Commentary - Isaiah 40:21-26

Bird's-eye view

This magnificent section of Isaiah is a divine taunt directed at the twin follies of human arrogance and idolatry. Having just described the pathetic process of manufacturing an idol that cannot even stand up on its own (vv. 19-20), the prophet, speaking for God, now unleashes a torrent of rhetorical questions designed to awaken Israel from her spiritual stupor. The argument is an appeal to what is self-evident, to what has been known from the very beginning. The God who created all things is transcendent, sitting enthroned above the cosmos, viewing humanity in its proper, grasshopper-sized perspective. He is the one who establishes and deposes earthly rulers with a mere breath. The central challenge of the passage is a confrontation with all human attempts to domesticate God or reduce Him to a manageable size. He is the Holy One, utterly unique and without equal. The final proof is an invitation to basic astronomy: look up. The ordered majesty of the heavens declares a Creator whose power is absolute and whose knowledge is personal and exhaustive. This is not abstract theology; it is comfort for a discouraged people, reminding them that the God who marshals the stars by name is more than capable of managing their affairs.

The entire passage functions as a massive course correction for our thinking. We are naturally inclined to shrink God down and inflate our own importance. We fret over politicians and world events as if everything depended on them. Isaiah here grabs us by the shoulders, turns our heads upward, and tells us to get a grip. The God who stretched out the heavens like a bed sheet is the God who is sovereign over your life. This is the foundation of all true comfort and the death of all anxiety.

Outline

Context In Isaiah

Isaiah 40 marks a major shift in the book of Isaiah. The first thirty-nine chapters are largely filled with prophecies of judgment against Judah and the surrounding nations, culminating in the announcement of the Babylonian exile. But with chapter 40, the theme turns decisively to comfort, hope, and restoration. The chapter opens with the famous words, "Comfort, comfort my people, says your God." The context for our passage is God's self-revelation as the only one who can truly offer this comfort. He does so by contrasting His own infinite power and wisdom with the utter vanity of idols (40:18-20) and the fleeting impotence of human rulers. This section, from verse 12 through verse 26, is a sustained argument for the absolute sovereignty and uniqueness of Yahweh. It serves to answer the despairing cry of Israel, which will be articulated in verse 27: "My way is hidden from the LORD, and my right is disregarded by my God." This majestic portrait of God as the transcendent Creator and sovereign King is the necessary premise for the conclusion that follows: the God who does not faint or grow weary gives strength to those who wait for Him (40:28-31).

Key Issues

The Great Un-askable Question

The central question of this passage, posed by God Himself, is "To whom then will you liken Me?" This is the question that undercuts all idolatry, both ancient and modern. Idolatry is the attempt to make God manageable, to create a god in our own image, or at least in an image we can control. We want a god we can put on the mantelpiece, a god who fits into our political programs, a god who blesses our trivial pursuits. But the God of Isaiah refuses to be put in any box.

The argument Isaiah builds is designed to make any comparison laughable. How do you compare the one who sits above the circle of the earth with anything on the earth? How do you liken the one who stretches out the heavens to a carved block of wood? How do you find an equal for the one who calls every star by its personal name? The answer is that you cannot. He is in a category all by Himself. He is the Creator; everything else is the creature. And the distance between the Creator and the creature is an infinite distance. This is not just a metaphysical point; it is the foundation of all true worship. We do not worship a bigger, better version of ourselves. We worship the Holy One, the one who is utterly other, and yet, miraculously, the one who has chosen to make Himself known to us.

Verse by Verse Commentary

21 Do you not know? Have you not heard? Has it not been declared to you from the beginning? Have you not understood from the foundations of the earth?

The prophet begins with a battery of four rhetorical questions, each one driving the point home with increasing intensity. This is not new information. This is not some esoteric secret. This is basic, foundational, kindergarten-level truth. The knowledge of God the Creator is something they should know instinctively and something they should have heard repeatedly from the proclamation of the law and the prophets. It has been declared from the beginning of their history as a people, and it is something that can be understood from the foundations of the earth. This last phrase points to what theologians call general revelation. The created order itself testifies to the power and wisdom of its Maker. Paul picks up this very theme in Romans 1, arguing that God's eternal power and divine nature are clearly perceived in the things that have been made, leaving men without excuse. Isaiah is saying to a forgetful Israel, "Wake up! The evidence is all around you and has been from day one. Your problem is not a lack of information but a willful ignorance."

22 It is He who inhabits above the circle of the earth, And its inhabitants are like grasshoppers; It is He who stretches out the heavens like a curtain And spreads them out like a tent to inhabit.

Here is the content of that foundational knowledge. First, God is transcendent. He sits, or is enthroned, above the "circle of the earth." This is not a scientific statement about cosmology in the modern sense, but a phenomenological one about God's exalted, sovereign position over all of His creation. From His lofty vantage point, the inhabitants of the earth, with all their bustling and striving, are like grasshoppers. This is a humbling, but necessary, perspective. Our political crises, our grand projects, our fearsome armies, to the sovereign God, it is all the scurrying of insects. Second, He is the effortless Creator. He stretches out the heavens like a curtain. The vast expanse of the cosmos, which baffles our greatest minds, was for Him a simple act, like hanging a drape. He spreads them out like a tent for habitation, reminding us that this universe is His dwelling place. He is not an absentee landlord; He inhabits what He has made.

23 It is He who reduces rulers to nothing, Who makes the judges of the earth utterly formless.

From the cosmic, He moves to the political. If all inhabitants are like grasshoppers, then the most powerful among them, the rulers and judges, are no exception. God is the one who brings them to nothing. The word for "nothing" is the same as in Genesis 1:2, where the earth was "formless and void." He can unmake them. He can return their authority and power to a state of primordial chaos. This is a direct assault on the human tendency to place ultimate trust or ultimate fear in political figures. The Nebuchadnezzars and Pharaohs and Caesars of this world strut on the stage for a moment, imagining they are in charge, but the true King is enthroned in the heavens, and He sets the terms of their rule and the day of their dismissal.

24 Scarcely have they been planted; Scarcely have they been sown; Scarcely has their stem taken root in the earth, But He merely blows on them, and they wither, And the storm carries them away like stubble.

Isaiah now uses a botanical metaphor to emphasize the fragility of these earthly powers. Their rise to power is like a plant being sown and taking root. It seems secure, established, permanent. But scarcely have they begun before God can end it all. The repetition of "scarcely" highlights the brevity of their reign from God's perspective. And how does He accomplish their downfall? Not with great effort, but with a mere puff of breath. He merely blows on them, and they wither. His breath is a scorching wind, and a storm then comes to sweep away the dried-up stubble. This is what the grandest human empires amount to before the sovereignty of God: a plant that withers at His breath and chaff that blows away in the wind.

25 “To whom then will you liken Me That I would be his equal?” says the Holy One.

After this majestic description of His power over creation and kings, God Himself speaks. This is the central challenge. In light of all this, who is My peer? What can you possibly compare Me to? The question is designed to expose the absurdity of all idolatry. Men take a piece of wood, something God made, and fashion it into a god to be worshiped. They take a human ruler, a grasshopper whom God can blow away like dust, and treat him as a savior. God's challenge forces a cognitive reset. He signs the question with His name: says the Holy One. Holiness means to be set apart, to be in a class by oneself. His very nature is to be incomparable.

26 Lift up your eyes on high And see who has created these stars, The One who leads forth their host by number, He calls them all by name; Because of the greatness of His vigor and the strength of His power, Not one of them is missing.

The final proof is an invitation to look up at the night sky. Contemplate the sheer number and vastness of the stars. And then ask the question: who has created these? The answer is Yahweh. But He is not just a distant, deistic creator. He is the commanding officer of this celestial army. He leads forth their host by number, like a general reviewing his troops. More than that, His knowledge is personal and exhaustive: He calls them all by name. For God, the universe is not an impersonal collection of objects; it is a roster of named individuals. The reason for this perfect order is His own character: His great vigor and mighty power. Because He is who He is, not one of them is missing. The universe runs with perfect precision because the all-powerful, all-knowing God is personally superintending every last detail. The application for a beleaguered Israel is obvious: if God can manage a universe of stars, calling each one by name, do you really think your personal case has escaped His notice?

Application

The application of this passage crashes into our modern world with gale force. We live in an age that has systematically tried to forget everything Isaiah is proclaiming. We have been taught to see the universe as a cosmic accident, and ourselves as the most intelligent grasshoppers on the planet. Our news cycles are dominated by the pronouncements of rulers and judges, and we are conditioned to hang on their every word as though the fate of the world rested on their shoulders.

This passage is a call to a radical, God-centered reorientation of our entire lives. It commands us to practice a kind of spiritual astronomy. We are to regularly "lift up our eyes on high" and recalibrate our perspective. When we are tempted to fear a politician, we must remember that God blows on them and they wither. When we are tempted to despair over our circumstances, we must remember the one who leads forth the host of heaven by name. Not one star is missing from His roll call, and not one of His children is forgotten.

The ultimate answer to the question "To whom will you liken God?" is found in the New Testament. God, the incomparable One, has given us an image of Himself. "He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation" (Col. 1:15). In Jesus Christ, the transcendent Creator became a grasshopper. The one who stretched out the heavens was wrapped in swaddling cloths. The one who calls the stars by name became a man and dwelt among us. He did this so that we, the frail and fleeting creatures of dust, might be reconciled to the Holy One. Our comfort is not simply that God is big and powerful, but that this infinitely powerful God has, in Christ, drawn near to us in love.