Now and then
Commentary
One day, shortly after the funeral of a beloved woman, I walked through a cemetery with her widower. We stopped together at the grave for a few minutes and stood in silence. Then the widower walked off on his own. I watched him wandering through the marble orchard, reading, no, studying the inscriptions on the markers. In about a half hour he returned and confessed he was confused.
"What's wrong?" I asked him.
"I'm trying to decide what to inscribe on the marker," he said. "As I read the inscriptions on other tombstones, I see such words as 'Beloved Wife' or 'Loving Mother.' "
"And what problem does that raise for you?" I asked.
"Well," he said, "correct me if I'm wrong, but when we got married, we took a vow to be faithful to each other 'til death do us part.' Now death has taken us apart. Isn't our marriage over now? Is it appropriate to write on her tombstone 'Beloved wife' when she is no longer my wife?"
The widower's questions challenge the common understanding that marriage "is forever." They ponder the deeper questions about the nature of our restoration with spouses and other loved ones in the kingdom to come. In fact, they force us to deal with the distinction between here and now and what will be, the very issue raised in our gospel for the day and suggested by the other lessons as well.
Haggai 1:15b--2:9
Now here's a lesson from one who is undoubtedly your favorite prophet -- a veritable household word in the house of faith. My guess is that most people have not uttered the name Haggai since those days when they were challenged to list the books of the Bible. Yet here he is, challenging us in his own time and place to think about the difference between now and then.
Our old friend Haggai contributed his prophecies to the Old Testament just before and just after the building of the Temple in 520 B.C. We do not know if he was active as a prophet apart from the brief period from August 29 to December 18, 520 B.C. All we have are his prophecies from that time frame, and they focus on the rebuilding of the Temple.
The addresses of his prophecies are essentially two persons: Zerubbabel and Joshua. Zerubbabel was a Jew who had grown up in Babylon as an exile. He was a grandson of the exiled king of Judah, Jehoiachin, and thus of Davidic lineage (see Matthew 1:12; Luke 3:27). When the Persians defeated the Babylonians and took over their vast kingdom, the Persian king Cyrus issued an edict that would allow the Jews who returned home to rebuild their Temple in Jerusalem. Cyrus was succeeded by Darius I, and under his leadership Zerubbabel was appointed governor of Judah.
Joshua was the son of Jehozadak and the newly appointed high priest in Jerusalem. While the prophet Zechariah tells us about a vision in which Satan challenged the qualifications of Joshua for the office, God rebuked Satan on the grounds that his credentials were impeccable (see Zechariah 3).
Together this pair stood out in early post-exilic Judaism as the people to watch. In fact, in the Book of Zechariah they are both considered to be God's anointed ones, literally, Messiahs, one royal of David's line and the other priestly, of Aaron's (see Zechariah 4, especially verse 14). This prophecy about two Messiahs developed further in later Judaism, especially in the Dead Sea Scrolls where the Qumran community clearly expected a Davidic and an Aaronic Messiah.
Now at the beginning of the Book of Haggai, these two come under some condemnation, for they have not led the people to rebuild the temple of the Lord that the Babylonians destroyed in 587 B.C. Haggai attributes a drought that encompassed the land to this failure on the part of the people and their leaders to build the Lord's house. Having heard the prophet's words, the two leaders get busy.
Almost two months later the word of the Lord came to the prophet again. The people had worked hard and the Temple was ready to use. But it was rather puny compared to what it had been in the days of old. The Temple destroyed almost seventy years earlier was the glorious one that Solomon had built and dedicated about 960 B.C. Compared to that former structure, this one was "as nothing" (v. 3). It would be left to Herod the Great some 500 years later to restore the Temple to a measure of its former glory.
Yet Haggai encouraged Zerubbabel and Joshua to take heart, because there was more to this issue than a contest over architecture. Haggai was convinced that the coming time of salvation, the kingdom of God in its glory, could arrive only when the Temple had been rebuilt, no matter what its appearance. Through his prophecy God assured both Zerubbabel and Joshua of the divine presence and promised such a shaking of the heavens and the earth and the sea and the dry land that money would fall from the pockets of the nations. Like Third Isaiah, Haggai saw the eschatological moment as the time when nations and their kings would bring their wealth to Mount Zion in order to glorify the Lord (see Isaiah 61:5-6). On that day the Lord will make the Temple even more splendid than the former one, and at that time Zerubbabel will be "like a signet ring; for I have chosen you, says the Lord of hosts" (2:23).
The prophecies of Haggai made a rather direct connection between now and then. The rebuilding of the Temple would inaugurate the kingdom of God. He was wrong, of course. So also was his predecessor, Second Isaiah, who had prophesied in Babylon about thirty years earlier that the kingdom of God would coincide with the return of the exiles to Zion (see Isaiah 52:7-10). Such mistakes have been made in more recent centuries, of course, for even the likes of Harriet Beecher Stowe thought the kingdom of God came to earth with the settlement of New England.
The difference between now and then, however, is not a matter of evolving from one state to another or of identifying an earthly event with the coming of the new day. The final vision of the Bible tells of a new Temple, one of the heavenly Jerusalem coming down to connect earth and heaven. That glorious new Temple to come, however, will require nothing less than the creation of "a new heaven and a new earth" (Revelation 21:1).
2 Thessalonians 2:1-5, 13-17
Whether the apostle Paul wrote this letter is a debatable issue in New Testament scholarship. The odds are really against the traditional view that shortly after the writing of 1 Thessalonians, the situation became worse and Paul had to write another letter. Too much in this letter contradicts Paul's theology, convincing many interpreters that someone else wrote the letter, probably at a date closer to the end of the first century.
In any case, no matter who write the letter, it is part of our canon and one of the lessons selected for this Sunday. Our verses, in fact, deal precisely with the reason for its writing.
The purpose of the letter was to correct a view about the second coming of the Lord Jesus. The author gives himself away and some of his argument to follow by the words he uses to introduce the problem: "our being gathered to him" (v. 1). The same verb appears in the apocalyptic teaching of Jesus at Mark 13:27: "he will gather his elect from the four winds...." The expression was a technical term in Jewish apocalyptic to promise the gathering of the elect out of all the nations to which they have been scattered. Obviously the expression became applied to the gathering of Christians as well.
Someone had spread the word either orally or in writing that Paul had taught the day of the Lord was already here. Such a thought, in fact, contrasted with what Paul had written in 1 Thessalonians and elsewhere (e.g., Romans 13:11-14), namely that the day was at hand but still to come. This author argued that the day could not have arrived yet, because the necessary apocalyptic preliminaries had not yet occurred. First, he argued, the rebellion must occur. That expression probably does not point to any specific historical necessity but rather to a general rebellion against God that was typical of apocalyptic expectation. Second, "the lawless one" has not yet been revealed. Identifying that character has occupied many pages of print over the centuries, but again the image probably reflects a general attitude in apocalyptic thinking that prior to the Day of the Lord some godless figure will play god, and that idolatrous act will set in motion the battle of the last days.
One would think that experience itself would correct the view that the day has already come. One would only need to look around to see that fragmentation of peoples still abounds, that hunger and thirst still kill people, that the streets are still crowded with the homeless, and that physical pain and emotional misery still haunt people's lives. There is not sufficient difference between now and then to suggest the day of the Lord is already here.
The question about terminology looms large from this passage. Clearly the preaching, teaching, and ministry of Jesus announced that the kingdom of God had already begun. Jesus performed miracles expected on the day of the Lord and gathered a new community like the one prophesied from of old. The Book of Acts announced that the pouring out of the Holy Spirit was the eschatological event promised in Joel 2:28-29, and the apostle Paul taught that the resurrection of Jesus from the dead was the first fruits of those who have fallen asleep, that is, the beginning of the new day. All that and more points to the "already" of the kingdom to come.
Yet the New Testament abounds with the expectation of the Day that will come -- like a thief in the night or after some preliminary events as described here in our pericope. The Bible ends with the vision of the expectation of much more to come, a new heaven and a new earth. These witnesses represent the "not yet" of the kingdom.
I find it helpful to speak of the Kingdom of God as having "dawned" in the ministry, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, but we still wait for "high noon" when God reigns unambiguously over the entire cosmos.
In any case, the author of 2 Thessalonians ends his discussion about the presence of the day of the Lord here and now by reiterating his thanksgiving for the Christians who read his letter. His thanks is really to God who chose them for salvation and called them to obtain the glory of the Lord Jesus Christ (vv. 13-14). On the basis of their election and calling, the author encourages them to stand firm in the traditions they received. Then he concludes the first section of his letter with the prayer that the God who has already loved them and given them eternal comfort and good hope would now comfort and strengthen them in word and deed.
By these words the hope for "then" becomes the basis for ministry and life "now."
Luke 20:27-38
This dialogue between Jesus and the Sadducees intrigues us because of the historical, theological, and cultural issues raised in these verses. At the same time, however, the response of Jesus to their question casts a light on the nature of our relationship with deceased loved ones -- an answer that many even today would rather not hear.
The Sadducees themselves deserve our attention at the outset since this is the first and only time they appear in Luke's Gospel. Who they were and what they believed are important considerations for understanding the pericope. When the people of Israel returned from the Babylonian exile after Cyrus' Edict in 538 B.C., the group given the responsibility of officiating as priests were the "sons of Zadok." Zadok is included in the family tree at 1 Chronicles 6:1-15 as a descendant of Eleazar, one of four sons of Aaron who was, of course, the priest; the genealogy ends with Jehozadak who went into exile in Babylon (Jehozadak was the father of the Joshua mentioned in our first lesson). In any case, these Zadokites staffed the Jerusalem Temple. By the first century B.C. the party known as the Sadducees were related to the Zadokites (virtually the same word), but by then they had become a family of both priests and aristocratic laypersons having little or nothing to do with common folks. As a religious sect this group adhered to the written words of the Torah and paid no attention to the oral and other developed traditions that were so important to the Pharisees. Their beliefs are mentioned in the New Testament only in a negative way: they did not believe in resurrection, angels, or spirits -- all of which were acknowledged by the Pharisees (see Acts 23:8).
The appearance of the Sadducees in our pericope indicates that all the religious people of the day were out to get Jesus. This chapter opens with the report that as Jesus was teaching the people in the temple, his authority was challenged by the chief priests, the scribes, and the elders. Those same groups sent spies (v. 20) to trap him with the question regarding payment of taxes, but Jesus' response silenced them. Now come the Sadducees.
Their question was obviously intended as a trap. They asked about what will happen "in the resurrection" (v. 33), a concept in which they did not believe (v. 27). But their question was one that is raised by well-meaning people even today: What happens to marriage in the kingdom to come? The Sadducees framed the issue in terms of the practice known as levirate marriage (levir is a Latin word meaning "brother-in-law"). According to the law of Moses (to which the Sadducees adhered), if a married man died without having children, the brother of the deceased was obligated to marry the widow and impregnate her; the child born of this union was to bear the name of the deceased so as to continue his name throughout Israel (see Deuteronomy 25:5-10). The practice lies at the heart of the story about Judah and Tamar in Genesis 38 where the punishment on the one who refused to bear a son for his deceased brother is far more severe than the law in Deuteronomy 25.
The Sadducees pushed the issue all the way down to seven sons, each of whom in turn lived up to his responsibility to the widow. Now comes their question: "In the resurrection, therefore, whose wife will the woman be?"
Jesus' response divides their question into two parts. First, he takes his clue from the reason behind levirate marriage, namely, the need to bear children. "Those who belong to this age marry and are given in marriage." Jesus does not in any way denounce marriage and the need to bear children. On the contrary, his words confirm teachings and emphases that run throughout his own Bible, the Hebrew Scriptures. In the very first chapter of the Bible God addresses the newly created human beings with the blessing to "Be fruitful and fill the earth" (Genesis 1:28). In one sense, the blessing is given to all humankind, and the fulfilling of the blessing occurs in later chapters as genealogies of individuals and peoples demonstrate (Genesis 5, 10). In another sense, the blessing appears to be a message to the people of Israel who were living at the time in Babylon. This same writer, the so-called Priest, began the Book of Exodus and the entire story of the exodus with the report that the children of Jacob who went down into Egypt started out as a mere seventy persons, but "they were fruitful and prolific; they multiplied and grew exceedingly strong, so that the land was filled with them" (Exodus 1:7). The message was important for the people of a later day who likewise were enslaved in a foreign land, namely Babylon: if you are not fruitful, even in your captivity, there will be no people for the Lord to save when the time comes. That same message went to the exiles by way of Jeremiah's letter, for that prophet encouraged them to "take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there and do not decrease" (Jeremiah 29:6).
With that background Jesus affirms the necessity of marriage and the birth of children "in this age." The role of levirate marriage in that society was part of the whole cultural picture that Jesus accepts here as part of living in the world. But now Jesus turns to the issue of the resurrection that the Sadducees have raised. The entire role of marriage and family is "in that age" irrelevant. Why?
There is no marriage for "those who are considered worthy of a place in that age." The theological passive of the verb implies, of course, that "God considers some worthy." On what basis? This particular passage does not answer that question. However, the author of Luke-Acts deals with the issue of worth in another place, namely Acts 13:46. There, rejecting the word of the gospel and judging oneself to be unworthy of eternal life appear to be one and the same. By that parallel passage we might assume on our own that God considers those to be worthy who, having heard the gospel, believe it. God's grace in that proclaimed word and faithful acceptance of it qualifies believers for inclusion in the resurrection and in the age to come.
In that new age there is no reason for marriage and for bearing children because persons will not die. Resurrection is life eternal. Marriage and children are the blessings for mortals. For immortals of the resurrection age, however, those blessings are irrelevant.
Jesus explained that they cannot die any more "because they are like angels and are children of God." Strange that Jesus should use the image of angels to the Sadducees, who did not acknowledge their existence. Yet perhaps Jesus was hinting at a passage in their own beloved Torah which they undoubtedly knew in Greek as well as in Hebrew, for the Sadducees were quite Hellenized in their thinking and ways. The story of Genesis 6:1-4 might have challenged them to think about a number of pieces Jesus is putting together in response to his question. The sons of God found the daughter of humans to be quite attractive, and so the divine beings took wives as they chose. God became outraged at their action, and so God declared a limit to human life at 120 years. The issue for God was not one of immorality but immortality, because the offspring might inherit the DNA of the divine beings and live forever. Interestingly, when the Hebrew Scriptures were translated into Greek, these "sons of God" were sometimes considered to be angels.
In the age of resurrection those considered worthy will be "like angels" but actually "children of God." In Luke 11 Jesus instructed his disciples to begin the prayer he taught with the word "Father," just as children speak to their parent. Paul announced that through the redemption that comes in the cross of Christ we receive "adoption as children" and through the gift of the Holy Spirit we can call God "Abba! Father!" (Galatians 4:5-6). Jesus announces here that the identification as God's children extends into and through all eternity. Therefore, the new family that we enter at our baptism, the family of sisters and brothers in Christ, continues in the age to come and renders irrelevant the family life so vital for this present age.
Having spelled out his response to the question about marriage, Jesus now moves on to instruct the Sadducees about resurrection itself. Steeped as they were in the Torah of Moses, Jesus appeals to that ancient hero in regard to life after death. Strikingly, while the Sadducees devoted themselves exclusively to what Moses had written (see the parallel at Mark 12:26: "have you not read"), Luke's Jesus challenges them to listen as Moses "speaks" of the Lord, emphasizing the timeless message that rises from the written word.
The story that Jesus alludes to, of course, is the scene in Exodus 3. There the Lord invites Moses to the top of Mount Horeb by means of the burning bush and indeed appears as an angel in (or as) the flaming bush. The Lord reveals himself to Moses as the God of Abraham, Jacob, and Isaac. In the Old Testament setting this divine self-revelation connects the Book of Genesis with the Book of Exodus, that is, the stories about the patriarchs with the story of the exodus and Moses. The God of the patriarchs is one and the same as the Yahweh who here reveals the divine name to Moses (3:14-15).
Jesus, however, uses the identification of God differently. If Moses speaks of the Lord as the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, then they must be living, for how can God be the God of the dead? Only those who are alive can have a God. If "all of them are alive" to God, Jesus argues, therein lies the proof of resurrection.
This idea that the patriarchs are immortal is evident in Judaism even prior to Jesus' day. In 4 Maccabees 16 is a long lesson about a mother who is about to lose her seven sons to torture and execution. She encouraged them all to accept death rather than disobey God's commandments. "They knew also that those who die for the sake of God live to God, as do Abraham and Isaac and Jacob and all the patriarchs" (v. 25). What Luke's Jesus did with this understanding was to prove resurrection to those who insisted on denying it, the Sadducees.
While resurrection is the major issue of the pericope, the Sadducees' sole appearance in Luke's Gospel raised a specific question in regard to resurrection, namely the nature of relationships that are so important to us on earth. Jesus dealt with both concerns, and in the process he left for our instruction one more example of the difference between now and then.
As for the widower who pondered the appropriate inscription on his wife's marker, he and I talked at length on several occasions about his questions. He acknowledged how she was so important in his life and in the lives of their children, and he would not want the power of that relationship over 51 years of marriage to get lost. At the same time he knew she was more than what she meant to him and their children. The inscription on her grave marker reads: "Beloved Wife, Loving Mother, Child of God."
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
Haggai 1:15b--2:9
A cynic once remarked that Jesus came preaching the Kingdom of God, and what he got was the church -- a distinct disappointment. Certainly there is reason to be disappointed with the church these days. Its membership is melting away. Its life is torn by controversy and dissent. Its influence on the life of society has all but disappeared. And those who have found the center of their trust in the church's message, through all their life long, despair of the slow ruin to which it seems to be subject.
After all, there was a day when the church counted for something in this country. Its buildings dominated every urban skyscape. Its preachers were among the noted figures in the populace. Its acts of mercy were known throughout the world. Its ethics guided society's customs and laws. And even The New York Times featured reviews of its sermons and programs. But now all that glory seems a thing of the past, and the church sometimes appears in our eyes as insignificant and helpless.
The populace in Haggai's time had much the same feeling about the temple on Zion that was being rebuilt. The date of our text is given exactly: October 17, 520 B.C. The people have returned from their exile in Babylonia to form a little congregation under the rule of Darius I, Hystaspes of Persia. They are allowed to have their own governor, the Davidic Zerubabbel, and their own high priest, Joshua the son of Jehozadak. But they are struggling and desperately poor. Drought has stunted their crops and brought widespread hunger. Inflation has eaten into their meager earnings. Jerusalem still lies mostly in ruins. But Haggai the prophet has urged them to rebuild the temple of the Lord, and one month earlier they laid the foundation of that sanctuary.
The result of the rebuilding is pitiful, however. The Hebrew of our text calls it "much more than nothing" (v. 3), an insignificant little structure compared to the temple of Solomon that once stood on the site. When the old folks see what the rebuilt temple is going to look like, they weep, for they remember so well the glorious structure that went before: the first temple's cedar and cypress, gold and carving (1 Kings 6); the Ark of the Covenant with its mercy seat and cherubim; the pot of manna and Aaron's rod preserved in the place; the eternal fire on the altar. Now all of that is gone, victims of Babylonia's destructive armies, and dim old eyes can only fill with tears at the loss and at the dismal replacement of what they once knew. Oh yes, the people in Haggai's time could have empathized with our disappointments about the church.
But Haggai's contemporaries forgot, and we forget, that the glory of the temple and of the church is not the magnificent building or the wondrous ritual or the influence of the congregation in society. Rather the glory of the temple and of the church is the presence of the Lord in their midst. And that is the message that Haggai brings to his disheartened people and to us. "Take courage ... take courage ... take courage," God commands three times in our text. "Work, for I am with you," as I have always been since the time of your redemption. "My Spirit abides among you; fear not" (vv. 4-5). God is with Judah; he has not abandoned her, despite her sin and exile and desperate situation. And God is with us in his church, despite all that we have done to disrupt his purpose and to be undeserving of his presence. God is with us, his glory still in the midst of his church.
Do we realize, then, what powers are available because that is true? The God who ignited the sun and flung the stars across millions of galaxies; the Lord who created a people named Israel for himself and who has preserved their life through 3000 years; the King who defeated all the powers of evil and death on Easter morn and who still reigns as Ruler of heaven and earth; the Shepherd who first gave you the breath of life and who has watched over you and guided you through all your sufferings and joys; that God is still in his church, still in our midst, still lending us his power through his mighty Spirit to rebuild and to prosper his church. Do we not, then, have all the resources we need in him to work without fear?
More, can we not have great expectations, rather than sorrow, over the future that lies out there ahead of us and the church? Our text from Haggai is directed not only to Judah's present condition, but also to her future. "In a little while," the Lord proclaims. In that indefinite time in God's future working, he will shake the heavens and the earth and all the cosmos, to fill a new temple with treasures and a new Jerusalem with abundant life (shalom in the Hebrew, v. 9), and his kingdom will be present on earth even as it is in heaven. Haggai's message reaches out to that eschatological time when God's good purpose for his world will be complete, and all nations will come to his worship.
We have the same expectation and same hope in the church, do we not? That there lies out ahead of us all, not the sometimes desperate situations that we now find in our world, not the meagerness of our faith and the faults of our sins, not the turmoil of nations and the rule of the evil and proud, but the rule of the one God who has triumphed over all principalities and powers in our crucified and risen Lord. The whole New Testament -
- and indeed, the Old, and Haggai here -- announce it: That God is not through with us; that his purpose goes steadily forward; that finally every knee shall bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to God's glory. And our disappointments, our despair over the future, our tears, our sufferings will be things of the past. And earth will be fair, and life will be good and whole, and God will be our all in all.
So take courage, good people of faith, take courage. Work in his church and fear not. For the Lord God Almighty is in our midst, and his Spirit abides among us.
"What's wrong?" I asked him.
"I'm trying to decide what to inscribe on the marker," he said. "As I read the inscriptions on other tombstones, I see such words as 'Beloved Wife' or 'Loving Mother.' "
"And what problem does that raise for you?" I asked.
"Well," he said, "correct me if I'm wrong, but when we got married, we took a vow to be faithful to each other 'til death do us part.' Now death has taken us apart. Isn't our marriage over now? Is it appropriate to write on her tombstone 'Beloved wife' when she is no longer my wife?"
The widower's questions challenge the common understanding that marriage "is forever." They ponder the deeper questions about the nature of our restoration with spouses and other loved ones in the kingdom to come. In fact, they force us to deal with the distinction between here and now and what will be, the very issue raised in our gospel for the day and suggested by the other lessons as well.
Haggai 1:15b--2:9
Now here's a lesson from one who is undoubtedly your favorite prophet -- a veritable household word in the house of faith. My guess is that most people have not uttered the name Haggai since those days when they were challenged to list the books of the Bible. Yet here he is, challenging us in his own time and place to think about the difference between now and then.
Our old friend Haggai contributed his prophecies to the Old Testament just before and just after the building of the Temple in 520 B.C. We do not know if he was active as a prophet apart from the brief period from August 29 to December 18, 520 B.C. All we have are his prophecies from that time frame, and they focus on the rebuilding of the Temple.
The addresses of his prophecies are essentially two persons: Zerubbabel and Joshua. Zerubbabel was a Jew who had grown up in Babylon as an exile. He was a grandson of the exiled king of Judah, Jehoiachin, and thus of Davidic lineage (see Matthew 1:12; Luke 3:27). When the Persians defeated the Babylonians and took over their vast kingdom, the Persian king Cyrus issued an edict that would allow the Jews who returned home to rebuild their Temple in Jerusalem. Cyrus was succeeded by Darius I, and under his leadership Zerubbabel was appointed governor of Judah.
Joshua was the son of Jehozadak and the newly appointed high priest in Jerusalem. While the prophet Zechariah tells us about a vision in which Satan challenged the qualifications of Joshua for the office, God rebuked Satan on the grounds that his credentials were impeccable (see Zechariah 3).
Together this pair stood out in early post-exilic Judaism as the people to watch. In fact, in the Book of Zechariah they are both considered to be God's anointed ones, literally, Messiahs, one royal of David's line and the other priestly, of Aaron's (see Zechariah 4, especially verse 14). This prophecy about two Messiahs developed further in later Judaism, especially in the Dead Sea Scrolls where the Qumran community clearly expected a Davidic and an Aaronic Messiah.
Now at the beginning of the Book of Haggai, these two come under some condemnation, for they have not led the people to rebuild the temple of the Lord that the Babylonians destroyed in 587 B.C. Haggai attributes a drought that encompassed the land to this failure on the part of the people and their leaders to build the Lord's house. Having heard the prophet's words, the two leaders get busy.
Almost two months later the word of the Lord came to the prophet again. The people had worked hard and the Temple was ready to use. But it was rather puny compared to what it had been in the days of old. The Temple destroyed almost seventy years earlier was the glorious one that Solomon had built and dedicated about 960 B.C. Compared to that former structure, this one was "as nothing" (v. 3). It would be left to Herod the Great some 500 years later to restore the Temple to a measure of its former glory.
Yet Haggai encouraged Zerubbabel and Joshua to take heart, because there was more to this issue than a contest over architecture. Haggai was convinced that the coming time of salvation, the kingdom of God in its glory, could arrive only when the Temple had been rebuilt, no matter what its appearance. Through his prophecy God assured both Zerubbabel and Joshua of the divine presence and promised such a shaking of the heavens and the earth and the sea and the dry land that money would fall from the pockets of the nations. Like Third Isaiah, Haggai saw the eschatological moment as the time when nations and their kings would bring their wealth to Mount Zion in order to glorify the Lord (see Isaiah 61:5-6). On that day the Lord will make the Temple even more splendid than the former one, and at that time Zerubbabel will be "like a signet ring; for I have chosen you, says the Lord of hosts" (2:23).
The prophecies of Haggai made a rather direct connection between now and then. The rebuilding of the Temple would inaugurate the kingdom of God. He was wrong, of course. So also was his predecessor, Second Isaiah, who had prophesied in Babylon about thirty years earlier that the kingdom of God would coincide with the return of the exiles to Zion (see Isaiah 52:7-10). Such mistakes have been made in more recent centuries, of course, for even the likes of Harriet Beecher Stowe thought the kingdom of God came to earth with the settlement of New England.
The difference between now and then, however, is not a matter of evolving from one state to another or of identifying an earthly event with the coming of the new day. The final vision of the Bible tells of a new Temple, one of the heavenly Jerusalem coming down to connect earth and heaven. That glorious new Temple to come, however, will require nothing less than the creation of "a new heaven and a new earth" (Revelation 21:1).
2 Thessalonians 2:1-5, 13-17
Whether the apostle Paul wrote this letter is a debatable issue in New Testament scholarship. The odds are really against the traditional view that shortly after the writing of 1 Thessalonians, the situation became worse and Paul had to write another letter. Too much in this letter contradicts Paul's theology, convincing many interpreters that someone else wrote the letter, probably at a date closer to the end of the first century.
In any case, no matter who write the letter, it is part of our canon and one of the lessons selected for this Sunday. Our verses, in fact, deal precisely with the reason for its writing.
The purpose of the letter was to correct a view about the second coming of the Lord Jesus. The author gives himself away and some of his argument to follow by the words he uses to introduce the problem: "our being gathered to him" (v. 1). The same verb appears in the apocalyptic teaching of Jesus at Mark 13:27: "he will gather his elect from the four winds...." The expression was a technical term in Jewish apocalyptic to promise the gathering of the elect out of all the nations to which they have been scattered. Obviously the expression became applied to the gathering of Christians as well.
Someone had spread the word either orally or in writing that Paul had taught the day of the Lord was already here. Such a thought, in fact, contrasted with what Paul had written in 1 Thessalonians and elsewhere (e.g., Romans 13:11-14), namely that the day was at hand but still to come. This author argued that the day could not have arrived yet, because the necessary apocalyptic preliminaries had not yet occurred. First, he argued, the rebellion must occur. That expression probably does not point to any specific historical necessity but rather to a general rebellion against God that was typical of apocalyptic expectation. Second, "the lawless one" has not yet been revealed. Identifying that character has occupied many pages of print over the centuries, but again the image probably reflects a general attitude in apocalyptic thinking that prior to the Day of the Lord some godless figure will play god, and that idolatrous act will set in motion the battle of the last days.
One would think that experience itself would correct the view that the day has already come. One would only need to look around to see that fragmentation of peoples still abounds, that hunger and thirst still kill people, that the streets are still crowded with the homeless, and that physical pain and emotional misery still haunt people's lives. There is not sufficient difference between now and then to suggest the day of the Lord is already here.
The question about terminology looms large from this passage. Clearly the preaching, teaching, and ministry of Jesus announced that the kingdom of God had already begun. Jesus performed miracles expected on the day of the Lord and gathered a new community like the one prophesied from of old. The Book of Acts announced that the pouring out of the Holy Spirit was the eschatological event promised in Joel 2:28-29, and the apostle Paul taught that the resurrection of Jesus from the dead was the first fruits of those who have fallen asleep, that is, the beginning of the new day. All that and more points to the "already" of the kingdom to come.
Yet the New Testament abounds with the expectation of the Day that will come -- like a thief in the night or after some preliminary events as described here in our pericope. The Bible ends with the vision of the expectation of much more to come, a new heaven and a new earth. These witnesses represent the "not yet" of the kingdom.
I find it helpful to speak of the Kingdom of God as having "dawned" in the ministry, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, but we still wait for "high noon" when God reigns unambiguously over the entire cosmos.
In any case, the author of 2 Thessalonians ends his discussion about the presence of the day of the Lord here and now by reiterating his thanksgiving for the Christians who read his letter. His thanks is really to God who chose them for salvation and called them to obtain the glory of the Lord Jesus Christ (vv. 13-14). On the basis of their election and calling, the author encourages them to stand firm in the traditions they received. Then he concludes the first section of his letter with the prayer that the God who has already loved them and given them eternal comfort and good hope would now comfort and strengthen them in word and deed.
By these words the hope for "then" becomes the basis for ministry and life "now."
Luke 20:27-38
This dialogue between Jesus and the Sadducees intrigues us because of the historical, theological, and cultural issues raised in these verses. At the same time, however, the response of Jesus to their question casts a light on the nature of our relationship with deceased loved ones -- an answer that many even today would rather not hear.
The Sadducees themselves deserve our attention at the outset since this is the first and only time they appear in Luke's Gospel. Who they were and what they believed are important considerations for understanding the pericope. When the people of Israel returned from the Babylonian exile after Cyrus' Edict in 538 B.C., the group given the responsibility of officiating as priests were the "sons of Zadok." Zadok is included in the family tree at 1 Chronicles 6:1-15 as a descendant of Eleazar, one of four sons of Aaron who was, of course, the priest; the genealogy ends with Jehozadak who went into exile in Babylon (Jehozadak was the father of the Joshua mentioned in our first lesson). In any case, these Zadokites staffed the Jerusalem Temple. By the first century B.C. the party known as the Sadducees were related to the Zadokites (virtually the same word), but by then they had become a family of both priests and aristocratic laypersons having little or nothing to do with common folks. As a religious sect this group adhered to the written words of the Torah and paid no attention to the oral and other developed traditions that were so important to the Pharisees. Their beliefs are mentioned in the New Testament only in a negative way: they did not believe in resurrection, angels, or spirits -- all of which were acknowledged by the Pharisees (see Acts 23:8).
The appearance of the Sadducees in our pericope indicates that all the religious people of the day were out to get Jesus. This chapter opens with the report that as Jesus was teaching the people in the temple, his authority was challenged by the chief priests, the scribes, and the elders. Those same groups sent spies (v. 20) to trap him with the question regarding payment of taxes, but Jesus' response silenced them. Now come the Sadducees.
Their question was obviously intended as a trap. They asked about what will happen "in the resurrection" (v. 33), a concept in which they did not believe (v. 27). But their question was one that is raised by well-meaning people even today: What happens to marriage in the kingdom to come? The Sadducees framed the issue in terms of the practice known as levirate marriage (levir is a Latin word meaning "brother-in-law"). According to the law of Moses (to which the Sadducees adhered), if a married man died without having children, the brother of the deceased was obligated to marry the widow and impregnate her; the child born of this union was to bear the name of the deceased so as to continue his name throughout Israel (see Deuteronomy 25:5-10). The practice lies at the heart of the story about Judah and Tamar in Genesis 38 where the punishment on the one who refused to bear a son for his deceased brother is far more severe than the law in Deuteronomy 25.
The Sadducees pushed the issue all the way down to seven sons, each of whom in turn lived up to his responsibility to the widow. Now comes their question: "In the resurrection, therefore, whose wife will the woman be?"
Jesus' response divides their question into two parts. First, he takes his clue from the reason behind levirate marriage, namely, the need to bear children. "Those who belong to this age marry and are given in marriage." Jesus does not in any way denounce marriage and the need to bear children. On the contrary, his words confirm teachings and emphases that run throughout his own Bible, the Hebrew Scriptures. In the very first chapter of the Bible God addresses the newly created human beings with the blessing to "Be fruitful and fill the earth" (Genesis 1:28). In one sense, the blessing is given to all humankind, and the fulfilling of the blessing occurs in later chapters as genealogies of individuals and peoples demonstrate (Genesis 5, 10). In another sense, the blessing appears to be a message to the people of Israel who were living at the time in Babylon. This same writer, the so-called Priest, began the Book of Exodus and the entire story of the exodus with the report that the children of Jacob who went down into Egypt started out as a mere seventy persons, but "they were fruitful and prolific; they multiplied and grew exceedingly strong, so that the land was filled with them" (Exodus 1:7). The message was important for the people of a later day who likewise were enslaved in a foreign land, namely Babylon: if you are not fruitful, even in your captivity, there will be no people for the Lord to save when the time comes. That same message went to the exiles by way of Jeremiah's letter, for that prophet encouraged them to "take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there and do not decrease" (Jeremiah 29:6).
With that background Jesus affirms the necessity of marriage and the birth of children "in this age." The role of levirate marriage in that society was part of the whole cultural picture that Jesus accepts here as part of living in the world. But now Jesus turns to the issue of the resurrection that the Sadducees have raised. The entire role of marriage and family is "in that age" irrelevant. Why?
There is no marriage for "those who are considered worthy of a place in that age." The theological passive of the verb implies, of course, that "God considers some worthy." On what basis? This particular passage does not answer that question. However, the author of Luke-Acts deals with the issue of worth in another place, namely Acts 13:46. There, rejecting the word of the gospel and judging oneself to be unworthy of eternal life appear to be one and the same. By that parallel passage we might assume on our own that God considers those to be worthy who, having heard the gospel, believe it. God's grace in that proclaimed word and faithful acceptance of it qualifies believers for inclusion in the resurrection and in the age to come.
In that new age there is no reason for marriage and for bearing children because persons will not die. Resurrection is life eternal. Marriage and children are the blessings for mortals. For immortals of the resurrection age, however, those blessings are irrelevant.
Jesus explained that they cannot die any more "because they are like angels and are children of God." Strange that Jesus should use the image of angels to the Sadducees, who did not acknowledge their existence. Yet perhaps Jesus was hinting at a passage in their own beloved Torah which they undoubtedly knew in Greek as well as in Hebrew, for the Sadducees were quite Hellenized in their thinking and ways. The story of Genesis 6:1-4 might have challenged them to think about a number of pieces Jesus is putting together in response to his question. The sons of God found the daughter of humans to be quite attractive, and so the divine beings took wives as they chose. God became outraged at their action, and so God declared a limit to human life at 120 years. The issue for God was not one of immorality but immortality, because the offspring might inherit the DNA of the divine beings and live forever. Interestingly, when the Hebrew Scriptures were translated into Greek, these "sons of God" were sometimes considered to be angels.
In the age of resurrection those considered worthy will be "like angels" but actually "children of God." In Luke 11 Jesus instructed his disciples to begin the prayer he taught with the word "Father," just as children speak to their parent. Paul announced that through the redemption that comes in the cross of Christ we receive "adoption as children" and through the gift of the Holy Spirit we can call God "Abba! Father!" (Galatians 4:5-6). Jesus announces here that the identification as God's children extends into and through all eternity. Therefore, the new family that we enter at our baptism, the family of sisters and brothers in Christ, continues in the age to come and renders irrelevant the family life so vital for this present age.
Having spelled out his response to the question about marriage, Jesus now moves on to instruct the Sadducees about resurrection itself. Steeped as they were in the Torah of Moses, Jesus appeals to that ancient hero in regard to life after death. Strikingly, while the Sadducees devoted themselves exclusively to what Moses had written (see the parallel at Mark 12:26: "have you not read"), Luke's Jesus challenges them to listen as Moses "speaks" of the Lord, emphasizing the timeless message that rises from the written word.
The story that Jesus alludes to, of course, is the scene in Exodus 3. There the Lord invites Moses to the top of Mount Horeb by means of the burning bush and indeed appears as an angel in (or as) the flaming bush. The Lord reveals himself to Moses as the God of Abraham, Jacob, and Isaac. In the Old Testament setting this divine self-revelation connects the Book of Genesis with the Book of Exodus, that is, the stories about the patriarchs with the story of the exodus and Moses. The God of the patriarchs is one and the same as the Yahweh who here reveals the divine name to Moses (3:14-15).
Jesus, however, uses the identification of God differently. If Moses speaks of the Lord as the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, then they must be living, for how can God be the God of the dead? Only those who are alive can have a God. If "all of them are alive" to God, Jesus argues, therein lies the proof of resurrection.
This idea that the patriarchs are immortal is evident in Judaism even prior to Jesus' day. In 4 Maccabees 16 is a long lesson about a mother who is about to lose her seven sons to torture and execution. She encouraged them all to accept death rather than disobey God's commandments. "They knew also that those who die for the sake of God live to God, as do Abraham and Isaac and Jacob and all the patriarchs" (v. 25). What Luke's Jesus did with this understanding was to prove resurrection to those who insisted on denying it, the Sadducees.
While resurrection is the major issue of the pericope, the Sadducees' sole appearance in Luke's Gospel raised a specific question in regard to resurrection, namely the nature of relationships that are so important to us on earth. Jesus dealt with both concerns, and in the process he left for our instruction one more example of the difference between now and then.
As for the widower who pondered the appropriate inscription on his wife's marker, he and I talked at length on several occasions about his questions. He acknowledged how she was so important in his life and in the lives of their children, and he would not want the power of that relationship over 51 years of marriage to get lost. At the same time he knew she was more than what she meant to him and their children. The inscription on her grave marker reads: "Beloved Wife, Loving Mother, Child of God."
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
Haggai 1:15b--2:9
A cynic once remarked that Jesus came preaching the Kingdom of God, and what he got was the church -- a distinct disappointment. Certainly there is reason to be disappointed with the church these days. Its membership is melting away. Its life is torn by controversy and dissent. Its influence on the life of society has all but disappeared. And those who have found the center of their trust in the church's message, through all their life long, despair of the slow ruin to which it seems to be subject.
After all, there was a day when the church counted for something in this country. Its buildings dominated every urban skyscape. Its preachers were among the noted figures in the populace. Its acts of mercy were known throughout the world. Its ethics guided society's customs and laws. And even The New York Times featured reviews of its sermons and programs. But now all that glory seems a thing of the past, and the church sometimes appears in our eyes as insignificant and helpless.
The populace in Haggai's time had much the same feeling about the temple on Zion that was being rebuilt. The date of our text is given exactly: October 17, 520 B.C. The people have returned from their exile in Babylonia to form a little congregation under the rule of Darius I, Hystaspes of Persia. They are allowed to have their own governor, the Davidic Zerubabbel, and their own high priest, Joshua the son of Jehozadak. But they are struggling and desperately poor. Drought has stunted their crops and brought widespread hunger. Inflation has eaten into their meager earnings. Jerusalem still lies mostly in ruins. But Haggai the prophet has urged them to rebuild the temple of the Lord, and one month earlier they laid the foundation of that sanctuary.
The result of the rebuilding is pitiful, however. The Hebrew of our text calls it "much more than nothing" (v. 3), an insignificant little structure compared to the temple of Solomon that once stood on the site. When the old folks see what the rebuilt temple is going to look like, they weep, for they remember so well the glorious structure that went before: the first temple's cedar and cypress, gold and carving (1 Kings 6); the Ark of the Covenant with its mercy seat and cherubim; the pot of manna and Aaron's rod preserved in the place; the eternal fire on the altar. Now all of that is gone, victims of Babylonia's destructive armies, and dim old eyes can only fill with tears at the loss and at the dismal replacement of what they once knew. Oh yes, the people in Haggai's time could have empathized with our disappointments about the church.
But Haggai's contemporaries forgot, and we forget, that the glory of the temple and of the church is not the magnificent building or the wondrous ritual or the influence of the congregation in society. Rather the glory of the temple and of the church is the presence of the Lord in their midst. And that is the message that Haggai brings to his disheartened people and to us. "Take courage ... take courage ... take courage," God commands three times in our text. "Work, for I am with you," as I have always been since the time of your redemption. "My Spirit abides among you; fear not" (vv. 4-5). God is with Judah; he has not abandoned her, despite her sin and exile and desperate situation. And God is with us in his church, despite all that we have done to disrupt his purpose and to be undeserving of his presence. God is with us, his glory still in the midst of his church.
Do we realize, then, what powers are available because that is true? The God who ignited the sun and flung the stars across millions of galaxies; the Lord who created a people named Israel for himself and who has preserved their life through 3000 years; the King who defeated all the powers of evil and death on Easter morn and who still reigns as Ruler of heaven and earth; the Shepherd who first gave you the breath of life and who has watched over you and guided you through all your sufferings and joys; that God is still in his church, still in our midst, still lending us his power through his mighty Spirit to rebuild and to prosper his church. Do we not, then, have all the resources we need in him to work without fear?
More, can we not have great expectations, rather than sorrow, over the future that lies out there ahead of us and the church? Our text from Haggai is directed not only to Judah's present condition, but also to her future. "In a little while," the Lord proclaims. In that indefinite time in God's future working, he will shake the heavens and the earth and all the cosmos, to fill a new temple with treasures and a new Jerusalem with abundant life (shalom in the Hebrew, v. 9), and his kingdom will be present on earth even as it is in heaven. Haggai's message reaches out to that eschatological time when God's good purpose for his world will be complete, and all nations will come to his worship.
We have the same expectation and same hope in the church, do we not? That there lies out ahead of us all, not the sometimes desperate situations that we now find in our world, not the meagerness of our faith and the faults of our sins, not the turmoil of nations and the rule of the evil and proud, but the rule of the one God who has triumphed over all principalities and powers in our crucified and risen Lord. The whole New Testament -
- and indeed, the Old, and Haggai here -- announce it: That God is not through with us; that his purpose goes steadily forward; that finally every knee shall bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to God's glory. And our disappointments, our despair over the future, our tears, our sufferings will be things of the past. And earth will be fair, and life will be good and whole, and God will be our all in all.
So take courage, good people of faith, take courage. Work in his church and fear not. For the Lord God Almighty is in our midst, and his Spirit abides among us.
