Joy and Weeping in the Already and Not Yet

But many of the priests and Levites and heads of fathers’ houses, old men who had seen the first house, wept with a loud voice when they saw the foundation of this house being laid, though many shouted aloud for joy, 13 so that the people could not distinguish the sound of the joyful shout from the sound of the people’s weeping, for the people shouted with a great shout, and the sound was heard far away. Ezra 3:12-13

Ezra records the events of the rebuilding of the temple as if they were happening at breakneck speed. Indeed, compared to the languishing away of an entire generation of God's people over 70 years in captivity, the events that have occurred since Cyrus' wonderful edict should startle and amaze us. Some 43,000 Israelites have risen up, stirred up in fact by the Lord, to return to Jerusalem for the rebuilding of the Temple. We are not sure how long it has been since the waves of exiles began their return, but 3:1 tells us that when the seventh month came, Jeshua the priest, and Zerubbabel, one of the leaders of the Israelites, re-established covenant worship in Israel with the rebuilding of the altar, the offering of sacrifices, and the observance of the feast of booths.

In 3:8, Ezra tells us that in the second month of the second year of their return to Jerusalem, Jeshua and Zerubbabel re-establish the Levitical priesthood 'to supervise the work of the house of the Lord'. Once the foundation of the Temple is laid, all the people gathered for worship and praise.

Ezra now records a very interesting element of ‘this world’ worship. At the point of praise over the mighty acts of God, there is a loud weeping over the sins of the past, over the glory that was once upon these foundations in Solomon's Temple. We read that 'the people could not distinguish the sound of the joyful shout from the sound of the people's weeping'. Until we are with the Lord in the new heavens and the new earth, there is always the mixture of joy and weeping, happiness and sorrow, praise and lament in the worship of God's people.

We live in an age of vain sentimentality -- particularly in our evangelical Christian sub-culture. I have often poked fun at 'Christian' radio that is constantly urging us to be 'positive and encouraging'. There is certainly some good here, especially when most of the garbage on the dial is anger, lust, greed and banality. But we should be careful that the only notes we strike are in that 'positive and encouraging key'. In this we miss (or at least we choose to ignore) a good portion of the whole counsel of God's Word. Consider our Psalm for today, Psalm 30, which is filled with that mixture of praise and lament:

To you, O Lord, I cry,
and to the Lord I plead for mercy:
"What profit is there in my death, if I go down to the pit?
Will the dust praise you? Will it tell of your faithfulness?
Hear, O Lord, and be merciful to me!
O Lord, be my helper!"

Yet, it moves from lament and pleading for mercy, to this:

You have turned for me my mourning into dancing;
you have loosed my sackclothand clothed me with gladness,
that my glory may sing your praise and not be silent.
O Lord my God, I will give thanks to you forever!

There is 'a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance'. God has begun his great redemptive work of grace in our lives. His kingdom and power are indeed 'already' here. We can bask each day in his goodness. We could spend each moment singing his praises, our hearts filled with joy. His salvation has come in the person and work of Jesus Christ. If the Israelites returning to Jerusalem could glory in the foundation that was laid, how much more can we glory from this side of the cross, having seen Jesus, 'the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature' (Heb. 1:3). But, there is also the reality that we are 'strangers and aliens' on the earth, we still 'sojourn in Meshech and dwell in the tents of Kedar' (meaning we are still 'wilderness wanderers').

Consider as well our reading today from Mark 8. It is a glorious passage of the mighty miracles of Christ. We should praise and worship Christ as we consider his works in Mark's gospel account. At the same time, there is the painful reality in all these acts of the presence of sin: the hungry crowds, the unbelieving Pharisees, the blind and the lame, the foolishness of the disciples, the impending cloud of the death of the Messiah. Of course, with the coming of Christ, 'the time is fulfilled, the kingdom is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel' (Mark 1:15).

At the same time, that time has 'not yet' come. At that time, God will 'wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more'. Until that time, there is still sin and death, grief and mourning, crying and pain. The 'former' things have not yet passed away. In Ezra 3, as in all times where there is both joy over the blessings of God and sorrow over sin and death, the chord of sorrow over 'former things' was struck by those seasoned Israelites in the worship service, as were the notes of joy and praise.

I think of my prayers for our new little girl, Chloe Eloise. As I consider the wonders of this gift of God to us, and to the world, my heart is filled with joy and with praise. But, there is always that note of uncertainty, of lament, as I lay my child before the throne of grace. Will she live to be an old woman with a whole lifetime of service to God? Or will she be taken away by the mysterious hand of providence as a child? What joys await us on this journey as a family? But, then again, what sorrows? Will Chloe grow up to serve and love the living God through Christ her Savior? Or will she turn away from the grace of Christ and give into a life of rebellion and enmity towards God? My prayers are always fraught with fear, anxiety, and pleading with God for mercy.

If I am reading the Psalms right, God calls his people to lament. He beckons us to come with our fears and cares. And in such pleading and striving against the world, the flesh and the devil, he comforts me. His comfort does not seem to come with a slap on the back and a nudge under my chin ('Be positive! Be encouraged!'), but with an embrace mingled with sovereign mercy and almighty power. This embrace says, 'I am God and there is no other!' This embrace says, 'Trust me with your life and with your little ones, for I am good.' This embrace says, 'weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes in the morning.'

At such times of sovereign care, it is difficult to distinguish tears of mourning from tears of joy. And this is the way our gracious Lord would have it until his hand wipes the tears away.