Let’s Talk by Doug Foltz
Isaiah 1-4
I started reading Isaiah this morning. To set the scene Isaiah comes in to speak truth to power shortly before the southern kingdom of Judah is exiled to Babylon. The northern kingdom has already been destroyed by Assyria. Things are bleak. The nation is crumbling and corrupt.
Isaiah is a poet which can make it hard for a modern person to read. It’s best to think of him as a singer/songwriter. To get in the mood, listen to Adele’s “Hello.” Not so much for the breakup drama, but for the ache. For that voice calling through silence of brokenness. For the desire to say something honest, even if it’s late.
Now imagine it’s not Adele singing. It’s God. Again not with the “I’m sorry” posture of Adele but with the ache and pain and desire for healing. That’s how Isaiah starts.
“Hello, it’s me. I was wondering if after all these years you’d like to meet.”
“Come now, let us argue it out,” says the Lord. (Isaiah 1:18) NRSV
Isaiah doesn’t open with a comforting word or a list of promises. It starts with grief. Betrayal. The pain of a broken relationship that’s gone toxic.
God says: I’ve raised these children, and they’ve turned on me. He calls out corruption, injustice, and empty worship. Not the kind of worship with the wrong music or lighting, the kind that gathers for an hour on Sunday while ignoring the poor in the street.
It’s the most deconstructing-friendly passage in the Old Testament.
God says, I hate your religious gatherings. Why? Because they’re fake. Performances with no justice. Prayers with no repentance. He’s pissed because they’ve so missed the point.
But here’s the twist. He doesn’t leave. He leans in.
“Let’s talk.”
Later in Isaiah 4, a new image emerges, drawn from Israel’s old stories. God returns like a cloud by day and fire by night. We’re reminded of the wilderness wandering. The in-between time. Between rescue from Egyptian slavery and being established as a nation with a home of their own. A low place of vulnerability. God was present by cloud and fire.
The message? God is saying, “I’m still here with you.” Even in the mess. Even in the failure. Even in the fire.
This is the same God who pitched a tent in the wilderness. Who led them through exile.
Who John would later say, “became flesh and tabernacled (dwelt) among us.” (John 1:14)
What if the fire is presence? What if the anger is love refusing to accept injustice as normal? What if God’s voice in Isaiah isn’t yelling, but pleading for a better way? Think of the ache of a loved one who is destroying themselves and you see it but can’t get through to them. Think of the addicted family member whom you sent to rehab. It feels like fire to them but you intend it for healing.
“Hello from the other side. I must have called a thousand times.” A voice breaking through silence, not to accuse, but to invite.
If you’ve walked away, if the church became a place of performance, If leadership looked more like the corrupt kings of Judah than Jesus, then Isaiah gets you. God’s not looking for a good performance on Sunday. God’s wants a transformed heart. He wants what’s best for you. He’s saying:
Let’s talk.
I’m still here.
He’s started the conversation. Will you continue it?