“"I Will Raise It Up"”

Sunday, October 09, 2022

The past four installments of this bulletin have been focused around one theme, the fall of Jerusalem and destruction of the Temple in 586 BC.  We’ve focused on the spiritual side of things, and stayed light on historical details, trying to take as much of a God’s-eye view as possible, because God had more in mind than simply punishing his wayward people.  He had big plans.

Each previous installment in the series has referred to the book of Lamentations, usually more than once.  This book consists of five poems from the perspective of those who witnessed the siege and destruction, and it represents their attempt to comprehend and cope with the horrors they saw with their own eyes, despite thinking they could never happen.  Progressing from one poem to the next, we find major developments, like the admission of Israel’s guilt in chapter 1.  Next, in chapter 2, we see the realization God didn’t just allow their downfall, but actually caused it, as he’d promised he would, on account of their sins.  In chapter 3 the poet recalls God’s faithfulness, and therefore finds hope that the story isn’t over.  But chapter 4 is a plunge back into sorrow and misery, as the witness recalls the atrocities committed:

Happier were the victims of the sword

                       than the victims of hunger,

        who wasted away, pierced

                       by lack of the fruits of the field.

The hands of compassionate women

                       have boiled their own children;

        they became their food

                       during the destruction of the daughter of my people. (Lamentations 4.9-10)

There’s no ray of hope for the remainder of the book.  It ends with a helpless plea for restoration, capped off by a nagging doubt:

        Renew our days as of old—

unless you have utterly rejected us,

        and you remain exceedingly angry

        with us. (Lametnations 5.21-22)

We previously saw that Jesus’ crucifixion mirrors what happened to Jerusalem.  It was according to God’s plan, because of man’s sin.  Jesus is God in the flesh, and dwelt among the Jews in a far greater sense than the cloud that used to fill the tabernacle or Temple.  Yet, just as they pushed God away in the old days, so they did again—killing his mortal body, this time.  The killers didn’t realize it right away, but it was a catastrophe, and some—Jesus’ disciples—did know.  And just as the exiles had been told of God’s promises of restoration, yet couldn’t quite bring themselves to believe it was true, so Jesus’ disciples had been informed of his plan to die and rise again on three separate occasions (cf. Lk 9.22, 9.44, 18.31-33); yet they, too, couldn’t quite bring themselves to fully believe it (cf. Lk 24.5-11). 

The Jewish exiles waited in despair for decades, until, right on schedule, God fulfilled his promise, down to the name of the future king who would make the decree, saying

of Cyrus, “He is my shepherd,

        and he shall fulfill all my purpose”;

saying of Jerusalem, “She shall be built,”

        and of the temple, “Your foundation

        shall be laid.” (Isaiah 44.28)

Jesus’ disciples waited in despair for three days, until, right on schedule, God fulfilled his promise and raised his Son from the grave.

But there’s a big difference, too: the Second Temple was a hollow imitation of the First.  The most important holy object was the ark of the covenant, with its mercy seat—God’s earthly throne, over which his Presence dwelt in a cloud.  But the ark had been taken by the Babylonians, and was never recovered; and it didn’t matter much anyway, because God’s Presence had already left (Eze 10.18-19), and now it was just a big, heavy box with a lot of gold to salvage.  Of the Second Temple God said, “I will fill this house with glory” (Hg 2.7), but there was no ark, no mercy seat, no throne for him in the Most Holy Place.  His Presence didn’t enter the Temple again, until Joseph brought the infant Jesus there, “to present him to the Lord” (Lk 2.22).

Yet when Jesus rose, rather than a lesser “temple” (Jn 2.21), his new one was better—a “glorious body” (Php 3.21).  There’s more.  The rebuilt Temple meant a great revival to the Jewish nation.  God described it in Ezekiel 37 as a valley of skeletal remains rising up at his command, joining together, growing new flesh and skin, then finally being inspired with the wind itself at God’s command, becoming living souls once more.

“Behold, they say, ‘Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are indeed cut off.’ …Thus says the Lord God: Behold, I will open your graves and raise you from your graves, O my people. And I will bring you into the land of Israel. …And I will put my Spirit within you, and you shall live…” (Ezekiel 37.11-14)

He was talking about the restoration, the return, and the rebuilding; but more importantly, he was talking about what Jesus would do, 5 centuries later.  He offers both a spiritual resurrection, and a bodily one. 

We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.

        For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. (Romans 6.4-5)

Death awaits us all, and no matter what form it takes, it will be a catastrophe.  It’s our own fault; it’s the result of sin—Adam’s and our own—but we have no reason to wait around in confusion and despair, wondering why a life so beautiful, on the good earth God created, should be destined for destruction.  God has told us, and shown us the end of the story.  Be faithful to him, obey his commands, and wait patiently to see his salvation.

Jeremy Nettles

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