Think about your life as a Christian. Wasn’t there a time when you felt on fire for God? Chances are that fire has smoldered over time. You aren’t living on the mountaintop the way you once were. Why do you think that is? Did something dramatic happen, dampening your faith? Maybe. But I’ll bet that fire cooled gradually—not so much a bucket of cold water poured on the burning flame, but a gradual drip that slowly snuffed out the embers.
What were those small, gradual drips?
The story of Haggai illustrates just how small drips can become enormously destructive to our faith. The prophet Haggai appears on the scene somewhere around 520 BC. It was about 70 years after God had sent his people into exile, and God kept his promise to bring the children of Israel back to the Promised Land.
Several Jewish leaders stepped up to lead Hebrew exiles back to Israel, including political leaders, Nehemiah and Zerubbabel, and Ezra, a religious leader. Under Ezra, reconstruction of the temple had commenced, and the project got off to a strong start, but by Haggai’s day, the project had lost steam and had been stalled for about 16 years. So Haggai writes his book to confront that.
While the people built extravagant houses for themselves, God’s house continued to lie in ruins. The people weren’t lacking for roofs over their heads; they were making every modern, lavish upgrade they could. Here’s the thing: God didn’t object to this work itself, but the motivation behind it, along with neglect of his temple, revealed their true hearts. The temple was supposed to be the center of their lives—the place where they heard from God, taught their families about him, and where strangers from the nations could learn about God’s salvation. It should have been their priority.
How did the temple end up in disrepair? Was it from one dramatic gesture, a huge decision by God’s people to abandon him? Nope: The temple’s neglect didn’t happen in one fell swoop at all. Haggai tells us it started out strong. But eventually, the people got distracted as they slowly prioritized themselves over God. Not a bucket of water—a series of small drips.
It reminds me of those slow leaks we all get in our tires. My three girls are all driving now. (Pray for me.) Somehow, every time I get into one of their cars, inevitably the tire pressure light comes on. Sometimes, it’s just low air. But most of the time, there’s a nail in one—or more—of their tires. (Are they driving over construction sites? How do they find these things?) Of course, my girls never know where they picked up the nail, because that’s the thing: When there’s a small leak, the low air pressure doesn’t usually show up at once. It lurks, slowly letting out air. And then, one day, that warning sign just appears.
This is similar to how Christians fade spiritually, and it’s what Haggai is pointing to. It’s almost never in one dramatic moment. It’s slow. It’s a nail-in-the-tire leak. With time, they drift in their priorities, faith commitments, and their willingness to sacrifice, until the “Low Holy Ghost” pressure light is on. Like the church in Ephesus, Jesus asks, “What happened to you? You’ve lost your first love” (Revelation 2). It’s not some big decision to walk away from God, but you’ve lost your first love.
Think back again to that time you were on fire as a Christian. What was your prayer life like? Were you filled with bold trust and an eagerness to give? How concerned were you with people who didn’t know Jesus?
What about now? What defines your prayer life? What brings you the most joy? Are you pining for the home renovations more than leaving a lasting legacy with your money? The problem isn’t what you’re longing for; it’s what comes first in your heart. Does what you’re saying with your mouth match your heart and your actions?
Until you reorient your heart, Haggai says, your giving will be impure. Your spiritual disciplines will be half-hearted. God doesn’t want you to respond to this leak with a knee-jerk, guilt-based reaction, throwing some money in the offering to help alleviate your conscience. He wants something more simple, more radical.
He wants to be first in your heart again.
