John Mark Hicks

My Wednesday evening class–about 25 of us on average–have walked through Zechariah together. We began in January and finished Zechariah 14 last week (May 16). They are a patient bunch! It has been an exciting ride. The good news present in Zechariah is tailored for a disappointed people. Their hopes, dreams and expectations had not been fulfilled. Though returned to the land, they still lived in exile in several senses (especially under pressure from the surrounding nations and existing as a backwater province of the Persian Empire).

While we noted the Messianic and Eschatological (“last days”) allusions and hopes throughout the book, it was important to read the whole before offering any definitive interpretations. In particular, the question is what the promises and when and where will they find their fulfillment? Before moving to that question, first, a brief summary of Zechariah 9-14.

Summary of Zechariah 9-14

The basic theme is the establishment of the reign of Yahweh over the whole earth (14:9), inclusive of the house of David and Jerusalem as God’s dwelling place (12:7-9) to which the nations come (14:16-19). This will involve the deliverance of Israel from exile and oppression through restoration to their land (9:1-8, 14-17; 10:6-12) while at the same time defeating the nations that oppose God’s reign (12:4-5). Both the nations and the worthless shepherds (leaders) of Israel are judged (10:3; 11:4-6). Israel will be cleansed (13:1-6) and Jerusalem plundered (14:1-2). In the process of this establishment of Yahweh’s reign, his appointed leader (the Messianic shepherd from the house of David) is received (9:9), rejected (11:4-17; 12:10) and then reappears (12:7-9) to inaugurate the fullness of the reign of God over the whole earth. On that day—when Yahweh stands on the Mount of Olives—there will be no night, no drought, no curse, and no barriers to entrance into Jerusalem (14:4-15). On that day, the nations will come to Jerusalem to worship and everything will be inscribed “Holy to the Lord” (14:16-21).

Interpretative Options

It is difficult to reduce different ways of reading Zechariah 9-14 to brief summaries. Hopefully these summaries are generally accurate though particular representatives may vary to one degree or another. In general, I see six major ways of reading Zechariah 9-14 in terms of attempting to answer the questions of what, where and when.

1. The text addresses a contemporary situation that the prophet expects to be resolved in his own context. Consequently, the text might be read as a piece of Jewish nationalistic hopes that might find expression in the Maccabean period or some failed hope in the Persian or Hellenistic periods. (Historical Criticism)
2. The text is fulfilled in the ministry and passion of Jesus who comes as Messiah to cleanse and liberate Israel.  However, this liberation is not a nationalistic one but rather the renewal of Israel that establishes a community inclusive of the nations. Consequently, the passage is fulfilled in the Church and there are no Jewish nationalistic hopes entailed. (Amillennialism)
3. Including point 2, the text also describes the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 C.E. by the Romans and the resultant expansion of the Church throughout the world (nations). The New Jerusalem is interpreted as the Church. (Preterism)
4. Without denying 2 or 3, the text also describes a historical period of the Church prior to the second coming of the Messiah where the Church triumphantly reigns in the world—a kind of Golden Age of the Church which will precede the second coming of Christ. (Postmillennialism)
5. Though there is some sense in which 2 & 3 are true, the text ultimately describes the last days when God will revive nationalistic Israel and it will come under attack from the nations. But God will deliver Israel by the second coming of Christ and inaugurate a thousand-year reign upon the earth from Jerusalem with a rebuilt temple. (Premillennialism)
6. Understanding 2 and 3 as the first or initial stage of (“already”) fulfillment, the text also anticipates the (“not yet”) new creation when God will recreate the heavens and earth as new and the New Jerusalem will descend to the new earth within which God and Christ will reign forever with the resurrected saints. (New Creationism)

Hermeneutical Lens for the Early Church

As a Christian reader of Zechariah and one committed to the story narrated in the Gospels and Epistles, it is important for me to hear how the New Testament reads Zechariah 9-14. Mark Black, my colleague at Lipscomb University, wrote his dissertation on how the Gospels read Zechariah 9-14.  He summarized his conclusion in this way:

“What the early church discovered after being led to Zech. 9-14 is a whole eschatological schema which involved the sending of the messiah; his subsequent rejection, suffering, and death; the repentance, cleansing, and restoration which would follow the death; and the resurrection of the saints which would follow in the messianic kingdom.” (Mark Black, “The Rejected and Slain Messiah Who Is Coming with His Angels: The Messianic Exegesis of Zechariah 9-14 in the Passion Narrative” [Ph.D., Emory University, 1990], 239.)

Early Christians used Zechariah 9-14 as a lens through which to understand and interpret the story of Jesus. They saw him as the triumphal king riding into Jerusalem on a donkey, but also the rejected shepherd who was pierced (killed). They also saw Jesus as the king who would inaugurate the reign of Yahweh upon the earth and return to deliver Jerusalem from the nations. They saw Jesus as both a historical (one who rode a donkey into Jerusalem and was killed by the authorities) and an eschatological (one who would bring the “last days” and ultimately the fullness of the Messianic kingdom) figure–though we don’t want to make that distinction a radical one.

The two charts below identify Gospel and Revelation texts that (1) understand the story of Jesus in the Gospel through the lens of Zechariah 9-14, and (2) understand the eschatological goal (“the end”) through the lens of Zechariah 14. The first chart establishes that early Christians believed the ministry and passion of Jesus were “fulfillments” of Zechariah 9-14.  The second chart establishes that Revelation understood Zechariah 14 in particular as “fulfilled” in the age to come, that is, the new age of the new heavens and new earth in the New Jerusalem.

I advocate interpretative option six though not with any absolute certainty. It seems to me that, though the drama began with the ministry and passion of Jesus, the ultimate hope in Zechariah 9-14 is yet future. In the New Creation, the living water of the New Jerusalem will nourish the earth and the nations will come to Jerusalem to worship–a time of healing for the nations.  The name of God will be inscribed on every forehead. God will reign over the whole earth from Jerusalem.

Zechariah 9-14 and the Story of Jesus[1]

Zechariah 9-14 and Revelation

Reading Zechariah 9-14 with Two Vistas:

1. The first vista is the ministry, passion and resurrection of Jesus (first chart). The church understood that Zechariah 9-14 was enacted in some form in the story of Jesus. This inaugurated the “last days” (the eschatological age).
2. The second stage is the second coming of Jesus to bring the New Jerusalem to the new earth under the new heavens as anticipated in Revelation 21-22 (second chart). This consummates or ends the “last days” (the eschatological age).

After Jesus cleansed the temple, he was incessantly confronted by temple authorities and other leaders within the Jewish community. They peppered him with questions hoping he might say something that might undermine his popularity with the people or endanger his life from the Romans. Eventually, however, they backed off, and now Jesus becomes more proactive. He goes on the offensive.

This section is the backend of the “temple narrative” which began when Jesus entered the temple on the day of his triumphal entry, looked around and went back to Bethany (Mark 11:1-11). The next day he exercised his kingdom authority by clearing the temple of exploitive merchandisers. Now at the end of this narrative, where Jesus is teaching in the temple courts, Jesus asserts his authority and compares his ministry with the temple authorities. In other words, the Son has come to assess how the vineyard is being run and his judgment is that the authorities should be replaced. This involves, ultimately, purifying the temple, that is, the destruction of the temple (Mark 13) and building a new one (resurrection).

This section (Mark 12:35-13:3) hangs together as Jesus’ proactive judgment against the temple complex. The discussion of Psalm 110 (Mark 12:35-37) asserts his authority over the temple, the contrast between the scribes and the widows asserts his judgment against the ruling class (Mark 12:38-44), and the announcement of the temple’s destruction asserts his judgment against the temple itself (Mark 13:1-3). There are several literary clues that connect these three episodes into one story, one judgment, which justifies the cleansing of the temple that occurred on the previous day.

The first episode, the question about Psalm 110, answers the temple authorities’ original question in Mark 11:28: “by what authority are you doing these things”? In other words, who gave you the right to cleanse the temple? Jesus’ response is essentially that while the Messiah is a descendent (“son”) of David, the Messiah is also much more, that is, he is David’s “Lord.”

Psalm 110 was often read in a Messianic way by Second Temple Judaism. The question Jesus raised is the juxtaposition of two assertions: (1) Psalm 110 is Messianic and (2) the Messiah is a “son of David.” Psalm 110 is an enthronement Psalm. The exalted king will reign until all enemies are crushed and the nations are judged. Further, he will function as a priest like the royal Melchizedek in Genesis 14. Psalm 110 envisions a royal priesthood that defeats the enemies of God as a warrior King.

By quoting Psalm 110, Jesus asserts his Messianic authority to judge God’s enemies, including the temple authorities. Thus, he has authority to cleanse the temple. He does this not only as David’s son, but also David’s Lord. The enthronement scene, which is interpreted elsewhere in the New Testament in terms of the resurrection and ascension of Jesus to the right hand of God, envisions the reign of the Messiah in a new temple which is the temple of Jesus’ own resurrected body. Jesus is more than a son of David; he is (will be) the resurrected Lord of the earth who defeats all the enemies of God, including death. By quoting Psalm 110, Jesus anticipates his own resurrection and thus the rebuilding of the temple in his own body.

The second episode employs a strong contrast between wealth and poverty. It is difficult to decide whether Mark 12:38-40 is an independent saying or whether it should be closely aligned with Mark 12:41-44. I assume that they contextualize each other, that is, Mark combines these in order to strengthen the contrast between the wealthy, favored scribes and the poor, oppressed widows.

The scribes are described not only as those who are noticed and “first,” but also those who “devour widow’s houses.” Their dress (usually long white robes) identified them, their prayers were long to demonstrate their knowledge and erudition, and they were noticed (greeted) in the marketplace. They were the center of attention and they were honored with “first place” (proto). They were “first” in the synagogue (protokathedrias) and at meals (protoklisias). Culture exalted them and everyone wanted to appear with them.

But they exploited widows! What does Jesus mean by this statement? Within the narrative it prepares us for the contrast between the rich and the widow, but it also alerts us to Jesus’ critique of the temple complex. The temple economy, in some way, exploited widows; it placed a burden on widows that oppressed them.

How did the temple complex exploit widows? Some suggest that scribes were often given trusteeship over widow’s estates. Since women could not administer it for themselves, scribes were given the task. This, of course, had tremendous potential for abuse. Others, and this seems more likely, suggest that the contrast between abuse and prayers indicates that this was a temple problem. Perhaps the excessive costs of maintaining the temple devoured the resources of the poor. The economy of the temple, then, is Jesus’ point of attack just as it was when he cleansed the temple. The temple was supposed to be a house of prayer rather than a means of economic exploitation.

This exploitation is illustrated in the contrast between the contributions of the wealthy out of their abundance and the meager contribution of the poor widow. Read in this way, the story about the widow is not so much a praise for how the poor give all they have but rather a lament that the temple economy exploits such widows while the rich give out of their abundance (cf. Wright, CBQ [1982], 262]. When Jesus sat “facing” the temple treasury—which consisted of thirteen trumpet-shaped chests in the Court of Women—this signals that he intends to scrutinize (etheorei) this economic activity.

The Jesus’ saying, emphasized by calling his disciples to him (their first appearance since Mark 11:27) and introduced by “Amen” solemnity, draws a stark contrast between the many rich who give out of their abundance and the single poor widow who gives out of her poverty. The rich given abundantly, but the widow gives everything, which is nothing more than the smallest valued coins in Palestine. Practically, she gives nothing but yet she gives everything. The rich continue to be rich but the widow now has nothing. The temple complex, a place of prayer, devours widows! The widow is a victim of the system that imposes duties on her for the sake of supporting the temple complex. The economic system oppressed the widows while it empowered and gave status to the rich. Churches and televangelists do the same when they extract gifts from the poor to support their wealthy structures.

In the third episode, Jesus exits the temple which alerts us to the conclusion of the controversy narrative (Mark 11:27-12:44). His exit may be interpreted as an act of disgust as if he is done with the temple. He does not return to it in Mark’s narrative. This disgust contrasts with the marvel of his disciples who are impressed with the size of the Herodian stones and the beauty of the temple complex.

But Jesus is in no mood to revel in the beauty of the buildings. Jesus recognizes their “greatness,” but he is unimpressed. He knows the future of these stones. The Herodian temple will be destroyed. Jesus announces the divine judgment to his disciples. Just as in the days of Nebuchadnezzar, so in the days of Roman oppression, the temple is given over to destruction. God will judge the tenants of his vineyard and destroy the temple.

Exiting the temple and crossing the Kidron Valley to ascend the Mount of Olives, Jesus sat opposite the temple. The narrative stressed the determined attitude of Jesus. He sat facing (katenanti) the temple (Mark 13:3) just as he sat facing the temple treasury a few moments earlier (Mark 12:41). This is a dramatic moment in the Markan narrative. He “faces” the temple—he looks it in the eye, discerns its evil and repudiates it.

It is a settled conviction. Judgment is coming. He has prefigured it in the cleansing of the temple, he announced it through the cursing of the fig tree, and now he will tell his disciples the story of temple’s horrid end.

This piece from David Lipscomb in 1866 speaks for itself. “The spirit of the church must be changed–radically changed in this respect,” he writes, “before it can be truly the Church of Christ.”

“The crowning characteristic of the Christian religion in the esteem of its founder, is that the “poor have the gospel preached to them.” The church that fails to exhibit that its first, most important work is to preach the gospel to poor, has utterly failed to appreciate the true spirit of its mission, and the character of work it was established to perform. The congregation of true worshippers of Jesus Christ always exhibits the greatest anxiety to have the poor preached to. In all of its provisions for worship, the comfort and accommodation of the poor must be its first object. The congregation that erects the costly and elegant edifice, that furnishes the floor, the seats, the altar, the communion table, in such a manner, that makes the poor feel that they are not for them, cannot be the Church of Christ. The congregation whose members dress in the “fine linen and purple” of wealth, whose equipages and bearing are of a character to prevent a home-feeling in the plainly dressed, humble poor, in their midst, is not a congregation in which the spirit of the Redeemer dwells. The individual, man or woman, who attends meeting in such style of dress, that the poor, plainly clad laborer is made to feel the unpleasant contrast in their equipages, is an enemy of the religion of Jesus Christ. The poor of the land are driven from the religious services of the so-called Church of Christ, because the whole surroundings at those services, plainly say by their costly and gilded equipments that they are for the rich, not for the poor. The profession of Christianity, has well nigh run into the sheerest mockery of the religion of primitive times upon this very point. Where is the house for worship in the city or the country, that is now builded with a view of its adaptation to the wants and customs of the poor, and not rather to exhibit the tastes and minster to the pride of the rich? The poor fail to attend religious worship, especially in the cities, not because they are less disposed to be religious than the rich, but because the pomp, dress, parade, equipages and style of these services declare plainly to them, they are not for you. The spirit of the church must be changed–radically changed in this respect, before it can be truly the Church of Christ. The thousands of the poor in the cities and in the country, must be sought out –preached to–must have congregations whose dress, style, manners and associations will draw them, rather than repel them from them, and these congregations, so conforming themselves to the true spirit of the Gospel, and adapting their habits to the necessities of the poor, will alone constitute THE CHURCH OF CHRIST.”

David Lipscomb, “The Spirit of the Church,” Gospel Advocate 8 (13 February 1866) 107-108.

May 21 is a dark day in my own history. Joshua died eleven years ago today at the age of sixteen. I offer this chapter out of my ebook on The Shack and spiritual recovery in his honor.

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Oh, the depths of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God!
How unsearchable his judgments,
and his paths beyond tracing out!
“Who has known the mind of the Lord? Or who has been his counselor?”

Romans 11:33-34 (NIV)

The death of a child, especially the brutal murder of Missy, raises passionate questions about God’s handling of the world. Mack’s “last comment” to the Triune God around the breakfast table on that first morning was something we have all thought at one time or another: “I just can’t imagine any final outcome that would justify all this” (p. 127).

There it is. Bold. In God’s face. It is almost a gauntlet challenging God’s own imagination, his own resources—his wisdom and knowledge. Can anything justify the evil in the world?

This is the problem of theodicy, that is, the justification of God. Why does God create a world in which evil is so pervasive, strong and unruly? Why does he give evil this space to grow? When a cyclone kills over 130,000 in Myanmar, an earthquake snuffs out the lives of 80,000 more in China, and a tsunami kills about 20,000 in Japan, I have little interest in defending or justifying God.

When my son dies of a genetic disorder after watching him slowly degenerate over ten years and I learn of the tragic death of a friend’s son (John Robert Dobbs)—both dying on the same date, May 21—I have little interest in defending or justifying God.

How could I possibly defend any of that? I suppose I could remove God from responsibility by disconnecting him from his creation but I would then still have a God who decided to be a Deist. That’s no comfort—it renders God malevolent or at least disinterested. I prefer to say God is involved and he decides to permit (even cause–though I would have no way of knowing which is the case in any particular circumstance) suffering. I would prefer to hold God responsible for the world he created and how the world proceeds.

I’m tired of defending him. Does God really need my feeble, finite, and fallible arguments in his defense? Perhaps some need to hear a defense—maybe it would help, but I also know it is woefully inadequate at many levels. God does not need my defense as much as God needs to encounter people in their crises. My arguments will not make the difference; only God’s presence will.

I know the theodices and I have attempted them myself. Young utilizes a few of them. A free-will theodicy that roots evil in the free choices of human beings does not help me with earthquakes, genetics and cyclones. It certainly does not explain why God does not answer the prayers of his people with compassionate protection from such. A soul-making theodicy that says God permits evil to develop our characters does not explain the quantity and quality of suffering in the world. Suffering sometimes breaks souls rather than making them. There are other theodicies and combinations, but I find them all pastorally inadequate and rationally unsatisfying.

My rationalizations have all shipwrecked on the rocks of experience in a hurting and painful world. The way I most often approach God in the midst of suffering is now protest, a form of lament.

Does God have a good reason for the pervasive and seemingly gratuitous nature of suffering in the world? I hope he does—I even believe he does, but I don’t know what the reasons are nor do I know anyone who does. My hope is not the conclusion of a well-reasoned, solid inductive/deductive argument but is rather the desperate cry of the sufferer who trusts that the Creator has good intentions and purposes for his creation. I believe there is a Grand Purpose that overcomes the Great Sadness.

Lament is not exactly a theodicy, but it is my response to suffering. It contains my complaint that God is not doing more (Psalm 74:11), my questions about “how long?” (Psalm 13:1), my demand to have my “Why?” questions answered (Psalm 44:24), and my disillusionment with God’s handling of the world (Job 21, 23-24). It is what I feel; it is my only “rational” response to suffering.

I realize that I am a lowly creature whose limitations should relativize my protest (as when God came to Job). But, as with Job and the Psalmists, I continue to lament—I continue because I have divine permission to do so! Of all “people,” I must be honest with God, right? I recognize that my feeble laments cannot grasp the transcendent glory of the one who created the world and I realize that were God to speak he would say to me something of what he told Job. But until he speaks….until he comforts…until he transforms the world, I will continue to speak, lament and protest.

But that response is itself insufficient. I protest, but I must also act.

As one who believes the story of Jesus, I trust that God intends to redeem, heal and renew this world. As a disciple of Jesus, I am committed to imitate his compassion for the hurting, participate in the healing, and sacrifice for redemption. I am, however, at this point an impatient disciple.

Does this mean that there are no comforting “words” for the sufferer? No, I think the story itself is a comfort; we have a story to tell but we must tell it without rationalizing or minimizing creation’s pain. We have a story to tell about God, Israel and Jesus. God loves us despite the seeming evidence to the contrary. God listens to our protests despite our anger and disillusionment. God empathizes with our suffering through the incarnation despite our sense that no one has suffered like we have. God reigns over his world despite the seeming chaos. God will defeat suffering and renew his creation despite its current tragic condition. The story carries hope in its bosom and it is with hope that we grieve.

Mack could not “imagine any final outcome that would justify” all the evil in the world. This is something that Mack says before he sits on the judgment seat before Sophia, but it is a function of the judgment seat to decide what would justify evil and would not. If humans can’t imagine it, then it can’t be possible, right? And that is the crux of the problem—human imagination has become the norm rather than trusting God’s wisdom and knowledge that is beyond searching out, plotting or understanding.

Human imagination or trust in divine wisdom? Which shall we choose? The former, as a criterion, excludes the latter. The latter is patient with the former’s limitations.

But trust is the fundamental problem. At the root of distrust is the suspicion, as Papa tells Mack, “that you don’t think that I am good” (p. 126). We humans tend to trust our own imagination (or rationality) more than we trust God’s goodness. We doubt that “everything—the means, the ends, and all the processes of individual lives—is all covered by [God’s] goodness” (p. 126).

In one of the most powerful scenes in The Shack Papa acknowledges that he could “have prevented what happened to Missy.” He “could have chosen to actively interfere in her circumstance,” but he decided not to do it (p. 222). Only love enabled Mack to trust God with that decision.

We can’t imagine what could possibly justify evil? But, at one level, that is the wrong question. God’s purpose is not to justify it, but to redeem it (p. 127).

My favorite scene in Mel Gibson’s The Passion of Christ is when Jesus, carrying the cross, falls to his knees under its weight. His mother runs to him and their eyes lock. With blood streaming down his cheeks and holding the symbol of Roman power and violence, Jesus says, “Behold, mother, I make all things new.”

This is the promise of God—a new creation, new heavens and a new earth in a new Jerusalem. There the old order will pass away and the voice of God will declare: “I am making everything new” (Revelation 21:5a).

A day is coming when there will be “no more curse” (Revelation 22:3). There will be no more darkness–the glory of God will fill the earth with light. There will be no more violence–the nations will receive healing and walk by its light. There will be no more death, mourning or tears–the Tree of Life and the Water of Life will nourish the people of God forever.

That renewal, however, is not simply future but is already present. Hope saves us even now. As the Father pours out his love into our hearts by his Spirit, includes us in the Triune fellowship at his breakfast table, and walks with us in our suffering, we can experience the joy of relationship, the peace of love and the hope of renewal.

Mack discovered it when he learned to trust. We will too.

This is the climax, as well as the conclusion, of message of Zechariah.It is the “mountain top” of Zechariah.

The first half of Zechariah promised God’s return to Jerusalem through the rebuilding of the temple (Zechariah 1-8; cf. 2:5). The eight visions promised renewal and prosperity for Judah and Jerusalem. But it also envisioned a time when the nations would live among the children of Jacob and know Yahweh (cf. Zechariah 2:11). The first half ends with nations coming to Jerusalem to know God (Zechariah 8:20-23).

The second half of Zechariah describes a day when Ephraim and Judah will fully inherit and inhabit the land promised to Abraham (Zechariah 9-14). Though Yahweh refines and purifies Israel through judgment, ultimately Yahweh will come to Jerusalem, defeat the nations and Yahweh will reign over the whole earth. This second half of Zechariah ends on the same note as the first half as the nations come to Jerusalem to know God (Zechariah 14:16-19).

In particular, on that day—an apocalyptic, eschatological day—Yahweh will pour out grace on Israel (12:10), rid the land of idolatry and false prophets (13:2, 4), stand on the Mount of Olives to level the hills of Judah and exalt the holy hill of Zion (14:3-5), rid the creation of darkness (14:6-7), water the land with a river flowing from Jerusalem (14:8-9), and reign “over the whole earth” (14:10). With the nations (evil) defeated and Jerusalem secured, Yahweh invites the “survivors from all the nations” to rest in the divine presence (14:16-21).

The survivors, presumably those who turned to God in the preceding drama, will make an annual pilgrimage to Jerusalem “to worship the King, Yahweh Almighty.” The whole earth now worships the God of Israel. This even includes Egypt (Zechariah 14:18). The echoes of the Exodus and the plagues upon Egypt in Zechariah 14:12-14 are now transformed into the gracious invitation and hope that Egypt will participate in the worship of Yahweh. This is a total reversal—Egypt comes to Jerusalem!

The climactic rhetoric of Zechariah 14:16-21 pictures a celebrative festival at Jerusalem to which the whole earth is invited. In fact, the specific feast is identified—it is the Feast of Tabernacles. Sometimes called the “feast of booths” because Israel lived in tents during the feast as a reminder of their wanderings in the wilderness, the festival was a time of rejoicing and gratitude.

The Feast of Tabernacles celebrates God as both Creator and Redeemer. Worshiping the Creator, the Feast rejoices over the fall harvest and thus acknowledges God as the provider of that harvest (Deuteronomy 16:13-17). But the Feast also anticipates the fall plantings and a harvest from the winter crop (which is celebrated at Pentecost). Consequently, the festival may have employed water rituals that involved prayers for rain as rain is necessary for the survival of crops in a land without irrigation (cf. John 7:38). Yahweh provides the rain (not Baal!). Rain was even necessary for Egypt since a drought in the southern highlands would prevent the flooding of the Nile. Rain here, however, may only symbolize the blessings of God in the land since living water now flows from Jerusalem itself. Whatever the case, the Festival expresses gratitude to the Creator who provides in this new day just as God did in the wilderness and as God did in creation.

The feast also celebrated Yahweh as Redeemer. For Israel the Feast of Tabernacles reminded Israel that God had delivered them from Egypt (Leviticus 23:39-43). Israel was freed from Egyptian slavery and now the whole earth has been liberated from the rule of the nations. The nations, though they exist presumably as ethnic groups, no longer reign; Yahweh reigns.

During the time of Nehemiah and Ezra, the Torah was read during the Feast of Tabernacles (Nehemiah 8:14-18). This not only informed the worshippers but it was also a renewal of their covenant with God. Just as Israel heard the law and agreed to keep it at Mount Sinai (Exodus 24), so at the Feast of the Tabernacles Israel again renews their allegiance to Yahweh alone. Astoundingly, now the nations will hear the law, enter into covenant with God and worship Yahweh. They will now participate in and become part of the story of Israel.

That day is a new day. When Egypt and all the nations come to Jerusalem, it is a new day. This newness spreads throughout the whole of life. “Holy to the Lord” becomes the common inscription, not only on the High Priest’s head plate (Exodus 28:36-38), but upon every cooking pot in the temple, even every pot in Jerusalem and Judah itself.

The Feast of Tabernacles involved fellowship offerings where the sacrifices offered were eaten at a meal by the worshippers (pictured in this text as boiled in the cooking pots). The need for cooking utensils would have been huge (the temple had an eating area for the priests, cf. Ezekiel 46:21-24), and every cooking utensil is deemed holy, that is, dedicated to the Lord. This is actually the breakdown of sacred and secular. When Yahweh reigns over the whole earth, everything is “Holy to the Lord.”

And the unclean become clean. Just as in creation there was no distinction between ritually clean and unclean animals, so in this new day there are no unclean animals. This is expressed by the opening note that even the “bells of the horses” will be inscribed “Holy to the Lord.” The horse, according to Leviticus (11:1-8), is an unclean animal, but it is no longer. On this day, it is holy to the Lord.

As the whole of Jerusalem and Judah is identified as “Holy to the Lord,” it is expected that nothing unholy would be found there. Consequently, “on that day, there will no longer be a Canaanite in the house of the Lord Almighty.” The term “Canaanite” might refer to the ethnic group that Israel displaced in the Joshua Conquest, but it is more likely referring to a merchant class. This epitaph was used to describe (dishonest?) traders (cf. Hosea 12:7; Zephaniah 1:11; Zechariah 11:7; Isaiah 23:8; Prov. 31:24) and here used to refer to merchandisers within the temple complex. In other words, (dishonest?) traders will no longer participate in the temple business. There is no need; God will provide. Everything is “Holy to the Lord.”

The new day will sanctify all of Jerusalem and Judah. The nations will come to worship Yahweh and celebrate God’s goodness as Creator and Redeemer. Unclean will become clean, and everything is deemed “Holy to the Lord.” Everything belongs to Yahweh since Yahweh reigns over the whole earth.

When will these things be? Or, are they now? Or, have they already been?  Next post, please.

In the late 1870s several noticed a decline in church attendance among the urban poor. David Lipscomb offers his own opinion as to why there is such a decline which, he thinks, is primarily a northern phenomenon (though he does think New Orleans may fit).

The urban poor do not participate in urban church life because most urban churches cater to the wealthy and rich. They build “fine houses” whose surroundings are unsuited to the working class, employ articulate, educated ministers whom the poor do not understand, and they seek monied classes because money is the life-blood of their grand buildings and educated ministry.

While the poor received Jesus gladly, they do not flock to the urban churches whose edifices are geared toward the cultured, educated and wealthy. The reason why this is the case is obvious to Lipscomb. They do not reject the “religion of Christ,” but they reject the power, wealth and pride of Christianity’s teachers. Even when these churches set up parachurch organizations that reach out to the poor the distance between rich and poor is maintained as the church folk are not in the homes of the poor sharing their meals and trials.

When Christianity assumes power and sides with the wealthy, the poor are oppressed. They are driven away by the wealth. Jesus, according to Lipscomb, walked with the poor, became poor for their sakes and ministered to the poor. Churches ought, to follow the model of Jesus, situate themselves so that the poor feel at home in their communities. Churches should function incarnatinally, that is, become poor so that the poor might hear the good news.

This is a recurrent theme in the history of the church. We see it prominently when the church became a state power as monastics sought a simpler live in the fourth century. We see it in the early thirteenth century with the rise of the poverty-oriented Franciscans. We see it in the sixteenth century with some of the early Anabaptists. Lipscomb is part of this tradition as he advocates for the poor and calls the church to modesty and simplicity for the sake of the poor.

*****

David Lipscomb, “Church Pews,” Gospel Advocate 20 (5 December 1878) 762.

We print in another column an article on the decrease in attendance at religious services and contributions in the cities. It is from the Cincinnati Commercial. We take it from the Christian Standard, which republishes it, and while recognizing its truthfulness, endeavors to explain why it is so in Cincinnati especially. We suppose there is less of this tendency to neglect religious services in our Southern cities than in those further North, new Orleans perhaps, excepted. We have not the least doubt but that the public school system there has done much to spread infidelity int he land. Wit it comes an indifference to religious services, and the spending of the Lord’s day in frolic and pleasure-seeking. But the influence is spreading in all our cities. The writer in the Commercial gives some of the reasons that are doubtless correct. The effort to adopt everything to the desires and tastes of the rich and cultured has its influence to impress upon the people the idea that none save the rich and cultured are desired in the church. The surroundings plainly say that the ignorant, the poor, the rude, the unrefined are not needed here. But we are persuaded that there is still more than this. The preaching is of a character that suits the wealthy, the educated, the cultured. It is illy adapted to the understanding of the poor, the ignorant, the uncultured. He feels that the preaching is no more adapted to his  needs than the surroundings to his condition.

The poor and the rich themselves see the utter failure to reproduce the religion of Christ in the church work and life. Christ came to the poor and adapted himself to the surroundings and wants of the poor. All the surroundings of his religion were simple, plain and unostentatious. They were such as did not require large amounts of money to maintain them. The teachers of that religion were men of simplicity and self-sacrifice. They lived in a style that they were at home with the humble, the plain, the unlettered, the poor.

All this is greatly changed. The places of worship now are costly, showy, extravagantly built and furnished. The teachers in our cities seek to conform to the habits of the wealthy, seek their association and are not at home or in sympathy with the poor. Their style and habits of life require large sums of money, so that they are dependent upon and court the favor of the rich. The feeling of dependence upon the rich makes them wink at the sins, wrongs and crimes of the rich, until it has come to be recognized as true that a rich many will never be disciplined in a church. House are built, furnished, and religious worship so conducted that none can fail to see that the spirit of gospel is lost in these churches in the anxiety to attract the rich and cultured. They for whose favor these principles are forsaken, despise the treason to principles and to Christ that is made, and the poor known that it is not the church of Christ as he formed it.

When church privileges are provided for the poor as in the Bethel Mission spoken of, it is in a different association or home from the rich who provide. The distinctions of wealth are still kept up. The poor man is told to set ye there in that lowly seat, and the is made to feel that he is not the brother of the rich.

The effort to adapt religious worship and church surroundings to the taste of the wealthy, the refined, and cultured, creates the demand for immense sums of money to sustain the church services. They court the rich, they wink at the sins of those who are able to pay, but it is a source of demoralization to the teacher. He dare not teach the whole will of God to man. What preacher ever teaches the necessity of honesty, uprightness and integrity in business? What religious paper enforces these virtues so essential to the Christian character?

The teacher is tempted to seek more to please the people than to please God. The church in turn looks over all immoralities, if he can only draw the people. Men of bad morals frequently are sustained as teachers, if they have the art of drawing the people. We know of a number of popular preachers whose reputations for common honesty in their dealings is not above reproach. Bro. Franklin told me a few years ago a very popular and respected preaching consulting him about ‘putting away his wife,’ because she had not grown as he had after marriage, and could not make the appearance in society that was expected of his wife. A man who is thus striving to please the rich and cultured cannot please God. Cannot make a Christian impression upon a community. He cannot teach a church morality. Men of the world see this catering to the world and become disgusted, not at the Christian religion, but at the pretense of it given in the life of the preacher and of the church.

The whole effort to gratify the culture of the world in artistic speaking, music and surroundings that indicate wealth and luxury, attract the idle and curious, those anxious to be entertained, for a time, but as these efforts clog, as they sooner or later will, they drive these very persons from whom heart melody, heart service, heart worship were sacrificed away from the church. It substitutes a barren, empty formality for loving, hearty, worshipful service to God. The efforts to accommodate the religion of Christ to these luxurious and artistic surroundings destroy spiritual power and spiritual earnestness.

We believe the condition of the masses in the cities in the time of the Savior and the apostles was such that they more readily appreciated the expediencies of the religion of Jesus than those in the country. We believe it would be so today could that religion be brought to them as a practical working power among and in behalf of the poor for their good, as it was in the days of Christ and the apostles.

We believe there is nothing int he people’s forsaking the popular worship of the churches that indicates a rejection of the religion of Christ. The churches, one and all in the cities, have rejected that religion in their practice. We know not a single congregation that can lay the least shadow of a claim to exemplify that religion in the church worship or work, or in the lives of its members. We do not know a church that conducts all its worship according to the teaching of the Bible. The preacher comes to constitute the church. He does the worship; the members are entertained by him and pay on time for the entertainment. When he fails to entertain them they feel there is no reason why they should attend.

We believe many forsake the worship because they are made to feel that they are nonentities in the church. A brother gave as a reasons for ceasing to attend church not long since, that he attended for four years faithfully; he was never asked to pray; he was never spoken to in reference to any church work or worship during the time. He felt the church had no use for him; he ceased to attend. We believe the reason, if justly given, a good one. If a church has nothing for a member to do, he has no business in the church. We have but little faith in reforming old organizations. We would be rejoiced to see one earnest and faithful effort in a city, to establish and operate a church among the common people in fidelity to the principles, and in accordance with practices laid down in the New Testament. We believe the common people would gladly accept this church.

When the Central Christian Church in Cincinnaiti, Ohio, completed its $140,000, 2000-seat French Gothic building in 1872, many–especially Benjamin Franklin and David Lipscomb–thought it was an outrage.  By 1892 there were rumors that the church needed to sell the building since many of its members had moved to the suburbs. The downtown, urban church could not sustain such a large, luxurious building.

Judging that the building itself was more a testament to human pride than it was to honor God, Lipscomb thought the concentration of such funds in a single building unwise–more than that, downright sinful. He preferred that instead of building one huge, lavish structure that it would have been better to build twelve modest buildings spread throughout the urban landscape.

His own history confirmed this for Lipscomb. When the “fine house” of Nashville–built in 1852 at the cost of $30,000–burned in 1857, Lipscomb rejoiced. Nashville then developed several churches over the years instead of one central congregation. Instead of one “fine house,” they had multiple “modest” houses, and the church grew in the city. Whereas in 1889,  Cincinnati only had 1000 Disciples in the city, Nashville had 2,500 (cf. Hooper, Crying in the Wilderness, 203).

Consequently, Lipscomb’s consistent counsel throughout the years was small, modest buildings rather than “fine houses.”  Smaller and more modest is better than large and lavish. This fit his own belief in the dignity and special character of the working/farming class. “The best community in the world,” he thought, “is that every man own his own land, small farms with industrious owners” (Gospel Advocate, 1875, 300). This is how1852 he thought about churches as well–relatively small, modest, every member involved, mutual edification, and shared leadership. Wealth, power and “fine houses” were corrupting influences that diverted the church from its mission to the poor and the lost.

Below is one article, among many, that articulates his perspective. In my next post, I will follow up with the theological ground that shapes Lipscomb’s perspective on “fine houses.” In the below article, Lipscomb states that building a “fine house” is to give up the “Christian spirit.” My next post will address that point.

*****

David Lipscomb, “Fine Houses for Worship,” Gospel Advoate 34 (28 January 1892) 52.

We understand the Standard calls in question our statement that there has been talk of selling the Central Church building up in Cincinnati, because too expensive to keep up. We are sure such has been the talk, and the reason was, so many of the wealthy members have moved to the suburbs and united with churches out of the city, those remaining are not able to keep the church up. We have heard of the talk down here. It come from persons doing business in Cincinnati, too.

We understand the Standard adds, that we seem to rejoice in the matter. We do not rejoice, but sorrow at the fewness or weakness of the disciples in Cincinnati, or elsewhere. This whole talk has been brought about by the society folks from Ohio and Missouri, decrying the destitution in Tennessee, in order to help fasten on us a society. We knew the cry was either hypocritical or founded on dense ignorance. We determined to expose it, so no honest man can hereafter raise the plea.

But, candidly, when the Central Church house was built and such a flourish made over it in the papers, we published that we believed it both a blunder and a sin, to put so much money in a house to be used only a few hours a week. We believed it would hinder instead of forward the cause of true religion in Cincinnati and elsewhere, hence was a blunder. We believed it a sin against God and his people to put such large sums of money in a building, when so many thousands and millions of our fellow creatures are suffering want and going down to hell for lack of the truth. We believed, and still believe, that this expenditure is not to honor God but to minister to human pride. This is sinful.

I still believe such a waste of means to gratify pomp or pride sin. I would have rejoiced if they had build a modest and economical house then. I will rejoice at anything that will now bring the church in the line of Christian propriety. Yes, I would rejoice if they would sell the house and build a dozen simple, modest houses for worship, that correspond to the principles and aims of the Christian religion. I would be glad if they would voluntarily do this without being forced to it; but, if they will not do it otherwise, I will be glad if they do it of necessity.

Once the disciples in Nashville built a fine house, when they ought to have built a half dozen modest ones. It was the occasion of trouble, and was burned up. I was in the pulpit at Philadelphia, church in Warren Co., with Bro. Nix Murphy, when I heard of it. I publicly expressed my joy at the result. I still think it was a blessing from God.

When I hear of a church setting out to build a fine house, I give that church up. Its usefulness as a church of Christ is at an end. The church at Dallas, Texas, has spent a large amount to build a house finer than any other house in the State. It has burdened itself with debt. It has shown its lack of the Christian spirit, and its promise for usefulness for the future is not flattering to my mind.

In  Arizona there is not a single preacher giving his time to reach the dying multitudes of sinners that people that State. A little handful built a house costing several thousand dollars, and have been compassing the whole land to get money to pay for it. People that star in that direction cannot convert sinners, and we believe it would be a blessed thing if the house were sold and the tempotation to travel in the wrong road taken out of their way. It is not Christian to spend the Lord’s money in this way, while sinners, ignolorant of the will of God, are dying all around them. My conscience has hurt me all th epast year at the appeals that have been made for this house through the Advocate without a protest from me. If half the money required to build this house had been spent in having the gospel preached in the State, a hundred fold more sinners would have been saved.

The brethren in Atlanta are proposing to build a thirty thousand dollar house. They do not ask my advice. None the less, I give it without cost. It will weaken instead of strengthen them. Half the money spent in preaching in the destitute suburbs of Atlanta, building a few modest houses, as needed, will save a hundred fold more sinners, and God will reward such work. He will not reward us for building houses to gratify our pride. Yes, brethren, I rejoice when you fail to build fine houses. I rejoice when you sell them. I rejoice when they are burned down and replaced with modest house that comport with the church of Christ.

The “behold” of Zechariah 14:1 (untranslated by the NIV) begins the second section of Zechariah’s second “oracle” (Zechariah 12-14). The first Section (Zechariah 12-13) was structured around the “day of the Lord” when God will renew covenant with Israel, defend Jerusalem, pour out the divine Spirit of grace, and cleanse the house of David from sin and idolatry. The second section (Zechariah 14) describes Yahweh’s triumph over the nations, the exaltation of Jerusalem and Yahweh’s reign over the whole earth.

The message of Zechariah is encouraging, promissory and climactic. At the time of Zechariah’s oracle Judah is a backwater province in the Persian Empire. It is unimportant, oppressed and impoverished. But Zechariah’s vision sees Jerusalem as the center of the world to which all the nations come to acknowledge the king of all the earth. It is a complete reversal. Whereas the Persian Emperor ruled the known earth from Mesopotamia at the time of Zechariah, in the future Yahweh will reign over the whole earth from Jerusalem.

The second oracle begins where the first one (Zechariah 9-11) left us, that is, Jerusalem is led by a “worthless shepherd” (11:17) whose self-interested leadership oppresses his own flock. This Jerusalem is filled with horrid leadership, false prophets and idolatry (Zechariah 13:2-6). That is the Jerusalem which is judged and whose plunder is divided among the nations (Zechariah 14:1).

The description of the destruction of Jerusalem by “all the nations” is typical of ANE descriptions of the fall of cities. In fact, this description echoes Isaiah’s vision of the fall of Babylon (cf. Isaiah 13:16). The city is besieged and captured, its spoils divided, half the city sent into exile, and women are sexually assaulted. “Raped and pillaged” signals the wholesale subjugation of the city by the nations. But that is not Yahweh’s final word.

Though Yahweh uses the nations to discipline Jerusalem, the warrior God of Israel will—“on that day”—fight against “those nations.” Zechariah, as in the previous oracle, uses the refrain “on that day” to describe what will happen.

On that day Yahweh will stand on the Mount of Olives. This north-south mountain ridge Is east of Jerusalem. When Yahweh appears on the mountain, mountains move as in the earthquake during the reign of Uzziah (cf. Amos 1:1-2; ca. 750 BCE). The ridge splits so that an east-west path is created. Through this pass survivors flee but also Yahweh enters Jerusalem with his “holy ones” (presumably those who had been previously exiled or scattered). Yahweh comes to Jerusalem!

On that day there will be no night. The language echoes Genesis 1, but on this day there is no “evening and morning” in the sense of night or darkness. It remains light. There is no darkness, that is, there is no more chaos. Yahweh reigns from Jerusalem and the world is filled with light. As in Revelation 22:5, Yahweh gives the light and there is no longer any night.

On that day living water will flow from Jerusalem. The city has no natural river. It depended on underground springs for its water supply. But when Yahweh arrives, the city will supply the land with “living (running) water” both east and west. The water, like the Nile in Egypt, will irrigate the land unlike anything known in ancient Judah. As in Revelation 22:1, Yahweh will provide “living water” for not only the city but for the whole earth.

On that day there will only be one King over the whole earth. Yahweh will reign from Jerusalem—the only Lord and King whose name alone is worthy of being called a “name.” Yahweh’s name will fill the earth. As in Revelation 22:3, the name of the Lord will be inscribed upon everything in the land, even the pots and pans (cf. Zechariah 14:20).

The result of these divine acts is dramatic. On the one hand, the surrounding land around Jerusalem—indeed, the whole province of Judah—will be flattened (like “Arabah”) and Jerusalem will be exalted as a city on a hill fully inhabited and with borders that remind readers of the city at its largest. The dimensions mentioned in the text are the dimensions of Jerusalem in the eighth century when the walled city was at its apex. The whole city is raised up above Judah which is now a plain where it once was wholly composed of hills. This is a massive geographical reconfiguration as it marks the prominence of Jerusalem in the whole earth.

On the other hand, Yahweh will strike the nations—those hostile to the reign of God in Jerusalem—with a plague that exceeds even the plague that Yahweh sent against Egypt. Their bodies will rot and the nations will flee in panic and confusion. Even the animals in the hostile camps are adversely affected by the trauma. But Jerusalem (and Judah!) will enjoy the spoils of the nations just as Israel did at the Exodus.

This deliverance will outstrip the Exodus itself. Not only does God strike the nations with a plague and plunder the nations, God chooses and exalts Jerusalem as the capital city of the whole earth. The reversal is pronounced. The province (Judah) and the city (Jerusalem) that in Zechariah’s time was absolutely insignificant internationally or regionally—some counties in the United States are larger than Judah was in the fifth century BCE—will, on that day, become the center of Yahweh’s reign on the earth.

As Jesus teaches in the temple courts, his opponents confront him with a series of questions. Jesus had enraged the temple authorities when he cleansed the Court of the Gentiles from merchandizers. They questioned his authority, his allegiances, and his theology. These hostile questions intended to subvert his popularity and/or endanger his life.

Now, however, a scribe—like one of those who questioned him in Mark 11:27—approaches him with some respect. While Matthew (22:35) portrays this incident as the result of a Pharisaic conspiracy to test Jesus once again, Mark is more ambiguous. Mark’s scribe was impressed with how well Jesus handled the succession of questions and consequently wonders how Jesus might answer the question that rabbis discussed among themselves: “Of all the commandments, which is the first of all?” Which commandment, he asks, ranks as “numero uno”! Which commandment is the most important?

Given that the rabbis counted 613 imperatives within the Torah, it is not surprising that there would be some discussion about which was the most important or which had priority. Allen Black (College Press NIV Commentary on Mark, 216) reminds us that many, including Jesus’ contemporary in Alexandria Philo (Who is the Heir of Divine Things, 168; Special Laws, 2.63), considered the ten commandments a summary of the Torah divided between responsibilities toward God (“piety”) and responsibilities toward people (“justice”). This two-fold categorization fits the answer Jesus himself gave: love God and love your neighbor.

Jesus identifies two commands—out of a host present in the Torah—as the first and second. “Love God” is the “first of all,” that is, it has priority, but the “second” is “love your neighbor.” The first quotes the great Shema (Hebrew for “hear”) of Deuteronomy 6:4-5 which was repeated twice daily by devout Jews in the Greco-Roman period (Allen cites Letter to Aristeas, 160; Jubilees 6:14). The second quotes Leviticus 19:18.

It seems rather amazing that Jesus could lift two isolated commands out of the Torah and identify them as first and second. The identification of the Shema as first is more understandable as its narrative function in Deuteronomy is the fountainhead of Israel’s response to God’s deliverance and land-grant recounted in Deuteronomy 1-5. Since God has graced Israel, Israel returns that grace with loving gratitude.

But the identification of Leviticus 19:18 appears more arbitrary. It seems to appear as one command in a list of others within the Holiness Code (Leviticus 18-20). Some suggest that Leviticus 19:18 functions as a summary statement in the Holiness Code, but this is not apparent. Nevertheless, Jesus recognizes its theological importance.

What enables Jesus to so clearly and succinctly identify these two texts—among many others that could have been chosen—as the first and second commandments? It is apparent that Jesus does not read Scripture as a flat text where every command is as equally important as every other command. Rather, he reads the text in a hierarchical fashion. That is, he recognizes levels of priority and importance. I suggest he reads in a narratival way such that the story (plot) of God moves us to recognize “love you neighbor” as the second greatest command. Some commands are more fundamental than others.

The scribe recognizes Jesus’ point. He repeats what Jesus quoted—and thus the narrative underscores the unparalleled significance of theses two imperatives—and also interprets the significance of prioritizing these two commands. In effect, Jesus has prioritized these two commands, according to the scribe, over “burnt offerings and sacrifices.” In other words, Jesus has prioritized loving God and neighbor over the temple, its sacrifices and their atoning significance. This does not mean that sacrifices are unimportant but rather that they are less important that what some might have thought. The two greatest commands are love God and love neighbor–and we must be careful that we don’t respond with “but….” [fill in the blank with an “important” command].

There is a tradition with the history of Israel which prioritized the sacrifices so that if one comes to the temple and offers their sacrifices, then God is pleased with them (despite their lives). This is the safety of the temple to which Jesus alluded when he cleansed the Temple as Jesus quoted from Jeremiah’s Temple sermon (Jeremiah 7). Some believed that despite their adulteries and social injustice (how they treated the poor, widows and orphans) their sacrifices were accepted because the temple represented God’s gracious presence. The second command, love your neighbor, does not sanction such an interpretation of the temple.

What makes one more fundamental than another? How are these two imperatives (“love God” and “love your neighbor”) more important than sacrifices? Perhaps we might see in “love God and love your neighbor” an act of sacrifice itself. It is the gift of ourselves to God (our whole body, soul and strength) and, in turn, to others. We are the sacrifices. This is more important than any ritual which expresses that devotion.

It reminds us that God loves mercy more than sacrifice (Hosea 6:6) or Micah’s declaration of what the Lord requires more than a thousand rams, that is, “to act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God” (Micah 6:8). We are the sacrifices which God requires (cf. Psalm 40:6-8).

The context in which Mark places this exchange underscores the importance of “love your neighbor” (quoted twice). It appears between the exploitation the money-changers practiced in the temple courts (Mark 11:15-16) for which Jesus judges the temple complex and Jesus’ accusation that the wealthy temple authorities (“scribes”) exploit widows (Mark 12:38-40). Leviticus 19:18—love your neighbor—falls between the prohibition against defrauding (robbing) your neighbor (19:13) and honest business practices (19:35). Economic justice functions prominently in the last part of the Holiness Code.

Given the temple context, controversy and practices in Mark 11-12 as well as Jesus seemingly gratuitious comment about widows, “love your neighbor” has added significance. It is, it seems, a further judgment against the temple authorities. The scribe did not ask Jesus for the second commandment. He only inquired about what was “first of all.” Jesus volunteered the second and his reference to the social injustice of the scribes later in this chapter is a narrative clue for Mark’s readers as to why.

This may explain Jesus’ rather curious (backhanded?) compliment to the scribe: “You are not far from the kingdom of God.” Jesus notes that the scribe is “thoughful” (nounechos, only here in the NT)–he has got the right mind (nous) about it, but does he practice what he knows (loving God with soul and strength?)? Jesus did not invite the scribe to follow him and he did not say he was a kingdom participant. He still seems at a distance though near. Perhaps the scribe’s involvement in the temple complex was why, though near, he was not yet a Jesus-follower.

Whatever we make of Jesus’ “compliment,” the scribe correctly affirmed kingdom priorities. The kingdom ethic is to love God and love our neighbor. It is that simple though it is far from simple; easy to grasp perhaps, but difficult to live. The kingdom is rooted, grounded and expressed in love—God’s love for us, our love for God and our love for each other.

It is rather sobering, however, to consider whether, possibly like the scribe, we are “not far from the kingdom of God.” Is it possible that we might affirm but not practice the two greatest commands? Is it possible that we might know better but we don’t do better? Is it possible that we know about God but we don’t know God as people who love our neighbors?

Is it possible, I wonder, whether we know the commandments but we are so emeshed in the structures of oppression and injustice (much like the scribes in the temple; like those living under Jim Crow or in southern slave states) that we don’t even recognize that we fail to love our neighbors even as we insist that we do?

May God have mercy on us all.

In 1866 Lipscomb called for a representative meeting of Baptists and Disciples–whom he characterized as “brethren”–to seek a way to foster unity between the two groups. He identified their common theology (including a common baptism), but also stressed their common heritage which, he claimed, stretched back through “eighteen centuries of persecution and martyrdom.”

For Lipscomb, Baptists and Disciples have:

• common baptism
• common rule of faith
• common discipline
• common Lord
• common Heaven
• common ancestry

David Lipscomb, “To Baptists and Disciples in Tennessee,” Gospel Advocate 8 (10 April 1866), 236-37.

Brethern:–The Savior of the world prayed that his people and his followers might be one–that the world might believe that the Father had sent him. The oneness of the people of God, the unity of the followers of the Lord in one body, is made a condition of the world’s believing in the Son of God, that that world might be saved from the woe of hell. Division and strife to-day separate the professed followers of the Savior, and the world in infidelity and sin is going down to the dark abodes of eternal death. In the face of this lawful consequence of division among the people of God, what are doing to bring about union and peace? Are we making the efforts and the sacrifices to avoid division and bring about union that the importance of the subject demands? We divide and separate, and in careless indifference perpetuate that division in despite of the prayer of Jesus, and as a consequence our fellowmen, our neighbors, friends, brethren, husbands, wives and children go down to death, how can we be held guiltless in the sight of God? The union of Christians in one body, in one faith, in one walk, directed by the same rule, is the demand of God and the crying want of the world. Shall Christians make no effort to comply with the demand of God, and supply this want of the world? We appeal to Baptist and Disciples as having many points of agreement to make a move in this direction. They teach a common rule of admission into the Kingdom of Jesus Christ, to-wit: A penitent believer’s burial in Baptism, in order to a resurrection to a new and holy walk with God, they have a common rule of faith and practice for individual Christians, and book of discipline for the Church of God, the simple, pure, unadulterated word of God. They have one common Lord and Master, one common Heaven of rest and happiness after life’s trials and sorrows are over. They have, too, one common ancestry, one common history for eighteen centuries of persecution and martyrdom. Can they not live and labor together in love and harmony as children of a common Father? Our brethren, too, in Virginia, have set us the example of trying to effect a union. Shall we not follow their good example? Shall we not have a meeting either of men chosen from our respective bodies at large, or commend to the churches to meet together, with fasting and prayer to God, and seek to unite as one people. How greatly would our capacity for good be increased? What joy to the good of earth and the angels of Heaven, would such an effort cause?

Will our brethren, Baptists and Disciples, at once speak out and say whether we shall make the effort, and if so, how, and how soon.