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A Message for Rebellious Judah

Listen, O heavens! Pay attention, earth!
    This is what the Lord says:
“The children I raised and cared for
    have rebelled against me.
Even an ox knows its owner,
    and a donkey recognizes its master’s care—
but Israel doesn’t know its master.
    My people don’t recognize my care for them.”
Oh, what a sinful nation they are—
    loaded down with a burden of guilt.
They are evil people,
    corrupt children who have rejected the Lord.
They have despised the Holy One of Israel
    and turned their backs on him.

Why do you continue to invite punishment?
    Must you rebel forever?
Your head is injured,
    and your heart is sick.
You are battered from head to foot—
    covered with bruises, welts, and infected wounds—
    without any soothing ointments or bandages.
Your country lies in ruins,
    and your towns are burned.
Foreigners plunder your fields before your eyes
    and destroy everything they see.
Beautiful Jerusalem[a] stands abandoned
    like a watchman’s shelter in a vineyard,
like a lean-to in a cucumber field after the harvest,
    like a helpless city under siege.
If the Lord of Heaven’s Armies
    had not spared a few of us,[b]
we would have been wiped out like Sodom,
    destroyed like Gomorrah.

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Footnotes

  1. 1:8 Hebrew The daughter of Zion.
  2. 1:9 Greek version reads a few of our children. Compare Rom 9:29.

Rebels condemned

Hear you heavens, and listen earth,
        for the Lord has spoken:
I reared children; I raised them,
    and they turned against me!
An ox knows its owner,
    and a donkey its master’s feeding trough.
    But Israel doesn’t know;
        my people don’t behave intelligently.

Doom! Sinful nation, people weighed down with crimes,
    evildoing offspring, corrupt children!
They have abandoned the Lord,
    despised the holy one of Israel;
    they turned their backs on God.

Why do you invite further beatings?
    Why continue to rebel?
Everyone’s head throbs,
    and everyone’s heart fails.
From head to toe, none are well—
    only bruises, cuts, and raw wounds,
        not treated, not bandaged,
        not soothed with oil.

Your country is deserted,
    your cities burned with fire;
    your land—strangers are devouring it in plain sight.
    It’s a wasteland, as when foreigners raid.
Daughter Zion is left like a small shelter in a vineyard,
    like a hut in a cucumber field,
    like a city besieged.[a]
If the Lord of heavenly forces had not spared a few of us,
    we would be like Sodom; we would resemble Gomorrah.

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Footnotes

  1. Isaiah 1:8 LXX, Vulg; MT spared