If A, B, and C are all false, then D must be false as well." He cannot conceive of a God who is in a category all by Himself, a God who is not a local deity but the sovereign Lord of heaven and earth, the one who raised up Assyria for His own purposes. By asking "Who among all the gods," he lumps Yahweh in with the rest. By asking "...that Yahweh would deliver Jerusalem," he reduces the God of Abraham to a mere city-god, like the baal of Arpad. This is the ultimate insult, and it is this insult that God will answer directly, not for Jerusalem's sake alone, but for His own great name.

Application

Rabshakeh is not dead; he just works for the government now. Or the university. Or the media. His voice is the voice of our age. It is the voice of sophisticated, pragmatic unbelief that constantly whispers, and sometimes shouts, in our ears.

First, it tells us not to trust our pastors and elders when they call us to radical faith. It paints biblical faithfulness as naive and deceptive. It says, "Don't let those fundamentalists mislead you. Be reasonable. Compromise."

Second, it offers us a counterfeit gospel. It offers political peace, financial security, and personal comfort in exchange for a little compromise, a little pinch of incense to Caesar. "Just go along," it says. "You can have your vine and fig tree, you can have a comfortable life, as long as you don't take your faith too seriously in the public square. Just render to Caesar what is God's, and everything will be fine." But this offer always comes with the fine print of exile, of being taken away to a land that is like the Christian life, but is a sterile, powerless imitation.

Third, it argues from empiricism. It points to the power and success of the world and asks, "Where is your God? All the successful people, all the powerful institutions, they operate on secular principles. Do you really think your prayers can stand against the U.S. Supreme Court? Against the global economy? Against the consensus of science?" The temptation for the church is to believe this, to accept the world's definition of power, and to conclude that Yahweh is just one more god on a long list of failed deities. Our task is to stand on the wall, hear the blasphemies, and like Hezekiah, take them straight to the Lord in prayer, trusting that the God who is not like the others will answer for His own name's sake.