No Room for Post-Millennialist Optimism: Considering the Saints and the City of Chaos in Isaiah 24–27

Christians today join the saints before them in searching the Bible to understand what exactly God promises us about the Last Days. No shortage of speculation exists, and it would be hard to overstate the impact eschatology has had on Christian life as believers navigate the spaces of politics and culture. As Christians long for the Second Coming of Christ, concern has centered around what this final appearance of Christ will look like. Will he come and consummate a world that has been completely reclaimed—states and souls alike—by the church? Does his return hinge upon the efforts of his people to conquer the kingdoms of this earth in his name? Or can we expect the bad to get worse, for the kingdoms of this world to flourish in the darkness? Will this pilgrimage as strangers in a strange land continue to be the norm for believers before our Lord comes again and defeats, at last, the final enemy once and for all? Though cloaked in imagery that seems foreign to modern readers and separated from us by thousands of years, the words of Isaiah and Paul are especially helpful in understanding what Scripture tells us about the Last Days—and in what Christians should put their hope. It’s not for the faint of heart, not for those optimistic that Christendom can create a flourishing earthly city that will usher in the kingdom of God. But the hope is there, for final judgment and justice and the coming kingdom, for death conquered at last—it’s simply anchored in something greater than human effort.

The City and the Mountain

First, a broader framing is in order. Isaiah 24–27 is often pointed to as apocalyptic writings that both unveil Isaiah’s vision of the Last Days and anchor much of the other imagery that appears in the book. He makes use of several key terms in 24–27 that need to be contextualized within the entirety of his writings. “The City of Chaos” in Isaiah 24:10 and references to “this mountain” in 25:6–7, 10—echoed again in 27:13—are both crucial for placing Isaiah’s eschatological paradigm, specifically in understanding to whom the prophecy refers. Is this for the ancient nation of Israel, the people headed into exile—or for the Israel of today—or is this for all God’s people across time and place?

This “Isaiah apocalypse” holds a crucial place in understanding the cities that appear in the book, and urges us to wonder: Who is the City of Chaos meant to represent? Throughout Isaiah are references to Jerusalem and Babylon, cities that represent the great ladies in the narrative of redemptive history playing out the role of the elect nation of Israel and the pagan nations which surround her. As the poems wind through Isaiah, it is clear that Babylon is destined to fall and sinful Jerusalem to be replaced by a New Jerusalem. And then there are the unnamed cities. The unnamed city in Isaiah 57 presents as Jerusalem’s “sinful alter ego” which must fall and be remade, and in chapter 47 it is possibly meant to juxtapose Babylon. Despite being addressed to the remnant of Israel, those crying out to God, the imagery surrounding the destruction language matches what is also said of Tyre, Sidon and other condemned cities in Isaiah 13–33.

So, is the City of Chaos a pagan lady or the sinful Jerusalem? He contends that this might be intentionally unresolvable, that the reader is left to wonder.

This analysis puts Isaiah’s eschatology into an interesting light. Indeed, without directly labeling a city, how can one say the people of one particular nation will be saved over another? Calvin makes an interesting note in his Commentaries, regarding Isaiah 24:14, that “as the Jews were the first fruits… they are here placed in the highest rank.” And yet, Calvin also observes that these cries of joy and exaltation of the name of the Lord do come from both East and West, coastlands and valleys (vv. 14–16). He notes that Isaiah writes “of spreading the true religion through the whole world; and this makes it still more evident that the prophecy relates to the kingdom of Christ, under which true religion has at length penetrated into the foreign and heathen nations.”

This is mirrored in chapter 25 where “the Lord of armies will prepare a lavish banquet for all peoples on this mountain” (v. 6). He removes the veil which stretches over all the nations (v. 7), which Calvin says is the ignorance of the sinful nature, now dispelled by the light of the gospel. And then God wipes away tears from all faces (v. 8). Old Testament scholar Joseph Blenkinsopp writes: “It is also consoling, and perhaps remarkable, that all peoples are invited to the banquet, the mantle of mourning will be removed from all nations, and the tears will be wiped from every face, unconditionally, with no restrictions or reservations.”

In conjunction with this perception of a multi-ethnic city of believers is the place where this victory shall be inaugurated. The first “eschatological banquet” happens “on this mountain.” It is a mountain referred to often in Isaiah, beginning in chapter 2:

Now it will come about that
In the last days
The mountain of the house of the Lord
Will be established as the chief of the mountains,
And will be raised above the hills;
And all the nations will stream to it.
(Isa. 2:2)

Mount Zion is notably quite low and, at the time of this writing, Jerusalem would have already been destroyed. It is thusly peculiar imagery to point to a small hill and a ruined city as the points of triumph, and Calvin explains that “it was the duty of the pious to look not at those ruins, but at this vision.” It is a vision of the temple, of Christ and of his kingdom.

Of course, Isaiah would not have had the context nor the vocabulary to include the incarnate Jesus and the New Testament era church into this prophecy, nor would Israel have been able to comprehend them. But they are here pictured in Mount Zion as the place where offerings are brought (Isa. 60:22), a house of prayer (Isa. 56:20), and the ones who take refuge in the Lord will inherit it (Isa. 57:13).

Although this imagery would have first been understood as the temple, it points forward even more to Christ and the church (Heb. 7:22–25), and in Isaiah 65:25, “My holy mountain” is used as capstone for the preceding passage about the new heavens and new earth. This mountain is then the church consummate—or perhaps more fittingly, as Isaiah 65:25 portrays with the lion and the lamb peacefully domesticated together, the church at rest.

Without the benefit of history, of seeing the fulfillment of God’s redemptive plan, Mount Zion was meant to be a picture of comfort for God’s people, and, as is true of the church today, Zion is extolled not in her own right but on account of what the Lord will do through her.

This is an important framework for understanding the Last Days in our modern context. It is too easy to take the language of Isaiah and transpose it onto current political events or movements, but Isaiah isn’t just talking about one earthly nation or ethnicity. The eschatological banquet and the passages of 24–27 are intended for God’s elect, those in the nation of Israel at the time of this writing and those in the church in the age to come—to all those who join in singing “Glory to the Righteous One” (Isa. 24:16).

The Millennium in Isaiah

Isaiah’s apocalypse poem does more than tell us who will be saved in the Last Days. It offers perspective on the question of the millennium: when will the Kingdom of God come and how will it appear? As the nations continue to rage, and the church seeks to find its place amid their warring, this question remains prevalent.

To this end, Calvin’s observation about the Lord working through Zion, rather than Zion doing the work, is an important place to start. Based on 24–27, it would not seem that Isaiah envisions a world of pre-Second Advent glory, nor of an earthly post-Coming reign. Rather, Isaiah sees a time of bitterness and gloom where the saints are few and God’s judgment is brought upon the earth (ch. 24), followed by feasting and celebration, the curse conquered and the death-blow dealt to death (ch. 25). This pattern is largely repeated in 26–27. God’s people are saved, his enemies are destroyed.

This small remnant seen especially in chapter 24 is important in understanding Isaiah’s distinctly non-Post-Millennium vision. It is counterintuitive that the few inhabitants mentioned in Isaiah 24:6 could produce with their voices songs that are heard over all the earth (v. 16)—it is clearly a work of God’s hand, in salvation and in judgment. Surely, men will not bring about the triumph of the Kingdom of God, not as they are described here in Isaiah as a small number, scattered (v. 1) and dwindling (v. 4).

In addition to this gloomy picture is the City of Chaos itself. Though often translated as the City of Chaos, the ruined city, or the wasted city, the Hebrew construct in question might be better rendered “the formless city.” Tohu is the same word used in Genesis 1:2 when the Spirit of God is hovering over the waters of an earth that is “formless” and empty. Tohu is used often to refer to or to suggest a breakdown of order or a reversal of roles, and that is exactly what is pictured here. This City of Chaos is the antithesis of man’s achievements. Humans build, create, order, and fill the earth with great cities, grand monuments, and sprawling infrastructures. But this city is formless, desolate, barren. Described in Isaiah’s vision is the opposite of what humankind was called to do in the creation mandate: to fill the earth and subdue it. Here, people are scattered and few and they live in a city of emptiness. This is not Post-Millennium Glory.

It would be difficult from this text to draw the conclusion that any kind of grand earthly reign of the church will take place before or after the Second Coming of Christ, and it is worth noting that Isaiah himself would not have had context for two separate advents. His prophecy has no timeline for the events foretold (e.g. the virgin birth, the raising up of the suffering servant, the resurrection of the dead, etc.). And yet, in Isaiah 24:23, we are told that the Lord will reign on Mount Zion and in Jerusalem, and we know that Mount Zion refers to the place of the church, yes, even the church entering into eternal rest. Isaiah even tells us as much in 2:2 when he introduces the mountain, according to Calvin:

When [Isaiah] mentions the end or completion of days, let us remember that he is speaking of the kingdom of Christ; and we ought also to understand why he gives to the kingdom of Christ this appellation. It was because till that time everything might be said to be in a state of suspense, that the people might not fix their eyes on the present condition of things, which was only a shadow, but on the Redeemer, by whom the reality would be declared. Since Christ came, therefore, if that time be compared with ours, we have actually arrived at the end of ages… Yet it ought to be observed, that while the fullness of days began at the coming of Christ, it flows on in uninterrupted progress until he appear the second time for our salvation.

God’s kingdom reign will not be on a physical mountain in the Middle East but rather over his church. Although Isaiah makes it clear that God will reign over his people, he does not say specifically where that will be.

Death Shall Be Swallowed

While Isaiah does not provide a strict timeline for events (e.g. when God will lay waste to the earth, imprison kings, reign on his holy mountain, or wipe tears from the eyes of all people), the book does reveal one crucial aspect of the Kingdom of God: the resurrection.

Blenkinsopp submits that this reference to death being swallowed up might be a nod to the Canaanite myth about Mot (who embodies Death) swallowing Baal, but then later being himself overcome. Whatever similarities those Ancient Near East mythologies may share, the death being referred to here is much more than just the last breath of a person that passes from lungs to lips. It refers to the state of having death ever before one’s eyes, aware of the outward wasting away (2 Cor. 4:16). This is the presence of the curse which will be once-for-all overthrown. Death conquered is not just an extension of life but a reversal of the curse—the sin and suffering we are subjected to in so many ways will be overcome. Covenant promises will at last be fulfilled. In Christ’s first coming, he crushed the serpent’s head, but the final victory has not yet been consummated. This is shadowed in Isaiah’s imagery in chapter 24, where the people praise God amidst the desolation of the earth. This worship must indicate assurance of God’s victory because, as the psalmist writes, who can praise God in death? (Ps. 6:5)—death must already be conquered for the people of God to have such hope.

As Paul and Isaiah stare down the horizon of God’s promises from either side of the First Advent, they both equally look forward to a final day in which salvation will be fully consummated. But that optimism isn’t placed in earthly kingdoms or the rising of Christian empires. God doesn’t need humans or their governments to usher in the judgment of the Last Days—that is something only the Messiah can do. Isaiah penned this covenantal promise of life and judgment from his context as a prophet of the living God speaking to a ruined Israel, hoping for the return of God’s favor and the sign of its coming: the virgin birth of Immanuel (Isa. 7:14)—an Israel that has now seen the ingrafting of the nations and is called the church. Paul wrote about this promise having met the resurrected Christ himself on the Damascus road—he has seen the sign fulfilled, he himself bears witness to Immanuel and to the dead raised back to life. In 1 Corinthians 15:54, Paul is able to contextualize the words of the prophet Isaiah with the events of the first coming of Christ: “But when this perishable puts on the imperishable, and this mortal puts on immortality, then will come about the saying that is written: ‘Death has been swallowed up in victory’” (1 Cor. 15:54).

The when of this resurrection is important in the discussion of eschatological millennia. When is this resurrection, when is this last day, when death is swallowed and tears are wiped away? It cannot be this inter-advent period, because, as Paul outlines in Corinthians, death is still very much present, in both bodily demise and the external wasting away of the flesh, to say nothing of the persecutions and suffering of the saints (1 Cor. 4:9ff). This language is mirrored in the psalms and prophets, as persecution and death hound God’s people continuously (Ps. 44:22). But we know that Christ has conquered death and the songs lifted up in Isaiah 24 declare assurance of such before the consummation of the eschatological banquet. Calvin explains:

They must undoubtedly be referring to the universal kingdom of Christ;—universal, I say, because we must look not only at the beginning, but also at the accomplishment and the end: and thus it must be extended even to the second coming of Christ, which on that account is called ‘the day of redemption’ and ‘the day of restoration;’ because all things which now appear to be confused shall be fully restored, and assume a new form.

Paul interprets Isaiah 25:8 to take place “in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet” (1 Cor 15:52). “In these words, God intimates that he accomplishes the salvation of his people only when death and the grave are reduced to nothing.” Calvin’s case is that we do not enjoy that complete salvation until the last day; then death will be swallowed up accordingly, “in every respect, a complete victory over it.”

What we see in Isaiah 25:7–10 is a glimpse of the new creation, one which mirrors the picture of peace and rest seen in 65:25. There is no objective ground to support a millennialist view, but rather these passages of Isaiah by themselves indicate a period between first victory and final triumph when God’s people will be scattered in a broken world before he comes at last to swallow up death forever and comfort those who seek refuge in him. Kingdoms of earth will rise and fall—maybe even kingdoms espousing Christian virtues or beliefs—but they will be fleeting, like everything else in this age that is passing away. More so in light of Paul, we see that this coming resurrection, as promised with the risen Christ, is the hope of the Christian faith—not any man-made earthly fortification, but that on the last day, both the destruction of the body and the curse of this world will be overcome.