Over the past few years, since my first trip to Israel in 2016, I’ve had a strong interest in understanding what the people of Israel experienced when they were exiled to Babylon. For over four hundred years the people of Israel and Judah had, in Jerusalem, a place that God described as his dwelling place (Ps 132:13) and that He had “sanctified this house, that My name may be there forever; and My eyes and My heart will be there perpetually” (2 Chron 7:16). These people literally had among them the presence of God (Habakkuk 2:20). This is the place that the cloud that had led the people of Israel out of Egypt had come to rest inside of the temple Solomon built (1 Kings 8:10-11 & 2 Chron 5:13).
After a number of leaders who drew the people away from God rather than toward Him, God took Ezekiel on a pretty crazy trip. God grabbed the prophet by the hair as he took the form of a man on fire from the thighs down while He appeared as glowing metal from the belt up (Ezekiel 8). Through the following two chapters, God showed Ezekiel a vision of the temple, those who had defiled it, the terrible sins they were attempting to hide, and the coming wrath upon those in Jerusalem. God then made a dramatic exit from the temple in the following chapter (Ezekiel 10:18). The presence of God was gone. Destruction and judgement were eminent, exile was coming. Ezekiel was to warn the people and tell them of the vision.
The people of Israel were about to spend 70 years in their “new” home of Babylon. God told them to build homes and settle down (Jeremiah 29:5). The religious leaders went through a time of crisis as they considered the fact that God had left them and it seemed that the god of the Babylonians, Marduk, had driven out the God who had parted the Red Sea. Were they to surrender to this “new” worship? Many, as demonstrated in Ezekiel 8, had already sold themselves to a pantheon of idols. Gone was their sense of the way things had always been. After three (or four depending on how you read the texts) sieges over several decades the destruction of the temple was complete. The People of God were extracted from the Promised Land of God. The prosperous and strong were removed while the poor and broken left behind to tend to an empty Jerusalem absent the presence of Jehovah Jireh, their provider.
Those living 2600 years ago endured a change more extreme than what we’re experiencing now. The exile took about 25% of the people away from their homeland and those left behind were forced to struggle to make life work. During our current situation, about 58% of all small businesses surveyed in July by the US Chamber of commerce were concerned about closing permanently due to the pandemic response. While most of us have not been displaced, we have witnessed a cultural shift that few, if any, have previously witnessed in our own lifetimes. In the past few months little has been unaffected, even the very way in which our churches are allowed gather and worship is “new” – not unlike those from the Babylonian exile.
Thankfully, exile wasn’t the end of the story for the People of God in the Promised Land. Judaism has looked different in practice ever since (rise of the rabbi and synagogue – a subject for another time). However, in the midst of the judgment, God left the people with hope. Ezekiel was told to say that God would remain their sanctuary while in foreign countries (Ezekiel 11:16). They would be gathered once again (v.17) and given back the land of Israel that would then be cleaned of the detestable things. Most importantly, God said, “I will give them one heart, and put a ‘new’ spirit within them. And I will take the heart of stone out of their flesh and give them a heart of flesh, that they may walk in My statutes and keep My ordinances and do them. Then they will be My people, and I shall be their God.” (Ezekiel 11:19-20)
I imagine that the people of the exile had tired of the word “new” as well. Then God did what God does. He took something terrible and redeemed it. These people would be given a “new” spirit and one heart, removing the heart of stone and replacing it with a heart of flesh. The result would be a lasting relationship. Seventy years after this promise was delivered, Ezra led a group back to Jerusalem to rebuild the temple. However, in this new temple, we never hear of the presence of the Lord filling it. The ancient ways were recreated but it was not the same. Yet, for those who followed God, there was unity. God’s promise of a “new” spirit and one heart were realized.
Fast forward about 500 years. The second temple had been expanded greatly by a ruler appointed by Rome, the occupier. A young family entered the temple with a child and the intent to present this firstborn male to the Lord (Luke 2:22-24) as commanded under the Law (Exodus 13:2). Simeon, described as righteous and devout, looking for the consolation of Israel, had the Holy Spirit upon him. What he witnessed, none had seen since Ezekiel’s vision. However, this was no bright cloud. The presence of the Lord was in the temple for the first time since the dramatic exit. This time, though, it was in the form of flesh and blood. The consolation of Israel is the redemption of the world, for those who believe. The hope and promise given to Abraham in the wilderness that the whole world shall be blessed through this seed (Genesis 12:3) is as much ours as it was for the people of Israel who would later live in that land all those years ago. That promise was realized in this moment by Simeon and soon thereafter fulfilled at the resurrection.
Two thousand years later, as we participate in the gospel, children of the “new” covenant, let us wait expectantly on the next set of “new” before us. In Revelation 21, John tells us of a “new” heaven and a “new” earth, a “new” Jerusalem made ready as a bride for her “new” husband. A loud voice will then proclaim that the tabernacle of God is among men, that He will dwell among us, we shall be His people and God Himself will be among us. There will be no more tears, no more death, no more mourning, no more crying, no more pain. He who sits upon the throne shall proclaim, “Behold, I am making all things ‘new’. (Rev 21:5)” We are told that these words are faithful and true.
My hope and prayer for the families of our school is that you will be encouraged in this abundance of “new”. We have a Good God who doesn’t waste a crisis (but in a good way). There was a period of time in the midst of the “new” that I found myself with a hardened heart and a bitter spirit. If you find yourself there, please repent. Receive the “new” spirit and allow God to replace your heart of stone with the one of flesh offered freely by our Redeemer. Take back the word “new” from our culture and rest in the promise that what lies ahead for those of us called Children of God is freedom from the pain and mourning of today.
In parting, I’d like to also welcome the 80 “new” families that have joined Heritage since June. In a way, many of you are feeling a little like you’re in Babylon right now. “New” saturates your world right now on a daily basis for your entire family. Please know that those of us further along on the homeschool journey at HCS are more than willing, excited even, to help. When our family started with HCS 14 years ago if not for the care of a couple of families, I’m not sure if we would have made it. Our office team has some of the best people you could imagine at helping you find your footing. A “new” mentoring program is being put into place to partner with each “new” and veteran family so that this year can be the best possible for each of our students and parents.
While this year will certainly be unlike the years before, let’s all come together in one heart to make it unforgettable for all the right reasons.