Those who call evil good and good evil are as good as dead, who turn darkness into light and light into darkness, who turn bitter into sweet and sweet into bitter.

But then one of the seraphs flew toward me. In his hand was a hot coal he had taken from the altar with tongs.

He touched my mouth with it and said, "Look, this coal has touched your lips. Your evil is removed; your sin is forgiven."

But he does not agree with this, his mind does not reason this way, for his goal is to destroy, and to eliminate many nations.

The poor will graze in my pastures; the needy will rest securely. But I will kill your root by famine; it will put to death all your survivors.

Though these people make an uproar as loud as the roaring of powerful waves, when he shouts at them, they will flee to a distant land, driven before the wind like dead weeds on the hills, or like dead thistles before a strong gale.

But look, there is outright celebration! You say, "Kill the ox and slaughter the sheep, eat meat and drink wine. Eat and drink, for tomorrow we die!"

At that time the Lord will punish with his destructive, great, and powerful sword Leviathan the fast-moving serpent, Leviathan the squirming serpent; he will kill the sea monster.

Judgment will come from the Lord who commands armies, accompanied by thunder, earthquake, and a loud noise, by a strong gale, a windstorm, and a consuming flame of fire.

Your thinking is perverse! Should the potter be regarded as clay? Should the thing made say about its maker, "He didn't make me"? Or should the pottery say about the potter, "He doesn't understand"?

Egypt is totally incapable of helping. For this reason I call her 'Proud one who is silenced.'"

It shatters in pieces like a clay jar, so shattered to bits that none of it can be salvaged. Among its fragments one cannot find a shard large enough to scoop a hot coal from a fire or to skim off water from a cistern."

Instead the Lord will rule there as our mighty king. Rivers and wide streams will flow through it; no war galley will enter; no large ships will sail through.

Her nobles will have nothing left to call a kingdom and all her officials will disappear.

I have stirred up one out of the north and he advances, one from the eastern horizon who prays in my name. He steps on rulers as if they were clay, like a potter treading the clay.

Now, this is what the Lord says, the one who created you, O Jacob, and formed you, O Israel: "Don't be afraid, for I will protect you. I call you by name, you are mine.

"But you did not call for me, O Jacob; you did not long for me, O Israel.

For the sake of my servant Jacob, Israel, my chosen one, I call you by name and give you a title of respect, even though you do not recognize me.

One who argues with his creator is in grave danger, one who is like a mere shard among the other shards on the ground! The clay should not say to the potter, "What in the world are you doing? Your work lacks skill!"

Why does no one challenge me when I come? Why does no one respond when I call? Is my hand too weak to deliver you? Do I lack the power to rescue you? Look, with a mere shout I can dry up the sea; I can turn streams into a desert, so the fish rot away and die from lack of water.

"Indeed, the Lord will call you back like a wife who has been abandoned and suffers from depression, like a young wife when she has been rejected," says your God.

Seek the Lord while he makes himself available; call to him while he is nearby!

Is this really the kind of fasting I want? Do I want a day when people merely humble themselves, bowing their heads like a reed and stretching out on sackcloth and ashes? Is this really what you call a fast, a day that is pleasing to the Lord?

Then you will call out, and the Lord will respond; you will cry out, and he will reply, 'Here I am.' You must remove the burdensome yoke from among you and stop pointing fingers and speaking sinfully.

The children of your oppressors will come bowing to you; all who treated you with disrespect will bow down at your feet. They will call you, 'The City of the Lord, Zion of the Holy One of Israel.'

Yet, Lord, you are our father. We are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the product of your labor.

Your names will live on in the curse formulas of my chosen ones. The sovereign Lord will kill you, but he will give his servants another name.

Before they even call out, I will respond; while they are still speaking, I will hear.

For the Lord judges all humanity with fire and his sword; the Lord will kill many.