A Tale of Two Cities
October 14, 2026 • Dan Crabtree • Isaiah 25:1–5, Isaiah 26:1–6
Well, please turn in your Bibles to Isaiah chapter 25. We're going to do something a little bit different this evening. We're going to be looking at two segments that are not contiguous.
Just to explain why we're doing this before we get into it: if you remember the structure, which we'll look at in a moment, the structure of Isaiah 24 to 27 is a chiasm, so it's all sort of pointing towards the center. And as I was studying to prepare for this week, I just couldn't do the disservice to the very center of this section by trying to lump it in with everything else. It needs its own week. So rather than try to just cram it in, I figured instead we would focus on the two songs that surround the center. So that's what we're going to do. They pair well together in thinking about this theme, and they're structured to be parallel anyway, so that's why we're doing this.
So, Isaiah chapter 25. I'll read for us through 26, verse 6.
"O Yahweh, you are my God; I will exalt you; I will praise your name, for you have done wonderful things, plans formed of old, faithful and sure. For you have made the city a heap, the fortified city a ruin; the foreigners' palace is a city no more; it will never be rebuilt. Therefore strong peoples will glorify you; cities of ruthless nations will fear you. For you have been a stronghold to the poor, a stronghold to the needy in his distress, a shelter from the storm and a shade from the heat; for the breath of the ruthless is like a storm against a wall, like heat in a dry place. You subdue the noise of the foreigners; as heat by the shade of a cloud, so the song of the ruthless is put down.
"On this mountain Yahweh of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wine, of rich food full of marrow, of aged wine well refined. And he will swallow up on this mountain the covering that is cast over all peoples, the veil that is spread over all nations. He will swallow up death forever; and the Lord Yahweh will wipe away tears from all faces, and the reproach of his people he will take away from all the earth, for Yahweh has spoken. It will be said on that day, 'Behold, this is our God; we have waited for him, that he might save us. This is Yahweh; we have waited for him; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation.' For the hand of Yahweh will rest on this mountain, and Moab shall be trampled down in his place, as straw is trampled down in a dunghill. And he will spread out his hands in the midst of it as a swimmer spreads his hands out to swim, but Yahweh will lay low his pompous pride together with the skill of his hands. And the high fortifications of his walls he will bring down, lay low, and cast to the ground, to the dust.
"In that day this song will be sung in the land of Judah: 'We have a strong city; he sets up salvation as walls and bulwarks. Open the gates, that the righteous nation that keeps faith may enter in. You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you. Trust in Yahweh forever, for Yahweh is an everlasting rock. For he has humbled the inhabitants of the height, the lofty city. He lays it low, lays it low to the ground, casts it to the dust. The foot tramples it, the feet of the poor, the steps of the needy.'"
So reads the word of the living God.
Isaiah is pleading with us through this text to stop trusting in the deceptive strength of the city of man, because we know how it will end. This section is framed by two songs near the center of this window into the future: one of these two songs largely about the downfall of the mighty, and one about the security of the needy. These songs remind us that in God's economy, it is the weak who are strong. It is the proud who are humbled. He reverses what we expect. It's the arrogant, self-sufficient strong men of our day, the supposed world powers, who will be crushed on that day. And it's the weak and the needy and the helpless and the poor, who rely on God and God alone, who will be exalted with him.
And so Isaiah here is telling us to rip the deceptive mask off of the strength of the present, and to place all of our trust where we know our treasure will last. This is a deeply practical section of Isaiah's apocalypse. For those who are beleaguered and lonely, this is a reminder: it will not always be like this. For the persecuted Christian, this is a reminder that the attacks will end, that their attackers will be themselves attacked and overthrown. And this is a reminder that today, if you feel small and helpless and powerless, whether it's before a health challenge, before an international conflict, before conflict in your own home, whether it's before poverty or sickness or death or any other force in this world, if you feel faint and weary and weak, God is telling you, "Good. That's exactly how I want you to feel, so that you will rely on me and know on that day my perfect strength."
The context, of course, here is Isaiah 24 to 27, usually called Isaiah's Little Apocalypse. I'm calling it Isaiah's Revelation. As we've noted in the previous weeks, it's shaped as an X, or a chiasm, meaning there are parallel structures all leading you to this emphasized point at the center, which is what we're going to look at next week: the feast. That's right at the middle of it. This week we're looking at the brackets to the middle, which are these two songs about cities.
Chapter 24, which preceded this, is all about the end of the world, the destruction of the earth. Every form of might that man can conjure is going to be overthrown on that day. Before this, there's this whole long section where Isaiah is casting down nation after nation after nation, and then all of a sudden, in chapter 24, the whole earth is wrapped up in this great tribulation of judgment. And then God himself, it says, is reigning on Mount Zion in Jerusalem at the end of all of it.
And so, chapter 25, verse 1: all of a sudden a new voice seems to break in. "O Yahweh, you are my God." An individual person speaking directly to God with songs of praise, and that lasts all the way through verse 5. Then verses 6 to 12, you have this feast in the middle, with the judgment that God will bring on his enemies at its tail. And then chapter 26, verses 1 to 6, another song, explicitly called a song there, about a strong city that will survive the judgment of that day.
In a way, this is a response to the end of the world. If God is actually going to overthrow all nations and kingdoms in opposition to him, how does the earth respond? Well, his people respond with praise, with worship, with songs. How fitting. That's how it's always been. Exodus chapter 15: God delivers the people across the Red Sea, and what do they do? They sing. What does David do when God delivers him from trial after trial, from battle after battle? Well, he writes psalms. What do the saints do in the book of Revelation as they see God bringing judgment to the earth and wrapping all of human history up in one final great act of judgment? Well, they sing. So here we find, hopefully not surprisingly, more songs celebrating Yahweh's victory, and this feast in the middle.
And I hope you noticed: these two songs in particular, 25:1–5 and 26:1–6, are all about cities. Did you notice that word? City, city, city, city. It shows up over and over again. This isn't talking about high-rises necessarily, or a place with a corner deli. This is talking about something bigger and broader, something that's been going on for millennia.
And so before we even get into this text, I want to back up and do a little bit of biblical-theological work, again leaning on my friend T. Desmond Alexander in his book The City of God, to do a biblical theology of cities. When Isaiah approaches this issue, he's not coming at it empty-handed. He has a whole drivetrain of theology from Scripture that was written before him that he's bringing to bear when he talks about cities. He's not necessarily talking about one specific city here when he says, for instance, "You have made the city a heap." It's a theme, an idea that he's evoking, that's gathering up this whole thrust of biblical theology in order to make a point in this text.
So I'll walk through this briefly: a biblical theology of cities. Meaning we're going to start from Genesis and go all the way to Revelation. What does the Bible have to say? How does it develop this theme of cities? And why does that matter for these songs and for our lives?
Well, first, when God creates the world, he does not create a city. What does he make? A garden. And he places Adam and Eve in that garden, and he tells them, "Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth." Scatter across the whole face of the earth and fill it with my image-bearers to glorify me. Then, of course, they fall for Satan's trick. They're deceived, they fall into sin, and in Genesis 4 they begin having children, one of whom slays his brother. That's Cain, and God marks him to protect him and says, "You're going to be a wanderer across the earth." Cain, Genesis 4 tells us, goes some distance east of Eden, but then he stops wandering, and he builds for himself a city. Genesis 4:17 says he names it after his son, Enoch.
This is the first city that we see in Scripture. The word "city" shows up over a thousand times in the Old Testament. It mostly just means a settlement with a wall, usually with some sort of fortification, some sort of protection. That's the idea of a city in the ancient world. And from the very beginning, these man-made cities are a construct in defiance of God. Cities made by men throughout Scripture are monuments of rebellion. They are a walled settlement, implying defenses, meaning, "We're going to protect ourselves." And this concern about cities is massive, especially in the Old Testament.
When it comes to thinking about cities in Scripture, when people gather together, build their homes and businesses close to each other, and then protect it with some sort of mechanism, a wall or some other thing, there are three questions that you should ask. Number one, who built it? Number two, who guards it? And number three, who is glorified in it? That's what's set up in Genesis chapter 4, and we see all the wrong answers to those three questions: man, man, man, throughout the rest of the Old Testament.
Genesis chapter 11: you fast-forward after the flood, and there man is building, wouldn't you know it, a city. They develop this new technology, brick, and they start making a large tower with it to reach up to heaven, rather than scattering over the earth as God had commanded and filling it with his image-bearers. They say, "No, we will congregate together." They say, "Let us make a city for ourselves, for our own name." It's to glorify themselves. We build it for us; we defend it for our glory. That's why we built this city. And of course, ironically, God himself has to stoop down to find their very big, tall tower, and he scatters them into different languages, confuses them, and it's called Babel because of that. This is the only time the ESV translates it "Babel." Every other time that word shows up in the Scriptures, it's translated "Babylon," which is significant. Anytime Babylon shows up, it evokes the idea of the proud self-exaltation of men enthroned in the form of a city.
Then you get to Abraham. He's called to leave his city and to go wander around Canaan, the promised land, until God tells him where he's going to establish a new city. Hebrews chapter 11, verse 10 tells us, "Abraham was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God." Abraham knew that God was going to keep his promise to exalt God's name by building a city through Abraham. And here we learn that God is not fundamentally opposed to the idea of people gathering together, of a city, of buildings, of walls. It's not inherently evil. But he is against the ones that men make for their own glory. He himself will build a city, and Abraham believed in that promise while he was dwelling in tents, unwilling to take the matter into his own hands like the Babylonians.
And so, fast-forward to Egypt. God appears to Moses, commissions him, and tells him in Exodus chapter 6 that God will dwell with his people one day, that he will be their God and they will be his people, after he delivers them and brings them to a land and builds them cities. Then, on the other side of the Red Sea, the people sing in Exodus chapter 15, the first song in Scripture: "You will bring them in and plant them on your own mountain, the place, O Yahweh, which you have made for your abode, the sanctuary, O Lord, which your hands have established."
So now we know that in this promised land there's going to be a city where God himself is going to live, that God himself is going to build, where God is meeting with man. And it's going to be, he says, on a mountain. It's going to be something like Sinai. And so the people believe in a place that God will build to dwell with men, like the garden but different: a sanctuary, a temple on a mountain.
And then eventually they do build a temple. They get a king. King David wants to build a temple. God says no; his son Solomon does. David has conquered Jerusalem, and in Deuteronomy chapter 12 God had promised that there was going to be a city where he was going to place his name, and it turns out it's that one. So Solomon builds this temple, the dwelling place for God, in Zion, in Jerusalem, on a mount, the place where God promised to dwell with man, a place that God himself says he has built, at least by instruction. And when Solomon builds the temple, do you remember how he decorates it? It looks like a garden, where God would dwell with Adam and Eve and where one day he would dwell with man again.
And from that we get psalm after psalm after psalm with just exalted language about this city and about the temple, don't we? There are too many to name. Here's just one, Psalm 87: "On the holy mount stands the city he founded" — so God is the builder — "Yahweh loves the gates of Zion more than all the dwelling places of Jacob. Glorious things of you are spoken, O city of God," from which, of course, we get the hymn.
And then you go to the prophets. Prophets like Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Zechariah, and several others continue to see the importance of Jerusalem as the city of God, the city that God founded, where he would dwell with his people. Things actually seem to be moving in the direction that they should be. It's almost like we're going to recapture the garden, but now in a city. But then the prophets begin to tell us what the situation really is in that city. That city has left faithfulness to God. Judgment is roundly poured out on several ancient cities, including Jerusalem.
And so it's to the future that the prophets look. Isaiah chapter 2, verse 2: "It shall come to pass in the latter days that the mountain of the house of Yahweh shall be established as the highest of the mountains." Or Ezekiel chapter 40: Ezekiel sees a vision of a city with a temple in it that's still yet future. He had seen the glory of God leaving Jerusalem, the city where he had dwelt, and now he sees it inhabiting the city again, but sometime in the future. Ezekiel 40, verse 2: "In visions of God he brought me to the land of Israel, and set me down on a very high mountain, on which was a structure like a city to the south." Zechariah similarly, chapter 8, verse 3: "Thus says Yahweh: I have returned to Zion and will dwell in the midst of Jerusalem, and Jerusalem shall be called the faithful city, and the mountain of Yahweh of hosts, the holy mountain."
H. A. Thomas says, "Zion represents God's people living in God's place under God's rule." And the prophets say it's not happening now. Because of their sin, they have broken covenant with God, so God sends them into exile. Even after they come back from exile, God hasn't returned to his city. The city of man has become one with Jerusalem.
By the time you get to the New Testament, when Jesus himself shows up in Jerusalem, which should be the city where God is dwelling, it's full of money changers. And they don't even recognize their King. Jesus himself laments over Jerusalem as "the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it," Matthew 23:37. Indeed, Jerusalem becomes the city of man. What should have, on this trajectory, become the glorious garden city of God has devolved into the place of man's power. And man attempts to murder God by crucifying Jesus.
So Jesus, after his resurrection, sends his followers across the globe with the news that a new Jerusalem is coming, and only in Christ can they enter it. And of course, by the time you get to the end of the New Testament, in the book of Revelation, that's where you finally do see that city. Revelation chapters 21 and 22: John says, "I saw a city coming down out of heaven, like a bride adorned for her husband." It's the New Jerusalem in the new heavens and new earth, this biblical picture of God's city.
John says it comes out of heaven, meaning God built it. He says there's no more death and no more enemies there: God guards it. And he says in Revelation 22, "His servants will worship him. They will see his face." God is glorified in it. It's the total opposite of the city of man. Finally, God dwelling with man in a city, of all places.
Interesting that it has garden imagery all over the New Jerusalem, isn't it? There's the river of life; there's the tree of life for the healing of the nations. It's like the garden again, but it's even better. And there's city imagery. There are walls. There are dimensions to the thing. It's like this odd 3D structure. How does that work? I don't know, but somehow it works. You know what else was a perfect cube? The Holy of Holies in the temple. Now it's expanded to the whole city. God overrules man's defiance in the city and turns it to his own glory and to their good.
And so Isaiah is coming into the middle of this very long, glorious picture of what God is doing to redeem man's futile efforts to overthrow him, by creating a garden city for his own people to dwell in. And Isaiah specifically has a keen interest in the concept of the city of man and the city of God. I'm sure you're familiar: Augustine, the church father in the fourth century, wrote a book called The City of God. He called them the earthly city and the city of God, or you could call it the city of man and the city of God. And Isaiah is keenly aware of this biblical concept and employs this theme all throughout his prophecies, maybe more than any other prophet.
You remember back in chapter 1, he said the city is besieged, the city is destroyed. It's a lonely city. Isaiah chapter 1, verse 26: he calls it the faithful city that's become a harlot, but then it's going to be redeemed and be made into a faithful city. Isaiah 14:21: he tells them to kill Babylon, "lest they rise and possess the earth, and fill the face of the world with cities." That was Babylon's goal: let me just fill the world with things that I make, things that demonstrate my might and my power. And God says, "No, I'm putting an end to that." Isaiah 13 to 35, you just see scattered images of cities being overthrown left and right. Isaiah 38, verse 6, God says, "I will defend this city," speaking of Jerusalem. Isaiah 45, verse 13, after the exile, he says Cyrus, this Medo-Persian king, is going to come and rebuild the city, Jerusalem, which of course he does.
And then, passage after passage after passage in Isaiah, he is relentlessly pointing our eyes forward to the New Jerusalem, that glorious city, the ultimate city, the city of God. Did you notice even on this slide here, three whole chapters, Isaiah 60, 61, and 62, dedicated to that city, which we'll get to in, I don't know, a year, a year and a half, whenever we get there. The point is, he's constantly looking forward to this city, isn't he? This is a massive part of Isaiah's hope for the future. This is not an inconsequential theological idea for him. This is his hope: that there are all these cities out there with wicked men in them that are trying to overthrow God's city, but he knows in the end God will plant his city, and it will be secure, and God himself will be glorified in it.
That's his hope. And that's why at the center of his eschatology, he has these two songs about two cities, one about the city of men, one about the city of God. It shouldn't be surprising if you look at the rest of Scripture. He's just keying in on what everyone else has been saying: that there's a city, or cities, that represent the strength and the power and the protection and the glory of man, and there's one that represents that of God, and only one of those is going to endure. That's what these songs are about: praising God for the glory of his city. It's a huge thematic concept in the Bible and in Isaiah, and these songs are a kind of climax of it.
I think the thing that I don't want you to miss as we look at these verses is that what we're dealing with is worship. We're dealing with songs. The form of it matters. The fact that he said, "In that day this song will be sung in the land of Judah," that's not inconsequential. It's the point. God will overthrow the city of man and establish his own city in order to glorify himself, to win for himself worship. As Isaiah shows us, the reason we can trust in God and in his lasting city is primarily about whose glory we love the most.
And so we're going to look at this in two parts, for the two songs. We can praise God for two cities and their fate.
First, we praise God for the end of the city of man.
Look at chapter 25, verse 1, this first song. Isaiah says, "O Yahweh, you are my God; I will exalt you; I will praise your name." He doesn't explicitly call this a song in this section, but this is psalmic language. He's borrowing Psalm 25, verse 2; Psalm 7, verse 2; Psalm 31, verse 15; Psalm 30, verse 2; Psalm 118, verse 28; Psalm 145, verse 1. I mean, just over and over, he's borrowing language from the Psalms to sing about God's victory over the city of man, which is what he had just been describing. We didn't read it this evening, but for 23 verses in chapter 24 he was talking about how God is going to destroy the city of man, all of man's might and power and strength, emblemized by a city. He's going to overthrow that, and so he worships him for bringing an end to the city of men.
And he does it in a personal way. Did you notice that? "O Yahweh, you are my God." He's going to get to the corporate later. But he starts by saying, "You are my God." And the way that the Psalter uses that specific phrase, it's always an expression of trust. It's not possession, like, "God, you belong to me, so I can make you do what I want you to do." It's an expression of dependence: "You're my God. You're the one I trust in." And it's also an expression of the culminating promise from Exodus chapter 6, verse 7, where God says, "I will be your God, and you will be my people." Revelation 21 quotes that exact same thing: "I will be with them as their God, and they will be my people."
And this language is supposed to be an obvious contrast with the songs from the city of men, isn't it? You remember back in chapter 24, verse 8: "The mirth of the tambourines is stilled, the noise of the jubilant has ceased, the mirth of the lyre is stilled." There's no more singing going on in the city of man. They had their drinking songs; those are done. This is way different. This genre of music is worship. He says, "I will exalt you." This is also language from the Psalter. It's a song celebrating God's defeat of the wicked.
He says, "I will praise your name, for you have done wonderful things": miracles, supernatural acts that God does when he redeems his people and saves them. The preeminent one in the Old Testament, of course, is the Exodus, the parting of the Red Sea and the wonders poured out on Egypt. He says, "You've done that, and you've done it again. You've done these supernatural things that have overthrown the city of man. They could never have stopped it. And so I'm worshiping you for it."
He says that's according to "plans formed of old, faithful and sure," meaning this wasn't a detour. This wasn't plan B for God. This was always the plan. Meaning, from Isaiah's perspective, living in the eighth century BC, God wasn't out of control when Assyria was raging. No, that was part of the plan that leads to this. You can almost hear Ahaz quivering in the background, and Isaiah, with a firm footing in God's eternal decree, saying, "No, this has always been what God was planning to do. Formed of old, faithful and sure. God said it; it's going to happen."
"Faithful and sure" is literally just two conjugations of the word "amen," meaning truth. Amen, amen. It's happening. God, before time even began, decided exactly what was going to happen. This is a promises-kept moment. The word is fulfilled, the doubt is removed, all is accomplished.
And what is it that he's accomplished? Verse 2: "You have made the city a heap." The city, this representation of the power and the structures and the might and the military strength and the protection of man, he says all of it is just a pile of stones, a ruin. That's paralleled with "fortified city." The first word there is a slightly different word, less often used, qiryah. It's a synonym for a city, related to the word for building with wooden beams, so maybe a fort is how we might think about it, a walled village of some kind. And he says it's a betsurah city, a walled or fortified city. I think the word is supposed to be ironic. It means unassailable. You couldn't ever conquer this city. Its walls were ten feet thick, and you could ride so many horses on top of them. Oh, is that what's going to protect it? High walls, gates, bars? Well, no. It's also a ruin. All those big, important weapons and defenses that you managed to conjure up didn't do anything.
"Ruin" is a word for a fallen thing, something that's collapsed, something that's struck down. Chapter 27, verse 10, he says, "The fortified city is solitary, a habitation deserted and forsaken like the wilderness." Just emptiness, nothingness, piles of stone, no people, no more defenses, totally destroyed.
He says "the foreigners' palace is a city no more." It doesn't even exist as a city. This word "palace" is a citadel, some highly protected walled area. You might think of it like a castle, a keep, well-defended. "Foreigners" meaning the enemies of Israel. And he says it's so utterly overthrown, it's not coming back.
Verse 3, here's the effect of that great conquest, God overthrowing all the strength of men: "Therefore strong peoples will glorify you; cities of ruthless nations will fear you." The effect is an increase in Yahweh's esteem, even among pagan nations. This word "strong peoples" is exactly what it sounds like: people who had strength, people who had might, military strength, who could overthrow other nations. They themselves were overthrown by God, and so they had to give glory to God. They had to admit they were bested. There was one who was stronger.
This word "ruthless," "ruthless nations," is used three times in these verses. Probably a better way to translate it might be "fearsome." Some people translate it "awe-inspiring." But I think the idea is that they inspire fear in other people. They're terrifying, bloodthirsty, violent nations, like the Assyrians of Isaiah's day. And it says they will fear you. That's supposed to be ironic. The people that everyone else was afraid of are now afraid of God, as they should be. It's sort of by transitive property: if you were afraid of him, and now he's afraid of God, who should you really be afraid of? The bigger fish, right?
So, verse 4, the reason for it. He says, "For you have been a stronghold to the poor." God won this praise through the destruction of the mighty and the protection of the needy. The word "stronghold" here just means a place of protection, safety, a refuge. Sometimes it's a castle, sometimes it's a harbor, sometimes it's a temple, sometimes it's a mountain. Most of the time this word "stronghold" is used in the Old Testament, it's translated "refuge," and it's referring to God. God is our stronghold, our refuge, our strength: Isaiah 17:10, Isaiah 27:5. He is our refuge, our stronghold.
And who is he a stronghold for? Is it for the strong people, the people who help themselves out? No, it's the opposite. "For you have been a stronghold to the poor, a stronghold to the needy in his distress." The idea is people who had nothing that they could contribute. They didn't have money. They didn't have an armory full of weapons. They didn't have strength to speak of. They were just helpless and in trouble. All they had was need. They had empty hands. Those are the people that God is the stronghold for. The people who are the antithesis of the fortified city and the palace are the ones that God saves.
He says he's "a shelter from the storm and a shade from the heat." He's going to use these two metaphors a couple of different ways. A storm: just a rainstorm. Rain comes pelting down, and there's some sort of overhang, some sort of shelter, a ceiling to keep you dry. And heat: the heat of the sun at midday, particularly in the desert, when it's beating down on you, and now there's a shade protecting you from it. That's God for his people. It's the same image used in Isaiah 4:6 and 28:15.
And it gets at the central thrust of Isaiah's prophecies over and over again. Haven't we heard the same thing? Isaiah is just asking the people of Israel, what is your refuge? What is your shelter? To whom do you look for a sense of security? Is it an allied nation, like Egypt, or Syria at times, or eventually, we'll see, Babylon itself? Is it yourself and your own military strength? Is it your wisdom and your might? Is it any of the things that the nations themselves look to? He says here that on that last day, the only stronghold left will be God, and he saves the needy people.
He clarifies his metaphor in verse 4: "For the breath of the ruthless is like a storm against a wall." The life and energy, the words and expenditures of the violent, of the bloodthirsty, all that they do in attacking and mounting up against God's people, it's like their breath. They're constantly breathing out threats and murder. I think of it like the big bad wolf. He's huffing and puffing, and he can't blow it down. There's a shelter that won't give.
The heat metaphor is used again in verse 5: "like heat in a dry place," like in a desert. "You subdue the noise of the foreigners; as heat by the shade of a cloud, so the song of the ruthless is put down." Here he's likening the sounds that God's enemies make to the heat from the sun: their taunts and their challenges, their threats and their boasts, their victory banquets. And God silences all of it just as effortlessly and as gently as a cloud passing under the sun. It's like he doesn't even have to try. They're constantly, furiously working up this din of noise and furor, and God just gently silences all of it. In a moment, all of the heat is gone. The song is put down.
Again, it's ironic: a song about a song being put down, a song exalting God and ending all other songs. It's kind of like we sing in "Crown Him with Many Crowns": "the Lamb upon his throne; hark, how the heavenly anthem drowns all music but its own." That's what he's saying. He's harkening back here to 24:8 and the silencing of the wasted city.
What he's saying is that, friends, one day Hollywood will be deserted. One day Nashville will just be a bunch of crickets. One day New York and London and Hong Kong and Tokyo and Mumbai, one day Washington, D.C., will be a meaningless footnote in the history of the greater glory of God and his city. There is nothing left of the city of man. It is a ruin, forgotten and powerless, and that's the point. That's what they're praising God for. They're worshiping God for overthrowing any attempt by us to exalt ourselves over him. "Look, look at the city I built." "Not impressed," God says.
A couple of applications from this one. Don't set your hope on the city of man. Of course, that happens around election cycles. It happens when there's war, when there's famine, when there are viruses. We look to a government. We look to the strength of men: help us, save us. Isaiah would tell us, don't trust in that, the chariots and the horses.
It's not that it's a bad thing to be mindful and to vote and to be aware and try to contribute in a meaningful way to democracy. I think now of the constitutional amendments that are coming up in Virginia. Just vote no to them. They're very confusing. I'm just clarifying. Just vote no. I mean, do you think if they pass, God loses? No. God hasn't lost one inch. That was part of his plan, formed of old. Eventually that city, no matter how much it thrives, is going down. So you don't have to put your trust in some political campaign or measure.
In fact, I think what Isaiah is telling us here is that we can rejoice, knowing that the city of man one day is coming down, the city of wickedness and human pride. It doesn't last. As we sing, the worldling's pleasures are all being overthrown, but "solid joys and lasting treasure none but Zion's children know." It belongs only to the city of God to endure that day, but the city of man is going away.
A day is coming, friends, when every abortion mill will be closed. A day is coming when every unjust judge will be behind bars, so to speak. A day is coming when every wicked law, every corrupt politician, every horrible scheme of man and device of murder and sedition and wickedness will be cast into the lake of fire, along with the devil and the Antichrist, forever and ever. And only Christ will reign on that day.
So you don't have to be afraid of those things. It doesn't mean we don't have something to do today. We do. We've got work. But it does mean we don't have to fear that city. We don't have to be overwhelmed by it. "What are we going to do if this person wins this election? What are we going to do if this country does this?" Well, I don't know what we're going to do, but God's going to win. In the end, the city of man will be overthrown, and God will institute his strong city. And so we praise God for the end of the city of man.
Second, we praise God for the strength of the city of God.
And that's what we see in the second song, chapter 26, verses 1 to 6. He says, "In that day this song will be sung in the land of Judah." After reflecting on the glories of the feast that will happen in that city, which we'll look at next week, he explodes with this song of praise to God, which he says is going to be sung in the land of Judah. It's particularized. It's localized to the place where God's people, his covenant people, are dwelling in Isaiah's day and will dwell forever. The survivors, the remnant who return, are going to sing this specific song.
I mean, that's a statement in Scripture. It says this song will be sung. I take that literally. I think people will actually be singing this song. I don't know if it'll be in Hebrew or another language, but they'll be singing this exact song at some point in the future.
And here's the lyric: "We have a strong city." Whereas the nations considered themselves strong, chapter 25, verse 3, "strong peoples," this one actually is strong. This is a strength of a totally different kind than the strength of the city of men. This is not just walls but bigger, stones but stronger, masonry but more delicately constructed. No, this is defense of a higher caliber. And he tells you what it is: "We have a strong city; he sets up salvation as walls and bulwarks." Meaning, walls are an illustration of the protection that comes through God's acts of salvation, acts of deliverance.
And we're prepared to understand how this works by the Iron Dome. You're aware of this in Israel? The Iron Dome has, for 15 years or so, been shooting down missiles as they're being launched at Israel. They say it's intercepted over 10,000 pieces of ordnance with Tamir missiles at this point. The idea is that someone shoots a missile at Israel, they detect it, they shoot another missile, and it hits it and it's gone. So the threat is gone. It's not a literal wall, but it's like a wall, because it gets rid of the threat.
That's what he's saying. God is salvation to his people, not just as another wall, but like a wall: he protects them in that he accomplishes these great acts of salvation that remove all the threats that would endanger them. This is accomplished by God in the tribulation, the overthrow of the Antichrist at the Battle of Armageddon, the overthrow of Satan at the battle of Gog and Magog. Or even in Isaiah's time, he sees an illustration of this: 185,000 Assyrians dead in the night. God didn't need a wall to do that. He didn't even need a single sword. It was one angel. That was it. That's why he says in Isaiah chapter 12, verse 2, "Behold, God is my salvation." It's worth noting that the Hebrew word for salvation here is yeshua, from which, of course, we get Jesus.
Verse 2: they now call to the rest of the nations, "Open the gates, that the righteous nation that keeps faith may enter in." So this is not some Jewish-only salvation, some ethnically homogeneous city. This is open to the nations. Revelation 21 says that nations are going to come in and out and bring their treasures into this city. This is a city for all peoples who trust in Yahweh. Notice it clarifies that "the righteous nation that keeps faith may enter in." The nation that is bowed in humble submission to Yahweh, trusting him like Israel should: those nations are allowed in.
And we've actually started to see little glimpses of that already in Isaiah. You remember back in Isaiah chapter 18, verse 7, we saw that Cush was bringing tribute. The African nations are bringing tribute to Yahweh in Zion. Egypt and Assyria, in Isaiah 19:23, are forming this massive highway, the center of which is Jerusalem, the city of God, Zion. Jeremiah 48 and 49 tell us about Moab and Ammon and Elam. Zechariah 14 says all of these nations are going to be observing the Feast of Booths, of all things, and coming into the city and worshiping God there: global worship brought to honor God, demonstrating the greater strength of his salvation and his city.
And because of that, he makes this almost paradigmatic statement, this declaration of timeless truth, in verse 3. My son is memorizing this right now for AWANA: "You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you." Fascinating little verse. It actually starts in Hebrew with the word "mind," and it's not the normal word for mind. It's a word that means intention, or purposes, or designs, your plans, that are "stayed." That's a passive participle of the word "support." It means the one whose plans and purposes and designs are being established by, supported by, steadied by God. That fearless mind, he says, is kept in perfect peace.
That phrase "perfect peace" in Hebrew is literally shalom shalom. It's just a doubling of the Hebrew word, which our translators render "perfect peace," because that is the sense of it, the idea of completeness. And it's talking here about an internal peace. The external peace is obvious, but he's talking about the mind, the inner part of man. He says the man whose designs are supported, whose intentions are established by God, is fearless; he has perfect peace. There's no intrusion of anxiety or fear, because he trusts in you. God gives that peace to the people who trust in him. The one whose confidence is in God has a fearless frame of mind and is kept in complete peace.
Again, that's a total contrast with Ahaz. He hears there are a couple of nations coming after him, and he starts shaking like a leaf on a tree. And Isaiah is saying, listen, if I submit all of my designs, all of my plans to God, then he will just give me perfect peace as I trust in whatever he wants to do with that.
How is it that you can do that? Because, verse 4, "Trust in Yahweh forever, for Yahweh" — literally, Yah Yahweh — "is an everlasting rock." Because he's actually worthy of your trust. That's the symbol of the rock: something strong, stable, like a fortress you can always run to. Everlasting. It's not going anywhere. It's going to stay there forever. He's almost saying there are so many temporary pebbles that we put our trust in: ourselves, our country, our plans, our money, our doctors. He says those are not an everlasting rock. God is. So trust a trustworthy rock. Trust in a city whose foundation and builder is God, not in your own designs.
Why? Verse 5: "For he has humbled the inhabitants of the height, the lofty city." Because God is ultimately committed to his glory. That's what he's saying. God will on that day lay low those who are self-exalting, the lofty city. We've seen this over and over in Isaiah: people exalting themselves, the pompous pride of their arrogance, as he calls it. He is going to level them and lay them low to the ground, to the dust. "The inhabitants of the height," he says: those who really did have some minor altitude advantage are now cast all the way down on that day, and now they're in the dust. When you trust in man-made strength, you will share in Satan's dust-licking humiliation.
And in contrast, verse 6: "The foot tramples it, the feet of the poor, the steps of the needy." Again, the poor people, the people who have nothing to offer, the people who recognize, "I'm not strong, I'm not powerful, God is, so I'm depending wholly on him." Those people, who have the strength of Almighty God with them, are walking all over their enemies.
You put that all together, and what's he saying? He's saying, if you want to have perfect peace, you submit all of your plans and designs to God, knowing that he will always ultimately exalt himself over every power and strength and glory of man. And if that is your greatest desire, then you have no reason to fear, because it's always going to happen. Right? If God always exalts himself, and what you want is for God to be glorified, then do you have anything to be afraid of at any point? Though the nations rage, though they plot in vain? Absolutely not. Because God is always going to bring all of human history toward this climactic end of his glory and the humiliation of any who would oppose him. First Corinthians 15:25: "For he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet." And one day he will.
He's saying, put all of your trust in God's strength. And that can sound kind of like a Christian Hallmark card, or like a platitude: "Just trust God, right? I don't know. I'm sorry stuff is hard. Just trust God." It can sound that way, until you get into this and you realize what he's saying. He's saying, you want perfect peace? You can have it. The way that you get it is to cause all of your intentions to be: God, be glorified. God, be glorified; I know you will on that day. God, however you want to do it in my life today, be glorified. Be glorified. If I don't get the job, be glorified. If you don't heal me, be glorified. If we lose the war, be glorified. Whatever it is, God, if you would exalt yourself, if you would win for yourself praise in an eternal hall of heaven, a city rejoicing in your strength over the strength of men, if you would do that, let me play whatever part you would have for me in that story. Only would you be glorified.
So you see, at the end of the day, these songs are really deeply practical. They're about us and what we love. Do we love the glory that comes from the city of man? From our own strength? From what another person can give you, fear of man? From military might or power or YouTube likes or a million other things that people could give? Or do you love the glory of God more?
Augustine himself put it this way in The City of God: "Accordingly, two cities have been formed by two loves: the earthly by the love of self, even to the contempt of God; the heavenly by the love of God, even to the contempt of self. The former, in a word, glories in itself, the latter in the Lord. For the one seeks glory from men; but the greatest glory of the other is God, the witness of conscience. The one lifts up its head in its own glory; the other says to its God, 'Thou art my glory, and the lifter up of mine head.' In the one, the princes and the nations it subdues are ruled by the love of ruling; in the other, the princes and the subjects serve one another in love, the latter obeying, while the former take thought for all. The one delights in its own strength, represented in the persons of its rulers; the other says to its God, 'I will love thee, O Lord, my strength.'"
You know, Jesus encountered this same dynamic in his own time on earth, which John tells us was reflected by Isaiah. John chapter 12, verse 36: "When Jesus had said these things, he departed and hid himself from them. Though he had done so many signs before them, they still did not believe in him, so that the word spoken by the prophet Isaiah might be fulfilled: 'Lord, who has believed what he heard from us, and to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?' Therefore they could not believe. For again Isaiah said, 'He has blinded their eyes and hardened their heart, lest they see with their eyes, and understand with their heart, and turn, and I would heal them.'" Listen to this: "Isaiah said these things because he saw his glory and spoke of him. Nevertheless, many even of the authorities believed in him, but for fear of the Pharisees they did not confess it, so that they would not be put out of the synagogue; for they loved the glory that comes from man more than the glory that comes from God."
So I think the question to ask yourself, when presented with this song of two cities, is: which glory do I love? The fading glory of a worldly city that's passing away, along with all of its entailments and enjoyments? Or do I love a city that will never fade, whose light is the Lamb and whose glory is God himself? Hebrews 13 says we don't even have a city here, but we seek a lasting city.