Grace, Grace To It

I love mountains. My parents started taking me hiking when I was three. I cannot imagine a summer without summits. This year so far, I’ve hiked ten. The popular saying, “the journey is more important than the destination” does not ring true for me in this area; rather, the journey is just as important as the destination when it comes to my hiking mentality. You see, I am addicted to aerial views. Maybe my terminology is too intense, but an unparalleled feeling wells within me when I reach the top of a jagged heap of earth, whether it’s snow-capped or sun-scorched. Each time I summit, a fresh feeling of adventure comes, hitting me with a re-realization of the rawness of nature and the knowledge that I just scaled the earth that rose to meet me. I love mountains.

But sometimes I hate mountains.

Sometimes I hate them when they’re unforgivingly steep. Or when I didn’t sleep enough before setting out. Or when the trail is longer than I expected. Or when there is no trail.

And I especially hate them when they’re not literal.

Instead of earth and rock, it’s a mental block. Instead of a towering peak above me, it’s doubt casting a shadow over my outlook when I face things too big, too hard, or, quite literally, impossible. Everyone knows the dread that settles in like a dense fog with these non-literal mountains. And when I begin to feel it, I’d rather go take a hike.

About 50,000 folks also felt this way in the 500s B.C.

When the exiled Jews were allowed to return to their homeland from Babylonian captivity, they began rebuilding the temple, the center of the monotheistic Jewish society. As time passed, opposition mounted from within and without. Neighboring peoples feared the potential political and religious strength that could arise with the rebuilding, so they began actively obstructing the work. And the people themselves, in addition to being battered by foreign nations, became occupied with building their own homes rather than God’s. In essence, the mountains of outside antagonism and inside apathy caused the rebuilding process to slow to a stop.

With waning initiative, the returned exiles needed a re-aligned perspective and renewed motivation. Enter prophets Haggai and Zechariah. God used them to exhort the people to return to their tasks with fresh vigor.

First, Haggai addressed the selfishness that was keeping the people of Judah from God’s mission for them: “Is it time for you yourselves to dwell in your paneled houses while this house lies desolate?...Consider your ways!” (Haggai 1:4-5). God declared to His people that nature was literally in a revolt against them at His command, yielding no rain and no crops because they were gratifying themselves in trying circumstances rather than looking to God. Upon hearing this, the people were convicted and obeyed the voice of the Lord to put His house first. At that point, we read the words that empowered the nation: “’I am with you,’ declares the Lord. So the Lord stirred up the spirit…of all the remnant of the people; and they came and worked on the house of the Lord of hosts, their God” (Haggai 1:13-14).

Mountain of self: conquered. By what means? The convicting Spirit of the Lord and the promise of His presence.

A year later, the people were continuing to work on the temple but still needed some encouragement. Okay, so the mountain of self wasn’t completely conquered. Perhaps the people summited it, came down, and went right back up again. After all, antagonistic neighbors were still in the business of inciting fear, and the people of Judah may not have minded having a little extra time to re-panel their own homes…

Just months after Haggai’s declaration of the promise of the presence of the Lord, the prophet Zechariah received eight visions which were given to remind the people of Judah that if they would return to God, God would return to them. If they gave themselves to His plans, He would animate their lives. And in the fifth of these visions, Zechariah carries a word from the Lord to Zerubbabel, the governor of Judah who led the Jews back from exile to begin working on the temple. Zerubbabel. For an icebreaker at parties, try getting people to say that name backwards. Or even forwards.

For many reasons, Zerubbabel was under a lot of pressure. I remember my missions professor once asking the class, “Do you know who the most nervous guy in the Bible was?” No one could answer. I was thinking Daniel in the lion’s den or Zacchaeus as he tried not to fall out of the sycamore tree: wrong. “Zerubbabel!” The foremost reason for pressure was that, as governor of Judah, it was largely his responsibility (a responsibility shared with the high priest, but still) to lead the people in the rebuilding process. Oh, and God also chose him to serve as a guarantee to God’s people that someday a Messiah would come. No big deal; he just served as a symbol of all the Jewish people ever hoped for. It could justly be said that Zerubbabel had the weight of the Jewish world on his shoulders.

The fifth vision of the Zechariah is the first vision to mention Zerubbabel. This vision served as direct encouragement for rebuilding the temple. In this vision, Zechariah sees two olive trees, and in between them, a gold lampstand with a bowl of oil on top of it surrounded by seven lamps with seven spouts which held the wicks of the oil lamps. Seven lamps x seven spouts = 49 flames. There was enough oil in the bowl to be of adequate supply for all the lamps. In the Bible, the number seven often symbolizes fullness or completeness. Although other parts of the vision can be broken down and explained further, the overarching theme is the completeness of God’s power through His Spirit. His Spirit is likened to the oil which provided nearly 50 flames. The abundance of oil kept the lamps lighted. And the Spirit of God could keep the people rebuilding the temple until its completion.

After seeing these things, Zechariah was given words for Zerubbabel to explain the vision. “This is the word of the Lord to Zerubbabel, saying, ‘Not by might, nor by power, but by My Spirit,’ says the Lord of hosts” (Zechariah 4:6).

At this point in the Jews’ history, their realm severely lacked the might and prestige it had under the reigns of kings like David and Solomon. Zerubbabel was just the governor of a returned people, not the monarch of a world empire. He knew the people didn’t have much might. He knew they didn’t have much power. And maybe he felt that they needed these two attributes in increasing amounts to complete the rebuilding task. But God countered by saying that the deciding factor was His Spirit, not the people’s capabilities.

What a relief. Because if it were the other way around, the Jews might as well have started re-packing for Babylon.

In the next verse, Zechariah is given more words from the Lord: “What are you, O great mountain? Before Zerubbabel you will become a plain; and he will bring forth the top stone with shouts of ‘Grace, grace to it!’” (Zechariah 4:7). Not only was God saying that only His Spirit has the potential to accomplish this task; God was saying that His Spirit would accomplish it! God doesn’t tell us of His attributes and divine capabilities so that we can marvel and move on; He speaks such truths in order that we may take heart and operate in His authority. In effect, God said to Zerubbabel, You can’t do this on your own. But I can. And I’ll enable you to do it through Me.

What better message is there?

What was Zerubbabel’s great mountain? It was the great mountain of opposition to the temple-rebuilding process. It was the fact that if neighboring nations had a worst nightmare, it was that of the temple’s completion.  It was the fact that the people’s weariness, coupled with their lack of perseverance, robbed them of might and power.

And God said that mountain would become a plain. Leveled. His Spirit wasn’t just going to whack the top off it and call it good, making it a nice hill. The literal meanings of the Hebrew word for plain are “level place (or country)” and “plateau.” God was speaking in concrete terms. The situation was going to go from one extreme to the other.

“He will bring for the top stone”—the final stone of the temple, signaling its completion. Not “if he ends up finishing the work,” but when. He will bring forth the top stone, and at that time he will shout, “Grace, grace to it!” Grace. Favor with God. Undeserved favor with God. Undeserved but lavishly extended.

I admit that when I began a close-reading of the book of Zechariah this summer, I was having a struggle wrapping my mind around through the visions of colored horses, myrtle trees, and the man with the measuring line. What was God saying to His people back then? And what is He saying to me now? But when I came to chapter four, things started growing clearer. I began to identify with the people of God just a little bit more when their mountain started coming into view because I, too, have a mountain.

And mine, like theirs, isn’t made of earth and rock. It’s made of time and money. Or rather, the lack thereof.

God called the Jews to build Him a dwelling place; He called me to go to Moldova. Vastly different callings, no doubt, but both given by the same God. The Jews didn’t have the might and power to accomplish their God-given vision; neither do I. But we have the same God.

And in reading Zechariah’s words, I am reminded of an important truth: it’s not about our own abilities. It’s about His. We can’t do it, and He knows it. When opposition comes and our confidence deflates, do we believe that the God who called us knew that this time was coming? Do we believe that He sees not only the end from the beginning but all the days in between?

What do we believe about God?

Do we believe that He can do all He says He can do? Maybe we don’t struggle with that one too much. But do we believe that He will do all He says He can?

The year before the message in Zechariah 4:6-7, Zerubbabel received this word from the Lord spoken through the prophet Haggai: “’But now take courage, Zerubbabel,’ declares the Lord, ‘take courage…and work; for I am with you,’ declares the Lord of hosts” (Haggai 2:4).     

God was coming through for Zerubbabel as Zerubbabel continued stepping out in faith. It is good for us to remember what else God says about His activity in our lives: God will not share His glory with another (Isaiah 48:11). God rescues us to make His mighty power known (Psalm 106:8). He will not reject His people for the sake of His great name (1 Samuel 12:22).

The name Zechariah means “Yahweh remembers.” God never forgets. He is timeless. His words are not old to Him; they are as fresh as when He first uttered them. Why do we have a tendency to think that opposition or delay means that God has forgotten? God says of Himself in Isaiah 46:10, “My purpose will stand, and I will do all that I please.”

Of course, this doesn’t leave us off the hook. God gave Zechariah these visions in order to encourage the people to get to work. This isn’t a stand-by-and-do-nothing sort of faith; this is an active one. But may we remember in our activity that it is the Spirit of God animating what we do which brings success, not our own spirits.

In fact, the main theme of the book of Zechariah is encouragement. God is encouraging His people to finish the work they started, the work He put in their hearts to accomplish.

Be encouraged. You’re gonna finish this work, and you’re gonna shout about it. And all—all—is done by His Spirit.

You may be relieved to know that four years after Haggai’s and Zechariah’s messages started, the temple was finished and dedicated.

At this moment, I feel like Zerubbabel when he was still in the process of temple rebuilding. I need a few thousand dollars before I am supposed to leave America six days from now. Like Zerubbabel, I am being pummeled with encouragement from on high in the face of my obvious lack of might and power. Do I believe God is who He says He is? Yes. Do I believe He can finish what He started? Yes. The encouragement is taking effect. And I am excited. What are you, O great mountain? You’re everything less than all God is.

So the day that the rest of this money comes in, I’m shouting, “Grace, grace to it!” This day is coming, and this day is coming soon. And this day is coming as a result of nothing less than the grace of God.

“O LORD, You are my God; I will exalt You, I will give thanks to Your name; For You have worked wonders, plans formed long ago, with perfect faithfulness” (Isaiah 25:1).

It’s mountain-leveling time. Watch out.