The God Who Carries vs. The Gods Who Are Carried Text: Isaiah 46:3-4
Introduction: A Tale of Two Burdens
In our modern, sophisticated age, we imagine that we have outgrown the crude idolatries of the ancient world. We don't bow down to statues of Bel or Nebo, fashioned from wood and overlaid with gold. Or so we think. But the human heart is an idol factory, as Calvin rightly said, and it is always manufacturing gods that we can manage, gods that we can carry, gods that we can control. These gods may be ideologies, political saviors, personal ambitions, or even our own self-righteousness. But they all have one thing in common with the idols of Babylon: they are a burden. You have to carry them. You have to prop them up, defend them, and when they inevitably fail, you have to carry them off into the captivity of your own disillusionment.
The prophet Isaiah, in this forty-sixth chapter, draws a stark and glorious contrast. He begins by describing the idols of Babylon, Bel and Nebo, being loaded onto weary beasts, a heavy burden for tired animals, as they are carted off into exile. The gods that were supposed to deliver Babylon are themselves being taken captive. They cannot save their own statues, let alone the people who worship them. They are dead weight. They are a burden.
And then, with a dramatic turn, God speaks. He addresses His people, the remnant of Israel, and He presents them with a truth that shatters every form of man-made religion. The contrast is absolute. The gods of the nations are a burden to be carried by their worshippers. The God of Israel is the One who carries His worshippers. This is not a subtle distinction. It is the fundamental difference between the true and living God and every counterfeit. It is the difference between a religion of works and a religion of grace. It is the difference between slavery and salvation.
We must understand this. Every worldview, every religion, every philosophy of life can be sorted into one of these two categories. Either you are carrying your god, or your God is carrying you. There is no third option. And in these two verses, God makes His case with breathtaking tenderness and absolute authority.
The Text
"Hear Me, O house of Jacob, And all the remnant of the house of Israel, You who have been burdening Me from birth And have been carried from the womb; Even to your old age I will be the same, And even to your graying years I will bear you! I have done it, and I will carry you; And I will bear you, and I will rescue you."
(Isaiah 46:3-4 LSB)
The Lifelong Burden-Bearer (v. 3)
God begins with a summons to listen, a call to His covenant people.
"Hear Me, O house of Jacob, And all the remnant of the house of Israel, You who have been burdening Me from birth And have been carried from the womb;" (Isaiah 46:3)
Notice who He addresses. He calls them the "house of Jacob," reminding them of their origins with a flawed patriarch, a man whose name meant "supplanter." He also calls them the "remnant," acknowledging their brokenness, their sin, and the judgment that has reduced their numbers. God is not speaking to a triumphant, self-sufficient people. He is speaking to the weak, the weary, the sinful, the remnant. And this is where the gospel always begins.
Then comes the astonishing description of their relationship. The translation here, "burdening Me from birth," can also be rendered "borne by me from birth." Both ideas are true. They have been a burden to Him through their sin and rebellion, and yet, He has been the one bearing them all along. This is the story of Israel in the Old Testament. From the moment of their national "birth" in the exodus from Egypt, God has carried them. He bore them on eagles' wings (Ex. 19:4). He carried them through the wilderness as a father carries his son (Deut. 1:31). Their entire history is a testimony not to their strength, but to His long-suffering, burden-bearing grace.
This is a profound statement about the nature of God's grace. It is not a reward for good behavior. It is not a response to our strength. God's grace begins where we begin: in utter helplessness. From the womb, from our very beginning, we are dependent. Spiritually, we are born unable to do anything but be carried. The Christian life does not begin with our decision to carry our own weight for God. It begins when we recognize that He has been carrying us all along, even in our rebellion.
This is the Creator/creature distinction in action. The idols are made by men, and so men must carry them. But we are made by God, and so God must carry us. He is the potter; we are the clay. He is the shepherd; we are the sheep. He is the Father; we are the children. The direction of the action is always from Him to us. To reverse this is to commit the fundamental sin of idolatry, which is to try and make God into our image, a god who needs our help.
The Unchanging Carrier (v. 4)
God then extends this promise of His carrying grace throughout the entire lifespan of His people.
"Even to your old age I will be the same, And even to your graying years I will bear you! I have done it, and I will carry you; And I will bear you, and I will rescue you." (Isaiah 46:4)
This is a direct assault on the universal fear of abandonment. We live in a world where everything fades. Strength diminishes, youth vanishes, relationships break, and human support systems fail. But God declares His radical faithfulness. "Even to your old age I will be the same." This is the glory of His immutability. He is the great "I AM." He does not change. The God who carried you in the womb of your national birth is the same God who will carry you when your hair is gray and your strength is gone.
Our culture worships youth and strength. It discards the old and the weak. The pagan gods were always associated with power, virility, and success. When their worshippers grew weak, they were left to fend for themselves. But the true God's care is not contingent on our utility. His commitment is lifelong. His grace is not a temporary boost; it is a permanent, sustaining reality.
And notice the emphatic repetition. He piles up the verbs to make the point undeniable. "I have done it." This is not a new promise; it is a continuation of what He has always been doing. Look at your past, God says. I have a track record. "And I will carry you." This is the future promise. "And I will bear you." He says it again for emphasis. "And I will rescue you." This is the ultimate goal. He doesn't just carry us aimlessly. He carries us to a destination. He carries us out of bondage, through the wilderness, and into the promised land. He carries us out of sin and into final salvation.
This is the doctrine of sovereign grace in its purest form. Who is the actor in this verse? It is "I, I, I, I." God is the one who does it all. "I have done it... I will carry... I will bear... I will rescue." Our role is to be carried. Our role is to trust the One who is carrying us. This is the rest that Christ promises when He says, "Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest" (Matt. 11:28). The heavy laden are those who are trying to carry their own sins, their own righteousness, their own idols. The rest is found in ceasing from that burdensome labor and allowing ourselves to be carried by Him.
The Gospel Application
These verses are not just a comforting word for ancient Israel. They are a precise description of the gospel of Jesus Christ. For in the gospel, we see this contrast between the God who carries and the gods who are carried in its ultimate expression.
Every other religion, at its core, is a set of instructions for how man can carry himself to God. It is a ladder of works, rituals, and moral efforts. It is a heavy burden. But the gospel is the announcement that God, in Christ, has come to carry us to Himself.
How does He do it? He does it by becoming the ultimate burden-bearer. On the cross, Jesus Christ did not simply carry us; He carried our sin. "He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree" (1 Peter 2:24). The heaviest burden in the universe, the infinite weight of our rebellion against a holy God, was placed upon His shoulders. The gods of Babylon had to be carried into captivity. But Christ, our God, carried the curse of our captivity on Himself in order to set us free.
This is why the Christian life is one of casting our burdens on Him. "Cast your burden on the LORD, and he will sustain you" (Psalm 55:22). We are not called to a life of grim, white-knuckled endurance, trying to carry the weight of our sanctification. We are called to a life of faith, which is simply the art of letting God carry us. From the moment of our new birth, He carries us. Through the trials and struggles of life, He bears us up. And when we are old and gray, when our bodies fail and our minds grow weak, He will still be the same, carrying us all the way home.
So the question for you today is simple. What are you carrying? What idol, what ambition, what fear, what self-righteous project are you lugging around? It is a dead weight, and it will fail you. It cannot rescue you. It will be carried off into captivity, and you with it. The call of the gospel is to drop it. Repent of your self-reliance. Confess the foolishness of your idols. And then, turn to the God who has been carrying you from the womb. Trust in the Lord Jesus Christ, who bore your greatest burden on the cross. He has done it. He will carry you. He will bear you. And He will rescue you, from your first breath to your last, and into eternity.