The Book of Haggai: Consider Your Ways

Introduction

Today’s Passage: An Overview of the Whole Book

You are about to walk through one of the shortest books in the whole Bible, a book you could read aloud in a quarter of an hour, and yet it lands with a weight far heavier than its length. Haggai was a prophet to a small and weary company of people who had come home from exile in Babylon. About the year 520 before Christ they were back in the land of their fathers, back in and around Jerusalem, but the great work they had returned to do had stalled. Some sixteen years earlier they had laid the foundation of a new temple for the LORD, and then the opposition of their neighbors, the hardness of the times, and the slow creep of discouragement had brought the building to a halt. The foundation sat there open to the weather, half a promise and half a rebuke, while the people turned to their own affairs. And here is the thing Haggai saw and would not let them not see: they had found the time and the timber to build themselves fine houses, paneled and finished, while the house of the LORD lay a ruin in their midst. Into that quiet scandal God sent this prophet with four short, dated messages, each one aimed at the same drowsy heart, each one carrying the same wake-up call: consider your ways.

As you read, hold this: To a people who had housed themselves well while the house of God lay in ruins, the LORD says, Consider your ways, take courage and build, for I am with you, and the glory of this latter house will be greater than the former.

The name and what it means

The prophet’s name in Hebrew is חַגַּי (chaggai), pronounced khag-GAI, and it comes from the word chag (Strong’s H2282), which means a feast or a festival, one of the appointed pilgrim celebrations of Israel. His very name means something like “festive” or “born on a feast day,” and it is a fitting name for the man God chose. For the whole burden of his ministry was to call a discouraged people back to the house where the feasts of the LORD were meant to be kept, back to the place of worship and gladness and the presence of God among His people. There is a gentle irony worth noticing here. A man named for the festival stands in a city where the festivals had grown thin and cold, where the courts of the LORD lay unfinished, and he calls the people to build the very house in which joy before God could be restored. His name is a small sermon in itself: the God of the feast has not forgotten you, so come and build, that the gladness may return.

The world of the book

To understand Haggai you have to picture the long road these people had traveled. Generations before, Judah had been carried off into exile in Babylon, and the temple that Solomon had built, the glory of the old kingdom, had been burned to the ground. Then the Persian king Cyrus conquered Babylon and, in the providence of God, issued a decree that the exiles could go home and rebuild the house of their God. A remnant returned under a governor named Zerubbabel, a descendant of David, and a high priest named Joshua the son of Jehozadak. They set up the altar, they laid the temple’s foundation with weeping and shouting, and then the work died. Adversaries discouraged them, an official order halted them, and the years went by. When Haggai steps onto the page, it is the second year of the Persian king Darius, and the foundation has lain untouched for the better part of a lifetime while the people have settled comfortably into their own homes.

The book is remarkable for how precisely it is dated. Four times Haggai tells us the very day the word of the LORD came to him, so that this little book reads almost like a dated journal of a few short months in the autumn and early winter of that year. In that brief span God stirred the whole community, from the governor and the high priest down to the last of the people, and the work that had been dead for sixteen years came back to life. It is a study in how a stalled people are moved again, not by scolding alone, but by a word that both convicts them and lifts them, that names their sin and then hands them a promise large enough to make the labor worth it.

The shape of the book

The one thread to carry

If you carry one thing through these two short chapters, carry the summons that gives the book its name and its whole reason for being. To a people who had let the house of God fall into ruin while they saw to their own comfort, the LORD does not first thunder; He invites them to stop and think.

Haggai 1:5 (BSB) — “Now this is what the LORD of Hosts says: “Consider carefully your ways.”

That is the question the book presses on every reader still: where, in the ordering of a life, has the house of God slipped down the list while lesser houses have been finished and furnished? Yet the call to build is never left hanging as mere duty, for God ties to it a promise far larger than the modest stones the returned exiles could lay. He looks past their small beginnings to a glory they could not yet imagine, a house filled with a peace the world cannot give.

Haggai 2:9 (BSB) — “The latter glory of this house will be greater than the former, says the LORD of Hosts. And in this place I will provide peace, declares the LORD of Hosts.””

Those who first heard it could not have known how completely it would come true, that into the courts of a rebuilt and later expanded temple would one day walk the Lord of the temple Himself, the Prince of Peace, so that the latter glory would surpass the former beyond all reckoning. And to that discouraged, half-hearted remnant, laboring at a work that felt too small to matter, God gave the promise that steadies every faithful worker still.

Haggai 2:4 (BSB) — “But now be strong, O Zerubbabel, declares the LORD. Be strong, O Joshua son of Jehozadak, the high priest. And be strong, all you people of the land, declares the LORD. Work! For I am with you, declares the LORD of Hosts.”

So read this small book knowing it is not small at all. It calls a sleepy people awake, it hands them a promise bigger than their ruins, and it seals it with the one word that makes any building worth the labor: I am with you. Learn the Word, consider your ways, and give thanks.