Isaiah 57
New Catholic Bible
Chapter 57
1 Those who are righteous perish,
but no one takes it to heart.
Those who are devout are taken away,
and no one understands
that the righteous are taken away
to be spared from evil.
2 Those who have walked uprightly
enter into peace;
they find rest as they lie in death.
The Unrighteous
3 But as for you, come here,
you children of a sorceress,
you offspring of an adulterer and a harlot!
4 Whom are you mocking?
At whom do you open your mouths
and stick out your tongues?
Are you not a rebellious brood,
the offspring of liars?
5 You burn with lust among the oaks
and under every spreading tree,
sacrificing your children in the ravines
and under the clefts in the rocks.[a]
6 The smooth stones of the ravines will be your portion;
these are your lot.
To them you poured out libations
and brought forth your cereal offerings.
Should such acts appease me?
7 Upon a high and lofty mountain
you have placed your bed,
and there you went up to offer sacrifice.
8 Behind the door and the doorpost
you have displayed your pagan symbols.
Forsaking me, you have uncovered your bed;
you climbed into it and opened it wide.
You struck a profitable bargain
with those whose beds you love,
and you gazed endlessly at their nakedness.
9 You approached the king with oil,
having lavished your body with perfumes.
You sent forth your procurers far and wide,
even to the depths of Sheol.[b]
10 Although exhausted by your endless travels,
you never said, “It is useless.”
You realized that your desire had been rekindled,
and so you never gave up.
11 Whom did you so greatly dread and fear
that you betrayed me
and no longer remembered me
or gave me any thought?
Is it because I was silent for so long a time
that you do not fear me?
12 Now I will expose your conduct
that you regard as so righteous.
13 When you cry out for help,
your collection of idols will not save you.
The wind will carry off all of them;
a gentle breeze will bear them away.
But whoever makes me his refuge
will possess the land
and inherit my holy mountain.
Compassion for the Afflicted
14 Then the Lord will say:
Build up, build up! Prepare the way!
Remove every obstruction from my people’s path.
15 For thus says the One who is high and exalted,
who lives eternally
and whose name is holy:
I dwell in a high and holy place
but I am with the contrite and the humble,
to revive the spirit of the humble
and to revive the heart of the contrite.
16 I will not accuse forever,
nor will I always be angry.
For then the spirits of the souls that I have made
would grow faint because of me.
17 Because of their wicked avarice I was angry,
and I struck them, keeping myself hidden,
but they continued on their rebellious path.
18 I saw how they behaved, but I will heal them;
I will lead them and fill them with consolation,
both them and those who mourn for them.
19 Peace, peace to all, both far and near,
and I will heal them, says the Lord.
20 But the wicked are like the restless sea that cannot be still;
its waters cast up mud and dirt.
21 There is no peace for the wicked,
says my God.
Footnotes
- Isaiah 57:5 The reference is to fertility cults.
- Isaiah 57:9 If there is a play on the Hebrew word melek, Molech is perhaps the king (see 2 Ki 23:10); the second part of the verse alludes to the worship of underworld divinities or of the dead.
Isaiah 57
The Message
Never Tired of Trying New Religions
57 1-2 Meanwhile, right-living people die
and no one gives them a thought.
God-fearing people are carted off
and no one even notices.
The right-living people are out of their misery,
they’re finally at rest.
They lived well and with dignity
and now they’re finally at peace.
* * *
3-10 “But you, children of a witch, come here!
Sons of a slut, daughters of a whore.
What business do you have taunting,
sneering, and sticking out your tongue?
Do you have any idea what wretches you’ve turned out to be?
A race of rebels, a generation of liars.
You satisfy your lust any place you find some shade
and fornicate at whim.
You kill your children at any convenient spot—
any cave or crevasse will do.
You take stones from the creek
and set up your sex-and-religion shrines.
You’ve chosen your fate.
Your worship will be your doom.
You’ve climbed a high mountain
to practice your foul sex-and-death religion.
Behind closed doors
you assemble your precious gods and goddesses.
Deserting me, you’ve gone all out, stripped down
and made your bed your place of worship.
You’ve climbed into bed with the ‘sacred’ whores
and loved every minute of it,
adoring every curve of their naked bodies.
You anoint your king-god with ointments
and lavish perfumes on yourselves.
You send scouts to search out the latest in religion,
send them all the way to hell and back.
You wear yourselves out trying the new and the different,
and never see what a waste it all is.
You’ve always found strength for the latest fad,
never got tired of trying new religions.
11-13 “Who talked you into the pursuit of this nonsense,
leaving me high and dry,
forgetting you ever knew me?
Because I don’t yell and make a scene,
do you think I don’t exist?
I’ll go over, detail by detail, all your ‘righteous’ attempts at religion,
and expose the absurdity of it all.
Go ahead, cry for help to your collection of no-gods:
A good wind will blow them away.
They’re smoke, nothing but smoke.
“But anyone who runs to me for help
will inherit the land,
will end up owning my holy mountain!”
* * *
14 Someone says: “Build, build! Make a road!
Clear the way, remove the rocks
from the road my people will travel.”
15-21 A Message from the high and towering God,
who lives in Eternity,
whose name is Holy:
“I live in the high and holy places,
but also with the low-spirited, the spirit-crushed,
And what I do is put new spirit in them,
get them up and on their feet again.
For I’m not going to haul people into court endlessly,
I’m not going to be angry forever.
Otherwise, people would lose heart.
These souls I created would tire out and give up.
I was angry, good and angry, because of Israel’s sins.
I struck him hard and turned away in anger,
while he kept at his stubborn, willful ways.
When I looked again and saw what he was doing,
I decided to heal him, lead him, and comfort him,
creating a new language of praise for the mourners.
Peace to the far-off, peace to the near-at-hand,” says God—
“and yes, I will heal them.
But the wicked are storm-battered seas
that can’t quiet down.
The waves stir up garbage and mud.
There’s no peace,” God says, “for the wicked.”
Copyright © 1993, 2002, 2018 by Eugene H. Peterson