Isaiah 1-39

Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching

Christopher R. Seitz

• Publisher: Westminster John Knox Press
• Year: 2011
• ISBN:
  9781611649291
• Topic: Théologie et religion
• Subtopic: Commentaire biblique

This unique commentary allows the interpretation of Isaiah 1-39 to be guided by the final form of the book. It focuses on the theological aspect of the book of Isaiah, giving special attention to the role of literary context. Christopher Seitz explores structural and organizational concerns as clues to the editorial intention of the final form of the material, which he argues is both intelligible and an intended result of the efforts of those who gave shape to the present form of the book.

Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching is a distinctive resource for those who interpret the Bible in the church. Planned and written specifically for teaching and preaching needs, this critically acclaimed biblical commentary is a major contribution to scholarship and ministry.

PART ONE

The Presentation of Isaiah: Word and Prophet

ISAIAH 1–12

Overview

Before examining individual passages and commenting upon them, we will first look at the broader structural organization of larger sections in Isaiah, beginning with chapters 1–12. We will follow a similar procedure with other major sections in the book (chaps. 13–23; 24–27; 28–35; and 36–39). Recently much interest has been shown in the unity of the Book of Isaiah. We are interested in a related question: Does the text in its present organization provide clues for the exegesis of individual passages? This is more a question of simple coherence than one of unity. Is the text in its present shape meaningful? Is the text’s coherence to be sought primarily on the basis of historical reconstruction, whereby an individual pericope is placed within a setting in past history and then related to the present; or can an individual text be illumined by attention to the broader context in which it is found? As we shall see, if the answer to this last question is positive, then we have our work cut out for us. For if the larger structure of the text manifests a coherence extending beyond individual passages, read against a reconstructed historical backdrop, then that coherence is also quite elusive and requires a careful reading to be properly appreciated.

Introduction

It has often struck me as unfortunate that those who put the final touches on the biblical books did not supply us with a key as to how they were to be read: a kind of preface or instruction sheet, as it were. Presumably the final editors were also the first readers. The only keys available, however, have been supplied after the fact, in the form of midrash, New Testament interpretations, or in the ancient and modern commentary tradition. These various aids are of course based on clues provided in the text itself, though also with strong external principles that encourage certain types of reading (pedagogical; legal; christological; historical). At the same time, it is probably also of significance that such keys or instruction sheets have not been supplied within the presentation of the books themselves, in such an explicit sense. Apparently they were not seen as necessary for at least some portion of readership.

In the recent period one principal guide to interpretation has been based on a biographical model. This has been particularly true for the prophetic books. The interpreter seeks to understand the person of the prophet, the times in which he lived, and the end to which his prophetic activity was directed. The theological justification for this is clear: the prophets were inspired persons, and the closer one gets to the person of the prophet, the closer one stands to the revelation vouchsafed to him.

It became a commonplace in the last century to nuance this view of prophetic inspiration considerably in order to allow for the inspired activity of other forces at work in the making of a prophetic book. Due allowance was made for the derivative and at times contradictory nature of secondary inspiration, but on the whole this broader view of prophecy and prophetic books gained acceptance, in no small part because it seemed to be based directly on the evidence of prophetic books themselves. At several points we are able to glimpse in the biblical text clues as to how the original words of the prophet were transformed and reshaped—a process itself based on the conviction that the prophetic word had a vitality and relevance that outlived its own originating circumstances. A classic text in this regard is Jeremiah 36. The prophet’s preaching is committed to writing, with the assistance of Baruch; after it is arrogantly destroyed by King Jehoiakim, the scroll is reconstituted by Baruch. Then we are told that “many similar words were added” to the words of the prophet Jeremiah (Jer. 36:32). So too the Book of Isaiah makes reference to the process of inspiration and the afterlife of the prophetic word, beyond the circumstances of its delivery (8:16–22; 29:11–12; 30:8). Unfortunately these various references in the prophetic books are random and, taken together, hardly form a comprehensive picture.

Prophetic Agency

It is no accident that in the Introduction a section on the life of the prophet was not provided. This is not because such a life, at least in some cursory form, is incapable of reconstruction from the Book of Isaiah itself; the evidence of commentary writing in this century clearly contradicts such an assertion. Rather, its omission is meant to signal the kind of proportion that interest in the person of the prophet is given by the Book of Isaiah itself. What does it mean, for example, that the book does not open with a call narrative of the prophet Isaiah? Instead, the reader must wait until the sixth chapter for the prophet to step boldly into view, and even here it is not clear that the chapter should be designated a call narrative in the same sense in which the opening chapters of Hosea, Jeremiah, or Ezekiel function.

In an intriguing study entitled Pseudonymity and Canon, David Meade has argued persuasively that matters of authorship, inspiration, and proprietary claim to “copyright” were handled much differently in antiquity than we might expect. The prophetic word was always at one remove from the prophet who uttered it; instead, it remained the “spiritual possession” of the one who inspired it, namely, Israel’s God. As such it was capable of extension and reapplication, consistent with its own inherent authority and independence. Meade uses the Book of Isaiah as a classic example of this phenomenon, thus explaining in part how the massive extension of the message of Isaiah was accomplished and how the theological justification for “later additions” functioned. As noted above, this notion of the independent authority of the word of God is especially prominent in the Isaiah tradition (see the reference to the divine word going forth to “accomplish that which I purpose” at Isa. 55:11).

One might say that Meade has chosen the best example in the Book of Isaiah for his thesis. Other contrasting notions of the centrality of prophetic agency can be seen in the prophetic corpus. The Book of Jeremiah, for example, has developed into its present form with an explicit interest in the prophetic persona; one thinks of the laments of Jeremiah, the “biographical” narratives found especially in chapters 37–45, the figure of Baruch, the genuine interest in dates and specific events in history. Ezekiel and Hosea also come to mind, if not also Amos. In these books the final editors are clearly concerned with the biographical and the sociohistorical reality of prophetic agency in a way that can be contrasted with what we see in the Book of Isaiah.

This is not to say that the figure of Isaiah plays no role whatsoever. Peter Ackroyd has probed this dimension of the Isaiah tradition, specifically in chapters 1–12, in his essay “Isaiah I—XII: Presentation of a Prophet.” The allusion to his essay in the title of this section is not accidental; neither is the slight modification we have proposed. Ackroyd is not so much interested in the historical prophet, even as “the Isaiah of that historic period … stands behind the message” (p. 45); rather, he is interested in the prophet as he has been presented to us: “Whether the prophet himself or his exegetes were responsible, the prophet appears to us as a man of judgement and salvation” (p. 45).

We will have occasion to look more closely at Ackroyd’s actual reconstruction of the presentation of Isaiah in due course. What is of more interest at this juncture is the point that both Ackroyd and Meade wish to make about the presentation of the prophet specifically in the Book of Isaiah. Isaiah is less a prophet who presents himself to us than he is a prophet who has been presented by others to us. Prophetic agency in delivering the word of God is less central than the word of God itself and that word’s own presentation of the prophet Isaiah. Here we may also find an explanation of why the book does not open with a call narrative of the prophet.

Isaiah 1–4: The Presentation of Word and Prophet

It would be more accurate to talk about Isaiah 1–12, the opening section of the Book of Isaiah, as concerned with the presentation of Isaiah’s word as well as his person. This is made clear in the opening four chapters. We mentioned in the Introduction several sticking points that frustrate a clear interpretation of the structure of these opening twelve chapters: (1) two superscriptions (1:1; 2:1); (2) delayed call narrative (chap. 6); (3) interruption of two series of refrains (woe: 5:8,11,18, 20, 21, 22; 10:1; outstretched hand: 5:25; 9:12, 17, 21; 10:4); and (4) Isa. 2:1–4 paralleled in Micah 4:1–4. Other structural problems could be mentioned as well.

When one moves to the area of content and interpretation, these problems are compounded: Are all three children the prophet’s (7:3; 7:14; 8:1–4)? Are the sign names positive or negative? Are the messianic oracles (9:1–7; 11:1–9) directed to historical or eschatological figures? Are they birth or accession oracles? Trying to assign oracles in these opening twelve chapters to specific historical periods is a daunting task, with practically every period having been suggested for the material in chapters 1–4 alone. If one considers it likely that Isaiah’s historical preaching has been placed in a new framework of interpretation, then the historical problem is not so much solved as relativized. New questions arise. How are we to interpret even a secondary presentation of the prophet’s word and person?

I will make the following provisional suggestions, aware that they are proposals only and ones that follow from a certain working perspective on the Book of Isaiah. In this perspective, the prophet’s word and person have been abstracted from straightforward historical presentation (namely, the chronological unfolding of the prophet’s career) and have been placed in another framework meaningful to later readers and interpreters. The opening chapter is not so much an overture of the contents of the Book of Isaiah in its entirety as it is a summary recapitulation of Isaiah’s vision relevant to the period mentioned at 1:1. Indeed, with the only clearly “historical” reference occurring at 1:7–9, concerning Zion’s besieged but surviving existence, it is difficult to avoid the impression that the opening chapter summarizes Isaiah’s preaching from the perspective of the 701 B.C. deliverance—or better, from a penitential perspective following upon that deliverance. That is, the opening chapter directs us just beyond the latest period of the historical Isaiah’s preaching, such as can be found now in chapters 36–39.

The superscription at 2:1 attributes the oracle that follows (2:2–4) to the prophet Isaiah (so Ackroyd) and in so doing insists that Isaiah’s message was one of ultimate salvation and the worship of the nations (2:1–5) as well as one essentially of judgment and exhortation (1:1–31). A statement is not so much being made about the Isaianic authorship of 2:2–5, as, say, against Micah authorship (contra Ackroyd), as there is a concern to spell out the widest range for Isaiah’s preaching from the perspective of those shaping his message for posterity. In sum, we are arguing that the superscriptions found in 1:1 and 2:1 pertain to the material that follows them and specifically to that material. On the other hand, because 1:2–31 offers a summarizing statement of the prophet Isaiah’s message in the form of a comprehensive vision, 1:1 also functions as a superscription for the entire book. What 1:1 states, however, is less a matter of authorship or proprietary claims made on behalf of Isaiah than it is a statement of belief, made on the part of those who shaped the Isaiah traditions, that what followed was a faithful rendering of the essence of Isaiah’s preaching as vouchsafed to him by God.

The distinction is subtle, but it allows for the extension of Isaiah’s message into the present textualized form, at the same time acknowledging important theological realities concerning continuity with Isaiah’s preaching and the faithful representation of the word of God. Did Isaiah actually deliver the speech recorded in 1:2–31? This is impossible to determine with historical tools alone, standing outside the book’s own presentation. Does the book present Isaiah as having delivered 1:2–31? Yes, though not with all the notions attending authorship and “copyright” familiar in the modern period. Here the observations of Meade are telling. The “vision” of chapter 1 remains the normative entry point for the Book of Isaiah, and because it is represented as a divine word (1:2), it also stands over the prophet Isaiah. It is not his “spiritual possession” but a divine word summarizing his historical preaching. We would also argue that it is meant to summarize that preaching from a very specific vantage point, namely, following the deliverance of Jerusalem in 701 B.C. See more on this below.

The next major section of Isaiah (2:6–4:6) is held together by the refrain “in that day” and a perspective directed toward the future. In the latter sense it shares something of the same perspective of 2:1–5. However, only the closing section (4:1–6) recapitulates the tone and content of 2:1–5; the rest of this complex is concerned with a coming day that will lay bare the sins of Judah and Jerusalem, and where the nation will encounter the terrifying glory of the Lord. The opening four chapters, then, present the divine word as a sort of “chiaroscuro by which the prospect of the future is set out against the background of failure and doom” (Ackroyd, “Presentation,” p. 45). The future will be marked by salvation only after a cleansing “by a spirit of judgment and by a spirit of burning” (4:4). A vision for the future is set forth using a recapitulation of the prophet’s historical preaching, based on the latest period of his activity (1:2–31). Marvin Sweeney has summarized the message of chapters 2–4 as concerned with “the cleansing and restoration of Jerusalem and Judah so that Zion can serve as YHWH’s capital for ruling the entire world” (Sweeney, Isaiah 1—4, p. 134). This broader editorial perspective is based on a recapitulation of Isaiah’s preaching during the reign of four Judahite kings, but it also ranges far beyond that preaching. This is the perspective that confronts the reader not just of First Isaiah but also of the wider book of sixty-six chapters. It is telling that the presentation of Isaiah 1–12 begins with a presentation of the prophet’s word rather than with a presentation of the prophet as such. For that, we must wait until chapter 6.

Isaiah 5:1–30

Apart from the usual historical-critical argumentation, one can also detect several strong contextual reasons for interpreting chapter 5 as the historical proclamation of Isaiah, if not also the starting point of that proclamation in the presentation of chapters 1–12. In chapters 1–4 the focus remains on Judah and Jerusalem (1:1; 2:1; 3:1, 8) or Zion and Jerusalem (2:3; 3:16, 17; 4:3–6), a perspective that makes particular historical sense not just during the exile or in the postexilic period (Sweeney) but also following the fall of Israel in 721 B.C. The image of the vineyard is introduced in 1:8, yet it is a vineyard in which Zion alone remains “like a booth in a vineyard, like a shelter in a cucumber field, like a besieged city.” So we stand somewhere after both the fall of the Northern Kingdom and the 701 assault on Judah and Jerusalem.

In the Song of the Vineyard, with which chapter 5 opens (5:1–7), the fate of the vineyard still hangs in the balance, even as a final decision of judgment is rendered (5:5–6). Explicit reference is made to the house of Israel as “the vineyard of the LORD of hosts” (5:7) and Judah, perhaps more narrowly, as “his pleasant planting.” The “in that day” perspective of chapters 2–4 gives way to present indictment, as the woe refrain already mentioned is taken up (5:8, 11, 18, 20, 21, 22).

Is it possible to date the material more specifically? Several factors taken together suggest that chapter 5 was intended to be read as pre-Uzziah-period proclamation, with a specific focus on the Northern Kingdom. Again it is helpful to examine the historical perspective, not of modern reconstruction, but of Israel’s own records, namely, those found in II Kings.

Prior to any mention of the death of Uzziah (II Kings 15:32), we hear of Tiglath-pileser annexing portions of the Northern Kingdom and carrying their population “captive to Assyria” (II Kings 15:29). This occurs during the reign of Pekah king of Israel. Reference to the Syro-Ephraimite pact between Pekah and Rezin, and the assault on Jerusalem (Isaiah 7–8), does not appear until II Kings 16:5. Here, then, we find confirmation of the specific reference to exile given at Isa. 5:13 and the wider description of judgment. In very broad terms, the presentation of Isaiah at this juncture conforms to the perspective of the Deuteronomistic History. That the fate of the Northern Kingdom was meant to be a warning to Judah/Jerusalem is a theme shared again by that History (II Kings 17) and the Book of Isaiah (Isa. 10:10–11). Also held in common is the notion of a gradual assault by God on the sinful Israel, beginning with the Northern Kingdom, then extending to Judah, and finally culminating at Zion’s neck (II Kings 17:18–23). Here we find an explanation of why the theme of the outstretched hand (5:25) is introduced prior to chapter 6, separated from identical references after chapter 8. God raised a signal for Assyria (5:26–30) before the Syro-Ephraimite debacle and before Isaiah’s specific commissioning “in the year that King Uzziah died.” His anger was first turned against the Northern Kingdom. And it is stretched out still (5:25).

Isaiah 6:1–9:7

Attempts have been made since the time of Karl Budde (1928), or Bernhard Duhm before him (1892), to see within these chapters elements of a first-person memoir going back to the prophet himself. If such a memoir once existed, it has been all but obliterated in the final presentation of the material. First-person elements are now “very spasmodic and partial” (Clements, “Immanuel,” p. 227), and the function of the chapters in their present form is now far removed from that of a memoir. Even the notion that chapter 6 represents a call narrative of Is...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half-title Page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Series Preface
• Contents
• Foreword
• Acknowledgments
• Introduction
• Part One: The Presentation of Isaiah: Word and Prophet Isaiah 1–12
• Part Two: God of Israel, God of the Nations Isaiah 13–27
• Part Three: A King Will Reign in Righteousness Isaiah 28–39
• Bibliography