Malachi, the last of the prophets, wrote during a period of profound despair and disillusionment. The exiles had returned from Babylon but the rosy future prophesied for Israel had failed to materialize. Jerusalem was still ruled by a Persian governor. The reconstruction of the temple had fizzled out. The nation was economically ruined and the years of servitude had even taken their toll on the cultural and religious life of the people. The spark and dynamism of the nation was gone.
Were there really as many wicked people as Malachi implied? Probably not — prophets tend to assign to the “evil” category all those who are not on the same page. Did they have a collective problem? Definitely. Malachi’s sword-rattling scare language was meant to rouse the slack and apathetic and to make those who had chosen a dark path of life to think twice.
On the other hand, he was quick to promise God’s blessings and favour on those who walked the correct path and revered the divine name in thought, word and deed. It wasn’t successful. Fear and threats are seldom effective tools in the long run for reinvigorating a community or forming just and compassionate people. This is a lesson that all religions have to learn over and over again — it didn’t work then and it doesn’t work now. In our own time it is important not to give in to thoughts of judgment, retribution or fear, and to avoid demonizing those whom we feel are problematic. Evil is always overcome with good; mercy and compassion are always more powerful and healing than violence and retribution.
Some people will always work the system to their advantage. In Thessalonica, a few used the expectation of the imminent return of Jesus to sponge off the generosity of the community. After all, if everything was going to be swept away or changed in the near future, why work up a sweat earning a living?
Paul or one writing in his name was adamant: those who refuse to shoulder their share of the work should not be supported by the community. The expectation of the Lord’s return should make one more eager and zealous in doing His work — laziness and apathy are never an appropriate religious response.
How do we know when the end is at hand? The Gospel gives us a list of warning signs: wars, earthquakes, turmoil, plagues and famines.
But there is a problem — we have never been without these grim realities. Just read today’s paper or watch the news. They are not much help, and even the Gospel admits that these are mere preparatory signs.
This account was written after the devastation of the Jewish revolt against Rome in 66-72, with the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple a vivid memory. These terrible events were seen as part of the whole end-time process. For people in the midst of such suffering, it seemed as if the world was ending.
There are lessons in this passage. Do not cling to the visible signs of religious institutions for they can all be swept away, as was the temple. Don’t run blindly and naively after those who stir people up with religious claims or predictions of doom.
In times of turmoil, uncertainty and struggle (such as our own) it is important to keep one’s mind and heart in good order and engaged at all times. This is when we discover what we are really made of spiritually.
In the midst of persecution and chaos, the Gospel passage counsels courage, steadfast faith and patient endurance. By meeting the challenges with these qualities and attitudes, we form our souls for eternity — in the words of the Gospel passage, we gain our souls.