The chapter begins with a woe on the proud crown of the drunkards of Ephraim, the fading flower of its beauty, set above a fertile valley. The Lord has one who is mighty and strong, like a hailstorm, who will cast that crown to the ground and trample it, like a ripe fig that is swallowed as soon as it is seen. On that day the Lord of hosts will be a crown of glory and a diadem of beauty for the remnant of his people.
Then the prophet turns to Judah. Priests and prophets reel with wine and strong drink, vomit and err in their decisions. They mock Isaiah's message, reducing it to repeated syllables, as if it were for small children: precept upon precept, line upon line. The Lord answers that he will speak to them with strange lips and a foreign tongue, because they would not listen to the rest he offered.
To the scoffers who rule in Jerusalem, who say they have made a covenant with death and an agreement with Sheol and have made lies their refuge, the Lord announces that he lays in Zion a tested stone, a cornerstone with a sure foundation; whoever believes in it will not be in haste. Justice will be the line and righteousness the plumb line, hail will sweep away the refuge of lies, and the covenant with death will be annulled. The chapter ends with a parable from farming: the farmer does not plow forever, nor does he sow and thresh everything the same way; God teaches him each step. So too the Lord, wonderful in counsel and great in wisdom, knows how to deal with his people.