🧵 THREAD: ‘He makes all things beautiful in his time’
If you’re a quick reader, you might be able to finish before the song does!
The Bible frequently employs the image of a tree which yields its fruit in its time/season.
One place it does so is the outset of the book of Psalms.
The man who doesn’t fall into temptation, we’re told in Psalm 1, but meditates on God’s law, is like a fruitful tree.
Psalm 1’s use of different verbal forms is instructive.
The terms I’ll use to describe them aren’t quite right, but they’ll hopefully get the point across.
The verbal forms in the Psalm’s first two verses don’t refer to any particular point in time; they’re habitual.
They describe the general way of the righteous man:
what he doesn’t do (follow the wicked) and what he does do (meditates on God’s word).
With the word וְהָיָה (‘he will be’) in verse 3, the Psalmist turns his attention to the future.
To be precise, he describes the respective futures of the people described in verses 1 and 2.
Every subsequent verb in the Psalm thus has a future form (a yiqtol)...
...with the exception of its very last verb—‘God knows’ (יוֹדֵעַ)—, which is the Psalm’s only present tense verb.
The future hasn’t yet come to pass,
but, even *now*, God knows the respective futures of the righteous and the wicked.
The Psalm’s distinction between singulars and plurals is also instructive.
At the conclusion of the Psalm, a multitude of righteous people are gathered into God’s presence (צדיקים, a plural) (1.5–6).
Prior to that, however, the Psalm describes the walk of a single righteous man,
whose status is contrasted with that of the many wicked men whom he finds himself in the midst of.
The same distinction is implicit in Psalm 2.
The ‘nations’, ‘peoples’, and ‘kings of the earth’ gather together (plural) and plot against God’s Messiah (singular).
And the situation is made explicit in Psalm 3:
Psalm 1 thus finds its ultimate fulfilment in the Messiah—the only truly Righteous One—,
yet it finds a number of partial fulfilments in the Messiah’s predecessors.
Consider, by way of example, the life of Joseph.
Like the king of Psalm 2, many people plot against Joseph.
They don’t much care for his claims to greatness, and seek to cast his cords away from them.
Joseph, however, remains stedfast.
Although temptation comes day by day (יום יום: Gen. 39.10), he refuses to walk in the way of the wicked (1.1).
His daily delight is in the law of the LORD. (‘How can I sin against God!?’)
The short term consequences of Joseph’s obedience aren’t good. He’s thrown not only in a pit, but also in a prison for his troubles.
Yet God has a plan for Joseph’s life.
Joseph is destined to be ‘a fruitful bough’ (Gen. 49.24) and to bear fruit in his appointed season—‘choice fruit in summer (תְּבוּאֹת שָׁמֶשׁ)’ and ‘rich produce each month (גֶּרֶשׁ יְרָחִים)’ (Deut. 33.14).
And bear fruit Joseph does.
He is raised up from the pit;
he bears a son named Ephraim (אֶפְרָיִם) = ‘fruitful’;
and he’s even brought fruit by his long lost brothers (43.11).
Just as the man of Psalm ‘prospers in all he does’ (כל אשר יעשה יצליח), so Joseph prospers (אשר הוא עושה יהוה מצליח) (Gen. 39.23).
God’s chosen man is thus exalted (Psa. 2.6);
the nations kiss him (‘kiss the Son lest he be angry!’: Gen. 41.10, Psa. 2.12);
and, when a Pharaoh arises who doesn’t reverence Joseph, that Pharaoh soon perishes in his way (Exod. 1ff.).
With these things in mind, let’s move on to consider another text where things are said to come to fruition ‘in their time’.
In Ecclesiastes 3, there’s said to be a time for every activity under the sun:
a time to be born, and a time to die,
to weep and to laugh,
to mourn and to dance.
(I don’t personally make much use of the last of these times, but the issue is one of personal inability rather than theological conviction.)
At the end of the above list of activities, Solomon asks an important question:
Why bother (מָה־יִּתְרוֹן)?
What difference does any of it ultimately make?
Solomon’s asked that question before. In fact, it’s the very first question he asks in the book of Ecclesiastes.
Life is like a balance sheet.
One generation passes away and another one arises;
the wind blows southwards, and then it returns to the north again.
When you add up life’s activities at the end of the day, the net result is zero. Nothing ultimately makes any difference.
So why bother?
At first blush, Solomon’s list of activities in chapter 3 seems to be plagued by a similar futility.
On closer inspection, however, it’s not.
There’s a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance.
The tears don’t cancel out the laughter, and the laughter doesn’t cancel out the tears.
Likewise, the mourning doesn’t cancel out the dancing or the dancing the mourning.
Each is appropriate in its time.
At times, it’s good and right to weep and mourn, and at times it’s good and right to laugh and dance.
Similarly, at times it’s good to tear things down and at times it’s good to build things up.
And that’s what Solomon comes to see in 3.10:
‘God has made everything beautiful in its/his time’.
But at what ‘time’ exactly?
*When* will we come to see the beauty of all things?
In a nutshell, on the day of the resurrection.
The resurrection is the time when all of life will make sense,
and all of life will not make sense *until* that day.
We’ll no doubt enjoy glimpses of God’s big picture over the course of our lives—mini-resurrections, foreshadows of the *great* resurrection.
When Joseph was pulled out of the pit (בּוֹר) in the desert, he understood *some* of God’s purposes.
When he was pulled out of the dungeon (בּוֹר) in Egypt, he understood *more* of God’s purposes.
And when his bones were finally carried out of Egypt, millions of Jacob’s descendants saw what God had done in and through Joseph’s life and times:
—the time when Joseph had been born (as his father’s favourite) and the time when he’d been reckoned as dead,
—the time when he’d sought to carve out a future for himself in Egypt and the time when it looked like he’d lost it,
—the time when he and his father had wept and the times when they’d embraced.
The same was true of Jesus’ life.
The resurrection was the time when Jesus’ life finally started to make sense to his disciples:
—the time when his words were fulfilled and his silence before Pilate could be explained,
—the time when he was shown not to be a blasphemer, but the very Son of God,
—the time when he was no longer dismissed as the one who *should* have redeemed Israel, but the One who *would* redeem Israel (Luke 24).
And the same will be true in our case.
The resurrection will be the day when our lives finally make complete sense:
—when each body is assigned its own particular glory (1 Cor. 15),
—when we see why we’ve gone through what we’ve gone through,
—when our tears are wiped away, our sorrows are turned to joy, our tribulations are recompensed a thousand times over, and God makes all things beautiful in his good time.
In the absence of the resurrection, we’ve believed in vain and we’ll live in vain (1 Cor. 15.2, 14),
which is the very vanity described in Ecclesiastes 1.
And yet by God’s grace we’ve not believed in vain.
‘Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abundant in the work of the Lord, conscious that in the Lord your labour is not in vain’ (1 Cor. 15.58).
And so, while death rates remain largely decoupled from case rates--i.e., while the condition we were told would avoid the need for restrictions remains fulfilled--, the UK takes another step towards mandatory vaccination.
Apparently, mandatory vaccination is a ‘conversation’ we’ll soon need to have (like our past conversations about child vaccination).
And, all the while, not a single question with any force or penetrative power is asked by the mainstream media.
Life was much easier when we could dismiss people who talked about these kinds of things as ‘conspiracy theorists’,
but, sadly, Austria has now imposed a lockdown on everyone aged twelve and over (bbc.co.uk/news/world-eur…) who has *not* received a vaccine--a vaccine which...
...the Lancet says still allows Covid to be efficiently transmitted, albeit a third less efficiently than is the case with those who are unvaccinated (sciencedirect.com/science/articl…)...
...and which is said by researchers to increase teenage boys’ risk of vaccine-related heart problems more than it reduces their risk of Covid-related problems (theguardian.com/world/2021/sep…).
THREAD: The glory of God in thought, word, number, and deed.
The text of Exodus 3–15 recounts YHWH’s self-revelation to the people of Israel and his epochal victory over Pharaoh, the self-professed god of Egypt.
Its narrative makes use of three key words in order to emphasise its central themes.
[1.]
The first is the Hebrew word yad (יָד), which designates a person’s ‘hand’ or ‘arm’ and/or by extension their power.
At the outset of Exodus 3–15’s narrative, YHWH hears his people’s cry and comes down to deliver them from the ‘hand’ (yad) of the Egyptians (3.8, 14.30).