The violence of God: Investigations in the book of Isaiah

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While the book of Isaiah is generally known for its predictions of a divine Messiah who would one day redeem humanity by taking its sin upon Himself (Isaiah 53:4–5), the reality is that there is also a dark side to the message of Isaiah. A harsh word of judgment and destruction courses through its pages. A terrible message couched in language that shocks and disturbs.¹

Who is this God who casts fire and brimstone against His own people and other nations as well? Is He really the Father to whom Jesus prayed or some primitive conceptual reconstruction that emerged out of the clouded minds of cave-dwelling theologians?

Let me be blunt! I believe in the intrinsic unity of the entire Bible. Not only do I maintain that there is an organic principle that gives coherence to the Old Testament, I am also convinced this principle reaches into the very core of the New Testament. The “violent” God of Isaiah and the loving Father of Jesus are one and the same. The purpose of this series of articles is to show how these seemingly contradictory images can be kept together.

Our investigation into Isaiah will first take us to chapter 1. Why? Because this chapter represents both an introduction and a sweeping summary of the entire book as well as the challenges Isaiah faces as a prophet.

Chapter 1 begins with a word that leaves no doubt as to what this book is about. This is no novel. Nor is it an editorial. It is not political commentary, nor is it a simple opinion. This is a Hazon. A prophetic vision. A Word from God.

The true prophet never appears on the scene for trivial reasons. His are no empty words. No hot wind mercilessly blistering the brains of his audience, as is so often the case when some of our own politicians start blabbering. His words are life and death. Those who ignore the word of the true prophet of the Lord do so at the risk of their own lives.

The reason for the prophet’s emergence is thrown on the table in the very opening verses of the book. Verse 2 begins with a thunderous declaration: “Hear, O heavens, and listen, O earth . . .”² Yahweh is not playing some secretive and devious game. The God of Israel summons the heavens and the earth to witness His people’s indictment.

God explains

The storm God is brewing is not without cause. Verse 2 brutally clarifies the issue: “I reared children and brought them up, but they have rebelled against me.” What we have here is what scholars refer to as a judgment speech. Its main purpose is to establish the guilt of the accused and the legitimacy of the judgment that will be brought against the guilty party.

The case against Judah is extremely serious. Words such as rebellion, ignorance, sin, guilt, evildoers and corruption punctuate verses 2–4. This legal rationale is then followed by a description of the disaster that has already struck the land. An unexpected storm has broken upon the people and now the prophet is telling them where it is coming from and why it is striking.

The explanation provided in verses 2–4 is remarkable. In the context of the ancient world, it is simply astounding. The gods of Egypt and Mesopotamia were not in the habit of explaining their actions to humans. In fact, they were as eager to explain themselves to human beings as I am concerned about dialoguing with the ants I set out to destroy in my backyard every spring. For these ancient gods, the human race was utterly inconsequential. The notion that gods should justify their actions would never have occurred to them.

And yet, here it is in bold and underlined characters! The majestic Creator, the God of the universe humbly explains Himself. He does not leave His people in the dark in regards to the lethal storm that has begun to blow over the land.

Why is Yahweh so different from the slew of gods that populated the Ancient Near East? Why does He bother at all?

God has a project

Yahweh stoops down for two reasons. The first part of the answer has something to do with the fact that this God has a project.³ The entire Old Testament is wrapped around one fundamental idea: God is in the business of creating a people comprised of individuals endowed with free will, who will choose to love and serve Him.

The genesis of that project can be traced back to the Garden of Eden. There, a man and a woman, the glorious first, untainted by sin and free from the seeds of corruption that have come to affect us so tragically. There, something went wrong. The first children of God distrusted their creator and rebelled against Him. Invited to embrace the God of the universe and His project for them, they tragically folded back on themselves. There, sin erupted. The age of misery, fear and violence was ushered in.

That’s the problem with creatures endowed with free will. They can go either way. In that early stage of history, the human species was irremediably damaged, not destroyed mind you, but infected by a rot that would increasingly become visible over time.

Why didn’t God scrap the entire project in the infancy of humankind? Imagine the grief, the pain, the misery that would never have seen the light of day. Why didn’t God nip the cancer in the bud? The solution to the dilemma of God’s violence in Isaiah is intimately linked to the resolution of this question.

Continued . . .

1. See for instance Isaiah 1:6–9,20,24–25,28–31; 2:10–22; 3:1–7; 5:1–30; 9:19–20, etc.
2. All biblical references are from the New Revised Standard Version.
3. For more on this concept, see Elmer Martens, God’s Design: A Focus on Old Testament Theology, 3rd ed. (D. & F. Scott, 1997).

Pierre Gilbert is associate professor of Old Testament studies at Canadian Mennonite University/Mennonite Brethren Biblical Seminary in Winnipeg, Man.