ON THE TWENTY-FOURTH day of the eleventh month, the month of Shebat, in the second year of Darius, the word of the LORD came to the prophet Zechariah son of Berekiah, the son of Iddo.
8During the night I had a vision—and there before me was a man riding a red horse! He was standing among the myrtle trees in a ravine. Behind him were red, brown and white horses.
9I asked, “What are these, my lord?”
The angel who was talking with me answered, “I will show you what they are.”
10Then the man standing among the myrtle trees explained, “They are the ones the LORD has sent to go throughout the earth.”
11And they reported to the angel of the LORD, who was standing among the myrtle trees, “We have gone throughout the earth and found the whole world at rest and in peace.”
12Then the angel of the LORD said, “LORD Almighty, how long will you withhold mercy from Jerusalem and from the towns of Judah, which you have been angry with these seventy years?” 13So the LORD spoke kind and comforting words to the angel who talked with me.
14Then the angel who was speaking to me said, “Proclaim this word: This is what the LORD Almighty says: ‘I am very jealous for Jerusalem and Zion, 15but I am very angry with the nations that feel secure. I was only a little angry, but they added to the calamity.’
16“Therefore, this is what the LORD says: ‘I will return to Jerusalem with mercy, and there my house will be rebuilt. And the measuring line will be stretched out over Jerusalem,’ declares the LORD Almighty.
17“Proclaim further: This is what the LORD Almighty says: ‘My towns will again overflow with prosperity, and the LORD will again comfort Zion and choose Jerusalem.’ ”
IN THE OVERALL SCHEME of Zechariah 1–8, 1:7 is the doorway into the visionary world of the prophet. We can see this entrance not merely by the presence of genre elements distinct from 1:1–6 but also by the occurrence of the second of three superscriptions (cf. 1:1, 7; 7:1), identifying the date as the twenty-fourth day of the eleventh month (Shebat) in the second year of Darius—that is, February 15, 519 B.C.
The Setting (1:8a)
THIS SERIES OF VISIONS in 1:7–6:15 is often referred to as the “night visions.” This first vision comes “during the night” (1:8). Later in 4:1, Zechariah informs us that the angel “wakened me, as a man is wakened from his sleep,” repeating the nocturnal motif. No other historical superscription is provided until the reader leaves the night vision series in 7:1, suggesting that all these visions and their accompanying oracles were delivered to the people on that twenty-fourth day of the eleventh month in the second year of Darius. However, the superscription only informs us when Zechariah proclaims these visions to the people, not when he experienced them.
The historical context suggested by several of the night visions appears to be earlier than the superscription in 1:7. The first vision gives no evidence that there has been a break in the Exile since the beginning of deportations in the early part of the sixth century. The second vision identifies that the nations who were at peace and feeling secure in the first vision are the same nations who scattered Judah (1:21). This nation is clearly identified in 2:6–13 as Babylon, the land of the north, the same nation on which God pours out wrath in 6:1–8 and to which idolatry is sent in 5:5–11. These pieces of evidence suggest that these visions reflect the final days of the Babylonian empire (545–539 B.C.), nearly twenty years prior to the date given in 1:7.
It is possible that Zechariah first delivered these visions to the exiles in Babylon prior to the Persian conquest of the ancient Near East and now reuses them (either in oral or written form) for those who have returned to the land. It is also possible that these visions are merely retrospective, reviewing what God has already done and taking the people on a journey into the heavenly realms to the time when power transferred from Babylonia to Persia. But is there a simpler option?1
Both Persian and Greek historical sources depict a relatively smooth transition from Babylonian to Persian rule for the city of Babylon and its immediately surrounding territories. The powerful priestly faction in Babylon had grown dissatisfied with the final Babylonian emperor (Nabonidus), and the people readily accepted Cyrus’s rule. Cyrus secured continuity in this transition by favoring the priests and their temples and by retaining high ranking bureaucrats who had served Nabonidus. This kind of treatment of foreign populations helps explain why the Jews were allowed to return to Palestine and rebuild their temple, ensuring that Cyrus would be celebrated within Jewish tradition as a great liberator.
Cyrus did not, however, fulfill the prophetic expectation that the Babylonians would be judged by God for their mistreatment of the Jews (e.g., Jer. 50–51). It was Darius who fulfilled this expectation, after the Babylonians revolted three times in the transition from Cambyses to Darius, rebellions that were met with significant force and brutality by the new king.
These visions, therefore, fit the historical context of the Jewish community living in the wake of recent upheavals in the Persian empire associated with Cambyses and Darius. The period of Babylon’s “rest” has ended and the enemy of the Jews is finally receiving punishment for their abuse of Israel. This punishment is a key component of the restoration hope in the exilic period and serves as a catalyst for the fuller restoration that will occur during Darius’s reign, the miracle that includes rebuilding the city and temple and restoring the rhythms of spiritual renewal.
The Scene (1:8b)
IN THE FIRST night vision Zechariah records a scene drawn from the military context. A “man” is riding a red horse, standing among the myrtle trees with a group of horses behind him. The translation of the NIV, with its use of the word “red” and the insertion of an exclamation mark, implies that there is something odd about the scene.2 In reality this is not odd at all.3
The colors identified for the horses are the normal range of colors found in nature. The Hebrew term for “red” (ʾadom) can be used for a deep brown horse or a chestnut horse, for the chromatic range of this word includes brown (animals), yellowish-brown (lentils), deep red (blood), wine color (wine), and pink (flesh).4 The Hebrew term behind “brown” (śaroq) should be translated “sorrel,” a color combining red and white that produces a pinkish tone and is found among horses.5 The final color, “white” (laban), regularly occurs among horses. There is no need then to attach symbolic meanings to the colors of the horses in this scene. Moreoever, these colors may have been used to provide camouflage for the riders at this particular time of year.6
There is no indication as to the number of horses behind the “man riding a red horse.” Literally the Hebrew reads: “Behind him there were horses, chestnut ones, sorrel ones, and white ones,” which may mean that there are three troops grouped according to color.7 While there is no indication as to whether there are mounts on these horses, most likely there are since in 1:11 “they” report to the angel of the Lord, filling the role of military spies who report on the conditions of the world.8 The reader is tipped off to this by the use of the verb “go throughout/have gone throughout” (Zech. 1:10–11). This verb speaks about a journey over an extensive territory. In Joshua 18:4 men are appointed to survey the land, and in 1 Chronicles 21:4 Joab goes throughout Israel to count David’s troops. Those mounted on the horses have been surveying military conditions in the world and now report back to their commanding officer.
Horses will reappear in the final vision in Zech. 6:1–8. But there is a different color scheme there, and the horses will be pulling chariots. This is an important contrast. The horses in our first vision are chosen for speed, not strength. Their mission is different from that in the later vision (see Original Meaning section of 6:1–8).
The position of the horses “among the myrtle trees in a ravine” is the natural setting for a secret reconnaissance rendezvous. The myrtle tree, an evergreen bush growing between six and eight feet, provides an ideal cover in the barren Palestine winter landscape. The word “ravine” (meṣulah) is more difficult to interpret. Every other occurrence of this morpheme refers to the watery deep,9 but Zechariah 1 contains no water imagery. It is probably related to the Hebrew root ṣll (“to grow dark, shadow”) and the noun ṣel (“shadow, shade”). This root is connected with trees in Ezekiel 31:3, in which the branches of a cedar overshadow the forest (cf. also Neh. 13:19). With this in mind, the Hebrew word for “in a ravine” perhaps should be translated “in the shadows,” referring metaphorically to the secret position of the horses in the shadows of the trees, where a debriefing after a reconnaissance mission can occur.
There has been some confusion over the identity of the different characters encountered in the night vision.10 The man “standing among the myrtle trees” (Zech. 1:8, 10) is apparently the angel of the Lord, who also is “standing among the myrtle trees” (1:11). The use of the term “man” (ʾiš) does not mean this individual is human (see Gen. 32:24). The angel of the Lord is here pictured in human form receiving the reports from his spies. Some identify this as a Christophany (a preincarnate appearance of Christ),11 but there is no need to do so even when in Zechariah 3:1–2 (and elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible) the angel of the Lord appears to speak as if he were the Lord. The angel of the Lord is the Lord’s special messenger, sent to act and communicate on God’s behalf. He carries with him the authority of the One who sent him.
One may be tempted to identify the angel of the Lord with “the angel who was talking with me” because, although in Zech. 1:9–10 Zechariah’s question is directed to “the angel who was talking with me,” it is the “angel of the LORD” who provides the answer. So also in 1:13, in response to the question of the angel of the Lord in 1:12, the Lord offers comfort to the “angel who talked with me.” However, these angels should probably be kept separate. They are working in tandem to provide revelation. In the first exchange Zechariah asks the subordinate angel a question and that angel takes him to his commanding officer to provide the answer. In the second exchange, it is appropriate that the highest commanding officer speak directly to the Lord, but it is equally appropriate that the Lord bypass the commanding officer and provide the answer to the one who must comfort Zechariah.
What we find in this first vision, then, is a scene drawn from a military context. A group returning from a worldwide reconnaissance mission is reporting back to the commanding officer in a secret location. Such a military scene reminds the readers that the Lord is in control of their history, even if it is not always evident in the experience of those under foreign hegemony.
The Dialogue (1:9–17)
THE REPORT of the reconnaissance mission appears at first to be positive, for the angels have found “the whole world at rest and peace.” This, however, is hardly comforting to the angel of the Lord, who appears to be looking for evidence of an upheaval that will usher in a new day for God’s people. He takes on the intermediary role of the prophet and cries out to Yahweh: “How long?” This question, a borderline accusation implying that God is ultimately in charge of their suffering, is familiar to the Hebrew reader from its use in the classic laments of the Psalter (cf. Ps. 6:4; 74:10; 80:5; 90:13).12 In this genre of psalm God’s people cry to him to transform their difficult circumstances. The angel of the Lord voices the cry of the people awaiting the end of their exile. Here the prophet sees that the concern of the people on the earthly plane (see Zech. 7:1–5) is a major theme in the heavenly court.
The angel of the Lord identifies Yahweh as the sovereign judge who remains in control of the discipline of his covenant people (1:12). “Jerusalem” and “the towns of Judah” refer to these people, subtly alluding to the physical aspect of the restoration in the Persian period. Yahweh has been withholding mercy from his people, which is traced back to his “angry” disposition toward them. The word for God’s anger in 1:12 (zaʿam) is different from that used in 1:2 (qaṣap), but it speaks to Yahweh’s just disposition towards his disobedient people.
The allusion to the “seventy years” clearly refers to the Exile, the purpose of which was to discipline God’s people. This motif of seventy years is well known from the prophet Jeremiah (see Jer. 25:11–12; 29:10; see also 2 Chron. 36:21; Dan. 9:2). Jeremiah is cited as the source in both 2 Chronicles 36:21 and Daniel 9:2, but not in Zechariah 1:12 or 7:5.13
Jeremiah uses the seventy-year motif for the period of Jewish servitude to the king of Babylon, after which God will punish the Babylonians and provide salvation for the Jews. Ascertaining the precise starting and ending dates of this time period, however, has been a point of debate in the history of interpretation.14 The use of this motif in 2 Chronicles 36:21, where the rise of Cyrus is seen as evidence of the end of the Exile, appears to link the ending date with the events surrounding 539 B.C. This may be the case in Daniel 9:2, although there is considerable confusion over the identity of Darius the Mede.15
The references in Zechariah show connection and yet divergence from the previous evidence. The seventy years in Zech. 1:12 speaks of a period prior to the visionary experience. This vision, along with the ones in 1:18–21 and 6:1–8, make it clear that God’s punishment of the Babylonians lies in the near future and will bring an end to the seventy years. Additionally, the reference in 7:5 reveals that the seventy-year period is still continuing in 518 B.C. This suggests that for Zechariah the seventy years of exile endured until the reign of Darius; in other words, either Zechariah disagrees with the Chronicler on the literal fulfillment of the seventy years of exile or the seventy-year image is figurative in nature. In order to answer this we need to look at the use of this image elsewhere in the ancient Near East and the Bible.
The image of seventy years as a motif connected with the destruction of a city by divine wrath is found on the Black Stone of Esarhaddon. There seventy years is the period of desolation of the city of Babylon, an interval later reduced to only eleven years.16 But why seventy years? The answer to this remains a mystery, but the strongest clues comes from two passages in the Old Testament. First of all, seventy years is used as a motif for the punishment of the city of Tyre in Isaiah 23:15–18, where it is referred to as “the span of a king’s life.” Furthermore, Psalm 90:10 uses “seventy” to refer generally to the life span of a human being. Most likely seventy years for exile functions in the same way as forty years functioned for the desert generation. It was a period of time that ensured that the disobedient were cleansed from the community.
This evidence helps us to resolve the debate over whether the seventy-year motif is symbolic or literal. As noted in Psalm 90, this motif is a general term for the human life span (both seventy and eighty are given, though seventy is the normal life span), but this is an approximate period. Thus, the number functions in one way symbolically, but in another it is intended to refer to a literal span of life, not some completely undefined period.
Applying this argument to the issue of the seventy years of exile, a via media approach emerges. Seventy years is a symbol that refers to the span of human life, an appropriate time for the desolation of a land to ensure that the guilty generation has passed away. At the same time, it does refer to a literal period, even if the community and prophet are not timing this period down to the very second.17
As we said earlier, the “How long?” cry of the angel of the Lord reflects on the divine plane the human longing of this period. Here we encounter a cry for the end of the Exile using the genre of communal lament. As we listen in on God’s response to the angel’s cry, we hear echoed the themes of penitential prayer, which we first encountered in Zech. 1:1–6: God was justifiably angry, but now it is time for restoration.
Even before we hear God’s message, we are prepared for a positive response for he speaks “kind and comforting words” to the angel. “Kind” words are “pleasant” words, words that are positive (using an adjective often translated as “good”). The word “comforting” speaks to the nature of these pleasant words and sets them against the context of the hardship of the Exile alluded to in the previous verse. These words, however, are not meant for the subordinate angel alone. He is to act as an intermediary, passing on the message to the prophet, who in turn is God’s agent for communicating to his people.
The message proper is given in Zech. 1:14–17. Zechariah is to announce salvation to the people of God. As in 1:12, so now throughout the announcement, the people are symbolized in urban terms like “Jerusalem,” “towns,” and “Zion.” The content of the message merges the physical and social aspects of the restoration.
The Lord expresses his message again in highly emotive terms. His promise flows out of his character and is secured by his intense loyalty to his people. He proclaims that he is “very jealous” for Jerusalem and Zion. This term (qanaʾ ) reveals the intense passion of God for his people and his city and can be translated as either “zealous” or “jealous.” God’s passion for his people is reflected at times in his zealous care for them, but when they do not display exclusive devotion to him, he is passionately jealous, demanding such devotion.
The zeal of God for his people is then linked with the anger of God toward the nations (Zech. 1:15). This is accomplished grammatically by the juxtaposition of the two concepts in chiastic ordering in Hebrew: “I am zealous for Jerusalem and for Zion with great zeal, and with great anger I am angry with the nations.” God’s passionate zeal for his people is expressed through his passionate anger with the nations who abused them. The degree of his anger toward his people is far below the level of abuse inflicted on them by the nations.18
This revelation that God’s anger is “little” does not contradict the message of 1:2 that God is very angry with his people.19 At issue in 1:15 is a comparison between God’s design for judgment and the nations’ expression of that judgment. This does not then let the Israelites off the hook for their disobedience. Yahweh reminds them he was justifiably angry with Israel for breaking covenant, but the nations have taken this beyond God’s desired discipline.
After describing the present situation, the prophetic message makes a transition to the announcement of salvation with the word “therefore” (1:16). Yahweh promises to “return to Jerusalem with mercy.” This declaration plays off of two previous statements in this chapter. In the near context, it is a direct response to the cry of the angel of the Lord (1:12) as the Hebrew root (rḥm) is expressed in nominal form, “mercy” (raḥamim). In the larger context of chapter 1, it brings closure to the promise expressed in 1:3, for now that the people have “returned” (1:6; NIV “repented”; cf. 1:3), Yahweh responds and promises his return.
Earlier we noted that the return of Yahweh to his people refers to the return of his glorious presence to the temple (see comments on 1:3). This is further bolstered in 1:16 by the immediately following statement—“there my house will be rebuilt”—and the reference to the measuring line stretched out over Jerusalem. The “house” is obviously the temple, a necessity if God’s presence is to reside once again in Jerusalem. The “measuring line” (qaw) refers to a string used by builders to ascertain the line of the city walls, one of the first acts in construction. Although the term “measuring” (middah) is not included here, this is implied by the context. The word functions as a metonymy for the whole process of rebuilding. By speaking of the initial step, the prophet refers to the entire project.
Zechariah’s message will not avoid the rebuilding project. In this way he echoes the message of Haggai, who spoke of the reconstruction of the temple and of the expected prosperity in the rebuilt city. But Zechariah’s message moves in new directions, building on the foundation of Haggai’s revelation. He places more emphasis on the divine and human inhabitants of the temple structure. He is more concerned to speak of God’s return to fill the temple and the sign of his new disposition of mercy and of the people’s renewal of covenant duties and standards.
One can see here the influence of the great prophet Ezekiel.20 Zechariah’s words echo two motifs found in Ezekiel: the return of Yahweh to his temple as the sign of restoration (Ezek. 43:4) and the measuring line as symbol of rebuilding (40:1–3). Zechariah’s vision, however, expands beyond the temple by speaking of God’s attention to the city as a whole.
Zechariah 1:17 takes the prophet’s announcement a final crucial step. Not only will God rebuild his house and his city, but he will also make them prosperous as he comforts and chooses them. This again links the oracle back to the initial message offered to the subordinate angel in 1:13. The same Hebrew roots are picked up here in Zech. 1:17 (“kind and comforting words”; “prosperity . . . comfort”). But even more important is the subtle link here to the preexilic experience of the nation by the repetition of “again.” Those times of prosperity in the past, namely, the period of David and Solomon, will once again be realized.
The verb “choose” (bḥr), not found in the initial message to the subordinate angel in 1:13, is important for the Persian period community. Other references to the “choosing” of Jerusalem in the Old Testament are exclusively linked to the function of the first temple as the place of God’s presence (1 Kings 11:13, 32, 36; 14:21; 2 Kings 21:7; 23:27; Ps. 78:68; 132:13). Second Kings 23:27 speaks of God’s rejection of the city he had chosen, a move that leads to its destruction and the exile of its people. When Zechariah is instructed to speak of God’s choice of Jerusalem again, this is a sign to the community that God again has great designs for this city, this rebuilding project, and ultimately his people. This theme will be repeated two more times (2:12; 3:2). God’s return is the key sign that he has chosen Jerusalem once again.
In summary, in this initial night vision our eyes are opened to a spiritual scene. Moving from the prophetic message of Zech. 1:1–6 with evidence of a penitent people in Judah, we see what is happening on the spiritual plane. Angels fresh from a reconnaissance mission throughout the earth report that all is peaceful. This prompts the angel of the Lord to intercede for Israel and to ask why God is not turning toward his people to save them. God answers with comfort and mercy; his passion is turned toward his people to rescue them and bring judgment on the nations. He will return to his temple and city, rebuilding and filling them with prosperity.
Bridging Contexts
FORM AND INTERPRETATION. The literary form of Zechariah’s night visions both attracts and frustrates the modern reader. The use of visionary experience cast within a story framework engages the imagination, enticing us to consider the message by experiencing the vision. In the first vision the prophet could have merely related the message in verses 14–17, but by receiving glimpses into his visionary world the audience is prepared intellectually and emotionally for the message. Unfortunately, however, as the modern reader pursues the precise message intended by the prophet, frustration sets in.
We often associate prophets with verbal communication, individuals who spoke God’s word with authority. There is, however, another aspect to prophetic ministry that is overlooked. The prophets are also visualizers of revelation. This is suggested by two of the most common words for a prophet in the Old Testament: ḥozeh and roʾeh, often translated as “seer” (1 Sam. 9:9; Isa. 30:9, 10; Amos 7:12–16).21 Yahweh defines this visual aspect of the prophetic ministry in Numbers 12:6–8 by describing prophets as those to whom he reveals through dreams and visions.
We have few windows into this visionary aspect of prophetic ministry throughout much of the history of prophetism. Although many of the oracles may have been revealed in this form, all we possess now is the final verbal product in oracular form. But at several places the visionary aspects can be observed. In 1 Kings 22:19–22, the prophet Micaiah relates a visionary experience he had as a preface to his condemnation of King Ahab. The last three chapters of Amos slip into the visionary mode as God dialogues with the prophet, showing him various objects (Amos 7–8) or declaring his word (Amos 9). Jeremiah had similar visionary experiences both at the time of his calling (Zech. 1:11–19) and during Jehoiachin’s reign (Jer. 24; 25:15–33). In Ezekiel the visionary mode becomes a regular feature in prophetic revelation (e.g., Ezek. 1–3; 8; 10; 37; 40–48); also in Daniel visions are clearly dominant (Dan. 7–12).
A comparison of these various books, however, reveals some differences in the character of the visions.22 In Amos and Jeremiah the imagery consists of objects drawn from the normal life of the people: locusts, fire, walls, plumb line, basket of ripe fruit, almond tree branch, boiling pot, two baskets of figs, and cup of wine. In Ezekiel, however, the imagery becomes unusual, such as the living creatures with four faces and four wings connected with wheels (Ezek. 1). Similarly, Daniel speaks of a beast that is like a lion with wings of an eagle. When these wings are torn off, the beast stands like a human on two feet and is given a heart (Dan. 7).
In Amos and Jeremiah the visions are static; that is, there is little motion. In Ezekiel, however, the prophet is on the move and can be whisked from place to place via the heavenly realm (Ezek. 8). So also in Daniel, although the prophet has visions within his head (Dan. 7:15), he sees himself in transit (8:2).
In Amos and Jeremiah the visions are concerned with contemporary issues—in particular, the impending judgment of God’s people because of their disobedience. Likewise in Ezekiel, the issues are contemporary concerns (e.g., his calling or the detestable practices in the temple) or issues in the near future (e.g., the return of Israel or the rebuilding of the temple). With Daniel, however, the visions presage an eschatological era, seeing successions of kingdoms in history (Dan. 7) and periods of seventy times seven years (Dan. 9).
This diversity suggests a development in the genre of prophetic vision, a transformation that ultimately ends in the genre represented by the book of Revelation: apocalyptic. This term is drawn from the Greek word for “revelation” (apocalypsis) and refers to any literature that bears similarity to the book of Revelation. Apocalyptic appears to find its roots in prophetic visionary literature but soon takes on its own character. For many apocalyptic in its full-fledged form is found in Daniel 7–12 and in Revelation, but Ezekiel and even portions of Isaiah (24–27; 56–66) have similarities. These latter examples are often tagged as proto-apocalyptic.23
Gottwald defines apocalyptic as “a type of revelatory literature with a narrative framework in which a revelation about end-time judgment and salvation and/or about the heavenly realms is given to a human being by an otherworldly messenger.”24 It is usually recognizable by the surface features of mediated revelation and bizarre imagery. In it God employs a mediator (Dan. 12:5–13) and/or an otherwordly journey to communicate his message (Ezekiel). Although there is plenty of imagery in prophetic literature, in apocalyptic the imagery is often bizarre and sometimes even grotesque.
Underlying these surface features are several fundamental characteristics. (1) In its fully mature form, apocalyptic asserts a deterministic historiography—that is, that God is sovereign over history and that judgment or salvation is certain. (2) It displays a strong dualism with a sharp division between right and wrong. This feature may appear close to many features in New Age spirituality or even some strains of science fiction, but it is distinct in that God is clearly in control and there is no question of his triumph. (3) As to human involvement, apocalyptic is highly pessimistic, with a rejection of human involvement and belief that God alone can usher in a new era of salvation. (4) Finally, apocalyptic is futuristic in orientation. The events described are in the future and thus one lives for and with the vision of the splendor of the new age with little regard to the impact of the vision on present realities.
These features cannot be divorced from the sociological setting in which apocalyptic arose. In most cases apocalyptic is the product of oppressed societies or classes. The book of Revelation is traditionally placed in the context of John’s imprisonment (Rev. 1:9); Ezekiel (Ezek. 1:1) and Daniel (Dan. 1) are set in the Exile. Such oppression explains why symbolic imagery is a regular feature in apocalyptic. It is useful to veil the true intention or meaning from the oppressors. Such oppression gives rise to the ideological features identified above.
With this review in mind we now turn to the night visions in Zechariah 1–6. In some ways they bear close resemblance to visions of Amos and Jeremiah with their focus on ordinary objects, such as the horse, chariot, measuring line, priestly clothing, olive tree, lampstand, scroll, and measuring basket. Nevertheless, the presentation of these objects is far from ordinary as they are placed in an otherworldly scene and explained by angelic intermediaries. Zechariah 1–6 concerns contemporary issues and thus is closer to Amos, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel than to Daniel and Revelation. Zechariah’s visions are somewhere between the static presentations of Amos and Jeremiah and the mobile experiences of Daniel and Revelation. Thus, the night visions represent prophetic vision in transformation to apocalyptic and can be described as proto-apocalyptic.
In order to understand the message of all visionary material, one needs to be comfortable with its unique method of expressing truth, methods drawn from the wells of narrative and poetry. (1) The interpreter needs to be comfortable with narrative literature and should begin by identifying the setting and characters in the scene. One should not be surprised if these are not always as complete as in a full narrative passage. (2) Prophetic visions and apocalyptic use features drawn from the world of poetry, developing these characters and settings in order to communicate symbolic meaning. One must answer the following crucial question: What would these symbols have meant to the original readers?
Symbols are used in visionary literature for many reasons. In full-blown apocalyptic, as already noted, they may be used to protect the community or individual responsible for the material. But in addition, a symbol may be used for illustrative purposes to portray a message vividly or to capture the imagination and attention of the reader. Finally, a symbol may be used in order to express a message more accurately. Because of people’s inability to understand a cosmic spiritual battle between good and evil, a symbol offers a window into this otherworldly reality.
In order to discern the meaning of the symbol to its original readers, one must first interpret the symbol as a symbol, grasping a clear picture of the image and then identifying what it represents. In doing this one should trace the sources of the symbol to discover its meaning in the community that received it. This will mean sensitivity to other earlier uses of the symbol within the biblical corpus and even within the ancient Near Eastern context. Yet one should be careful not to assume that every visionary/apocalyptic writer uses symbols the same way, although they may be cognizant of other writers, which may contribute to their use of the symbol. Having identified the symbol and its meaning, one can then consider the symbol within its immediate literature context. Symbols should not be abstracted from their respective passages but be placed within that context with sensitivity to how they contribute to the overall message of the passage. Especially note the relationship of the symbol to the main theme being treated.
Familiarity with the passage and its basic features will contribute to the discovery of its overall theme. This theme can be discerned by attention to the flow of the narrative (ultimate plot of the passage), to important dialogue (esp. the voice of God or an intermediary), or to the resulting prophetic message (the prophet may be called to speak in response to the scene).
Prophetic visions and apocalyptic often convey a message of hope or warning. To a people undergoing incredible hardship, God often sends a message of comfort, offering them hope in their deplorable circumstances, or a message of challenge, calling them to faithfulness. He may also send a message of warning, calling them to repent or avoid evil. Visionary scenes may even contain elements of both a negative and positive message.
History and theology. Not only does the literary form frustrate the modern reader, but so does the historical context. The images used in the visions are often lost on the modern and Western reader. We have attempted in the Original Meaning section to unpack these images to modern eyes, but it is difficult to recapture the emotion and impact of these images to the original audience. Beyond the images, the issues of this particular community in the early Persian period are often difficult to connect to our own experience. Most of us have not seen the destruction of our homeland, nor have we lived in bondage in a foreign land, so we cannot connect emotionally with the original audience.
One way of overcoming these frustrations is to tap into the resources of biblical theology (see comments in the introduction, Bridging Contexts section). The New Testament, written in a Greco-Roman-Jewish world, takes the imagery of exile and restoration and translates it into a new covenant context. We learn there that Christ came to bring the ultimate end to exile and restore his people to a kingdom defined by God, not Jewish expectations. The apostolic witness continues this theological transformation reminding us that we are strangers among the nations while we long for the new Jerusalem (Phil. 3:20). We have all felt that longing in our hearts as believers, and in that way the unique historical context of the early Persian period community echoes our own experience and reveals principles for living through these circumstances.
Therefore, with sensitivity to the images of this initial vision and the ones that follow and how they relate to the community to whom they were first addressed, and with the realization of the church’s theological relationship to these ancient visions, we now turn to highlight their contemporary significance to us today.
Contemporary Significance
I REMEMBER A television commercial several years ago that began with a close-up view of a blade of grass in a field, on which was a little ant. After pausing for a moment on this scene, the camera then moved back, away from the blade of grass to the patch of ground, and from the patch of ground to the field, from the field to the province, to the country, to the continent, to the hemisphere, to the globe; then it suspended us as the audience for just a moment before returning at triple speed in reverse order until we were gazing at the ant on the blade of grass. In many ways the first night vision parallels the journey of the commercial. From the tiny Jewish community living in the insignificant province of Yehud, we are taken up into the first of several heavenly scenes, where we are offered a divine viewpoint. While Zech. 1:1–6 described the confession of this community as they responded to God’s call to return to him, the first night vision takes us on a heavenly excursion to hear of God’s intention for this community.
God’s sovereign rule. The visionary scene accentuates the sovereignty of God over the affairs of the world. The reconnaissance mission symbolizes his omniscient awareness of the situation of his people. Similarly, the question “How long?” asked by the angel of the Lord in Zech. 1:12, expresses the assumption that God is superintending the experience of his people.
For those living in exile this was an important issue. In the wake of Jerusalem’s destruction there were at least three responses.25 (1) Some associated the fall of the state with an apparent offense of the Canaanite gods who had been honored before the Israelites’ arrival and urged worship of these gods. (2) Others saw in the defeat of Judah and triumph of Babylon, the defeat of Yahweh and ascendancy of the Babylonian Marduk and advised the worship of the conquering god. (3) Some identified the people’s infidelity against Yahweh as the key issue. As time wore on, however, the first two views became increasingly attractive to those in exile. Was Yahweh really the sovereign Lord? This glimpse into the heavenlies counters that the Lord is well aware of the situation of his people and that he is in charge of their destiny.
Our view of God’s sovereignty is often challenged in the everyday experience of our lives. Such challenges often come from hardship or lack of answers to our prayers. They may also come from observing movements of history around us or the apparent success of the ungodly. In each case our theology of God’s dominion over the universe is challenged, and with devastating results.
The Asaphite who wrote Psalm 73 also experienced these kinds of challenges. He questioned the sovereign love of God as he watched the successes of the ungodly. The more he watched them, the greater became their prosperity and the larger his own predicament. He shared what saved him from abandoning his faith in verse 17: “I entered the sanctuary of God, then I understood their final destiny.” In God’s sanctuary he discovered God’s presence (“I am always with you, you hold me by my right hand,” 73:23) and God’s sovereignty (“You guide me with your counsel,” 73:24), and he was able to declare: “But as for me, it is good to be near God. I have made the Sovereign LORD my refuge” (73:28).
In a sense Zechariah’s initial vision is a journey into the sanctuary. The heavenly curtain is pulled back, and the prophet and people are reminded that the Lord is in full control even when they do not sense it. This reminds me of C. S. Lewis’s famous Screwtape Letters. In one letter the nephew demon is rejoicing in the fact that his Christian charge has begun to have doubts in his prayers to God (“our Enemy”). Uncle Screwtape reprimands his foolish nephew, Wormwood, with these words:
Do not be deceived, Wormwood. Our cause is never more in danger than when a human, no longer desiring, but still intending, to do our Enemy’s will, looks round upon a universe from which every trace of Him seems to have vanished, and asks why he has been forsaken, and still obeys.26
Faith in God’s sovereignty is essential to the walk of faithfulness as we await the return of Christ. The words of the apostles in Acts powerfully express such faith for us as Christians. Fresh from persecution they “raised their voices together in prayer to God” and began with the simple cry: “Sovereign Lord” (Acts 4:23–30). May that also be our cry as the people of God.
The people’s access. With the curtain pulled back, some may be surprised at the candor of the dialogue. The question of the angel of the Lord gets directly to the point: “How long will you withhold mercy?” (Zech. 1:12). This is reminiscent of the laments in the Psalter, where we regularly hear such open declarations that almost sound like challenges to the sovereignty we have just finished highlighting. But the witness of the psalms shows us that God is open to hear our cries. Christ declared the appropriateness of such expressions with his cry on the cross, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mark 15:34), an act that is clearly not sinful or an evidence of faithlessness (Heb. 5:7–8; cf. 4:14–16).27 We are invited as Christians not only to replicate Christ’s example in his suffering (1 Peter 2:21–25) but also to express our suffering to God (James 5:13).
Willem VanGemeren has expressed this in his statement: “True faith is not an apathetic acceptance of whatever comes to pass.”28 In similar fashion we are encouraged by the sensitive treatise of John Calvin:
Now among the Christians there are also new Stoics, who count it depraved not only to groan and weep but also to be sad and care ridden. These paradoxes proceed, for the most part, from idle men, who, exercising themselves more in speculation than in action, can do nothing but invent such paradoxes for us. Yet we have nothing to do with this iron philosophy which our Lord and Master has condemned not only by his word, but also by his example. For he groaned and wept both over his own and others’ misfortunes. And he taught his disciples in the same way: “The world,” he says, “will rejoice; but you will be sorrowful and will weep” [John 16:20 p.]. And that no one might turn it into a vice, he openly proclaimed, “Blessed are those who mourn” [Matt. 5:4]. No wonder! For if all weeping is condemned, what shall we judge concerning the Lord himself, from whose body tears of blood trickled down [Luke 22:44]? If all fear is branded as unbelief, how shall we account for that dread with which, we read, he was heavily stricken [Matt. 26:37; Mark 14:33]? If all sadness displeases us, how will it please us that he confesses his soul “sorrowful even to death” [Matt. 26:38]?29
In more recent times, Walter Brueggemann has noted the “costly loss of lament” from the functioning canon of the church, that is, from our worship expressions.30 Brueggemann voices his concern that by participating exclusively in “history-stifling praise,” we can encourage psychological inauthenticity in our people’s relationship with God. Such inauthenticity can foster conditions conducive to hypocrisy as we seek to praise with no recourse to lament.
The angelic mediator in Zechariah 1:7–17 presents the pained voice of the community awaiting God’s redemption. The sovereign God listens to his people, hears them in their pain, and responds in grace. The first vision encourages us to speak to our God, especially in the midst of our suffering, crying for his grace.
God’s zealous passion. The candor we have observed is the first surprise to the typical depiction of the “sovereign LORD.” We have often viewed this doctrine via the image of the English schoolmaster stripped of emotion and do not expect such nonsense to be tolerated in the Lord’s presence. But a second surprise is in store: The sovereign Lord is the God of passion. In response to the angel’s question the Lord speaks “kind and comforting words.” These words are then relayed to the prophet in 1:14–15, and they are words of passion: extreme anger with the nations and intense zeal for his people.
We are accustomed to the first emotion, anger, from the biblical witness. We remember well the wrath of God expressed throughout the prophets, warning the people to return to him in covenant fidelity. But we must not forget the passionate love of God for his people, a feature expressed vividly in the book of Hosea. He is the God who cared for Israel as a father cares for his son (Hos. 11:1–5) and as a husband for his wife (chs. 1–3). Listen to God’s heart in 11:8:
How can I give you up, Ephraim?
How can I hand you over, Israel?
How can I treat you like Admah?
How can I make you like Zeboiim?
My heart is changed within me;
all my compassion is aroused.
Zechariah 1:7–17 does not ignore the reality of past judgment brought on by the sin of the people (“I was only a little angry,” v. 15), but it reveals that the Exile was designed as discipline and that God’s passion for his people never abated. He loves them with an everlasting love.
On one level Jesus brought a full end to the discipline of the Exile as God poured out his zealous wrath for the sins of humanity on his own Son. God passionately pursues us in Christ with his love, mercy, and kindness. On another level, as we await the death of sin at Christ’s second coming, God continues to bring discipline into our lives. It is not easy when God brings such difficulties into our lives, whether acts of discipline or not, to sustain confidence in his mercy. But such discipline is truly an expression of his love and mercy in our lives (Heb. 12:1–11), even if we cannot identify the reason for such experiences. Zechariah 1:7–17 reminds us of the ultimate goal of all discipline—deepened and purified relationship with our covenant Lord.
God’s comforting and prosperous presence. This ultimate goal is identified in the final section of Zech. 1:7–17 where God promises his presence among his people. In the prophetic sermon that set up this night vision (1:1–6), God called his people into a reciprocal relationship of intimacy: “Return to me . . . that I may return to you.” The return he demands of his people is clearly a return to covenant faithfulness, following his “words” and “decrees” (1:5). Such a return will result in a mutual return of God to them.
The New Testament makes it clear that God’s presence was ultimately communicated to his people in redemptive history through his Son, Jesus Christ, in whom “all his fullness” dwelt (Col. 1:19; 2:9). Near the end of his earthly ministry Jesus promised his continued presence with his people as they gathered together (Matt. 28:20) and as they made disciples among the nations (28:18–20; cf. Acts 18:10). This continued presence stands out more clearly in Christ’s teaching in John 14–16. There he reveals that he has communicated the presence of the Father to them (14:8–14). But he also speaks of “another Counselor,” who will continue the presence of Christ among them (14:16, 26; 15:26; 16:7). When Jesus tells them in 14:17, “you know him, for he lives with you and will be in you,” he is referring to the Holy Spirit’s role in their lives.
(1) The presence of God is, first of all, a comforting presence. Although it is true that many prophetic messages in the Old Testament warn of impending judgment and call for repentance (cf. Zech. 1:1–6), one should not miss the other “tone” of the prophetic voice: comfort and assurance. Isaiah 40:1–2 sets such a tone for the second part of the book of Isaiah:
Comfort, comfort my people,
says your God.
Speak tenderly to Jerusalem,
and proclaim to her
that her hard service has been completed,
that her sin has been paid for,
that she has received from the LORD’s hand
double for all her sins.
Zechariah 1:7–17 links comfort and choice. As we have noted above, the election of Jerusalem is consistently linked to God’s habitation of Zion. God’s promised return with his presence is indeed comforting words for this community. Ezekiel observed the glory of God abandoning the city and people (Ezek. 10) and prophesied a return to a rebuilt temple (ch. 43). Zechariah now delivers the news from God that the time has now come for a return of his presence.
God offers comfort to us on this side of the cross in redemptive history. He has entered our world through Jesus, who communicates his presence to those who receive him and are called the children of God. The Spirit, that other Counselor, continues to communicate Christ’s presence to the church. This is why we assemble together as a community, desirous to experience that presence and communicate it to one another. As we walk through difficulties communally and individually, God’s presence in the community of faith, the new temple of God, offers us comfort.
One regular practice in the church that I attend offers a visible expression of such comfort for those walking through painful difficulties in their lives. My pastor asks for those who have a need or are facing a difficult situation to stand up in their place. They are assured that they will not have to go forward or say anything but merely stand there as those in the immediate area place a hand of comfort on their shoulder. The pastor then prays for these people and their needs. Although a simple and short exercise within the flow of our service, this is the kind of liturgical rhythm that communicates that this community gathers together for comfort.
So also as we walk through daily life as Christians, the communities in which we live need to see us as people of comfort. A young man whom I mentored as a teen now pastors in a small farming community in Saskatchewan, Canada. Recently I received a phone call from the local constable of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police in that community. The police officer was doing a background check on my friend so that he could function as a counselor within the victim impact program for the region. Of course, I vouched for my friend, giving him a glowing recommendation. The policeman, who was not a believer, shared that he was not surprised at my recommendation. He told me that the previous week a family had lost their teen in a tragic suicide and that my friend, having heard the news, had walked through this tragedy with this family, even though they were not members of his church. The talk in the coffee shops of that small town was all about the new pastor in town who had offered comfort to a hurting family.
(2) According to Zech. 1:7–17, the presence of God is also a prosperous presence, for where God’s presence is, we are told, “my towns will again overflow with prosperity.” As we argued in our discussion of Haggai’s prophecies (see esp. Hag. 1:1–11; 2:10–19), this theme of prosperity need not be “spiritualized” as we come into the new covenant era of redemptive history. God does continue to promise to care for our physical needs and bless us in physical ways (cf. Matt. 6:28–34; 19:29; Mark 10:29–30). But certainly we can rejoice in the inner and relational prosperity we have received through the Spirit’s presence in our lives and communities.
We are often reticent to ask God for his prosperous care of our needs. But as individuals and communities who live by faith, we are encouraged by God’s promises of such care as we seek first his kingdom. Often we do not receive because we are too afraid to ask God.