beholding the glory

Zechariah has been a good read this week.

The four riders; the horns and the blacksmiths smashing them; the man with the tape measure; the adversary rebuked and Joshua’s new clothes (what a picture, Revelation 12!); the lampstand and the two olive trees; the flying scroll (at least Zechariah didn’t have to make a meal out of his scroll); the woman in a basket; the four chariots.

A rich prophetic tapestry for a people who needed an infusion of hope.

Haggai and Zechariah were the tag team that got Israel moving again after a twenty year stall upon their return home. Haggai was terse, a man of few words. Zechariah lingered with vivid colors and dramatic images. Between the two of them, they sparked a fresh revival.

Revival is an interesting word in our religious heritage and lingo. Often we primarily associate it with fiery meetings with wild charismatic manifestations. Our focus tends to be on what’s happening under the tent (or roof). It’s been a while since I read it, but Jonathan Edwards, who had a bit of experience with revivals happening under such tents, commented at length that the sign of a true, genuine revival is what you would see on the streets and in the homes a year later when you went back and visited. As Wilberforce would have put it, you would have witnessed a radical “reformation of manners” among the people.

Zechariah’s passionate message stirred a people to stay, to build, and to weather the uncertainties of their times. The temple was completed, and they moved forward – and readily received the next “workers on the wall” that God would send: Ezra the priestly scribe and then Nehemiah the cupbearer turned builder and governor. Each brought their physical and spiritual building among them – some of who were more ready than others. And then they waited.

As the voice of the prophets stilled, and the pagan nations remained over them, they waited.

As temple was desecrated, the hammer of revolution was raised, and miraculous lights were lit on holy ground reconsecrated, they waited.

Zechariah didn’t have the elaborate Ezekiel vision of a new temple stretching on chapter after chapter, but I caught his breathless excitement over what would happen “on the big day”:

What a day that will be!
No more cold nights – in fact, no more nights! The Day is coming – the timing will be God’s – when it will be continuous day. Every evening will be a fresh morning.

What a day that will be!

Fresh flowing rivers out of Jerusalem, half to the eastern sea, half to the western sea, flowing year-round, summer and winter!

God will be king over all the earth, one God and only one.

What a day that will be.

Zechariah 14:6-9 (The Message, of course)

How we need Zechariah hearts among us, in us, stirring holy imagination, enflaming our hearts, firing our minds, and delivering us from souless eyes that see only a darkened and wanting landscape. Delivering us from the inward turn of skepticism and critical carping as we turn inward upon ourselves with our backs to a cold world of night. Giving us Spirit eyes to see the glories of the Big Day already blooming all around us, glowing from downcast and dim faces just waiting to be awakened.

Eyes beholding the Glory.