God does not share His glory

There's something profoundly unsettling about watching someone make a decision that seems completely out of character—especially when that decision comes on the heels of experiencing God's miraculous intervention. Yet this is precisely what we encounter in the story of King Hezekiah, a narrative that reveals a timeless truth about human nature and divine glory.

When Pride Eclipses Gratitude
Hezekiah had just experienced one of the most dramatic divine interventions imaginable. God had not only healed him from a terminal illness but had literally reversed time as a sign of His promise. The shadow moved backward on the sundial—an astronomical impossibility that left no doubt about who was responsible for the king's recovery.

Yet when envoys from Babylon arrived at his door with letters and gifts, Hezekiah made a bewildering choice. He threw open the doors to his treasury and showed these foreign representatives everything—the silver, the gold, the spices, the armory. Nothing was hidden. It was as if he wanted them to be impressed with his wealth, his power, his kingdom.

But here's the question that should arrest us: Why would he do this?

The answer likely lies in a mixture of pride and political calculation. Hezekiah probably recognized that Babylon was interested in forming an alliance against the dominant Assyrian empire. Perhaps he felt the need to prove that Judah wasn't some insignificant backwater kingdom. He wanted to make an impression, to demonstrate that he was a player on the world stage.

In doing so, Hezekiah forgot something crucial: everything he possessed was because of God. His wealth, his military strength, his very life—all of it was a gift. And in that moment of showing off, he was essentially trying to claim some of God's glory for himself.

Understanding Glory
The Hebrew word for glory is Chabod, which fundamentally means "weighty" or "heavy."

When used positively, it conveys importance, splendor, and honor. God's glory, then, is the revelation of who He truly is—His majesty, His power, His character made manifest.

We see this glory revealed in creation. When you stand before a mountain range at sunset, or gaze at the stars on a clear night, or witness the intricate design of a flower, what you're experiencing is the glory of God being revealed. His splendor, His greatness, His creative power on display.

But here's the non-negotiable truth: God does not share His glory with anyone.

This isn't divine insecurity. It's simply the reality that no one and nothing can truly compare to Him. To allow creation to claim credit for what only the Creator can do would be to endorse a fundamental lie about the nature of reality.

The Consequences of Forgotten Grace
The prophet Isaiah confronted Hezekiah with a sobering prophecy: everything in his palace would one day be carried off to Babylon. Even his own descendants would be taken as captives. The very nation he had tried to impress would become the instrument of judgment.

Hezekiah's response is perhaps even more troubling than his initial mistake: "The word of the Lord you have spoken is good... for there will be peace and security in my lifetime."

Imagine knowing that your descendants will suffer terribly, but responding with relief that at least you won't have to deal with it. It's the spiritual equivalent of saying, "I'm glad I won't be here during the tribulation—too bad for everyone else."

This attitude reveals how easily we can become consumed with our own comfort while remaining indifferent to the consequences our choices create for others.

A Message of Hope in Captivity
Yet even in pronouncing judgment, God provided hope. Isaiah 40 opens with one of the most beautiful passages in Scripture: "Comfort, comfort my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and proclaim to her that her hard service has been completed, that her sin has been paid for."

This was a message for the future—for the people who would live through seventy years of Babylonian captivity. And those seventy years weren't arbitrary. They represented one year for every Sabbath year the people had failed to observe. God was essentially saying, "You wouldn't let the land rest as I commanded, so now it will get its rest while you're away."

But when that season of judgment ended, it would truly be over. The debt would be paid. God wouldn't hold it against them any longer.

The Enduring Word
The passage goes on to make a stark comparison: "All people are like grass, and all their faithfulness is like the flowers of the field. The grass withers and the flowers fall... but the word of our God endures forever."

Think about what this means:

• Human life is short
• Human governments are temporary
• Human glory is fleeting
• Human power is fragile
• Nothing in humanity is permanent

But God's promises never fade. His purposes never fail. His covenant is unbreakable. His salvation is certain. His kingdom is everlasting.

In our world today, where do we truly place our hope? What government can we fully trust? What military might guarantees security? What economic system ensures prosperity? When you really examine it, everything human is temporary and fragile.

Who Is Like Our God?
The chapter builds to a crescendo of rhetorical questions: "With whom will you compare God? To what image will you liken him?"

The answer, of course, is no one and nothing. God sits enthroned above the circle of the earth. He stretches out the heavens like a canopy. He brings princes to nothing and reduces rulers to dust. He calls forth each star by name, and because of His great power and mighty strength, not one is missing.

This is the God who gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even young people grow tired, but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not be faint.

Living in Light of His Glory
So what does this mean for us today? It means that whatever season we're in—whether blessing or hardship—our hope cannot rest in human strength, political stability, national power, or even our circumstances.

If you're in a difficult season because of choices you've made, the length of that season may depend on how long it takes you to truly repent and turn back to God. If you're facing hardship for other reasons, remember that God has a defined period for it, even if you don't know what that period is. And if you're dealing with something you'll carry for the rest of your life, remember that it will end when you go to be with Christ—and then everything will be wonderful because you'll be with Him.

The temptation Hezekiah faced—to claim some of God's glory for ourselves—is one we all encounter. When things go well, when we achieve something significant, when others are impressed with us, we can subtly forget that everything we have and everything we've accomplished is ultimately because of God.

The antidote is remembering who He is and living in light of His unchanging glory. No matter what happens in our world, in our nation, or in our personal lives, God is still on the throne. He's still reigning. He's still in control.

And we can rest in that tonight and every night.