The Cup and the Exchange Text: Isaiah 51:17-23
Introduction: The Intoxication of Judgment and Grace
We live in a therapeutic age, which is another way of saying we live in a sentimental and dishonest age. When modern man thinks of judgment, he imagines a petty and vindictive deity, a celestial tyrant having a bad day. When he thinks of comfort, he imagines a soft and fluffy affirmation, a divine pat on the head that assures him he was fine all along. Both conceptions are profoundly pagan, and both are demolished by the prophet Isaiah.
The God of Scripture is not a celestial guidance counselor, nor is He an unhinged despot. He is the Holy One of Israel, and His actions in history are never arbitrary. His wrath is not a temper tantrum; it is the settled, righteous, and terrifying opposition of a holy God to all that is unholy. And His comfort is not a cheap sentiment; it is a blood-bought, covenantal restoration that costs Him everything. This passage in Isaiah 51 is a stark portrait of both realities. It presents us with Jerusalem, God's covenant people, utterly drunk and staggering, not from wine, but from the undiluted cup of God's own fury. They have been made to drink the consequences of their own sin, and the result is complete incapacitation and desolation.
Our secular culture cannot make sense of this. For them, suffering is always meaningless, a cosmic accident to be managed or medicated. If there is a god, he is either impotent to stop it or a monster for allowing it. The pietist, on the other hand, often wants to spiritualize this away. He wants a God who deals only in the internal realm of the heart, who would never stoop to something so messy as geopolitical judgment, famine, and the sword. But the Bible will have none of it. God is Lord over history, over armies, over economics, and over the consequences of our rebellion. He is not embarrassed to discipline His people in the public square.
But the central point of this passage is not the judgment itself, but rather the jaw-dropping reversal that God proclaims. The cup of wrath, drained to the dregs by Jerusalem, is not refilled and handed back. It is taken away. And not only is it taken away, it is then handed to her tormentors. This is the great exchange. This is the logic of the covenant. And this is a staggering foreshadowing of the gospel of Jesus Christ, who on the cross drank the cup that we deserved so that the cup of blessing might be handed to us. This passage teaches us the grammar of sin, judgment, and salvation. It is a hard grammar, but it is a grammar of grace.
The Text
Awaken yourself! Awaken yourself! Arise, O Jerusalem, You who have drunk from the hand of Yahweh the cup of His wrath; The chalice of reeling you have drained to the dregs.
There is none to guide her among all the sons she has borne, Nor is there one to take hold of her by the hand among all the sons she has reared.
These two things have befallen you; Who will console you? The devastation and destruction, famine and sword; How shall I comfort you?
Your sons have fainted; They lie helpless at the head of every street, Like an antelope in a net, Full of the wrath of Yahweh, The rebuke of your God.
Therefore, now, listen to this, you afflicted, Who are drunk, but not with wine:
Thus says your Lord, Yahweh, even your God Who contends for His people, “Behold, I have taken out of your hand the cup of reeling, The chalice of My wrath; You will never drink it again.
I will set it into the hand of those who cause you grief, Who have said to you, ‘Lie down that we may walk over you.’ You have even set your back down like the ground And like the street for those who walk over it.”
(Isaiah 51:17-23 LSB)
Drunk on Wrath (vv. 17-20)
The prophet begins with a series of urgent commands to a city that is in no condition to respond. This is the irony of grace.
"Awaken yourself! Awaken yourself! Arise, O Jerusalem, You who have drunk from the hand of Yahweh the cup of His wrath; The chalice of reeling you have drained to the dregs." (Isaiah 51:17)
Jerusalem is pictured as a woman in a drunken stupor, passed out in the street. The command to "Awaken" and "Arise" is not a suggestion that she can simply shake it off. It is a divine summons, the kind of command that creates the ability to obey, like when Jesus told the dead man, "Lazarus, come forth." She is being called out of a state she cannot escape on her own. And what is the cause of her condition? She has been forced to drink a cup from the very hand of Yahweh. This is not an accident. This is covenantal discipline.
The image of the "cup of wrath" is a potent one throughout Scripture. It represents the full measure of God's judicial fury against sin. And Jerusalem has not just sipped it; she has drained it to the dregs. She has experienced the full measure of the curse she invoked upon herself by her covenant unfaithfulness. The "chalice of reeling" means it has left her staggering, disoriented, and utterly helpless. This is what sin does when God allows its consequences to run their course. It incapacitates. It destroys.
The result of this intoxication is total abandonment and helplessness, as we see in the following verses.
"There is none to guide her among all the sons she has borne... These two things have befallen you; Who will console you? The devastation and destruction, famine and sword... Your sons have fainted; They lie helpless at the head of every street, Like an antelope in a net, Full of the wrath of Yahweh, The rebuke of your God." (Isaiah 51:18-20)
Her own children, the leaders and strong men who should have guided and protected her, are as helpless as she is. They are scattered and faint, lying in the streets like trapped animals. The prophet lists the instruments of God's wrath, the "two things": devastation and destruction, famine and sword. This is not abstract theological language. This is the concrete reality of what happened when Babylon sacked Jerusalem. The judgment of God is not merely a spiritual feeling; it is a historical event with real-world consequences. God's rebukes have teeth.
Notice the source of their condition is stated again, lest we miss it. They are "Full of the wrath of Yahweh, The rebuke of your God." This is not the work of Babylon, ultimately. Babylon was merely the cupbearer, the rod in God's hand. The affliction came from "your God." This is the hard truth that both the secularist and the pietist want to avoid. The secularist wants to blame geopolitics. The pietist wants to blame the devil. But God says, "I did this. This is my righteous judgment against your sin." Until we acknowledge God's sovereign hand in our afflictions, we cannot receive His sovereign grace in our restoration.
The Sovereign Reversal (vv. 21-22)
Just when the situation seems utterly hopeless, God Himself intervenes with a stunning word of reversal. The "therefore" in verse 21 is a hinge upon which history turns.
"Therefore, now, listen to this, you afflicted, Who are drunk, but not with wine: Thus says your Lord, Yahweh, even your God Who contends for His people, 'Behold, I have taken out of your hand the cup of reeling, The chalice of My wrath; You will never drink it again.'" (Isaiah 51:21-22)
God addresses His people by their condition: "you afflicted... drunk, but not with wine." He acknowledges their state, but He does not leave them there. He speaks as "your Lord, Yahweh," their covenant keeper, and as "your God Who contends for His people." This is a legal term. He is their divine defense attorney, their champion. Even in the midst of discipline, He has not disowned them. His chastisement was for the purpose of purification, not annihilation.
And what is His verdict? "Behold, I have taken out of your hand the cup." This is a unilateral act of sovereign grace. He does not ask them to sober up first. He does not demand they make amends. While they are still lying in the street, helpless and afflicted, He simply removes the source of their misery. He takes the cup. And He makes a promise of pure grace: "You will never drink it again." The punishment is complete. The discipline has served its purpose. The debt has been paid in full through the suffering of the exile.
The Great Exchange (v. 23)
But God's action does not stop with simple removal. He is a God of justice, and His justice must be satisfied. This leads to the final, staggering verse.
"I will set it into the hand of those who cause you grief, Who have said to you, ‘Lie down that we may walk over you.’ You have even set your back down like the ground And like the street for those who walk over it." (Isaiah 51:23)
The cup is not thrown away. It is passed on. The very instrument of Jerusalem's judgment now becomes the instrument of judgment for her oppressors. Babylon, who acted as God's rod, did so with arrogance and cruelty. They were not humble instruments of divine justice; they were proud tyrants who reveled in humiliating God's people, telling them to lie down like a street to be walked on. They exceeded their commission.
And so, God, having used them for His purpose, now calls them to account for their own sin. The cup of wrath is handed to them. This is the principle of covenantal justice. God judges His own house first (1 Peter 4:17), but His judgment does not end there. It rolls outward to all who have set themselves against Him and His people. This historical event, the fall of Babylon, is a pattern of how God operates throughout history. He is a God who vindicates His afflicted people and brings low the proud.
The Gospel in the Cup
This entire drama of the cup of wrath is a magnificent portrait of the gospel, painted in the Old Testament in bold, primary colors. We, like Jerusalem, have sinned. We have been unfaithful to our covenant Lord. And because of our sin, we deserve to drink the cup of God's wrath. We deserve to be spiritually incapacitated, helpless, and desolate, full of the wrath of Yahweh.
And this is precisely where the story would end for all of us, were it not for the great exchange that took place at Calvary. In the Garden of Gethsemane, our Lord Jesus Christ, the true Israel, looked at that same cup. He prayed, "Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done" (Luke 22:42). That was the cup of reeling, the chalice of God's wrath against our sin. It was the full, undiluted fury of a holy God against every lie, every lust, every act of rebellion we have ever committed.
And on the cross, Jesus did what Jerusalem did, but He did it as an innocent substitute. He took the cup from the Father's hand, and He drank it. He drained it to the dregs. He cried out, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" as He experienced the full desolation of that divine rebuke. He drank it all, so that the promise made to Jerusalem could be made to us: "You will never drink it again."
Because He drank the cup of wrath, He is now able to extend to us the cup of blessing. At the Lord's Table, He hands us a different cup entirely. "This cup," He says, "is the new covenant in my blood" (1 Corinthians 11:25). It is the cup of forgiveness, the cup of fellowship, the cup of life. He took our judgment so that we might receive His righteousness. He drank the poison so that we might drink the wine of the kingdom.
This is not sentimentalism. This is substitution. This is the heart of the Christian faith. God does not wave away our sin; He judges it fully in the person of His Son. And because He has done so, He can now awaken us from our stupor. He can command us to arise, and give us the power to do so. He takes us from being helpless antelopes in a net and makes us sons and daughters of the King. He takes the cup of wrath out of our hand forever and invites us to His table of grace. Therefore, listen to this, you who were once afflicted: Your God has contended for you. The cup is empty. Arise.