Dear church,

The tables turned for Mordecai. We love stories like this: The good and the innocent receive a surprising deliverance, and the wicked are shamed.

It was supposed to be the day that Mordecai was hanged from a ridiculously high gallows. Haman had plotted to have Mordecai executed. But at the very moment when Haman was going to request that the king have Mordecai hanged, the king turned the tables. The absent-minded King Ahasuerus told Haman to parade Mordecai through the streets – as if Mordecai were the king.

It is humorous. Haman had been thinking to himself that the king would honor him in that way. Instead, the king told Haman to honor Haman’s own archenemy in that way. The tables turned. Things were flipped upside down. This is what God does for his people.

The apostle Paul said that God, through the work of Christ on the cross, disarmed the rulers and authorities of this world and put them to “open shame.” God “triumphed” over them in Christ (Colossians 2:15). Haman here was put to open shame – a shame he had to live out in silence. Mordecai triumphed over Haman, and he didn’t even have to try.

Haman was a “ruler and authority” in the world of the exiled Jews in Persia. Sin is the ruler and authority we see put to open shame by Christ today.

And Haman’s wife, Zeresh, knew what was going on. It’s like she could sense it. She told Haman that he was beginning to lose his grip on his high position in the Persian court. And if Mordecai really was a Jew, Zeresh told Haman, “you will not overcome him but will surely fall before him.”

That is, there was something special about these Jews.

Zeresh reminded me of Pontius Pilate’s wife. Pilate was the Roman governor who technically sentenced Jesus to death on the cross. But Pilate’s wife warned her husband, even while Pilate was trying to decide how to handle the case: “Have nothing to do with that righteous man …” (Matthew 27:19). There was something special about Jesus.

God has a way of snatching his people out of the jaws of death. The Bible is full of episodes like this. Think about Joseph dumped in a dry well by his brothers and sold into slavery. Think about the people of Israel by the Red Sea. Think about David facing off with Goliath. Think about Daniel in the lion’s den.

The stories go on and on. God loves to deliver his people. I wonder if their reputation preceded them. Maybe even the pagan people knew some of those stories – rumors of a powerful God who refused to let his people be put to shame – a powerful God who brought blessing for his people even in the most dire of moments.

(Read and ponder Numbers 24:3-9 when you get the chance. That’s a blessing given to God’s people by a man who was hired to curse them!)

Mordecai’s salvation came after King Ahasuerus couldn’t sleep. This was no coincidence. A restless night made the king sit up and listen to the reading of the court record – “the book of memorable deeds.” Written there was the story of Mordecai’s uncovering of a plot against King Ahasuerus’ life.

Ahasuerus sat up late at night and listened to his own salvation story! Do you ever struggle to sleep and then open up your Bible?

It is good to write down the blessings of God. We need to remember those moments. We need to give credit where credit is due. The kings of Persia did this. The Jews did this. Perhaps we ought to do this to.

To remember these things – particularly to remember the salvation that’s been given to us through Christ’s death on the cross and resurrection from the dead – is to train our minds in our new reality.

Our new reality is that we are children of God with nothing to fear.

Chris

Dear church,

I wonder how you feel about tradition. A lot of people don’t like tradition. Traditions sometimes seem to be stuffy and old fashioned. Traditions tend to restrict us. They box us in from doing new things.

Of course, we are church people. And so we are people of tradition. Sometimes, we try to get away from the negative concept of tradition, but it is not possible to be a church person and be completely nontraditional.

On Sundays, we gather. That’s a tradition. It’s part of who we are. I find it interesting that virtually every church that claims to be “non-traditional” still meets on Sunday. As Christians, we are creatures of tradition. These simply are traditions that we follow, week in and week out. And as we grow and mature, we find there is life in these traditions.

Tradition isn’t bad in itself. But taking traditions too far can be bad. A friend once told me he didn’t like new Christian songs – just the traditional hymns. “If it wasn’t done in 1905, then I’m against it,” my friend said resolutely. That’s taking tradition too far, of course. And it’s illogical. Air conditioning wasn’t around in 1905, but I know my friend’s truck has air conditioning!

So we can take traditions too far, but that doesn’t discount the reality that Christians are people of tradition. We have traditions that have been passed down to us through the generations. We meet on Sundays. We sing as one. We pray together. We pause to consider the meaning of the Scriptures. We take the bread and the cup. Every now and then, we head to the water to watch a baptism. These deep-seated traditions in the Christian Way bring us life. We know this.

Esther understood the traditions of her ancestors. And she lived into them.

Esther had told the Jews to fast. For three days, she had asked them not to eat or drink. And Esther also fasted, along with the young women who were with her. Fasting is a way in which we submit to God’s rule. It is how we seek out the presence of God. It is how we call upon his power – how we surrender to him in prayer. We let go of things needed for our physical sustenance in order to grab hold of the one who created those things – and us.

There are famous fasts among Esther’s ancestors. Moses and Elijah fasted 40 days while seeking the presence of God (Exodus 34:28; 1 Kings 19:8). It was perfectly natural for Esther to call for the same, albeit more limited, spiritual practice in a time of great need for God’s people. She was following the tradition of her people – the people of God.

And then Esther took the risky step of entering into the presence of the king, uninvited. She did this on the third day after the decree was issued to exterminate the Jews across the Persian empire. That decree was issued on the 13th day of the first month of the year.

And so Esther entered into the king’s presence, she put her life on the line, during the Jewish Passover (Leviticus 23:5-6). Again, she lived into the traditions of her ancestors as she sought the salvation of God’s people. The annual Passover celebration recognized God’s deliverance of the people from slavery in Egypt. Esther now was seeking the deliverance of the people from death – even while they still were in a sort of slavery. Esther was seeking another Passover.

And then, somewhat surprisingly, Esther held a feast. She didn’t have to hold a feast. The king already had promised Esther the gift of up to half his kingdom – if she would only ask. But she didn’t ask. Instead she held a feast. It’s surprising, unless we know the traditions into which Esther was living. The Passover meant feasting. Year in and year out, the Jews feasted at the Passover, remembering the salvation of God. It was the tradition.

And so Esther didn’t ask the king for half his kingdom. She didn’t want half the kingdom. She wanted the king to come to a feast – a reconfigured Passover feast. Esther was living into the traditions of her ancestors. And she was saving the Kingdom.

We can’t tell the rest of the story yet. And this is a story. It’s a salvation story, and we ought to dwell in it one step at a time. And today’s step is about the traditions of the people of God – and it’s about how we live into them. Do we live into them with the eager expectation that God is at work in them? In our gathering, and our singing, and our praying, and our bread and wine (or grape juice!), and our listening to the Word – are we living into them with the expectation that God is at work, that he’s saving us as we go?

We look for the sanctification of the Holy Spirit. We only are born again through the power of God. But we also must live. We must move and think and act like living creatures – creatures who were created not only to sit, but also to do. And so what should we do? Esther may be telling us we should live into the traditions of our spiritual ancestors. And, like Esther, we should expect the saving work of God to move through our lives as we live into those traditions.

The apostle Paul told the church in Philippi about the glory of Christ, who humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death on a cross. Jesus didn’t consider equality with God a thing to be grasped. Instead, the took on the form of a servant. Therefore, Paul said, we ought to obey God.

Paul said, “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling” (Philippians 2:12). Indeed, there’s something we ought to do. We don’t earn it, but we do live into the tradition of our spiritual older brother – of Jesus Christ. So we pray, and we fast, and we eat, and we drink, and we forgive. These are the traditions to which we cling.

And we expect the saving work of God to inhabit these traditions. We expect these somewhat unchanging traditions to do the work of change – of salvation – in our own lives.

Chris

Dear church,

Salvation in the story of the Bible involves sacrifice and faith. It involves a lot of other things, too, but sacrifice and faith are core parts of the salvation story. And here in Esther 4, we get a picture of both sacrifice and faith as events move toward the salvation of the Jews in Persia.

First off, however, this is an interesting book! In the Book of Esther, people sometimes didn’t seem to know things that they really should have known. It’s like they were oblivious to the obvious.

Esther didn’t seem to know the Jews had been set for extermination by the Persian government. I don’t know why she didn’t know. You would think she would have heard about it somehow. Mordecai and pretty much every other Jew knew about it. They were wailing in the streets and wearing sackcloth. But Esther didn’t seem to learn about it until Mordecai sent her an actual copy of the decree.

(The fact that he had a printed copy of the decree shows how high up Mordecai was in the Persian court. In those days, they couldn’t just print these things off the internet.)

Perhaps Esther was just so insulated in the palace that she didn’t know what was happening outside of it. Perhaps this was part of the assimilation process – an exiled Israelite being tugged away from her heritage and her people by her new culture. It could be something else. But Esther was out of touch.

She was brought to reality by the messages from Mordecai. Esther needed to do something. This is perhaps the most famous part of the story. “And who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?”

Mordecai was so resolute. I am going to assume he knew the stories of old – the stories of God’s repeated deliverances of his people – the stories that were full of the promises of God for his chosen ones. I think Mordecai was well aware of the chosen-ness of the Jews.

He told Esther that if she kept silent and didn’t go to the king, then “relief and deliverance” would come from a somewhere else. But Esther was to make no mistake about it: The Jews would be delivered.

We call this faith. Mordecai knew the hand of God was behind the nation of Israel, even as they had been scattered like the wind into foreign lands. Mordecai was certain the nation would survive. Some members of the nation may perish – even Esther might perish – but there would at least be some who called themselves Jews who would survive. They’d been chosen by God.

We also live by faith. In this era after the time of Jesus Christ, we live in faith that God will fulfill his promises. We trust someday we will be able to enter into God’s new heaven and new earth and live in a day without crying or tears or pain. We don’t have the fullness of that “relief and deliverance” yet, but we trust it will happen. Jesus will return. This is an important truth in this era of global anxiety.

I assume the most famous verse in the Bible is John 3:16: “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.” On the one hand is the idea of perishing – of ceasing to live. On the other is eternal life brought about by the gift of God through faith.

The people of Israel, by nature, are a people of faith – believing in the promises of God. And Mordecai was a man of faith. He reminded Esther of the faith of her people – that they were chosen by God.

Salvation in God’s economy also is about sacrifice. Of course, we remember Jesus Christ dying on the cross. “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son.” God is the great Giver. He gave all, even the most precious thing in the world – an only Son. This is the highest form of sacrifice.

I remember the story of the old patriarch Jacob. Jacob had a bunch of sons. Perhaps you remember the story. There was a moment in time when Jacob’s family was on the brink of starvation. In order to save them, he had to send his son Benjamin to Egypt. You get the pretty clear sense from the story Benjamin was the favorite son. It wasn’t clear what would become of Benjamin in Egypt.

Jacob didn’t want to send him. But salvation required sacrifice. And faith. And Jacob, the father, sat back and said, “And as for me, if I am bereaved of my children, I am bereaved” (Genesis 43:14). It’s not that far off from what Esther would say many years later about her own life, “Then I will go to the king, though it is against the law, and if I perish, I perish.” She was willing to sacrifice her own life in an effort to save her people.

You might find it interesting that Benjamin was an ancestor of both Mordecai and Esther. And Benjamin, the beloved son, did not die. And what would become of Esther so many years later? We must keep reading!

God calls his chosen ones to lay down their lives for him. Jesus told us all to take up our crosses – our lives – to follow him. The sacrifice of Jesus Christ is the foundation of our salvation. And the call next is to become, as a church, “a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God” (Romans 12:1).

Faith and sacrifice are part of the story of God’s people. They are part of your story and mine.

Chris

Dear church,

I wonder what it is that drives us to sin. What is inside of us that causes us to do what we know we ought not to do?

My first thought is selfishness. We have to admit we’re all prone to selfishness. We see things that we want, and we go after them – simply because we want them. Those things make us feel good, no matter how they may make others feel. And selfishness causes us to decide that what we want takes priority over what other people want.

There is biblical merit to this idea that selfishness causes us to sin. The Book of James says people are tempted when they are lured away and enticed by their own desires (James 1:14). I follow my desires into sin. You follow your desires into sin. We want what we want.

But I wonder if there is something even more fundamental to our sins. If we go back to the very first sin recorded in Scripture – by Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden – we see Eve took a long look at the forbidden fruit. It was good for food. It was a delight to the eyes. And it could make one wise (Genesis 3:6). There’s plenty to desire there. It was good for the belly, eyes, and brain.

But it is what the serpent says before Eve took that long look at the fruit that should make us pause. The serpent said the fruit would make Adam and Eve “like God” (Genesis 3:5). And I wonder whether here we find the key to all sin. Is our fundamental desire to be like God? And in our effort to be like God, we sin?

It’s an appealing thought to be like God. If you are God, you never have to worry again about what you will eat or what you will wear or where you will live. You never have to worry again about dying, or even about getting sick. If you are like God, you can create solutions to any problem that may arise. I have to admit that I would like to be like God.

So when we lie or when we take something that isn’t ours, are we trying to be like God? Does that desire reside beneath those actions? I suppose that it does if we understand our dishonesty and our theft to be things that we do to get what we want. After all, God can get what he wants. We lie and and steal in an effort to be like God (although it is unlikely we understand it like that at the time).

That brings us to Esther 3 and to Haman – a man who wanted to be like God. He was elevated by King Ahasuerus to the highest position in the land. And all the kings servants bowed down and paid homage to Haman. The king commanded people to do this – to treat Haman like a god. We bow in worship to acknowledge the greatness of another. And we pay homage to someone – we show them special public honor – as a way to demonstrate that person’s greatness.

The king said Haman was to receive these things – worship and homage. And Haman seemed to relish the opportunity to be like God. He certainly didn’t turn people away.

But Mordecai, who was a Jew, seemed to understand clearly what was going on. This was worship of something other than the One True God. And to do this was forbidden for Jews (Exodus 20:3). And it goes without saying that for a true Israelite, no one deserved worship other than the One True God. So Mordecai refused to bow down or pay homage to Haman.

Haman, of course, was not God. This is obvious in the text. Haman was so un-godlike he didn’t even feel he could compel Mordecai to worship him. So, when thwarted in his attempt to be like God, Haman began his sinful work. In fact, it was the worst sinful plan known to humanity – to wipe out a whole race of people in selfishness. This plan to exterminate the Jews reads like Hitler’s Holocaust – only Haman didn’t have to hide his efforts. He could carry them out in plain sight.

All in an effort to be like God.

So what is the antidote to this desire to be like God? How can we escape it in ourselves? Maybe we ought just to let go of the God-complex and realize we aren’t gods. We’re humans who are weak and frail. What we need is a Savior.

For some reason today I am thinking about the New Testament story about Mary and Martha (Luke 10:38-42). This isn’t a story that is naturally paired with the story of Haman and Mordecai. You know the story – Martha was busy getting ready for a big meal or gathering at her house while her sister Mary just sat at Jesus’ feet and listened to him teach. Martha complained to Jesus, and Jesus responded, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.”

This is not much of a story about sin, at least at first glance. I wouldn’t even go so far as to say that Martha sinned – at least not by much. She just wanted to put on a nice event for Jesus. That’s a good thing. But those things didn’t really matter much because God himself was sitting in Martha’s living room! Martha had put her mind on other things – things other than the One True God.

To be like God means that we can set the agenda. And it means that we get all the glory. To be a healthy worshipper of God means I set everything related to “me” aside as I give God glory. I stop trying to be God, and I let him be God.

“Haman, Haman, you are anxious and troubled about many things … You are trying to be like God, but there’s something better for you to do. Let the ‘many things’ loose. You aren’t God. You never will be. It is time to find the God who IS.”

We can say that pretty easily today. But Haman took his frustration and turned it into genocidal action. We sin in trying to become like God. We are saved when we sit down at God’s feet and let him be in control.

Chris

Dear church,

This chapter in Esther made me think about exile, and what that looks like, and the compromises that it forces people to make. For a people in exile, nothing is within their control. Uncertainties abound. There are lots of unknowns. If you are in exile, you aren’t in your own homeland. You are in a land belonging to someone else. You must play by other rules – if you are going to play at all.

It seems that one of the points of exile is to get people to assimilate, to absorb the exiled peoples into their new culture. The ruling class wants the exiles to begin to blend in – and to lose their distinctiveness. It wants them to lose their old identities.

Esther is interesting in this regard. I wonder about her own identity. She clearly identified with the Jews. She had both a Jewish and a Persian name. Her relative and guardian Mordecai could trace his own lineage back to the tribe of Benjamin.

But Esther’s identity was hidden. I assume this was strategic – to not let the ruling class know that she was among the descendants of those who were “carried away” from Israel.

Carried away. That’s probably the best way to describe what it’s like to be in exile – and what Esther’s life seemed to be about. To be “carried away.” That phrase is used three times in one verse in chapter 2. People in exile are just carried away and put into a stream that they don’t control.

I went kayaking once and found myself tossed into the Colorado River. My kayak was long gone, and I was being carried away by the river. All I could do was what I knew to do – to point my feet downstream and bounce off every rock until I finally reached the river’s bank. I survived.

Maybe Esther was simply doing that. An exiled Jew in a foreign land, just trying to survive.

I don’t know what her hope was. I’m not sure she wanted to be entered into King Ahasuerus’ harem. That doesn’t seem to be a good place to be. For a Jewish woman, it must have been a terrible place to be. Sexual purity is important to God’s people. And in those days, so were the dietary laws. Esther went into the harem likely knowing she was about to violate the Law of God.

I wonder whether she turned her head when Hegai provided “her portion of food.” And I didn’t see her resisting the whole purpose of the harem. When her time came, she complied with the regulations – “in the evening she would go in, and in the morning she would return.”

I wonder what the temptation was like simply to assimilate, to blend in, to let go of her old Jewish heritage and to embrace her new Persian reality.

At the end of all this was an intermarriage. Esther found herself the queen of a pagan king. We know from our readings of Ezra and Nehemiah what God thought about intermarriages. Esther was in a difficult spot.

Is this what it means to be “carried away” into exile in the fullest sense? Things seemed so out of control for Esther. She was forced to make compromises. She was forced into servitude. She was forced to make some questionable choices.

At the same time, there were some things she could control. One of those, I see, is her identity. She did control that. She let her Jewishness remain hidden. And her identity later would become important. I wonder whether Esther foresaw that.

Another thing I noticed in Esther’s story is the ridiculousness of chapter 1 seemed to turn around slightly once Esther became queen. Is that a coincidence? King Ahasuerus held a great feast after naming Esther his queen – and he cut the people a tax break and “gave gifts with royal generosity.” That was a pleasant change from what we had seen out of the self-indulgent Ahasuerus so far in this story.

Meanwhile, Mordecai (Esther’s relative and guardian) bailed out the king. He may very well have saved the king’s life – with the help of Esther. It seems that the closer the Jews moved to the seat of power in Persia, the better things got for everyone. Is that a coincidence?

I’d love to hear what your thoughts are about this chapter.

The disciple Peter is an interesting individual, too. I don’t know if Esther sheds some light on Peter, or the other way around. Jesus once told Peter about Peter’s future. Jesus said that when Peter was young, Peter was free to dress himself and to walk about wherever he wanted. But when Peter was old, Jesus said, Peter would do nothing more than stretch out his hands and allow others to dress him and to carry Peter where Peter did not want to go (John 21:18-19).

Carried away in exile? Is this simply what it is like for a child of God living in a fallen and morally bankrupt world?

In one of his own letters, Peter wrote to Christians who were scattered across the world. He called them the “elect exiles of the Dispersion.” Just as the Jews were scattered across the world by exile, so were the Christians by persecution. As you read the newspapers and consider the influence of the world on you, do you ever feel as if you are an “elect exile”? Do you ever sense the world trying to carry you away?

Chris

Dear church,

Let me say from the outset: Esther 1 is one of the most ridiculous chapters in the Bible. More on that later.

But here we are – another book about the exiled people of Israel. (I have enjoyed reading these books about exiles as we are exiled from our regular church meetings!) The Israelites who appear in the Book of Esther still were in exile – unlike those written about in Ezra and Nehemiah and Haggai and Zechariah, who had come back to Jerusalem and were working to rebuild the temple and the city walls. The Book of Esther chronicles a period in the life of the Jews who still were in Persia. They were trying to figure out how to live as God’s people in a foreign land – and also to survive.

The events recorded in the Book of Esther took place during the reign of King Ahasuerus of Persia, who reigned from 486-465 BC. He also was known as King Xerxes. He was the son of King Darius, who approved of the rebuilding of the temple back in Jerusalem (Ezra 6).

So while some of the Israelites were re-establishing themselves in the Promised Land, some of them were still in exile in Persia, trying to hang on in a hostile land.

And that brings us to the ridiculousness of Esther 1. It’s hard to read it and not shake our heads. It paints a picture of a king who ruled like a god. King Ahasuerus reigned from India to Ethiopia over 127 provinces. During the third year of his reign, he threw a huge party that lasted 180 days for the officials in his empire. A six-month party! Who can party for that long?

He wanted to show off “the riches of his royal glory and the splendor and pomp of his greatness.” It was a demonstration of how great he was. He wanted to impress the people around him.

And among those people were the Jews. They must have been part of the seven-day feast King Ahasuerus hosted after his six-month party. “All the people” were there.

So the Israelites were on hand to take in the pomp and circumstance of King Ahasuerus. I wonder what they thought. The description of the king’s palace is very detailed. It’s almost described with the detail the Bible describes the old tabernacle and temple back in the Promised Land. With curtains and pillars and high-priced vessels (Exodus 26; 1 Kings 7:13-51). King Ahasuerus’ palace was an incredibly opulent place.

The tabernacle and the temple were where the presence of God dwelt among his people. So who did King Ahasuerus think he was? Well, he thought he was a god. And he wanted the people to view him as such.

This little god issued an edict about drinking during his big feast. (Maybe he thought he was the god of fraternity parties?) The edict said, “There is no compulsion.” And orders were issued to all the staff of the palace that each man should do as he desired.

So Esther 1 paints the picture for us. This was a fabulously powerful and wealthy king, who reigned over much of the known world. And he threw a party to celebrate his greatness and his power, and he issued an edict that people could drink without stopping and do whatever they wished.

The whole thing is ridiculous – and sad. These are all the things that our world drives us to. It drives us to seek control and power and wealth and fame. It drives us to pursue our own desires while turning a blind eye to the consequences – and the sheer fact that we can’t all pursue our desires. Our desires, if pursued to the fullest extent, tend to cause us to trample one another down.

And that is proved out in Esther 1. King Ahasuerus had a wife named Vashti. She held a feast for the women in the palace. But on the seventh day of the feast, King Ahasuerus sent his eunuchs to Queen Vashti to command her to come into the royal court with her crown on. The king already had showed off his wealth and power. Now he wanted to show off his queen.

Ah, and here we find a limit in King Ahasuerus’ power! Queen Vashti refused to come. His desire and her desire were in conflict. And consequences ensued.

King Ahasuerus looks pretty small throughout the rest of the chapter. He couldn’t get his queen to follow his command. He was enraged and his anger “burned within him.” So he called for the lawyers – the king’s counselors. So this wasn’t an all-wise king. He got their advice about what should be done with Queen Vashti.

The ruling from the king’s counselors was that the queen should be removed and replaced. And a decree should be sent out that women should give honor to their husbands. After all, if all the women did to their husbands what Vashti did to the king, “there will be contempt and wrath in plenty.”

So the message was sent out to all the provinces.

Some might consider Queen Vashti the first feminist. Of course, we don’t know why she refused the king’s command. The text is silent on that. And her action had far-reaching consequences. Men across the land were now affirmed by a royal decree – their wives would give them honor, or else! A royal decree was binding. It could not be repealed. (That was important.)

What a mess. I say it’s a ridiculous chapter because it demonstrates so well the ways of the world in which we live. Values and desires clash against one another, and negative consequences ensue. People get enraged and make sweeping decisions over relatively silly things. The powerful aren’t really as powerful as they look. King Ahasuerus was a man, not a god – regardless of what he thought about himself.

And God’s people were living in this ridiculous and dangerous world.

I wonder if they, like us, were longing for their homeland – a better country (Hebrews 11:13-16).

Chris

Dear church,

Zechariah gives us one final prophecy of the Day of the Lord. He paints a picture of Jerusalem, exalted among the nations. God will fight for his people and destroy their enemies. God will show up. His rule will be clear among humans – and also in the heavens and the earth.

A few things stood out to me as I read Zechariah 14.

The Mount of Olives is where God will make his appearance to his people. The Mount of Olives is a hill east of Jerusalem. Zechariah makes it an important place for Israel. This is where God will stand “on that day.” 

If you recall from our reading of Matthew, Jesus went out and sat on the Mount of Olives and told his disciples about some of the things that would happen in the future. See Matthew 24. After Jesus’ resurrection from the dead, he ascended into heaven from the Mount of Olives. You might remember the disciples asking Jesus, “Lord will you at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?” (Acts 1:6). I wonder whether the disciples had Zechariah 14 in mind as they stood there with Jesus on the Mount of Olives. After Jesus ascended into heaven, a couple of angels appeared and said, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking into heaven? This Jesus, who was taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven” (Acts 1:11-12). Again, go back and read Matthew 24:29-31 and compare it to Zechariah 14.

Another thing that caught my attention about the last chapter of Zechariah was the cosmic nature of the coming of God. There would be no light or cold or frost. There would be “neither day nor night, but at evening time there shall be light.” I imagine there will be some other source of light – God himself as he dwells with his people. And there will be “living waters” flowing out of Jerusalem. These things fulfill numerous biblical prophecies. See Isaiah 60:19-20; Revelation 21:22-25; Joel 3:18; Ezekiel 47:1-12; and Revelation 22:1-5.

On one of Jesus’ trips to Jerusalem during his earthly ministry, he attended the Feast of Booths. This is a feast where the Israelites put up tents or temporary shelters for seven days, presumably to spend the week in them, as a reminder of how they lived after God brought them out of slavery in Egypt. The Feast of Booths is a time of thanksgiving. The people show gratitude for God for his deliverance of them, and they thank him for his providing for them year in and year out.

When Jesus attended the Feast of Booths, he stood up on the last day and said, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water'” (John 7:37-38). I think it’s safe to say this “living water” on Jesus’ mind is the same kind of “living water” Zechariah had in mind.

Over all, the picture Zechariah paints in verses 6-8 is one of God’s light- and life-giving presence with his people.

There is more to be said about the Feast of Booths from Zechariah 14. It was one of three annual feasts where the Israelites were supposed to show up in Jerusalem for worship. And it appears the Feast of Booths is the one feast that will continue into the future for all of God’s people.

“Then everyone who survives of all the nations that have come against Jerusalem will go up year after year to worship the King, the Lord of hosts, and to keep the Feast of Booths.” Even after Jesus fully restores the kingdom of God on earth, people will celebrate the Feast of Booths.

I think about the Israelites remembering their wilderness wanderings – the time between their deliverance from slavery in Egypt and their entrance into the Promised Land, a land flowing with milk and honey. They lived all those years in tents. And once they were in the Promised Land, God made sure they took time out each year to remember that period in their history – so they never would forget their deliverance from slavery.

And I think about us as Christians. Some day we will remember our own “wilderness wanderings” – the time (now!) between our deliverance from sin and death and our entrance into the new heaven and new earth that God has promised to create. We are living all these years in our “tents.” The apostle Paul said as much, and I doubt the language he used was coincidental (2 Corinthians 5:1-10). And once Jesus returns and we enter into the new “Promised Land,” I suppose we will take time out regularly to remember this period in our history – so that we never forget our salvation.

Think about your concept of “heaven” – when everything is made right again, when we are living with God and there is no more suffering or pain. Think also about what your resurrected body (your new and eternal tent) will be like. Think about stopping every now and then – each year in heaven? – to remember these days on earth, as we lived in these “tents.”

“On that day,” what will you remember? We might remember all the ways our bodies broke down – the trips to the dentist and the aching joints. We might remember the heartache and the longing we had. Certainly, we’ll see much of what we thought was permanent was only temporary. Certainly, we’ll see the effects of sin in the form of sickness and decay. And certainly, we’ll be driven to thanksgiving. We will be free from all of that.

Think about these things today. You may find yourself getting thankful even now.

Tomorrow, we dive into the book of Esther.

Chris

Dear church,

Israel was promised by God “a fountain” – “to cleanse them from sin and uncleanness.” The idea of a fountain of water that provides full life to God’s people flows from one end of the Bible to the other (Ezekiel 47:1-12; Revelation 22:1-2). As Christians, when we hear about a fountain that brings cleansing, we think of Jesus.

He had been talking to a Samaritan woman at a well. It was an important well, dating all the way back to the patriarchs of Israel. And Jesus said, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life” (John 4:13-14).

Such water was promised to Israel.

Also promised to Israel was a great cleansing among the people of idolatry and false prophecy. The two go hand in hand – idolatry and false prophecy. It had been that way from the very beginning. In his Law, God had warned the people about the existence of false prophets (and “dreamers of dreams”). If someone gave an accurate prediction and then encouraged the people to worship false gods, the people of Israel were to not listen to that “prophet.”

God said, “For the Lord your God is testing you, to know whether you love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul. You shall walk after the Lord your God and fear him and keep his commandments and obey his voice, and you shall serve him and hold fast to him” (Deuteronomy 13:1-5).

False prophecy ultimately leads to false gods. It leads to idolatry. And God promised to root both out of Israel.

On the flip side are the concepts of testing and obedience. “For the Lord your God is testing you, to know whether you love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul” (Deuteronomy 13:3).

False prophets tempt people to lurch out in search of something other than the One True God. That “something” might be money or reputation or security or good health. Those things can become idols in our lives. Meanwhile, God is seeking faithfulness on our part – a faithfulness that is borne out in obedience.

“On that day,” God will cut off both idolatry and false prophecy. What will be left of his people after those things are stripped away? Will their obedience to God’s commands shine through? And so there is a fountain for cleansing.

Jesus appears again in the final section of this passage – about a shepherd who is struck and a flock of sheep that is scattered. Two thirds of those sheep will perish, and one third will be refined (and tested) by fire. And they will pass the test.

Jesus used this passage to describe his arrest, while a much-too-confident Peter made promises he couldn’t keep. Jesus said, “You will all fall away because of me this night. For it is written, ‘I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep of the flock will be scattered'” (Matthew 26:31).

But those scattered sheep would be refined. “And I will put this third into the fire, and refine them as one refines silver, and test them as gold is tested. They will call upon my name, and I will answer them.”

We are purified, cleansed, strengthened by testing. We grow through testing and trials and through things that seem difficult in this day. My guess is that – generally speaking – the false prophets provide God’s people with an easy way out. False prophets offer some lesser good that we could grab ahold of now. And that leads us away from the One True God – the giver of living water.

So we hold fast to God and his commandments. We continue to obey, even when things are difficult. And we look forward to the day when false prophecy is no more. In fact, we look forward to the day when all prophecy comes to an end.

“As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away” (1 Corinthians 13:8-10).

That day will come. In a sense, it is already here. “I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts. And I will be their God, and they shall be my people. And no longer shall each one teach his neighbor and each his brother, saying, ‘Know the Lord,’ for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, declares the Lord. For I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more” (Jeremiah 31:33-34).

Chris

Dear church,

Some passages of Scripture are meant to be held lightly – delicately. These are texts we aren’t fully going to understand until the end. These are texts we can read and pray over and study. But they aren’t texts we can use as weapons. They aren’t texts we can say we “own.” God told Job when Job was thinking he understood something of God’s – “Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge?” (Job 38:2).

Zechariah 12 is one of those texts that I read and understand to be part of God’s holy Word that may not be for me to fully understand.

So we hold this text lightly in our hands, and we praise God – because it all appears to be good news.

God reminded Israel of who he is. “Thus declares the Lord, who stretched out the heavens and founded the earth and formed the spirit of man within him.” This is the God who operates three spheres of creativity – heaven, earth, and humanity (you and I). “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth” (Genesis 1:1). There is nothing we can look at today – there is nothing beyond the astronomer’s telescope and nothing under the biologist’s microscope – that was not created by God. He made everything. All of it belongs to him.

“Then the Lord God formed the man of dust from the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living creature” (Genesis 2:7). So God stretched out the heavens and founded the earth, and he formed the spirit of man within us. It is the breath of life. And we became living creatures by the creative power of God.

And God chose some of those living creatures – some of those humans – to belong to him and to him alone. God chose a man named Abram and took him outside to look at those heavens made by God – and God asked Abram to see if he could number the stars in the sky. It was impossible, of course. And God said, “So shall your offspring be” (Genesis 15:5).

And Abram believed God. And God told Abram lay out a sacrifice to him of animals – a heifer and a goat and a ram and a turtledove and a pigeon. And Abram cut them in pieces and laid them out on the ground. That night, God promised that years into the future Abram’s family would be slaves in a foreign land. But God would bring them out of slavery. And God would bring them into the Promised Land. And the sign God gave Abram was this, from Genesis 15, “When the sun had gone down and it was dark, behold, a smoking fire pot and a flaming torch passed between these pieces [of sacrifice]. On that day the Lord made a covenant with Abram, saying, ‘To your offspring I give this land'” (Genesis 15:17-18).

We know that land to be the land of Israel. And we know Abram’s offspring to be the Jewish nation. And the creator of the heavens and earth and humanity made his promise to Israel. Abram’s family would have this land – a gift from God. And the city of Jerusalem is in the middle of that land.

In Zechariah 12, God promised he would make Jerusalem “a cup of staggering to all the surrounding peoples.” That is, God would make the city of Jerusalem something through which he poured out his wrath on the surrounding peoples. (See Isaiah 51:17). Zechariah paints for us a picture of a great siege of Jerusalem – the city of God – by enemy nations. But it would not go well for those nations!

Six times in this passage, Zechariah quotes God saying, “On that day …” This is the Day of Lord. We might call this the End. The day when God sets things right in the world and when we might see things turned upside down. So I believe God is talking here in Zechariah 12 about future “day.” This is not a reference to any past battle in Israel’s history. This day hasn’t happened yet. But it will.

1) “On that day,” God will make Jerusalem like a heavy stone that injures people when they try to move it. Jerusalem will be like a rock – immovable. All the nations will gather against it, but to no avail. (I think about Matthew 16:18 here.)

2) “On that day,” God will put panic and madness and blindness into the enemies of Israel. There will be chaos among the nations of the earth. And the people of God will know, “The inhabitants of Jerusalem have strength through the Lord of hosts, their God.” The power of God will be clear. It’s not the power of humanity. It’s the power of the creator of humanity.

3) “On that day,” God will make the families of Judah – the kingly family of Israel – like a “blazing pot in the midst of wood, like a flaming torch among sheaves.” Remember the covenant promise to Abram – the vision of the fire pot and flaming torch and the promise of the land. The surrounding peoples will be destroyed, and Judah will be saved first.

4) “On that day,” God will protect the people of Jerusalem. The “feeblest” among them will be like David – who was the strongest warrior they’d ever known. Things will be turned upside down. It is not physical strength that God exalts. It is something else. And there’s more: “And the house of David shall be like God, like the angel of the Lord, going before them.” It is a powerful statement to say any human – or group of humans – will be “like God.”

5) “On that day,” God will seek to destroy the nations that oppose Jerusalem. Meanhile, something amazing would happen to the inhabitants of Jerusalem and the house of David. God will pour out “a spirit of grace and pleas for mercy, so that when they look on me [God!], on him whom they have pierced, they shall mourn for him, as one mourns for an only child, and weep bitterly over him, as one weeps over a firstborn.”

There was a man hanging on a cross once. He was a man who was born into the family of Judah, the house of David – the same people Zechariah was writing about. The disciple John recorded this: “But when they [the Roman soldiers] came to Jesus and saw that he was already dead, they did not break his legs. But one of the soldiers pierced his side with a spear, and at once there came out blood and water. He who saw it has borne witness – his testimony is true, and he knows that he is telling the truth – that you also may believe. For these things took place that the Scripture might be fulfilled: ‘Not one of his bones will be broken.’ And again another Scripture says, ‘They will look on him whom they have pierced'” (John 21:33-37).

6) “On that day,” God will hear mourning in Jerusalem. It will be like the mourning that took place on the plain of Megiddo. I think this is a reference to the death of King Josiah, the last godly king of Israel. His death in 610 BC ushered in 70 years of “exile” that lasted until the survivors of Israel returned to the Promised Land. The people lamented the death of King Josiah (2 Chronicles 35:20-25). But this lamenting over the God “whom they have pierced” would be just as great. The lamenting would include both the kingly families of Israel and the priestly ones.

And so we hold this text lightly because it might not totally be about us as Gentile believers in Jesus Christ who are waiting for the return of Christ. This text may be about Israel. What’s going to happen to Israel in the future – to those who are part of the family of Abram but who reject Christ as their messiah?

The apostle Paul wrote this, “Lest you be wise in your own sight, I do not want you to be unaware of this mystery, brothers: a partial hardening has come upon Israel, until the fullness of the Gentiles has come in. And in this way all Israel will be saved” (Romans 11:25-26).

Could this “spirit of grace and pleas for mercy” that God pours out on Israel mark their salvation – when they see again Jesus, the “pierced” one? Will all Israel be saved when Jesus returns – the God whom they have pierced? Will Israel in that moment turn back to God in repentance? The apostle Paul went on to say, “For just as you [Gentile Christians] were at one time disobedient to God but now have received mercy because of their disobedience, so they too have now been disobedient in order that by the mercy shown to you they also may now receive mercy. For God has consigned all to disobedience, that he may have mercy on all” (Romans 11:30-32).

So we hold this text lightly, and we wait for “that day.” We thank God for his mercy to us. And we look forward to the day when God brings all promises to completion – to us and to Israel. Our God is a God of mercy.

Chris

Dear church,

Outside of the opening three verses of this chapter – which really are a continuation of the previous chapter – Zechariah 11 is about shepherding and sheep and, frankly, destruction. God does not paint a pretty picture here.

God gives Zechariah a commission as “shepherd” of Israel. Zechariah carried out his commission and rooted out, in the course of a month, “three shepherds” who apparently were up to no good. Bible scholars really have no idea who those three shepherds were. It’s a biblical mystery.

But the people – the “sheep” – resented Zechariah and drove him to quit his shepherding job in protest. He took his wages, “thirty pieces of silver,” and threw them into the temple where the potters were. This might also be a reference to the temple treasury.

Then God asked Zechariah to take up his role as shepherd again (verse 15). But this time, Zechariah was to act like a “foolish shepherd.” God then pronounced a curse on “my worthless shepherd.”

So there’s an interesting story here. This is one of those chapters that you might want to read a couple of times, or more.

A good shepherd, who tried to carry out his commission in the midst of a difficult time, quit in protest because the sheep were unruly. The sheep, of course, didn’t seem to see that they were under dire threat. They were “doomed to slaughter.” There were sheep traders observing all of this. Were they other nations?

The good shepherd had two staffs – one named “Favor” and one named “Union.” They represented God’s favor on the nation and the union of the northern and southern tribes of Israel. When things got tough in the land, and the sheep and shepherd had their falling out, the shepherd broke each staff. God’s favor was pulled back from the flock, and the unity of the nation of Israel was broken.

That was it for the good shepherd. Next, God appointed the foolish shepherd. This one didn’t care for the flock. He didn’t seek out the newborns. And he didn’t heal those who were sick. Instead, this bad shepherd just sought to devour every ounce of the flock – right down to the hoofs.

So the following is where my brain went with this text. Take it for what it’s worth:

The prophet Ezekiel had prophesied that the nation of Israel would be reunited after its exile in Babylonia. God had given Ezekiel a sign. He told the prophet to take two sticks. On one, he was to write “For Judah,” and on the other, he was to write, “For Joseph.” These represented the two nations of Israel that were divided after the death of King Solomon. Then God told Ezekiel, “join them one to another into one stick, that they may become one in your hand” (Ezekiel 37:17). It was God’s promise that the old division would be broken down when he returned the people to their land (Ezekiel 37:15-23).

The fact that the “unity” staff was broken must have meant God’s people simply were not there yet. Unity still was coming.

The prophet Ezekiel also had a lot to say about good and bad shepherds of the people of Israel. Ezekiel 34 is worth reading. God condemned the leaders of Israel as bad shepherds who didn’t search out the lost sheep but instead fed them to the wolves. In fact, the shepherds were eating the sheep themselves (Ezekiel 34:7-10). This is bad leadership!

Then God said, “Behold, I, I myself will search for my sheep and will seek them out. As a shepherd seeks out his flock when he is among his sheep that have been scattered, so will I seek out my sheep, and I will rescue them from all places where they have been scattered on a day of clouds and thick darkness” (Ezekiel 34:11-12).

Jesus – God in the flesh – said, “I am the good shepherd” (John 10:11).

Back in Zechariah 11, when the prophet got fed up with the people and quit his shepherding job, he accepted “thirty pieces of silver” for his work. God seemed to mock it – “the lordly price at which I was priced by them.” He told Zechariah to throw the money into the temple.

When Judas Iscariot betrayed Jesus, the leaders of Israel gave Judas thirty pieces of silver. Judas had a moment of remorse, however, and threw the money into the temple (Matthew 27:3-5). But the priests knew it was blood money and didn’t want it to go into the “treasury.” So instead, they bought a “potter’s field” (Matthew 27:6-10).

And by the way, thirty pieces of silver was the going price for a slave during at least one moment in biblical history (Exodus 21:32). This is all stuff worth pondering!

And when Zechariah quit his role as the shepherd of the people, he said, “I will not be your shepherd. What is to die, let it die. What is to be destroyed, let it be destroyed. And let those who are left devour the flesh of one another.”

The apostle Paul reported this about all of humanity, about all of us, as we live our lives in rebellion against God: “Therefore God gave them up in the lusts of their hearts to impurity, to the dishonoring of their bodies among themselves, because they exchanged the truth about God for a lie … For this reason God gave them up to dishonorable passions. … And since they did not see fit to acknowledge God, God gave them up to a debased mind …” (Romans 1:24-32).

I’m not sure what else to say about Zechariah 11, except this: The world was broken when Jesus Christ stepped onto the scene. Nothing was working the way that it should – the shepherds or the sheep. The favor of God was gone. The sheep traders were looking on. The unity of the people was broken.

And then the good shepherd came. The favor of God is given to anyone who responds to the call of this shepherd. And we are called into a flock – a community of the faithful who follow, together, as one.

Spend your own time with this text. Listen for what God has to say to you today.

Chris