Isaiah 47:1-15: a reflection

1“Come down and sit in the dust, virgin daughter of Babylon. Sit on the ground without a throne, daughter of the Chaldeans. For you will no longer be called tender and delicate. 2Take the millstones and grind flour. Remove your veil, lift up your skirt, uncover your legs, and wade through the rivers. 3Your nakedness will be uncovered. Yes, your shame will be seen. I will take vengeance, and will spare no one.” 4Our Redeemer, the LORD of Armies is his name, is the Holy One of Israel. 5“Sit in silence, and go into darkness, daughter of the Chaldeans. For you shall no longer be called the mistress of kingdoms. 6I was angry with my people. I profaned my inheritance and gave them into your hand. You showed them no mercy. You laid a very heavy yoke on the aged. 7You said, ‘I will be a princess forever,’ so that you didn’t lay these things to your heart, nor did you remember the results. 8“Now therefore hear this, you who are given to pleasures, who sit securely, who say in your heart, ‘I am, and there is no one else besides me. I won’t sit as a widow, neither will I know the loss of children.’ 9But these two things will come to you in a moment in one day: the loss of children and widowhood. They will come on you in their full measure, in the multitude of your sorceries, and the great abundance of your enchantments. 10For you have trusted in your wickedness. You have said, ‘No one sees me.’ Your wisdom and your knowledge has perverted you. You have said in your heart, ‘I am, and there is no one else besides me.’ 11Therefore disaster will come on you. You won’t know when it dawns. Mischief will fall on you. You won’t be able to put it away. Desolation will come on you suddenly, which you don’t understand. 12“Stand now with your enchantments and with the multitude of your sorceries, in which you have labored from your youth, as if you might profit, as if you might prevail. 13You are wearied in the multitude of your counsels. Now let the astrologers, the stargazers, and the monthly prognosticators stand up and save you from the things that will happen to you. 14Behold, they are like stubble. The fire will burn them. They won’t deliver themselves from the power of the flame. It won’t be a coal to warm at or a fire to sit by. 15The things that you labored in will be like this: those who have trafficked with you from your youth will each wander in his own way. There will be no one to save you.

This is a word of judgment against Babylon, and at the heart of Babylon's fall is a particular sin: proud, self-secure presumption. Babylon had said in her heart, I am, and there is no one else besides me; I will be a princess forever; I will not sit as a widow. She presumed on her own permanence and security, imagining herself beyond reach of loss or change, trusting her own greatness and her sorceries. And precisely this self-secure pride went before her fall; the security she presumed on proved false.

Notice the presumption at the root of Babylon's fall: a proud confidence in her own permanence and security. I am, and there is no one else, she said; I will be a princess forever. She imagined herself beyond loss, beyond change, secure in her own greatness; she did not lay to heart that it could end. And this false security, this proud presumption on her own permanence, was folly; the loss she thought impossible came upon her. To presume on our own permanence and security, as though we were beyond loss, is a dangerous pride.

That presumption is one we can share, imagining ourselves more secure and permanent than we are. We can settle into a false security, presuming that our position, our comfort, our way of life will simply continue, that we are beyond serious loss or change; and in that presumption we can grow proud and forget our dependence on God. But Babylon's false security proved folly. Do not presume on your own permanence and security, imagining yourself beyond loss or change; such presumption is a pride that goes before a fall, as it did for Babylon. Hold your security humbly, aware that it rests not in your own greatness but in God, and that what you presume will last forever may not. Do not say in your heart, as Babylon did, I am, and there is none besides me; but hold your position and comfort humbly, depending on God rather than presuming on a permanence and security that are not truly yours to command.

Lord, this is a word of judgment against Babylon, and at the heart of her fall is a particular sin: proud, self-secure presumption. She had said in her heart, I am, and there is no one else besides me; I will be a princess forever; I will not sit as a widow. She presumed on her own permanence and security, imagining herself beyond loss or change. And precisely this self-secure pride went before her fall. Show me the presumption at the root of her fall: a proud confidence in her own permanence and security. She imagined herself beyond loss, secure in her own greatness; she did not lay to heart that it could end. And this false security was folly; the loss she thought impossible came upon her. To presume on my own permanence and security, as though I were beyond loss, is a dangerous pride. That presumption is one I can share, imagining myself more secure and permanent than I am. I can settle into a false security, presuming that my position, my comfort, my way of life will simply continue; and in that presumption grow proud and forget my dependence on you. But Babylon's false security proved folly. Keep me from presuming on my own permanence and security, imagining myself beyond loss or change; such presumption is a pride that goes before a fall. Help me hold my security humbly, Lord, aware that it rests not in my own greatness but in you. Keep me from saying in my heart, as Babylon did, I am, and there is none besides me.