There's one promise in the Old Testament that I believe prefigures the gospel more than any other.
It's in Joel 2:25, and in the King James Version I grew up with it says: 'I will restore to you the years that the locust hath eaten.'
It's written after the prophet has depicted a horrifyingly destructive plague of locusts, that he characterises as being like a great army devouring everything in its path, darkening even the sun with their numbers. It's a judgment on the people for their sins, he says. There is ruin and starvation; animals and people die and only the locust is left to triumph.
In parts of the world even today this is a dreadful reality. There are still swarms of locusts and they are still terrible destroyers. But Joel's words speak of a deeper spiritual truth. It isn't just lack of food and economic ruin he's talking about; it's a spiritual wasteland too. Many of us face this at some point in our lives. We don't know why, but everything falls apart – perhaps the job, or the marriage, or the relationship with children or parents or church; perhaps health, perhaps the loss of someone we love.
It can be very hard to see any hope beyond those dark times. But that's when Joel's words are most powerful: 'I will restore to you the years the locust has eaten.'
It's a promise of hope and an assurance of God's enduring love for us. And it foreshadows the gospel in this: that when Jesus died, the lives of his disciples were as desolate as the land of Israel, laid waste by the locust invasion. But God restored to them what had been taken from them, and more: the resurrection of Christ meant that a new, better and richer life could begin.
The idea of that swarm of locusts creates a visceral reaction in us of horror and fear. That mirrors the experiences we go through when we are beaten down by what life throws at us. But the promise of restoration is sealed with the resurrection, and God always keeps his promises.
Follow Mark Woods on Twitter: @RevMarkWoods
