17 Rouse yourself! Rouse yourself! Arise, O Jerusalem,
You who have drunk from the Lord’s hand the cup of His anger;
The [h]chalice of reeling you have [i]drained to the dregs.
18 There is none to guide her among all the sons she has borne,
Nor is there one to take her by the hand among all the sons she has reared.
19 These two things have befallen you;
Who will mourn for you?
The devastation and destruction, famine and sword;
How shall I comfort you?
20 Your sons have fainted,
They lie helpless at the head of every street,
Like an antelope in a net,
Full of the wrath of the Lord,
The rebuke of your God.21 Therefore, please hear this, you afflicted,
Who are drunk, but not with wine:
22 Thus says your Lord, the Lord, even your God
Who contends for His people,
“Behold, I have taken out of your hand the cup of reeling,
The [j]chalice of My anger;
You will never drink it again.
23 “I will put it into the hand of your tormentors,
Who have said to [k]you, ‘Lie down that we may walk over you.’
You have even made your back like the ground
And like the street for those who walk over it.”
The end of this chapter doesn’t paint a very pretty picture. It does give Israel some hope for the future, but still ends on a sad note, as all of this was still to come. That is, both of these were in the future: “made your back… like the street for those who walk over it” and “I have taken out of your hand… the cup of My anger.” In all of it, the one italicized word is very fitting: helpless.
God asks Jerusalem, “How shall I comfort you?” For there was no one left that wasn’t also helpless. They could commiserate in their downtrodden state, but that was about the extent of their “help”. Yet even in all of this, God points them to Himself once more. In v. 22, we see “Thus says your Lord, the Lord, even your God, who contends for His people…”
So it is for us, that God has given us many promises. We may very well feel helpless, and sometimes we must come to that to have any chance of letting God step in. Oh, He’d step in sooner if we would put away our foolish and stubborn pride. But God doesn’t usually step in where He isn’t invited. Maybe He has, but without our free will, there isn’t any chance for real love on our part.
Anyway, back on track, we may even feel like the Israelites in v. 23, which is literally what “downtrodden” means. Only One can bring us back from that low state, and God did it by making Himself just as low–likely lower than any of us has ever been. If anyone knows your pain, and could commiserate, it would be Jesus.
Yet He doesn’t stop there, He didn’t just come to join in our pity party. Jesus came to end it, forever (v. 22). Not by telling us to tough it out, or pull ourselves up by the bootstraps–which I’m told is impossible. Rather, Jesus came to lift us up out of the pit once and forever, and for all–me, you, the guy down the street who swears at everything, or the one who drowns his sorrows in drink. Maybe that’s you, could have been me, but God steps in when we admit our helplessness and cry out, “Help!”
Don’t let your ego get in the way, not this time, not when God is standing by, ready to take away the chalice you’ve been draining. Ask God to rescue you and make you His own, His child, today, tomorrow, and for as long as you have breath in your lungs. Lean on His everlasting arms, find “strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow”.