Does an ax take over from the one who swings it? Does a saw act more important than the sawyer? As if a shovel did its shoveling by using a ditch digger! As if a hammer used the carpenter to pound nails! Therefore the Master, God-of-the-Angel-Armies, will send a debilitating disease on his robust Assyrian fighters. Under the canopy of God’s bright glory a fierce fire will break out. Israel’s Light will burst into a conflagration. The Holy will explode into a firestorm, And in one day burn to cinders every last Assyrian thornbush. God will destroy the splendid trees and lush gardens. The Assyrian body and soul will waste away to nothing like a disease-ridden invalid. A child could count what’s left of the trees on the fingers of his two hands. * * *

And on that Day also, what’s left of Israel, the straggling survivors of Jacob, will no longer be fascinated by abusive, battering Assyria. They’ll lean on God, The Holy—yes, truly. The ragtag remnant—what’s left of Jacob—will come back to the Strong God. Your people Israel were once like the sand on the seashore, but only a scattered few will return. Destruction is ordered, brimming over with righteousness. For the Master, God-of-the-Angel-Armies, will finish here what he started all over the globe.

Therefore the Master, God-of-the-Angel-Armies, says: “My dear, dear people who live in Zion, don’t be terrorized by the Assyrians when they beat you with clubs and threaten you with rods like the Egyptians once did. In just a short time my anger against you will be spent and I’ll turn my destroying anger on them. I, God-of-the-Angel-Armies, will go after them with a cat-o’-nine-tails and finish them off decisively—as Gideon downed Midian at the rock Oreb, as Moses turned the tables on Egypt. On that day, Assyria will be pulled off your back, and the yoke of slavery lifted from your neck.” * * * Assyria’s on the move: up from Rimmon, on to Aiath, through Migron, with a bivouac at Micmash. They’ve crossed the pass, set camp at Geba for the night. Ramah trembles with fright. Gibeah of Saul has run off. Cry for help, daughter of Gallim! Listen to her, Laishah! Do something, Anathoth! Madmenah takes to the hills. The people of Gebim flee in panic. The enemy’s soon at Nob—nearly there! In sight of the city he shakes his fist At the mount of dear daughter Zion, the hill of Jerusalem.

But now watch this: The Master, God-of-the-Angel-Armies, swings his ax and lops the branches, Chops down the giant trees, lays flat the towering forest-on-the-march. His ax will make toothpicks of that forest, that Lebanon-like army reduced to kindling.

Thunder rolls off the mountains like a mob huge and noisy— Thunder of kingdoms in an uproar, nations assembling for war. God-of-the-Angel-Armies is calling his army into battle formation. They come from far-off countries, they pour in across the horizon. It’s God on the move with the weapons of his wrath, ready to destroy the whole country.

“Watch now. God’s Judgment Day comes. Cruel it is, a day of wrath and anger, A day to waste the earth and clean out all the sinners. The stars in the sky, the great parade of constellations, will be nothing but black holes. The sun will come up as a black disk, and the moon a blank nothing. I’ll put a full stop to the evil on earth, terminate the dark acts of the wicked. I’ll gag all braggarts and boasters—not a peep anymore from them— and trip strutting tyrants, leave them flat on their faces. Proud humanity will disappear from the earth. I’ll make mortals rarer than hens’ teeth. And yes, I’ll even make the sky shake, and the earth quake to its roots Under the wrath of God-of-the-Angel-Armies, the Judgment Day of his raging anger. Like a hunted white-tailed deer, like lost sheep with no shepherd, People will huddle with a few of their own kind, run off to some makeshift shelter. But tough luck to stragglers—they’ll be killed on the spot, throats cut, bellies ripped open, Babies smashed on the rocks while mothers and fathers watch, Houses looted, wives raped.

“I will confront them”—Decree of God-of-the-Angel-Armies—“and strip Babylon of name and survivors, children and grandchildren.” God’s Decree. “I’ll make it a worthless swamp and give it as a prize to the hedgehog. And then I’ll bulldoze it out of existence.” Decree of God-of-the-Angel-Armies.

Who Could Ever Cancel Such Plans?

God-of-the-Angel-Armies speaks: “Exactly as I planned, it will happen. Following my blueprints, it will take shape. I will shatter the Assyrian who trespasses my land and stomp him into the dirt on my mountains. I will ban his taking and making of slaves and lift the weight of oppression from all shoulders.” This is the plan, planned for the whole earth, And this is the hand that will do it, reaching into every nation. God-of-the-Angel-Armies has planned it. Who could ever cancel such plans? His is the hand that’s reached out. Who could brush it aside?

Damascus: A Pile of Dust and Rubble

A Message concerning Damascus: “Watch this: Damascus undone as a city, a pile of dust and rubble! Her towns emptied of people. The sheep and goats will move in And take over the towns as if they owned them—which they will! Not a sign of a fort is left in Ephraim, not a trace of government left in Damascus. What’s left of Aram? The same as what’s left of Israel—not much.” Decree of God-of-the-Angel-Armies.

Then tribute will be brought to God-of-the-Angel-Armies, brought from this people tall and handsome, This people once held in respect everywhere, this people once mighty and merciless, From the land crisscrossed with rivers, to Mount Zion, God’s place.

God says, “I’ll make Egyptian fight Egyptian, brother fight brother, neighbor fight neighbor, City fight city, kingdom fight kingdom— anarchy and chaos and killing! I’ll knock the wind out of the Egyptians. They won’t know coming from going. They’ll go to their god-idols for answers; they’ll conjure ghosts and hold séances, desperate for answers. But I’ll turn the Egyptians over to a tyrant most cruel. I’ll put them under the rule of a mean, merciless king.” Decree of the Master, God-of-the-Angel-Armies.

The princes of Zoan are fools, the advisors of Pharaoh stupid. How could any of you dare tell Pharaoh, “Trust me: I’m wise. I know what’s going on. Why, I’m descended from the old wisdom of Egypt”? There’s not a wise man or woman left in the country. If there were, one of them would tell you what God-of-the-Angel-Armies has in mind for Egypt. As it is, the princes of Zoan are all fools and the princes of Memphis, idiots. The honored pillars of your society have led Egypt into detours and dead ends. God has scrambled their brains, Egypt’s become a falling-down-in-his-own-vomit drunk. Egypt’s hopeless, past helping, a senile, doddering old fool. * * *

On that Day, Egyptians will be like hysterical schoolgirls, screaming at the first hint of action from God-of-the-Angel-Armies. Little Judah will strike terror in Egyptians! Say “Judah” to an Egyptian and see panic. The word triggers fear of the God-of-the-Angel-Armies’ plan against Egypt.

On that Day, more than one city in Egypt will learn to speak the language of faith and promise to follow God-of-the-Angel-Armies. One of these cities will be honored with the title “City of the Sun.”

On that Day, there will be a place of worship to God in the center of Egypt and a monument to God at its border. It will show how the God-of-the-Angel-Armies has helped the Egyptians. When they cry out in prayer to God because of oppressors, he’ll send them help, a savior who will keep them safe and take care of them. God will openly show himself to the Egyptians and they’ll get to know him on that Day. They’ll worship him seriously with sacrifices and burnt offerings. They’ll make vows and keep them. God will wound Egypt, first hit and then heal. Egypt will come back to God, and God will listen to their prayers and heal them, heal them from head to toe.

On that Day, Israel will take its place alongside Egypt and Assyria, sharing the blessing from the center. God-of-the-Angel-Armies, who blessed Israel, will generously bless them all: “Blessed be Egypt, my people! . . . Blessed be Assyria, work of my hands! . . . Blessed be Israel, my heritage!”

Dear Israel, you’ve been through a lot, you’ve been put through the mill. The good news I get from God-of-the-Angel-Armies, the God of Israel, I now pass on to you. * * *

You Looked, but You Never Looked to Him

In the midst of the shouting, I said, “Let me alone. Let me grieve by myself. Don’t tell me it’s going to be all right. These people are doomed. It’s not all right.” For the Master, God-of-the-Angel-Armies, is bringing a day noisy with mobs of people, Jostling and stampeding in the Valley of Vision, knocking down walls and hollering to the mountains, “Attack! Attack!” Old enemies Elam and Kir arrive armed to the teeth— weapons and chariots and cavalry. Your fine valleys are noisy with war, chariots and cavalry charging this way and that. God has left Judah exposed and defenseless. You assessed your defenses that Day, inspected your arsenal of weapons in the Forest Armory. You found the weak places in the city walls that needed repair. You secured the water supply at the Lower Pool. You took an inventory of the houses in Jerusalem and tore down some to get bricks to fortify the city wall. You built a large cistern to ensure plenty of water. You looked and looked and looked, but you never looked to him who gave you this city, never once consulted the One who has long had plans for this city.

The Master, God-of-the-Angel-Armies, called out on that Day, Called for a day of repentant tears, called you to dress in somber clothes of mourning. But what do you do? You throw a party! Eating and drinking and dancing in the streets! You barbecue bulls and sheep, and throw a huge feast— slabs of meat, kegs of beer. “Seize the day! Eat and drink! Tomorrow we die!”

God-of-the-Angel-Armies whispered to me his verdict on this frivolity: “You’ll pay for this outrage until the day you die.” The Master, God-of-the-Angel-Armies, says so.

The Key of the Davidic Heritage

The Master, God-of-the-Angel-Armies, spoke: “Come. Go to this steward, Shebna, who is in charge of all the king’s affairs, and tell him: What’s going on here? You’re an outsider here and yet you act like you own the place, make a big, fancy tomb for yourself where everyone can see it, making sure everyone will think you’re important. God is about to sack you, to throw you to the dogs. He’ll grab you by the hair, swing you round and round dizzyingly, and then let you go, sailing through the air like a ball, until you’re out of sight. Where you’ll land, nobody knows. And there you’ll die, and all the stuff you’ve collected heaped on your grave. You’ve disgraced your master’s house! You’re fired—and good riddance!

“And then the Day will come,” says God-of-the-Angel-Armies, “when that nail will come loose and fall out, break loose from that solid wall—and everything hanging on it will go with it.” That’s what will happen. God says so.

Nothing Left Here to Be Proud Of

Visit Tarshish, you who live on the seacoast. Take a good, long look and wail—yes, cry buckets of tears! Is this the city you remember as energetic and alive, bustling with activity, this historic old city, Expanding throughout the globe, buying and selling all over the world? And who is behind the collapse of Tyre, the Tyre that controlled the world markets? Tyre’s merchants were the business tycoons. Tyre’s traders called all the shots. God-of-the-Angel-Armies ordered the crash to show the sordid backside of pride and puncture the inflated reputations. Sail for home, O ships of Tarshish. There are no docks left in this harbor. God reached out to the sea and sea traders, threw the sea kingdoms into turmoil. God ordered the destruction of the seacoast cities, the centers of commerce. God said, “There’s nothing left here to be proud of, bankrupt and bereft Sidon. Do you want to make a new start in Cyprus? Don’t count on it. Nothing there will work out for you either.”

That’s when God will call on the carpet rebel powers in the skies and Rebel kings on earth. They’ll be rounded up like prisoners in a jail, Corralled and locked up in a jail, and then sentenced and put to hard labor. Shamefaced moon will cower, humiliated, red-faced sun will skulk, disgraced, Because God-of-the-Angel-Armies will take over, ruling from Mount Zion and Jerusalem, Splendid and glorious before all his leaders.

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!