The Preacher's Homiletical Commentary
Isaiah 21:11-12
THE BURDEN OF DUMAH
Isaiah 21:11. The burden of Dumah, &c.
There are three distinct prophecies in this chapter, and they are all termed burdens, as denoting heavy judgments. The first respects Babylon; the next, Dumah, Idumea, or Edom, inhabiting Mount Seir; and the last, Arabia.
The fall of Babylon by the Medes and Persians is announced under the form of a watchman stationed to discover approaching objects, with orders to declare what he saw (Isaiah 21:6). It was an event peculiarly interesting to Judah. Babylon was the floor on which Judah was to be thrashed, till the refuse should be separated from the grain. The event which destroyed the one delivered the other (Isaiah 21:10).
The fall of Babylon was interesting to other nations as well as Judah; particularly to the Idumeans or Edomites, who were reduced to servitude within a few years after the taking of Jerusalem. Now, seeing that Judah had received a favourable report, Edom must needs inquire of the watchman (like Pharaoh’s baker) of Joseph, after he had announced good tidings to the butler, whether there was nothing equally favourable to them. [We are not to understand, however, that messengers were really sent out of Edom to Isaiah; the process was merely a pneumatical one.—Delitzsch.] The answer is, NOTHING; but, on the contrary, the lot of Judah’s enemies, “a burden.”
The revolution would indeed, for a time, excite the joy of the conquered nations (chap. Isaiah 14:7); but the Edomites should meet with a disappointment. To them a change of government should only be a change of masters. The fair morning of their hopes should issue in a long and dark night of despondency. In the day of Babylon’s fall, according to the prayer of the captives, when every prisoner was lifting up his head in hope, Edom was remembered, as excepted from an act of grace, on account of his singular atrocities (Psalms 137:7).
The Edomites were very impatient under the Babylonish yoke, and very importunate in their inquiries after deliverance; reiterating the question, “What of the night? Watchman, what of the night?” When will this dark and long captivity be ended? And now that their hopes are repulsed by the watchman’s answer, they are exceedingly unwilling to relinquish them. Loth to depart with an answer so ungrateful, they linger, and inquire again and again, in hopes that the sentence may be reversed. But they are told that all their lingering is in vain. “If ye will inquire, inquire ye, return, come” again; yet shall your answer be the same.
And what was the crime of the Edomites that should draw down upon them this heavy burden, this irresistible doom? Their inveterate hatred of the people of God (Obadiah 1:10). Perhaps there was no nation whose treatment of Israel was so invariably spiteful, and whose enmity was accompanied with such aggravating circumstances. They were descended from Abraham and Isaac, and were treated by Israel, at the time they came out of Egypt, as brethren; but as they then returned evil for good (Numbers 20:14), so it was ever afterwards. Their conduct, on the melancholy occasion of Jerusalem being taken by the Chaldeans, was infamous (Obadiah 1:10).
The passage affords a tremendous lesson to ungodly sinner, and especially to those who, having descended from pious parents, and possessed religious advantages, are, notwithstanding, distinguished by their enmity to true religion. The situation of the Edomites rendered it impossible for them to be so ignorant as other heathen nations of the God of Israel; and their hatred appears to have been proportioned to their knowledge. Such is the character of great numbers in the religious world. They have both seen and hated the truth. The consequence will be, if grace prevent not, they will flatter themselves awhile with vain hopes; but, ere they are aware, their morning will be changed into an endless night.
Edom was once addressed in the language of kindness and brotherly affection; but having turned a deaf ear to this, all their inquiries after deliverance are now utterly disregarded. Such will be the end of sinners. “When once the Judge hath risen up and shut the door,” they may begin to knock, may inquire and return, and come again, but all will be in vain; a night of ever-during darkness must be their portion.
The passage also, taken in its connection, holds up to us the different situation of the friends and enemies of God under public calamities. It is natural in such circumstances for all to inquire, “What of the night? Watchman, what of the night?” Each, also, may experience a portion of successive light and darkness in his lot. But the grand difference lies in the issue of things. God’s people were thrashed on the floor of Babylon; and, when purified, were presently restored. To them there arose light in darkness. Weeping continued for a night, but joy came in the morning. Not so with Edom; their night came last. Such will be the portion of God’s enemies: they may wish for changes, in hope of their circumstances being bettered; but the principal thing wanting is a change in themselves. While strangers to this, the oracles of Heaven prophesy no good concerning them. A morning may come, but the night cometh also.—Andrew Fuller: Complete Works, pp. 514, 515.
The whole Bible has, as its common and pervading argument, one mighty subject, which, appearing in a thousand different forms, is substantially the same in every page of the sacred volume. That subject is, the salvation appointed for the chosen of mankind, and the ruin decreed for those who reject the offer. Therefore when the prophetic Scriptures publish to us promises of peace and denunciations of woe, let us never deem that the Divine Spirit had no ulterior purpose in these predictions. Let us never cast aside the volume and cry that we are not Edom, or Egypt, or Babylon, or Tyre; and that, therefore, we have nothing to do either with their crimes or their punishment. Let us not vainly dream that the mighty machinery of the prophetic messages was put into play merely to call down curses on a few of the temporary dynasties of this perishable world! “All Scripture was written for our use,” and these “springing and germinant prophecies” (as they have been called) have a significancy beyond the revolutions of petty kingdoms. They represent, in majestic order and manifest type, the great truths of eternal salvation and eternal ruin; they exhibit, in the sensible language of exterior imagery, what the great Teacher of after-times gave in the higher language of spiritual truth. If the laws of God be uniform and unchangeable, we are justified in reading by this light from heaven the prophetic declarations of the course and principles of His earthly providences.
With such views as these elevating our thoughts beyond the details of perished empires into the mightier truths of the eternal empire of our God, let us reflect briefly upon the words before us.
The prophet appears to introduce himself as addressed in scorn by the people of the land which he is commissioned to warn. “Watchman, what of the night?” What new report of woe hast thou to unroll, who hast placed thyself as an authorised observer and censurer of our doings? But the prophetical watchman—the calm commissioner of Heaven—replies, adopting their own language, “Yes, the morning (the true morning of hope and peace) cometh, and also the night (the real and terrible night of God’s vengeance); if ye will (if ye are in genuine earnest to inquire), inquire! Return, come.” Obtain the knowledge you seek, the knowledge of the way of life; and, acting upon this knowledge, repent and return to the Lord your God.
Regard, then, the guilty Edom that is warned; and the office and answer of the watchman who warns it.
I cannot now undertake to count over the array of those who address the spiritual watchmen of the Church of Christ in tones of derision, and mock their ministry. Some there are who ask the report of “the night” with utter carelessness as to the reply; some there are who ask it in contempt.
But what is still the duty of him who holds the momentous position of watchman in the city of God? On the occasion before us, remark—
1. He did not turn away from the question, in whatever spirit it was asked.
2. He uttered with equal assurance a threat and a promise.
3. He pressed the necessity of care in the study, and earnest inquiry after the nature, of the truth; and he summed up all in an anxious, a cordial, and reiterated invitation to repentance and reconciliation with an offended but pardoning God. Thus, the single verse might be regarded as an abstract of the duties of the ministerial office.—W. Archer Butler: Sermons, vol. ii. pp. 339–345.
NIGHT AND MORNING
Isaiah 21:11. Watchman, what of the night?
That there is night in this world few will question. He must be a bold optimist who thinks everything as it is, is for the best possible in the best possible of worlds. Darkness still covers the earth. God’s children, who have a glorious light within them, have a dark night all round about them. Night is the symbol of gloom and suffering; and it is the season of sin. It is moral night, because “men love darkness rather than light.” Every true-hearted, earnest Christian is a watchman: he watches for his own soul, and for the souls of others; and he longs for the advent of the world’s new morning, when the shadows shall flee away. Regarding the earnest Christian as the person accosted in the text, what are his thoughts and fears about the night? What are his hopes about the morning?
I. When the Christian looks out upon the world, he sees himself surrounded by the night of unbelief and irreligion, and yet he beholds streaks of sunny dawn. There are many things at which if he looked exclusively he would despair—materialism taught by popular teachers, atheism the creed of not a few, abounding luxury, sensuality defiling and degrading all classes of the community. But, looking beyond these, he sees evidences of Christian faith and hope such as the world never before witnessed—Sunday-schools, tract societies, home and foreign missions, various organisations for Christian labour, generously supported and efficiently maintained; and, as he looks, he feels that the morning draweth nigh.
II. When the Christian man looks into his own heart, he sees much that speaks of the night, but much also that tells of the coming morning.
III. The Christless man, as well as the Christian, may well ask, “What of the night?” He may relieve the gloom of his existence by a few sparks of transient merriment, but soon they will be all extinguished; and for him there will be no morning!—W. M. Statham: Christian World Pulpit, iii. 193.
Passing from the historical application of this oracle, we observe that it may be taken as setting forth the spirit of inquiry first raised in the soul by the hand of God, the form that inquiry will take, the answer it will receive, and the direction in which it will find ultimate satisfaction.
I. Thoughts on the spirit of religious inquiry. The picture before us is that of a walled city; the middle watch of the night, when the citizens are asleep. But one anxious spirit cannot sleep; he turns out into the dark, silent, deserted street, oppressed by a strange feeling that something is going to happen. He hears the heavy footfall of the watchman pacing to and fro on the city walls. With eagerness not to be repressed, he cries, “Watchman,” &c. This is symbolical; it has its counterparts in our own time.
1. This restless inquirer is the exception. The many sleep, only one wakes and inquires. The danger is common, but only one feels any apprehension of it. There are multitudes of sinners, few inquirers concerning the way of salvation.
2. The spirit of inquiry appears in an unexpected quarter. A man of Seir, an Edomite, lifts up eager questions; the men of Israel sleep. The old, old story. Many lepers in Israel: Naaman cleansed; ten healed, the Samaritan only returns to give thanks. The boldest ventures of faith were made by the Gentile centurion and the Syro-Phœnician woman. Those who pressed into the kingdom were not Scribes and Pharisees, but publicans and sinners. So it is still.
3. The inquiry was well directed. The appeal was not to the citizens who were asleep, but to the watchman who was awake. If you have questions to ask, ask of the man of quick perception, keen sensibility, high standing, broad and firm basis of hope in Christ. Not necessarily of the minister, but of the man who is spiritually wide-awake; he is the true watchman.
4. The inquiry was weighty. What of the night? Is it far spent? When will the day dawn? What of the foe? Are they quiet in their camp? Or are they endeavouring to surprise and capture the city? We have all cause to put questions of corresponding importance.
5. This inquiry was earnest. In some cases the inquiry is listless, is only a matter of compliment; or it is entered upon reluctantly, as an unpleasant duty. But this man is in earnest. He calls again and again. He will be heard; it is a matter of moment to him. He does not know what is about to happen; the watchman should know—placed high, outlook wide, senses trained. The inquirer will not submit to be disregarded. Oh, for more of this earnestness.
II. Thoughts on the answer.
1. The answer comes through the watchman. Human lips start inquiries, and through human lips the answer comes. One heart is filled with fear; another heart filled with faith must be its helper. Let those to whom the answer has been entrusted give it promptly, clearly, joyfully.
2. The answer declares God’s methods with men. God has two great methods: one has its image in the morning, the other in the night. Let morning set forth compassion, tender mercy, loving gifts; night, judgment, awful anger, heavy inflictions. If the morning be neglected or resisted, then the night will certainly fall upon you. Note the order in which these methods are employed. Morning, fresh, clear, dewy, bracing, beautiful, comes first. So in the history of the world, of the Church, of the individual. First the morning of youth! prize it highly, use it wisely. Upon the sinner comes first the morning of mercy, of invitation, of entreaty and promise. Alas that he should despise and neglect it!
2. But the night comes afterwards! True, the night of death comes to all, but there is an infinite distance between death in Christ and death out of Christ. He who dies in Christ, passes into the eternal day; he who dies out of Christ, is cast into “the outer darkness!”
“Inquire”—seek to know the way of salvation. “Return”—as the prodigal from the far country. “Come”—blessed word! “Come” penitently, believingly, NOW!—J. R. Wood.
“Night” is suggestive of anxious, perplexed, critical states; e.g., travellers in the desert, voyagers on the ocean, sufferers in the sick-chamber. Very naturally do we transfer such thoughts as these to our spiritual experiences (Psalms 130:1; Psalms 130:8). Our text may be taken as suggestive of the World’s Cry and the World’s Hope in all ages.
I. THE WORLD’S CRY. “What of the night?” This is—
1. The cry of a soul awakened to its guilt. The very purpose of conviction is to show the sinner his wandering, downward, benighted state. Hence the terror which first views of guilt usually cause. The flash which in the midnight hour shows the traveller the path of safety, also shows him the dreadful precipice which yawns at his feet. When the sinner is aroused from his sinful career, he is bewildered by the many voices of hope and fear, of warning and promise, which greet his ear; he is oppressed with anxiety to know how such a night of danger and heart-searching will end.
2. The cry of a soul struggling with its doubts. The night of mystery often burdens the hearts of true believers, as Job and David found when they struggled with the great problems of life. Life is a new thing to each of us, and many of the same problems perplex us still: e.g., the existence of moral evil, the infinite goodness of God, the truth of Divine revelation. These sometimes press upon us with unusual weight, and shroud us in thick darkness.
3. The cry of the Church in its hours of anxiety and peril. These have been frequent, and have been due to many causes: e.g., persecution from without, indifference within, general ungodliness and unholy living, tides of scepticism. The watchmen of the Church have to keep an earnest and anxious vigil when such nights as these settle upon her.
4. The cry of humanity itself. There are times when not merely a few men are oppressed by the burdens of their time, but when men in the mass become awake to them. The world betrays its keen sense of disease by the strong remedies it employs. Against wide-spread ignorance, it opposes vast educational schemes; for deep-rooted vices, it contrives various measures of reformation; under a sense of the terrible ravages of the war-spirit, it yearns for international peace. Nations, as well as individuals, have trying experiences of the terrors of social and moral night.
II. THE WORLD’S HOPE. “The morning cometh.” In the midst of all the world’s darkness we may cherish this blessed hope (H. E. I., 3421–3423). But whence is it derived? Solely from the fact that God in Christ is reconciling the world unto Himself. It is along the track of Divine revelation that we look for the bright rays of the morning. There is hope for our race because of what Christ is—the Revealer of God, the Saviour of sinners, the Head of the Church, the Restorer of humanity. The way, then, to help on the dawning of that day we all long to see, is to live in Him, to live for Him. Life derived from Him, and spent for Him, will be truly blessed in itself, and will be a means of blessing others.—William Manning.