returning to their homeland!. Curious as it may seem, many were reluctant to do so, since they had already established themselves in profitable businesses in Babylon and had no desire to face a new
existence in what would, for them, be essentially a pioneer country. The prophet urges them to remember that life has rewards to offer which are far more valuable than anything which money can buy (v. 2). Security seemed to them the greatest of life’s values, but true security comes only to those who hear the voice of God and gladly obey His call (3—5). As so frequently happens, the opportunity comes only once, never to return again (6). The ways of God may seem mysterious (8), but His promises are sure (10ff). Although spoken so long ago, the words of the prophet are as meaningful for men of our own materialistic, security-conscious age as they were for the Jews of ancient Babylon.
The vision of Second Isaiah was far too great to be realized within the framework of the political history of Israel and it is not surprising that Christians have always seen in his words an anticipation of the
redeeming work of Christ and the glories of his kingdom. Lessons chosen from Second Isaiah are particularly familiar to members of liturgical churches from hearing them read with this application in the Christmas and Epiphany seasons. In our last passage (Luke 3:1--6) the evangelist uses some of the prophet’s most familiar words as a
magnificent overture to the opening Scene in tile story of our Lord’s public ministry.
XVI. AFTER THE RETURN— NEW TROUBLES AND NEW
The whole story of this long period—over five hundred years—is contained in the books of Ezra and Nehemiah (and, outside the canonical Old Testament, in I—Il Maccabees and the histories of Josephus). The first reading suggested above from Ezra (1:1—2; 2:
1—2, 64—70) tells briefly of the return of some of the Jews to Palestine in response to Cyrus’ decree and introduces us to Zerubbabel and
Joshua, the leaders of the little post-exilic community in Jerusalem.
Joshua was the high priest, while Zerubbabel, a member of the royal family who is listed in the New Testament as one of the ancestors of Jesus (Matt. 1:12), was civil governor in the Persian administration.
The first important achievement of the returned exiles was the
rebuilding of the ruined temple. Ezra 5:1f tells very briefly how this was brought about. Fortunately we are able to supplement this inadequate account by turning to the book of Haggai (chap. 1) and to Zechariah 1—8, which contain the actual pronouncements of the two spiritual leaders chiefly responsible for getting the work started. During the first years after the return from Babylon, the people had been too busy building houses for themselves (Hag. 1:4) and trying to cope with the discouraging economic situation (v. 6) to give much thought to the building of a temple, but Haggai convinced them that their selfish disregard of God’s glory was a major source of their troubles (8—11).
The prophet’s arguments are admittedly not on the highest religious plane and may seem to us a little over-simple, but at least they were effective, for the new temple was begun in 520 B.C. (12—15) and completed four years later.
The rebuilding of the temple did not result in any sudden, miraculous improvement in the material condition of the people, but it did at least provide Israel once more with a center for her spiritual life. The great love which later Jews were to feel toward Jerusalem and the house of God really grew up in connection with this second temple,
architecturally insignificant though it was, rather than with the older and more imposing temple of Solomon. It was for this temple that many, perhaps most, of the Psalms were composed; and the Book of Psalms was assembled to be used as its hymnal.
Postexilic Israel never amounted to much as a nation (except during a brief period in the second and first centuries B.C. when she was ruled by the descendants of the Maccabees). Most of the time Palestine was only an unimportant province of some great world empire, inhabited by
people who were economically and culturally poor and famous only for what seemed to the rest of the world certain strange ideas about religion and a fanatical devotion to their God.
One result of the narrowing and impoverishing of Jewish life was an increased devotion to the traditional written Law. Lacking a king and all the other external signs of nationhood, it was only natural that strict observance of time Law should come to seem the very essence of being a Jew. In Nehemiah 8:i—8 we find the story of a solemn public
ceremony in which the Law (some part of the Pentateuch) was read to the people by Ezra, the great religious hero of postexilic Judaism, and enthusiastically accepted by them. l~Iuch as we must sympathize with the Jews in these difficult times and honor them for the tenacity which enabled them to survive at all, Christians cannot but regret the
narrowing of Israel’s horizons which necessarily resulted from this concentration on mere legalistic observance, this growing emphasis upon the Covenant of Law rather than upon the more basic Covenant of Faith.
For the most part the story of the last five centuries before the Christian era is a sad and uninspiring one. It almost seems as though Israel’s creative spiritual force had exhausted itself in the exalted thoughts and magnificent language of Second Isaiah. But in spite of the general
depression of these times there were many who dreamed more fervently than ever of the time when God would show His power and goodness by establishing His kingly rule on earth. Indeed the worse times became, the brighter the hope sometimes seemed to flourish, as in the latter part of Daniel, written during the most desperate crisis of the age.
Typical of these postexilic expressions of faith is the idyllic portrait of the future King of Peace found in an anonymous oracle now attached to the book of Zechariah (9:1--10). "Shout, 0 daughter of Jerusalem,
behold thy king cometh unto thee . . lowly and riding upon an ass" (v.
9). It was to this hopeful and forward-looking aspect of Judaism that our Lord attached himself by his actions on the first Palm Sunday (Matt.
21:1—5).
The Old Testament ends inconclusively, on an unresolved chord; the conclusion of the story and the resolution of the chord are found in the New Testament, to which, after a brief interlude with the Apocrypha, we now must turn.