The wolf shall dwell with the lamb,

                        and the leopard shall lie down with the young goat,

        and the calf and the lion and the fattened calf together;

                        and a little child shall lead them.

The cow and the bear shall graze;

                        their young shall lie down together;

                        and the lion shall eat straw like the ox.

The nursing child shall play over the hole of the cobra,

                        and the weaned child shall put his hand on the adder's den.

They shall not hurt or destroy

                        in all my holy mountain;

        for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord

                        as the waters cover the sea. (Isaiah 11.6-9)

As with so much in the book of Isaiah, while this prophecy has some minor relation to the coming judgement from God on the enemies of his people such as Babylon, it has a lot more to do with the coming—700 years later—of the Messiah.  Earlier in the chapter, God predicted a descendant from the then-failing line of David, who would reign on his ancestor’s throne with God’s approval and help.  This Branch of David would rule over a kingdom centered, as we saw in verse 9, on God’s “holy mountain”—Zion, on which the city of Jerusalem was built.  But it wouldn’t be limited to that city, or even to the region of Judea.  The whole earth would “be full of the knowledge of the Lord,” and the rest of the chapter lists Gentile nations round about, from which God says he will “recover the remnant that remains of his people” (v11).

The Jews who first heard and read these words would have generally assumed that “his people” referred exclusively to their ethnic group—the descendants of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.  But in the very same passage, God made it clear the Branch would offer hope to others outside that family tree:

In that day the root of Jesse, who shall stand as a signal for the peoples—of him shall the nations inquire, and his resting place shall be glorious. (Isaiah 11.10)

This was always planned as a worldwide kingdom, ruled from David’s throne by the Chosen one of God.

And what kind of rule would it be?  This audience was used to regime changes—they’d seen both their brothers to the north and several other nearby nations conquered by the Assyrians, and finally the Assyrians themselves waning in power.  Most of these rulers treated each conquered populace brutally, establishing dominance through the exercise of power and punishment.  They executed enemies simply as examples to scare the rest; they took captives and made them march hundreds of miles “naked and barefoot” (Is 20.4) to serve masters far from their homes.  A rising nation was a great threat to every other nation around it, and it went without saying that violence would decide the course of each person’s life.

What would the Messiah bring?  “The wolf shall dwell with the lamb” (Is 11.6).  Each of the details shared in the verses that followed is another demonstration that in the Kingdom of Heaven, there is no cause for fear.  God didn’t say wolves, leopards, lions, bears, cobras, and adders would be exterminated; nor did he say that there would be no more weakness or vulnerability—the lamb, kid, calf, cow, ox, and children of all ages remain, too.  But they’re no longer threatened by violence from the strong.  They get along, and the strong allow themselves to be led by a child—who couldn’t have forced his will on any of them.

Jesus had much to say about this topic as well.  As he went around Galilee and Judea preaching, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand” (Mt 4.17), he also told his disciples, “If anyone would be first, he must be last of all and servant of all” (Mk 9.35).  He told them, “let the greatest among you become as the youngest, and the leader as one who serves” (Lk 22.26), and followed that up by using himself, the king, as an example: “I am among you as the one who serves” (v27). 

But as we saw in Isaiah 11, his purpose is not simply to declaw everyone and establish a society of frail weaklings.  He expects his followers to be strong, and to put up with adversity.  “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I have not come to bring peace, but a sword” (Mt 10.34).  In fact, he instructed them, “let the one who has no sword sell his cloak and buy one” (Lk 22.36), and permitted Simon and another unnamed disciple to carry their swords with them to the Mount of Olives on the night he was betrayed and arrested by armed men.  His predecessor, also heralding the ever-nearing Kingdom of Heaven, didn’t tell soldiers to get out of that line of work, but to refrain from using force to secure unjust gain and be satisfied with their pay (Lk 3.14).

But the kingdom of heaven isn’t to be a violent affair, either.  Jesus tells his followers to be strong, but also to serve the weak.  He tells them to behave peaceably, even among those who are hostile.  “Beware of men,” he says (Mt 10.17), but “have no fear of them” (v26).  We could sum all of this up in one instruction: “be wise as serpents and innocent as doves” (v16).  The world contains many powerful people.  By and large, they use their power for their own ends, which are usually aimed at collecting more power.  How should the Christian behave?  Shun all power and become passive and docile?  No, far from it!  But use your strength to serve those in the kingdom who are weak in comparison.  That’s what Jesus—the most powerful man ever to live—did for us.  “For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly” (Ro 5.6).

Daniel Latini

And the crowds that went before him and that followed him were shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!” And when he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was stirred up, saying, “Who is this?” And the crowds said, “This is the prophet Jesus, from Nazareth of Galilee.” (Matthew 21.9-11)

One of the themes of Matthew’s Gospel is that Jesus is the heir to David’s throne.  Today we take this point for granted, but the reason for this, in large part, is Matthew’s focus on this very topic in his Gospel.  He’s not just trying to prove that the expected Messiah was to be from David’s line or was to reign on David’s throne; after all, the religious scholars of the day already knew that.  When Jesus asked them, “‘What do you think about the Christ? Whose son is he?’ They said to him, ‘The son of David’” (Mt 22.42).  They had figured this out from several Old Testament prophecies.

When your days are fulfilled and you lie down with your fathers, I will raise up your offspring after you, who shall come from your body, and I will establish his kingdom. He shall build a house for my name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever. (2 Samuel 7.12-13)

God gave this promise to David in response to David’s intention to build a glorious temple for God in Jerusalem.  Most immediately it applied to his son, Solomon, who did exactly as God had predicted.  For centuries this was seen as a prophecy long since fulfilled.  There had been an unbroken line of descent beginning with David himself, stretching back to the 11^th century BC, of those who reigned in Judah.  The temple on Mount Zion was so grand that no one could have seen it and gone away disappointed.  By the late 7^th century BC, the promise that David’s throne had been established “forever” could reasonably be considered fulfilled.

However, when Judah fell to the Babylonians in the 6^th century, it became difficult to maintain this interpretation.  David’s throne was no more.  Zerubbabel, the grandson of one of Judah’s final kings, was made governor of Judea when the Persians finally allowed them to return home, but it just wasn’t the same.  What happened?  Had God failed to keep his promise?  No!  In fact, God had begun preparing them for this turn of events since long before they fell to Babylon, hinting that the best for Israel lay in store.

There shall come forth a shoot from the stump of Jesse,

     and a branch from his roots shall bear fruit.

And the Spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him,

     the Spirit of wisdom and understanding,

     the Spirit of counsel and might,

     the Spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord. (Isaiah 11.1-2)

Even while acknowledging his people’s intense struggles with Gentile invaders—including the ongoing fall of the northern kingdom of Assyria—God promised that David’s line, though it would appear cut off, was not finished.  The stump would produce a shoot who would have God’s favor in every way.  Even as things got worse for Judah, and the Babylonians took over and began deporting the aristocrats, God gave another promise:

“Behold, the days are coming, declares the Lord, when I will raise up for David a righteous Branch, and he shall reign as king and deal wisely, and shall execute justice and righteousness in the land. In his days Judah will be saved, and Israel will dwell securely. And this is the name by which he will be called: ‘The Lord is our righteousness.’” (Jeremiah 23.5-6)

This certainly inspired hope in the poor people of Judah as they watched their nation decline under progressively worse kings, and ever-stronger enemies.  Justice is coming!  A king like David will rise!  We will be secure!  And yet, rather than reversing course and beating back the Babylonian hordes, the remainder of the Jews crumbled and submitted entirely to the heathens who burned the temple of the Lord to the ground. 

Had God failed this time?  No!  He repeated the promise again, even while the Jews were in exile:

“My servant David shall be king over them, and they shall all have one shepherd. They shall walk in my rules and be careful to obey my statutes. They shall dwell in the land that I gave to my servant Jacob, where your fathers lived. They and their children and their children's children shall dwell there forever, and David my servant shall be their prince forever.” (Ezekiel 37.24-25)

When Christ came to live as a man on earth, the Israelites were still waiting for the Son of David to restore the kingdom’s former glory.  Matthew worked hard to make it clear that Jesus was the fulfillment of God’s promise.  He first established that Jesus was a direct descendant of David, then recounted the wise men’s conclusion that a new “king of the Jews” had been born.  Afterward, he pointed to everyone from country bumpkins (12.23), to blind men (20.30), to Gentiles (15.22), to little children (21.15) recognizing Jesus as the Son of David, so long awaited.

He didn’t look like the earthly king they expected.  It wasn’t about putting Israel at the top of the food chain again.  It wasn’t about forcibly compelling the powerful to be nice to the powerless.  But the truth was in the promises all along: he came to build a house for God on earth, to share wisdom and counsel, to grant eternal security in a blessed home, and to be our righteousness.  Hosanna to the Son of David!

Jeremy Nettles

When the Lord saw that Leah was hated, he opened her womb, but Rachel was barren. And Leah conceived and bore a son, and she called his name Reuben, for she said, “Because the Lord has looked upon my affliction; for now my husband will love me.” She conceived again and bore a son, and said, “Because the Lord has heard that I am hated, he has given me this son also.” And she called his name Simeon. Again she conceived and bore a son, and said, “Now this time my husband will be attached to me, because I have borne him three sons.” Therefore his name was called Levi. And she conceived again and bore a son, and said, “This time I will praise the Lord.” Therefore she called his name Judah. (Genesis 29.31-35)

Leah, through no fault of her own that we can discern, found herself in in a disagreeable position—her father pushed her into a marriage with a man who wasn’t at all interested in her; then her new husband and her father agreed to add her younger sister Rachel to the mix—the bride Jacob had really sought in the first place.  The result was a twisted mess, a corruption of what God designed marriage to be.  Who could blame Leah for feeling inadequate and rejected?  God saw her affliction, and blessed her with a healthy child to raise and love.  What did Leah see, though?  She perceives the situation in terms of her relationship with Jacob, saying, “now my husband will love me.”

Yet it is clear from the story’s progression that little Reuben didn’t bring about her desired effect.  Leah was still dissatisfied, even though Rachel remained unable to conceive.  It’s apparent that Jacob continued to obviously favor his second wife over Leah, because when God blessed her with a second healthy son, her response was again to focus on the shortfall in her relationship with her husband.  She said that God had “heard” of her plight, and given Simeon, whose name is tied to the Hebrew word for heard, to improve her lot.  Once again, God gave her a blessing of tremendous value, one that should have brought her immeasurable joy—and all she could think about was how another person in her life didn’t live up to her expectations or treat her well.  She had a steadfast rock for a foundation—a Lord who clearly loved her and watched over her.  But while she appreciated his blessings, she viewed them primarily as tools for improving her standing before her husband, who constantly disappointed her.

It happened again: God provided a third son, whom she named Levi (“attached”) in the hope—by now obviously deluded—that this one would produce a different result and bring Jacob to value Leah more highly.  She’s looking the gift horse in the mouth, to use a modern proverb.  Her frustration with another person’s ill treatment of her has kept her from simply appreciating the incredible blessings God kept showering upon her, conspicuously singling her out above her sister.

But God doesn’t give up.  He gives Leah one more son, and this time, she has learned the lesson.  She doesn’t expect her husband to love her, to treat her with greater kindness or dignity, or to feel more closely attached to her.  She has come to accept that Jacob will persist in favoring his second wife over his first.  How does she respond?  She names this boy Judah—“praise”—saying, “This time I will praise the Lord.”  Instead of looking around her on earth for the meaningful relationship she desires, she has finally learned to look upward, to God.

The story isn’t over—Rachel ups the ante some time later and pulls the same foolish trick Abraham and Sarah tried when they brought in Hagar to bear children by proxy.  When Rachel’s servant Bilhah has borne two sons to Jacob, Leah is drawn back into the competition, and gives her servant Zilpah to Jacob in order to do the same thing.  Eventually, after many years of this struggle and conflict, God blesses Leah with three more kids, before finally allowing Rachel have two—although she died in the process of birthing her second son, Benjamin.

It’s not as if the birth of Judah ushered in a new age of joy and bliss for Leah, but at least for a little while, she’d learned to just be grateful and give glory to God, rather than diminishing the value of his blessings over the failures and offenses from other people.

This is a lesson each of us ought to learn.  No matter our expectations of other people; no matter how hard we strive; no matter how carefully we scheme, God’s plans are the ones that really matter, as Solomon reminds us: “Many are the plans in the mind of a man, but it is the purpose of the Lord that will stand” (Pr 19.21).  If you live by fleshly desires and plans, how will it work out for you?  It’s nearly guaranteed you’ll be disappointed far more often than not in this life, and absolutely certain you’ll face nothing but disappointment in death and beyond.  Your friends and family will disappoint you.  You’ll disappoint yourself.  The world will disappoint you—but God will not.  He gave his Son not only to redeem and restore you, but as a pledge that “He will not leave you or forsake you” (De 31.6).

Whether you’re just at the beginning of your walk with God through this life, or struggling and stumbling along the way, learn to be content; to trust him; to appreciate his blessings; to take human failure in stride.  Learn to be confident that

for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. (Romans 8.28)

Jeremy Nettles

We don’t pay enough attention to the book of Jonah.  For one thing, it’s in the middle of the misleadingly labeled “minor prophets,” which are some of the least studied books of the Bible.  These are usually studied in a setting that attempts to cram an entire book into about 40 minutes of class time, only to move on the next week and do the same thing again with another.  There are 66 books in the Bible, and while they’re all very important, there’s no denying that some of them—like the gospels and Acts—are more important than others—like Song of Solomon and 3 John.  But the trouble with Jonah doesn’t end there—it actually stands in a somewhat privileged position in comparison to the other minor prophets.  This is the only one that is commonly taught to kids.  The reason for that is somewhat obvious given the simple structure and length of the story; and it’s great that the children learn it.  But this has an unfortunate side effect: adults tend to think of it as a “kids’ story.”  It’s not.

To begin with, while it’s easy to focus on the thread introduced in the first three verses—Jonah’s foolish attempt to run from God—there’s a lot more to this story, particularly when it comes to Jonah’s motivation for fleeing.  We’ll skip ahead to the point here: the book of Jonah is supposed to teach Israel about racial bigotry, and to highlight their own failures to live up to the standards by which they happily judged the Gentiles.  The details here are a topic for another time, but if you’ve read the book, it should be easy to see those themes.  That’s some pretty heavy material for a cute kids’ story!

However, while there is plenty to learn from Jonah about God’s broad, unchanging moral expectations and his abundance of grace, mercy, and steadfast love (Jo 4.2), this book also looks forward keenly at the New Testament.  Chapter 2 records the prayer Jonah spoke “from the belly of the fish” (2.1):

“I called out to the Lord, out of my 

               distress,

        and he answered me;

out of the belly of Sheol I cried,

        and you heard my voice.

For you cast me into the deep,

        into the heart of the seas,

        and the flood surrounded me;

all your waves and your billows

        passed over me.

Then I said, ‘I am driven away

        from your sight;

yet I shall again look

        upon your holy temple.’

The waters closed in over me to take my

               life;

        the deep surrounded me;

weeds were wrapped about my head

        at the roots of the mountains.

I went down to the land

        whose bars closed upon me forever;

yet you brought up my life from the pit,

        O Lord my God.

When my life was fainting away,

        I remembered the Lord,

and my prayer came to you,

        into your holy temple.

Those who pay regard to vain idols

        forsake their hope of steadfast love.

But I with the voice of thanksgiving

        will sacrifice to you;

what I have vowed I will pay.

        Salvation belongs to the Lord!” (Jonah 2.2-9)

The first thing to note here is that Jonah is describing salvation in progress—not in the future, although he’s still in the belly of the monster when he prays these words.  It’s also not fully accomplished, yet.  He says that God “brought up [his] life from the pit,” but he also voices faith that he “shall again look upon [God’s] holy temple,” an event as yet unrealized, as is the case with the vows he promises he will keep.  In fact, this recorded prayer tells of an earlier, unrecorded and already answered prayer: “I called out to the Lord…and he answered me.”

The surprising conclusion is that Jonah does not view being swallowed by a giant sea creature as a punishment for his disobedience.  On the contrary, he sees this as an instrument of God’s salvation!  From what?  From death by drowning.  The dangers he lists in this prayer are all about the sea—“the flood surrounded me” (v3), “The waters closed in over me” (v5), “weeds were wrapped about my head at the roots of the mountains” (vv5-6).  We could list more of these, but would quickly run out of space.  He was drowning in the sea, and as he recognized he was dying, as his “life was fainting away” (v7), he “called out to the Lord” from “the belly of Sheol”—from the grave (v2).  Yet even in that state, he trusted that God would bring him back up from the grave.

“An evil and adulterous generation seeks for a sign, but no sign will be given to it except the sign of the prophet Jonah. For just as Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of the great fish, so will the Son of Man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth.” (Matthew 12.39-40)

Jesus’ death, burial, and resurrection follow the same pattern as Jonah’s—both were willingly sent to their deaths by Gentiles, remained three days in “the grave,” and then arose, transformed, through the power of God.  The reasons were different, and parts of these two experiences are connected only symbolically, but that’s the “sign of Jonah” Jesus predicted.

Today, he expects his followers to imitate that same sign, and undergo a death, burial and resurrection that’s connected to Jesus’, but looks a lot like Jonah’s, too!  As Jonah appealed to God for salvation from his watery grave, and at the same time vowed obedience to God, so today baptism is “an appeal to God for a good conscience” (1Pe 3.21), a transforming encounter with death.  Learn from Jonah.  Leave the old rebel in his watery grave, and pay your vows to the Lord.

Jeremy Nettles

…if anyone who hears the sound of the trumpet does not take warning, and the sword comes and takes him away, his blood shall be upon his own head. He heard the sound of the trumpet and did not take warning; his blood shall be upon himself. But if he had taken warning, he would have saved his life. (Ezekiel 33.4-5)

In this passage, God explains the prophet’s responsibility by comparing his role to that of a watchman for a city.  This man is selected to bear the burden of keeping the whole populace informed of an invading army’s appearance on the horizon.  In our safe and cushy society we struggle to comprehend this, but in reality there is always the danger of invasion by a hostile force bent on taking our property and killing or enslaving us.  None of those outcomes is acceptable, so we ought to be on guard; yet if all we ever did was to patrol our borders, we wouldn’t get anything else done.  We might say it’s a sacrifice worth making for security, but then we’d eventually realize that we need things like food and shelter, and here we’ve ignored those inevitable necessities in order to focus on a definite maybe.  What’s the solution?  Select a trustworthy person whose job it will be to constantly watch for that invading army.  Now we can all focus on doing our jobs in relative safety, knowing that the trumpet will sound if danger appears.  That’s the prophet’s job, and it’s a huge responsibility.  If he falls asleep on duty, or just doesn’t bother to watch and warn, the people of the city will be caught completely unaware and unable to effectively fight off the danger.

However—and this is just as much a part of God’s point in telling Ezekiel all of this—even if the watchman does his job, that’s no guarantee the populace will heed the warning.  In the text quoted above, God makes it clear to Ezekiel that he’s not liable for the people’s response, only for carrying out his own duty.  When he blows the trumpet, he has fulfilled his obligation, and now the responsibility to act upon that signal rests with the people who hear it.

This is a principle found in the New Testament, as well.  Wrapping up a parable about servants left to tend the manor while their master is away, Jesus said:

“And that servant who knew his master's will but did not get ready or act according to his will, will receive a severe beating. But the one who did not know, and did what deserved a beating, will receive a light beating.” (Luke 12.47-48a)

It’s not that ignorance excuses bad behavior (although it may lead to some degree of mercy).  Rather, the point is that some people unequivocally know the master’s expectations and yet reject them, and those people will be shown no mercy.  He follows up the parable with a broad moral:

“Everyone to whom much was given, of him much will be required, and from him to whom they entrusted much, they will demand the more.” (Luke 12.48b)

Nehemiah provides an excellent example for us to follow.

…Now it happened in the month of Chislev, in the twentieth year, as I was in Susa the citadel, that Hanani, one of my brothers, came with certain men from Judah. And I asked them concerning the Jews who escaped, who had survived the exile, and concerning Jerusalem. And they said to me, “The remnant there in the province who had survived the exile is in great trouble and shame. The wall of Jerusalem is broken down, and its gates are destroyed by fire.” (Nehemiah 1.1-3)

Has the situation at Jerusalem really changed lately?  It’s not as if the walls and gate were just recently destroyed—that happened when Nebuchadnezzar took the city, all the way back in the year 586 BC.  It was now the year 445 BC.  The exiles who’d returned at the decree of Cyrus apparently at least had aspirations to rebuild the walls, but had met resistance and made little or no progress.  This problem was not new.  But this is the first Nehemiah is hearing of it.  How does he respond?  “As soon as I heard these words I sat down and wept and mourned for days, and I continued fasting and praying” (Ne 1.4).  After some time to reflect, he takes his opportunity when he comes before the king to request of him, “send me to Judah, to the city of my fathers' graves, that I may rebuild it” (Ne 2.5).  The king agrees, and Nehemiah’s life changes drastically from that day onward.  He travels back and forth, acts as a governor, a militia leader, a spiritual leader, and a construction foreman, for a period of at least twelve years.  He wasn’t born into this authority; he wasn’t elected; he wasn’t really even appointed by an official.  He made the plan, he approached the king with it and got his stamp of approval, and then showed up at Jerusalem and started telling people what they ought to do.  God granted him great success in all that he undertook.

The time is past when we didn’t know what God expected of us.  God took that into account, calling them “the times of ignorance” (Ac 17.30).  But now, the trumpet has been sounding for 2,000 years.  Almost everyone has heard it, and is responsible for heeding the warning.  Those who have already responded to the trumpet have a further responsibility—to continue the fight against Satan and his minions, and to repeat the trumpet’s warning for those few who haven’t yet heard.  Now, God

commands all people everywhere to repent, because he has fixed a day on which he will judge the world in righteousness by a man whom he has appointed; and of this he has given assurance to all by raising him from the dead. (Acts 17.30b-31)

Jeremy Nettles