REVELATION: Seals from Scripture

I’m confident we can jump right in to the sixth chapter of Revelation as we’ve learned some of the most common questions to ask. As usual, we will be looking for insight in the culture (of the first-century Greco-Roman world) and the quoted Text (Hebrew Scriptures) within the teaching. First, let’s take a cursory look at the culture sitting just under the surface of this chapter:

I watched as the Lamb opened the first of the seven seals. Then I heard one of the four living creatures say in a voice like thunder, “Come!” I looked, and there before me was a white horse! Its rider held a bow, and he was given a crown, and he rode out as a conqueror bent on conquest.

This talk about conquest would ring loud in the ears of the early readers. A Roman conquest was built upon the words of Julius Ceasar: “Veni, vidi, vici.” — “I came. I saw. I conquered.” And a later Roman slogan was similar: “Piety. War. Victory. Peace.” This narrative of conquest would be known well by the original recipients of John’s letter.

When the Lamb opened the second seal, I heard the second living creature say, “Come!” Then another horse came out, a fiery red one. Its rider was given power to take peace from the earth and to make people kill each other. To him was given a large sword.

As the Lamb (see the discussion on the prior chapter of Revelation) continues to break open the seven seals on this scroll, the situation in the world progresses. The next horse is the red horse representing blood and the slaughter of mankind, one to another. Whether it’s the slaughter of war, the entertainment of the Romans (i.e., gladiators, the arena or colosseum, etc.), or the art that surrounds them, this is a fitting reference to the culture at large.

When the Lamb opened the third seal, I heard the third living creature say, “Come!” I looked, and there before me was a black horse! Its rider was holding a pair of scales in his hand. Then I heard what sounded like a voice among the four living creatures, saying, “Two pounds of wheat for a day’s wages, and six pounds of barley for a day’s wages, and do not damage the oil and the wine!”

As we discussed with Philadelphia, this is a reference that matches (exactly) the records we’ve found in biblical Asia. Building an empire is always done at a cost, and the price is often steep. The grain shortage felt throughout the Roman Empire was staggering.

When the Lamb opened the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living creature say, “Come!” I looked, and there before me was a pale horse! Its rider was named Death, and Hades was following close behind him. They were given power over a fourth of the earth to kill by sword, famine and plague, and by the wild beasts of the earth.

The reign of Rome — for people like the original hearers of Revelation — obviously culminates in death and what appears to be the victory of evil. John makes the fourth horse out to represent Death itself, and then tags on the Greek idea of Hades. This belief in the underworld and spawning place of evil would not only be a perfect cultural play, but would also serve as a fitting picture for this empire that bears down on the people who hear John’s message.

When he opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of those who had been slain because of the word of God and the testimony they had maintained.They called out in a loud voice, “How long, Sovereign Lord, holy and true, until you judge the inhabitants of the earth and avenge our blood?” Then each of them was given a white robe, and they were told to wait a little longer, until the full number of their fellow servants, their brothers and sisters, were killed just as they had been.

Like we just said above, this Roman ideal leads to death — the slaughter of thousands upon thousands of believers. These are people who were unwilling to bend the knee to the emperor’s demands for worship — people who claimed to stand for a better gospel. 

I watched as he opened the sixth seal. There was a great earthquake. The sun turned black like sackcloth made of goat hair, the whole moon turned blood red, and the stars in the sky fell to earth, as figs drop from a fig tree when shaken by a strong wind. The heavens receded like a scroll being rolled up, and every mountain and island was removed from its place.

What discussion in this series hasn’t included a discussion about the major earthquakes that ravaged the region?

Then the kings of the earth, the princes, the generals, the rich, the mighty, and everyone else, both slave and free, hid in caves and among the rocks of the mountains. They called to the mountains and the rocks, “Fall on us and hide us from the face of him who sits on the throne and from the wrath of the Lamb! For the great day of their wrath has come, and who can withstand it?”

For the original readers, I believe the thing that would have stuck out to them about this paragraph is not the theological judgment of God, but the fact that this is a reality for all people — kings, princes, generals, the rich, the mighty, slave, free, and everyone else. In a world where it seems like judgment is reserved for the oppressed and wielded by the powerful, John writes about a greater truth that applies to all people, no matter who they are.

But now we must look for insight in our second source: Where is John getting his material?

Without a doubt, the chapter is built upon the image of Zechariah 6, written centuries earlier, with horses that match the same colorful descriptions. I’ve already used a lot of Text in this passage, but it would serve you well to read how Zechariah 6 ends. The message of Zechariah 6 is a stunning reference to followers of Jesus who are wondering if they should give up hope. They would hear a passage written to their ancestors — ancestors who made it through great persecution and found the rescue and redemption of God. And this is all before we mention the obvious implications of Jesus being “the Branch” talked about there.

When it comes to the talk about death, famine, and pestilence, would the readers immediately think of Hosea 13:24, Jeremiah 15:2–3, 24:10, or Ezekiel 5:17? It might be fitting if they did, since these references all come from apocalyptic encouragement, just like the passage above.

And when the slain martyrs of Revelation 6 cry out, do the readers think of Psalm 79 or Psalm 114 (particularly around verse 84)? Although we already gave references with Sardis to the great earthquake alluded to here, do the listeners also think of Isaiah 29 or Ezekiel 38 (see verse 19, specifically)? Doesn’t the context of Revelation 6 make so much more sense if we realize and remember that the Jewish listeners had Isaiah 34 memorized? (Compare Isaiah 34 with Revelation 6:12–14.)

My point is this: These people were not baffled by the contents of Revelation. The people there understood the immediate application to their immediate context. The Jewish listeners in their midst were equipped to expound on the teaching of John deliberately buried in his letter as a source of encouragement and exhortation. Please understand that the original readers would certainly not have projected these pictures and ideas into the future. These references were about their own brothers and sisters, uncles and cousins. The “souls of those who had been slain” were people they knew by name.

I believe one of the reasons you and I have a hard time interpreting and understanding the book of Revelation — the reason we immediately project its meaning into the future — is because we don’t know what it’s like to be on the side of true persecution. We don’t know what it’s like to sit on the other side of the Roman sword. We don’t know what it’s like to watch the systemic and premeditated pursuit and extermination of our fellowship. And it affects our ability to understand an apocalyptic letter written to a group of people who fear for their lives; we don’t know how to hear its message of perseverance and the call to remain vigilant and steadfast, even to the point of death.

Quite frankly, as a whole (I realize there are individuals in our midst who have endured great suffering; I have no intent to downplay that), we have spent most of our time at the handle end of the sword of oppression. We have fought for our own rights instead of pursuing the self-sacrificial way of Jesus. We’ve been more concerned with Starbucks cups, bathroom signs, and wedding cakes than we have been with anything that would have ever occupied the thoughts of those people who preserved the faith we too often misinterpret.

We have mistaken the loss of privilege for persecution.

There is a host of people slain under the altar in the book of Revelation who cry out for us to remember what they signed up for — what they gave their lives for. They didn’t give their lives so we could live comfortable American dreams and protect our privilege. They laid their lives down because it’s what their Rabbi did. He taught them how to trust in and live out a narrative of self-sacrifice.

It’s the story we’re invited to trust, too. May we honor their memory. More importantly, may we kiddush HaShem (“hallow the Name”).

REVELATION: A Man Among the Lampstands

We’ll continue this journey by trying to introduce some very new and big ideas in small doses until we get used to them. Again, I would recommend beginning a study about these things by utilizing the resources I recommended when we introduced Revelation. But let’s start with where we left off the discussion last time:

To him who loves us and has freed us from our sins by his blood, and has made us to be a kingdom and priests to serve his God and Father—to him be glory and power for ever and ever! Amen.

“Look, he is coming with the clouds,”    and “every eye will see him,even those who pierced him”;    and all peoples on earth “will mourn because of him.”So shall it be! Amen.

“I am the Alpha and the Omega,” says the Lord God, “who is, and who was, and who is to come, the Almighty.”

John starts by making what seems to be an obvious allusion to the person of Jesus — the one who has freed us from our sins and made us to be a kingdom of priests. About Jesus, John makes two connections directly from the Old Testament. However, John doesn’t just pull the phrasing he wants from any book in the Tanakh; he pulls the references from other apocalyptic books. In doing this, John not only makes it clear about the genre of literature he’s engaging and the ideas he’s working with, but also sets the stage by connecting the context of struggle and perseverance to the context of his audience who is also struggling to persevere. It’s almost as if John is saying, “Remember, we’ve been here before. Let me quote to you from books that were written during similar struggles.”

And in case you were curious about the exact quotations, “coming with the clouds” is pulled from Daniel (chapter 7) and the idea of “those who have pierced him will mourn” is pulled from Zechariah (chapter 12).

I, John, your brother and companion in the suffering and kingdom and patient endurance that are ours in Jesus, was on the island of Patmos because of the word of God and the testimony of Jesus. On the Lord’s Day I was in the Spirit, and I heard behind me a loud voice like a trumpet, which said: “Write on a scroll what you see and send it to the seven churches: to Ephesus, Smyrna, Pergamum, Thyatira, Sardis, Philadelphia and Laodicea.”

John connects himself to his audience by rooting this vision in his own suffering. John talks about how he received this vision while he was exiled on Patmos. By the way, many people think John was on Patmos when he wrote Revelation, but this is incorrect; John says he “was” on the island of Patmos. You don’t get a whole lot of time to write letters when you’re in exile, but John references his time on Patmos — in the midst of his own suffering — as the time when he received this vision of encouragement. Fitting.

I turned around to see the voice that was speaking to me. And when I turned I saw seven golden lampstands, and among the lampstands was someone like a son of man, dressed in a robe reaching down to his feet and with a golden sash around his chest. The hair on his head was white like wool, as white as snow, and his eyes were like blazing fire. His feet were like bronze glowing in a furnace, and his voice was like the sound of rushing waters. In his right hand he held seven stars, and coming out of his mouth was a sharp, double-edged sword. His face was like the sun shining in all its brilliance.

Let’s pull this paragraph apart. We need to quit reading these passages as westerners and realize that John is intentionally using apocalyptic literature to speak to his audience. What I’m trying to impress upon you is that John is using ancient apocalyptic books to get his material. He’s not merely accurately describing his visions (although I would assume he is). He’s doing something much bigger than that, and it’s very intentional.

“golden sash around his chest” = Apocalyptic book of Daniel

“eyes were like blazing fire” = More Daniel

“feet were like bronze glowing in a furnace” = Still Daniel

“voice was like the sound of rushing waters” = Apocalyptic vision of Ezekiel

“double-edged sword” = A reference to God from Isaiah

Also, a note about “seven stars.” This happens to be a reference from Greco-Roman culture and their pagan understandings of the Zodiac. In short, they understood the skies to be a swirling ocean and the stars (which moved, giving the impression of floating on this “ocean”) were those who had gone before. Astronomers of their day also noticed there were seven stars that did not move according to the same pattern (the Sun, the Moon, Mercury, Mars, Venus, Jupiter, and Saturn). Obviously, the Greco-Romans connected these to their pagan gods and mythology, but to say you “hold the seven stars in your hand” would be a way of saying you control the universe. It was a Roman way of saying, “I know how to get you where you want to go.”

When I saw him, I fell at his feet as though dead. Then he placed his right hand on me and said: “Do not be afraid. I am the First and the Last. I am the Living One; I was dead, and now look, I am alive for ever and ever! And I hold the keys of death and Hades.

“Write, therefore, what you have seen, what is now and what will take place later. The mystery of the seven stars that you saw in my right hand and of the seven golden lampstands is this: The seven stars are the angels of the seven churches, and the seven lampstands are the seven churches.

With another reference to the seven stars, John closes what will be the first chapter of Revelation. He also makes mention of seven lampstands, which he tells us represent the seven churches. This was a common image for a community of God’s people, the lampstand (or menorah) often symbolizing the presence of God which lives and dwells in the community of his people (especially after the destruction of the Temple in AD 70). But what we often miss is the obvious connection to the book of Zechariah.

Zechariah, one of the most apocalyptic books in Tanakh, begins with the vision of a man walking among the myrtle trees (which also symbolize the people of God). John’s play here is another obvious nod toward the Old Testament, the apocalyptic genre, and his intent throughout the book of Revelation. We will want to keep our eyes open for these plays as we go through John’s vision.

I often tell my students there is very little new material in the book of Revelation. It’s all drawing off of what was recorded before in the Old Testament. If we’ll learn this valuable lesson, we will have a much easier time understanding what we typically think is an incredibly perplexing letter.

HOLY WEEK: Judas

One of the most interesting characters in the gospels is that of Judas Iscariot. Much is thought of and projected upon this character, and I find a deeper understanding of the (at least possible) cultural setting makes this conversation much more helpful in my learning from the story. Learning from the story would be the reason to study it, rather than simply having “feelings” about the characters. I think learning about the person of Judas is what brings so much humanity to the story, the disciples, and the betrayal of Jesus.

We don’t know a whole lot about Judas until this final week of Jesus’s life. We know Judas is in charge of the money. It becomes clear that the disciples (particularly the writers of the gospels) have identified him as the betrayer. We know he has a least a pseudo-concern for the poor, although John seems to suggest Judas was a thief who would steal from the moneybag.

But what might help us the most is to examine his name, Judas Iscariot. “Iscariot” is a combination of the Hebrew ish (meaning “man”) and Cariot, which gives us “Judas, man from Cariot.” There is ample evidence to suggest this name identifies Judas as a Zealot. Knowing this about Judas could help us learn a ton about him; for instance, this would explain his pseudo-concern for the poor, as the Zealots were increasingly frustrated with the oppression of their Jewish brothers (sympathetic brothers, of course). Zealots were often thieves at heart, believing in a “Robin Hood” mentality of taking what was needed for the greater good. I can even imagine Judas immediately volunteering for the job of treasurer, in contrast to the nasty tax-collector named Levi/Matthew, whom a good Zealot would have hated immensely for everything they represent.

Nevertheless, what this would truly help us understand is the betrayal of Judas himself. It is entirely probable that Judas, after hearing Jesus’s electrified and confrontational teachings directed at the chief priests that week (a group the Zealots hated and typically sought to assassinate), misread Jesus’s intentions — as most of the disciples did — and sought to kick off this inevitable revolution by betraying Jesus into the hands of his enemies, knowing this would spark the revolt he knew was coming.

This would also offer an explanation as to why Judas is so wrecked with guilt that he will commit suicide. He completely misread the situation. When he realizes he has betrayed his rabbi and started a process that led to his execution, he cannot believe his misfortune nor bear his misdeeds.

Peter Rollins (in Fidelity of Betrayal) has gone as far as to suggest that Judas and Jesus had a prearranged agreement, that Jesus had asked Judas to betray him, knowing he would be one of the only ones with enough zeal to pull it off. While I don’t agree with this theory, it does provide some insight into why Jesus says some of the things he says to Judas that night (e.g., “What you need to do, do quickly.”). Again, I’m not sure I see enough in the gospel accounts (and elsewhere) to fully embrace this theory, but I find it interesting to consider.

At any rate, it should be noted that even Judas has a phenomenal commitment to the Text up until his last moment. Have you ever considered why Judas throws his silver coins into the Temple? How does he get in there? You don’t just run into the Temple at night (let alone during the day); of course, Zealots were known for storming the Temple courts and assassinating priests as they served. Consider the words of Zechariah as he denounced the shepherds of God’s people:

The flock detested me, and I grew weary of them and said, “I will not be your shepherd. Let the dying die, and the perishing perish. Let those who are left eat one another’s flesh.”

Then I took my staff called Favor and broke it, revoking the covenant I had made with all the nations. It was revoked on that day, and so the oppressed of the flock who were watching me knew it was the word of the LORD.

I told them, “If you think it best, give me my pay; but if not, keep it.” So they paid me thirty pieces of silver.

And the LORD said to me, “Throw it to the potter”—the handsome price at which they valued me! So I took the thirty pieces of silver and threw them to the potter at the house of the Lord.

Then I broke my second staff called Union, breaking the family bond between Judah and Israel.

Then the LORD said to me, “Take again the equipment of a foolish shepherd. For I am going to raise up a shepherd over the land who will not care for the lost, or seek the young, or heal the injured, or feed the healthy, but will eat the meat of the choice sheep, tearing off their hooves.

“Woe to the worthless shepherd,
    who deserts the flock!
May the sword strike his arm and his right eye!
    May his arm be completely withered,
    his right eye totally blinded!”

Judas responds to his plight with grand statements from the Text! How badly we need to know our whole Bibles in order to understand truly the parts that we do read!

But I continue to be struck by the realization that Jesus’s disciples thought they were staging a Zealot-like rebellion the entire time. This wasn’t only Judas’s error. Make no mistake about it: Up until Jesus’s crucifixion (and even after), the disciples are waiting for the great revolution. They think their rabbi is a Zealot. Of course, it’s easy to see how you might take a few of Jesus’s teachings and believe that — Jesus made some electrifying statements.

But it makes me wonder how often I misread the intent of Jesus. It makes me examine how often I might misunderstand what Jesus is trying to do in the world because of how I choose to hear some of his teachings while ignoring the rest.

I continue to be challenged by the story of Judas.

But is he the only betrayer?

HOLY WEEK: Judas

One of the most interesting characters in the gospels is that of Judas Iscariot. Much is thought of and projected upon this character, and I find a deeper understanding of the (at least possible) cultural setting makes this conversation much more helpful in my learning from the story. Learning from the story would be the reason to study it, rather than simply having “feelings” about the characters. I think learning about the person of Judas is what brings so much humanity to the story, the disciples, and the betrayal of Jesus.

We don’t know a whole lot about Judas until this final week of Jesus’s life. We know Judas is in charge of the money. It becomes clear that the disciples (particularly the writers of the gospels) have identified him as the betrayer. We know he has a least a pseudo-concern for the poor, although John seems to suggest Judas was a thief who would steal from the moneybag.

But what might help us the most is to examine his name, Judas Iscariot. “Iscariot” is a combination of the Hebrew ish (meaning “man”) and Cariot, which gives us “Judas, man from Cariot.” There is ample evidence to suggest this name identifies Judas as a Zealot. Knowing this about Judas could help us learn a ton about him; for instance, this would explain his pseudo-concern for the poor, as the Zealots were increasingly frustrated with the oppression of their Jewish brothers (sympathetic brothers, of course). Zealots were often thieves at heart, believing in a “Robin Hood” mentality of taking what was needed for the greater good. I can even imagine Judas immediately volunteering for the job of treasurer, in contrast to the nasty tax-collector named Levi/Matthew, whom a good Zealot would have hated immensely for everything they represent.

Nevertheless, what this would truly help us understand is the betrayal of Judas himself. It is entirely probable that Judas, after hearing Jesus’s electrified and confrontational teachings directed at the chief priests that week (a group the Zealots hated and typically sought to assassinate), misread Jesus’s intentions — as most of the disciples did — and sought to kick off this inevitable revolution by betraying Jesus into the hands of his enemies, knowing this would spark the revolt he knew was coming.

This would also offer an explanation as to why Judas is so wrecked with guilt that he will commit suicide. He completely misread the situation. When he realizes he has betrayed his rabbi and started a process that led to his execution, he cannot believe his misfortune nor bear his misdeeds.

Peter Rollins (in Fidelity of Betrayal) has gone as far as to suggest that Judas and Jesus had a prearranged agreement, that Jesus had asked Judas to betray him, knowing he would be one of the only ones with enough zeal to pull it off. While I don’t agree with this theory, it does provide some insight into why Jesus says some of the things he says to Judas that night (e.g., “What you need to do, do quickly.”). Again, I’m not sure I see enough in the gospel accounts (and elsewhere) to fully embrace this theory, but I find it interesting to consider.

At any rate, it should be noted that even Judas has a phenomenal commitment to the Text up until his last moment. Have you ever considered why Judas throws his silver coins into the Temple? How does he get in there? You don’t just run into the Temple at night (let alone during the day); of course, Zealots were known for storming the Temple courts and assassinating priests as they served. Consider the words of Zechariah as he denounced the shepherds of God’s people:

The flock detested me, and I grew weary of them and said, “I will not be your shepherd. Let the dying die, and the perishing perish. Let those who are left eat one another’s flesh.”

Then I took my staff called Favor and broke it, revoking the covenant I had made with all the nations. It was revoked on that day, and so the oppressed of the flock who were watching me knew it was the word of the LORD.

I told them, “If you think it best, give me my pay; but if not, keep it.” So they paid me thirty pieces of silver.

And the LORD said to me, “Throw it to the potter”—the handsome price at which they valued me! So I took the thirty pieces of silver and threw them to the potter at the house of the Lord.

Then I broke my second staff called Union, breaking the family bond between Judah and Israel.

Then the LORD said to me, “Take again the equipment of a foolish shepherd. For I am going to raise up a shepherd over the land who will not care for the lost, or seek the young, or heal the injured, or feed the healthy, but will eat the meat of the choice sheep, tearing off their hooves.

“Woe to the worthless shepherd,
    who deserts the flock!
May the sword strike his arm and his right eye!
    May his arm be completely withered,
    his right eye totally blinded!”

Judas responds to his plight with grand statements from the Text! How badly we need to know our whole Bibles in order to understand truly the parts that we do read!

But I continue to be struck by the realization that Jesus’s disciples thought they were staging a Zealot-like rebellion the entire time. This wasn’t only Judas’s error. Make no mistake about it: Up until Jesus’s crucifixion (and even after), the disciples are waiting for the great revolution. They think their rabbi is a Zealot. Of course, it’s easy to see how you might take a few of Jesus’s teachings and believe that — Jesus made some electrifying statements.

But it makes me wonder how often I misread the intent of Jesus. It makes me examine how often I might misunderstand what Jesus is trying to do in the world because of how I choose to hear some of his teachings while ignoring the rest.

I continue to be challenged by the story of Judas.

But is he the only betrayer?

Statement of Triumph

Matthew 21 opens with one of the records of the Triumphal Entry. We’re familiar with the images of the story and we often reenact different elements during our Palm Sunday celebrations. We know the picture of Jesus making his entrance on a donkey while people wave palm branches and shout “Hosanna!”

But a little historical context will go a long way. Jesus enters Jerusalem on the week of Passover (possibly even “Lamb Selection Day”); this week is significant because of the tension of Palestine in the Roman world. This particular region was always one of the tensest areas the Romans had to control. It was the home of the only group of people who refused to worship the emperor. This band of rebels was stubborn, stiff-necked, and naïve.

The region was one of the hardest to govern because of this headache for the Romans. You might remember Herod giving this region to his son Archelaus who didn’t last but for a breath as ruler of the region. The ruler would have to be tough, a bulldog who knew how to collect the necessary taxes and maintain peace. Immediately after the failure of Archelaus as ruler, the Romans sent in their own guy. History knows him as Pontius Pilate. 

Now Pilate did not live in Jerusalem; Israel’s “holy city” would not be the place for a dignified Roman ruler. No, Pilate made his home in Caesarea, the immaculate city of Herod the Great, built to honor the emperor. However, the week of Passover was incredibly tense. More than a million Jews would gather in the city to celebrate a feast that remembered their deliverance from the world’s greatest superpower. The last thing Rome wanted was to let this band of rebels get all riled up after a four-glasses-of-wine party and start a revolt. 

And so every year, Pilate would head south from Caesarea to Joppa and then east to Jerusalem, entering the city from the west. He would travel with great pomp and a show of force. Soldiers, trumpeters, banners, heralds, pronouncements — and Pilate riding on a white stallion that symbolizes military conquest. You could have heard him coming from miles away. The message he wanted to send to the Jews was clear: “Don’t even think about it. Keep everything under control or Rome will crush you.”

And Pilate would stay at Herod’s palace in Jerusalem until the festivities died down.

Meanwhile, on the same week (possibly even the same day), a humble Jewish rabbi rides into Jerusalem from the east with his ragtag bunch of reject disciples.

This is the picture of two kingdoms about to collide.

Pilate on his stallion; Jesus on his donkey.

Pilate with his solders; Jesus with his talmidim.

Pilate instilling fear; Jesus pronouncing favor.

Pilate and his chaos; Jesus with his order.

Pilate with his Empire; Jesus with his Shalom.

This ultimate showdown does not go unnoticed by the Jewish people gathered there on the east side of Jerusalem. The moment Jesus jumps on a donkey, each one of them recognizes the clear connection to Zechariah, a discussion we had last year.

And so the people grab palm branches (see the account in John) and begin waving them. Why palm fronds? Because the prophecy of Zechariah ends with the vision of all nations celebrating Sukkot in Jerusalem — and Sukkot is where you wave your palm fronds. 

And they begin shouting “Hosanna!” which is Hebrew for “Lord, save us!” Why do they shout this? Because the great hymn that you sing at Sukkot is Psalm 118:

     LORD, save us!
         LORD, grant us success!

     Blessed is he who comes in the name of the LORD.
         From the house of the LORD we bless you.
     The LORD is God,
         and he has made his light shine on us.
     With boughs in hand, join in the festal procession
         up to the horns of the altar.

     You are my God, and I will praise you;
         you are my God, and I will exalt you.

     Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good;
         his love endures forever.

Because of these passages, the palm frond had become the symbol of the Zealot party and of political revolution. According to Roman history, shaking a palm frond in public was a crucifiable offense.

The people are calling out for a revolution. They see the statement Jesus is making about kingship and they are ready for their king! They give him their support and their praise.

And Jesus cries.

We know from the other accounts that Jesus will look over Jerusalem and he will cry, saying, “Jerusalem, Jerusalem! If only you knew what would bring you peace.”

They had forgotten part of the prophecy in Zechariah:

     Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion!

         Shout, Daughter Jerusalem!

     See, your king comes to you,

         righteous and victorious,

     lowly and riding on a donkey,

         on a colt, the foal of a donkey.

     I will take away the chariots from Ephraim

         and the warhorses from Jerusalem,

         and the battle bow will be broken.

     He will proclaim peace to the nations.

         His rule will extend from sea to sea

         and from the River to the ends of the earth.

And I’ve always been amazed that every year, we hand our children palm fronds and have them reenact the very scene that made our Savior weep.

But this isn’t what actually haunts me. I’m sure Jesus is able to see the statement we are making with our hearts as we sing the words “Hosanna!” in spite of ourselves. I think he accepts the worship we are offering.

What haunts me is the question of which kingdom I really want.

I say I want the Kingdom of God, but I’m not sure I’m willing to pay the price. I say I love forgiveness, but there are far too many days where I find myself on the side of the road, clutching a palm frond and shouting for a revolution that comes with my kind of power and my kind of might. 

And I think we need to ask some questions, because I think our political agendas and methods would make Jesus weep. I think our thirst for power, influence, and a particular kind of security would cause Jesus to lament over our cities and our country. I think far too much of our American culture has us standing at the west side of Jerusalem, not the east.

What’s interesting is that in two of the accounts, we are told there are two donkeys, which is interesting because Jesus only rides one. And while this might be an effort to make the account line up with the prophecy of Zechariah, Jewish literature and teaching will often employ this tool as they tell stories. You may remember that Matthew has two demon-possessed men in the Decapolis; he also has two blind men receiving their healing. The rabbis tell us that a teacher will often insert an additional character into the story as a way of inviting you into a moment of decision.

In the story of the two blind men and demoniacs, you are being invited into the story. If you were the other demoniac, what would you do?

There are two donkeys in the Triumphal Entry.

Jesus rides into Jerusalem, not to conquer, but to die. He rides in to bring true peace that might last for an eternity, not a political peace that will last only for now. He rides in to restore relationships and reconcile all things, not to establish a country club.

As you watch Jesus tearfully ride to his death, you see him glance over his shoulder at the riderless donkey and you are faced with a question: Which kingdom do you really want?

He invites you to ride with him into a Kingdom that is built on different values.

MALACHI: Q & A

The frustrations and struggles that are dealt with in the Remnant, especially those spoken to in Haggai and Zechariah, eventually boil over and find their fruition in the decades that follow the restoration of Jerusalem. To put it simply, the people are disappointed that things didn’t turn out like they had dreamed. They didn’t come back and restore a glorious kingdom. God didn’t give them all of their land and sovereignty back. In fact, their experience was quite the opposite.

What appeared to be a turning of the tables with the kingdom of Persia happened to become a simple reshuffling of the items on the table. Some of the earlier oppression got better, only to be replaced by a much more subtle oppression that is harder to identify and fight. Instead of being physically persecuted and militarily dominated, they find themselves being enticed into a system that controls you from the inside out. Instead of being forced into physical servitude, you are forced into a cultural servitude that destroys your will to subvert the idolatry all around you. Instead of being robbed of your material possessions, you are robbed of your identity as partners of God.

This brave new world isn’t all it was cracked up to be — it rarely is.

The people mourn this loss and their situation. They begin to lose hope and lose the determination and inspiration that’s needed to subvert the ways of empire all around them. And so their struggles to walk the path well continue.

Ever been there? Have you ever found yourself longing for “the good ol’ days”? Do you ever get caught up in a wave of nostalgia and find yourself wishing that things could go back to the way they were?

Well, they can’t. They never can. Time only moves forward; you can never go backward. Instead, you have to think about all the possibilities that might lie before you in a new reality. If God is for us… if we trust the story… if we’re people of the Resurrection and new tomorrows and the Repairer of Broken Walls… then our best days must lie out in front of us, never behind us.

Rabbi David Fohrman recently gave a parsha teaching on the importance of what happens when we begin to lose hope. Is hope really irrational? In it, he brought up an amazing point:

“Do we imagine new tomorrows or do we lie to ourselves about a better past?”

I have realized that I have often lied to myself about a past that never was. I begin to think that “the good ol’ days” were far better than they actually were. And I’ve noticed that when I begin to believe this, I start to live much more poorly in the present. I begin to fall into bad attitudes and bad habits. Quite frankly, I find myself beginning to fall into the sins of the past, as well.

I believe this is what is happening to God’s people in the time of Malachi. And Malachi has been sent (or somebody has; malachi literally means “my messenger.” Some have argued that it isn’t even a name, but a reference to some nameless prophet) to shake the people out of their foolish nostalgia. Malachi does this by painting the picture of a dialogue between God and His people. They have a thorough Q&A interview process:

“A son honors his father, and a slave his master. If I am a father, where is the honor due me? If I am a master, where is the respect due me?” says the LORD Almighty.

“It is you priests who show contempt for my name.

“But you ask, ‘How have we shown contempt for your name?’

“By offering defiled food on my altar.

“But you ask, ‘How have we defiled you?’

“By saying that the LORD’s table is contemptible. When you offer blind animals for sacrifice, is that not wrong? When you sacrifice lame or diseased animals, is that not wrong? Try offering them to your governor! Would he be pleased with you? Would he accept you?” says the LORD Almighty.

Or later:

Another thing you do: You flood the LORD’s altar with tears. You weep and wail because he no longer looks with favor on your offerings or accepts them with pleasure from your hands. You ask, “Why?” It is because the LORD is the witness between you and the wife of your youth. You have been unfaithful to her, though she is your partner, the wife of your marriage covenant.

Or even later:

“I the LORD do not change. So you, the descendants of Jacob, are not destroyed. Ever since the time of your ancestors you have turned away from my decrees and have not kept them. Return to me, and I will return to you,” says the LORD Almighty.

“But you ask, ‘How are we to return?’

“Will a mere mortal rob God? Yet you rob me.

“But you ask, ‘How are we robbing you?’

“In tithes and offerings. You are under a curse—your whole nation—because you are robbing me. Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. Test me in this,” says the LORD Almighty, “and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that there will not be room enough to store it. I will prevent pests from devouring your crops, and the vines in your fields will not drop their fruit before it is ripe,” says the LORD Almighty. “Then all the nations will call you blessed, for yours will be a delightful land,” says the LORD Almighty.

“You have spoken arrogantly against me,” says the LORD.

“Yet you ask, ‘What have we said against you?’

“You have said, ‘It is futile to serve God. What do we gain by carrying out his requirements and going about like mourners before the LORD Almighty? But now we call the arrogant blessed. Certainly evildoers prosper, and even when they put God to the test, they get away with it.’ ”

But this time, God’s people hear the message of God’s messenger. We are told that there WERE people who belonged to a faithful remnant. They marked the moment by writing a scroll of remembrance and God marked the moment with a promise that extends through the final chapter of the prophet:

Then those who feared the LORD talked with each other, and the LORD listened and heard. A scroll of remembrance was written in his presence concerning those who feared the LORD and honored his name.

“On the day when I act,” says the LORD Almighty, “they will be my treasured possession. I will spare them, just as a father has compassion and spares his son who serves him. And you will again see the distinction between the righteous and the wicked, between those who serve God and those who do not.”

That day, God once again found a partner. Sometimes it’s simply 7,000 people who haven’t bowed the knee to Baal in the midst of a nation corrupted with idolatry. Sometimes it’s a small group of twenty people who could save a city like Sodom and Gomorrah. Sometimes it’s just a few people, serving in the presence of a frustrated people who are losing hope, who put their names on a scroll and set out to become people of the promise.
I wonder what it would take for us to be a part of a faithful remnant.

ZECHARIAH: Apocalyptic Literature

One of Haggai’s contemporaries (maybe even a well-known acquaintance) was the prophet Zechariah. When one does the dating of the return of Ezra-Nehemiah and considers that they are referred to as “young men” in their prophecies, it stands to reason that Haggai and Zechariah were toddlers when the first few waves of returnees hit the ground in Jerusalem. To give these prophets some “real life context,” these two boys grew up in the mess and struggle that was the Remnant.

While Haggai’s ministry is short and sweet, Zechariah’s ministry spans a few decades. Zechariah gives consistent images that are meant to inspire the people to push forward into the future God has ahead of them. Zechariah is another prophet who will employ very heavy and intentional use of apocalyptic literature. As we’ve mentioned before, apocalyptic literature utilizes symbols and images to convey hope to their present day. And at the risk of repeating myself from our Ezekiel discussion (it’s worth it; this is important), apocalyptic literature is not trying to map out visions of the “end times” and lay out blueprints for the future. That is simply not how apocalyptic literature functions. Whether God decides to do things in the future in a way that lines up with these prophesies (something God loves to do — He loves to reference His own book) is up to Him, but the inspired prophecy of Zechariah is not primarily about our future world.

On the contrary, Zechariah is a prophecy about the remnant that has returned and the need for them to persevere in the face of imperial rule. Trying to rebuild the glory of “the good ol’ days” while you sit under the control of a Persian government begins to weigh on a person’s psyche. Zechariah tells them to hold on, and he does it by employing metaphors, visions, and images.

As is true with much apocalyptic literature, the pictures are often full of symbols that represent God and His people, the trials of the audience, and the eventual triumph of God’s good agenda. Also typical of apocalyptic literature, the prophecy begins with images that encourage faithfulness and endurance, and then moves to close the prophecy with the assuring proclamation that a new kingdom, a new reality, and a new ruler is on the way. Zechariah is quite insistent that if God’s people will persevere, their future king will come to them. But for now, they must walk obediently the path that lies before them — the path through Persia.

Having a grasp on apocalyptic literature and the movement of the prophet allows us to read books like Zechariah and understand them. We love to cherry-pick passages from Zechariah that fit our needs for a good proof text, but we rarely find these passages used in context. For example, one of the most famous passages from Zechariah is the humble king who comes riding on a donkey:

Rejoice greatly, Daughter Zion!
    Shout, Daughter Jerusalem!
See, your king comes to you,
    righteous and victorious,
lowly and riding on a donkey,
    on a colt, the foal of a donkey.
I will take away the chariots from Ephraim
    and the warhorses from Jerusalem,
    and the battle bow will be broken.
He will proclaim peace to the nations.
    His rule will extend from sea to sea
    and from the River to the ends of the earth.

The sun has not set on too many Palm Sundays without that verse being quoted at least once — and for good reason. However, what we often fail to understand is what Zechariah’s original intent was when he prophesied those words. Zechariah was insisting that if God’s people would find a way to live obediently within empire, God would send them rescue. And this rescue wouldn’t come through armies and military might, but by God’s divine providence.

They would see their king rise to power through humility.

Sound familiar? And no, I’m not talking about Jesus. We will certainly address this later, but at this point in the story, Jesus isn’t here yet. We have to hear this story in its original context in order to appreciate what Jesus will do with it.

And if the people of God will walk in obedience — even in the midst of Persia — God will do something in the world that will destroy the weapons of war and the chariots of oppression.

One final note before we’re done: It’s worth noting that almost all the images of Zechariah will show up later in the book of Revelation. John will end up taking the apocalyptic images of the Tanakh and use them to craft his own message to the early church.

Zechariah’s prophecy starts with a man walking among the myrtle trees; Revelation starts with a man walking among the lampstands.

Zechariah speaks of the horns that were sounded to scatter Israel; Revelation speaks of trumpets that are sounded to usher in destruction and rescue.

Zechariah speaks of a measuring line used to measure Jerusalem; the same image is employed in Revelation at the end of the vision.

Zechariah talks about clean garments of the high priests; John tells us about a multitude in clean, white robes.

Zechariah tells us about scrolls; so does John.

Zechariah speaks of a woman in a basket; Revelation speaks of a woman on a beast.

Zechariah contains the vision of four horses drawing chariots; so does Revelation.

And yet, we stand around and wring our hands and moan about how the book of Revelation is so vague and complex and hard to understand. Everything in Revelation has already been said centuries before. Maybe it would help if we became familiar with the Hebrew scriptures that John is quoting — just a thought.

I think it’s time to get in the Text.