REVELATION: Two Witnesses, Two Lampstands, Two Olive Trees

Revelation 11 is one of those chapters where we really get to put our growing knowledge of apocalyptic literature to work. It’s full of numbers, images, and references that make our heads spin. While it typically offers confusion, hopefully we have learned to ask a new set of questions to help us sort it out and put it back into its appropriate context. Let’s begin:

Then I was given a measuring rod like a staff, and I was told, “Rise and measure the temple of God and the altar and those who worship there, but do not measure the court outside the temple; leave that out, for it is given over to the nations, and they will trample the holy city for forty-two months. And I will grant authority to my two witnesses, and they will prophesy for 1,260 days, clothed in sackcloth.”

First, this setup is a repeat of the prophesy of Ezekiel (check out chapters 40-42), and it won’t be the only direct reference to the major prophet. If this observation is beginning to sound like a broken record, it’s because you’re now starting to notice what should be apparent as we read apocalyptic literature! I know that I’ve said it before, but I really want to help us see this and be reminded appropriately of its significance. John is trying to pull his readers (especially his Jewish readers) back to the message of Ezekiel and let them be encouraged by a prophet who has come before.

But then John moves toward a conversation about two witnesses. I can remember where this conversation took me as a young adolescent who was enamored by the Left Behind series. Theories point toward these fantastical ideas of two individuals who will play a special part in the end times. The problem is that not only are such quick assumptions and conclusions ignorant of authorial intent, they also ignore the context of the passage. Any Jew in the first century who spoke of “two witnesses” would have immediately thought of the two witnesses dominant in Jewish history — Moses and Elijah. You might remember our study of the Transfiguration.

This idea of two authorities bearing witness to the coming of a new Kingdom was far from a new idea. Is this relevant to our interpretation of Revelation? I would certainly think so! But then the passage goes on to give us even more detail:

These are the two olive trees and the two lampstands that stand before the Lord of the earth. And if anyone would harm them, fire pours from their mouth and consumes their foes. If anyone would harm them, this is how he is doomed to be killed. They have the power to shut the sky, that no rain may fall during the days of their prophesying, and they have power over the waters to turn them into blood and to strike the earth with every kind of plague, as often as they desire.

Immediately I notice the reference to these two witnesses having the power to shut up the sky so no rain would fall. And who was it to do such a thing? Elijah. And if you remember from our teaching, who was Elijah quoting when he “bound God to His Text”? Moses. It would seem that John really is working with this idea after all. But not only this, John gave us more details about these two witnesses. In reference to them (John uses “these,” the first word in the passage above), John says they are the two olive trees and the two lampstands. We’ve spoken before about how olive trees and lampstands symbolize the community of God’s people.

One of the things John keeps doing is pulling out visions of two where you would expect there to be one. Instead of there being 12 elders, as you might expect (symbolizing God’s people, the 12 tribes), there are 24. Not only does this match up nicely with the context of the Roman world, but I personally believe it alludes to the “other half” of God’s people. We have noted all throughout our study of the New Testament that the dominant issue being dealt with in the early church is the inclusion of the Gentiles. I believe John throws in multiple references of a “doubled” communal number to point out that God’s people includes both Jews and Gentiles. There are 24 elders, there are two olive trees, and there are two lampstands.

This also means John is inferring that the unified body of Christ — Jew and Gentile together — serves as God’s witnesses in the world. They have power beyond what they know — power to bring life or destruction. Their testimony, lived out as a people, will be as powerful as the testimony of Moses and Elijah.

And when they have finished their testimony, the beast that rises from the bottomless pit will make war on them and conquer them and kill them, and their dead bodies will lie in the street of the great city that symbolically is called Sodom and Egypt, where their Lord was crucified. For three and a half days some from the peoples and tribes and languages and nations will gaze at their dead bodies and refuse to let them be placed in a tomb, and those who dwell on the earth will rejoice over them and make merry and exchange presents, because these two prophets had been a torment to those who dwell on the earth. But after the three and a half days a breath of life from God entered them, and they stood up on their feet, and great fear fell on those who saw them. Then they heard a loud voice from heaven saying to them, “Come up here!” And they went up to heaven in a cloud, and their enemies watched them. And at that hour there was a great earthquake, and a tenth of the city fell. Seven thousand people were killed in the earthquake, and the rest were terrified and gave glory to the God of heaven.

It seems as though their witness and testimony is useless, because they appear to be destroyed — killed and left for dead. Fitting to the context of the original hearers/readers? Absolutely. This is the world they live in; but John is encouraging them to overcome. He says that later, after three and a half days (exactly half of seven — a Jewish and apocalyptic way of saying, “a significant time, but not forever; there is an end”), they are resurrected and taken to God in the clouds. Rather than being a futuristic recipe for rapture, this is another reference to Elijah.

My point is this: it is not reasonable to believe the early readers of Revelation saw this as a futuristic rendering of “things to come,” but instead an obvious play to things past. They realized the message of encouragement John was sending their way.

Then the seventh angel blew his trumpet, and there were loud voices in heaven, saying, “The kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ, and he shall reign forever and ever.” And the twenty-four elders who sit on their thrones before God fell on their faces and worshiped God, saying,

“We give thanks to you, Lord God Almighty,
    who is and who was,
for you have taken your great power
    and begun to reign.
The nations raged,
    but your wrath came,
    and the time for the dead to be judged,
and for rewarding your servants, the prophets and saints,
    and those who fear your name,
    both small and great,
and for destroying the destroyers of the earth.”

Then God’s temple in heaven was opened, and the ark of his covenant was seen within his temple. There were flashes of lightning, rumblings, peals of thunder, an earthquake, and heavy hail.

And with that, John brings us back to the Great Games, where the two kingdoms are locked in what seems to be an endless struggle and competition. Who will win? John the Baptist announced to us that the Kingdom of God had arrived. Jesus picked up the same banner, telling us the Kingdom was among us. In fact, John says, we do find ourselves in that era where the two kingdoms coexist. But there is coming a time when those kingdoms will be put to the test and judgment will be rendered.

John says that time has now come. Will God’s people stand sure and persevere? This is the question of John’s apocalyptic letter.

Really?!

Acts 5 brings us to one of the most disturbing stories in the account of Acts. It’s the story of Ananias and Sapphira and what appears to be a moment where God breaks out of character and loses His mind. I’ll admit that this story is disturbing to me, as well, and I feel as though it should be. (I would direct you back to some of the tension I felt in the story of the conquest; much of it is true here, too.)

And again, there are a few things that make me pause to be sure I’m stripping my assumptions out of my approach to the story. What does the Text say and what does it NOT say? For example, God’s voice is strangely silent in this story, while Peter does an awful lot of talking. While I’m not necessarily suggesting Peter is out of line or out of God’s will in his actions, it does seem strangely reminiscent of the story of Elijah and the chutzpah he demonstrates in his declaration that it won’t rain.

But such a suggestion may be a stretch, so let’s assume God is in fact behind the words of Peter’s condemnation. It would be wise of us to notice this isn’t the first time we’ve seen an action like this in the narrative of God.

Of course, it would also be wise to notice these stories are so out of character for God that it causes us to ask serious questions. This is not the default posture of God toward His people. When stories like these show up, they remind us it is by far the exception and not the rule. They also remind us God is not a character interested in fitting into any of our tight and tidy boxes we’ve created for Him.

I can count the stories that come to mind on one hand. I think of names like Nadab, Abihu, and Uzzah as examples. Let’s deal with a few of these. If this is not the default posture of God and such an exception to the rule, then why the exception? Hearing stories like these causes the reader to throw up their hands and cry, “Really?! Doesn’t that seem like a bit much?”

One of the first stories like this we run into is an odd story in the book of Leviticus (chapter 10) where two of Aaron’s sons try to offer “common” fire before the LORD. (This is the correct Hebrew translation; many translations of the Text will use “profane” here, and then translate the same Hebrew word as “common” only a few verses later.) Apparently the issue is Nadab and Abihu were not doing the work of discerning the “common” from the “holy” — the secular from the sacred. This is one of the first lessons God is trying to teach His brand new priests. Nadab and Abihu fail to take things seriously and God responds by setting a standard.

The entire mission of God will depend on His priests being able to teach the larger “kingdom of priests” (Israel) how to discern light from darkness in the world around them. If they fail to learn this lesson — if the story of God is corrupted before it even gets off the ground…

And that seems to be the crux of these stories. God’s reactions, which seem so out of character, come because these are critical moments in the history of His people. If the mission is lost before the first step is even taken, the result will not be the redemption of the world and restoration of mishpat, but continued disorder and chaos.

The next story is found in Numbers 15. After the story of the Golden Calf, the giving of the Law at Sinai, and the construction of the Tabernacle (which was a mobile reminder of the creation/Sabbath story), one of the first stories we are told is of a nameless character who refuses to observe the Sabbath. The community brings in the offender, not knowing how to handle the offense, and God hands down a judgment of capital punishment. Again, at a critical juncture for His people, God is serious about this Sabbath business. He’s setting a standard of holiness.

Again, later in the story, after the conquest of the city of Jericho, Achan and his family are stoned to death after refusing to follow the instructions of total dedication to the LORD. And again, the story comes at the beginning of a critical chapter in the history of God’s people.

In the book of Acts, I see the story of Ananias and Sapphira mirroring those stories in big ways.

As in the story of Nadab and Abihu, God just built a new Temple (the people of God).

As in the story of the Sabbath-breaker of Numbers 15, God just put the law in the hearts of His people in a Pentecost story that retold the story of Sinai.

As in the story of Achan, God is leading His people into a completely new kind of conquest.

And in come priests who don’t want to take it seriously. Here come people who aren’t going to tell the truth about the promises of God. They say they want to give it all to God, but they hide some of what’s rightfully His under their tents.

I guess I’m not really sure how to end this post. I have no eloquent line to make this all seem poetic.

But I do think we dabble in the mission of God. I think the curse of our brand of American Christianity is that we like to say one thing, while we do another. And I’m glad that in my life, I haven’t experienced the exception of the rule, because I certainly know I’m guilty of these offenses myself.

I want to realize God takes His mission to put the world back together very seriously. May God have the mercy to continue to teach us where we need to grow up and burn away the garbage in our hearts. May we be coachable students who have wide eyes, sitting on the edge of our chairs with attentive humility, ready to learn with a reverent awe for the work of God.

Far too often, I’ve been the slouching student in the back of the room staring at the clock.

Truth and Light

** I am completely indebted to my time with Ray VanderLaan for the insight into this teaching.

The story of the Mount of Transfiguration has been a story of great orthodox significance and personal quandary. Other than the glorification of Christ (which is an incredible moment, no doubt), this story seemed to be missing a meaningful aspect driving it like so many other stories in the gospels. Not only this, but there is a case to be made that more than one of the gospels is chiastic (I’m not completely sold on this idea, yet); if this is the case, then the story of the Transfiguration would sit at the center of those chiasms.

Nevertheless, since we’re used to asking the question, I’m sure we can waste no time in diving right in.

Let me identify the following seven characteristics in the story of the Transfiguration:

1) There is a “high mountain.”

2) There are three people taken with the leader.

3) A cloud covers the mountain.

4) Glory is on the mountain and a figure’s appearance is changed.

5) The glory “settles” on the mountain.

6) This all happens after “six days.”

7) God speaks.

Do these details remind you of any other story in the Tanakh?

These are all details that are shared in Moses’s journey up Mt. Sinai.

Enter into the story Peter’s voice, declaring a desire to build three Tabernacles.

And this is where we butcher Peter. In lesson after lesson and sermon after sermon, we talk about how Peter — the bumbling idiot — doesn’t know what to say and so he just blurts out idiotic nonsense.

Not the case here. Ironically, I think Peter knows his Text better than we do.

What is the next thing to happen in the story after Moses spends time on Mt. Sinai? They build the Tabernacle.

Whoops! Sorry Peter.

A lot of people assume God interrupts Peter in an effort to chastise his loose tongue. However, if you check your Text, you will find God never addresses Peter at all; there is simply God's voice from the cloud. Not only this, but the voice from the cloud says, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well-pleased. Listen to him!” What many of us don’t realize is that God shows up and quotes all three parts of His book!

“This is my son” — Psalm 2, from the Ketuvim (the Writings)

“Whom I love … [and] I am well-pleased” — Isaiah 42, from the Nevi’im (the Prophets)

“Listen to him” — Deuteronomy 18, from the Torah

The midrash taught that when Messiah comes, one of the ways we would know it’s him is that all three parts of the Tanakh would testify about him.

I love that when God speaks, He quotes His own book. Awesome!

Now, I know it says in Luke that “Peter didn’t know what he was saying,” but that statement in the Greek can be applied in a few different ways, not to mention that the entire statement seems to be a marginal (or at least parenthetical) addition to the story itself. Not only this, but let’s talk a little about the midrash and see if you think Peter isn’t a genius (maybe without even realizing it).

The story makes a point of telling us that Jesus is seen hanging out on the mountain with Elijah and Moses. What’s interesting about that is there are lots of stories in the midrash about Messiah and Elijah being together. There are also lots of stories about Messiah and Moses being together. However, there are only two stories of all three being in the same place at the same time. One of those stories is the New Testament account(s) in the gospels. The other is a midrash that predates Jesus by about 80 years.

This particular teaching comes as a conversation surrounding Psalm 43 (and 42). In it, the Psalmist says the following:

Vindicate me, O God, and defend my cause    against an ungodly people,from the deceitful and unjust man    deliver me!For you are the God in whom I take refuge;    why have you rejected me?Why do I go about mourning    because of the oppression of the enemy?
Send out your light and your truth;
    let them lead me;
let them bring me to your holy hill
    and to your dwelling!
Then I will go to the altar of God,
    to God my exceeding joy,
and I will praise you with the lyre,
    O God, my God.
Why are you cast down, O my soul,
    and why are you in turmoil within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
    my salvation and my God.

As the Psalmist cries out for deliverance, he pleads for God to send him His truth and His light. Now, what is the Psalmist asking for in that? The midrash teaches that God’s truth is seen in Moses, the giver of Torah, and in the prophet Elijah, who had such great passion for truth. But who is light? Well, the midrash quotes Isaiah 42 (the same one God quoted) and says Messiah is the “Light” of God that is sent forth. So, the midrash concludes, when you are in trouble, pray for Moses, pray for Elijah, and pray for Messiah.

The next line of the Psalm says these figures will lead the Psalmist to God’s holy mountain, the place where He dwells. The word for dwell is the same root word for “tabernacle.”

Maybe “Peter didn’t realize what he was saying.” Maybe he did. But… whoa.

That’s an amazing teaching buried in the story of the Transfiguration. And while I still don’t know exactly where to land the plane (so be prepared for an awkward blog post ending), I do know there is A LOT MORE going on in this story than I ever realized. 

I do know that I need to know my Text more. So join me as I try to follow in the footsteps of a disciple who could — in the midst of seeing Moses and Elijah — have the awareness to realize he’s experiencing Text and wants to enter into the story.

Jesus Resorts to Name-Calling

Jesus finally manages to do what he’s been trying to do for some time in the story — pull away and get some alone time for a little rest and solitude. In order to find it, he has to travel to the far north, into the land of Syrophonecia. This is the land of the Gentiles and no longer the land of his Jewish brethren. But at least it provides a chance to catch some space to breathe.

But his breather doesn’t last long.

It takes merely two verses to explain that Jesus encounters a Gentile woman. (Matthew goes to the trouble of using the terms of biblical history, calling her a Canaanite and referring to the region as “Tyre and Sidon”; Mark does not do this, using instead the more modern, Roman terms in calling her a Syrophonecian.) She begins begging Jesus to heal her daughter.

Jesus ignores her.

She keeps begging. The disciples ask him to do something about the situation.

Jesus tells her that it’s not his job to help Gentiles.

Ouch.

She continues to beg him.

He reiterates his response, this time in slightly stronger language: “It is not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs.”

Wait, did Jesus just call her a dog?

It would be good to point out something we mentioned in a previous post: It was cultural slang in the first-century Jewish world to refer to the Gentiles as dogs or pigs. Seen in this light, the reader can understand that Jesus is simply reiterating his previous point: I am here to work with the Jewish people; I’m trying to catch a breather here.

But this explanation still doesn’t satisfy for the rest of this passage. The woman responds with the following words:

“Yes, Lord, but even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.”

At this, Jesus is astounded. “Woman, you have great faith!” And he grants her request.

What just took place there? What turned Jesus’s opinion on its head in a single sentence?

Before I answer that, I would like you to entertain a possibility in your head. I’d like you to consider the idea that Jesus LEARNS things, that he can be unaware of a certain truth. I would never take away from Jesus’s divinity or divine nature for one moment; I believe Jesus is 100% divine and affirm historic Christian orthodoxy. But, I also believe that while he is God, Philippians 2 teaches us that he set the God-nature aside and came to function as a man.

Hebrews tells us that Jesus learned obedience. In the gospel of John, Jesus says, “Everything I have learned from my father, I have made known to you.”

I would like to suggest that Jesus learned things in his human nature.

I believe this is important here, because one day I was studying this passage over in Israel with Ray Vander Laan and he suggested it is in this story that Jesus realizes he is here for the Gentiles, too. And I think Ray nails it.

So, back to my question: What just turned Jesus’s opinion on its head in a single sentence? 

Well, as we’ve seen before, I believe the answer is in the Text. One of the things we never notice as western readers is geography. Even after I pointed out where this story took place, I’m certain that very, very few of you realized another story took place in this exact same location. It was the story of Elijah staying with the widow at Zarephath (1 Kings 17:7–24). 

Now, if we recall the story, we will notice this is the story of Elijah and a Phonecian woman who will end up having a son who needs healing. The entire time Elijah stays with the woman, God miraculously continues to provide biscuits for the household. The biscuits He provides are simply a starvation ration of biscuits. Not only this, but there are two biblical characters who will dominate the conversation around the Hebrew word for “master” (which shares a root with the term used later for “rabbi”).

So the widow in Elijah’s story literally ends up eating crumbs from the master’s table.

The woman in the story of Jesus knows her Text. And it blows him away.

You may find this to be a hard sell, but give me a little time to show you what comes next in the story.

An Explosive Kingdom Realized

However, don’t be deceived into thinking that Jesus is particularly fond of putting John the Baptist in his place. He is not. He turns to the crowds and appears to be a little riled up after His interaction with John’s disciples. While John’s disciples are leaving (making the reader think that they still might be within earshot), Jesus begins quite the monologue:

As John’s disciples were leaving, Jesus began to speak to the crowd about John: “What did you go out into the wilderness to see? A reed swayed by the wind? If not, what did you go out to see? A man dressed in fine clothes? No, those who wear fine clothes are in kings’ palaces. Then what did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet. This is the one about whom it is written:

“ ‘I will send my messenger ahead of you,
    who will prepare your way before you.’

Truly I tell you, among those born of women there has not risen anyone greater than John the Baptist; yet whoever is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.

That would be a pretty good epitaph to have on your tombstone. Jesus is far from dissing a cousin, a good friend, and a possible rabbi. But then, Jesus offers a teaching confounding many Bible students to this day:

From the days of John the Baptist until now, the kingdom of heaven has been subjected to violence, and violent people have been raiding it. For all the Prophets and the Law prophesied until John. And if you are willing to accept it, he is the Elijah who was to come. Whoever has ears, let them hear.

Violently advancing? Violent men take hold of it? I thought the kingdom of God was like a mustard seed and we were on a mission to love our enemies, be on a mission of mercy, and offer forgiveness. Violent men?

While the Greek is translated correctly here, some context will be rather helpful. The Greek word that is used here is biastes. It is used in the Septuagint to translate the Hebrew word pratz. There was a young Hebrew boy in the Old Testament who was named after pratz; we translate his name “Perez.” Perez was one of the sons of Judah and Tamar. You may remember the story (found in Genesis 38) where Tamar becomes pregnant with twins. As the first son begins to emerge, they tie a red cord around his wrist; the marked wrist disappears back into the womb and the second twin “explodes” out of the womb ahead of the other. They named him “Exploder” or Perez.

This is one case where I believe we find evidence that Matthew was written in Hebrew. If this passage was contracted from Hebrew, the word here would be pratz. This would mean that an appropriate understanding of this teaching would be that the kingdom has been “exploding” and “explosive” men take hold of it.

It’s a nice theory, Marty, but you don’t get to arbitrarily make decisions about translation.

No, but there’s more evidence in the Text. Jesus says that people who have ears should hear — a rabbinical clue that Jesus has buried something from the Text in His teaching. He says that John is the “Elijah who was to come.” One of the main passages that speaks of this “Elijah to come” was found in the prophesy of Micah. This is especially interesting, since Jesus just finished teaching on Micah earlier. The prophesy reads like this:

“I will surely gather all of you, Jacob;
    I will surely bring together the remnant of Israel.
I will bring them together like sheep in a pen,
    like a flock in its pasture;
    the place will throng with people.
The One who breaks open the way will go up before them;
    they will break through the gate and go out.
Their King will pass through before them,
    the Lord at their head.”

God speaks of gathering His people together who have been penned up in captivity. A gathered flock of sheep that have been penned up in a sheepfold for some time are a real antsy bunch. Some of us may have experienced letting a herd of cattle out into pasture after a long haul or a season in another overgrazed pasture. The “one who breaks open the way” could easily be read in the Hebrew as NOT the same person as the King/LORD mentioned later. In this picture, the “Elijah to come” will be the character who kicks open the gate of the sheepfold. The gate “breaks open” and the sheep “break through” the gate.

The word for “break open” and “break through”? Pratz.

The kingdom is EXPLODING FORWARD and EXPLOSIVE MEN take hold of it. Jesus casts the vision of God’s people in His day like a flock of sheep in a sheepfold. “From the days of John the Baptist until now…” John has come to kick open the gate of the sheepfold and ever since he started his ministry, people who have been waiting for the kingdom have been breaking forth — exploding forward — to do God’s will.

It leads to an observation that the Kingdom isn’t something we sit back and contemplate intellectually in a classroom (although there is a time and place for that). The kingdom is something that is explosive and it’s something that explosive people take part in. We don’t lazily strut through the gates of the kingdom. We don’t prance into the way of God. It’s something that we should be champing at the bit to take part in, just waiting for the opportunity to rush out into the open fields.

It’s an explosive kingdom. Am I an explosive participant?

Tavilah T’shuvah

One of the ways that the gospel writers introduce us to Jesus is by setting the stage with the “stage setter” himself, John the Baptist. Matthew starts out chapter three this way:

In those days John the Baptist came, preaching in the wilderness of Judea and saying, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” This is he who was spoken of through the prophet Isaiah:

“A voice of one calling in the wilderness,

‘Prepare the way for the Lord,
    make straight paths for him.’ ”

John’s clothes were made of camel’s hair, and he had a leather belt around his waist. His food was locusts and wild honey. People went out to him from Jerusalem and all Judea and the whole region of the Jordan. Confessing their sins, they were baptized by him in the Jordan River.

Matthew describes this character who is pursuing the life of being that voice crying out in the desert. This figure is a man of rustic character, wearing camel’s hair with a leather belt around his waist. The question is raised in the mind of the reader: Who is this man? Is he a mad man? Why would he be wearing such a distinct outfit.

It’s in the Text. Second Kings 1 to be exact:

When the messengers returned to the king, he asked them, “Why have you come back?”

“A man came to meet us,” they replied. “And he said to us, ‘Go back to the king who sent you and tell him, “This is what the Lord says: Is it because there is no God in Israel that you are sending messengers to consult Baal-Zebub, the god of Ekron? Therefore you will not leave the bed you are lying on. You will certainly die!” ’ ”

The king asked them, “What kind of man was it who came to meet you and told you this?”

They replied, “He had a garment of hair and had a leather belt around his waist.”

The king said, “That was Elijah the Tishbite.”

John the Baptist showed up wearing his Elijah costume. When the king heard the description of the “man” who had spoken to the messengers, he immediately knew who they were describing. Apparently, people knew about Elijah and how he dressed. John the Baptist is making the claim that he is a prophetic Elijah figure. If John the Baptist was a western American, he would stand on a chair and declare that he thought he was Elijah. He would then give his defense in a three-point treatise where all three points started with the same letter.

John the Baptist isn’t a westerner, however; he is an easterner. And so he shows up wearing his Elijah costume.

His message is one that Elijah would resonate with, as well. It would be helpful to go back and review the teaching about Elijah here.

John the Baptist shows up and calls everyone to repentance. We’re told that entire crowds come out to be baptized. In the gospel of Luke, we are told about the characters in this crowd. Some are tax collectors, some are soldiers, many are cultural outcasts. Some students of the Text have pointed out it is possible John was performing mikveh for a bunch of people who were not allowed to perform mikveh at the Temple. This would be easy to swallow considering John is the son of Zechariah, and very possibly a product of the Essenes (maybe even the Essenes at Qumran).

John stands in the water and invites people to a “baptism of repentance” — what is called tavilah t’shuvah. This mikveh was an Essene baptism. While the Pharisees performed mikveh as a regular, ritual cleansing, the Essenes performed a baptism of repentance. It required that the baptized be truly repentant BEFORE they enter the water. John is calling the people to change their behavior and mark this repentance with the waters of mikveh.

And then, John looks up to see the Pharisees and Sadducees:

But when he saw many of the Pharisees and Sadducees coming to where he was baptizing, he said to them: “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? Produce fruit in keeping with repentance. And do not think you can say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father.’ I tell you that out of these stones God can raise up children for Abraham.”

John is not a fan of what the leadership has done to the people of God. He’s inviting the people to repent and follow after God, not the misguided devotion of the Pharisees or the corrupted system of the Sadducees. This is one fiery Essene holding revivals out in the desert, outside of bounds of the religious systems of power.

But then, John reveals the theology that drives his ministry:

“The ax is already at the root of the trees, and every tree that does not produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.

“I baptize you with water for repentance. But after me comes one who is more powerful than I, whose sandals I am not worthy to carry. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor, gathering his wheat into the barn and burning up the chaff with unquenchable fire.”

John’s understanding is that Messiah is coming, and He’s bringing the kingdom of God with Him. This kingdom of God is coming with fire and judgment. John uses electric language about an ax at the root of the trees and a winnowing fork purging the threshing floor and a baptism of fire (harkening the reader to the first baptism of fire — Sodom and Gomorrah). John believes that judgment is at hand and the people need to repent.

Is this a correct assessment of the situation?

It seems to me that Jesus said he came not to condemn the world, but to save it — to shine light in dark places. What’s going on here? In order to answer that question, I’m going to put this post on hold and let the reader speculate on their explanation until a story later in the gospel accounts (and no, it won’t be the next post). What is John’s understanding of the world? Is he correct?

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.

EZRA/NEHEMIAH: Passionate Leadership

We now enter the last time period of the Tanakh, what I call the period of the Remnant. Babylon is eventually conquered by the Persians and the new Persian rule brings a new day to the people of the Bible, which is probably a good place to start.

Depending on which historian you ask, the description of the Persians can differ. I personally adhere to the explanation that the Persians were much different in their methods of ruling a vast empire. Babylon was the last of a dying breed of world-conquerors. For centuries, the world had been dominated by the imperial “tough guys,” empires that would enter the scene, flex their militant muscles, and destroy you. Babylon sought to crush, demoralize, and annihilate you.

Persia, on the other hand, had been heavily influenced by the new Western ideals of the Greeks. They sought to “win over” their enemies and earn their loyalty, rather than pummel them into surrender. This isn’t to say that the Persians weren’t incredible in their conquest — quite the opposite — but they had learned that conquering the world is much cheaper, easier, and less of a headache if you can win them over to your cause. Not only this, but Persia, instead of pillaging your land and leaving it desolate, would now employ you to farm, use, and occupy your land, causing their imperial economy to flourish.

So, when Cyrus defeats the Babylonians, we are told that he makes a decree that allows the Jews to go back home. This isn’t just a stroke of generosity on the part of Cyrus; this is his method. It also helps us understand why all throughout the book of Ezra, we keep seeing letters that are exchanged that question the motives and loyalty of the Jewish people to the Persian empire. Persia will not stand for a little rebellion beginning at the crossroads of the earth.

It should also be pointed out that very few people find themselves filled with joy and on their way “back home.” There is no mass return of the Jews; they come back in multiple waves of small groups of people. We are told of at least three distinct ways. The earliest pioneering wave of the remnant is led by a man named Zerubbabel. Later, Ezra follows and brings a second wave. The book of Ezra covers those two waves of returnees. Nehemiah will be mounting a third wave of returnees that we will read about in the book of his name.

But alas, this is not the point of my post. What concerns me about the teaching around Ezra and Nehemiah is the personalities of the guys we are told about who lead this remnant home to rebuild in their homeland.

I find it interesting to note the different forms of leadership that are seen in the story of Ezra/Nehemiah. The pioneering spirit of Zerubbabel is going to be a good fit to go with the pastoral, shepherding methods of Ezra. Between the two of them, they respond to adversity with steadfast encouragement and diplomacy. Zerubbabel writes letters and waits for responses; he follows the rules and plays by the book. Ezra will come back home and address the sinful disobedience of the people with discussion and Bible study. Upon finding out that the people of the remnant have already intermarried, putting the clarity of God’s project at risk almost immediately, he holds what I can best describe as a town hall meeting. They spend time in prayer and in the Text. The meeting is successful as the people come out with a spirit of confession and a plan for moving forward.

This stands in stark contrast to the methods and personality of Nehemiah. Nehemiah is a guy who has a little Elijah in his bones. When the people of God meet resistance in the building project, the last thought to cross Nehemiah’s mind is to write a letter; his command is to lay bricks with one hand and hold a sword in the other! When Nehemiah finds that the leaders have all gone home and intermarriage is again running rampant, the last thing on his mind is a town hall meeting; instead, he pulls out their beards and beats them with his fists (allowable by Torah).

Ezra/Nehemiah is about leadership. And it allows me to make some observations that will lead to an application.

First, please note that resistance, hardship, and troubles will come. In each story, the one constant piece is hardship. Rebuilding is difficult. Pushing forward and making progress is hard work. There will always be bumps in the road and obstacles to overcome. Good leaders help people overcome obstacles. They encourage people to keep going. They help us all endure. They find a way (and Godly leaders find God’s way, not just a way).

Second, please note that these leaders couldn’t be more different in their leadership styles and personalities. Ezra and Nehemiah have completely different leadership styles. Ezra is a shepherd/exhorter; Nehemiah is a prophet. Ezra leads with encouragement and tact; Nehemiah leads with fire and inspiration. Both leaders are blessed in their work by God. Why? Because they are working as God has created them to work. They are working in their anointing.

Third, they were passionate. This went for all of them. It’s easy to see the passion of Nehemiah, but don’t think for a second that Ezra didn’t lead each and every morning with passion. It’s difficult to crawl out of bed each morning and encourage God’s people and write another letter, only to wait for a delayed response. It takes all kinds of passion for Zerubbabel to mount up the troops and head back home into the unknown. You don’t lead a charge of the remnant without passion and an undying commitment to persevere.

I believe that each person reading this has a certain capacity and calling for leadership. You may be the kind of leader everybody would call a leader; you might be a business owner or a supervisor or a teacher. Maybe you aren’t, but you also might be a parent or a mentor. You might be gifted with the ability to serve. You might be the one woman some young girl looks up to. You might be the one man who doesn’t realize that his colleague is watching him.

You are a leader of something. And your calling is to be the kind of leader God created you to be. If you are a Nehemiah, we need you to be a Nehemiah. (Of course, if you are a Nehemiah, you probably don’t need me to tell you that.) If you are an Ezra, we need you to be an Ezra. If you are a pioneer, we need a few more people like Zerubbabel. And we need you to be passionate about leading well.


So lead on. The people of God need it.

The Fire and Passion of Elijah

The last four posts will really describe the story that will run its course through the rest of the history described in Samuel, Kings, and Chronicles. It’s this painful lust for empire — and everything that comes with it — that will drive the Israelites into captivity. While we’ll need to build more of a case around my argument by using the prophets, it would be unfair to skip through the rest of the history of the divided kingdom without mentioning anything else about it.

We left off as Rehoboam was being petitioned not to be as harsh as his father Solomon had been on the people. Rehoboam will, after rejecting the advice of his elders and accepting the “wisdom” of his peers, respond by telling the people that if they didn’t like the reign of his father, they hadn’t seen anything yet. “My finger is as thick as my father’s waist,” he said. “He scourged you with whips, I will scourge you will scorpions.”

Not a very likable political platform to run on. Not surprisingly, the people rebel against Rehoboam and follow another upstart leader, Jeroboam. Jeroboam returns from Egypt to seize the opportunity to reign and the kingdom is split in two, with the northern kingdom becoming “Israel” and the southern kingdom becoming “Judah.” Jeroboam will not seize the opportunity to reign in righteousness and obedience, however. He immediately sets up an alternate place of worship, a decision that is based on political fear of the southern kingdom influencing his people if they were to continue worshipping in Jerusalem. He sets up some golden calves and leads the people of the northern kingdom into idolatry. Jeroboam is succeeded by his son Nadab, who is followed Baasha, Elah, Zimri, and finally, Omri.

Omri is the most well documented king in extra-biblical history and was known (outside of the Bible) for being shrewd and ruthless. He attempted to reign by demonstrating his power and then establishing treaties with the countries around him. The plan worked for a time and Omri established an intimate relationship with the Phoenicians. After his death, the kingdom was passed into the hands of Ahab and the Israel/Phoenicia partnership was solidified through the marriage of Ahab to Phoenicia’s high priestess (of Asherah worship) named Jezebel. Through this marriage, Jezebel brings into Israel the full force of Phoenician Baal and Asherah worship. (The short version of this would be to go back and review the nature of the Amorite paganism, as the worship of the Phoenicians was simply an evolved version of child sacrifice and shrine prostitution.)

Onto the scene bursts the prophet Elijah, of whom we know very little background other than that he comes from Tishbe in the north. Elijah is known throughout biblical history to have been a prophet filled with fire and passion. Fire just happened to be Elijah’s prop of choice and is always seen popping up in Elijah’s ministry. Obviously, Elijah’s contest with the Baal prophets on Mt. Carmel will be tested with fire. When he is under attack from the army general from Israel, Elijah will call down fire from heaven to consume the advancing attackers. Elijah is a man of the flames!

So, this fiery prophet approaches Ahab about his sin and tells him that it’s not going to rain until he (Elijah) says so. Jewish tradition holds that God did not tell Elijah to tell Ahab this and was not particularly happy about Elijah’s passionate response. This hits many Christians sideways, yet a closer inspection of the Text will show many, many hints that support the Jewish position. God never speaks to Elijah with instructions about holding back the rain. And again, we see Elijah as a man of fiery passion; in the Jewish world, we call this chutzpah.

And what kind of chutzpah does Elijah have? How does he dare make such a bold prediction about the rain?

Because it’s in the Text. Give Deuteronomy 11:16–18 a read.

Elijah knows what God said in His book; Elijah binds God to His word. And God honors the move, but it appears that He may not be too pleased about that. Elijah will have to go and live in a cave and be fed by ravens. Now, any person of the Old Testament will tell you that ravens in the Scripture symbolize the scavenger, meaning that Elijah is being fed with food from somebody else’s table. As if to say, “Elijah, I’m going to honor your prophetic statement, but please realize that innocent people are going hungry because of the lack of rain. I’m going to feed you with those hungry people’s food.”

Elijah will then spend time at a widow’s house (in Phoenicia, by the way) and God will sustain them with a starvation-ration's worth of miraculous biscuits (about two biscuits each day). Could this be another message to Elijah? Finally, God DOES speak to Elijah, and His first words are, “Enough! Go tell Ahab that it’s going to rain!”

But he doesn’t tell Elijah HOW to tell Ahab. And so Elijah stages one of the greatest contests of Israelite history. Many of us are familiar with the context on Mt. Carmel. Elijah says that the Baal prophets are to set up a bull to sacrifice on the mountain and cry out to Baal. Elijah will set up an identical sacrifice and cry out to YHVH. Whichever sacrifice God responds to will indicate the victor. What we often do not realize is that Elijah is stacking the deck in Baal’s favor. He chooses Baal’s animal (the bull) to be sacrificed at Baal’s altar (there’s already an altar to Baal on Carmel) and is crying out for Baal’s weapon (lightning/“fire from heaven”). He’s giving Baal home court advantage.

Of course, Baal is found to be sleeping on the job and the God of Israel will consume the sacrifice, the altar, the water, and the ground under the altar with fire. Elijah seizes and kills the prophets of Baal and then prays for rain. When God finally produces a rain cloud, Elijah sends word to Ahab and then runs a half-marathon ahead of the chariot to Jezreel.

Jezebel isn’t happy to hear about this contest and its results. She tells Elijah that he will be dead within 24 hours and nobody stands up for Elijah.

The whole contest didn’t work.

Nobody changed. Nobody repented.

And so Elijah goes out to the wilderness, lies under a rotem bush, and gives up. But God comes to Elijah and demands that he travel to Mt. Sinai (Horeb) to meet with Him. So Elijah goes to Sinai, and when he gets there God finds Elijah in a cave (have we heard this story before?) and brings fire on the mountain. Fire, but no God. Then an incredible wind, but no God. Then, a terrible earthquake, but no God.

But, then — a still, small voice.

The Jews teach that this gentle whisper is the same whisper exchanged by two lovers in bed with one another. It’s the intimate whisper of love between a husband and wife.

In the opinion of my teacher, God’s point is this: “Elijah, fire and force and power don’t work. It doesn’t change the human heart. Love does. Just go love them and teach them how to love others.”

In fact, it’s the people’s lust for power and force and fire that’s leading them to burn babies in the fires of the Baals. It’s their lust for security that’s causing them to visit the shrine prostitutes of Asherah.

But God invites His prophets to invite His people to trust the story.

And how do you convince an entire nation of adulterous idol-worshippers to trust the story? Not with legislation. Not with clever rules and loud shouts and “winning the culture wars.”

You convince people by showing them a better way. You convince them with love.

Always have. Always will.

And, apparently, God knew this all along. Imagine that.