Different Houses

from June 2020

The Cross Road

by Jeff Pitts

“W ith praise and thanksgiving they sang to the Lord: ‘He is good; his love toward Israel endures forever.’ And all the people gave a great shout of praise to the Lord, because the foundation of the house of the Lord was laid. But many of the older priests and Levites and family heads, who had seen the former temple, wept aloud when they saw the foundation of this temple being laid, while many others shouted for joy” (Ezra 3:11-12).

In November of 2016, I was a grown man crying on the floor of his living room. I had witnessed the impossible. My beloved Chicago Cubs, after 108 years of futility and falling short, had finally achieved the impossible: winning the World Series. My eyes leaked tears of joy.

On that same night, at the same moment, somewhere near the beaches of South Florida, my father shed his own tears: tears of disbelief colliding with childhood joy that had been put on reserve throughout his entire life.

Same moment. Two hearts. Same reaction.

That is what befuddles me about the passage in Ezra. The event is the laying of the foundation of the temple in Jerusalem that had been destroyed. The reactions are of joy, shouting, and thanksgiving. Yet, at the very same moment, at the very same event, there was another set of people compiled of priests, Levites, and an older generation who had seen the previous temple, weeping aloud.

Same moment. Two hearts. Different reactions.

What one generation saw as a brand-new start to a renewed relationship with Yahweh, another generation saw as a fragment of what had been. What a younger generation saw as a reconciliation between God and His chosen people, another generation saw as something short of the former glory of what had been on display in Solomon’s temple.

Without much realization, one generation passes forward passion and belief. I am a Cubs fan because my dad took me to a game at 4 years old and I saw his passion. What was this generation passing forward to the next? Were they saying, “It would never be like it was”? Were they handing down disappointment in what God’s house had been compared to what it was becoming?

Despite the 2500 years’ difference between Ezra and the present day, I wonder if we face a similar conflict: one generation rejoicing, another generation weeping. One generation thankful for the house the Lord has built: another generation disappointed that it is not like it was.

The prophet Haggai, a contemporary of Ezra, handed down these words from the throne of Heaven:

“Who of you is left who saw this house in its former glory? How does it look to you now? Does it not seem to you like nothing? ‘The glory of this present house will be greater than the glory of the former house,’ says the Lord Almighty. ‘And in this place I will grant peace,’ declares the Lord Almighty’” (Haggai 2:3, 9).

Honestly, I feel like this is a word for the Church today. Quit looking back at the former house remembering how good it once was. On that cold November night, two men in two different spaces, from two different generations, cried over the same moment. There is a generation that needs you to cry with them, rejoice with them, celebrate with them, and sing with them. God’s glory did not leave with one generation; it is still in the house.