Obadiah
Picture this: Your family is under attack. Your home is being invaded, your possessions are being stolen, and your loved ones are being threatened. In desperation, you call your brother who lives nearby for help. You're counting on him - he's family, after all. Blood is thicker than water, right? But not only does he refuse to come help you, you later discover something that makes your blood run cold. He actually helped the attackers plan the invasion. He rode in their car giving them to your home. He even joined them in looting your possessions after the attack was over.
How would you feel toward this brother? Betrayed? Angry? Devastated? That sense of betrayal would cut deeper than the attack itself, wouldn't it? Because it came from family - someone who should have protected you, someone who was supposed to have your back no matter what.
Well, this isn't just a hypothetical scenario. This is exactly what happened between the nations of Israel and Edom. And it's what sparked one of the most passionate, emotionally charged prophecies in all of Scripture - the book of Obadiah. Today we're diving into the smallest book in the Old Testament. Just 21 verses. You could read the entire thing in about three minutes. But don't let its size fool you. Obadiah delivers a message about pride, betrayal, God's justice, and His coming kingdom that packs more punch per verse than almost any other book in the Bible. This tiny prophetic book speaks directly to issues we wrestle with every single day: the temptation of pride, the call to stand with those who suffer, and the hope of God's ultimate victory over evil.
The Backstory: A Family Feud from the Beginning
To really understand the power and passion behind Obadiah's message, we need to understand the backstory between these two nations. This isn't just any conflict between neighboring countries - this is a family feud that literally goes back to the womb.
Let's travel back to Genesis 25 and meet two brothers whose rivalry would shape centuries of conflict. Here's what happened when Isaac and Rebekah were expecting:
“And Isaac prayed to the Lord for his wife, because she was barren. And the Lord granted his prayer, and Rebekah his wife conceived. The children struggled together within her, and she said, “If it is thus, why is this happening to me?” So she went to inquire of the Lord. And the Lord said to her,
“Two nations are in your womb,
and two peoples from within you shall be divided;
the one shall be stronger than the other,
the older shall serve the younger.”
When her days to give birth were completed, behold, there were twins in her womb. The first came out red, all his body like a hairy cloak, so they called his name Esau. Afterward his brother came out with his hand holding Esau’s heel, so his name was called Jacob. Isaac was sixty years old when she bore them.”
Rebekah's pregnancy was so turbulent that she actually went to inquire of the Lord about what was happening inside her. And God's response was remarkable: "Two nations are in your womb." This wasn't just about two brothers having sibling rivalry - this was about two nations whose conflict was ordained before their birth. Think about that for a moment. From the very beginning, even in the womb, these brothers were in conflict. Esau was born first, but Jacob came out grasping his heel - a prophetic picture of how Jacob would eventually overtake his older brother. The names tell the story: Esau means "hairy" or "rough," while Jacob means "heel-grabber" or "supplanter."
And sure enough, Jacob eventually received both the birthright and the blessing that should have gone to Esau - partly through his own deception, partly through God's sovereign plan. This created bitter resentment between the brothers that would last for generations. Now, here's where it gets really interesting. Genesis 36 explicitly connects Esau to the nation we're studying today:
“These are the generations of Esau (that is, Edom)...So Esau settled in the hill country of Seir. (Esau is Edom.) These are the generations of Esau the father of the Edomites in the hill country of Seir.”
Did you catch that? Scripture identifies Esau as Edom three times in this passage, just to make sure we don't miss the connection. Esau's descendants became the nation of Edom, settling in that mountainous region south of the Dead Sea. Jacob's descendants became Israel. So what we're dealing with in Obadiah isn't just a conflict between random nations - this is brother nations, descendants of twin brothers, locked in a family feud that had been brewing for centuries. Throughout their history, these brother nations experienced cycles of conflict and uneasy peace. Sometimes Israel dominated, sometimes Edom. Sometimes they coexisted, sometimes they clashed. But the breaking point - the moment that provoked God's judgment through Obadiah - came in 586 BC when Jerusalem fell to the Babylonian army.
So here’s the scene: The Babylonians have surrounded Jerusalem. The city is under siege. The temple - God's house, the center of Jewish worship and identity - is about to be destroyed. People are dying, others are being dragged off into exile. It's the darkest hour in Israel's history. And what did their brother nation Edom do in this moment of crisis? They didn't just stand by and watch. They actively helped the attackers. They joined in the destruction. They looted alongside the Babylonians. They even blocked escape routes and handed survivors over to the enemy.
Psalm 137 captures Israel's anguish over this betrayal:
“Remember, O Lord, against the Edomites
the day of Jerusalem,
how they said, ‘Lay it bare, lay it bare,
down to its foundations!’”
Can you hear the pain in those words? This wasn't just another attack from an enemy - this was betrayal by family in Israel's darkest hour. And it's this betrayal that provoked God's judgment through the prophet Obadiah. Keep in mind, Obadiah was likely writing after Jerusalem had fallen, when God's people were at their absolute lowest point. Their city was destroyed, their temple was in ruins, many were in exile, and their brother nation had betrayed them. Into this moment of despair and devastation, God sends this powerful message of judgment and hope.
The Root of the Problem: Pride and Its Deadly Deception
Let's dive into Obadiah's prophecy itself, starting with verses 1-4:
“The vision of Obadiah.
Thus says the Lord God concerning Edom:
We have heard a report from the Lord,
and a messenger has been sent among the nations:
“Rise up! Let us rise against her for battle!”
Behold, I will make you small among the nations;
you shall be utterly despised.
The pride of your heart has deceived you,
you who live in the clefts of the rock,
in your lofty dwelling,
who say in your heart,
“Who will bring me down to the ground?”
Though you soar aloft like the eagle,
though your nest is set among the stars,
from there I will bring you down,
declares the Lord.”
Right from the start, God declares that Edom will be "made small among the nations" and "utterly despised." But notice what God identifies as Edom's root problem in verse 3: "The pride of your heart has deceived you."
Now, the Hebrew word for pride here is z'don, and it's not talking about the positive kind of pride we might feel about our children's accomplishments or our team winning a game. This word suggests arrogant presumption, rebellious self-exaltation, and a fundamental rejection of God's sovereignty. It's the kind of pride that leads people to believe they don't need God, that they can secure their own destiny, that they're essentially untouchable. And for Edom, this pride had a very specific source. They lived in a mountainous region with their capital likely at Petra - you know, that incredible city carved into rose-colored cliffs that you've probably seen in movies like Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. These natural fortresses seemed absolutely impenetrable. The terrain was so rugged, the defenses so formidable, that Edom genuinely believed they were untouchable.
Listen to their boast in verse 3: "Who will bring me down to the ground?" This wasn't just confidence in their military defenses - this was a declaration of independence from God. It was essentially Edom saying, "We don't need divine protection like other nations. We've got this handled. We're secure." Sound familiar? We might not live in mountain fortresses, but don't we build our own versions of "impenetrable" security? We construct elaborate safety nets: financial portfolios, professional achievements, social status, technological safeguards, insurance policies, retirement plans, social connections. None of these things are wrong in themselves - in fact, many of them are wise and responsible. But when they become our primary source of security rather than God, when we start thinking "Who will bring me down?" because of our human accomplishments, we've fallen right into Edom's trap.
Think about it: How often do we catch ourselves thinking, "I've got enough saved up that I don't need to worry," or "My connections will get me through any crisis," or "My skills and reputation will protect me"? That's z'don - the pride that deceives us into thinking we're more secure than we actually are.
And God's response to Edom's pride is both direct and sobering in verse 4: "Though you soar aloft like the eagle, though your nest is set among the stars, from there I will bring you down, declares the Lord."
Do you see the poetic irony here? God uses imagery of the highest possible elevation - eagles soaring, nests among the stars - to emphasize that no human security system, no matter how impressive, is beyond His reach. No mountain fortress, no financial reserve, no political alliance, no technological advancement is too high for God to bring down if pride has made it an idol.
This is one of the most dangerous aspects of pride: it creates an illusion of safety that simply doesn't exist. Pride doesn't just come before a fall - pride actually causes the fall by blinding us to our real vulnerabilities and our desperate need for God.
In verses 5-9, which we won't read in detail, God describes the completeness of Edom's coming destruction. He uses vivid imagery to show that unlike thieves who take only what they want, or grape gatherers who leave some gleanings behind, Edom will be picked completely clean. Their allies will turn against them and betray them. The nation that was famous for wisdom - remember, Job's friend Eliphaz came from Teman in Edom - will lose all understanding and discernment.
The message is crystal clear: pride doesn't just lead to destruction - pride makes destruction inevitable. It blinds us to our need for God and others. It deceives us into thinking we're secure when we're actually at our most vulnerable.
Here's one of the great ironies of pride: it often leads to the very downfall we're trying so hard to avoid. Edom thought their mountain fortress made them independent and secure, but their pride in that security made them vulnerable to God's judgment. Their strength became their weakness because it became their idol.
Where do you see this kind of pride operating in our world today? In our own hearts? What are the "mountain fortresses" we're tempted to trust in more than God?
The Betrayal: When Brothers Abandon Brothers
Now we come to the heart of Obadiah's indictment against Edom. Let's read verses 10-14:
"For the violence done to your brother Jacob, shame shall cover you, and you shall be cut off forever. On the day that you stood aloof, on the day that strangers carried off his wealth and foreigners entered his gates and cast lots for Jerusalem, you were like one of them. But do not rejoice over the people of Judah in the day of their ruin; do not rejoice over the people of Judah in the day of their destruction; do not boast in the day of distress. Do not enter the gate of my people in the day of their calamity; do not rejoice over his disaster in the day of his calamity; do not loot his wealth in the day of his calamity. Do not stand at the crossroads to cut off his fugitives; do not hand over his survivors in the day of distress."
Verse 10 identifies the core issue with devastating clarity: "For the violence done to your brother Jacob, shame shall cover you, and you shall be cut off forever."
Notice something crucial here: God still calls Jacob Edom's "brother." Four hundred years after the original twins had died, after centuries of conflict and tension, God still viewed these nations as having a special family relationship that carried specific responsibilities and obligations.
The word "violence" here is broader than just physical harm. In Hebrew, it includes any violation of a covenant relationship, any action that breaks the bonds of kinship and community that should exist between family members. Edom had violated the most fundamental bonds of brotherhood.
Verses 11-14 then detail Edom's specific sins through a series of devastating "You should not have..." statements. This creates this powerful, rhythmic drumbeat of condemnation as God lists failure after failure:
"On the day that you stood aloof" - They didn't help when Jerusalem needed them most. When their brother was under attack, they just watched from a distance.
"Do not rejoice over the people of Judah in the day of their ruin" - They actually celebrated Jerusalem's destruction! Can you imagine? Your brother's house is burning down, and instead of rushing to help, you're throwing a party.
"Do not loot his wealth in the day of his calamity" - They joined in taking Israel's possessions. They became scavengers feeding on their brother's corpse.
"Do not stand at the crossroads to cut off his fugitives" - This is perhaps the most chilling detail. They positioned themselves at escape routes and intersections, blocking fleeing survivors and handing them over to their enemies.
Do you see what's happening here? These are both sins of commission - actively doing wrong - and sins of omission - failing to do the right thing when given the opportunity. Edom didn't just watch passively as their brother nation suffered. They participated actively in that suffering. They didn't just fail to help - they actively harmed.
This brings up a challenging question for all of us: What opportunities to help others might we be ignoring right now? When have we been guilty of looking the other way when someone - especially someone we should care about - is suffering?
James 4:17 puts it bluntly: "Whoever knows the right thing to do and fails to do it, for him it is sin." Edom's sins remind us that we're responsible not just for the evil we do, but for the good we fail to do.
Remember Jesus' parable of the Good Samaritan in Luke 10? The priest and Levite didn't attack the man on the road - they simply "passed by on the other side." They didn't actively harm him. But Jesus clearly portrays their inaction as morally wrong. Their failure to help was itself a form of harm.
In our interconnected world, we're constantly faced with opportunities to help or harm, to stand with those who suffer or to look away and protect our own comfort. Obadiah challenges us to recognize these moments as moral crossroads where God is watching our choices.
Edom chose self-interest over brotherhood. They saw an opportunity for personal gain in Judah's suffering rather than an opportunity to demonstrate covenant faithfulness and family loyalty. And for this betrayal, this fundamental violation of the bonds that should have held them together, God promised judgment.
Think about your own life for a moment. Who are the "brothers" and "sisters" God has placed in your path? Who might be going through their own version of Jerusalem's fall - a health crisis, financial setback, relational breakdown, or spiritual struggle? Are you standing with them, or are you standing aloof? Are you helping, or are you like those who "passed by on the other side"?
God's Justice: The Day of Reckoning
Let's continue with verses 15-16, where God broadens the scope from Edom specifically to all nations:
"For the day of the Lord is near upon all the nations. As you have done, it shall be done to you; your deeds shall return on your own head. For as you have drunk on my holy mountain, so all the nations shall drink continually; they shall drink and swallow, and shall be as though they had never been."
Verse 15 introduces a fundamental principle of divine justice that runs throughout Scripture: "As you have done, it shall be done to you; your deeds shall return on your own head."
Now, this isn't karma or some cosmic payback system. This is God's justice that often mirrors the original offense in ways that are both poetic and precise. Those who show no mercy will receive no mercy. Those who exploit others will themselves be exploited. The measure we use will be measured back to us, just as Jesus taught in the Sermon on the Mount.
Notice the time element in verse 15: "For the day of the Lord is near upon all the nations." The Hebrew word for "near" is qarob, which stresses urgency and immediacy. This judgment isn't some distant, theoretical possibility - it's already approaching, already on the horizon. For Edom, destruction wasn't a matter of "if" but "when."
The "Day of the Lord" is a major theme that runs throughout the prophetic books. It refers to God's direct intervention in history, particularly in judgment against sin and injustice. For Edom, this would be a day of disaster and devastation. But notice that verse 15 says this day is coming "upon all the nations" - not just Edom. God's justice is universal. No nation, no people group, no individual is exempt from accountability before God.
Verse 16 uses drinking imagery to describe this judgment: "For as you have drunk on my holy mountain, so all the nations shall drink continually; they shall drink and swallow, and shall be as though they had never been."
The reference to drinking "on my holy mountain" likely refers to Edom's participation in the celebration and looting when Jerusalem (God's holy mountain) fell. They drank wine stolen from God's people, celebrated in God's holy place, and reveled in destruction. Now God says they will drink a different cup - the cup of His wrath - and it will be so devastating that they will be "as though they had never been."
This is sobering stuff, isn't it? It reminds us that God sees every act of injustice, every moment when the strong exploit the weak, every time someone chooses personal gain over basic human decency. And while His justice may be patient, it is also certain.
But here's what's remarkable about God's justice: it's not arbitrary or vengeful. It's restorative. The goal isn't just punishment for its own sake, but the restoration of righteousness and the protection of the innocent. God's justice serves His love, ensuring that evil doesn't have the final word and that those who suffer unjustly will ultimately be vindicated.
How does knowing that God's justice is both certain and restorative affect how you respond to injustice in the world around you? Does it give you patience to endure unfair treatment? Does it motivate you to stand up for others who are being mistreated?
Hope in the Darkness: The Promise of Restoration
But Obadiah doesn't end with judgment. Even in the midst of pronouncing doom on Edom, God offers hope to His people. Let's read verses 17-21:
"But in Mount Zion there shall be those who escape, and it shall be holy, and the house of Jacob shall possess their own possessions. The house of Jacob shall be a fire, and the house of Joseph a flame, and the house of Esau stubble; they shall burn them and consume them, and there shall be no survivor for the house of Esau, for the Lord has spoken. Those of the Negeb shall possess Mount Esau, and those of the Shephelah the land of the Philistines; they shall possess the land of Ephraim and the land of Samaria, and Benjamin shall possess Gilead. The exiles of this host of the people of Israel shall possess the land of the Canaanites as far as Zarephath, and the exiles of Jerusalem who are in Sepharad shall possess the cities of the Negeb. Saviors shall go up to Mount Zion to rule Mount Esau, and the kingdom shall be the Lord's."
Verse 17 is like a shaft of light breaking through dark clouds: "But in Mount Zion there shall be those who escape, and it shall be holy, and the house of Jacob shall possess their own possessions."
Even in their darkest hour, with Jerusalem destroyed and many in exile, God promises three crucial things:
A remnant will survive - "those who escape." No matter how complete the destruction seems, God always preserves a remnant of His people.
Holiness will be restored - "it shall be holy." The temple may be destroyed, but God's holiness will return to His people and His place.
What was lost will be regained - "possess their own possessions." Everything that was stolen, everything that was lost, will be restored.
Verse 18 uses fire imagery to describe Israel's restoration: "The house of Jacob shall be a fire, and the house of Joseph a flame, and the house of Esau stubble; they shall burn them and consume them."
This is a complete reversal of the situation in Obadiah's day. When Jerusalem fell, Israel seemed like stubble before the flame of their enemies. But God promises that the tables will turn. Israel will become the fire, and their oppressors will become the stubble.
Verses 19-20 describe territorial expansion and restoration that would have seemed impossible to Obadiah's original audience. The exiles scattered to distant lands would return and possess not only their original territories but also lands that had belonged to their enemies. This had both literal fulfillment in Israel's return from exile and points toward God's ultimate restoration of His people.
Then comes the grand finale in verse 21: "Saviors shall go up to Mount Zion to rule Mount Esau, and the kingdom shall be the Lord's."
This tiny book ends with an absolutely expansive vision. The "saviors" (or deliverers) going up to Mount Zion represent God's people being restored to positions of leadership and authority. They will even rule over Mount Esau - the very people who oppressed them will come under their authority. But the ultimate declaration is this: "the kingdom shall be the Lord's."
All of history, all of human government, all earthly kingdoms are moving toward this one goal - the complete establishment of God's kingdom where He rules perfectly, justly, and eternally.
Think about that for a moment. When Obadiah wrote these words, Israel was at rock bottom. Their city was destroyed, their temple was in ruins, their people were scattered as exiles, and their enemies were celebrating. It would have been easy to conclude that God had abandoned them, that their story was over, that evil had won.
But God says, "This isn't the end of the story. This is just a chapter. The kingdom shall be the Lord's."
How does knowing that history ultimately ends with God's kingdom fully established change how you view the injustice and suffering in our world today? How does it affect your response to your own trials and setbacks?
When we know that the final chapter is already written, when we know that God's kingdom will ultimately triumph over every form of evil and injustice, it gives us both patience and purpose. Patience to endure temporary injustice knowing it truly is temporary. And purpose to represent God's kingdom values right now, in the midst of a broken world.
The Gospel Connection: How Obadiah Points to Jesus
Now, you might be wondering: "This is a powerful message about pride and justice and God's kingdom, but how does this ancient prophecy about Edom connect to the gospel? How does it point to Jesus?"
Great question! Obadiah points forward to Jesus in some profound ways that transform how we understand this prophecy and apply it to our lives.
The Contrast of Pride and Humility
First, consider the stark contrast between Edom's pride and Christ's humility. Edom was brought down from their mountain fortress because they exalted themselves, because they said, "Who will bring me down to the ground?" They trusted in their own strength and security.
But look at Jesus. Philippians 2:6-8 tells us that Jesus, "though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross."
Where Edom said, "Who will bring me down?" Jesus voluntarily came down. Where Edom sought self-preservation at others' expense, Jesus gave Himself for others' salvation. Where Edom's pride led to destruction, Christ's humility led to exaltation - not just for Himself, but for all who follow Him.
The pattern is clear throughout Scripture: pride leads to downfall, but humility leads to honor. Jesus perfectly embodies this principle, and He calls us to follow His example.
Justice and Mercy Meet at the Cross
Second, Jesus fulfills Obadiah's vision of both judgment and mercy in a way that no human court could ever accomplish. The "Day of the Lord" that would devastate Edom points forward to God's ultimate judgment of all sin and injustice. Every wrong will be made right, every evil will be punished, every injustice will be corrected.
Yet at the cross, Jesus took that judgment on Himself. As Isaiah 53:5 puts it, "He was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed."
Through Christ, God's justice and mercy meet perfectly. Sin is judged completely and appropriately - but it's judged in Christ rather than in us. The cross is simultaneously the greatest demonstration of God's justice (sin must be punished) and His love (He takes the punishment Himself).
This means that everyone who has ever been wronged can know that justice will ultimately be done. Every perpetrator will either face judgment themselves or find forgiveness through Christ's substitutionary sacrifice. Either way, justice is satisfied.
The Kingdom Has Come and Is Coming
Third, Jesus inaugurates the kingdom that Obadiah foresaw. When Jesus began His ministry in Mark 1:15, He announced, "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand. Repent and believe in the gospel." What Obadiah saw in the distance - "the kingdom shall be the Lord's" - Jesus began to establish.
But this kingdom doesn't look like worldly kingdoms. It doesn't come through force but through service, not through domination but through sacrifice. Yet it is more powerful and more enduring than any earthly empire because it operates on entirely different principles.
In God's kingdom, the last are first, enemies are loved, sinners are forgiven, and service is true greatness. When we embrace these counterintuitive values, we're not just being nice people - we're representing God's eternal kingdom in our present world.
Jesus taught us to pray, "Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven." This prayer echoes Obadiah's final vision - a world completely under God's righteous rule, where His will is done perfectly.
The Already and Not Yet
The kingdom that Obadiah glimpsed is both already here and still coming. It's already here because Jesus has established it and we can live according to its values right now. It's still coming because it hasn't yet been fully realized throughout all creation.
One day, as Revelation 11:15 declares, "The kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ, and he shall reign forever and ever." Every knee will bow, every tongue will confess, and God's rule will be complete and unchallenged.
So Obadiah isn't just about ancient nations and old grievances. It's about the pride in our hearts, the injustice in our world, and the King who will make all things right. It's about a God who sees every betrayal, judges every act of oppression, and promises ultimate restoration for all who trust in Him.
Living Obadiah's Message Today
So how do we live out Obadiah's message in our daily lives? Let me challenge you with three practical applications that flow directly from this prophecy:
1. Examine Your Fortress
What are you trusting in besides God? Where might pride be deceiving you into thinking you're more secure than you actually are?
Edom trusted in their mountain strongholds and political alliances, but these ultimately failed them when God's judgment came. We often trust in our own versions of mountain fortresses - and again, many of these aren't necessarily wrong in themselves:
Financial security and investment portfolios
Professional achievements and career advancement
Social connections and networking
Educational credentials and expertise
Technology and modern conveniences
Health and fitness regimens
Political systems and national power
The question isn't whether these things are good or bad - many of them are wise and beneficial. The question is whether they've become your primary source of security, whether you've started to think, "Who will bring me down?" because of these human accomplishments.
Take a moment right now for some honest self-examination: What might be your "mountain fortress" - the thing you're tempted to trust more than God? What gives you that sense of "I've got this handled" that might be blinding you to your continued need for divine grace and protection?
As Proverbs 16:18 warns us, "Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall." The antidote to pride isn't self-loathing or false humility - it's proper perspective. It's recognizing both our limitations and God's limitless power. It's admitting our need for God and others rather than projecting an image of self-sufficiency.
2. Stand with Your Brother
Unlike Edom, who abandoned and exploited their brother nation in crisis, we're called to stand with those who suffer, especially when it's costly or inconvenient for us to do so.
Who might God be calling you to help this week? Who around you is experiencing their own version of Jerusalem's fall - a health crisis, financial setback, relational breakdown, or spiritual struggle?
Obadiah condemns not just active violence but passive indifference. As Martin Luther King Jr. said, "In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends." Who needs you to break your silence and stand with them?
This might mean:
Offering practical help to someone in crisis
Speaking up against injustice when you see it
Simply being present with someone in pain
Using your resources to support those who have less
Advocating for those who don't have a voice
Moving toward suffering rather than away from it
Think specifically: Is there someone in your life right now who is going through a difficult time? Someone who might feel abandoned or forgotten? Someone who needs to know they're not alone in their struggle?
Unlike Edom, we're called to be people who rush toward crisis rather than away from it, who see others' pain as an opportunity to demonstrate God's love rather than as an inconvenience to avoid.
3. Live as Kingdom Citizens
If "the kingdom shall be the Lord's," how should that reality shape your priorities, decisions, and relationships this week?
Jesus began His ministry announcing that the kingdom of God had arrived, and He taught us to "seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness" (Matthew 6:33). Living as kingdom citizens means allowing God's values and priorities to shape our daily choices, even when those values conflict with the world's priorities.
In God's kingdom:
The last are first, so we serve rather than demand to be served
Enemies are loved, so we respond to hostility with grace
Sinners are forgiven, so we extend mercy rather than judgment
Greatness is defined by service, not by power or position
Justice and mercy go hand in hand
The weak are protected and valued
Truth is more important than personal advantage
When we embody these counterintuitive values, we're not just being good people - we're representing God's coming kingdom in our present world. We're declaring through our actions what Obadiah declared in words: "The kingdom shall be the Lord's."
What might it look like for you to prioritize God's kingdom in your decisions this week? How might you demonstrate kingdom values in your family, your workplace, your community?
Every time we choose forgiveness over revenge, generosity over greed, service over self-promotion, or truth over personal advantage, we're living as citizens of God's kingdom. We're showing the world what it looks like when God's will is done on earth as it is in heaven.
When the Story Seems to End Badly
Here's something crucial to understand about Obadiah's message: this prophecy was written when it looked like the bad guys had won. Jerusalem was destroyed, God's people were scattered, and their enemies were celebrating. If you had been living in Obadiah's day, you might have concluded that God had abandoned His people, that justice was a myth, that evil had triumphed.
But God says through Obadiah: "This isn't the end of the story. The kingdom shall be the Lord's."
Maybe you're in a season right now where it feels like the bad guys are winning. Maybe you're watching injustice triumph, seeing evil people prosper while good people suffer. Maybe you're personally experiencing betrayal from someone who should have stood with you. Maybe you're tempted to conclude that God isn't really in control, that justice is just a nice idea that doesn't work in the real world.
Obadiah reminds us that our perspective is limited, but God's plan is eternal. What looks like defeat may be setting up an even greater victory. What appears to be the end of the story may just be the end of a chapter.
The cross itself looked like defeat - God's own Son dying as a criminal, His followers scattered, His enemies celebrating. But that apparent defeat was actually the greatest victory in human history, the moment when sin and death and Satan himself were decisively defeated.
So when you're tempted to despair, when it looks like evil is winning and justice is nowhere to be found, remember Obadiah's message: "The kingdom shall be the Lord's." God sees what you're going through. He knows about the betrayals you've experienced. He hasn't forgotten the injustices you've suffered. And He will make all things right in His time and in His way.
The Danger of Spiritual Pride
Before we wrap up, I want to address one more crucial application that emerges from Obadiah's message. There's a particular danger that those of us in the church need to be especially aware of: spiritual pride.
You see, it's easy to read Obadiah's condemnation of Edom and think, "Well, thank goodness I'm not like them. I would never betray my brother in crisis. I would never celebrate when someone else suffers." But that attitude itself can become a form of the very pride that Obadiah condemns.
Remember, Edom was descended from Esau, who was Isaac's son, Abraham's grandson. They had a spiritual heritage. They knew about the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. They weren't ignorant pagans - they were family members who had access to the truth but chose to reject it.
Similarly, those of us who have grown up in the church, who know the Bible, who understand theology, can sometimes develop a spiritual pride that's just as dangerous as Edom's geographical pride. We can start to think:
"I know the Bible better than others"
"I've been faithful longer than others"
"I would never make the mistakes I see other people making"
"God is more pleased with me because of my spiritual knowledge or religious performance"
This spiritual pride can make us just as hard-hearted toward suffering people as Edom was toward Judah. We can become the priest and Levite who pass by on the other side, convinced that the person in need somehow deserves their situation or should handle it themselves.
Jesus addressed this directly in Luke 18 with His parable of the Pharisee and tax collector. The Pharisee prayed, "God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector." His spiritual knowledge and religious observance had bred pride, not humility.
Obadiah's message applies to us too: "The pride of your heart has deceived you." Whether it's pride in our geographical security, our financial stability, our professional achievements, or our spiritual knowledge, pride is pride, and it leads to the same destination - a fall.
The antidote is the same humility that Jesus demonstrated: recognizing our complete dependence on God's grace, our ongoing need for His mercy, and our calling to serve others rather than lord it over them.
Questions for Personal Reflection
As we begin to draw this study to a close, let me leave you with some questions for personal reflection. Don't try to answer these quickly or superficially. Take them home with you. Pray about them. Let the Holy Spirit search your heart through these questions:
About Pride and Security:
What are you most tempted to trust in besides God?
Where do you catch yourself thinking, "I've got this handled" or "Who can bring me down?"
How might God be calling you to hold your earthly securities more lightly?
About Brotherhood and Community:
Who are the "brothers" and "sisters" God has placed in your life?
Is there someone currently going through crisis who needs your support?
When have you been guilty of "standing aloof" when you should have stepped in to help?
How might your comfort or convenience be preventing you from standing with those who suffer?
About Justice and Mercy:
Are there areas where you've been betrayed that you need to surrender to God's justice?
How does knowing that "the kingdom shall be the Lord's" affect your response to current injustices?
Where might you need to extend mercy to others, even when they don't deserve it?
About Kingdom Living:
What would it look like for you to prioritize God's kingdom over earthly kingdoms this week?
How might you demonstrate kingdom values in your relationships, work, and community involvement?
What needs to change in your life for others to see glimpses of God's coming kingdom through your actions?
The Smallest Book with the Biggest Vision
We've been exploring the smallest book in the Old Testament, but Obadiah offers one of the biggest visions in all of Scripture. In just 21 verses, this prophecy takes us from the most intimate family betrayal to the ultimate establishment of God's kingdom over all creation.
Obadiah speaks to the human condition at its worst - pride that blinds us to our need for God, betrayal that breaks the most fundamental bonds of community, injustice that makes us question whether righteousness matters at all. But it also points to God's character at its best - His justice that ensures no wrong goes unpunished, His mercy that restores what was lost, His sovereignty that guarantees the final victory of good over evil.
The message sustained Israel in their darkest hour when everything seemed lost, and it can sustain us today when we face our own seasons of betrayal, injustice, and seeming defeat. No matter what mountain of opposition stands before you, what betrayal you've experienced, or what loss you're grieving, Obadiah reminds us that God sees, God cares, God acts, and God wins.
This prophetic vision finds its ultimate fulfillment in Jesus Christ, who:
Humbled Himself where Edom exalted themselves
Bore God's judgment so we could receive mercy
Established the kingdom that will one day encompass all creation
Demonstrated perfect love for enemies rather than betrayal of brothers
The smallest book offers the biggest promise: a world where pride is humbled, injustice is judged, God's people are restored, and "the kingdom shall be the Lord's."
A Final Word of Hope
Let me close with this thought: Obadiah was written in one of the darkest moments in Israel's history. The temple was destroyed, the people were scattered, their enemies were celebrating, and hope seemed dead. Into that darkness, God spoke these words of judgment and promise.
If you're in your own dark moment right now - if you're dealing with betrayal, injustice, loss, or despair - remember that God often speaks His clearest words of hope into our deepest darkness. The people who first heard Obadiah's prophecy couldn't see how God could possibly restore what had been lost. But God's vision extends far beyond our limited perspective.
"The kingdom shall be the Lord's." That's not just a nice sentiment or wishful thinking - that's the guaranteed outcome of human history. Every throne will bow, every crown will be surrendered, every opposing kingdom will fall, and God will reign supreme.
Until that day comes, we're called to live as citizens of that coming kingdom, representing its values in a broken world, standing with those who suffer, humbling ourselves before the God who lifts up the humble, and trusting that no matter how dark things get, the final chapter has already been written.
The kingdom shall be the Lord's. That's Obadiah's message to Israel in exile, and it's God's message to you today. Whatever you're facing, however hopeless things seem, remember that this isn't the end of the story. God's kingdom is coming, God's justice will prevail, and God's people will be restored.
Hold onto that hope. Live in that reality. And let it transform how you respond to pride, how you treat others in crisis, and how you view the injustices of this present world.
