Commentary - Isaiah 49:14-26

Bird's-eye view

This passage is a torrent of covenant comfort. It begins with the complaint of God's people, Zion, who in their distress feel abandoned and forgotten by God. This is a common enough feeling for the saints in any generation, and it is a lie from the pit. God's response is not a mild reassurance; it is an overwhelming cascade of promises, each designed to obliterate the very possibility that He could ever forget His people. He compares His faithfulness to that of a nursing mother, only to declare His own love infinitely more reliable. He speaks of His people being engraved on His hands, of their walls being constantly before Him. This is not just about a future restoration of Jerusalem from the Babylonian exile. As with all of Isaiah's prophecies, the near fulfillment is a type, a shadow, of a much greater fulfillment in the age of the Messiah. The central theme here is God's unbreakable, sovereign, and ultimately victorious love for His covenant people, the Church. He promises not just restoration but explosive, global growth, to the point where the Church is astonished at her own fruitfulness. The passage culminates in a promise of total victory over her enemies, a victory accomplished not by the Church's might, but by Yahweh, the divine Warrior, who contends for His people.


Outline


Commentary

14 But Zion said, "Yahweh has forsaken me, And the Lord has forgotten me."

Zion here is personified as a woman, the mother of God's people. This is the Church. And she is despairing. The complaint is twofold: forsaken and forgotten. To be forsaken is to be abandoned in a time of need. To be forgotten is to be erased from memory altogether. This is the logic of unbelief when circumstances are grim. Our feelings become the measure of God's faithfulness. When we are surrounded by ruins, whether the ruins of Jerusalem in the 6th century B.C. or the cultural ruins of the 21st century A.D., the temptation is to conclude that God has checked out. But feelings are terrible theologians. The entire rest of this chapter is God's thunderous refutation of this faithless feeling.

15 "Can a woman forget her infant And have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, but I will not forget you."

God answers the lie of the previous verse with an argument from the lesser to the greater. He points to the strongest natural bond we know of, that between a nursing mother and her baby. Can she forget? Can she withhold compassion? The very question is jarring. It's unnatural, monstrous to even consider. And yet, God says, in this fallen world, "Even these may forget." A mother's love, as strong as it is, is not absolute. But God's covenant love is. His conclusion is emphatic: "but I will not forget you." His love is not a natural affection that can be thwarted by sin or circumstance. It is a sovereign, covenantal, electing love. It is more certain than the most certain thing we know on earth.

16 "Behold, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands; Your walls are continually before Me."

This is one of the most tender and powerful images in all of Scripture. God has engraved His people on the palms of His hands. This is not a temporary note written in ink. The word means to carve, to cut into. Think of a seal ring or a stonemason's work. It is permanent. And where is it? On His hands, the instruments of His power and action in the world. Wherever God is working, whatever He is doing, His people are central to His attention. He cannot act without being reminded of His commitment to you. "Your walls are continually before Me." While Zion sees only ruined walls, God sees the blueprints. He sees the finished city, the glorious Church, and He is constantly working to bring it to completion. His providence is never distracted.

17 "Your builders hurry; Your destroyers and devastators Will depart from you."

The tide is turning. The destroyers, the Babylonians, the Romans, the secular humanists, all have their day. But their day ends. God says they "will depart from you." And who is coming? The builders. And they are in a hurry. This is a picture of eager, rapid restoration. In the New Covenant, these builders are the apostles, the evangelists, the pastors and teachers, who build the Church with the living stones of converted sinners (1 Pet. 2:5). The gospel is a constructive force. It builds civilizations, families, and churches. And God's timetable for this building project is not sluggish.

18 "Lift up your eyes and look around; All of them gather together; they come to you. As I live," declares Yahweh, "You will surely put on all of them as jewels and bind them on as a bride."

Zion is commanded to stop looking down at her own rubble and to lift her eyes to the horizon. What does she see? A great multitude, a flood of people, coming to her. Who are they? These are the Gentiles, the nations of the earth, being gathered in by the gospel. God swears by His own life, the greatest oath possible, that this will happen. These converts are not a burden; they are Zion's glory. She will wear them like jewels, like a bride adorning herself for her husband. The beauty of the Church is the souls of redeemed men and women from every tribe and tongue.

19-20 "For your devastated and desolate places and your destroyed land, Surely now you will be too cramped for the inhabitants, And those who swallowed you will be far away. The children of whom you were bereaved will yet say in your ears, ‘The place is too cramped for me; Make room for me that I may live here.’"

Here is a glorious, postmillennial problem. The Church will become so successful in its mission that it will run out of room. The desolate places will be filled. The land that was once empty will be "too cramped." This is the promise of the explosive growth of the kingdom. Those who once devoured Zion will be gone, and her children, the children she thought she had lost, will be demanding more space. This is the language of victory, of expansion, of the fulfillment of the Great Commission. The knowledge of the glory of the Lord will fill the earth as the waters cover the sea (Hab. 2:14), and we will need to build more nurseries.

21 "Then you will say in your heart, ‘Who has borne these for me? Indeed, I have been bereaved of my children And am barren, an exile and a wanderer. And who has reared these? Behold, I remained alone; From where did these come?’"

Zion's reaction to this incredible growth is utter astonishment. She felt barren, abandoned, and alone. And now, suddenly, she is a mother to a multitude. "Where did all these people come from?" This is the surprise of revival. It is the shock of God's grace working far beyond our meager expectations. The Church does not produce this growth through her own strength. It is a miraculous birth, a gift from God. He is the one who brings children into His house, and our response ought to be one of grateful wonder.

22 "Thus says Lord Yahweh, ‘Behold, I will lift up My hand to the nations And make high My standard to the peoples; And they will bring your sons in their bosom, And your daughters will be lifted up on their shoulders.’"

How will this ingathering happen? God Himself will do it. He will lift His hand, an act of summoning power. He will raise His standard, His banner, which is the cross of Jesus Christ. And the nations, the Gentiles, will respond. And notice what they do. They don't just come themselves; they bring Zion's children with them. They become instruments of the Great Commission. They carry the new converts, nurturing them and helping them on their way to the people of God. This is a picture of the world serving the purposes of the Church.

23 "Kings will be your guardians, And their princesses your nurses. They will bow down to you with their faces to the earth And lick the dust of your feet; And you will know that I am Yahweh; Those who hope in Me will not be put to shame."

This is one of the key texts for a robustly Christian and optimistic eschatology. It is not talking about the Church being subjugated by the state. It is the other way around. The rulers of the earth will serve the Church. "Kings will be your guardians," or nursing fathers. "Their princesses your nurses." This means the civil magistrate has a duty to protect and foster the Church of Jesus Christ. They will bow down, not in worship of the Church, but in submission to the Church's King, Jesus Christ. To "lick the dust of your feet" is a powerful ancient metaphor for complete and willing submission. When the nations are discipled, this includes their leaders. The end result is that God's people will know His faithfulness. Those who wait for Him, who hope in His promises, will never be disappointed.

24 "Can the prey be taken from the mighty man, Or the captives of the righteous be granted escape?"

A hard-headed, rhetorical question. From a human standpoint, the answer is no. A mighty warrior does not let his prey go. Captives taken in a just war (captives of the righteous) are not simply released. The "mighty man" here is Satan, the strong man who holds sinners captive (Mark 3:27). The world, the flesh, and the devil have a firm grip. Can we break free on our own? The question is designed to make us feel the impossibility of the situation apart from God.

25 "Surely, thus says Yahweh, ‘Even the captives of the mighty man will be taken away, And the prey of the tyrant will be granted escape; For I will contend with the one who contends with you, And I will save your sons.’"

And here is God's glorious, gospel answer. Yes! The impossible is possible with Me. Yahweh Himself will enter the fray. He is the Divine Warrior, stronger than the strong man. He declares, "I will contend with the one who contends with you." This is the heart of the gospel. Christ came to plunder the strong man's house and set the captives free. God does not leave us to fight our battles alone. He fights for us. He is the one who saves our children. Our hope is not in our own strength, but in His promise to contend on our behalf.

26 "I will feed those who mistreat you with their own flesh, And they will become drunk with their own blood as with sweet wine; And all flesh will know that I, Yahweh, am your Savior And your Redeemer, the Mighty One of Jacob."

The imagery is stark, and it is meant to be. This describes the final end of those who implacably set themselves against God and His people. It is the self-destructive nature of evil. Sin devours itself. Rebellious societies cannibalize themselves. God's judgment often consists of giving people over to the consequences of their own wicked desires. But this judgment is not without purpose. The goal is doxological. The whole world, "all flesh," will see this and know that Yahweh, and He alone, is Savior and Redeemer. God's judgments, as much as His mercies, are designed to display His glory to the ends of the earth.


Application

The central application of this text is to believe God's promises, especially when our circumstances and feelings are screaming the opposite. Zion said, "Yahweh has forgotten me." This is a lie we are all tempted to believe. The antidote is not to look inward at our wavering faith, but outward to the unshakeable promises of God. He has engraved you on the palms of His hands. He cannot forget you.

Second, we must cultivate a confident and optimistic view of the future of the gospel in history. This passage does not describe a defeated, retreating Church, but rather a Church so fruitful that it is bursting at the seams. The nations and their kings will one day serve the cause of Christ. This should fuel our prayers, our evangelism, and our cultural engagement. We are on the winning side, because our God is the one who contends for us and who cannot fail.

Finally, we must rest in the fact that God is our warrior. When we see the might of the enemy, we are tempted to despair. "Can the prey be taken from the mighty man?" The gospel answers with a resounding yes. Our salvation, and the salvation of our children, rests not in our ability to fight, but in God's promise to fight for us. Trust Him. Hope in Him. You will not be put to shame.