Isaiah

¹ and committed to seeking God. Ponder the rock from which you were cut, the quarry from which you were dug.

² and Sarah, who bore you. Think of it! One solitary man when I called him, but once I blessed him, he multiplied.

³ comfort all her mounds of ruins. I'll transform her dead ground into Eden, her moonscape into the garden of God, A place filled with exuberance and laughter, thankful voices and melodic songs.

⁴ Listen to me, nations. Revelation flows from me. My decisions light up the world.

⁵ my salvation right on time. I'll bring justice to the peoples. Even faraway islands will look to me and take hope in my saving power.

⁶ ponder the earth under your feet. The skies will fade out like smoke, the earth will wear out like work pants, and the people will die off like flies. But my salvation will last forever, my setting-things-right will never be obsolete.

⁷ you who hold my teaching inside you: Pay no attention to insults, and when mocked don't let it get you down.

⁸ from brains that are termite-ridden, But my setting-things-right lasts, my salvation goes on and on and on."

⁹ Wake up as in the old days, in the long ago. Didn't you once make mincemeat of Rahab, dispatch the old chaos-dragon?

¹⁰ the powerful waters of the deep, And then made the bottom of the ocean a road for the redeemed to walk across?

¹¹ come back to Zion cheering, shouting, Joy eternal wreathing their heads, exuberant ecstasies transporting them— and not a sign of moans or groans.

¹² What are you afraid of—or who? Some man or woman who'll soon be dead? Some poor wretch destined for dust?

¹³ who unfurled the skies, who founded the earth. And here you are, quaking like an aspen before the tantrums of a tyrant who thinks he can kick down the world. But what will come of the tantrums?

¹⁴ They're not going to die. They're not even going to go hungry.

¹⁵ who stirs up the sea and whips up the waves, named God-of-the-Angel-Armies.

¹⁶ and personally watch over you, Even while I'm unfurling the skies, setting earth on solid foundations, and greeting Zion: 'Welcome, my people!' "

¹⁷ Up on your feet, Jerusalem! You've drunk the cup God handed you, the strong drink of his anger. You drank it down to the last drop, staggered and collapsed, dead-drunk.

¹⁸ no one among your friends or children to take you by the hand and put you in bed.

¹⁹ —does anyone care? Assault and battery, hunger and death —will anyone comfort?

²⁰ strewn in the streets like stunned rabbits, Sleeping off the strong drink of God's anger, the rage of your God.

²¹ you with your splitting headaches, You who are nursing the hangovers that didn't come from drinking wine.

²² 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!

²³ '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."