Isaiah 32:13

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.

Isaiah 32:13 Meaning and Commentary

Isaiah 32:13

Upon the land of my people shall come up thorns [and]
briers
The curse of the earth, the spontaneous productions of it, being uncultivated, and this through want of men, they being destroyed or carried captive by the enemy; this is to be understood of the land of Judea, and not Samaria, as Aben Ezra; where the professing and covenant people of God dwelt; which is mentioned to show the apostasy of this people, for which ruin came upon their land, and the aggravation of it, as well as the goodness of God to them, which continued to the last, still considering them as his people. This respects not the desolation of the country by the Assyrian army, nor by the Chaldeans, but rather by the Romans, even their last destruction:

yea, upon all the houses of joy [in] the joyous city;
not Samaria, the head of the ten tribes, as some; but Jerusalem, the joy of the whole earth, as Jarchi; and the "houses of joy" in it mean not public houses, as taverns, and the like, where persons meet to revel and carouse, but the houses of nobles, princes, and rich men, who lived voluptuously, in great sensuality and carnal mirth, drinking wine in bowls, and chanting to the sound of the viol, and using all instruments of music; but now their houses, in which they enjoyed so much pleasure, should be demolished, and briers and thorns should grow upon the spot where they stood. Some render the word (yk) , "burning", as in ( Isaiah 3:24 ) "burning shall be on all the houses" F15; and think it refers to the burning of the city of Jerusalem, and the palaces or houses of nobles and rich men in it, which was done both by the Chaldeans and by the Romans.


FOOTNOTES:

F15 Junius & Tremellius, Cocceius.

Isaiah 32:13 In-Context

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.
15 Yes, weep and grieve until the Spirit is poured down on us from above And the badlands desert grows crops and the fertile fields become forests.
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.