Those Who Walk Out on God

Oh! Can you believe it? The chaste city has become a whore! She was once all justice, everyone living as good neighbors, And now they’re all at one another’s throats. Your coins are all counterfeits. Your wine is watered down. Your leaders are turncoats who keep company with crooks. They sell themselves to the highest bidder and grab anything not nailed down. They never stand up for the homeless, never stick up for the defenseless.

Looking for a Crop of Justice

I’ll sing a ballad to the one I love, a love ballad about his vineyard: The one I love had a vineyard, a fine, well-placed vineyard. He hoed the soil and pulled the weeds, and planted the very best vines. He built a lookout, built a winepress, a vineyard to be proud of. He looked for a vintage yield of grapes, but for all his pains he got garbage grapes.

You Who Call Evil Good and Good Evil

Doom to you who buy up all the houses and grab all the land for yourselves— Evicting the old owners, posting no trespassing signs, Taking over the country, leaving everyone homeless and landless. I overheard God-of-the-Angel-Armies say: “Those mighty houses will end up empty. Those extravagant estates will be deserted. A ten-acre vineyard will produce a pint of wine, a fifty-pound sack of seed, a quart of grain.”

Doom to those who get up early and start drinking booze before breakfast, Who stay up all hours of the night drinking themselves into a stupor. They make sure their banquets are well-furnished with harps and flutes and plenty of wine, But they’ll have nothing to do with the work of God, pay no mind to what he is doing. Therefore my people will end up in exile because they don’t know the score. Their “honored men” will starve to death and the common people die of thirst. Sheol developed a huge appetite, swallowing people nonstop! Big people and little people alike down that gullet, to say nothing of all the drunks. The down-and-out on a par with the high-and-mighty, Windbag boasters crumpled, flaccid as a punctured bladder. But by working justice, God-of-the-Angel-Armies will be a mountain. By working righteousness, Holy God will show what “holy” is. And lambs will graze as if they owned the place, Kids and calves right at home in the ruins.

Earth Polluted by Its Very Own People

Earth is polluted by its very own people, who have broken its laws, Disrupted its order, violated the sacred and eternal covenant. Therefore a curse, like a cancer, ravages the earth. Its people pay the price of their sacrilege. They dwindle away, dying out one by one. No more wine, no more vineyards, no more songs or singers. The laughter of castanets is gone, the shouts of celebrants, gone, the laughter of fiddles, gone. No more parties with toasts of champagne. Serious drinkers gag on their drinks. The chaotic cities are unlivable. Anarchy reigns. Every house is boarded up, condemned. People riot in the streets for wine, but the good times are gone forever— no more joy for this old world. The city is dead and deserted, bulldozed into piles of rubble. That’s the way it will be on this earth. This is the fate of all nations: An olive tree shaken clean of its olives, a grapevine picked clean of its grapes.

But here on this mountain, God-of-the-Angel-Armies will throw a feast for all the people of the world, A feast of the finest foods, a feast with vintage wines, a feast of seven courses, a feast lavish with gourmet desserts. And here on this mountain, God will banish the pall of doom hanging over all peoples, The shadow of doom darkening all nations. Yes, he’ll banish death forever. And God will wipe the tears from every face. He’ll remove every sign of disgrace From his people, wherever they are. Yes! God says so!

These also, the priest and prophet, stagger from drink, weaving, falling-down drunks, Besotted with wine and whiskey, can’t see straight, can’t talk sense. Every table is covered with vomit. They live in vomit.

Drug yourselves so you feel nothing. Blind yourselves so you see nothing. Get drunk, but not on wine. Black out, but not from whiskey. For God has rocked you into a deep, deep sleep, put the discerning prophets to sleep, put the farsighted seers to sleep.

Therefore listen, please, you with your splitting headaches, You who are nursing the hangovers that didn’t come from drinking wine. Your Master, your God, has something to say, your God has taken up his people’s case: “Look, I’ve taken back the drink that sent you reeling. No more drinking from that jug of my anger! I’ve passed it over to your abusers to drink, those who ordered you, ‘Down on the ground so we can walk all over you!’ And you had to do it. Flat on the ground, you were the dirt under their feet.”

Buy Without Money

“Hey there! All who are thirsty, come to the water! Are you penniless? Come anyway—buy and eat! Come, buy your drinks, buy wine and milk. Buy without money—everything’s free! Why do you spend your money on junk food, your hard-earned cash on cotton candy? Listen to me, listen well: Eat only the best, fill yourself with only the finest. Pay attention, come close now, listen carefully to my life-giving, life-nourishing words. I’m making a lasting covenant commitment with you, the same that I made with David: sure, solid, enduring love. I set him up as a witness to the nations, made him a prince and leader of the nations, And now I’m doing it to you: You’ll summon nations you’ve never heard of, and nations who’ve never heard of you will come running to you Because of me, your God, because The Holy of Israel has honored you.”

God has taken a solemn oath, an oath he means to keep: “Never again will I open your grain-filled barns to your enemies to loot and eat. Never again will foreigners drink the wine that you worked so hard to produce. No. The farmers who grow the food will eat the food and praise God for it. And those who make the wine will drink the wine in my holy courtyards.”

“I’ve been treading the winepress alone. No one was there to help me. Angrily, I stomped the grapes; raging, I trampled the people. Their blood spurted all over me— all my clothes were soaked with blood. I was set on vengeance. The time for redemption had arrived. I looked around for someone to help —no one. I couldn’t believe it —not one volunteer. So I went ahead and did it myself, fed and fueled by my rage. I trampled the people in my anger, crushed them under foot in my wrath, soaked the earth with their lifeblood.”