English Standard Version
Sometimes the problem is bigger than it seems. Having children requires one to learn to be a detective. When children act up or act out, what they say is the problem is likely not the real problem -- they are probably upset over something else. It's like when people come home from a long day and kick the dog -- the dog isn't the problem, but the anger is transferred.
When we think about sin, we often individualize it and think about my sin. Occasionally, we recognize that it's not just a me problem, but it's a we problem -- we see that sin can be systematic, can be societal. I'm currently reading Greg Grandin's The Empire of Necessity, about the tragedy of slavery and how deeply interwoven it was in all levels of society (it's a really well-done book, heartbreaking and illuminating and many other things all at once. Grandin focuses on a particular event and then tells the story of how all those people arrived at that place and time, presenting the dynamics of the age as the reader journeys with characters and better understands how the economy and trade and society functioned in that time as a result. Grandin also wrote Forlandia, all about Henry Ford's attempt to build a rubber plantation in Brazil, which is also a great read.).
Here, Isaiah is painting a picture that moves beyond even the human levels, which is helpful for us to think about how sin has infected all of creation. In the last days, when creation is being redeemed, nature itself will rejoice. The thorn and brier are pictures of nature in conflict with humans, and the cypress and myrtle shall replace them, as creation moves from broken to redeemed.
All of creation shall be redeemed, and the stain of sin shall be lifted from each part of creation that is touched by it. We shall join with the rocks and trees as we cry out our praise to God.
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