Catholic Commentary
Condemnation of Those Who Forsake Yahweh for False Gods
11“But you who forsake Yahweh, who forget my holy mountain, who prepare a table for Fortune, and who fill up mixed wine to Destiny;12I will destine you to the sword, and you will all bow down to the slaughter; because when I called, you didn’t answer. When I spoke, you didn’t listen; but you did that which was evil in my eyes, and chose that in which I didn’t delight.”
Isaiah 65:11–12 presents God's judgment against those who abandon him to worship idols like Fortune and Destiny, offering them cultic rites instead of obedience. God declares that those who rejected his call will face the sword, for they chose what displeases him—a wordplay showing that only God, not false gods, truly controls human fate.
Those who worship false gods of fortune and fate discover that only the true God controls their destiny—and He has assigned them the sword.
Typological and Spiritual Senses
In the allegorical sense (sensus allegoricus), the Church Fathers — notably St. Jerome and Origen — read such passages as figures of the soul's infidelity. To forsake Yahweh is to forsake the interior sanctuary where God dwells. The "table set for Fortune" becomes a figure of any created good placed above God in the economy of the heart — wealth, status, pleasure, or even intellectual pride.
In the typological sense, this passage anticipates the Matthean parable of the Wedding Banquet (Matt 22:1–14): those invited who refused to come, preferring their own affairs, find themselves excluded from the feast. The "destining to the sword" resonates with the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 AD, which patristic writers from Eusebius to St. Augustine read as a historical fulfillment of such prophetic warnings.
Catholic tradition illuminates this passage with particular depth through its understanding of idolatry as a theological and anthropological disorder, not merely a moral infraction. The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that idolatry "consists in divinizing what is not God" and that it "perverts man's innate sense of God" (CCC §2113). Crucially, the Catechism connects idolatry not only to ancient cult statues but to the modern worship of "power, pleasure, race, ancestors, the state" — exactly the cluster of fate-powers that Gad and Meni represented: luck, prosperity, and the control of one's destiny outside of God.
St. Augustine's analysis in De Civitate Dei (City of God, Book IV) is directly applicable here: he identifies the multiplicity of pagan deities of fate and fortune as the fragmentation of divine attributes across idols — a fragmentation that ultimately enslaves rather than liberates those who worship them. Augustine would see Gad and Meni as archetypal instances of the libido dominandi — the lust to master one's own fate — projected onto false gods.
St. Thomas Aquinas (ST II-II, q. 94) distinguishes idolatry as a sin against both religion and truth simultaneously: it gives to a creature the latria due to God alone and simultaneously embraces a metaphysical lie about who governs reality. This double falseness is exactly what Isaiah 65:12 exposes in its wordplay: the worshippers of Meni find that the real "Meni" — Yahweh — has the last word.
The Second Vatican Council's Gaudium et Spes §19–20 extends this analysis to atheism and secular humanism, noting that when humanity makes itself or its projects the ultimate horizon of meaning, it paradoxically diminishes itself. Isaiah's oracle speaks prophetically into this: to abandon the living God is not freedom but the prelude to a worse captivity.
Isaiah 65:11–12 confronts a temptation as alive in twenty-first century Catholicism as it was in sixth-century Judah: the subtle outsourcing of trust to modern equivalents of Gad and Meni. When Catholics habitually consult horoscopes, rely on superstitious practices, treat financial security or career success as the organizing center of their lives, or place their ultimate hope in political movements or ideological systems to "determine their destiny," they replicate the logic the Lord condemns here. The passage demands a concrete examination of conscience: What tables am I setting for Fortune? Where have I stopped answering when God calls — in prayer, in the sacraments, in the daily Examen — preferring the noise of lesser certainties? The warning of verse 12 is not God's cruelty; it is the coherent consequence of a freedom exercised against its own source. For Catholics experiencing spiritual dryness or tempted to find meaning outside of Christ, this passage is an urgent summons: God has called. The question is whether we are still answering.
Commentary
Isaiah 65:11 — The Identity of the Apostates and Their Idols
"But you who forsake the LORD, who forget my holy mountain, who set a table for Fortune and fill cups of mixed wine for Destiny…"
The Hebrew word translated "forsake" (עֹזְבֵי, 'ozvei) is the same root used throughout the Deuteronomic tradition to describe covenantal betrayal — not passive drift but volitional abandonment (cf. Deut 28:20; Jer 1:16). The phrase "forget my holy mountain" compounds the indictment: Zion, the seat of the Lord's covenant presence, the place where sacrifice and prayer oriented Israel toward God, is willfully erased from memory. This is not forgetting through weakness; it is the forgetting of willful substitution.
The two deities named are "Fortune" (Hebrew: Gad, גַּד) and "Destiny" (Hebrew: Meni, מְנִי). These were astral or fate-deities in the ancient Near East — possibly Canaanite or Babylonian in origin — associated with luck, fate, and the stars that determine human outcomes. To "set a table" and "fill cups of mixed wine" for them describes formal cultic acts of offering: the devotees are not dabbling in superstition but performing liturgical worship directed at powers they believe govern their fate. The bitter irony underscored in the Hebrew is acute: those who seek to secure their destiny through these rites will meet precisely the destiny — judgment — that Yahweh, not Meni, actually controls.
Isaiah 65:12 — The Divine Verdict: The Sword and the Silencing
"I will destine you to the sword, and all of you shall bow down to the slaughter, because, when I called, you did not answer; when I spoke, you did not listen, but you did what was evil in my eyes and chose what I did not delight in."
The Hebrew wordplay here is theologically devastating: the word translated "destine" (מָנִיתִי, manithi) is a direct echo of Meni (Destiny) from verse 11. Those who worshipped the god of Destiny will be assigned their true destiny by the only one who controls fate — the living God. The idol they trusted is unmasked; their actual destiny is inscribed not in the stars but in the words of Yahweh.
The reason given is not arbitrary: "when I called, you did not answer." Divine judgment here is not capricious wrath but the consequence of a sustained refusal of dialogue. The prophetic tradition consistently frames idolatry as the breaking of a relationship, not merely the violation of a rule. God called; Israel chose the silence of gods who cannot speak (cf. Ps 115:5–7). This makes the judgment at once moral and relational: they chose what God did not delight in, a phrase that emphasizes the affective rupture of the covenant bond.