And when the builders laid the foundation of the temple of Jehovah, they set the priests in their apparel, with trumpets, and the Levites the sons of Asaph, with cymbals, to praise Jehovah according to the directions of David king of Israel.
A small group of exiles has come back from Babylon to rebuild, and as the foundation stones go down their first act is praise. So who decides how that praise is done?
They had already built the altar and offered sacrifices before laying a single stone of the house. One writer weighs the two acts.
It was good to build and use the altar without delay in faith. It was better to lay the foundation than to settle for that informal but acceptable and right beginning. No doubt circumstances were unusual. The Persian king held civil authority over them. Most of the people were living among the Gentiles. A new difficulty came from Gentiles brought into the land who copied Jewish forms. Yet nothing should turn faith aside from carrying out the truth — humbly, and without show.
The altar had a written rule behind it. So did the singing.
It was a day of great joy and gladness. For directions about the altar, the sacrifices, and the feasts, they had gone back to the word, "as it is written in the Law of Moses the man of God." In the same way they turn to "the directions of David king of Israel" for guidance in their service of praise.
Their weakness did not lower the standard:
The children of Israel who gathered that day on Mount Moriah were few and weak. Even so, they were careful and exact in obeying the Word. They were doing the Lord's work, and they saw clearly that human thoughts and human wisdom had no place in it. The Lord and the Lord alone must set the pattern for His house.
Each instrument belonged to a particular set of hands.
Three groups stand out in this joyful celebration. There were the priests in their robes with trumpets, and the sons of Asaph with cymbals. Beyond these were the people, who answered the praise they heard with a great shout, because the foundation of the house of the Lord was laid. Only priests were allowed to blow the sacred trumpets. It takes being in the holy place, in the presence of God, in communion with His mind, to know when to sound the notes of testimony and praise. In the same way, only the sons of Asaph — Levites, under the king's order — could use the sacred cymbals.
What they sang was not new.
It has been said, and it is worth recalling, that "a remnant has the brightest features of the original." This is true. We see an example of it when the returned remnant of Israel from Babylon laid the foundation of the temple of the Lord... Then there reappeared the best features of Israel's brightest days. It was the same high note of praise that sounded out when the glory of the Lord filled the temple in Solomon's day.
The house was far from finished. The day still counted.
Everything was not yet accomplished, but they had recognised the basis of truth. That is a reminder of 2 Timothy 2:19, "God's firm foundation stands." When people have departed from the truth, and God stirs His people to return to Him, it is a vital encouragement to be reminded that God's firm foundation stands.
Commentators differ on how to read the day. One writer looks at what came next.
Conduct may go beyond faith. If it does, it will break down. Right conduct on a wrong motive must fail. In Ezra 3 we have the Jews working for God, and that from the written word... But they failed. The adversaries of Judah came and stopped the work. Looking at the outward form, we should have said, "Now here is obedience." But God's eye saw through it all... The cause of failure was not in the adversaries of Judah, but in the hearts of the people.
- Foundation. Building the altar was right. Laying the foundation was better. Faith carries the truth further, even when circumstances are hard.
- Written. Written directions shaped both the altar and the singing — Moses for one, David for the other.
- Ordered. Priests had the trumpets, the sons of Asaph the cymbals, the people the shout. Each part belonged to particular hands.
- Recovered. A small group sang the note of Solomon's best days. A remnant can carry the brightest features of the original.
- Tested. Correct outward obedience is not the same as faith. The work stopped because of the people's hearts, not because of their enemies.
And they sang alternately together in praising and giving thanks to Jehovah For he is good, for his loving-kindness [endureth] for ever toward Israel. And all the people shouted with a great shout to the praise of Jehovah, because the foundation of the house of Jehovah was laid.
The exiles back from Babylon have laid the foundation of a second temple. Their first response is a song — the same words Israel had sung in its greatest days. (Where these writers quote "mercy," the ESV reads "steadfast love.")
The celebration was not spontaneous noise. It followed a pattern already given, and each group had its own part.
This joyful celebration marks out three groups. There were the priests in their robes with trumpets, and the sons of Asaph with cymbals. Outside of these were the people. They answered the praise they heard with a great shout, because the foundation of the house of the Lord was laid. Only priests could blow the sacred trumpets (see Num. 10). To discern when to sound the notes of testimony and praise, you have to be in the holy place, in the presence of God, in communion with His mind. So, in this arrangement, they sang responsively, praising and giving thanks to the Lord.
The same care that shaped the altar and the sacrifices shaped the singing on Mount Moriah, the temple hill.
The children of Israel who gathered that day on Mount Moriah were few and feeble. Even so, they were exact in their obedience to the Word. They were engaged on the Lord's work, and they saw clearly that human thoughts and human wisdom had no place in it. The Lord and the Lord alone must prescribe the method of His house.
They could have sung about their own journey and sacrifice. They sang about God's mercy instead.
Psalm 136 says of God twenty-six times that "His mercy endures for ever." They now acknowledged this about themselves, as those who stood for Israel. It was the confession that no merit on their side had led to the revival in which they had part. It was all on the ground of God's mercy. Every revival God has granted in the sad history of Christendom has rested on the mercy of God, with no merit on our side. Let us never forget this.
These words were not new. They form a thread running from the height of the kingdom, through this day of weakness, and on to a day still ahead.
David in his day, and the whole congregation with him, proclaimed it. Solomon, with the people in unison, years later echoed it again. The returned remnant, in all their weakness, gave expression to it when the foundations of the Temple were laid once more. One day, in full chorus, the people of Israel, returned and delivered at last, will confirm it. Language that suited them nearly three thousand years ago will suit Israel for ever.
A handful of returned exiles could have sung of mercy toward themselves. Instead they named the whole nation.
Their inward joy rises up toward its blessed source as they sing, "For His mercy endures for ever" (Ezra 3:11). Then unselfish faith adds, "toward Israel." Such faith does not limit God in His gracious dealings. It loves to count on His faithfulness toward everyone inside the relationship He has revealed.
Earlier in the chapter they set up the altar; now the foundation is laid. One writer sees Christ in both.
In the midst of the most complete ruin, two things remain unchanged: the work of Christ and His person. Christ is the altar and Christ is the foundation. Christ is our salvation, and Christ is the One on whom we are built forever. Christ is the object of worship and of the unceasing praise of His own. We pass through dark times. Humiliation and deserved reproach are our lot. Even so, we can sing the hymn of the future, for He has not changed. Here we see a small returned group singing the song of the glory still to come, in the midst of the desolation of their history and among the ruins of Jerusalem.
Their own failure had brought the first house down.
Now they had come to a time of reviving. They discovered that God was faithful though they had failed. In a mighty song of triumph they celebrated that "the Lord is good and His mercy endures for ever." What a consolation this was to them; what a comfort and joy it is to us.
- Cause — mercy. The song credits nothing to the builders. Commentators read it as their confession: no merit of theirs produced the revival. Every recovery God grants rests on the same ground.
- Gift — a pattern. Praise followed David's ordinance, with priests, Levites and people each in place. A feeble company still held that the Lord alone prescribes the method of His house.
- Anchor — what never changed. Altar and foundation stood while everything else lay in ruins. One writer sees in them Christ's work and Christ's person. Praise survives the wreckage.
- Reach — "toward Israel." A small returned group sang not for itself but for the whole nation. It counted on God's faithfulness to everyone inside the relationship He has revealed.
- Result — one unbroken song. The same words ran from David to Solomon to these exiles. Writers look for Israel to sing them again in full chorus. Mercy that endures forever needs no new song.
But many of the priests and Levites and chief fathers, the ancient men that had seen the first house, wept with a loud voice, [when] the foundation of this house was laid in their sight; and many shouted aloud for joy.
One foundation drew two sounds from one crowd: loud weeping from men who remembered the first temple, and shouts of joy from the rest. Why the difference, and which response was right?
The laying of the foundation split the crowd along the line of memory.
It caused tears in the older men. They felt how poor the present display of the Lord's glory was among them, compared with what they had once seen. It was a source of joy to the others. They had only known the complete collapse of the Lord's name on the earth. Now their hearts were glad that at least there was a clear and definite confession of that name, as a name with the right to gather His people together — even though they were only a remnant here below. They were both right; and yet how different the expression of their hearts was! Of the two, the older men surely did feel the joy of the foundation being laid. But their sense of sorrow and humiliation for His name outweighed it. So the older men had a more subdued feeling. Both groups were led by the Lord, but in very different measures. I am persuaded that, of the two, the older men had the deeper sense of God's glory.
But why were the men nearest to God the ones in tears?
Yet the old men wept, for they had seen the former house, built according to God's inspired direction. Sadly, we understand this. Anyone who now thinks of what the assembly of God was at the first will understand the tears of these old men. This suited nearness to God. Further off, it was right to hear joy, or at least the confused shout that only announced the public event. For in truth God had stepped in on behalf of His people.
Both cries went up to God at the same moment.
Who can doubt that both the tears and the gladness were equally acceptable to the Lord? Both may equally have been the fruit of His grace working in their hearts.
Do we see these tears as spoiling the day?
No, we do not. We see them as expressing another side of things, which should always be present when we are able to rejoice in some time of revival granted in the mercy of God. However blessed the revival, the memory of the beginning tempers our rejoicing. Grace and power marked those first days under the energy of the apostles, as the early chapters of the book of Acts show. We become aware how small and imperfect anything we may experience is, compared with that. It may not bring tears to our eyes, but it will have a very sobering effect on us, for our good.
Grief over failure still needs somewhere to go.
It is the failure that causes the tears, and we must not be indifferent to it. The truth will not make us indifferent to it — the more we know it, the more deeply we shall feel the failure. But it will not depress us, for we shall turn from it to the Lord, "because He is good, for His mercy endures forever."
What made a modest foundation worth celebrating was not its size but whose house it was.
The laying again of the temple's foundations made the people realise that though Israel had failed, God had not. His purposes and promises remained unchanged. They were a feeble band, and their work was as feeble as they were. Yet they now linked themselves with GOD, HIS PURPOSES, and HIS HOUSE. This is what we must do. Though they were only a remnant, they were able to take up sanctuary service to the Lord. They praised Him "after the ordinance of King David" — and David's day was the brightest hour of Israel's history.
- Memory divides. One foundation drew tears from men who remembered the first house, and cheers from those who never saw it.
- Nearness weeps. The tears suited nearness to God. Further off, the shout still announced that God had acted for His people.
- Both accepted. Tears and gladness were equally acceptable. Both could be the fruit of God's grace in the heart.
- Grief sobers, it does not sink. Seeing how small the present work is sobers us for good. Then faith turns from the failure to the Lord, whose mercy endures forever.
- Feeble hands, unchanged purpose. Israel had failed; God had not. A feeble remnant tied to His house could still worship with the joy of David's day.
And the people could not discern the noise of the shout of joy from the noise of the weeping of the people; for the people shouted with a great shout, and the noise was heard afar off.
The foundation of the new temple drew two sounds from one crowd at the same moment. They blended until no one could tell them apart. Why did one act of God produce shouting in some and loud weeping in others — and which response did God accept?
Memory split the crowd. Those who wept had seen the earlier temple. Those who shouted had known only its loss. What they had seen shaped what they felt.
Why so? It was the cause of tears to the older men. They felt how poor the present expression of the Lord's glory among them was, compared with what they had once seen. It was a source of joy to the others, because they had only known the utter collapse of the name of the Lord on the earth. Now their hearts were glad that at any rate there was a distinct and decided confession of that name as entitled to gather His people together, even though they were only a remnant here below. They were both right, yet how different the expression of their hearts!... I am persuaded that, of the two, the older men had the deeper sense of God's glory.
Both reactions told the truth about that day. Both were welcome to God.
Joy was in His presence and acceptable. Tears confessed the truth. They gave witness to a just sense of what God had been for His people, and of the blessing they had once enjoyed under His hand... and these tears were acceptable to Him. The weeping could not be distinguished from the shout of joy. This was a truthful result: natural and sad, yet fitting in the presence of God. For He rejoices in the joy of His people, and He understands their tears.
Look at who was crying. These were not the least spiritual people there.
Joy could well be unmixed in those who were still young and could not remember the past. They were present at a kind of resurrection of the people. In it they saw the marvellous intervention of the grace of God. Who would want to stop them rejoicing? But the priests, the Levites, and the chief fathers wept. They were in closer communion with God, so they were more conscious of the dishonour brought upon His name. And the old men wept because they had known better times.
God's estimate of the two sounds was not the same as the crowd's.
Even in that hour of loud joy over the foundation laid, the old men wept. They felt the ruin and its moral causes more. God saw and cherished the tears. Men were more alive to the joy that greeted the promising act of that day. Both bore witness that the Lord is good, and His mercy is for ever. That holds true whatever the failure of His people and His righteous notice of it.
The pattern did not end with that crowd.
We see those tears as expressing another side of things. That side should always be present when we are able to rejoice in a time of revival granted in the mercy of God. However blessed the revival, the memory of the grace and power that marked the beginning of things tempers our rejoicing... this, though it may not bring tears to our eyes, will have a very sobering effect upon us for our good.
What God heard that day, He looks for still.
This mixture of joy and loud weeping rose up before God. It was so blended that one could not tell one sound from the other, and "the sound was heard far away." In the same way, some today have at heart the building of the house of God and the laying again of its ruined foundations. Their attitude should show that a true humbling over their state cannot be separated from their joy. That joy comes from celebrating together the work and person of Christ, the only foundation of present and future blessing.
There is somewhere for the weeping to go.
It is the failure that causes the tears, and we must not be indifferent to it. The truth will not make us indifferent to it; the more we know it, the more deeply we shall feel the failure. But it will not depress us, for we shall turn from it to the Lord, "because He is good, for His mercy endures for ever."
- Ruin — the tears came from those who remembered better days and felt the ruin and its causes.
- Mercy — the shouting came from those who had known only ruin, and who saw the grace of God at work for His people.
- Both — neither sound cancelled the other. God rejoices in the joy of His people and understands their tears.
- Depth — both groups were right, yet one writer judges the older men had the deeper sense of God's glory.
- Today — hold humbling and gladness together, and turn from the failure to the Lord, whose mercy is for ever.