This was an emotional teaching for me. This is an incredibly tragic moment in the Gospel of Matthew, when Yeshua/Jesus utters his last lament to the Pharisees and their Scribes and leaves the Temple toward the Mount of Olives, hearkening back to the events of Ezekiel 10 and 11.

We’ll be talking about Temple language, and how it (and Yeshua) appear repeatedly in Psalm 118, along with His utterance, “Baruch haha b’shem Adonai,” or “Blessed is He who comes in the Name of the Lord” and explore what that might tell us about the season of His return. And yes, I cry. I know, I get emotional while reading the Word aloud sometimes. I am a big softie.

Here’s the transcript, not thoroughly edited so just ignore the small stuff

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36 Truly, I say to you, all these things will come upon this generation. 37 “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing! 38 See, your house is left to you desolate. 39 For I tell you, you will not see me again, until you say, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.’” 24 Jesus left the Temple… (ESV)

So, what are the “all these things” that will come upon this generation? Simply put, all of the penalties that were promised in the curse of the Law in Deuteronomy, the curses for rejecting God—the same curses seen at the time of Jerusalem’s fall to Babylon. It was about to happen all over again because Israel’s leaders had misused their authority and missed the time of their visitation. Innocent people, as always, would pay the price.

Hi, I’m Tyler Dawn Rosenquist and welcome to Character in Context, where we explore the historical context of Scripture and talk about how it bears on our own behavior and witness as image-bearers. You can find my teachings on my websites theancientbridge.com and contextforkids.com as well as on my youtube channels, accessible from my websites. You can also access past broadcasts on my podcast channel characterincontext.podbean.com and my context books for adults and families are available through amazon.com. And my podcasts are also available on iTunes now.

In 586 BCE, the Southern Kingdom of Judea was led into exile after repeatedly refusing to hear God’s warnings through His prophets against Idolatry and oppression. Those were God’s two hot button issues—you don’t worship any other gods and you don’t treat His people like Pharaoh treated their ancestors. But Israel was never exclusively monotheistic before the exile, not at any time. Even David had a household idol in his bedroom big enough to masquerade as a human being under the covers as per I Sam 19. They practiced henotheism, where God was on top of the pyramid, but many other regional gods were seen as subservient to him. Not to be confused with polytheism, where people worship many gods who work in cooperation to run the universe. There are clay pottery fragments which picture and are inscribed with the words “YHVH and His Asherah”—the mother goddess of the Canaanites portrayed as God’s consort. In Ezekiel, we see that Tammuz was being wept for in the Temple in order to bring back the rains (link) and that they were baking unleavened bread for the Queen of Heaven, Ishtar (link 1 link 2). We see that an Asherah was set up in the temple, although we don’t know what an Asherah was—some versions of the Bible add “pole” behind Asherah but we have zero archaeological or literary evidence for what they were and the Hebrew never reflects the word pole—we only know they were wooden, and this none survived. But the point is that Israel had other gods in YHVH’s face continually, even under David—ever since the death of Joshua. It was a blind spot, but we must remember that even though David had a teraph, he was still considered to be a man after God’s own heart.

What broke the camel’s back was the oppression going on of Jew against Jew, rich against poor. People were refusing to release their debt slaves after their six years of service were up—they were condemning poor Jews to perpetual servitude. They were acting the part of Pharaoh and they were also enslaving the Land and giving it no rest—they never allowed it to rest, not even once. They became Egypt—to the Land and to one another. Worse, in doing so they reflected badly upon God and made Him look like the Egyptian gods, and like Pharaoh, like every other god on the planet.

Now, after the exile, the Jews were totally cured of idolatry. They were like unidolatrous on steroids. They wouldn’t even allow their foreign occupiers to bring in standards or shields with people’s faces on them. More than once, they were willing to die in order to stop it. It was bewildering behavior to both the Greeks and Romans—even Pontius Pilate had to back down and pull his standards and shields out of Jerusalem.

But, as in the time of the Hasmonean Priest-kings—and I have some context for kids videos on that youtube channel about them—they proved that they were just as oppressive as the gentiles. The descendants of the Maccabeans, the grandson and great-grandsons of Simon, could be monstrous beyond belief—slaughtering other Jews, and even their own family members. Herod the Great, an Idumean, was known as a monster, but the Jewish leaders he supplanted were no better. Imagine allowing your own mother to starve to death in prison just so you could be king instead of your brother. Imagine slaughtering eight hundred of your political enemies through crucifixion, after killing their wives and children before their eyes. These times, politically, saw the wise of the Pharisees—as we talked about in another episode that I lodged between parts 2 and 3 of this series. Like it or not, no group exists in a cultural vacuum, and Yoma 9b of the Talmud says that the first century was a time of gratuitous hatred among the Jewish people, hating one another as well as outsiders. It was a time of terrible oppression, of robbing widow’s houses, false oaths (which could result in people being robbed of what they were owed), of frivolous divorce, leaving innocent women bereft of support, etc.

No, they were no longer idol worshipers, but they worshipped mammon, money—in that they aren’t that different from us—people who come up with a million reasons not to care for the poor, who take and take and take and give nothing back—always citing some verse out of context for why we should keep what is ours while taking from others. We are no different and even worse because at least the Pharisees were tithing above and beyond what they were required, even if it wasn’t rooted in caring for the poor and the Levites. We pretend to care while generally doing nothing, yet demanding everything. We’re just as blind, only about different things—the only difference is that we are judging the Pharisees while they didn’t even know we would ever exist. And Yeshua is telling them that all “these things” would come upon their generation—all these things that are related to the warnings of Matthew 24—that the Temple would fall, that Jerusalem would fall in 70 AD after a four year battle—that they would be under siege and in desperate need and subjected to terrible hunger and violence within and without, that they would even be expelled from the city permanently after the Bar Kochba revolt in the second century, and the Temple Mount would then be dedicated to Jupiter and Jerusalem would be renamed Aelia Capitolina.

In essence, the fate of the Second Temple and the rebuilt Jerusalem was worse than the first. It would be almost 1900 years before Jerusalem was out of gentile hands and the Temple Mount, save for a brief time in 1967, has never been returned. An abomination sits on the mount exactly where the Holy of Holies was located, over the bare patch of the top of Mt Moriah where the ark of the Covenant once sat during the days of Solomon’s Temple.

“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”

Over the past ten weeks, we’ve been reading Matthew chapter 23 and Yeshua’s polemic against the leaders who should have recognized their Messiah, and would have if they weren’t the gratuitously hateful generation rebuked by the later writers of the Talmud, if they weren’t oppressors, if they weren’t so hung up on their own social status and their legal minutiae. If their hearts were circumcised, if they had truly not been the descendants of the ones who killed the prophets—but they were. And I am not so sure that we are any better or different. They sure thought they were different, and they kept God’s laws better than we do—and they were still called lawless. They kept every sabbath, every Feast, truly ate clean, wore tzitzit and tassels, prayed the Shema three times a day plus the Amidah, observed ritual purity, etc. etc. They lived radically different from the Greco-Roman culture in many ways, but not in a lot of the ways that mattered. They still stood by debating legalities while the overwhelming majority of Jews languished in abject poverty. Worst of all, they were leading people away from the Messiah and undermining what He was teaching and doing. They saw goodness, mercy, meekness, deliverance, miracles, and healing before their eyes and then asked for a sign. Oh, but are we any different? I am not so sure I would pass the test myself.

Humans always think that their generation wouldn’t kill the prophets, kill the Messiah, kill the Jews in concentration camps…and then it happens and everyone asks why. Because we are only different in our imaginations. It isn’t so much that those who don’t know history are doomed to repeat it, but that we repeat it even when we are aware of events past because we don’t see ourselves in the villains of history—our own offenses, fears, and prejudices tell us that this time is different, or okay.

I think these last lines were spoken with a broken heart: “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”

It is no longer a plea, no longer a rebuke, I think. I think it is just a statement of fact.

“See, your house is left to you desolate.”

Ezekiel 10 18 Then the glory of the Lord went out from the threshold of the house, and stood over the cherubim. 19 And the cherubim lifted up their wings and mounted up from the earth before my eyes as they went out, with the wheels beside them. And they stood at the entrance of the east gate of the house of the Lord, and the glory of the God of Israel was over them.

Ez 11 22 Then the cherubim lifted up their wings, with the wheels beside them, and the glory of the God of Israel was over them. 23 And the glory of the Lord went up from the midst of the city and stood on the mountain that is on the east side of the city.

The mountain described “to the easy of the city” is the Mount of Olives, where Yeshua heads to after making his proclamation and leaving the Temple. But before He does this, He tells them “your house is left to you desolate.”

The Temple Mount was called Har HaBayit—the mountain of the House. God’s house, God’s earthly throne. It was never called the Jew’s house, or the House of the Israelites. It belonged to God, it was His House. Yeshua called it, “My Father’s House.”

Isaiah 56:6-8 English Standard Version (ESV)

“And the foreigners who join themselves to the Lord, to minister to him, to love the name of the Lord,
and to be his servants, everyone who keeps the Sabbath and does not profane it,
and holds fast my covenant—
these I will bring to my holy mountain, and make them joyful in my house of prayer;
their burnt offerings and their sacrifices will be accepted on my altar;
for my house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples.”

 

But here is the Messiah calling it not His Father’s House, not “my House” but “your house.” God has rejected the Temple, once more, because His people have rejected Him and therefore have defiled the worship there. Right there on the Temple Mount, they had the perfect image-bearer of God before them and they were denouncing and undermining Him. It was the last straw for this generation. Just as the Spirit of God had visibly left the first temple in Ezekiel, the presence of God through Messiah is leaving the Temple in Matthew 23/24.

Haggai 2 In the seventh month, on the twenty-first day of the month, the word of the Lord came by the hand of Haggai the prophet: “Speak now to Zerubbabel the son of Shealtiel, governor of Judah, and to Joshua the son of Jehozadak, the high priest, and to all the remnant of the people, and say, ‘Who is left among you who saw this house in its former glory? How do you see it now? Is it not as nothing in your eyes? Yet now be strong, O Zerubbabel, declares the Lord. Be strong, O Joshua, son of Jehozadak, the high priest. Be strong, all you people of the land, declares the Lord. Work, for I am with you, declares the Lord of hosts,according to the covenant that I made with you when you came out of Egypt. My Spirit remains in your midst. Fear not. For thus says the Lord of hosts: Yet once more, in a little while, I will shake the heavens and the earth and the sea and the dry land. And I will shake all nations, so that the treasures of all nations shall come in, and I will fill this house with glory, says the Lord of hosts. The silver is mine, and the gold is mine, declares the Lord of hosts. The latter glory of this house shall be greater than the former, says the Lord of hosts. And in this place I will give peace, declares the Lord of hosts.’”

The Second Temple, although God commanded it built in Haggai 1, was nothing as compared to the first. It was built under dangerous and even impoverished circumstances compared to the safety and lavishness of Solomon’s reign, and the presence of God never dwelt in this Temple as it had Solomon’s, and yet God claimed two things in speaking to the leaders of the exiles through Haggai—He said that this Temple would be greater than Solomon’s. How can a Temple be greater when it lacks the one thing that makes a Temple great? The indwelling of the deity! Was it Herod’s renovations? Certainly not. Although His renovations made it a wonder even greater than the Temple of Artemis in Ephesus, that’s just architecture and cannot measure up to the presence of God Himself.  No, the Second Temple was greater because God’s presence walked the grounds and taught and healed and delivered within that Temple in the person of the Messiah. He was the walking embodiment of the presence of God among the people, and as Haggai said, in that place, He gave peace to all who would listen and learn from Him. When He was crucified within sight of the Temple, He gave peace to the world. That’s why the Second Temple was greater—and not because of the architectural genius of a murderous despot. Which is why I never call it Herod’s Temple—because it wasn’t his. It was God’s.

The Talmud, in Yoma 39b, tells us some facts about the last 40 years of the Temple.

The Sages taught: During the tenure of Shimon HaTzaddik, the lot for God always arose in the High Priest’s right hand; after his death, it occurred only occasionally; but during the forty years prior to the destruction of the Second Temple, the lot for God did not arise in the High Priest’s right hand at all. So too, the strip of crimson wool that was tied to the head of the goat that was sent to Azazel did not turn white, and the westernmost lamp of the candelabrum did not burn continually.

And the doors of the Sanctuary opened by themselves as a sign that they would soon be opened by enemies.

I believe these accounts. When Yeshua left the Temple, God’s favor departed from it. It didn’t mean that He still wouldn’t be worshiped there by the faithful—that is a commandment. At Shavuot the 120 were all there worshiping. Paul returned to sacrifice the Passover and to fulfill the sacrifice as part of his (probably) Nazirite vow, as we read about him shaving his head earlier. God was still owed His worship there as long as it stood, but its days were numbered.

 

BUT, not forever, before Yeshua left, He said:

 

“For I tell you, you will not see me again, until you say, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.’”

“Blessed is He who comes in the Name of the Lord”—the words of Psalm 118:26, the Messianic Psalm of all Psalms. “Baruch habab b’shem, Adonai.” We read it during the Passover celebrations and we read it during the Feast of Tabernacles as we wave the lulav, the four species. It is a praise and prayer for resurrection in the time of Messiah—let’s read the whole thing in the Messianic Jewish TLV:

Praise Adonai, for He is good. For His lovingkindness endures forever.
O let Israel say: For His lovingkindness endures forever.
O let the house of Aaron say: For His lovingkindness endures forever.
O let those who fear Adonai say: For His lovingkindness endures forever.

Out of a tight place I called on AdonaiAdonai answered me with a spacious place.
Adonai is for me—I will not fear! What can man do to me?
Adonai is for me, as my helper. I will see the downfall of those who hate me.
It is better to take refuge in Adonai than to trust in man.
It is better to take refuge in Adonai than to trust in princes.
10 All nations surrounded me—in the Name of Adonai I cut them off.
11 They surrounded me, yes, all around me—in the Name of Adonai I cut them off.
12 They swarmed around me like bees—they were extinguished like burning thorns—
in the Name of Adonai I cut them off. 13 You pushed me hard to make me fall, but Adonai helped me.
14 Adonai is my strength and song, and He has become my salvation.
15 Shouts of joy and victory are in the tents of the righteous: “Adonai’s right hand is mighty!
16 Adonai’s right hand is lifted high! Adonai’s right hand is mighty!”

17 I will not die, but live, and proclaim what Adonai has done!
18 Adonai has chastened me hard, but has not given me over to death.

19 Open to me the gates of righteousness, that I may enter through them and praise Adonai.
20 This is the gate of Adonai—the righteous will enter through it.
21 I give You thanks, because You have answered me and have become my salvation.
22 The stone the builders rejected has become the capstone.
23 It is from Adonai: it is marvelous in our eyes!
24 This is the day that Adonai has made! Let us rejoice and be glad in it!
25 Hoshia-na! Please, Adonai, save now! We beseech You, Adonai, prosper us!
26 Baruch haba b’Shem Adonai—Blessed is He who comes in the Name of Adonai. We bless you from the House of Adonai.
27 Adonai is God, and He has given us light. Join the festival with branches, up to the horns of the altar.
28 You are my God, and I praise You. You are my God—I exalt You!
29 Praise Adonai, for He is good, for His lovingkindness endures forever.

 

As this is part of the Passover celebration as well as part of the Feast of Tabernacles, there are many who believe that it is a sign of the season of not only the death of Messiah but also the time of His return, during the time of the Fall Feasts. People debate about the day, but honestly, we’ll all only know for sure on that day and not a day before.

 

So the Temple was left desolate and abandoned, and within 40 years it would be destroyed, along with the bulk of Jerusalem, by the Romans who would, in the Second century, turn it into the pagan capital of the province, devoted to Jupiter. All of the Jews, those faithful to Yeshua and those who did not accept him, were all expelled and denied re-entry. It must have seemed like the end of the world, and it was the end of a world as it existed. The Second Temple period was over. Not a new dispensation, as was formerly taught, but a world without a Temple in Jerusalem. As I mentioned in my teaching about the Pharisees, it fundamentally and slowly changed Judaism into what we see today. The priests waned in importance and took second seat to the emerging rabbis, and they had to find new ways to celebrate the Feasts, and charity took the place of sacrifices. Some changes were very good, and very much needed—the Jews of later times recognized the hatred that existed in the first century and fundamentally changed some things. But sadly, Judaism split into a faction that was pro-Yeshua, and a faction that went on without Him. It actually took centuries for this to happen and, in the end, it had to be legally enforced by the Roman government in the fifth century when they regulated the approved religions of the Empire into nice neat little boxes with as little overlap as possible. But that is a subject for another time.

For now, it is enough to recognize that the Jewish leadership of the first century misused their influence and missed their Messiah and largely, but not completely, set the stage for future generations. We have to recognize that while Yeshua was wildly popular in Galilee, and hence to Galilee He returned after His resurrection, it was the Jerusalem elites who ultimately had the power to make Him or break Him reputation-wise among the general populace. We see this clearly both before and after the resurrection. Leadership always will be held to a higher standard because it is the leadership who has the power to give direction to the populace in general. Yeshua could have said His woes to all Jews, but He didn’t—it wouldn’t have been reasonable or appropriate. What He did do was lament that the people of Judea and Jerusalem and, to a lesser extent, the other Jews of Palestine, would pay the price for the actions of the leadership, but then that is the story of the nation of Israel from Moses to the exile, and from the return to the end of the Hasmonean line, and from Herod to the fall of Jerusalem in 70 CE. The story of God’s people, them long ago and us today, never really changes. What has changed is that at the Cross, the world was offered a Greater and Second Exodus out of something greater than just Egypt, offered to more than just one nation—it offered a way out of the oppression of sin and death. Like leaven worked into three measures of flour, the Kingdom of Heaven is spreading—despite the evil we have done as a continuing people.

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