Isaiah 32:12

12 Shed honest tears for the lost harvest, the failed vintage.

Isaiah 32:12 Meaning and Commentary

Isaiah 32:12

They shall lament for the teats
Either of the beasts of the field, that should be dried up, and give no milk, through the great drought that should be upon the land; or through the waste of the herbage by the enemy; or else of the women, their breasts and paps, which should afford no milk for their infants, through the famine that should press them sore, which would occasion great lamentation, both in mothers and children; though some think are to be understood of the fields, and are explained by them in the next clause; the fruitful earth being compared to a woman, its fields are like breasts or paps, which yield food and nourishment, but now should not afford any, and therefore there would be cause of lamentation. Jarchi interprets it, "they shall beat upon their breasts" F13 a gesture used in lamentation to express exceeding great grief and sorrow, ( Luke 18:13 ) ( 23:48 ) some, because the word rendered "lament" is of the masculine gender, and so not applicable to women, render the words in connection with the preceding verse ( Isaiah 32:11 ) thus,

``gird sackcloth on your loins, and on your mourning breasts'' F14;
though they may be interpreted indefinitely, "there shall be lamentation for the teats", among all sorts of people, men, women, and children: for the pleasant fields, for the fruitful vine;
as the fields are when covered with corn and grass, and the vines with clusters of grapes, but now should not be, either through drought, or by being foraged and trampled on by the enemy.
FOOTNOTES:

F13 So it is explained in T. Bab. Moed Katon, fol. 27. 2.
F14 So Castalio.

Isaiah 32:12 In-Context

10 In just a little over a year from now, you'll be shaken out of your lazy lives. The grape harvest will fail, and there'll be no fruit on the trees.
11 Oh tremble, you indolent women. Get serious, you pampered dolls! Strip down and discard your silk fineries. Put on funeral clothes.
12 Shed honest tears for the lost harvest, the failed vintage.
13 Weep for my people's gardens and farms that grow nothing but thistles and thornbushes. Cry tears, real tears, for the happy homes no longer happy, the merry city no longer merry.
14 The royal palace is deserted, the bustling city quiet as a morgue, The emptied parks and playgrounds taken over by wild animals, delighted with their new home.
Published by permission. Originally published by NavPress in English as THE MESSAGE: The Bible in Contemporary Language copyright 2002 by Eugene Peterson. All rights reserved.