“A voice says, “Cry!”
And I said, “What shall I cry?”
All flesh is grass,
And all its beauty is like the flower of the field.
The grass withers, the flower fades
When the breath of the LORD blows on it;
Surely the people are grass.
The grass withers, the flower fades,
But the word of our God will stand forever.
Isaiah 40:6-8
Every spring I watch our tulips push up through the dirt like a miracle. They raise their long, slender green necks, and bloom with petals of pink, red, fiery orange, and yellow. They encircle the big maple tree in our front yard like an army with raised banners. After our long, snowy winters, I’m captivated by the sight of them. My children and I kneel in the wet grass to admire their beauty, touch their soft petals and inhale their sweet fragrance. So fresh and alive.
Their beauty is stunning—but delicate. It doesn’t last. Our family now affectionately calls it, “Tulip Week,” because that’s about how long they live, before their colours fade, and their heads droop down. Without warning a heavy rain comes, a spring downpour pounds them all to pieces. Until just their petals lie on the ground, and their once tall stems are hunched over, like a beggar sprawled before a king.
A Fading Beauty
Theirs is a fleeting beauty. A fragile, fading, failing, falling beauty. And so is ours. There is only one beauty that will last. One beauty that is everlasting, unlike any other. It is the unfading, unfailing Word of God. And it will stand forever. It is on this beauty, on this Word where we stake all our hope.
A Surprising Comfort
The comfort given in Isaiah 40:6-7 is what I call a surprising comfort. Something that at first may not seem like a comfort, but very much is. Tucked into this chapter so full of the tender comfort of God, we find what may seem like a peculiar message. And yet, it is this message which gives unshakeable hope and stability to our lives.
It begins,
“A voice says, “Cry!”
And I said, “What shall I cry?”
(Isa. 40:6)
In typical Isaiah fashion there is this tension between urgency and suspense. The urgency, “A voice says “Cry!” and then the suspense, “What shall I cry?” There is almost an audible pause as we wait to hear the answer to this question. And it’s this:
“All flesh is grass,
And all its beauty is like the flower of the field.
The grass withers, the flower fades
When the breath of the LORD blows on it;
Surely the people are grass.”
(Isaiah 40:6-7)
Now, this is not one of those token verses you see embroidered on pillows, or printed inside greeting cards. If anything, “All flesh is grass,” could come across as offensive, inappropriate; even borderline rude. I wonder how Isaiah’s original audience would have received this message? Because as for our present culture, I cannot think of a message they would be more fiercely opposed to or downright offended by than this one, right here.
For our already anxious generation, these don’t sound like words of comfort, but of absolute terror. Terror from the realization that we, ourselves, are already fading away, and everything we are living for is not going to last. No matter how strong, beautiful, healthy, well-built, well-protected, or financially secure. Our flesh will not last. Indeed, it cannot. But here, in what seems a horrifying reality, is actually a very clarifying message. One that, if rightly understood, is altogether comforting.
Let me explain why.
Glory Like Grass
“All flesh is grass,” simply means that all humans, or people are something transient and fading away. Something that quickly springs us, and then withers. And all of our “beauty,” or glory is like “the flower of the field.”
Though it may sound poetic or romantic to be described as flowers of the field, Isaiah is not alluding to our beauty, but rather, our brevity. We are like fading, falling flowers. Grass that springs up and then withers. Our lives are, “a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes” (James 4:14).
Just a Breath
Take a deep breath. Every breath we take is from the Lord. His breath brings us to life. Sustains our life. But his breath, as Isaiah 40 reminds us, also is what makes us wither. Later in the chapter, Isaiah writes,
“Scarcely are they planted, scarcely sown,
scarcely has their stem taken root in the earth,
when he blows on them, and they wither,
and the tempest carries them off like stubble.” (Isa. 40:24)
The God who breathes us into being, also blows on us, and we wither. We are only here for a very little while. Perhaps you are wondering, “How, on earth, is this comforting?” I actually find this quite comforting. Let me explain why.
Because I live in a world, where I am told daily that my life, the very breath in my body is altogether dependent upon the choices I make, the foods I eat, the supplements I take, the materials I use, the exercise I do (or don’t do), the air I breathe, the water I drink, the container I drink out of (glass, or plastic), the sleep I get, or the things I do—is accumulating to whether I live or die, to whether I become diseased and decrepit, or healthy and strong. That’s what I’m told every day. But according to Scripture, specifically this one in Isaiah 40, I can see that this is actually false. (Or, “Hogwash,” as my mom used to say.)
Because in Scripture is a bigger reality. A better reality. In the God breathed word of God, I find a God who breathes his life into me. Who sustains me, breath by breath. One who also blows on me, and I wither. Does it comfort you at all to know that the dates stamped on your future gravestone aren’t determined by all your strenuous efforts? It comforts me. The burden of carrying my own life upon my back, has made me weary. And it is a burden that I was never meant to bear. It’s like carrying around a dead weight, a corpse. Oh, that we could like Bunyan, lift our eyes to the cross. And there see the One who poured out his life for us, that we might live. Truly live. Oh, that we might look to him, and the burden fall off our back, and tumble down the hill, and be gone forever.
Praise be to God.
All the Days
David wrote these precious words. And they were just as true for him, as they are for us,
“All the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.” (Psalm 139:16)
All the days.
It’s a sobering reality. But it’s also an immensely freeing one. And not only does it mean that I don’t have to live on kale smoothies for the rest of my days, but that I can actually let go of the fearful, gripping control, that I have to somehow save my life, or preserve my life, or somehow sustain it. God is the giver of life. And the sustainer of life.
Let this simple truth set you free. What keeps you alive is not your wisdom, nor your strength, nor your health, nor your wealth; what keeps you alive is the very breath of God. And what makes you die, what makes you wither, is also the breath of God. You are not the one holding yourself together. He is. You are not the one holding your life together. He is. Because, “he holds all things together” (Col. 1:17). Jesus said, “Therefore, I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?” (Matt. 7:25).
We were made for something far more than lasting that grass that withers and flowers that fall. We were made for the glory of God. And here in Isaiah 40, God is showing us something bigger, something better. Something more firm and lasting than all the other places where we are tempted to place our hope. He’s inviting us onto a Rock that will not crumble, a refuge that will not fall. A beauty that will not fade. He’s setting us free from all the distractions, and anxieties, and the sin that so easily entangles us. He’s essentially saying, “Everything you are chasing, you don’t need to be chasing. Everything you are trying to preserve, you don’t need to preserve. Because none of it will last. And none of it will save you. None of it will do what you think it will do. Only I can do that.”
God is inviting us here to step onto the most firm foundation on earth, indeed, the only firm foundation. One that will outlast the earth itself. It is the word of God. And it will last forever.
Where will you put your hope?
Fading or Forever
“The grass withers, the flower fades,
but the word of our God will stand forever.”
For people (like me) who are often anxious, and fearful, constantly worrying about my health, my safety, and my life—this is the most comforting news on earth. And it is: You were made to live for something far more lasting than withering grass and fading flowers. You were made for a God whose word will never fade away. Whose word will stand forever. The God who made us, “blows on us, and we wither.” It is an unchangeable reality. And it can drive us to one of two places: Either, we can cling and scrape, and hold onto everything we possibly can to try to hold onto our precious lives. Or, we can lay down our lives, and let them go because we actually believe the word of God is true.
We can believe Jesus when he says, “Anyone who tries to save his life will lose it. But whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” (Matt. 16:25)
Will find it.
Isn’t it good news, that contrary to what others may tell you, you don’t have to frantically try to preserve your life, but you can joyfully lay down your life, for his sake and in doing so find real life. Real joy. Real peace. And real rest. These only come from God. They do not come from long life. They do not come from “healthy” life. They do not come from a wealthy life. They come only from the Living God, who loved the world so much that he sent his only begotten Son, so that whoever believes in him, will not perish, but have eternal life (John 3:16). It is only him, that you can find life. Real life. And when you have found real life in Jesus Christ, you do not feel alarmed that “all flesh is grass,” or that you are only here for a little while. Rather, you will feel immense peace, from the same One who has promised you eternal life, has also secured it.
His word is sure.
For though men are transient and untrustworthy, though you yourself are transient and fading away with every passing breath, he is not. He is altogether lovely and his word endures forever. And of this we can be sure: everything he promised will absolutely happen down to every last dot and stroke. Jesus said, “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away.” (Matthew 24:35 NIV) As for beauty, it will pass away. As for buildings, they will crumble. As for the pride of man, it will be brought low. Every high thing will be brought crashing down. “And the LORD alone will be exalted in that day” (Isa. 2:17). A day is coming when all the glory of man will lie fallen, like petals on the ground. And all that will be left, is the beautiful, precious, perfect word of God.
Where else would we put our hope?
There is only one beauty that is everlasting, unlike any other. It is the unfading, unfailing word of God. It is on this beauty, we find an everlasting Rock under our feet. And it’s here, we stake all our hope. For,
“The grass withers, the flower fades,
But the word of our God will stand forever.”
(Isaiah 40:8)
It is here, and only here where we find our everlasting comfort. Our everlasting beauty. Our everlasting life.
