3.
_Wood-graver--he draws a line,_ _Marks it with pencil,_ _Makes it with planes,_ _And with compasses marks it._ _So has made it the build of a man,_ _To a grace that is human--_ _To inhabit a house, cutting it cedars._[89]
4.
_Or one takes an ilex or oak,_ _And picks for himself from the trees of the wood;_ _One has planted a pine, and the rain makes it big,_ _And 'tis there for a man to burn._ _And one has taken of it, and been warmed;_ _Yea, kindles and bakes bread,--_ _Yea, works out a god, and has worshipped it!_ _Has made it an idol, and bows down before it!_ _Part of it burns he with fire,_ _Upon part eats flesh,_ _Roasts roast and is full;_ _Yea, warms him and saith,_ _"Aha, I am warm, have seen fire!"_ _And the rest of it--to a god he has made--to his image!_ _He bows to it, worships it, prays to it,_ _And says, "Save me, for my god art thou!"_
5.
_They know not and deem not!_ _For He hath bedaubed, past seeing, their eyes,_ _Past thinking, their hearts._ _And none takes to heart, Neither has knowledge nor sense to say,_ _"Part of it burned I in fire--_ _Yea, have baked bread on its coals,_ _Do roast flesh that I eat,--_ _And the rest o't, to a Disgust should I make it?_ _The trunk of a tree should I worship?"_ _Herder of ashes,_[90] _a duped heart has sent him astray,_ _That he cannot deliver his soul, neither say,_ _"Is there not a lie in my right hand?"_
Is not the prevailing note in these verses surprise at the mental condition of an idol-worshipper? _They see not and know not_ enough _to feel shame. None takes it to heart, neither has knowledge nor sense to say, Part of it I have burned in fire ... and the rest, should I make it a god?_ This intellectual confidence, breaking out into scorn, is the second great token of truth, which distinguishes the religion of this poor slave of a people.
3. The third token is its moral character. The intellectual truth of a religion would go for little, had the religion nothing to say to man's moral sense--did it not concern itself with his sins, had it no redemption for his guilt. Now, the chapters before us are full of judgement and mercy. If they have scorn for the idols, they have doom for sin, and grace for the sinner. They are no mere political manifesto for the occasion, declaring how Israel shall be liberated from Babylon. They are a gospel for sinners in all time. By this they farther accredit themselves as a universal religion.
God is omnipotent, yet He can do nothing for Israel till Israel put away their sins. Those sins, and not the people's captivity, are the Deity's chief concern. Sin has been at the bottom of their whole adversity. This is brought out with all the versatility of conscience itself. Israel and their God have been at variance; their sin has been, what conscience feels the most, a sin against love. _Yet not upon Me hast thou called, O Jacob; how hast thou been wearied with Me, O Israel.... I have not made thee to slave with offerings, nor wearied thee with incense ... but thou hast made Me to slave with thy sins, thou hast wearied Me with thine iniquities_ (xliii. 22-24). So God sets their sins, where men most see the blackness of their guilt, in the face of His love. And now He challenges conscience. _Put Me in remembrance; let us come to judgement together; indict, that thou mayest be justified_ (ver. 26). But it had been agelong and original sin. _Thy father, the first had sinned; yea, thy representative men_--literally _interpreters, mediators--had transgressed against Me. Therefore did I profane consecrated princes, and gave Jacob to the ban, and Israel to reviling_ (vv. 27, 28). The Exile itself was but an episode in a tragedy, which began far back with Israel's history. And so ch. xlviii. repeats: _I knew that thou dost deal very treacherously, and Transgressor-from-the-womb do they call thee_ (ver. 8). And then there comes the sad note of what might have been. _O that thou hadst hearkened to My commandments! then had thy peace been as the river, and thy righteousness as the waves of the sea_ (ver. 18). As broad Euphrates thou shouldst have lavishly rolled, and flashed to the sun like a summer sea. But now, hear what is left. _There is no peace, saith Jehovah, to the wicked_ (ver. 22).