“But if Judgment Day isn’t hidden from the Almighty, why are we kept in the dark? There are people out there getting by with murder— stealing and lying and cheating. They rip off the poor and exploit the unfortunate, Push the helpless into the ditch, bully the weak so that they fear for their lives. The poor, like stray dogs and cats, scavenge for food in back alleys. They sort through the garbage of the rich, eke out survival on handouts. Homeless, they shiver through cold nights on the street; they’ve no place to lay their heads. Exposed to the weather, wet and frozen, they huddle in makeshift shelters. Nursing mothers have their babies snatched from them; the infants of the poor are kidnapped and sold. They go about patched and threadbare; even the hard workers go hungry. No matter how backbreaking their labor, they can never make ends meet. People are dying right and left, groaning in torment. The wretched cry out for help and God does nothing, acts like nothing’s wrong!
Zephaniah 1:7The Message“Quiet now! Reverent silence before me, God, the Master! Time’s up. My Judgment Day is near: The Holy Day is all set, the invited guests made holy. On the Holy Day, God’s Judgment Day, I will punish the leaders and the royal sons; I will punish those who dress up like foreign priests and priestesses, Who introduce pagan prayers and practices; And I’ll punish all who import pagan superstitions that turn holy places into hellholes. Judgment Day!” God’s Decree! “Cries of panic from the city’s Fish Gate, Cries of terror from the city’s Second Quarter, sounds of great crashing from the hills! Wail, you shopkeepers on Market Street! Moneymaking has had its day. The god Money is dead. On Judgment Day, I’ll search through every closet and alley in Jerusalem. I’ll find and punish those who are sitting it out, fat and lazy, amusing themselves and taking it easy, Who think, ‘God doesn’t do anything, good or bad. He isn’t involved, so neither are we.’ But just wait. They’ll lose everything they have, money and house and land. They’ll build a house and never move in. They’ll plant vineyards and never taste the wine. See the chapter |
39 Cross References
“Once I’ve finished with earth and sky, I’ll start in on Edom. I’ll come down hard on Edom, a people I’ve slated for total termination.” God has a sword, thirsty for blood and more blood, a sword hungry for well-fed flesh, Lamb and goat blood, the suet-rich kidneys of rams. Yes, God has scheduled a sacrifice in Bozrah, the capital, the whole country of Edom a slaughterhouse. A wholesale slaughter, wild animals and farm animals alike slaughtered. The whole country soaked with blood, all the ground greasy with fat.
“But it’s not your day. It’s the Master’s, me, God-of-the-Angel-Armies— the day when I have it out with my enemies, The day when Sword puts an end to my enemies, when Sword exacts vengeance. I, the Master, God-of-the-Angel-Armies, will pile them on an altar—a huge sacrifice!— In the great north country, along the mighty Euphrates.
“‘Judgment Day! Fate has caught up with you. The scepter outsized and pretentious, pride bursting all bounds, Violence strutting, brandishing the evil scepter. But there’s nothing to them, and nothing will be left of them. Time’s up. Countdown: five, four, three, two . . . Buyer, don’t boast; seller, don’t worry: Judgment wrath has turned the world topsy-turvy. The bottom has dropped out of buying and selling. It will never be the same again. But don’t fantasize an upturn in the market. The country is bankrupt because of its sins, and it’s not going to get any better.
What a day! Doomsday! God’s Judgment Day has come. The Strong God has arrived. This is serious business! Food is just a memory at our tables, as are joy and singing from God’s Sanctuary. The seeds in the field are dead, barns deserted, Grain silos abandoned. Who needs them? The crops have failed! The farm animals groan—oh, how they groan! The cattle mill around. There’s nothing for them to eat. Not even the sheep find anything.
“The Great Judgment Day of God is almost here. It’s countdown time: . . . seven, six, five, four . . . Bitter and noisy cries on my Judgment Day, even strong men screaming for help. Judgment Day is payday—my anger paid out: a day of distress and anguish, a day of catastrophic doom, a day of darkness at noon, a day of black storm clouds, a day of bloodcurdling war cries, as forts are assaulted, as defenses are smashed. I’ll make things so bad they won’t know what hit them. They’ll walk around groping like the blind. They’ve sinned against God! Their blood will be poured out like old dishwater, their guts shoveled into slop buckets. Don’t plan on buying your way out. Your money is worthless for this. This is the Day of God’s Judgment—my wrath! I care about sin with fiery passion— A fire to burn up the corrupted world, a wildfire finish to the corrupting people.”
“Count on it: The day is coming, raging like a forest fire. All the arrogant people who do evil things will be burned up like stove wood, burned to a crisp, nothing left but scorched earth and ash—a black day. But for you, sunrise! The sun of righteousness will dawn on those who honor my name, healing radiating from its wings. You will be bursting with energy, like colts frisky and frolicking. And you’ll tromp on the wicked. They’ll be nothing but ashes under your feet on that Day.” God-of-the-Angel-Armies says so.
Who in the world do you think you are to second-guess God? Do you for one moment suppose any of us knows enough to call God into question? Clay doesn’t talk back to the fingers that mold it, saying, “Why did you shape me like this?” Isn’t it obvious that a potter has a perfect right to shape one lump of clay into a vase for holding flowers and another into a pot for cooking beans? If God needs one style of pottery especially designed to show his angry displeasure and another style carefully crafted to show his glorious goodness, isn’t that all right? Either or both happens to Jews, but it also happens to the other people. Hosea put it well: I’ll call nobodies and make them somebodies; I’ll call the unloved and make them beloved. In the place where they yelled out, “You’re nobody!” they’re calling you “God’s living children.” Isaiah maintained this same emphasis: If each grain of sand on the seashore were numbered and the sum labeled “chosen of God,” They’d be numbers still, not names; salvation comes by personal selection. God doesn’t count us; he calls us by name. Arithmetic is not his focus. Isaiah had looked ahead and spoken the truth: If our powerful God had not provided us a legacy of living children, We would have ended up like ghost towns, like Sodom and Gomorrah. How can we sum this up? All those people who didn’t seem interested in what God was doing actually embraced what God was doing as he straightened out their lives. And Israel, who seemed so interested in reading and talking about what God was doing, missed it. How could they miss it? Because instead of trusting God, they took over. They were absorbed in what they themselves were doing. They were so absorbed in their “God projects” that they didn’t notice God right in front of them, like a huge rock in the middle of the road. And so they stumbled into him and went sprawling. Isaiah (again!) gives us the metaphor for pulling this together: Careful! I’ve put a huge stone on the road to Mount Zion, a stone you can’t get around. But the stone is me! If you’re looking for me, you’ll find me on the way, not in the way.