God’s greater glory is coming

2 On the twenty-first day of the seventh month, the word of the Lord came through the prophet Haggai: 2 ‘Speak to Zerubbabel son of Shealtiel, governor of Judah, to the high priest Joshua son of Jehozadak, and to the remnant of the people: 3 “Who is left among you who saw this house in its former glory? How does it look to you now? Doesn’t it seem to you like nothing by comparison? 4 Even so, be strong, Zerubbabel – this is the Lord’s declaration. Be strong, Joshua son of Jehozadak, high priest. Be strong, all you people of the land – this is the Lord’s declaration. Work! For I am with you – the declaration of the Lord of Armies. 5 This is the promise I made to you when you came out of Egypt, and my Spirit is present among you; don’t be afraid.” ’

6 For the Lord of Armies says this: ‘Once more, in a little while, I am going to shake the heavens and the earth, the sea and the dry land. 7 I will shake all the nations so that the treasures of all the nations will come, and I will fill this house with glory,’ says the Lord of Armies. 8 ‘The silver and gold belong to me’ – this is the declaration of the Lord of Armies. 9 ‘The final glory of this house will be greater than the first,’ says the Lord of Armies. ‘I will provide peace in this place’ – this is the declaration of the Lord of Armies.

Haggai 2:1-9

Introduction

A little boy stands before a large, hungry crowd. All he has are five small loaves and two tiny fish. That’s what Jesus’ disciples noticed. Not the boy’s willingness, not his faith. They noticed his inadequacy. The disciples looked at what he had to offer and said what any reasonable person in the crowd would have said: “Surely this is insufficient. It seems like nothing.”

Insufficient. The word lands. It lands for the mother with young children, wondering if her daily unseen work matters at all. It lands for the man seated at his desk, staring at a career that never became what he thought it would be. It lands for anyone who has ever looked at what they have to offer God and thought, “Surely this is not enough.”

The people of God once stood before the foundation of a temple and felt the same. They had obeyed. They had begun the work. They were building something which looked like nothing by comparison to what had come before. Small stones, plain walls, no gold, no glory cloud. This morning we’re going to sit in the rubble with them in Haggai chapter 2, verses 1 to 9, because God’s answer to their fear is His answer to us today, and it’s not what we might expect.

How does it look to you now?

Our first point is taken from Haggai chapter 2, verses 1 to 3: “How does it look to you now?” Read verse one with me: “On the twenty-first day of the seventh month.” These events happened during the Festival of Booths. It was the time of the year Israel remembered that God had brought them out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm. One month has passed since the recorded events in Haggai chapter 1, since Haggai had confronted the people’s complacency. In that chapter, they had obeyed and work had begun on the temple. Obedience, however, does not immunise against discouragement.

Verse one continues, “The word of the Lord came through the prophet Haggai.” Verse two, “Speak. Speak to Zerubbabel, governor of Judah,” the political leader. “Speak to the high priest Joshua,” the spiritual leader, “and speak to the whole remnant of the people,” every single worker, because discouragement knows no rank.

Then come the questions in verse three. Three of them. First, “Who is left among you who saw this house in its former glory?” You see, after Solomon’s temple had been built, just before it was destroyed, God’s people had been taken into exile. Some of those people were small boys at the time. They had lived in exile for seventy years, but now God had brought them back. Now those small boys were old men, and they remember. They were children when Solomon’s temple stood. They remembered the gold. They remembered the cherubim. They remembered the massive stones and the ornate decoration. They would have remembered the cloud of God’s glory which filled the house so thick that the priests could not minister in it. Now, as they stand before the foundation ruins of this temple, they remember the former glory of the past. So God asks them the question: “How does it look to you now? Doesn’t it seem like nothing by comparison?”

The Lord does not mock their memory. The Lord does not scold their tears. He names their reality. Small stones, plain walls, no ark, no mercy seat, no holy fire. It looks like nothing. And in the ancient world, a temple was not merely a building. It was architectural theology. The size and the splendour of the temple declared the power of the deity which dwelt there. A meagre temple was not just an aesthetic disappointment. It was a theological embarrassment. Yahweh’s temple, the foundations of which stood before them, was small. They feared that their God would look insignificant.

Do you worry sometimes that what you have to offer God is too small? A little boy once stood before a hungry crowd and all he had were five small loaves and two tiny fish. Even the disciples looked at the offering and said what any reasonable person would say: “What is this among so many? It seems like nothing.” We worry too often about our offering rather than what He can do with it. The temple before this people was insignificant. It really was. But the glory of this house was never meant to reside in its stones. In Haggai chapter 2, verses 1 to 3, the Lord contrasts Solomon’s former glory with this current temple’s insignificance. The people measured their present work against that former glory. They asked the question, “Is what we offer enough?” instead of asking the question, “Is what we offer what He wants?” But the Lord is not finished speaking. There is more. There is a promise He desires His people to hold on to. Which brings us to our second point.

I am with you… Do not be afraid

“I am with you. Do not be afraid.” That is from Haggai chapter 2, verses 4 and 5. Verse four reads, “Be strong, Zerubbabel. Be strong, Joshua. Be strong, all you people.” The command comes three times—to the governor, to the priest, and to every single labourer—because discouragement respects no rank. Neither does His command. Bernard Ward taught the Saints Over Sixty from this passage that “be strong” translates the Hebrew word, and it means more than just muscle. It is a stubborn refusal to quit trusting God. Then He gives another imperative. Don’t just be strong. “Work!” Not just attitude, action. “I gave you a temple to build—a design, a plan, My will. Now go and do it. Roll up your sleeves. Grasp the stone. Lay the bricks.” This is sweaty manual labour, calloused hands, aching backs, the kind of work which leaves you exhausted at sunset.

How are they to be strong? How are they to go about this work? He says, “For I am with you”—this is the declaration of the Lord of Armies. “This is the promise I made to you when you came out of Egypt.” God reaches back to the Exodus, to the covenant at Sinai, when He dwelt amongst them in the tabernacle, when His Spirit led them through the wilderness by cloud and by fire. That same Spirit is present among you. He promises, “In your dust, in your sweat, in the meagre stones that you are picking up, My Spirit is present among you in a present, active, enabling sense.” And then He says, “Do not be afraid.”

Do not be afraid. It is not a suggestion. It is a command with a foundation. It throws their memories back to David’s words to Solomon before the first temple was built. David said to his son, “Be strong and courageous and do the work. Don’t be afraid and don’t be discouraged, for the Lord my God is with you.” This promise spans generations—from David to Solomon, to this people, to us. You can think of it this way. A child walks into a dark room and hears a noise and freezes. Then his father speaks: “Don’t be afraid. I’m here.” The darkness doesn’t change. The scary noise hasn’t gone away. But the father’s presence changes everything. The child walks forward, not because the room is bright, but because his dad is near.

“Don’t be afraid,” God says to His people, “because I am with you.” And that is all the comfort you will need. In these two verses, Haggai chapter 2, verses 4 to 5, the Lord issues a threefold command: “Be strong. Work. Do not be afraid.” And He anchors it in a promise: “I am with you. My Spirit is present.” The same God who parted the sea and filled the tabernacle now stands alongside you in the rubble. This is how the author builds his argument. We cannot build fearlessly until we know whose presence fills the site. The foundation of our courage is never going to be our own strength. It will be His presence. But the Lord is not finished speaking. If His presence is the foundation, the question is, what is the future? What glory could possibly surpass the cloud that had filled Solomon’s temple so long ago? The answer is coming, and it is a promise we can hold on to.

The final glory of this house will be greater

Our final point is taken from Haggai chapter 2, verses 6 to 9. “The final glory of this house will be greater.” Verse 6 reads, “For the Lord of Armies says this: ‘Once more, in a little while, I am going to shake the heavens and the earth, the sea and the dry land.’” This will not be a local tremor. This will be a cosmic shaking. Stars will rattle and seas will churn, and every force that opposes God will fall. Thrones will collapse. Economies will crumble. The proud will be brought low. The mighty will be made weak. This is not a human renovation. This is a divine revolution. Verse 7: “I will shake all the nations so that the treasures of all the nations will come.” The shaking is not only to destroy; the shaking clears the way. The wealth of the Gentiles will pour into Jerusalem. Isaiah saw this—the nations streaming to Zion, not as conquerors, but as contributors, bringing gold, silver, tribute meant for a king.

And He goes on to say, “I will fill this house with glory, says the Lord of Armies.” The cloud that filled Solomon’s temple was thick. It was heavy. It was terrifying. The priests could not stand. That was glory. But something greater is coming. The weight of the future glory will make the first seem like its shadow. God says in verse 8, “The silver and the gold belong to me—this is the declaration of the Lord of Armies.” Haggai’s people had no money. They were refugees, exiles brought back into a kingdom that was rubble. They had no gold. They stared at plain stones. And to their despondency, God says, “I own everything, and I will supply what I demand.”

Verse 9: “The final glory of this house will be greater than the first, says the Lord of Armies.” How will the plain stones of the temple that stand before God’s people now surpass Solomon’s temple’s glory? How will the meagre temple outshine the cherubim? How on earth will the glory of this temple surpass the cloud that was so thick the priests could not stand? I have no doubt the builders scratched their heads and the priests frowned. The words the prophet wrote here seem impossible. But God closes by saying, “I will provide peace in this place—this is the declaration of the Lord of Armies.” God will provide shalom—not a ceasefire, not a temporary truce with the nations around Israel, but wholeness. The temple was where God met with men, where their sin might be atoned for, where peace was restored. But this temple had no ark, no mercy seat. How would God bring peace to this place?

Picture for a moment an architect handing a blueprint to a builder. The construction site before the builder is just rubble. It’s a mess. But as the builder unfolds the plan, he sees a house of beauty—rooms where children will laugh, windows where light will spill in. It’s what will be. And so the builder picks up his hammer and goes to work. The Lord in this passage is promising a great reversal, a great shaking, a glory, and a peace. He has unfolded His blueprint before His people so that we can build fearlessly, knowing that the end is certain. The glory will come. The promise has been made. The future is decided.

Connect to the gospel

But where will this glory come from? Who will bring this peace? The question hangs in the air. Where will the glory come from? Who will bring this peace? As the people stared at the plain stones and wondered, as builders scratched their heads and priests frowned, what the prophet wrote seemed absolutely impossible. But the Lord of Armies had spoken. The final glory of this house will be greater than the first, and He will provide peace in that place.

Four hundred years passed. Around the time of Christ, there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon. The man was righteous and devout, looking forward to Israel’s consolation, and the Holy Spirit was upon him. It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he saw the Lord’s Messiah. So he waited and he watched, day after day, night after night, until one ordinary afternoon, guided by the Spirit, he entered the temple. A poor couple came through the gates carrying their infant son. Simeon took the child in his arms and praised God, saying, “Now, Master, you can dismiss your servant in peace, as you promised. For my eyes have seen your salvation. You have prepared it in the presence of all peoples—a light for revelation to the Gentiles and glory to your people Israel.”

Behold, friends—that moment, that “aha” moment! Every unfulfilled word that Haggai had spoken now stood before Simeon in the flesh. The glory that would fill this temple, that would outshine Solomon’s glory—that dense, dark, terrifying cloud where priests could not stand—was not a cloud. It was a Person. Flesh, blood, breath, a baby. The Desire of all nations had come. The greater glory was a child.

But He did not remain a child. He grew. He walked up Golgotha and purchased the peace that Haggai foretold—not with gold from the nations, not with silver from the treasury, but with blood from His veins. He brings shalom, right relationship. The temple of His body was torn down so that peace with God could be secured. And He walked out of the tomb because death could not hold Him. Then He went onto a mountain where He declared what Haggai had said so many years before: “I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” All of God’s promises are fulfilled in the glory that came to the temple—the Babe born in Bethlehem. Jesus, the Son of God, filled the tabernacle with His glory. And the same Spirit who led Israel through the seas now dwells with you, so that you can build fearlessly because Christ is with you and your future is secured.

Application for believers

Now, how ought this truth transform us in our daily lives? First, believers—those of you who have placed your faith and trust in Jesus Christ as your Lord and Saviour—build fearlessly, for Christ is with you and your future is secured. That is the truth. Now go and live it. Stay faithfully fearless in the work God has given you to do. Anchor your daily obedience in His empowering presence, not in your own strength. You are not building with what you bring. You are building with what He supplies. So build on His promises, not on what you see.

Young adult, you stare into a career that feels small. Offer it to the Lord. The Lord multiplies little loaves. Do the work which has been set in front of you. Build fearlessly because He is building something greater than what you see. New convert, your faith feels fragile and you wonder if you can stand by yourself. Offer God your trembling trust. The Spirit of God strengthens the weak. Work out your salvation with fear and trembling. Build upon the Rock. He will hold you fast. Your small faith will move mountains. Mature saint, your years of quiet service seem unnoticed. You offer steady faithfulness that no one applauds. Keep building. The Lord your God sees your efforts. Your labour is not in vain. Stay faithfully fearless, for Christ is with you. Those plain stones you lay carry future glory. Older saints, even as your body weakens and your strength fades, and you only have prayers to offer, offer your prayers boldly, because the Spirit of God prays with you. Build through intercession and rest in His strength. Your prayers shake the heavens, for the Lord of Armies chooses to hear them. The final glory has come. Peace has been purchased. And He is with you now. His Spirit is empowering you now. So you can build now, right where you are—not in fear, not with paralysis, not looking back. Stand fearlessly faithful in the work He has given you right where you are.

Application for unbelievers

Unbelievers—those of you who have not yet placed your faith and trust in Jesus Christ as your Lord and Saviour—you stand presently in the rubble of your own making. Failed attempts, broken promises, fading glories. You know something of the shame of what might have been, the fear that God has abandoned you. You are right to fear, for your sin deserves His silence and your rebellion deserves exile. But hear this. The same God who spoke to those people in the rubble now speaks to you. He does not demand that you rebuild yourself. Instead, He offers you Himself. He offers to be your Foundation, the Rock where all your attempts have crumbled. He offers to be your Presence—not a temple made with hands. He offers you His own peace, shalom with God purchased not by your effort but by Another. So, my friend, ask Christ. Ask Him now. Ask Him to be your Foundation. Ask Him to be your Presence. Ask Him to give you His peace. He will not despise you and leave you in the rubble. He builds glory from the ruins. Come to Him. Come to Him today.

Conclusion

A little boy’s lunch fed five thousand—not because what he had to offer was good enough, but because Jesus took what seemed like nothing and made it more than enough. This morning, you’ve heard the promise: “I am with you. Don’t be afraid.” You’ve seen the blueprint. The final glory is the greater glory because the glory is not a cloud. It is a Person. Christ has come. Christ has died. Christ has risen, and He is with you now. So build fearlessly, for Christ is with you and your future is secured. Believers, stay faithful. Anchor your obedience in His presence. Unbeliever, come to Him. Ask Him to be your Foundation, your Presence, your Peace. He will not turn you away. You thought you had so little to offer. The cross decides otherwise. Amen.