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BIBLE EXPLORATION: BOOK OF ZEPHANIAH
The Obvious
Zephaniah long ago slipped into obscurity. Few people know that it is the name of a biblical book. Even fewer have any clue what that book is about. And when people start reading the three-chapter treatise—well, let’s just say they’re grateful it’s only three chapters.
After Zephaniah gives us his genealogy—a list of men none of us know anything about—he then launches into what he calls, “The Word of the Lord.” To put it succinctly, the Lord is upset. I will utterly sweep away everything from the face of the earth, says the Lord. I will sweep away humans and animals. I will sweep away the birds of the air and the fish of the sea.
Reading on, we discover quickly what triggered this rage. God had chosen to make himself vulnerable to one group of people: Israel. And Israel betrayed him, broke his heart, made him crazy with anguish. Thus, nothing in the whole earth means anything to him anymore. It will all be wiped out in a frenzy of divine fury.
We discover that Israel didn’t betray God a mere one time. It continues to commit repeating offenses: idolatry, neglect, violence, fraud, disobedience of commandments, arrogance, and conviction that God is impotent.
After listing God’s grievances against Israel (called Judah by this time in history—about 650-600 B.C.) the prophet, speaking in the name of God, goes on a roll through the world map—as he knew the world. He has complaints against the outlying cities of Gaza, Ashkelon, Ashdod, and Ekron. He’s upset with the Cherethites, Canaanites, and Philistines. Moab and Ammon are on his hit list. So are the Ethiopians and the Assyrians—places at the far end of Zephaniah’s world. It’s all going to be destroyed. A dry waste like the desert. Herds shall lie down in it, every wild animal. The desert owl and the screech owl shall lodge on its capitals, the owl shall hoot at the window, the raven croak on the threshold…. You get the idea.
After attacking the rest of the known world, Zephaniah then doubles back to Judah—and spews out another round of woes. He is especially troubled by the government: kings, judges, state-sanctioned priests. They traffic in violence and have no shame. Then he fires a final verbal round at Ethiopia and the other nations.
Finally, after all this catharsis, if you’re still reading Zephaniah’s composition, you will discover that God decides to gather a few leftover and scattered Israelites together and start over. Of the 53 verses that constitute the book of Zephaniah, only the last 12 fit the category of “positive thinking.” The lectionary for the Second Sunday of Advent, Year C, prescribes seven of these verses—that if taken out of the context of the full essay, misses the point of Zephaniah entirely.
The book itself draws to a close with a promise: after all the destruction (and only after all the destruction) God will gather those who are humble, who tell no lies, and do no wrong. He will give them safety and nurture. He will deliver them from their enemies and they will sing with joy once again. The warrior who delivered them will build them up again by his love. (3:17) God will save the lame and the outcast and restore fortunes to his reconstituted people.
The Less Obvious
- Zephaniah is not as much of a nut as he appears to be. Or perhaps we might put it this way: he’s no more of a nut than you or me. He lists seven nations that drive him crazy. I have my own list: North Korea, Iran, Russia, Israel, Venezuela, Afghanistan, Myanmar—and I’m just getting started. And looking homeward, what about priests who abuse children, politicians who commit felonies unfettered, and billionaires who bribe their way into power? What about the violence and fraud of our own day? Is it not even more prolific than in Old Testament ties?
Are our minds not as disturbed as Zephaniah’s? He merely alludes to scripture in his jeremiad. The opening line, “I will sweep away everything from the face of the earth…human and animal…” is simply a reference to Noah’s ark. The awful “Day of the Lord” is a common phrase used by most of the prophets in the Bible to refer to God’s intervention when the world gets too off-track. A fair reading of Zephaniah reveals that he is quite in the mainstream of both the Hebrew prophets—and the collection of people today who are disturbed by what is happening in our country and world.
- Zephaniah composed this sermon during the kingship of Josiah—six hundred years before the birth of Jesus. Josiah was one of the two “good” kings in the history of Israel/Judah—David being the other. (Solomon? you ask. The role model for all the worst—but that is for another Bible lesson.)
By the time Josiah ascended to the throne, the kingdom had already been divided by civil war, and only the southern part still survived—known as Judah. Capital city: Jerusalem. Josiah inherited a runt kingdom that neglected its generative and humane traditions, turned to idols, practiced child sacrifice, promoted commercial sex, lusted for the latest fads practiced by nearby superpowers, sanctioned corrupt judges, and ignored the needs of the humble. All these evils were engrained into the political, economic, and religious systems of his day. The problems were systemic, requiring the deconstruction of entire systems in order to institute reform.
The destruction that dominates Zephaniah’s message is sensible in the context of Josiah’s reform efforts. Deconstruction of systems always seems like everyone is being swept away and everything is being laid waste.
- The book of Zephaniah is fundamentally about abuse of power. And as his message unfolds, he blames haughtiness and arrogance for fueling such abuse. Logically, Zephaniah’s antidote to everything is humility.
In the Hebrew Bible, prophetic rhetoric often portrays God as an aggressive executioner of the wicked. But when prophetic literature is read in the context of the Bible’s historical writings, the actual fall of the mighty usually occurs over time and at the hands outsiders, whom God passively allows to topple his people. In other words, God’s punishment often takes the form of withdrawing protection from those who have neglected their covenant privileges and used their good fortunes to abuse others.
Several other biblical texts explain this. In Deuteronomy, Moses gives a warning to the Israelites right before he dies: when you enter this land that God has given you, do not think that you have gained it by your own hand. And in the gospels, Jesus warns that it will be easier for a camel to walk through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the Kingdom of God. In other words, success—whether political or financial—causes a person to forego humility. Our relationship with God is always lopsided—in favor of God. That reality is a given—as long as our understanding of “God” includes the notion of a higher power. But success in life usually corrodes the humility that accompanies this reality. And so Zephaniah describes God’s reconstituted world (after all the deconstruction) as being populated by the humble. (3: 11-13)
Unfortunately, Zephaniah never gets around to unpacking or explaining the concept of humility. He has left that task to us, including the work of differentiating humility from humiliation.
- The word “love” only appears one place in Zephaniah’s work—and he uses it in a highly odd context. Love comes from a warrior who will 1) give you victory, 2) rejoice over you with gladness, 3) renew you in his love, and 4) exult over you with loud singing.
This scene stretches our pious definitions of love. God gets in fights for us and delivers us from those who hurt us. God is smitten with us—and just looking at us causes God to be jubilant. God patches us up, nourishes us, teaches us, and gets us back on our feet. And all the while, God is singing in our ears—loudly. Zephaniah introduces us to “warrior love”—someone who will fight for us, take delight in us, and know exactly how to repair our hearts, bodies, and souls. A fighter turned medic.
Conclusion
Zephaniah is best read in its various contexts. We read it in the context of Josiah’s kingship because it helps us understand the matters that troubled Zephaniah—and stirred his passions and hopes. We read it in the context of the Hebrew Bible because it reminds us that we are reading poetry rather than a literal fortune-telling. We read it in the context of today’s news—because we have many of the same emotional overreactions that Zephaniah had. And we read it in the context of Advent, third Sunday, when we light the candle of love. Zephaniah does not offer us the love of an indulgent Santa Claus, but he offers us the tough love of a John the Baptist (also appearing in our lectionary readings.) Zephaniah’s warrior love is the only kind of love that suits a dark and darkening world. It is a love rooted in justice. Zephaniah reminds us that just as there can be no true peace without justice, so there can be no genuine love without it either.
Repertoire 