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The God Who Uses Outsiders.

Q: What Is the Gap Theory?

The gap theory proposes that billions of years passed between Genesis 1:1 and 1:2 — a previous creation destroyed by judgment. It's less popular now but was held by many evangelical scholars.

Isaiah 45 — Where God calls a pagan emperor "Messiah" and dares any other god to object

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Key Takeaways

God called a pagan emperor his "anointed" — the same word that became "Messiah" — and used him to rescue Israel without the man ever praying a single prayer.

God issued an open challenge to every competing deity: name one other god who declared the future in advance and then made it happen.
"Every knee will bow" originated here — Paul quoted this verse centuries later and applied it to Jesus in Philippians 2.

📢 Chapter 45 — The God Who Uses Outsiders 🌍

has been building toward something extraordinary. For chapters now, God has been promising that won't be the end of the story — that rescue is coming. But nobody could have predicted how. Because the person God chose to deliver his people wasn't a . Wasn't a . Wasn't even someone who believed in him.

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creation

What Is the Gap Theory?

From the Spotlight

prophecy

Isaiah Named a Persian King 150 Years Before He Was Born

Cyrus the Great is called by name in Isaiah 44 and 45 — long before Persia even existed as an empire.

prophecy

Isaiah Named Babylon's Conqueror 150 Years Early

He said a man named Cyrus would take Babylon. He even described how.

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It was a Persian emperor. And what God said to him — and about him — is one of the most staggering declarations in all of .

The King Who Didn't Know God 👑

Here's what makes this passage so remarkable. God called his "" — the same word used for kings. The same word that eventually became "." He used it for a pagan king who had never worshipped him. And then God spoke directly to Cyrus, describing in advance what he was going to do through him:

"I have grasped your right hand — to bring nations to their knees before you, to strip kings of their armor, to throw open doors that no one can shut.

I will go ahead of you. I will level every obstacle. I will shatter bronze gates and cut through iron bars. I will hand you treasures hidden in darkness, riches stored in secret places — so that you will know that I am the Lord, the God of Israel, and I am the one calling you by name.

For the sake of my servant Jacob — for Israel, my chosen — I called you by name. I gave you a title of honor, even though you don't know me. I am the Lord. There is no other. There is no God besides me. I equipped you, even though you don't know me — so that everyone from east to west would know that there is no one besides me. I am the Lord, and there is no other.

I form light and create darkness. I bring well-being and I bring disaster. I am the Lord, who does all these things."

Let that sink in. God didn't wait for Cyrus to find him. He didn't require belief before he acted. He used a man who had never prayed to him, never read the Scriptures, never set foot in the — and called him by name anyway. God's plans don't depend on our awareness of them. That's either deeply comforting or deeply unsettling, depending on how much control you think you have.

And that last line — "I form light and create darkness, I bring well-being and I bring disaster" — is God refusing to be domesticated. He isn't just in charge of the good parts. He's sovereign over all of it. Every last piece.

Let It Rain ☔

Then the tone shifted. After the weight of everything God just declared, there's this burst of poetry — almost like God himself couldn't hold back the of what was coming:

"Pour down, heavens, from above! Let the skies rain righteousness. Let the earth open wide so that salvation and righteousness spring up together. Let the ground make them both grow. I, the Lord, have created this."

This is God celebrating his own plan. Before it even happened, he was already calling creation itself to participate in the rescue. The rain it. The earth grows it. isn't just an idea — it's something God planted into the fabric of reality itself.

Don't Argue with the Potter 🏺

But God knew there would be objections. People would look at his choice of — a foreign king, an outsider, someone with no in God — and say, "This can't be right. This isn't how it's supposed to work." So God addressed that head-on, and he didn't hold back:

"How terrible for the one who argues with the one who made him — a clay pot among other clay pots! Does the clay say to the potter, 'What are you making?' Does your work say, 'This has no handles'? How terrible for the one who says to a father, 'What have you fathered?' Or to a mother, 'What have you given birth to?'"

Then the Lord, the Holy One of , said this:

"You want to question me about the future? You want to give me instructions about my own children — about the work of my own hands? I made the earth and created the people on it. My hands stretched out the heavens. I commanded every star in the sky. I am the one who raised Cyrus up for a righteous purpose, and I will clear every obstacle in his path. He will rebuild my city. He will set my exiles free — and not because anyone paid him to do it. Not for a price. Not for a reward."

This is the "who do you think you're talking to?" moment. And honestly, it hits close to home. We all do this. We look at the way God is working — the people he's using, the timeline he's chosen, the methods that make no sense to us — and we want to offer suggestions. We want to edit his plan. But the potter doesn't take notes from the clay. God's means he chooses who he uses, how he uses them, and when. Our job isn't to approve the plan. It's to trust the one making it.

Nations Will See It 🌏

Then God expanded the vision even further. This wasn't just about getting rescued. Something bigger was coming:

"The wealth of Egypt and the merchandise of Cush, and the Sabeans — tall, impressive people — will come over to you and belong to you. They will follow you. They will come in chains and bow before you, pleading: 'Surely God is with you. There is no other. There is no other god.'"

Then himself seemed to respond, awestruck:

"Truly, you are a God who hides himself — God of Israel, the Savior."

And the contrast was drawn sharply:

"All of them — the makers of idols — are put to shame. They stumble away in confusion together. But Israel is saved by the Lord with an everlasting salvation. You will never be put to shame. Not now. Not ever."

There's something stunning about that phrase: "a God who hides himself." God wasn't absent from the exile. He wasn't powerless while burned . He was working — quietly, behind the scenes, in ways no one could see. Through a Persian king nobody expected. In a timeline nobody would have chosen. The hiddenness wasn't indifference. It was strategy. And when the rescue came, the whole world would see who had been orchestrating it all along.

A God Who Doesn't Hide His Words 🔊

After calling himself a God who hides, he immediately clarified what he meant — and what he didn't:

For this is what the Lord says — the one who created the heavens (he is God!), who shaped the earth and made it (he established it; he didn't create it to be empty, he made it to be lived in!):

"I am the Lord, and there is no other. I did not speak in secret, in some dark hidden place. I did not say to Jacob's descendants, 'Seek me and find nothing.' I, the Lord, speak truth. I declare what is right."

This matters more than it might seem at first. God hides himself — meaning you can't always see what he's doing in real time. But he does not hide his words. He doesn't play games. He doesn't dangle and then yank it away. When he says "seek me," he means it. When he makes a , he keeps it. The silence between promise and fulfillment isn't cruelty. It's patience. And his word has always been available to anyone willing to look.

The Courtroom Challenge ⚖️

And then God did something breathtaking. He issued an open challenge — to every nation, every religion, every competing claim to divinity. Come. Bring your case. Let's settle this in the open:

"Gather together and come. Draw near, all you survivors of the nations. The people who carry around their wooden idols — who keep praying to a god that cannot save — they know nothing.

Present your case! Let them put their heads together. Who announced this long ago? Who declared it from the beginning? Was it not I, the Lord? There is no other god besides me — a righteous God and a Savior. There is no one besides me."

And then came the invitation — and it wasn't just for :

"Turn to me and be saved, all the ends of the earth! For I am God, and there is no other. I have sworn by myself — a word has gone out from my mouth in righteousness, a word that will not come back empty:

'To me every knee will bow. Every tongue will swear allegiance.'

Only in the Lord — people will say of me — are righteousness and strength. Everyone who raged against him will come and be put to shame. But in the Lord, all the descendants of Israel will be justified — and they will glory in him."

Read that line again: "Every knee will bow. Every tongue will swear allegiance." would quote this centuries later, applying it to in Philippians 2. This isn't a threat — it's a statement about how reality works. Eventually, every competing allegiance runs out of steam. Every alternative disappoints. Every goes silent. And what's left standing is the God who called a pagan king by name, who freed a captive nation without asking for payment, who spoke truth in the open and kept every single word.

That's the God of 45. Not tame. Not predictable. Not waiting for your permission. But findable — for anyone, from any nation, at any point — who's willing to turn.