The Full Monty:
Malachi 1:1 to 4:6 To read if you have time to take in the whole sweep of Malachi’s message.
The Continental Option:
Malachi 3:1-18 Read this if you only have time for one significant section.
One Shot Espresso:
Malachi 3:16 ‘Then those who feared the Lord spoke with each other, and the Lord listened to what they said. In his presence, a scroll of remembrance was written to record the names of those who feared him and always thought about the honour of his name.’ (NLT)
Two households, both alike in dignity, in fair Verona, where we lay our scene…’ The opening words of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet have captured audience’s imaginations for centuries. Without counting foreignlanguage productions, the play has been re-imagined for the screen at least 46 times: from ballet to Bangra; from Leonard Bernstein’s epic West Side Story to Baz Luhrmann’s 1996 Radiohead-tinged extravaganza. The adventure moves us every time. We think of it as the greatest love story ever told.
But it isn’t. Not by a long way. That accolade would have to be reserved for a story that began before the very dawn of time and will still be unfolding at its end - the story of God’s love for the world he made. So caught up are we in God’s narrative, so familiar with its scenes and themes, we forget that, at its core, it is a simple love story. When we read the Old Testament particularly, we lose sight of love and see only bloodshed and judgement, the shadowy past of our God ‘before he became a Christian’. But we are wrong. Jesus shows us, once and for all, that God has always loved us. That love has been his nature from the start, and once we know it, we realise that it’s been there, like a hidden code, through the Old Testament’s journey. One place we see it more deeply than most, once we know what to look for, is in the prophecies of Malachi. The last of the ‘minor prophets’ - minor by length, not by significance - Malachi closes off the Old Testament with a resounding affirmation of God’s love for his people.
My messenger
The name Malachi is almost certainly a pseudonym, meaning simply ‘my messenger’. Some have claimed that Nehemiah is the author of the book, though there is little beyond circumstances to substantiate this. The setting though, is without doubt shared with Nehemiah. This is the period when the exiles have returned to Jerusalem; when the walls have been rebuilt; when some semblance of the former priestly routine has been re-established. It is a time of restoration, but all is not well. The rebuilding of walls is not entirely matched by the reigniting of hearts. The people are slipping, once again, into old habits of idolatry and compromise.
Malachi repeats the themes so familiar to readers of the Old Testament prophets: the sins of the people, their lack of devotion to God and the compromises they have made. It all sounds depressingly familiar. Except that it’s not, because Malachi weaves in two threads that are all too often absent: threads that anticipate the coming of God’s Messiah.
Something new is coming; something bigger and greater. God is promising the ultimate and final expression of his love
The first is that he begins and ends his oracle with a moving reminder of the faithfulness of God. The first words of his book, attributed to Yahweh, are, ‘I have always loved you’ (1:2). The context is the patient, faithful love of Yahweh for his people. Even the description of God’s apparent hatred of Esau, represented in the nation of Edom, is not what it seems (1:3-5). God is not confessing to having harboured personal hatred against Edom, rather he is showing Israel, by contrast, how deeply he has loved them. Compared to his love for his people, the treatment of any other nation looks like hatred. For reasons of his own, God has chosen to lavish his love on Israel. This is the background to his judgements, to his claims against them: and ultimately to the promise of restoration. It is all grounded, rooted, in his love. Even in exile God has not abandoned his people. Even as a small, bedraggled remnant, they are the object of his affection.
This is the same love that will, as chapter four tells us, ‘rise with healing in its wings’ until his people ‘leap with joy like calves’ (4:2). This love will rebuild the family of Israel, turning ‘the hearts of fathers to their children and of children to their fathers.’ (4:6). Indeed, this love is the only alternative to the land being cursed (4:6). Judgement, in Malachi’s world, is an expression of God’s love, as is the restoration he will bring for those who fear him. In the closing moments of the Old Testament narrative, the God who called Abraham, who met with Jacob, who protected Joseph and raised Moses to lead his people to freedom comes to them once more to remind them that he did all this for love and that his love will ultimately heal and restore them. What more beautiful note could the ancient scriptures end on? What better words could be spoken before four centuries of silence are broken with John the Baptist’s cry, ‘Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world’ (John 1:29)?
Intermission
The curtain is falling on the first act of God’s great drama. An intermission looms, but before leaving the stage, God says: ‘I have loved you - wait until you see just how much. This story isn’t over yet.’
The second unusual feature of Malachi’s narrative is that he goes to such lengths to include the response of the people. Prophecy in the Old Testament is often delivered and left hanging. We almost never know how God’s word was received. Did the people hear and repent? Was there a happy ending? Malachi wants us to know that response is part of prophetic ministry. He wants us to hear the voice of the people. He does this by constructing the entire narrative in a pattern of call-and-response. Twelve times in the book the phrase ‘you say’ occurs. Chapter one sets the scene: ‘“I have always loved you,” says the Lord. But you say, “Really? How have you loved us?” And the Lord replies, “This is how I showed my love for you: I loved your ancestor Jacob…”’ (1:2-3) The back-and-forth of conversation between God and his people goes on. To every accusation God brings, the people say, ‘How have we done that?’ and God, through the prophet, explains. For Malachi, the righteousness of God is not expressed in a series of non-negotiable demands but in an invitation to dialogue, to engagement. God wants to be understood by his people, not blindly feared.
Going even further, Malachi takes the unusual step of recording, in the book itself, the response of the people, ‘Those who feared the Lord spoke with each other, and the Lord listened to what they said’ (3:16). This is the turning point of Malachi’s ministry, the very purpose of his oracle. He has not brought accusations against God’s people to drive them further away, he is not looking to score points against them or be proved right. What he wants, what he longs for, is that the people will return to God. Much to his joy, many of them do. Like Jonah in Nineveh, Malachi discovers that all God’s words are issued on the basis of his love and that the end in view is reconciliation. The book of remembrance created is a recognition that those who have responded to God are part of something new: the beginnings of a national renewal. By acknowledging one another, by standing together as their names are recorded, they are saying that Malachi is right, that it is time to turn to God in a new way. They are the first fruits of the promised restoration. Something new is coming; something bigger and greater. God is promising the ultimate and final expression of his love.
Commentator Joyce Baldwin describes Malachi as ‘a book of waiting’. It is as if Advent begins not weeks, but centuries before the birth of Jesus. The world holds its breath. We are reminded that God has loved us from the very beginning, his affection, anchored in history, is so deep it is beyond our comprehension. We are promised that he will love us at the end, his love coming to full expression. Between memory and promise we are called to faithful response. We turn our hearts to him. We tie our names to his. We wait for him. It is love, not anger, God asks you to respond to.
Take Away
Two easily digestible tweet-sized bites
Thought:
If Malachi’s words were the last lines uttered in a play before the curtain fell on act one, what thoughts would fill your mind in the intermission? What end would you imagine for the story?
Prayer:
Fashion our hearts God to respond to your great love. Stronger than shame. Firmer than fear. The love that will not let us go.