THEN I LOOKED up—and there before me were four horns! 19I asked the angel who was speaking to me, “What are these?”
He answered me, “These are the horns that scattered Judah, Israel and Jerusalem.”
20Then the LORD showed me four craftsmen. 21I asked, “What are these coming to do?”
He answered, “These are the horns that scattered Judah so that no one could raise his head, but the craftsmen have come to terrify them and throw down these horns of the nations who lifted up their horns against the land of Judah to scatter its people.”
Original Meaning
WITH THE PROCLAMATION of Yahweh still ringing in their ears, one that offered hope to Israel and warning to her enemies, the reader now enters a second visionary scene. This vision is clearly distinguished from the former by the oracle of 1:14–17, yet it is closely related to the previous one as it describes the first stage in the fulfillment of the first vision.
The historical context that lies behind this vision is the same as the one identified for the first vision (see comments on 1:7). As we argued in our introduction to 1:7–17, it was in the early phase of Darius’s reign that the Babylonians received significant punishment from the Persians for their support of Gaumata and rebellion against Darius. This is signified in the present vision by the horns (Babylonians) disciplined by the ploughmen (Persians).1
Detailed Analysis
THE VISION BEGINS with a phrase that marks the starting point of several of the other visions in Zechariah 1–6: “Then I looked up—and there before me were . . .” (cf. 2:1; 5:1; 6:1). As Zechariah moves into this new scene, he leaves behind the many characters from the first vision and finds himself alone with the “angel who was speaking to me.” This angel will remain a constant companion in Zechariah’s otherworldly journey, appearing in most of the eight visions and apparently acting as a tour guide for the bewildered prophet.
In this second vision, Zechariah sees four horns and what are often identified as four craftsmen. Although one of the shorter visions in the series, 1:18–21 has given rise to much controversy both as to its basic imagery and its meaning. The image of the horn is related to one of three contexts. (1) The most common context is that of the animal world, where an animal’s horn is a source of offensive and defensive power. This is used consistently for the power of a nation, usually with a view to its military ability (cf. Deut. 33:17; 1 Sam. 2:10; Ps. 18:2; 75:10; Jer. 48:25; Mic. 4:13). In the apocalyptic material of the book of Daniel (Dan. 7–8), the horn represents the military power of the nations. For some interpreters these horns are independent of any animal, while for others animals are assumed in the vision.
(2) The second context is that of clothing, in which horns are attached to a helmet. In this view the image is similar to that of the animal context above, but the introduction of a helmet smoothes out the tension between the horns and the later reference to craftsmen. Craftsmen do not usually work with horns, but they could work with some kind of a helmet.
(3) The final context is the temple. Some interpreters associate the horns with the four-horned altars found within temples in Palestine. This fits well with the period in which parts of Zechariah are dated, during which temple construction was underway, while providing a link between the horns and the craftsmen who appear in the vision.
This third suggestion must be dismissed immediately. It is difficult to ascertain how “horns” that scatter Judah and are related to foreign nations can somehow be connected to the horns of an altar. The second suggestion (horned helmet) is a possibility, but it appears necessary only because there is confusion over how the “craftsmen” relate to the “horns” in the vision. The suggestion of animal horns is the most natural, though it does appear to create tension with the image of “craftsmen.” In order to understand the horns, we must then examine “the craftsmen.”
The Hebrew word underlying the term “craftsmen” (ḥarašim) is a general word for artisans who work with some kind of material, such as wood, metal, or stone (cf. Isa. 3:3; Hos. 13:2). It falls within the semantic range of the Hebrew verb that uses the same consonants (ḥrš) and means “to cut, engrave.” These same consonants, however, are used for a second root in Hebrew (homonym), which appears elsewhere in its verbal form and means “to plow” (Ps. 129:3; Isa. 28:24; Amos 9:13). Using this second verb, we can translate the term used in Zechariah 1:20 as “plowmen.” This meaning connects much better with the image of a horn and, of course, the animals (either goats or bulls) connected with these horns.
Furthermore, the term “to terrify” (ḥrd) in 1:21 is used elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible in connection with animals to speak of “driving off” a group of animals (see Isa. 17:2; cf. also Deut. 28:26; Jer. 7:33). Finally, the verb “throw down” (ydh) in 1:21 has often been difficult for translators, because there are only two other places where this Hebrew verb has the same sense. In Jeremiah 50:14 it refers to shooting arrows at an enemy (Babylon!), and in Lamentations 3:53 the object of the verb is “stones,” which are obviously thrown.2 Thus, the scene we find here in Zechariah 1:18–21 is one in which two large animals with four horns are being driven away.
The angel tells Zechariah that these horns are those that have “scattered Judah, Israel and Jerusalem.” As already mentioned, the horn is a common image for the military might of a nation, and the connection to the nations is made explicit in the interpretation of 1:21. Because the list includes both Judah and Israel, it reviews the history of both northern and southern kingdoms, against whom two great empires, Assyria and Babylon, applied their military strength.3 The use of the verb “scattered” is appropriate to the agricultural image of this vision (cf. Isa. 30:24). It regularly refers to the exile of the Jews, both with explicit reference to agricultural imagery (e.g., Isa. 41:15; Jer. 15:7; 31:10) as well as without (Lev. 26:33; 1 Kings 14:15; cf. Jer. 49:32, 36).
The devastation of the exilic experience for both nations is summed up in Zech. 1:21 in the Hebrew idiom “a man could not raise his head” (loʾ naśaʾ roʾšo). In the negative form it is used for loss of freedom, and in the positive for regaining of independence. One can see the positive expression in Genesis 40:20–21 and Jeremiah 52:31, where officials are released from prison (Pharaoh’s butler, King Jehoiachin). In military contexts it can be used in the positive form, meaning a person is able to engage in battle (Ps. 83:2), or in the negative, meaning a person is defeated (Judg. 8:28). Here in Zechariah 1:21 the verb “raise” (nśʾ ) is used for the action of the nations (lit., “who raised a horn against the land of Judah to scatter it”) and of the resulting condition of the Jews (“which scattered Judah so that no one could raise his head”).
It is almost universally agreed that the plowmen must be representing Persia in this context. The significance of the number four is difficult to discern. “Four” is used to speak of completeness (the “four winds of heaven,” Zech. 2:6; 6:5), related to the four directions (north, south, east, west). But in this case, it may merely be matching the “four horns” with “four” plowmen, meaning that they are powerful enough to drive away the four horns.
In this second vision Zechariah sees a scene that offers hope to his community. The nations that have scattered Israel will be driven back to their places, powerless to abuse the Jewish community any longer. The Assyrians and Babylonians will no longer hold power over the Jews because the Persians have arisen as a benevolent servant in the hands of Yahweh.
This vision is closely related, then, with the first (Zech. 1:7–17). In that initial vision the angel of the Lord lamented the peaceful conditions of the cosmos and the apparent lack of action by Yahweh to punish the nations who had abused the Jewish community beyond Yahweh’s desire (1:12–15). Nothing was said there about the punishment of those nations. Instead, the message focused on God’s first priority: to return to Jerusalem, rebuild her, and bring prosperity. This second vision, then, offers a revelation of what must precede this rebuilding project: the smashing of the power of the nations. Zechariah is also shown God’s passion for his people, expressed in his punishment of Babylon. This provides both comfort and hope to a discouraged people.
Bridging Contexts
IMAGE AND REALITY. Our interpretation of Zech. 1:18–21 has demonstrated the skills that were encouraged in our introduction to Hebrew visionary literature in 1:7–17 (see Bridging Contexts section). We have examined each of the images in their ancient contexts as well as in their present literary context, identifying the role the images (including the numbers) play in the overall message of the vision as a whole. We did not put great focus on the number of horns and plowmen, but rather saw the number of horns as typifying the two kingdoms (two animals with two horns each) that had scattered Israel and Judah (Babylon and Assyria) and the number of plowmen as signifying nothing more than a force adequate for terrifying the animals.
This image would not have been odd to the prophet; rather, he would have understood it readily in an agrarian society. It also signifies important events in the contemporary experience of his community. As we transition now to application, we must ask how this image and its meaning within this ancient community has enduring significance for those of faith today.
Faith and response. Zechariah 1:18–21 must be interpreted in the larger context of the vision series to which it belongs. It continues God’s response to the cry of the angel (“How long?”) in the initial vision in the chapter, promising God’s punishment of the nations that have mistreated his people.
It is difficult to put ourselves in the shoes of a generation that lived its entire life under foreign domination. For not ten, not twenty, but for fifty to seventy years Jews lived under foreign rule, whether they remained in their land or were in exile in Mesopotamia. For most people this was the only existence they had ever known, yet their religious traditions were a constant reminder that this was only temporary and that God had promised them peaceful existence in their own land.
This contrast between faith and reality would have elicited various responses. Some would have felt discouragement, awaiting salvation and yet never experiencing it. Some would have felt anger, anger at God for abandoning them and anger at their enemies for abusing them—an anger that may have tempted them to action in order to usher in a new kingdom. To these kinds of people comes Zechariah’s vision of hope, encouraging a demoralized community to trust the God of redemptive history.
Such responses to the collision of faith and reality endured among the Jewish community in the centuries that followed as they read and reread the visions of Zechariah. The New Testament reflects these responses and proclaims Jesus as the One who will ultimately deliver his people from their dilemma, yet in ways that are not expected. But his renewed community, the church, also finds comfort in the ancient promises of Zechariah, as we live in hope of the full realization of restoration. In this way, we can appropriate the comfort of this ancient message as the penitent community of God.
Contemporary Significance
HELPLESSNESS—POSTURE FOR GRACE. As one who grew up in Canada, I know well the feeling of helplessness on the world stage. Although Canadians have enjoyed the many benefits of Western society, their population is but thirty million and their armed forces are among the smallest, used almost exclusively for peacekeeping across the globe. It is true that Canadian leaders are invited to Washington regularly and contribute at the G8 summits, but in the end their voice and economy are no match for those of larger members.
This feeling of helplessness, however, is shallow compared to the depth of helplessness felt by the Jews of old. This was a nation that had lost everything (freedom, land, temple, leadership) to the great Mesopotamian powers and their military and economic might. There is no question that such helplessness is not the ultimate goal in biblical expectation, but it is fascinating how often the condition of helplessness is preparatory for grace throughout redemptive history.
At the outset of Israel’s history we watch Abraham and his family wandering around Canaan in weakness with the promise of God’s provision of the land (Genesis). Joseph goes from the place of privilege as the favored son in Canaan to the depth of helplessness in Egypt (Gen. 37–50). The Israelites experience oppressive slavery in Egypt (Ex. 1–12), Naomi loses all in Moab (Ruth), and David flees from Saul in the desert of Judah (1 Sam. 19–31). Each of these stories in which God brings miraculous salvation begins with the main characters mired in hopeless circumstances.
On the flip side, it is interesting how those with great resources either are disqualified from service or lose them prior to success. Moses, with all the resources of Egypt, must go to the desert before he returns to lead his people (Ex. 2–4). Gideon, with a sizable military force, is stripped of all but three hundred men to fight the Midianites (Judg. 6–7). Saul has the physical stature of a great warrior but ultimately does not fulfill God’s mandate (1 Sam. 8–16). Solomon has the wisdom of a great leader, but his great resources lead him into sin, resulting in the fracturing of the nation (1 Kings 1–11).
The ultimate symbol of this principle is the Incarnation. Christ came in a helpless state and conquers through the helplessness of the cross. This is not only the basis for our vulnerable walk of faith, but it is an example to those who take up their cross and follow him. The weak things of the world conquer, not because of their weakness but because of the necessity for faith. Helplessness forces the believer to trust in the only One who can rescue them from their predicament.
I remember how clearly my wife and I sensed that God had called us to go to England to pursue my doctoral studies. However, one year into the experience we were coming to the end of our financial resources. My wife began to search for work, and each night we cried to God to provide for our needs. There we were in a foreign land without the necessary resources. We felt a depth of helplessness that we had never experienced before, and it was in such a state that we cried to God to care for us, to provide for our needs. Finding no success for employment as a teacher (the field in which she had two degrees), she applied to do data entry for a dictionary project at the university press.
At first this did not seem to be the miracle we had prayed for as I cared for my beloved children while writing my dissertation and learning German. But within three months she became the first employee in the project to perform her work at home, a privilege that continued for the rest of our time in England (and even for five years after that while living in Canada). Such a condition of helplessness forced us into the hands of our sovereign God of grace.
Unthinkable—opportunity for miracle. We must put ourselves once again into the shoes of those who first heard this vision. Most of them had lived through the turmoil of the demise of the Babylonian and the rise of the Persian empire. They had heard the prophecies of hope in Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel, which reminded them that God would ultimately rescue them, but in the darkness of the Exile such promises would have seemed a fantasy.
In the waning days of their empire, the Babylonians still held ultimate power over their subject nations. Truly Babylon’s fall and punishment would have been unthinkable from the perspective of those controlled by the oppressive regime. When Cyrus defeated the Babylonians and took the reins of power, the Babylonians seemed to have been spared the kind of punishment they deserved, and months turned into years and years into decades. Again it appeared as if they had escaped God’s vengeance and that this prophetic warning would come to nought. Yet this vision challenges the faith of the believing community, reminding them that God is the God of the impossible, even the unthinkable.
When we face insurmountable odds in our lives, God challenges us to turn to him in faith, who is able to transcend anything and everything we could ask or imagine (Eph. 3:20–21). Church history is filled with stories of God surprising his people, confirming his enduring commitment to redeem his creation.
One powerful example of this principle is George Müller.4 A former drunk and thief who had been saved by God’s grace, Müller moved from his native Germany to England to prepare for missionary service. But he ended up pastoring a congregation in Bristol, England. While reading a biography of A. H. Francke, a leader among the German Pietists, he discovered that this godly man had spearheaded a ministry to orphans in Halle (where Müller had gone to university). What caught Müller’s eye in this biography was Francke’s trust in God for all his needs, and so Müller began an orphanage based on the same principles. He never asked anyone for funds, but looked to God to provide for the needs of the thousands of orphans he nurtured in his orphanages. God answered the prayers of this man and his staff. God was indeed the God of the unthinkable, the Lord of the impossible.
Judgment—vengeance is God’s. While this passage does stimulate hope in the midst of helplessness, its message is a sober one for God’s enemies. One cannot ignore the fact that this is a vision of judgment. God does hold humanity accountable for their abuse of his people. This was true of the nation exiled for their abuse of their fellow citizens (1:15, “little angry”), but it was also true of the exiling nations who “added to the calamity” (Zech. 1:15). The judgment of 1:18–21 is the outward expression of God’s passion articulated in the first vision. That passion spells comfort for his people (1:13) but anger for his enemies (1:15). The one cannot be realized without the other. Although only God has the right to enact such judgment on the nations, ultimately his judgment is necessary in order to redeem his creation from sin.
It is easy in a culture of toleration to avoid discussions of God’s judgment, to accentuate his love, and to hide his discipline. But this is irresponsible for a community commissioned with revealing God in this world. Certainly at times many within church history have focused more attention on God’s wrath, but the response to this should not be to abandon this biblical theme; instead, we should foster a balance between his love and wrath as evidenced in Scripture, demonstrated on the cross, and expected in the eschaton.
God’s judgment does offer comfort to those who live under the oppression of the nations, even in our world today. Each year my local church focuses attention on those Christians who are undergoing suffering around the globe. On the “International Day of Prayer for the Persecuted Church” we cannot escape the reality that the majority of our Christian sisters and brothers in this world follow Christ at the threat of their very lives.5 Although we pray for the salvation of the wicked, God’s promised justice does afford his people hope as they endure suffering and hardship at the hands of the wicked people even to this day. This theology of justice should inform our prayers for the persecuted church as we join in solidarity with them not only on one Sunday during the year, but also each time we gather together.