“Does anyone dare despise the day of small beginnings?” declares the angel to Zechariah, the prophet. The angel was speaking about the temple of Jerusalem being rebuilt.
Small beginnings—did the people think the new temple would be too small? Was their faith too small? Maybe their labor force, or their resources were too small. Or perhaps, in light of the grand scheme of things, a simple turn toward home seemed… anticlimactic.
“They’ll change their tune”, the angel says again to Zechariah, “when they see Zerubbabel setting the last stone in place.”
Zerubbabel, meaning “born in captivity”, would be the catalyst of this first movement toward the temple’s restoration.
It’s a theme that rings familiar to those who know the Bible stories of Moses, King David, and the hope and purpose of the coming of Jesus.
Restoration starts as something small, right where we’re at. It starts the size of a cornerstone, or a piece of communion bread, or a mustard seed. It begins as a word that becomes a single light in the darkness.
And then (… and THEN!) it is everything all around us.
We are being rebuilt. We are becoming complete. We are not done yet—it gets better! It will happen and it is happening. All threats have already been overcome.
But the hope of restoration for all of creation appears fragile and meek. It starts out looking unlikely or unpopular.
It starts small—like with a person, like you and me. It begins with a humble confession or the simple act of believing.
It starts tiny. Like with a baby.