Agod from a machine”—that is the literal translation of deus ex machina. This Latin phrase refers to the ancient Greek and Roman dramatic device used to solve an unsolvable problem at the end of a play by using a crane (“machine”) to lower a god onto the stage from above.
“O that you would tear open the heavens and come down.” Imagine this as a deus ex machina moment, when God comes and sorts out all the discord, violence, and worry of our lives and world. Wouldn’t it be wonderful for God to fix it all—especially when it seems God has abandoned us?
It is an ancient hope, this desire for God to swoop down from on high and tidy up the messes we make and to heal our brokenness, the woundedness of a loved one, or a world at war. These verses reflect that hope. Isaiah’s people find themselves embroiled in conflict as they return to Jerusalem after a long exile. Power struggles, land disputes, and violence are pervasive. These words of lament long for God’s divine power to bring change into what must seem a hopeless situation.
Some things in life do seem hopeless—things as simple as how to wrestle our schedule into a sustainable rhythm or as complex as the challenges of race relations in America or the deep distrust barring peace in the Middle East. Situations both personal and global threaten to steal our hope. And yet, even when all seems lost, we hope that in Jesus, God has torn open the heavens and come down, has come right into the midst of the violence and despair of the world. Jesus comes not to make the painful bits of life disappear but to assure us that God is with us through it all, mending, loving, saving.