I took the cup from God’s hand and made them drink it, all the nations to which he sent me: Jerusalem and the towns of Judah, along with their kings and leaders, turning them into a vast wasteland, a horror to look at, a cussword—which, in fact, they now are; Pharaoh king of Egypt with his attendants and leaders, plus all his people and the melting pot of foreigners collected there; All the kings of Uz; All the kings of the Philistines from Ashkelon, Gaza, Ekron, and what’s left of Ashdod; Edom, Moab, and the Ammonites; All the kings of Tyre, Sidon, and the coastlands across the sea; Dedan, Tema, Buz, and the nomads on the fringe of the desert; All the kings of Arabia and the various Bedouin sheiks and chieftains wandering about in the desert; All the kings of Zimri, Elam, and the Medes; All the kings from the north countries near and far, one by one; All the kingdoms on planet Earth . . . And the king of Sheshak (that is, Babylon) will be the last to drink.
They’ll Sleep and Never Wake Up
God says, “You, Babylon, are my hammer, my weapon of war. I’ll use you to smash godless nations, use you to knock kingdoms to bits. I’ll use you to smash horse and rider, use you to smash chariot and driver. I’ll use you to smash man and woman, use you to smash the old man and the boy. I’ll use you to smash the young man and young woman, use you to smash shepherd and sheep. I’ll use you to smash farmer and yoked oxen, use you to smash governors and senators.