Forgetting God, Fearing Grass Text: Isaiah 51:12-16
Introduction: A Culture of Continual Dread
We live in an age of managed anxiety. The world wants you to be afraid, and it has a whole host of boogeymen lined up to do the job. You are supposed to be afraid of the climate, of the next virus, of the economy, of the opposing political party, of saying the wrong thing and getting cancelled. The news cycle is a finely tuned instrument for inducing a state of what our text calls "continual dread." It is a business model. Fear sells, and it also controls. A fearful populace is a pliable populace, easily herded by the latest manufactured crisis.
And Christians, who ought to be the most fearless people on the planet, have all too often bought into this program. We wring our hands, we check the headlines with a sense of impending doom, we speak in hushed and worried tones about the direction the country is headed. We have allowed the world to set the terms of our emotional state. We have, in short, forgotten our God.
The prophet Isaiah speaks into this very condition. The people of God are in exile, or facing the threat of it. They are surrounded by a superpower that seems to hold the power of life and death. They are intimidated, discouraged, and tempted to think that the wrath of the oppressor is the most important reality in the world. And into this festival of fear, God speaks. And what He says is not a gentle pat on the head. It is a bucket of glorious, ice-cold reality. It is a theological slap designed to wake us up from our cowardly stupor. The message is simple: your fear is absurd. It is irrational. It is, at bottom, a profound act of forgetting.
The Text
"I, even I, am He who comforts you. Who are you that you are afraid of man who dies And of the son of man who is made like grass, That you have forgotten Yahweh your Maker, Who stretched out the heavens And laid the foundations of the earth, That you tremble in dread continually all day long because of the wrath of the one who brings distress, As he makes ready to bring ruin? But where is the wrath of the one who brings distress? The one in chains will soon be set free and will not die in the pit, nor will his bread be lacking. For I am Yahweh your God, who stirs up the sea, and its waves roar, Yahweh of hosts is His name. I have put My words in your mouth and have covered you with the shadow of My hand, to establish the heavens, to found the earth, and to say to Zion, ‘You are My people.’"
(Isaiah 51:12-16 LSB)
The Divine Confrontation (v. 12-13a)
God begins by reminding us of His identity, and then immediately questions ours.
"I, even I, am He who comforts you. Who are you that you are afraid of man who dies And of the son of man who is made like grass, That you have forgotten Yahweh your Maker..." (Isaiah 51:12-13a)
Notice the emphatic repetition: "I, even I." This is the ultimate source code of all comfort. Comfort is not a warm feeling or a positive thought. True, objective, rock-solid comfort is a person, and that person is God Himself. He is not just one who offers comfort; He is the comfort. All other comforts are derivative and will eventually fail.
And having established who He is, He turns the tables on us with a devastating question: "Who are you?" He is not asking for our names. He is asking why our identity has become so shrunken, so pathetic, that we would be afraid of a man. And not just any man, but "man who dies," a "son of man who is made like grass." This is a direct echo of Isaiah 40. Your oppressor, the scary politician, the tyrannical bureaucrat, the screaming online mob, what are they? They are grass. They spring up, they look imposing for a season, and then the mower of divine providence comes and they are gone. To fear grass is a category error of the highest order. It is like an elephant being terrified of a gnat.
And God immediately diagnoses the cause of this absurd condition: "That you have forgotten Yahweh your Maker." Fear is not primarily a psychological problem; it is a theological one. It is a symptom of spiritual amnesia. When you forget the immensity of your Maker, the transience of your fellow creatures necessarily becomes magnified. You have taken your eyes off the sun and are now squinting at a firefly, thinking it is the greatest light in the universe.
The Credentials of the Creator (v. 13b)
God does not leave us to guess at what we have forgotten. He provides His resume.
"Who stretched out the heavens And laid the foundations of the earth, That you tremble in dread continually all day long because of the wrath of the one who brings distress, As he makes ready to bring ruin? But where is the wrath of the one who brings distress?" (Isaiah 51:13b)
The one you have forgotten is the cosmic architect. He is the one who "stretched out the heavens" like a man pitching a tent. He is the one who engineered the planet and set it in its place. The sheer, raw power required for these acts is beyond our comprehension. And this is the God who is on your side. This is the God whose attention is focused on you, His child. To tremble "continually all day long" before some tin-pot dictator while being in a covenant relationship with the Creator of galaxies is, to put it mildly, insane.
And so God issues a divine taunt. He looks at the oppressor, who is puffing himself up, making his threats, getting "ready to bring ruin," and He asks, with a kind of holy scorn, "But where is the wrath of the one who brings distress?" From the vantage point of the throne of the universe, this fearsome, oppressive power is a joke. It is a phantom. It is a loud noise with no substance. God is not dismissing the reality of pain or suffering, but He is dismissing the ultimate power of the one who inflicts it. The oppressor's wrath has an expiration date. God's sovereignty does not.
The Promise and the Power (v. 14-15)
God moves from theological reality to concrete promise.
"The one in chains will soon be set free and will not die in the pit, nor will his bread be lacking. For I am Yahweh your God, who stirs up the sea, and its waves roar, Yahweh of hosts is His name." (Isaiah 51:14-15)
For the exiles in Babylon, this was a literal promise of return. For the Christian, it is a promise that applies to every form of bondage. The deliverance is certain. It is not a matter of "if," but "when." And the deliverance will be complete. You will not be left to die in the pit of despair, and your basic needs will be met. God's salvation is holistic.
And what is the guarantee? What is the power behind this promise? "For I am Yahweh your God, who stirs up the sea, and its waves roar." God points to His command over the most chaotic and untamable force in the created order. The sea in the ancient world was a symbol of chaos and death. God says, "I poke that, and it roars. I command it." The one who can casually stir up the ocean is the one who promises to set you free. And then He signs His name to the promise: "Yahweh of hosts is His name." This is the Lord of the armies of Heaven. He is the commander-in-chief of legions of angels. This is the one underwriting your security.
The Grand Covenant Purpose (v. 16)
Finally, God reveals why He saves and protects His people. It is not just for our own comfort; it is for a cosmic, creative purpose.
"I have put My words in your mouth and have covered you with the shadow of My hand, to establish the heavens, to found the earth, and to say to Zion, ‘You are My people.’" (Isaiah 51:16)
This is breathtaking. God does two things for His people. First, He gives us a job: "I have put My words in your mouth." We are not meant to be a silent, frightened people. We are commissioned to speak His truth into a hostile world. We are prophets, all of us.
Second, He gives us protection for the job: "and have covered you with the shadow of My hand." This is an image of the most intimate and absolute security. As we go about our dangerous, God-given task of speaking His Word, we are personally shielded by God Almighty. His own hand is our canopy.
And what is the ultimate goal of this Word-speaking, divinely-protected people? It is nothing less than a new creation. The language here, "to establish the heavens, to found the earth," deliberately echoes Genesis 1. God is telling us that through the proclamation of His Word by His people, He is engaged in the work of remaking the world. Our small acts of faithful testimony are part of a project to restore the entire cosmos. And it all culminates in that final, glorious, covenant declaration: "to say to Zion, ‘You are My people.’" This is the goal of all history: for God to have a redeemed people, a bride for His Son, in a renewed creation, forever. That is what is at stake when you choose to speak or to be silent, to act in faith or to cower in fear.
Conclusion: Remember and Speak
The diagnosis for our fear is amnesia, and the prescription is remembrance. We must deliberately, actively, and continually remember Yahweh our Maker. We must rehearse His credentials. We must measure every threat, every headline, every fear against the God who stretched out the heavens and who stirs up the sea.
When we do this, the fearsome men of grass are cut down to their proper size. Their wrath is revealed to be a temporary tantrum in the face of eternal sovereignty. And this remembrance is not for the purpose of quiet contemplation. It is fuel for our mission.
God has put His words in your mouth. He has not called you to a life of safe silence. He has called you to speak. Speak the gospel. Speak the truth about sin and righteousness. Speak the truth about men and women, about justice, about the lordship of Jesus Christ over every square inch of His creation. And as you speak, know that you are covered. You are hidden in the shadow of His hand.
This entire promise finds its ultimate yes and amen in the Lord Jesus Christ. He is the Son of Man who was not just made like grass, but was cut down and thrown into the pit of death for us. But He was not left there. He was set free, and now, as the Lord of Hosts, He is the one who puts His words in our mouths and covers us with His hand. Because of Him, we are no longer defined by our fear, but by that final, glorious declaration: "You are My people."