Haggai

            Unlike the other prophets whom we’ve studied so far, Haggai is speaking to a people who have already been destroyed.  He is talking to the exiles of the destroyed Judah who have been in Babylon.  Now, under Cyrus’ edict (after Persia conquered the Babylonians), the remaining Israelites have been allowed to return to Jerusalem.  Haggai is therefore giving instructions for a new Jerusalem, and he is encouraging the rebuilding of the temple, the rebuilding of the tradition, the rebuilding of the Israelite commitment to their faith as they return home.  This is a very different message from what we’ve heard from the other prophets.  And the response of Zerubbabel, the high priest, is to lead the people to do exactly what Haggai says God has commanded.  They do set to work on building the temple.  And Haggai announces that as a result, God will grant peace, God will be with them, God is pleased.  The book of Haggai approaches the conclusion with this phrase, “From this day on I will bless you.”

            So, unlike the other prophets, and perhaps especially Amos who we heard from last week, the book of Haggai is hopeful, it is living in the resurrection of Israel, it is the promise of new life that comes after death.  Since we are in the season of lent, walking towards the cross, this resurrection and focus on the resurrection may seem to be premature.  But I think that, first of all, going through those times of hardship, those times of death, we can be boosted and supported by knowing that even out of death resurrection comes.  And secondly, I am aware that even in our most difficult times there are small moments, at least, of new life, or hope, of good things.  Those understandings, and that promise of new life, that hope, that belief, allows us to carry through, to make it through, to push forward even through the darkest times. 

            You all know the story of Pandora’s box (or jar, is, I understand, a more accurate translation).  The idea behind this Greek myth is that Pandora accidentally let loose on the human race all the evils of our world except one – that one being despair.  In another version, she let out (and away) from humanity all the good things in the world except for Hope.  In another version, everything in the box was evil except the very last “spirit” to slip from the box, and that spirit was hope….Whichever version you know of the story, the message is the same: with all the evils that are in the world, the one thing that humanity could not tolerate, could not live with: the one thing that would make life unbearable is despair, or lack of hope.  When people do hit that place of ultimate despair, that is when they give up, and we know the results of that…suicides, murders, harm to other people.  All of it ends the same: death. 

But the message of the gospel is a message of hope.  The scriptures do talk about endings, they do talk about sorrows, they do talk about walking through fire, as the Israelites did when they were sent into exile, as Jesus did when he was sent to the cross.  But the scriptures don’t leave us there.  There is always something beyond death, beyond the dark night, beyond the fiery trials and tribulations.  And that is the Good News of our faith.  On the other side of any loss, of any death, of any pain, God promises resurrection.  Haggai is the voice for that resurrection that is offered even in the Old Testament.

            I want to share with you a story written by Arnold Lobel in his book Grasshopper on the Road.  The story in entitled “A New House.”

The Road went up a steep hill.  Grasshopper climbed to the top.  He found a large apple lying on the ground.  “I will have my lunch,” said Grasshopper.  He ate a big bite of the apple.  “Look what you did!” said a worm, who lived in the apple.  “You have made a hole in my roof!  It is not polite to eat a person’s house,” said the worm. 

“I am sorry,” said Grasshopper.  Just then the apple began to roll down the road on the other side of the hill.

“Stop me!  Catch me!” cried the worm.  The apple was rolling faster and faster.  “Help, my head is bumping on the walls!  My dishes are falling off the shelf!” cried the worm.  Grasshopper ran after the apple.  “Everything is a mess in here!” cried the worm.  “My bathtub is in the living room.  My bed is in the kitchen!”

Grasshopper kept running down the hill.  But he could not catch the apple.  “I am getting dizzy,” cried the worm.  “My floor is on the ceiling!  My attic is in the cellar!”The apple rolled and rolled.  It rolled all the way down to the bottom of the hill.  The apple hit a tree.  It smashed into a hundred pieces. 

“Too bad, worm,” said Grasshopper.  “Your house is gone.”

The worm climbed up the side of the tree.  “Oh, never mind,” said the worm.  “It was old, and it had a big bite in it anyway.  This is a fine time for me to find a new house.” Grasshopper looked up into the tree.  He saw that it was filled with apples.  Grasshopper smiled, and he went on down the road.

The worm in this story was upset.  The worm experienced great loss – of everything that he owned.  But the worm also had the vision to see possibilities beyond his losses; to look forward, to go into new life, to experience resurrection.

Does that mean that we can avoid the pain and the grief?  No, we can’t.  We have to feel those things too.  But it does mean that we can avoid deep despair.  And I think that is the deepest gift, the deepest promise of our faith. 

As I wrote this sermon, I found myself reflecting on the hardest times in my own life.  I know that each of us has gone through difficult, painful, deeply disturbing times.  I have no doubt that for you, as there was for me, there were moments when the questions loomed large, “will we make it through this?”  “HOW will we make it through this?”  “Will we be okay on the other end of this?”  “What will that other side look like?”  For myself, the other side of those times did not look the way I had hoped or expected.  Nothing stayed the same, and nothing returned to what it was.

No, instead things are better than they were before.  I mean this genuinely.  I am happy here at this church, I am happy here in CA again with the sun and the land and the mountain, I am happy with David, I am happy with my family.  More than this, I walked through the fires of our life and came out with two very different and very real understandings than before I went through.  The first, I came through knowing my own strength, a strength based in large part on my faith.  God walked in a tangible way alongside our family through the toughest times.  I go forward trusting God’s presence to a much deeper level than ever before.  And secondly, I understand much more fully that “this too shall pass.”  Nothing lasts.  Nothing stays the same.  Everything changes. And that means that whatever is good in your life should be appreciated and celebrated now because it will not stay the same.  And whatever is bad in your life will not be a burden forever because it, too, will not stay the same.  These are deep gifts of learning: that everything changes, and that with god on our side there is hope, and there is faith that we will make it through whatever life hands us. 

A quote that has been helpful to me over the years, written by Paramahansa Yogandanda is, “Do not take life’s experiences too seriously.  Above all, do not let them hurt you for in reality they are nothing but dream experiences.  If circumstances are bad and you have to bear them, do not make them a part of yourself.  Play your part in life but never forget that it is only a role.”  I play my part, but I never forget that my deeper identity is as a child of God.  Your identity is as a child of God.  That is what is real.  That is what is ultimately important. 

I found as I wrote this that this poem came to mind:

I asked God for strength that I might achieve.
I was made weak that I might learn humbly to obey.
I asked for health that I might do greater things.
I was given infirmity that I might do better things.
I asked for riches that I might be happy.
I was given poverty that I might be wise.
I asked for power that I might have the praise of men.
I was given weakness that I might feel the need of God.
I asked for all things that I might enjoy life.
I was given life that I might enjoy all things.
I got nothing that I asked for, but everything I hoped for.
Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered.
I am, among all men, most richly blessed.

– Prayer by an unknown confederate soldier

            There is another message in Haggai, though.  In the book of Haggai we are told that resurrection does not look like just sitting around and taking life easy. Resurrection is not a passive experience for us of sitting and waiting for God to act.  The Israelites were required to rebuild the temple – not an easy, simple, or small task to take on.  This was a primary message of Haggai: you must rebuild the temple: all of you must rebuild the temple together.  But the results of this, for the Israelites, for this people of God, were amazing.  First of all, when they had a hand in their own renewal, in their own resurrection, it became not only a source of pride, but they had a much deeper ownership in who they now were as a people.  Before the exile, the temple had really only been used by the elite.  It was a place built by, and for, the elite.  But it was only after the rebuilding of the temple that it became the center of life for the Israelites. That joint effort, that working together (not hired by the wealthy, not forced to build something for others, but choosing to be part of creating something for themselves) to rebuild this central building brought a deeper sense of faith, of commitment, of community to the people.  

Again, it came with a lot of work.  The message here is that for those who hope that new life, that resurrection, that “heaven”, that new beginnings of any kind are given to us on a silver platter, are a place where we are served and do not need to lift a hand on our own behalves but  can just nap and wait for the wonderful to come, the reality will be something far different.  The resurrection is a place where there will be good things, wonderful things: God’s presence, new life.  But those things also come with a much deeper gift: meaningful work and purpose.   

This week I read an article in the Washington Post about a school where the girls were being sexually harassed.  They tried to talk to the principal, who brought in only the “Leader” from the boys and told him to stop it.  But the girls knew this was not enough.  They fought for an education program at their school that would teach everyone more about how to be respectful of all people, no matter their age, gender, situation, race, or any other factor.  They changed the whole culture of the school by pushing this through.  And they came out with strength, with a sense of their own power and ability to change their world.  It not only improved things for them in the short run, it also empowered them and their fellow students as they were able to witness the power of their efforts change the world in which they lived.

Walking into new life will involve the work of all of us talking, sharing, healing, and growing together.  If we accept the invitation to follow God’s call to action, to working together, to building the new together: if we accept the invitations for meaning, to purpose, then, as Haggai tells us in his book, “From this day on, God will bless you”.  And that is very good news.  Amen.