Note: Words are shown in their original Hebrew order, which differs from English translations. This reflects the emphasis and structure of Scripture as originally written. Click any word to see its full lexicon entry.
1Surely the arm of the LORD is not too short to save, nor His ear too dull to hear.
4No one calls for justice; no one pleads his case honestly. They rely on empty pleas; they tell lies; they conceive mischief and give birth to iniquity.
6Their cobwebs cannot be made into clothing, and they cannot cover themselves with their works. Their deeds are sinful deeds, and acts of violence are in their hands.
8The way of peace they have not known, and there is no justice in their tracks. They have turned them into crooked paths; no one who treads on them will know peace.
9Therefore justice is far from us, and righteousness does not reach us. We hope for light, but there is darkness; for brightness, but we walk in gloom.
10Like the blind, we feel our way along the wall, groping like those without eyes. We stumble at midday as in the twilight; among the vigorous we are like the dead.
12For our transgressions are multiplied before You, and our sins testify against us. Our transgressions are indeed with us, and we know our iniquities:
16He saw that there was no man; He was amazed that there was no one to intercede. So His own arm brought salvation, and His own righteousness sustained Him.
17He put on righteousness like a breastplate, and the helmet of salvation on His head; He put on garments of vengeance and wrapped Himself in a cloak of zeal.
19So shall they fear the name of the LORD where the sun sets, and His glory where it rises. For He will come like a raging flood, driven by the breath of the LORD.
21“As for Me, this is My covenant with them,” says the LORD. “My Spirit will not depart from you, and My words that I have put in your mouth will not depart from your mouth or from the mouths of your children and grandchildren, from now on and forevermore,” says the LORD.
Isaiah 59 presents a stark portrait of human sin and divine judgment, followed by a promise of redemption through God's intervention. The chapter opens by assuring Israel that God's power to save has not diminished, but rather their own sins have created a barrier between them and their Holy God. Through vivid imagery of corruption, violence, and moral decay, Isaiah indicts the entire society. Yet the chapter pivots dramatically at verse 16, where God Himself rises up as an intercessor and deliverer, ultimately promising a Redeemer who will come to Zion and establish an everlasting covenant of grace.
Isaiah begins by refuting a dangerous lie: that God is too weak or unwilling to save His people. God's hand is not shortened (v. 1)—He has not lost power. His ear is not heavy—He still hears prayer. The problem, however, is not God's inability but humanity's sin. Verse 2 reveals the true barrier: iniquities have separated us from God, and sins have hidden His face. This is profoundly important theology: God does not withdraw His love capriciously, but sin itself creates distance between the holy God and sinful people. Sin has real consequences—it disrupts relationship with our Creator.
Isaiah uses visceral, almost repulsive language to describe the depth of societal sin. Hands are defiled with blood (v. 3), lips speak lies, and the tongue mutters perverseness. No one calls for justice or pleads for truth (v. 4). The imagery intensifies: they hatch cockatrice eggs and weave spider's webs (v. 5)—their schemes are dangerous and ultimately futile. Their works cannot clothe them or provide security; instead, violence marks their hands (v. 6). Their feet run eagerly toward evil and innocent bloodshed (v. 7), and they have abandoned the way of peace entirely (v. 8). This is not merely individual sin but systemic, institutional corruption throughout society.
The people themselves now speak, confessing the fruit of their rebellion. They wait for light but find obscurity (v. 9); they grope like blind people at noonday (v. 10). Their lament is poignant: they look for judgment and salvation, but both seem distant (v. 11). Yet in verses 12–13, there is a turning point—a confession. They acknowledge their transgressions are multiplied, their sins testify against them, and they know their iniquities. Verse 15 presents a haunting paradox: truth has failed, and whoever turns from evil becomes prey to others. Righteousness offers no earthly advantage; instead, it invites persecution. This grieves the Lord (v. 15).
Here the chapter transforms. God sees that no man will be an intercessor, so He Himself becomes the Savior (v. 16). He dons armor—righteousness as a breastplate, salvation as a helmet, vengeance as clothing, zeal as a cloak (v. 17). He will repay His enemies according to their deeds (v. 18). Yet verse 19 promises that fear and glory of the LORD will spread from west to east; when the enemy floods in, the Spirit lifts a standard against him. Most beautifully, verse 20 announces: The Redeemer shall come to Zion—a direct messianic promise fulfilled in Jesus Christ. Verses 20–21 conclude with an eternal covenant: God's Spirit and words will remain upon the redeemed and their descendants forever.
Application for Today
Isaiah 59 diagnoses our condition and announces our cure. We cannot save ourselves through moral effort; systemic sin requires divine intervention. When you face the weight of personal or societal guilt, remember: God has not lost power, and the Redeemer has come. Through faith in Christ, the barrier is removed, His righteousness becomes ours, and His Spirit dwells within us eternally. This is the gospel.
Study Notes — Isaiah 59
5 sectionsIsaiah 59 presents a stark portrait of human sin and divine judgment, followed by a promise of redemption through God's intervention. The chapter opens by assuring Israel that God's power to save has not diminished, but rather their own sins have created a barrier between them and their Holy God. Through vivid imagery of corruption, violence, and moral decay, Isaiah indicts the entire society. Yet the chapter pivots dramatically at verse 16, where God Himself rises up as an intercessor and deliverer, ultimately promising a Redeemer who will come to Zion and establish an everlasting covenant of grace.
Isaiah begins by refuting a dangerous lie: that God is too weak or unwilling to save His people. God's hand is not shortened (v. 1)—He has not lost power. His ear is not heavy—He still hears prayer. The problem, however, is not God's inability but humanity's sin. Verse 2 reveals the true barrier: iniquities have separated us from God, and sins have hidden His face. This is profoundly important theology: God does not withdraw His love capriciously, but sin itself creates distance between the holy God and sinful people. Sin has real consequences—it disrupts relationship with our Creator.
Isaiah uses visceral, almost repulsive language to describe the depth of societal sin. Hands are defiled with blood (v. 3), lips speak lies, and the tongue mutters perverseness. No one calls for justice or pleads for truth (v. 4). The imagery intensifies: they hatch cockatrice eggs and weave spider's webs (v. 5)—their schemes are dangerous and ultimately futile. Their works cannot clothe them or provide security; instead, violence marks their hands (v. 6). Their feet run eagerly toward evil and innocent bloodshed (v. 7), and they have abandoned the way of peace entirely (v. 8). This is not merely individual sin but systemic, institutional corruption throughout society.
The people themselves now speak, confessing the fruit of their rebellion. They wait for light but find obscurity (v. 9); they grope like blind people at noonday (v. 10). Their lament is poignant: they look for judgment and salvation, but both seem distant (v. 11). Yet in verses 12–13, there is a turning point—a confession. They acknowledge their transgressions are multiplied, their sins testify against them, and they know their iniquities. Verse 15 presents a haunting paradox: truth has failed, and whoever turns from evil becomes prey to others. Righteousness offers no earthly advantage; instead, it invites persecution. This grieves the Lord (v. 15).
Here the chapter transforms. God sees that no man will be an intercessor, so He Himself becomes the Savior (v. 16). He dons armor—righteousness as a breastplate, salvation as a helmet, vengeance as clothing, zeal as a cloak (v. 17). He will repay His enemies according to their deeds (v. 18). Yet verse 19 promises that fear and glory of the LORD will spread from west to east; when the enemy floods in, the Spirit lifts a standard against him. Most beautifully, verse 20 announces: The Redeemer shall come to Zion—a direct messianic promise fulfilled in Jesus Christ. Verses 20–21 conclude with an eternal covenant: God's Spirit and words will remain upon the redeemed and their descendants forever.
Isaiah 59 diagnoses our condition and announces our cure. We cannot save ourselves through moral effort; systemic sin requires divine intervention. When you face the weight of personal or societal guilt, remember: God has not lost power, and the Redeemer has come. Through faith in Christ, the barrier is removed, His righteousness becomes ours, and His Spirit dwells within us eternally. This is the gospel.