Wonders For Oyarsa

New Beginnings and Endings?

2010-08-20T22:40:00.002-04:00

Hello Everyone,

Not that the WFO blog has been particularly busy for the past few...um...years, but I fear it is about to become even less so. The reason is that the WFO family is about to move to East Asia for a four-year term doing Christian cross-cultural work. Be praying for us, please, and feel free to shoot me an email if you'd like to hear more about what we're up to.

I'm a little sad that I didn't finish the Bible blogging project, but I'm not totally ruling out the possibility of coming back to it when I have more time. To all my many conversation partners in this journey, I offer heartfelt thanks!

The God Who Takes Sides

2010-01-03T02:30:00.014-05:00

I suppose I'll break my months of blog silence to do another movie review. I really can't resist, since Avatar brings out so many scriptural themes for me that I've addressed on this blog. Since I discuss major themes in depth, this will probably be a "spoiler" review. If you didn't want to know that the good guys win in the end, read no further! It probably would make more sense reading all this if you'd already seen the movie anyway.

The movie does an amazing job with seamlessly integrating 3D generated characters with live actors. And the artistic accomplishment really is breathtaking. By the way, please allow me a brief tangent. As someone who knows at least a little bit about computer graphics (read: master's degree), it is a little annoying to hear viewers praising the computer technology for works of art like this. It's as if someone, upon seeing Michelangelo's David, lauded the amazing developments in renaissance stone quarrying and the innovative toolsmithery of Florentine sculpting chisels. Yes, their work is important - especially insofar as Michelangelo might have needed people to develop new tools especially for him. But the vast bulk of the praise should go to the artists - for their vision, and for the long long hours of meticulous work! Every bit of terrain, every character, every glorious fantastic landscape shot represents weeks of work by artists: drawing concepts on paper, sculpting in 3D, painting with textures, carefully crafting the right lighting, rigging the characters for animation with skeletons, bringing them to life with motion capture combined with traditional keyframe animation techniques, and sending it all back to the drawing board after intense critiques. The brilliant technical work of the computer toolsmiths who work alongside them also deserves high praise, and none of this would be possible without the hardware architecture that gives us better materials each year. But to hear some people talk, you'd think the computer did all the work. Folks seem to imagine that technology involves pushing a button and getting the computer to spit out breathtaking images of cinematic art. It just ain't like that.

Anyway, the story is basically Dances with Wolves in space - which you can get from viewing the trailer. The human presence arrives at the planet Pandora in the form of a mining expedition for some Earth-based corporation. The expedition includes a private army to oversee the mining efforts. The alien natives (the Na'vi) have the beliefs, values, and culture similar to many of the indigenous North American tribes who were forced off their land by, well, us ethnically English North Americans. In this movie, the humans also want some "Unobtainium" lying conviniently under the Na'vi's sacred giant tree dwelling, so the Na'vi need to go.

The technologically superior humans also know how to create Na'vi bodies and drive them around remotely as "avatars". Thus Jake, the protagonist, infiltrates the tribe to gain intelligence on them. However, as he is immersed in their tribal way of life (with all its pantheism and reverence to the land), he becomes more and more sympathetic to them. Finally, Jake decides to join the Na'vi, and help them fight off their cruel invaders. By the end of the movie, we are all cheering as the brave, spiritual, noble savages fight off our godless technological behemoths, and avenge us for the cruel ravaging of their homeland and loved ones.

As I sat in a theater built atop the lands of displaced peoples, I couldn't help but think of Jesus' words:

Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you build the tombs of the prophets and decorate the monuments of the righteous, saying, ‘If we had lived in the days of our fathers, we would not have taken part with them in shedding the blood of the prophets.’ Thus you witness against yourselves that you are sons of those who murdered the prophets. Fill up, then, the measure of your fathers. You serpents, you brood of vipers, how are you to escape being sentenced to hell? Therefore I send you prophets and wise men and scribes, some of whom you will kill and crucify, and some you will flog in your synagogues and persecute from town to town, so that on you may come all the righteous blood shed on earth, from the blood of innocent Abel to the blood of Zechariah the son of Barachiah, whom you murdered between the sanctuary and the altar. Truly, I say to you, all these things will come upon this generation.

I don't have the wisdom to truly say where we may be filling up the measure of our fathers. It takes a lot of clarity and vision to judge these things rightly. From what I understand, it seems to me that the destruction of the Appalachian mountains and the devastation of the communities thereof might be a step in that direction. Regarding past atrocities, I realize that people rightly weary of guilty feelings about things we didn't do, as well as reparations for sins of their fathers that seem to perpetuate and enable other problems. Repentance is something deeper than this. It involves not vilifying our fathers as if they were unrecognizable monsters (as if no noble savage ever scalped their helpless, screaming wives), nor paying indulgences to assuage our guilt, but rather seeing our face in them and theirs in ours so that we may recognize our own subtle sins that we are blind to.

This wasn't, however, the most interesting thing about the movie to me. Even more interesting was James Cameron's praising of the Na'vi's pantheistic religion as the root of their harmony with nature. I don't know his religious and political views, but I'd venture a guess that Cameron is socially liberal and would perhaps describe himself as "not religious, but spiritual". He probably would decry the "intolerance of Abrahamic religions" in contrast to the richer spirituality of the noble savage. I'm totally stereotyping, and feel free to call me out if I'm missing the mark. But if this is true (and I'm almost certain my prejudice is correct), then I don't know if I've ever seen a more unintentionally ironic movie as James Cameron's Avatar.

In a moving scene, Jake prays to Eywa and the Tree of Souls for the salvation of the Na'vi. Neytiri comes up behind him and says that this won't work - Eywa doesn't take sides, as no true pantheistic deity ever would. Russ Douthat does a great job in this New York Times editorial in questioning the comfort of this pantheism, but I don't think he quite sees the full irony of James Cameron's movie. For, despite all his best efforts at lip service to pantheism, the author of Avatar is telling a fundamentally Judeo-Christian story.

If Eywa doesn't take sides, then the God of Avatar is none other than the Lord, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, keeping steadfast love for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, but who will by no means clear the guilty, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children and the children's children, to the third and the fourth generation. The God of this movie is a God who has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts; he has brought down the mighty from their thrones and exalted those of humble estate. He is near to the Na'vi when they call on him. When in the time of their suffering the Na'vi cried out to him, he heard them from heaven, and according to his great mercies he gave them a savior who saved them from the hand of their enemies. His servant was slow of speech and tongue; he had no form or majesty that they should look at him, and no beauty that they should desire him. He was despised and rejected by his people when he sought to warn them of the folly of their ways, and strung up on a tree. He was then left for dead. But then before all the people he was revealed in glory, that at the name of Jake all the Na'vi would bow, and every tongue confess that he is their savior. In him their arrows would slay gunships, like David laying low the giant. The proud and the powerful would be cast down, and the meek would inherit Pandora.

Folks, I don't intend any insult to pantheists. Their view of the world has coherence to it; it rings true to much experience of the natural world. But this is simply isn't the sort of story true pantheists (as opposed to PINOs) tell. Watching Avatar isn't, for instance, like watching the haunting, beautiful, and deeply Buddhist (and therefore, to a Christian, alien, bewildering, and utterly unredemptive) movie Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter... and Spring. But this story is an awful lot like the stories we read in the Bible, over, and over, and over again.

Doubt and Faith

2009-08-02T02:53:00.006-04:00

My wife and I saw John Patrick Shanley's "Doubt" tonight - an excellent movie based on a presumably excellent play. The movie is set in a Catholic school in 1964, where a nun suspects that a priest is having an inappropriate relationship with an alter boy. It's hard to do the movie justice in this simple description - how we grow to initially hate the harsh nun and sympathize with the priest, and then grow to suspect the priest, and finally are left with doubts about the very possibility of certainty in our convictions. When it was over, my wife and I were drawn into an hour of intense conversation about faith and doubt, which I think (judging from this interview at Christianity today) is precisely what the author intended. I don't know that I recall ever seeing a move where I might fundamentally disagree with the premise, and yet am so grateful for the way the issues were raised that I want to recommend it to others.

I mention it here because honesty with my doubts has been a very real theme for this blog. So Shanley's message on one level is something I heartily appreciate. Yet I think there is also something very important missing, leaving what remains potentially insidious. Consider Shanley's article in the LA Times concerning his play:

There is an uneasy time when belief has begun to slip, but hypocrisy has yet to take hold, when the consciousness is disturbed but not yet altered. It is the most dangerous, important and ongoing experience of life. The beginning of change is the moment of Doubt. It is that crucial moment when I renew my humanity or become a lie.

Doubt requires more courage than conviction does, and more energy; because conviction is a resting place and doubt is infinite; it is a passionate exercise. You may come out of my play uncertain. You may want to be sure. Look down on that feeling. We've got to learn to live with a full measure of uncertainty. There is no last word. That's the silence under the chatter of our time.

I know exactly what Shanley is talking about. I grew up an evangelical, with a sprinkling here and there of fundamentalism. We most certainly weren’t fundamentalists – by which I mean those who think drinking is a sin, read only the KJV, sing only old hymns, and are afraid of nearly every bit of modern culture as being from the devil. But I was raised in an evangelicalism that assumed a rather rigid inerrancy of the Bible, and thus often (though not always) insisted on things like literal six-day creationism.

There was, in this, a subtle fear. The rock of our faith was the truth of the Bible, and with it came a fear that the picture the Bible painted might not be true. A single inaccuracy, a single contradiction, and the whole thing would collapse like a house of card (or a house built foolishly on the sand). So, for instance, evolution had to be false – otherwise everything we believed in was false.

This fear and anxiety would crop up every time the evolutionary picture was shown in all of its museum or textbook confidence. A similar fear would arise when I would hear about the inner workings of the brain explaining the experience of the soul. There had to be a distinction where the spiritual things broke in and were themselves unexplainable. And so these troubling things needed to be pushed out of mind.

The mind, I think, can sense dissonance and contradiction. When logic is leading to undesired conclusions, the mind can short circuit the process and warn, “don’t go there” pretty much unconsciously. Thus we can quickly be redirected to some foundational argument which we know shows evolution to be false or the spiritual to be irreducible to matter.

I remember hearing in college about there being a genuine contradiction between the New Testament’s account of David and Abiathar vs. the Old Testament one. And I was ready with a retort and rationalization – anything that preserved the inerrancy of scripture. I’ve experienced similar (though less intense) feelings and rationalizations when coming to parts of the Bible that contradicted my own theology. The thoughts needed to be put out of mind, or a quick-fix solution needed to fit right into place.

This sort of half-conscious self-deception, I’m convinced, exists almost everywhere, in almost any context. We must have coherence and consistency, and so uncomfortable things get quickly pushed aside.

So I hope no one can accuse me of being unsympathetic to Shanley. I get it; I really do. But he seems to me to be missing something crucial. He's missing the virtue that makes all this doubt worth the effort. He's missing faith.

It may sound strange to talk of faith and doubt existing in harmony, and even mutual support. To be sure, there exists a "faith" that is exactly the kind of deceptive certainty that Shanley sees enslaving us. The certainty of self-deception is like the alcoholic who refuses to believe he has a real drinking problem, or the pornographer who insists that this is an isolated personal vice that doesn't really affect his marriage. No evidence can break through such certainty, until perhaps the consequences are so severe to force the man to accept the truth. But true faith is more like the confidence of the allied soldiers in the Japanese prison camps whose desperate clinging to the dignity of their country was literally a matter of life and death. There is a faith that sets us free - yes, free even to doubt.

I felt this desire for true faith throughout my upbringing, not least at the alter call. If a man actually wants to encounter God, he doesn’t want to content himself with a mind trick. The classic yielding of a man to the will to God – of surrendering his life’s ambitions, hopes and plans – screams against self-deception. In encountering God, he is encountering reality itself. Here things are not supposed to be comfortable. Illusions are supposed to be shattered. Huge commitments are supposed to be put aside. New doubts in past certainties are to be embraced as God's own loving intervention for the salvation of our souls.

Thus faith, rightly considered, is the solution to fearful self-deception. Faith assumes that God’s truth is greater than us, that all truth is God’s truth, and that we have nothing to fear from knowing truth. In my experience, whenever my cherished beliefs are finally challenged, I have been given something richer in its place.

Here's the irony that Shanley seems to miss. When we are advised to doubt everything, to throw off all certainty whatsoever, we are left only with paralyzing nihilism and despair. We cannot use these doubts to "renew our humanity" when that humanity itself is in question. Rather, it is when we believe, deep in the core of our being, that God is good, that his will for us is good, that there is a fundamental truth, beauty, and goodness to which all things are accountable, that we are finally free to no longer hide from our doubts. Life is full of ambiguity and inconsistency; we may embrace the full measure of our smallness and ignorance. This faith gives real courage to grab hold of these uncertainties and break out of our isolating and deceptive prisons.

Lord, increase our faith! Let all that can be shaken be shaken. Let the chaff be burned away.

Dante's Inferno and the Justice of God

2009-07-20T21:40:00.006-04:00

For some light pleasure reading lately (in all my copious spare time since I never seem to blog anymore), I’ve been working my way through Anthony Esolen’s recent translation of Dante’s Inferno. Having thoroughly enjoyed Dr. Esolen’s articles in Touchstone magazine over the years (this is one of my favorites), I jumped at this chance to hear this eloquent traditional Catholic retell a medieval classic. With this edition fully illustrated by none other than Gustave Dore, what’s not to like?

Well, there is Hell, which I suppose is precisely the point. Dante’s depiction of Hell is none other than sin unmasked, where the damned receive “poetic justice”. Here they suffer not so much “for” their sins as “by” them. Those who couldn’t control their lustful desires now whirl through the air in a ferocious but aimless tornado. Those whose divisive influence split families and nations now find their own bodies sliced apart. In one of the most memorable images to me, the lukewarm in life are abandoned to the abyss between Heaven and Hell; neither will take them.

The doctrine of Hell is more unpopular and incomprehensible to people today than in past centuries. The objections are obvious and forceful. What could a person (even Hitler) ever accomplish in a few short years to actually deserve eternal torment? This insistence on measured justice resonates with my own soul, but I fear hidden within our laxity is a trivialization of the lives we live and the people we become. There are no insignificant moments or choices - for all we know with modern science, the only real meaning in the entire universe lies within them. And what a universe is man! Somehow I know that there truly is a sense in which the slightest impiety to God or callousness to a neighbor from such a magnificent creature must merit everlasting fire prepared for the Devil and his angels. There is an ironic dignity to Hell - that the heart of man really is infinite, and thus accomplishes heights of good and depths of evil beyond the tepid expectations of modern culture. I revere humanity too much to be a universalist.

But there is something that deeply troubles me about the Inferno, and yes, even about Dr. Esolen’s commentary. We begin to get hints of it in Dr. Esolen’s introduction:

Now it is one thing to analyze what justice is: the giving of each his due (as Dante, following Aristotle, would have said), or the treating of everyone identically (as with less complexity and a shakier hold on human affairs we ourselves would say). It is another thing to hunger and thirst for justice, and to put the expression of one’s hunger and thirst under such severe artistic restraints that their well-directed force causes one’s readers to hunger and thirst for justice too.

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be satisfied”, and thus St. Thomas Aquinas said that one of the pleasures of heaven is seeing the punishment of the damned. Therefore, a true hunger and thirst for justice is a hunger for Hell. Taking a cue, I think, from the scripture’s language about the divine wisdom, Dante inscribes these famous words on the gates of Hell:

I am the way into the city of woe,
I am the way into eternal pain,
I am the way to go among the lost.
Justice caused my high architect to move:
divine omnipotence created me,
the highest wisdom and the primal love.
Before me there were no created things
but those that last forever - as do I.
Abandon all hope you who enter here.

Before all worlds, God made Hell, and saw that it was good? Here I’m beginning to squirm - there is something about all this that doesn’t seem quite right. Is not Hell the very stronghold whose gates the Church was to knock down? Dante pays lip service to Christ’s descent into Hell, but here he only skims the surface to pull the Old Testament saints from Limbo. After all, if Hell ain’t broke, Jesus don’t need to fix it.

If Hell is the justice of God we should long for, what should our attitude be toward the damned? If Dante is to be any guide, we are to suppress our natural weakness of mercy and look upon them with the cold satisfaction that justice is being done. After all, are we more merciful than God? Over and over again, Dante is encouraged to harden his heart toward those in Hell, that his heart may reflect the heart of God.

There is a passage early on in the Inferno, where Dante observes a formerly arrogant ruler wallowing in a sea of filth with countless others. The man tries to grab the boat Dante and Virgil ride, and is shoved back into the muck.

“Teacher, I’ve got a hankering,” said I,
“to see them dunk that spirit in this swill
before we leave the lake and disembark.”
And he replied, “You will enjoy your fill
before the farther beach comes into sight.
Such a desire is good to satisfy.”

Good to satisfy indeed. For Dante’s logic seems inexorable to me:

You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you’ But I say to you, love the saints and hate the damned, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he exalts the good to paradise and condemns the evil to perdition.

The Jewish martyrs in the book of Maccabees hurled insults at their tormentors, looking forward for the day when God, in his justice, would avenge their blood. But Jesus prayed for their forgiveness, as did St. Stephen following in his footsteps. Is the love and mercy of God something temporary - a matter of economy for the present dispensation while we see through a glass darkly? May it never be!

The problem with Dante’s justice in the Inferno is that it doesn’t see beyond justice as “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth”, or “the giving of each his due”. The justice we are to long for in Christ is a higher justice than this - not of equality or retribution, but of restoration. For the Lord himself says:

Have I any pleasure in the death of the wicked, declares the Lord God, and not rather that he should turn from his way and live?

Did Abraham content himself with the justice of God when he heard the news about Sodom? Did Moses when it was announced that Israel would be destroyed? No, my soul, there must be no satisfaction with Hell. I said at the outset that I am not a universalist - I reject any trite doctrine that says all will be saved. But I absolutely hope that all may be saved; I pray that all may be saved; I hunger and thirst, not for everyone to receive their due, but for all things to be made new.

In closing, I’ll see Dante’s St. Thomas Aquinas, and raise him St. John Chrysostom on Hell and its just claim upon men in taking its due:

He destroyed Hell when He descended into it.
He put it into an uproar even as it tasted of His flesh.
Isaiah foretold this when he said,
“You, O Hell, have been troubled by encountering Him below.”

Hell was in an uproar because it was done away with.
It was in an uproar because it is mocked.
It was in an uproar, for it is destroyed.
It is in an uproar, for it is annihilated.
It is in an uproar, for it is now made captive.

Hell took a body, and discovered God.
It took earth, and encountered Heaven.
It took what it saw, and was overcome by what it did not see.

O death, where is thy sting?
O Hell, where is thy victory?

Christ is Risen, and you, o death, are annihilated!
Christ is Risen, and the evil ones are cast down!
Christ is Risen, and the angels rejoice!
Christ is Risen, and life is liberated!
Christ is Risen, and the tomb is emptied of its dead;
for Christ having risen from the dead,
is become the first-fruits of those who have fallen asleep.

The Kings of the Earth and the Lord's Annointed (Revelation 2-5)

2008-11-06T10:51:00.008-05:00

The church in John’s day is not unlike the church in many countries of the world today, and throughout history. Christians exist in empires who unashamedly trumpet their authority to rule the world as they see fit. When the church is not being actively persecuted, it is marginalized. They simply don’t matter. It is this church – the suffering and insignificant church of the first century – who first receives John’s vision of Jesus, “the ruler of kings on earth.”

To these churches, John transcribes seven letters with one message. Some are sterner than others, but the thrust is the same. Here’s the letter to Thyatira:

I know your works, your love and faith and service and patient endurance, and that your latter works exceed the first. But I have this against you, that you tolerate that woman Jezebel, who calls herself a prophetess and is teaching and seducing my servants to practice sexual immorality and to eat food sacrificed to idols. I gave her time to repent, but she refuses to repent of her sexual immorality. Behold, I will throw her onto a sickbed, and those who commit adultery with her I will throw into great tribulation, unless they repent of her works, and I will strike her children dead. And all the churches will know that I am he who searches mind and heart, and I will give to each of you according to your works. But to the rest of you in Thyatira, who do not hold this teaching, who have not learned what some call the deep things of Satan, to you I say, I do not lay on you any other burden. Only hold fast what you have until I come. The one who conquers and who keeps my works until the end, to him I will give authority over the nations, and he will rule them with a rod of iron, as when earthen pots are broken in pieces, even as I myself have received authority from my Father. And I will give him the morning star. He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.’

There’s recognition of their works and perseverance, and stern warnings against their complacency and compromise. The church is implored to stick it out under pain just a little longer until the Lord comes. The church that conquers will be given authority over the very nations where it now suffers – to smash them into bits.

The number seven is the number of creation. It is used in scripture to imply “fullness” and “completion”, and so I think it no stretch whatsoever to understand this urgent message sent to “seven churches” as meant for the entire church. If we mean to take John’s unmistakable urgency seriously, then let it be clear - these letters are to us. It is we who must persevere amidst empires who are glad to run the world in rebellion against God and oppression of man. It is we who are tempted to compromise and collude with the destructive idolatry that we find ourselves in. It is we who are urged to conquer, and dash the nations into pieces with a rod of iron.

So, what are we waiting for? Time to strap on our swords and crush our enemies for the kingdom of God! But not so fast. Unless we are to make the same mistake as the Jews in Jesus’ day, we need to be careful to understand that the ruler of kings on earth whom we serve has radically redefined what it means to conquer and wield authority, and given us very counter-intuitive stories about how his kingdom comes.

The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them, and those in authority over them are called benefactors. But not so with you. Rather, let the greatest among you become as the youngest, and the leader as one who serves. For who is the greater, one who reclines at table or one who serves? Is it not the one who reclines at table? But I am among you as the one who serves.

And again:

He said therefore, “What is the kingdom of God like? And to what shall I compare it? It is like a grain of mustard seed that a man took and sowed in his garden, and it grew and became a tree, and the birds of the air made nests in its branches.” And again he said, “To what shall I compare the kingdom of God? It is like leaven that a woman took and hid in three measures of flour, until it was all leavened.”

And again:

Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.

Lest we have any doubt of the means to the end, John gives us a vivid glimpse into the heavenly reality behind the world. He sees a scroll of the purposes of God sealed up, with none worthy to take and reveal. It is then announced that the “lion” of the tribe of Judah has conquered and is worthy. But John sees not a lion, but a slaughtered lamb standing there. And then he hears the chorus:

Worthy are you to take the scroll and to open its seals, for you were slain, and by your blood you ransomed people for God from every tribe and language and people and nation, and you have made them a kingdom and priests to our God, and they shall reign on the earth.

The lamb has conquered by being slaughtered. Jesus disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, triumphing over them by his cross. The church in John’s day conquered the greatest empire in the world has ever seen, dashing its power to pieces by their patient and loving endurance to suffering and death and their willingness to forgive their enemies. And we are called to do likewise with an urgency that cannot be exaggerated.

Our king is coming, even as we speak.

The Glory of Jesus (Revelation 1)

2008-11-02T21:21:00.005-05:00

Revelation has an unmistakable air of both urgency and timelessness to it. Everything mentioned is said to be immanent. John is writing about “the things that must soon take place” and we are exhorted to heed his words “for the time is near.” The reader gets this sense that he will hardly have time to hear the message before it all comes to pass. And yet the message is as timeless and all encompassing as its source. The alpha and omega, the one who was, is, and is to come, tells John to “write therefore the things that you have seen, those that are and those that are to take place after this.”

This must surely challenge some common evangelical attitudes towards Revelation. On the one hand, the book is thought to be written for people a long time ago – these seven churches in the early days. On the other hand, the book is thought to be about the things that will happen at the end of time, and of use largely in preparing us in the event that we are living in the last days. Yet the book itself seems to make very little distinction between what was, what is, and what is to come. It is, after all, the same Jesus who is the center of all these things.

The book begins with a stunning vision of Jesus himself, speaking to John:

I was in the Spirit on the Lord's day, and I heard behind me a loud voice like a trumpet saying, “Write what you see in a book and send it to the seven churches, to Ephesus and to Smyrna and to Pergamum and to Thyatira and to Sardis and to Philadelphia and to Laodicea.”

Then I turned to see the voice that was speaking to me, and on turning I saw seven golden lampstands, and in the midst of the lampstands one like a son of man, clothed with a long robe and with a golden sash around his chest. The hairs of his head were white, like white wool, like snow. His eyes were like a flame of fire, his feet were like burnished bronze, refined in a furnace, and his voice was like the roar of many waters. In his right hand he held seven stars, from his mouth came a sharp two-edged sword, and his face was like the sun shining in full strength.

When I saw him, I fell at his feet as though dead. But he laid his right hand on me, saying, “Fear not, I am the first and the last, and the living one. I died, and behold I am alive forevermore, and I have the keys of Death and Hades.

Depending on who you ask, there are anywhere from 300 to 600 specific Old Testament allusions in the 403 verses of Revelation. Let’s see what looking for some does for our understanding of the passage above.

A loud voice like a trumpet
Cry aloud; do not hold back; lift up your voice like a trumpet; declare to my people their transgression, to the house of Jacob their sins.

I saw seven golden lampstands,
And he said to me, “What do you see?” I said, “I see, and behold, a lampstand all of gold, with a bowl on the top of it, and seven lamps on it, with seven lips on each of the lamps that are on the top of it. And there are two olive trees by it, one on the right of the bowl and the other on its left.” “These seven are the eyes of the Lord, which range through the whole earth. These are the two anointed ones who stand by the Lord of the whole earth.”

And in the midst of the lampstands one like a son of man
Behold, with the clouds of heaven there came one like a son of man, and he came to the Ancient of Days and was presented before him

Clothed with a long robe and with a golden sash around his chest
I will clothe him with your robe, and will bind your sash on him, and will commit your authority to his hand. And he shall be a father to the inhabitants of Jerusalem and to the house of Judah.

The hairs of his head were white, like white wool, like snow. His eyes were like a flame of fire
As I looked, thrones were placed, and the Ancient of Days took his seat; his clothing was white as snow, and the hair of his head like pure wool; His throne was fiery flames; its wheels were burning fire. A stream of fire issued and came out from before him; a thousand thousands served him, and ten thousand times ten thousand stood before him; the court sat in judgment, and the books were opened.

His feet were like burnished bronze, refined in a furnace
His body was like beryl, his face like the appearance of lightning, his eyes like flaming torches, his arms and legs like the gleam of burnished bronze, and the sound of his words like the sound of a multitude.

His voice was like the roar of many waters
Ah, the thunder of many peoples; they thunder like the thundering of the sea! Ah, the roar of nations; they roar like the roaring of mighty waters!

From his mouth came a sharp two-edged sword
For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart.

His face was like the sun shining in full strength
And after six days Jesus took with him Peter and James, and John his brother, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became white as light.

When I saw him, I fell at his feet as though dead. But he laid his right hand on me, saying, “Fear not”
When the disciples heard this, they fell on their faces and were terrified. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, “Rise, and have no fear.”

I am the first and the last
Thus says the Lord, the King of Israel and his Redeemer, the Lord of hosts: “I am the first and I am the last; besides me there is no god.”

The living one. I died, and behold I am alive forevermore
But the Lord is the true God; he is the living God and the everlasting King.

I have the keys of Death and Hades
Shall I ransom them from the power of Sheol? Shall I redeem them from Death? O Death, where are your plagues? O Sheol, where is your sting?

OK, so they’re not all Old Testament. But it does amaze me how so much is evoked by symbols which first seemed merely strange. John looks at the man Jesus, and sees the fulfillment of all of Israel’s hopes.

It is Jesus who declares to Jacob the message of the prophets. It is him who holds together the faithful of Israel in his hands. He is the one worthy to be presented to the ancient of days. In his authority he holds Jerusalem in his hands like a father. When we look on his face, we see nothing less than the ineffable glory of the invisible God. He is the shining man Daniel saw crossing the river, while in captivity in Babylon. His voice drowns out the clamor of nations who assert their own power to rule the Earth. From his mouth comes the very word of God, piercing the heart and soul of man. In him the fullness of the glory of God lives, and shines brighter than we can look at. And yet he is compassionate, and elevates us with him in his glory. Jesus is to be seen as nothing less than the God who was and is – by his resurrection he proves that he has life in himself, and will endure forever just as we know God does. He is the conqueror of Death, and the plunderer of Hades who have hitherto held his people in captivity.

Behold, the man.

Blogging Through Revelation

2008-10-27T23:24:00.004-04:00

In a rather sharp break from the momentum of this project, I’m going to blog through the book of Revelation. It’s a less than ideal time to do it, since I’m only now about to reach some of the key Old Testament books that Revelation most often alludes to (Zechariah, Ezekiel, Isaiah, and Daniel). The book is deeply symbolic and very complex, and I had thought to wait until I had gone through the entire Bible to sum it all up in this last majestic volume.

However, I’m teaching a study on the book in our church small group, so now is the time that I have it on my mind. If I wait 'til I finish the rest of the Bible, I may wait forever - especially at my current rate of an utter standstill. I don't want the imagined best to become the enemy of actual good.

In a study our group did on Genesis a while back, there were a few principles we tried to adhere to:

1. Use the questions of the text. Let the text set its own agenda. Rather than bringing our questions to the text, try to pick up on what questions the text itself is seeking to answer, and ask those.

2. Speak the language of the text. Suspend the need to fit every detail into a preconceived theological framework, and allow yourself to be caught up in the story, interpreting the details in its light.

This is certainly not the only way to study the Bible - or even necessarily the best way, but I think it's a particularly neglected way in evangelical Bible studies. Things seemed to work particularly well for Genesis.

Revelation is a little trickier, because its imagery depends so heavily on the rest of the Bible. But I'm offering the group a few tips that seem helpful, most of which I've shamelessly stolen from a list I found on the internet that seemed wise.

1. The book of Revelation was written to the church in its infancy which was facing a great deal of persecution. We may not be persecuted for our faith, but St. John’s church was, as have been many since, as many are today. How does this speak to a suffering and powerless people?

2. Revelation is deeply symbolic, and though the symbolism is vivid and colorful, it isn’t primarily visual. Numbers, for instance, are almost always meant to convey meaning rather than a sense of how many objects we should be picturing in our heads. What are the symbols pointing us to?

3. The more of the Old Testament you know, the better you’ll get on with Revelation. Almost 600 OT references have been picked up, most of them probably unconscious. John is just so steeped in the language of scripture that it forms a natural part of his language. What OT themes are being invoked?

4. Notice how central ‘worship’ is to this book. The heart of Revelation’s message is the victory of Christ and the sovereignty of God over all the powers of the earth. Though this was written immediately to a church facing the might of the Roman Empire, it still speaks to us because those powers still trumpet their sovereignty in our world. How are we to worship?

Here we go!

My Presence Will Go With You (Haggai 1-2)

2008-09-23T23:40:00.003-04:00

I admit that it’s hard to have much perspective on the book of Haggai, having not yet gone through the return from exile in Ezra and Nehemiah. My goal in reading the prophets has been to gain perspective on the exile itself before moving on to the return, and so Haggai doesn’t exactly fit in that well at first glance. But let’s see what we can find.

The book is short and to the point. Some of the people have returned from exile back to Judah, and are managing to scratch out a meager existence for themselves in their ancestral homeland. But their thoughts are only on their own concerns. They have little energy for the things of God. And so the prophet speaks:

Is it a time for you yourselves to dwell in your paneled houses, while this house lies in ruins? Now, therefore, thus says the Lord of hosts: Consider your ways. You have sown much, and harvested little. You eat, but you never have enough; you drink, but you never have your fill. You clothe yourselves, but no one is warm. And he who earns wages does so to put them into a bag with holes . . . Go up to the hills and bring wood and build the house, that I may take pleasure in it and that I may be glorified, says the Lord.

I think back to Moses pleading with the Lord to travel alongside his people:

If your presence will not go with me, do not bring us up from here. For how shall it be known that I have found favor in your sight, I and your people? Is it not in your going with us, so that we are distinct, I and your people, from every other people on the face of the earth?

There is no life for the people of Israel without the abiding presence of God alongside them. There is no glory for them as a nation if they do not radiate with the glory of God. They were exiled from his presence for disobedience; how can they return and build houses for themselves if God is not to dwell once again in their midst?

Here again I’m struck with the nature of the God of Israel. This is a God who wants to live with man. He wants to elevate man to himself, and to condescend to live among them. The anger and frustration at their faithlessness is just another angle on that intense longing of God for his son to share his glory.

Esau Have I Hated (Obadiah)

2008-07-15T01:38:00.002-04:00

I apologize again for the lack of posts. I'm working on a really neat side project right now that's taking up most of my spare time. But I'm not abandoning the blog.

The vision of Obadiah is a short but fierce proclamation of Edom’s destruction. The justification seems simple enough. During the fall of Jerusalem, Edom sided with Judah’s enemies, going so far as to hunt down fugitives to turn over to the Babylonians. It’s wounds from a brother that bite deepest.

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.

The Lord announces his verdict, in a terrifying variation of the golden rule:

As you have done, it shall be done to you;
your deeds shall return on your own head.

In the end, even though Jerusalem has been plundered and Judah taken off to Israel, the Lord’s judgment will be in their favor:

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.

That certainly settles the matter. Cain who murdered his brother was exiled. Esau who despised his birthright will now be dispossessed. Such is God’s faithfulness to the younger brother Israel.

But what about Israel’s redemption? Is Israel being restored simply to gloat over those who were happy to see her down? What about Esau embracing Jacob and Jacob seeing the face of God? What about Joseph saying “you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good?”

Right now it looks to be forgotten. God’s verdict for their destruction is final and all encompassing. Unless, of course, someone with the authority to represent the people might look upon those who cast lots for his clothing and pray “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

The Audacity of Hope (Habakkuk 1-3)

2008-06-25T01:10:00.004-04:00

Wow, it’s been a while since my last post here. I suppose I’m doing what many readers of the Old Testament have done before me: I’ve gotten bogged down in the prophets. And these are just the “minor” prophets at that! Anyway, sorry about the title. I know it's a shameless ripoff, but it just so happens to also be a perfect title.

Hope seems to be one of the strongest themes in the Old Testament. Not optimism, mind you. Things don’t ever seem to go all that well for the people of Israel, and even the most glorious moment of their story, the exodus from Egypt, is filled with failure and judgment so severe it almost ended the story before it began. Yet every page is bursting at the seams with an unshakable hope in the goodness of God.

It is common indeed for people today to ask “where was God” when a tragedy strikes. It is even more common for eggheads like me to do so in a detached and cynical fashion about tragedy in the abstract (the problem of evil). But it makes every difference in the world whether the question is asked out of despair or hope. Indeed, those who hope can scream for God with a volume scarcely reachable by more tepid and bitter voices:

O Lord, how long shall I cry for help,
and you will not hear?
Or cry to you “Violence!”
and you will not save?
Why do you make me see iniquity,
and why do you idly look at wrong?

Thus says the prophet Habakkuk, in the face of the idolatry and injustice of Israel. God responds by bringing the Chaldeans (or Babylonians) to be the great equalizers of a corrupt and haughty civilization. But even this “salvation” is ambiguous. The Chaldeans exploit and abuse every kingdom known to man. It is true that the poor now see the rich getting their comeuppance, but the people of Israel as a whole must struggle under their yoke. Rich and poor suffer alike.

So Habakkuk asks again:

O Lord, you have ordained them as a judgment,
and you, O Rock, have established them for reproof.

Is he then to keep on emptying his net
and mercilessly killing nations forever?

The Chaldeans may be God’s way of judging the people of Israel, but they themselves are calling down judgment on their own heads:

Woe to him who builds a town with blood
and founds a city on iniquity!
Behold, is it not from the Lord of hosts
that peoples labor merely for fire,
and nations weary themselves for nothing?
For the earth will be filled
with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord
as the waters cover the sea.

The wrath of man doesn’t achieve the justice of God, and so even man as God’s instrument stands condemned. Israel has failed his task of upholding the law as a light to the nations, and instead has fallen into idolatry and injustice. Babylon has failed in her task of punishing Israel justly, and instead arrogantly assumes the entire world will be her prey. This is what the Lord saw when, before the flood, the Earth was filled with violence and the intentions of man’s heart were only evil continually. No wonder the Bible speaks of God being tempted to destroy man for good.

This is all hardly grounds for optimism. So the prophet leaves optimism behind, and clings to hope instead:

Though the fig tree should not blossom,
nor fruit be on the vines,
the produce of the olive fail
and the fields yield no food,
the flock be cut off from the fold
and there be no herd in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the Lord;
I will take joy in the God of my salvation.
God, the Lord, is my strength;
he makes my feet like the deer's;
he makes me tread on my high places.

Hope looks into the blackness of utter despair and total ruin and says, with defiance, “yet I will rejoice.” Such hope isn’t sentimentality or wishful thinking. It refuses to submit to the dark facts of reality, and so changes that reality by bringing the rule of God to bear.

Thus Noah found favor in the eyes of the Lord. Thus Abraham believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness. Thus Moses turned the face of God back towards his rebellious people. Thus David established an everlasting kingdom. And thus the tomb of the son of David was found empty, for hope does not disappoint.

In Wrath, Remember Mercy (Jonah 1-4)

2008-05-30T01:14:00.003-04:00

I don’t know how I could possibly do the book of Jonah justice. It seems I ought to devote three or four posts at least to this tiny little book (though I’ll never get through the whole Bible that way). For those of you who don’t remember much besides the whale (and please don’t tell me that 20th century animal naming schemes do not classify whales as “fish” and so the fish couldn’t be a whale), I cannot recommend rereading it highly enough. Heck, go ahead and do it now – it’ll only take 2 minutes.

The message of Jonah is among the most important of the prophets, as it speaks to the heart of Israel’s story. Jonah may very well be Israel himself.

Here we have a man given a vocation by God to proclaim a message before the nations, who then flees to a far country rather than obey the voice of the Lord. When the Lord sends the enveloping waters over him, Jonah thinks it is the end, but then he is saved by being swallowed up by a whale. Once he is vomited up on the shore, Jonah is once again tasked to do his duty, and this time he obeys. It’s the familiar picture of exile and return; judgment and salvation.

But what is really fascinating about Jonah is what happens next. The city in question is Nineveh, and the message he bears might just as well be verbatim from the book of Nahum. It’s a message of unconditional and unavoidable wrath and destruction. It’s a courtesy really – like having the death sentence formally read to the defendant right before carrying it out.

The citizens of Nineveh know what it’s like dealing with wrathful gods. I remember a similar incident in Homer’s Iliad, where Hector urges the women of Troy to pray to Pallas Athena to stay her wrath. They do so:

“Blessed Athena, sacred goddess … pity our city, with the wives and little ones of the Trojans.”

The women prayed. But Pallas Athena refused their prayer

I doubt the citizens of Nineveh expect any different. But apparently it’s worth a try:

Let everyone turn from his evil way and from the violence that is in his hands. Who knows? God may turn and relent and turn from his fierce anger, so that we may not perish.

There goes nothing. And then, surprisingly, against all expectation, God actually forgives them. He relents from his promised disaster. The only person not surprised is Jonah:

O Lord, is not this what I said when I was yet in my country? That is why I made haste to flee to Tarshish; for I knew that you are a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, and relenting from disaster. Therefore now, O Lord, please take my life from me, for it is better for me to die than to live.

Jonah was in on the secret: the Lord loves mankind! He doesn’t want even the wicked to perish, but prefers instead that they repent and be made whole. He is slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love and kindness. He’s such a sap that it’s sickening. God’s response is telling:

Do you do well to be angry?

It’s the same thing he said to Cain when he fumed with jealous anger over the Lord’s acceptance of his younger brother Abel’s sacrifice. Here again is the perennial choice – to “do well”.

Jonah doesn’t want Nineveh to be forgiven. These are the people who have visited cruelty upon the entire world – not the least of which Israel themselves. The salvation Jonah wants is the total destruction of the Assyrians and the triumph and dominion of Israel as God’s chosen and holy people.

When Jonah then complains about the death of a vine which shielded him from the sun, the Lord sets him straight:

You pity the plant, for which you did not labor, nor did you make it grow, which came into being in a night and perished in a night. And should not I pity Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than 120,000 persons who do not know their right hand from their left, and also much cattle?

One thing that amazes me is how thoroughly the roles have been reversed. Abraham pleaded with God to save Sodom, Moses begged him not to destroy the Israelites, and David implored him to take his plague out on his house and not the people as a whole. But here it is Jonah, not God, who needs convincing.

Jonah can’t see past his own interests, while the Lord is concerned even about the cows in Nineveh. But it goes deeper than that. Jonah’s vocation was to be a light for the nations, and instead he shrunk from the task. After being forgiven and restored against all odds, he resigned himself to his vocation, but was still convinced that the Lord had chosen him for his own benefit and exaltation. Rather than see a younger brother like Nineveh offer an acceptable sacrifice, Jonah would see him dead – and if this isn’t possible, he’d prefer to die himself.

What a picture of self-righteous Israel! This is precisely what Jesus faults them for – thinking that God gave them the law so that they could look down on all the other nations. Thus the wayward prophet cannot bear to see a people forgiven for their waywardness. The sulking elder brother would rather stay outside than see his younger brother restored to the family. The forgiven adulteress picks up stones to stone another woman caught in the same sin. And the Lord lays upon his Christ the iniquity of them all.

The Wrath of God (Nahum 1-3)

2008-05-20T01:57:00.007-04:00

“The Lord is a jealous and avenging God,” begins the prophet Nahum in his oracle against Nineveh, the capital of the Assyrian empire. This short book is a treatise against the city which calls down utter destruction on its walls. The prophet does not urge the city to repentance. He only informs them that they will shortly meet their maker and that there will be Hell to pay.

The judgment of God. The ancient Jews longed for it, because they suffered under the weight of powerful empires. The medieval Christians dreaded it, because they feared condemnation for the evil of their own hearts. We are mostly confused and even embarrassed by it, because we are not generally oppressed and think ourselves to be fairly good people. And yet the moment a calamity comes to shake us out of our complacency, we begin suddenly to sound like the ancients towards God. Why isn’t he doing something? Why doesn’t he come and judge the Earth?

Well, in Nineveh’s case, it is time for this long anticipated judgment. News of their crimes has reached to high Heaven:

Woe to the bloody city,
all full of lies and plunder—
no end to the prey!
The crack of the whip, and rumble of the wheel,
galloping horse and bounding chariot!
Horsemen charging,
flashing sword and glittering spear,
hosts of slain,
heaps of corpses,
dead bodies without end—
they stumble over the bodies!
And all for the countless whorings of the prostitute,
graceful and of deadly charms,
who betrays nations with her whorings,
and peoples with her charms.

They are a ruthless people who crush other nations without giving it a second thought. Like hungry lions they rip the flesh off kingdoms and drink the blood of their slain armies. But their time has come:

There is no easing your hurt;
your wound is grievous.
All who hear the news about you
clap their hands over you.
For upon whom has not come
your unceasing evil?

When disaster comes, few indeed will pity them. It’s good riddance. The people of the world will cheer and jeer as the hated city is pounded into dust.

So much for Nineveh. But what can be said for the judgment of God? I’m reminded of a major theme from the book on evil I just finished: The Doors of the Sea by David Hart. Rather than affirming all things as somehow fitting into God’s perfect plan, Hart reminds us that some things truly are meaningless:

Simply said, there is no more liberating knowledge given us by the gospel—and none in which we should find more comfort—than the knowledge that suffering and death, considered in themselves, have no ultimate meaning at all.

Now we are able to rejoice that we are saved not through the immanent mechanisms of history and nature, but by grace; that God will not unite all of history's many strands in one great synthesis, but will judge much of history false and damnable; that he will not simply reveal the sublime logic of fallen nature, but will strike off the fetters in which creation languishes.

Though it may sound strange to us, the fiery judgment of God is one of the most hopeful and freeing truths in all of scripture. If God himself, the all-powerful and infinitely wise creator, finds much of our world’s present state worthy of damnation, then it frees us from having to reconcile ourselves to “the way things are.”

This is the vision that will sustain Israel through the exile. If the people of God were mere pragmatists finding a niche for themselves in the world, then this would be the end of the story. But instead they can hope in a wrathful God who will soon storm down from his Heaven and shatter the kingdoms of the world. The nations may rage, but the kingdom of God is at hand.

The Doors of the Sea

2008-05-19T01:25:00.004-04:00

I’ve just finished what is probably the best thing I’ve ever read on the problem of evil: David Bentley Hart’s The Doors of the Sea: Where Was God in the Tsunami. It’s a tiny little book, with a cover that suggested to me Max Lucado feel-good sentimentality rather than one of the most profound and beautiful theological books I’ve come across. This Eastern Orthodox theologian rips to shreds many of the standard theistic theodocies as well as atheist straw men, and proclaims in their place the Christian gospel. He does this with beautiful writing that verges on poetry, all in a mere 100 pages. Don’t judge a book by its cover.

Rather than attempt to review Hart’s book, and thus summarize it, I thought I’d key in on a theme I found particularly striking. In dealing with deistic theodocies of the watchmaker God, Hart talks in great length something that most of us who have pondered the beauty and savagery of nature know:

The natural world overwhelms us with its splendor, its beauty, its immensities and fragilities, its incalculable diversity, its endless combinations of the colossal and the delicate, sweetness and glory, minute intricacies and immeasurable grandeurs. It is easy, and among the most spontaneous movements of the soul, to revere the God glimpsed in the iridescence of flowered meadows, the emerald light of the deep forest, the soft, immaculate blue of distant mountains, the shining volubility of the sunlit sea, the pale, cold glitter of the stars. This is a perfectly wise and even holy impulse.

But, at the same time, all the splendid loveliness of the natural world is everywhere attended – and, indeed, preserved – by death. All life feeds on life, each creature must yield its place in time to another, and at the heart of nature is a perpetual struggle to survive and increase at the expense of other beings. It is as if the entire cosmos were somehow predatory, a single great organism nourishing itself upon the death of everything to which it gives birth, creating and devouring all things with a terrible and impassive majesty. Nature squanders us with such magnificent prodigality that it is hard not to think that something enduringly hideous and abysmal must abide in the depths of life.

Considered “from below,” from within the system of nature, the force that drives and animates and shapes the whole of the organic world seems to achieve an almost perfectly transparent epitome of itself in those lavishly floriferous but parasitic vines that – urged always upward by a blind, thrusting, idiotic heliotropism – climb toward the light of the sun by choking the life from the trees around which they grow, constantly struggling out of the shadows in their thirst for the light, extending one tenuous tendril after another toward the sun to swell and slowly suffocate the boughs they entwine, until they burgeon forth at the last in such gorgeous and copious flowers that one might forget what had to perish to make such a triumph possible.

Put quite simply, the world is clearly the beautiful, glorious creation of God, but it is bound inextricably to the forces of death and decay – so much so that we can’t even imagine a world without such ruthlessness. And here the deist theodicy says that this is as good as it gets. If you want the glory, you have to endure all the death and decay that makes it possible. True paradise is a logical impossibility, and you must simply resign yourself that this is as good as it can get – the best of all possible worlds. Take it or leave it.

Hart then takes from the pragmatic theodicy of the deist into the gloriously non-empirical vision of the Christian. He quotes Thomas Traherne, saying:

You never enjoy the world aright, till you see how a sand exhibiteth the wisdom and power of God; and prize in everything the service which they do you, by manifesting His glory and goodness to your soul. Wine quencheth my thirst, but to see it flowing from his love who give it unto man quencheth the thrist even of the holy angels. Your enjoyment of the world is never right till every morning you awake in Heaven: see yourself in your Father’s palace; and look upon the skies and the earth and the air, as celestial joys. You never enjoy the world aright till the sea floweth in your veins; till your spirit filleth the whole world, and the starts are your jewels; till you love men so as to desire their happiness, with a thirst equal to the zeal of your own; till you delight in God for being good to all. The world is a mirror of inifinite beauty, yet no man sees it. It is a temple of majesty, yet no man regards it. It is a region of light and peace, did not men disquiet it. It is the paradise of God.

Hart concludes:

To see the world as it should be seen, and so to see the true glory of God reflected in it, requires the cultivation of charity, of an eye rendered limpid by love.

I can’t easily express how deeply this moves my soul. So much could be said, and so much more had probably better be left unsaid. But one thing that really stands out to me is something that puzzles a great many people: the virtue of faith.

The saints Hart refers to seem to inhabit a different world than the one full of death and decay that we are familiar with. They straddle the line between Heaven and Earth, and walk in Paradise under our sky. And so they see the world not through the spectacles of empiricism but the eyes of faith. This really is virtuous, for acting in such faith causes a little bit of that reality break in to our lives.

Rejoice Over Me With Singing (Zephaniah 1-3)

2008-04-21T01:38:00.009-04:00

Back in the days of my High School youth group, there was a praise song we used to sing called “Zephaniah 3:17”. The chorus (adopted from that passage) implored the Lord to “quiet me with your holy love, and rejoice over me with singing.” It was a cheesy but sweet song, especially when sung with dozens of young people around a campfire with a lone acoustic guitar leading the way – sort of an evangelical Christian “let it be”.

Though I mean no disrespect for campfire praise songs (which have probably done my soul more good than I know), I can’t imagine that this was really the tone the prophet Zephaniah had in mind.

The book of Zephaniah opens with this:

“I will utterly sweep away everything from the face of the earth,” declares the Lord.

“I will sweep away man and beast; I will sweep away the birds of the heavens and the fish of the sea, and the rubble with the wicked. I will cut off mankind from the face of the earth,” declares the Lord.

Here God is bringing back the imagery of the Flood in Genesis. I really can’t get over the horror of that story. Many today dismiss it as a wrathful and unjust picture of God, but this misses the real tragedy – that man has made himself a cancer on creation that it warrants the destruction of the entire project.

Only here God is talking specifically about Judah:

I will stretch out my hand against Judah and against all the inhabitants of Jerusalem; and I will cut off from this place the remnant of Baal and the name of the idolatrous priests along with the priests, those who bow down on the roofs
to the host of the heavens, those who bow down and swear to the Lord and yet swear by Milcom, those who have turned back from following the Lord, who do not seek the Lord or inquire of him.

Zephaniah goes on to talk about the terrible the day of the Lord. The judgment will come on Judah, and upon all the surrounding nations. Egypt, Assyria, Moab, and the land of the Philistines will all be swept away by his fierce anger:

In the fire of his jealousy,
all the earth shall be consumed;
for a full and sudden end
he will make of all the inhabitants of the earth.

I think this is a perfect example of the pitfalls of reading the Bible with either wooden literalism or dismissive allegorization. Clearly the Babylonian scourge didn’t actually wipe out all the inhabitants of the Earth. Clearly the birds, fish, beasts, and people lived to see another day. But it is every bit as clear that a cheap spiritualization does violence to the text. Like in the Genesis story itself, you miss the point if you see these events in anything less than cosmic terms.

The exile of Israel isn’t just something that feels like the end of the world – it really is the end of the world. Israel is man’s representative and the platform for the world’s redemption. If the light of the world is darkness, then the darkness is great indeed!

It is here, at the end of all things, while peering into the abyss, that we hear the words which inspired the praise song:

Sing aloud, O daughter of Zion;
shout, O Israel!
Rejoice and exult with all your heart,
O daughter of Jerusalem!

The Lord your God is in your midst,
a mighty one who will save;
he will rejoice over you with gladness;
he will quiet you by his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing.

At that time I will bring you in,
at the time when I gather you together;
for I will make you renowned and praised
among all the peoples of the earth,
when I restore your fortunes
before your eyes.

Though their evil is such as to render the goodness of creation forfeit, there is no pit so deep that Israel’s God is not deeper still. There are no lengths to which he will not go to save them. Though they see the world crashing down around them for their faithlessness to God, it is God’s faithfulness to man that will be the final word.

However, unlike the sentimentality of the praise song, this salvation isn’t something that can be focused on apart from the terrifying judgment of God. As we saw with some frustration earlier, Josiah’s reforms were not enough to stay his anger. On the contrary: the salvation of God is found in enduring the curse for the joy set before them.

The Method to the Madness (Micah 1-7)

2008-04-15T01:28:00.002-04:00

The book of Micah begins with the classic prophetic judgment on Israel and Judah. God makes his case against them clear: they have not loved him with their whole heart; they have not loved their neighbors as their selves. But Micah has a distinctly different tone from the two other prophets I have read. While Amos and Hosea show us the Lord’s wrath and fury, Micah shows us his grief.

Of course there is plenty of prophetic anger in the book, but the picture is, more than anything, that of a stern parent in the hour of discipline. He is resolute to punish his people for their sins, and so he must deafen his ears to their cries. Yet, the goal is not destruction but purification. His eyes are always towards the goal – that of Israel’s vocation as the instrument of the salvation of the world.

Here, in one of the most memorable passages in all the prophets, we see a vision of what God intends for man:

It shall come to pass in the latter days
that the mountain of the house of the Lord
shall be established as the highest of the mountains,
and it shall be lifted up above the hills;
and peoples shall flow to it,
and many nations shall come, and say:

“Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord,
to the house of the God of Jacob,
that he may teach us his ways
and that we may walk in his paths.”

For out of Zion shall go forth the law,
and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.

He shall judge between many peoples,
and shall decide for strong nations far away;
and they shall beat their swords into plowshares,
and their spears into pruning hooks;
nation shall not lift up sword against nation,
neither shall they learn war anymore;
but they shall sit every man under his vine and under his fig tree,
and no one shall make them afraid,
for the mouth of the Lord of hosts has spoken.

They were meant to be the light for the world, and right now they stumble in darkness. God had shown them what is good – to act justly and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with him – but they continually chose the evil. This has been the story from the beginning.

Not entirely though. The prophet remembers the great king David, whose faithfulness brought Israel closer than ever to that central vision. Now he points forward to another David, who will complete this task:

But you, O Bethlehem Ephrathah,
who are too little to be among the clans of Judah,
from you shall come forth for me
one who is to be ruler in Israel,
whose coming forth is from of old,
from ancient days.

Therefore he shall give them up until the time
when she who is in labor has given birth;
then the rest of his brothers shall return
to the people of Israel.

And he shall stand and shepherd his flock in the strength of the Lord,
in the majesty of the name of the Lord his God.
And they shall dwell secure, for now he shall be great
to the ends of the earth.

And he shall be their peace.

At this moment his decision is to send them into exile. This suffering, however, is that of the birth pains of a woman; it is for a purpose. The Lord is not rejecting them utterly. Though their intentions of their hearts are evil from their youth, he will never again set out to destroy them.

In the concluding chapters, Micah offers up a model prayer which both acknowledges the sin of Israel and the fact that God intends to glorify them in the end:

Rejoice not over me, O my enemy;
when I fall, I shall rise;
when I sit in darkness,
the Lord will be a light to me.

I will bear the indignation of the Lord
because I have sinned against him,
until he pleads my cause
and executes judgment for me.
He will bring me out to the light;
I shall look upon his vindication.

He will again have compassion on us;
he will tread our iniquities underfoot.
You will cast all our sins
into the depths of the sea.

The pattern of redemption continues to unfold. Through exile will come restoration. Through punishment will come purification. Through death will come resurrection.

The Act of Adultery (Hosea 1-14)

2008-04-10T01:03:00.007-04:00

The prophet Hosea has one of the most outrageous callings in all of scripture: marrying a whore. The Lord instructs him to take Gomer as his wife, and to let her adultery be an incarnation of the idolatry of Israel.

What follows is some of the most passionate and anguished oracles in all of scripture.

The book of Hosea is a veritable whirlwind. The Lord doubles over with rage at their continual prostitution with other gods. Hell hath no fury like a lover scorned:

Now I will uncover her lewdness
in the sight of her lovers,
and no one shall rescue her out of my hand.

I will fall upon them like a bear robbed of her cubs;
I will tear open their breast,
and there I will devour them like a lion,
as a wild beast would rip them open.

Shall I ransom them from the power of Sheol?
Shall I redeem them from Death?
O Death, where are your plagues?
O Sheol, where is your sting?
Compassion is hidden from my eyes.

Such murderous fury features throughout the oracles. Yet for each violent rant there is a pensive memory where the Lord recalls his love for Israel. Like a parent of an impossible teenager pausing to remember the sweet moments of childhood, God finds his wrath slowly melting away:

In the womb he took his brother by the heel,
and in his manhood he strove with God.
He strove with the angel and prevailed;
he wept and sought his favor.

When Israel was a child, I loved him,
and out of Egypt I called my son.

It was I who taught Ephraim to walk;
I took them up by their arms

How can I give you up, O Ephraim?
How can I hand you over, O Israel?

My heart recoils within me;
my compassion grows warm and tender.

The Lord fumes back and forth – one moment declaring that he will destroy them altogether, and the next moment revealing that all this suffering was only an effort to call them back to himself. I really don’t know if there is a god in all of the religions and myths of man that comes even close to the intensity of love that the Lord has for Israel. He aches for mankind so strongly that nothing short of the furious anger and desperate longing of a faithful husband seeing his wife pursue another man will suffice as a prophetic symbol.

This all reminds me of the incident in the book of John where the Pharisees bring to Jesus a woman caught in adultery. Echoing his own sermon on the mount, where he declared “you have heard it said, but I say,” they ask him:

In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say?

Jesus tells them that the one without sin may throw the first stone. It’s a classic exposure of hypocrisy, but I can’t help but think of Hosea and Gomer. For Israel has the Law of Moses, and, far from giving them cause for pride, it only exposes their shame. Their idolatrous and unrighteous hearts should have taught them to identify with the whore, not look down on her. In telling the woman to go and sin no more, Jesus proves himself to be the fulfillment of the law and the prophets. His love for Israel is the love of their God – the love that calls the wayward adulterous home again.

Hosea captures this beautifully:

Come, let us return to the Lord;
for he has torn us, that he may heal us;
he has struck us down, and he will bind us up.
After two days he will revive us;
on the third day he will raise us up,
that we may live before him.

Follow your king, oh Israel. The path lies through the wrath of God and out the other side.

On This Mountain or in Jerusalem (Amos 1-9)

2008-04-08T00:11:00.002-04:00

Having finished the book of Kings, I now turn to Amos, the earliest of the prophetic books. He writes during the reign of Jeroboam II, the king of Israel, who was one of the milder evil kings.

I’m struck almost immediately of the difference in focus between the author of Kings and the prophet Amos. The book of Kings is almost entirely concerned with two things – idolatry and worship at the high places. All kings and eras are judged against this standard, and the exile and judgment is said to be due to these sins.

What a contrast to the message of Amos!

Oh, it’s not like Amos commends idolatry or worship on the high places. Nor am I suggesting that there isn’t a connection implied in the scriptures. But listen to the reasons Amos gives for the roaring fury of the Lord:

because they have threshed Gilead
with threshing sledges of iron.

because they delivered up a whole people to Edom,
and did not remember the covenant of brotherhood.

because he pursued his brother with the sword
and cast off all pity,
and his anger tore perpetually,
and he kept his wrath forever.

because they have ripped open pregnant women in Gilead,
that they might enlarge their border.

because he burned to lime
the bones of the king of Edom.

because they sell the righteous for silver,
and the needy for a pair of sandals—
those who trample the head of the poor into the dust of the earth
and turn aside the way of the afflicted;

The Lord is angry because he wants to see justice done by man, and instead sees the earth filled with violence and the intentions of man’s heart evil continually. The nations stand condemned for their cruelty. The people of God stand condemned for their oppression of the poor.

It is here that we see the effects of each man doing what is right in his own eyes. Here we see the true fruit of the sin of Jeroboam, the son of Nebat. The high places and the altar at Bethel are more than just an arbitrary breach of protocol. It is the difference between worshipping what they do not know, and knowing the Lord. As in Genesis, estrangement from God leads to enmity among brothers. Upon cutting himself off from Jerusalem and the temple of the Lord, Israel quickly falls into injustice and makes his worship an abomination:

I hate, I despise your feasts,
and I take no delight in your solemn assemblies.
Even though you offer me your burnt offerings and grain offerings,
I will not accept them;
and the peace offerings of your fattened animals,
I will not look upon them.
Take away from me the noise of your songs;
to the melody of your harps I will not listen.

But let justice roll down like waters,
and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.

The oracles of Amos are a whirlwind of anger, threats, grief, pleading, and hope. The Lord is absolutely livid at the wickedness and unfaithfulness of Israel. He promises to grind them into the dust with relentless fury. And yet he longs for it to be otherwise. If only they would turn to him, all would be well. Finally, he points forward to the restoration of David, in whom all Israel will be saved.

The Book of Kings

2008-04-06T21:06:00.004-04:00

Having been established on the firm foundation of the house of David, the nation of Israel acts out the tragic fall of man in its national history. Having fallen into disobedience, the family of Israel is split into two kingdoms at enmity with each other. The court history of each kingdom (Israel especially) is a bloody mess of coups and horrific purges. Despite the warnings and witness of the great prophets, Israel and Judah fall into idolatry, and are driven by God into exile from the paradise of the land of promise.

Volume One

Volume Two

The Necessary Suffering (II Kings 21-25)

2008-04-06T00:45:00.009-04:00

The book of Kings concludes with Judah’s worst idolatry, sincerest repentance, and most catastrophic disaster. It begins with Hezekiah’s son Manasseh. Though Hezekiah was characterized as a good king in the mold of David, his son is a different story:

Manasseh led them astray to do more evil than the nations had done whom the Lord destroyed before the people of Israel.

It is the last straw.

The prophets announce the judgment of the Lord:

Because Manasseh king of Judah has committed these abominations and has done things more evil than all that the Amorites did, who were before him, and has made Judah also to sin with his idols, therefore thus says the Lord, the God of Israel: Behold, I am bringing upon Jerusalem and Judah such disaster that the ears of everyone who hears of it will tingle. And I will stretch over Jerusalem the measuring line of Samaria, and the plumb line of the house of Ahab, and I will wipe Jerusalem as one wipes a dish, wiping it and turning it upside down. And I will forsake the remnant of my heritage and give them into the hand of their enemies, and they shall become a prey and a spoil to all their enemies, because they have done what is evil in my sight and have provoked me to anger, since the day their fathers came out of Egypt, even to this day.

In this final rebellion, the people of Judah are taking upon themselves all the sins of their fathers. Judgment hangs over them. But then, it also seems we’ve seen this all before. When the Lord was ready to destroy all creation, Noah found favor in his sight. When he planned to wipe out Sodom, Abraham pleaded for the city. When he was ready to annihilate Israel in the wilderness, Moses interceded on their behalf. When the angel of the Lord prepared to strike Jerusalem with the plague, David called judgment on his house alone. When the kingdom of Israel was deep in idolatry, Elisha arose and brought rain to a parched land. I cannot help but expect the hero to arrive at the last minute and save the day.

And so he does. King Josiah institutes reforms on a scale the nation had never seen. He destroys all the idols. He abolishes the worship on the high places. He restores the Passover, which apparently had not been practiced since the days of the Judges. He calls an assembly of the people and renews the covenant with the Lord.

The book of Kings writes of Josiah:

Before him there was no king like him, who turned to the Lord with all his heart and with all his soul and with all his might, according to all the Law of Moses, nor did any like him arise after him.

Time and time again the Lord has proven himself slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, forgiving iniquity and transgression. In situations like this, I’ve grown to expect forgiveness and restoration. So it’s with shock that I read this:

Still the Lord did not turn from the burning of his great wrath, by which his anger was kindled against Judah, because of all the provocations with which Manasseh had provoked him. And the Lord said, “I will remove Judah also out of my sight, as I have removed Israel, and I will cast off this city that I have chosen, Jerusalem, and the house of which I said, My name shall be there.”

Because of Josiah’s faithfulness, the Lord is willing to stall his great judgment until the king himself has died. But even this faithful king cannot secure forgiveness for Judah. After Josiah’s death the Babylonians finally come crashing down on the poor kingdom like a sledge hammer. An oppressed Judah foolishly tries to gain independence, which provokes them to burn the temple and the city, tear down their walls, kill King Zedekiah’s sons in front of him before stabbing his eyes out, and drag the people into exile in chains.

This ending has always been very troubling to me. I understand that Judah deserves punishment, but why now? Why immediately following Josiah – a king mighty in deed and word before God and all the people? Surely they had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Isn’t this ruin and exile exact opposite of what we’ve grown to expect in the face of a righteous man interceding for the people of God?

It’s all very perplexing, and the author of Kings doesn't seem to have a coherent explanation. So let’s turn now to the prophets, and listen to what they have to say.

Salvation Belongs To Our God (II Kings 18-20)

2008-03-25T01:53:00.004-04:00

I’ve made no secret of the fact that I’ve found the book of Kings rather grueling. Sometimes reading the Bible is just plain work, like hiking up a steep mountain where trees and brush obscure any view. I slog through pages I’d quickly skim over if they were in any other book, and it is all I can do to keep one foot moving forward after another. Then, when I least expect it, I come across a vision of such grandeur and glory that it simply takes my breath away.

Hezekiah and Sennacherib may as well be David and Goliath.

The story begins with the aftermath of the fall of the northern kingdom. Judah is quaking at the might of the mighty empire of Assyria at her gates. Pacified for a moment by tribute, new envoys soon arrive with a fell message for the terrified officials of Jerusalem.

Say to Hezekiah, ‘Thus says the great king, the king of Assyria: On what do you rest this trust of yours? Do you think that mere words are strategy and power for war? In whom do you now trust, that you have rebelled against me? Behold, you are trusting now in Egypt, that broken reed of a staff, which will pierce the hand of any man who leans on it. … Come now, make a wager with my master the king of Assyria: I will give you two thousand horses, if you are able on your part to set riders on them. How then can you repulse a single captain among the least of my master's servants, when you trust in Egypt for chariots and for horsemen?

The officials beg the envoy to speak in Aramaic, rather than a language that the people standing on the wall to understand. The emissary responds:

Has my master sent me to speak these words to your master and to you, and not to the men sitting on the wall, who are doomed with you to eat their own dung and to drink their own urine?

He then shouts up to the people of Jerusalem:

Hear the word of the great king, the king of Assyria! Thus says the king: ‘Do not let Hezekiah deceive you, for he will not be able to deliver you out of my hand. Do not let Hezekiah make you trust in the Lord by saying, The Lord will surely deliver us, and this city will not be given into the hand of the king of Assyria. … Has any of the gods of the nations ever delivered his land out of the hand of the king of Assyria?

The terrifying bluster is met with stone silence. Not a single word is spoken. Deep in the citadel, King Hezekiah reacts to the news with a desparate plea to the Lord:

Incline your ear, O Lord, and hear; open your eyes, O Lord, and see; and hear the words of Sennacherib, which he has sent to mock the living God. Truly, O Lord, the kings of Assyria have laid waste the nations and their lands and have cast their gods into the fire, for they were not gods, but the work of men's hands, wood and stone. Therefore they were destroyed. So now, O Lord our God, save us, please, from his hand, that all the kingdoms of the earth may know that you, O Lord, are God alone.

The prophet Isaiah brings the Lord’s answer:

Whom have you mocked and reviled? Against whom have you raised your voice and lifted your eyes to the heights? Against the Holy One of Israel! By your messengers you have mocked the Lord, and you have said, “With my many chariots I have gone up the heights of the mountains, to the far recesses of Lebanon; I felled its tallest cedars, its choicest cypresses; I entered its farthest lodging place, its most fruitful forest. I dug wells and drank foreign waters, and I dried up with the sole of my foot all the streams of Egypt.”

Have you not heard that I determined it long ago? I planned from days of old what now I bring to pass, that you should turn fortified cities into heaps of ruins, while their inhabitants, shorn of strength, are dismayed and confounded, and have become like plants of the field and like tender grass, like grass on the housetops, blighted before it is grown.

But I know your sitting down and your going out and coming in, and your raging against me. Because you have raged against me and your complacency has come into my ears, I will put my hook in your nose and my bit in your mouth, and I will turn you back on the way by which you came.

That very night the angel of the Lord kills over a hundred thousand Assyrian soldiers. Sennacherib is forced to return to Nineveh, where he is assassinated by his own sons. Because of David, God once again saves Jerusalem from destruction. Judah comes within an inch of his life, but the Lord has gives him a breath of hope.

Later, Isaiah tells King Hezekiah that he will die of an illness. When the desperate King implores the Lord to change his mind and spare his life, God changes his mind and grants him another fifteen years. Like his kingdom, the king himself has been granted life in the face of the grave.

But Hezekiah is no David. At the end of his life he fathers Manasseh, the most infamously idolatrous King in all the history of Judah. He also exposes all of his palaces and goods to impress ambassadors from Babylon. After the prophet Isaiah warns him that this very country will one day take all of these goods for themselves, Hezekiah is shockingly apathetic:

Then said Hezekiah to Isaiah, “The word of the Lord that you have spoken is good.” For he thought, “Why not, if there will be peace and security in my days?”

No tears were spared grieving the impending loss of his own life, but the prophecy of Judah’s fall produces not a sniffle. Where is the compassion of Abraham, who will plead with God for the city of Sodom? Where is the tenacity of Jacob who will hold fast to the Lord until he secures a blessing for him and his offspring? Where is the mercy of Moses who told God that if he wants to reject Israel, he must reject him as well? Where is the agonized cry of David, telling the Lord to spare the sheep and punish his house alone? Hezekiah may have done “what was right in the eyes of the Lord”, but the salvation of the people of God lies in the faithfulness of a greater King.

The Sum of All Fears (II Kings 14-17)

2008-03-18T00:44:00.003-04:00

I told you so. That is the tone of the book of Kings’ account of the fall of the northern kingdom of Israel:

Yet the Lord warned Israel and Judah by every prophet and every seer, saying, “Turn from your evil ways and keep my commandments and my statutes, in accordance with all the Law that I commanded your fathers, and that I sent to you by my servants the prophets.”

There really seems little to say about it. The people are guilty. They repeatedly thumb their noses at their God. They insist on worshipping him on their terms on the high places. They don’t think twice about bringing in foreign idols. Except for one bloody regime under Jehu, they persecute the prophets. King after king after king is described concisely as “doing evil in the sight of the Lord.” They’ve become every bit as wicked as the former inhabitants. What more can He do but hurl them out of the land?

What more indeed. The tragedy and futility is overwhelming. Israel is expelled from the land, like Adam from Eden. The Lord is finally giving up on them – as he nearly did in the flood and threatened to do so many times with Moses. But what of his plan, his promises, and his purposes? As with Job, is not the creator implicated in the failure of his creation? What hope is there that any other people will succeed where Israel failed? Shall not the clay say to the potter, “why did you make me like this”?

When the king of Assyria (not to be confused with Syria) carries off the Israelites, he also moves in many of his own people to colonize the newly conquered land. They quickly learn, through a series of lion attacks, that the local god is a feisty one that demands their respect. And so they keep a few priests around to teach them how to worship the Lord. All in all, the new Samaritans aren’t really any worse than the Israelites – and they at least can plead ignorance.

This is what St. Paul was talking about in the book of Romans. Though they possess the law, it doesn’t really seem to do the Israelites much good. The great story of Exodus from Egypt, the sublime customs and worship outlined in the Torah, and the righteous laws they are given to live by all only serve to condemn them as unworthy of such blessings. In the end, what has God accomplished other than to show them how wretched they are?

All hope rests on Judah – the one tribe that remains standing against the juggernaut of Assyria.

Driving Like Jehu (II Kings 8-13)

2008-03-11T02:02:00.008-04:00

Bishop Ulfilas, in the fourth century, undertook the task of translating the Bible into the Gothic language with a curious omission: he left out the book of Kings. The Goths, in his opinion, were already too fond of fighting, and “needed in that matter the bit, rather than the spur.” I can’t say that I blame him.

An unfortunate theme that we encounter again and again in reading the Bible is the pervasive cruelty of the ancient world. I’ve written before that this is perhaps the biggest stumbling block to the modern reader. Though the passages where God’s justice is portrayed in terms of genocidal fury and collective punishment disturbs today’s devout Christians, I get the distinct impression that the ancient reader hardly batted an eyelash. Elisha’s conversation with Hazael, the future king of Syria, is a case in point:

And he fixed his gaze and stared at him, until he was ashamed. And the man of God wept. And Hazael said, “Why does my lord weep?” He answered, “Because I know the evil that you will do to the people of Israel. You will set on fire their fortresses, and you will kill their young men with the sword and dash in pieces their little ones and rip open their pregnant women.” And Hazael said, “What is your servant, who is but a dog, that he should do this great thing?” Elisha answered, “The Lord has shown me that you are to be king over Syria.”

Catch that? It’s not, “what kind of a monster do you take me for?” but rather, “do you really think I could pull something like that off?”

It is this unstated assumption – that might made right; that the sheer power to conquer settled all question of legitimacy – that hits us full in the face when our form-fitting athletic shoes walk the dusty roads of the ancient near-east. “New Atheists”, like Richard Dawkins, use this disorientation to great rhetorical effect in their hateful crusade against Christianity – stating that “the God of the Old Testament is arguably the most unpleasant character in all of literature: cruel, capricious, jealous, vindictive and unjust.” But I am more convinced than ever that, on this point, Dawkins is wrong – blinded by his own prejudice.

I will never forget the reaction of a college agnostic upon reading Genesis seriously for the first time in an undergraduate literature class. Having been immersed in all of the tragic brutality and futility of Gilgamesh, Homer and the Greeks, he was moved almost to tears at the passionate love of the God of the Bible. By learning to read with ancient eyes, he was able to see what the Bible was longing to tell him: that the Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, keeping steadfast love for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin.

Yet the Old Testament was written first to the ancients, and lest they mistake his love for apathy, they need to know him also as one who will by no means clear the guilty, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children and the children’s children, to the third and the fourth generation. And so, with Ahab’s son on the throne, Elisha has his servant anoint Jehu the scourge as king of Israel.

Jehu is a general fighting the Syrians when he is spontaneously anointed by the rogue prophet. Wasting no time, he rides quickly to Jezreel and stages a coup. He kills Joram, the son of Ahab, and throws his body into the field of Naboth (whom Ahab had murdered). He has Jezebel thrown down from the palace to her death below, where roving dogs eat her body. He orders the death of all seventy of Ahab’s sons.

Jehu continues:

And when he departed from there, he met Jehonadab the son of Rechab coming to meet him…And he said, “Come with me, and see my zeal for the Lord.” So he had him ride in his chariot. And when he came to Samaria, he struck down all who remained to Ahab in Samaria, till he had wiped them out, according to the word of the Lord that he spoke to Elijah.

Then Jehu stages this brilliant bit of treachery:

And Jehu ordered, “Sanctify a solemn assembly for Baal.” So they proclaimed it. And Jehu sent throughout all Israel, and all the worshipers of Baal came, so that there was not a man left who did not come. And they entered the house of Baal, and the house of Baal was filled from one end to the other. …So as soon as he had made an end of offering the burnt offering, Jehu said to the guard and to the officers, “Go in and strike them down; let not a man escape.” So when they put them to the sword, the guard and the officers cast them out and went into the inner room of the house of Baal, and they brought out the pillar that was in the house of Baal and burned it. And they demolished the pillar of Baal, and demolished the house of Baal, and made it a latrine to this day.

It is the final ruin of Ahab and Jezebel and the avenging of the blood of the prophets and of Naboth. The land is cleansed of idolatry. Jehu sits victoriously on Israel’s throne. His bloody zeal for the Lord is certainly relentless. A happy ending, then?

And the Lord said to Jehu, “Because you have done well in carrying out what is right in my eyes, and have done to the house of Ahab according to all that was in my heart, your sons of the fourth generation shall sit on the throne of Israel.” But Jehu was not careful to walk in the law of the Lord, the God of Israel, with all his heart.

Despite Ahab's house being destined for ruin by the justice of God, we are told that this is the beginning of the end for the northern kingdom of Israel. On his deathbed, Elisha laments that Jehu’s descendent Joash will only temporarily delay the Syrians. Though the legacy of David sustains Judah for generation after generation, there is something that Jehu lacks. For all the raging fury of the ancients running through his veins, Jehu knows precious little of the God of Israel. Later on, his taste for blood is specifically condemned by the prophet Hosea, who reflects on behalf of the Lord:

I desire mercy and not sacrifice,
the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings.

Chariots of Fire (II Kings 1-7)

2008-03-07T00:29:00.002-05:00

With apologies to Gustave Dore (and every other biblical illustrator), Elijah did not ride a chariot of fire into Heaven. Yup, you heard that right.

The story begins with him and his apprentice, Elisha, travelling together. Elisha knows somehow that this is the day that the Lord will take his master away, and so takes special care to remain by his side (despite Elijah’s hints to let him go on alone). Elisha asks to be his heir – his first born – receiving a double portion of his spirit. The apprentice will not let go of his master until he blesses him.

Suddenly a furious detachment of fiery chariots roar between the two of them. From the other side of the train, Elisha watches helplessly as his master is taken up to Heaven in a whirlwind. Looking up, he cries:

My father, my father! The chariots of Israel and its horsemen!

I’m no Old-Testament scholar, but these chariot-drivers seem like the same warriors that guarded Eden with the flaming sword. The cherubim are the gatekeepers of the throne of the Almighty, who firmly decide that Elisha may go no farther. After picking up his master’s fallen cloak, the grim apprentice heads back across the Jordan to Israel.

Thus begins the ministry of Elisha. His wondrous acts are reminiscent of those of Elijah, and are perhaps even greater. He brings water to a parched army dying of thirst; he supplies oil to a widow about to lose everything to a creditor, he provides a son to a barren woman and later raises him from the dead; he cures a Syrian general from his leprosy; he even causes an axe head to float so that the man can return it to the one who lent it to him; he announces God’s rescue of starving Samaria from a deadly siege. These are more than mere marvels; they are prophetic symbols of the God who intends to bring hope to the hopeless.

One day, the king of Syria sends an army to apprehend Elisha.

When the servant of the man of God rose early in the morning and went out, behold, an army with horses and chariots was all around the city. And the servant said, “Alas, my master! What shall we do?” He said, “Do not be afraid, for those who are with us are more than those who are with them.” Then Elisha prayed and said, “O Lord, please open his eyes that he may see.” So the Lord opened the eyes of the young man, and he saw, and behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha.

He makes his messengers winds, and his ministers a flaming fire. The chariots of Israel and its horsemen are not a taxi service to Heaven. The Lord is acting here, now, on this Earth, through his prophet, to topple those tyrants who would aggrandize themselves, and to bring relief to a famished people who have forgotten how to hope.

Folly from God (I Kings 20-22)

2008-02-07T01:41:00.000-05:00

I can’t think of very many figures in the Bible more fitting for a Shakespeare adaptation than King Ahab. The character of Macbeth may very well have been inspired by him. Here we have an evil, ambitious man, who becomes just conscious enough that he is in the wrong to have regrets, but isn’t able to truly repent. Ahab, thy name is tragic.

His downfall begins with a war against king Ben-hadad of Syria. The Syrian king, sensing weakness, bullies Ahab into a political corner. The desperate and terrified king is forced into open war. Ben-hadad is assured by his servants that Israel’s god is a hill deity, and will therefore be unable to defeat them in the open plain. The Lord decides that it is time for a little object lesson for the Syrians, to teach them just who they are dealing with.

The Israelites crush the Syrian army. After the battle, Ben-hadad comes crawling to Ahab begging for mercy. After agreeing to reparations and treaties favorable to Israel, Ahab lets Ben-hadad go free. Big mistake. A prophet quickly confronts Ahab for his fundamental misunderstanding of the source of his victory. The Lord didn’t defeat the Syrians so that Ahab could increase his political mojo; Ben-hadad was not his to show mercy to.

And he said to him, “Thus says the Lord, ‘Because you have let go out of your hand the man whom I had devoted to destruction, therefore your life shall be for his life, and your people for his people.’” And the king of Israel went to his house vexed and sullen and came to Samaria.

Ahab then has his wife Jezebel condemn a man named Naboth to death on trumped up charges of cursing the Lord so that he can confiscate his property. In response to this deceptive murder for gain, Elijah prophesies that Ahab and his house will die off and be eaten by dogs. This, coming from the prophet who beat 400 others in the showdown on Mt. Carmel, makes quite an impression:

And when Ahab heard those words, he tore his clothes and put sackcloth on his flesh and fasted and lay in sackcloth and went about dejectedly. And the word of the Lord came to Elijah the Tishbite, saying, “Have you seen how Ahab has humbled himself before me? Because he has humbled himself before me, I will not bring the disaster in his days; but in his son's days I will bring the disaster upon his house.”

Ultimately the king of Israel is doomed by his own blind ambition. After three years of peace, Ahab conspires with Jehoshaphat, the king of Judah, to take the city of Ramoth-Gilead from the Syrians in a surprise attack. Ahab has the prophets of the Lord inquire for him. They all return with promises of success – some even taking the time to bring iron horns into the throne room as a visual aid. When Jehoshaphat asks Ahab if all the prophets are accounted for, he responds that the one absent is the distasteful Micaiah, who never says anything good about him.

So Micaiah is summoned. He initially repeats the positive words of his contemporaries, but Ahab will have none of that:

How many times shall I make you swear that you speak to me nothing but the truth in the name of the Lord?

Touché. “Truth” is indeed the theme here. Micaiah explains that he saw a vision of the heavenly council, with the Lord asking for suggestions as to the most appropriate way to entice greedy Ahab to go and get himself killed in battle against Syria. An enthusiastic spirit stands up and volunteers to be “a lying spirit in the mouth of all his prophets.” The Lord agrees that this is just the sort of thing Ahab would fall for, and grants his permission. Micaiah then summarizes Ahab’s situation:

Now therefore behold, the Lord has put a lying spirit in the mouth of all these your prophets; the Lord has declared disaster for you.

Ahab’s response is classic:

And the king of Israel said to Jehoshaphat, “Did I not tell you that he would not prophesy good concerning me, but evil?”

Nope – there’s no getting one past clever Ahab. He sees right through the old lying spirit trick. With this knowledge, he then rides off into battle disguised as a common general, and is promptly shot dead by a stray arrow. To top off this cup of poetic justice, his servants end up washing the royal chariot at the exact same spot where poor Naboth was executed, and a pack of dogs lap up the king's blood.

I have a lot of trouble with this story. It just doesn’t sit with me that the source of all truth is said to be employing the father of lies in his service. But it is reminiscent of the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart, and of Paul’s letter to the Thesselonians:

Therefore God sends them a strong delusion, so that they may believe what is false, in order that all may be condemned who did not believe the truth but had pleasure in unrighteousness.

Ahab had a chance to honor the truth, but has chosen to consistently pursue his own political ambition rather than the heart of God. Hence he is given over to deception, and becomes a willing accomplice in his own destruction.

A Dry and Weary Land (I Kings 15-19)

2008-01-21T01:49:00.000-05:00

While Asa, the great-grandson of Solomon, leads Judah into a long reign of relative peace and prosperity, Israel spirals into a frightful series of coups, purges, and civil wars. Jeroboam’s entire family is annihilated by Baasha, whose family is then slaughtered by his general Zimri, who is himself burned alive with his family in a siege by the commander Omri. This sets the stage for the reign of the infamous king Ahab:

Ahab the son of Omri did evil in the sight of the Lord, more than all who were before him. And as if it had been a light thing for him to walk in the sins of Jeroboam the son of Nebat, he took for his wife Jezebel the daughter of Ethbaal king of the Sidonians, and went and served Baal and worshiped him. …Ahab did more to provoke the Lord, the God of Israel, to anger than all the kings of Israel who were before him.

Including, it seems, approving of his queen’s wholesale slaughter of the prophets of God. It is in these dark times that the prophet Elijah announces a drought throughout the land.

Elijah then escapes across the Jordan and finds refuge with a starving widow and her son. Though they have almost nothing, the Lord miraculously extends their food supply to sustain them. Later on the widow’s son slips into a coma. After the prophet prays over him three times, the boy recovers his life.

It’s a preview of things to come. Israel is starving under three years of drought and near death when Elijah suddenly returns to challenge Ahab. The king brings his 450 prophets of Baal to Mount Carmel, where they engage in a contest of strength between their gods.

The rules are simple and scientific: kill two bulls on two different altars, and have both sides pray to their god. The altar that is lit with fire from heaven is that of the true god. Elijah lets the prophets of Baal go first. Though they pray, scream, chant, and mutilate themselves for hours, nothing happens. Then it’s Elijah’s turn.

Elijah the prophet came near and said, “O Lord, God of Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, let it be known this day that you are God in Israel, and that I am your servant, and that I have done all these things at your word. Answer me, O Lord, answer me, that this people may know that you, O Lord, are God, and that you have turned their hearts back.” Then the fire of the Lord fell and consumed the burnt offering and the wood and the stones and the dust… And when all the people saw it, they fell on their faces and said, “The Lord, he is God; the Lord, he is God.”

After Elijah and the indignant mob kill all 450 of the prophets of Baal, rain finally thunders down from heaven. But Jezebel soon hears of it, and Elijah must once again run for his life. Feeling depressed and defeated, Elijah asks the Lord to take away his life. What follows is a classic and memorable conversation between God and one his prophets:

And behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind tore the mountains and broke in pieces the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. And after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire the sound of a low whisper. And when Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his cloak and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave.

And behold, there came a voice to him and said, “What are you doing here, Elijah?”

He said, “I have been very jealous for the Lord, the God of hosts. For the people of Israel have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword, and I, even I only, am left, and they seek my life, to take it away.”

And the Lord said to him, “Go, return on your way to the wilderness of Damascus. And when you arrive, you shall anoint Hazael to be king over Syria. And Jehu the son of Nimshi you shall anoint to be king over Israel, and Elisha the son of Shaphat of Abel-meholah you shall anoint to be prophet in your place. And the one who escapes from the sword of Hazael shall Jehu put to death, and the one who escapes from the sword of Jehu shall Elisha put to death. Yet I will leave seven thousand in Israel, all the knees that have not bowed to Baal, and every mouth that has not kissed him.”

Look not to the great wind, or the earthquake, or the fire, but to the sound of a low whisper. Look to the still body of a widow’s dying son. Look to the landscape that is dry and lifeless. Look to the nation that has proved itself violently idolatrous. It is here that the Lord of Israel will come – pouring life on the unconscious child, water on the thirsty land, and his spirit on the people’s rebellious hearts.

Salvation is of the Jews (I Kings 13)

2007-12-28T00:19:00.001-05:00

In my last post on I Kings 11-14, I skipped one of the stranger and more troubling stories I have come across in the Bible so far. For days it baffled me, and yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that it had the mark of something important. I couldn’t leave the story behind.

It begins with a “man of God” leaving his home in Judah to confront king Jeroboam in Bethel for his idolatry. He offers a dismal prophecy of a king of David’s line burning the dead bodies of the priests there on their own alter. After pacifying the initially furious Jeroboam with a demonstration of God’s power, the king begs the man to dine with him. The man of God refuses, saying:

If you give me half your house, I will not go in with you. And I will not eat bread or drink water in this place, for so was it commanded me by the word of the Lord, saying, ‘You shall neither eat bread nor drink water nor return by the way that you came.’

So the man of God departs. However, on his way, he is intercepted by a local prophet who also asks him to stay for dinner. The man of God refuses, but the deceitful prophet insists that the Lord himself commanded him to issue the invitation. So the man of God stays the night.

As they sit together, the same prophet who lied to him is suddenly overcome by the Spirit of the Lord, and pronounces a message of judgment against the man of God for disobeying his explicit orders. After he leaves, the man of God is killed by a lion on the road who leaves his body uneaten.

And the prophet took up the body of the man of God and laid it on the donkey and brought it back to the city to mourn and to bury him. And he laid the body in his own grave. And they mourned over him, saying, “Alas, my brother!” And after he had buried him, he said to his sons, “When I die, bury me in the grave in which the man of God is buried; lay my bones beside his bones. For the saying that he called out by the word of the Lord against the altar in Bethel and against all the houses of the high places that are in the cities of Samaria shall surely come to pass.”

The story concludes with a statement that Jeroboam would continue with his idolatry, leading to the total annihilation of his house.

I honestly had the hardest time making heads or tails of this incident. On the face of it, it seems horribly harsh for the Lord to kill the man of God from Judah for what appears to be an honest mistake. And the behavior of the prophet in Bethel just doesn’t make sense. Most commentaries I turned to weren’t terribly helpful. I was assured that obeying God is good, that lying to people about God is bad, that falling for lies about God is bad, and that repenting of lying to people about God is good.

Yet the whole thing has the subtle feel of national allegory: prophets acting out the fate of the people before the Lord. Finally, I stumbled across a treatment by Karl Barth that helped get me on the right track. Barth saw the two men as representing the two kingdoms – Judah and Israel – with their interactions foreshadowing the rest of the story of the book of Kings (and ultimately the story of Jesus).

In this light, we see Judah as the faithful bearer of the word of the Lord. The hammer of God’s judgment is to fall most heavy and decisively against Israel for the sin of Jeroboam. It is the role of Judah to stand as a witness against the house of Israel and demand harsh unconditional repentance. Israel, on the other hand, will continually tempt Judah toward the more friendly and congenial way of compromise.

In the end, Israel will drag Judah down into his sin, for which Judah will face the judgment of God. Judah will lie desolate and be cut off from his ancestral homeland. But compare the unmolested body of the man of God with the burned bones of the idolatrous prophets (or the promise that Jeroboam’s offspring will be eaten by dogs and birds). Burial symbolizes hope – hope that though a man die in exile, his bones may once again be taken back to the land of promise.

If Israel is to be saved, despite his multitude of sins, it will be by clinging to this lifeless but somehow preserved corpse of Judah. It is in being buried with the son of David, who brought Israel’s sin upon himself after pronouncing God’s judgment, that Israel will ultimately find redemption. Salvation is of the Jews, and from the king of the Jews it will come.

The Design Matrix

2007-12-20T00:41:00.001-05:00

Mike Gene, of Telic Thoughts, has just finished a fascinating new book on Intelligent Design called The Design Matrix: A Consilience of Clues (the promotional animation was done by yours truly). After becoming a little disillusioned with the ID movement a couple of years ago, I stumbled across Mike’s site and found his unique approach refreshing and constructive. So, without further ado, here is Wonders for Oyarsa’s first book review!

A New Look

The ID debate is one of the most polarized and ugly fights you’ll ever come across, and Mike is well aware of the difficulty he faces even being heard. He makes it clear from the beginning that he does not believe Intelligent Design is science, does not think it should be taught in the public schools, and does not deny evolution. He simply has no interest in the political side of ID. Rather, he is interested in the insights that telic thinking may bring to looking at the origin of life. He is interested in the beginnings of an investigation.

Mike deftly reframes the debate away from the traditional template, which focuses on either disproving evolution (thus establishing design) or showing evolution to be possible (thus removing the need for design). The origin of life, after all, is not a matter of absolute certainty or mathematical law, but of history. We are not ultimately interested in what could have happened, but what we think actually did happen. Thus Mike suggests we eschew dogmatic absolutes for the attitude of a private investigator. It is certainly possible that life was designed, but what sort of clues might make us think it plausible? What sort of evidence and confirmation would convince us that it is not only plausible, but probable?

It’s interesting how far meekness can go in a polarized debate – be it over science, politics, philosophy, or religion. There’s no shortage of bombastic apologists for both sides, railing about how only a total fool could fail to see the rightness of their position. When one person confidently boasts that the evidence for design is overwhelming and another loudly screams that it is nonexistent, most folks are inclined to avoid the whole discussion. But when Mike says the idea is interesting and invites us to take a closer look, we want to join him.

Curiouser and Curiouser

Having established a tone of curiosity, Mike considers the clues. At the most basic level of the cell, life looks like sophisticated nanotechnology. Though we once considered it little more than a sac of chemicals, it turns out that biology at this scale has a great deal in common with engineering, to the point where biology journals sound more like engineering publications than those of other physical sciences. Calling multiple-protein complexes “molecular machines” is more than mere metaphor. To get a faint glimpse of what he’s talking about, take a look at this computer animated journey into the cell created by the Harvard Biovisions group. The core architecture of life has the complexity and organization of a modern city, all easily resting on the point of a pin.

The grandeur and majesty of life on this scale never ceases to amaze me. To think of it as a bunch of chemical reactions is as misleading as considering Mont St. Michel a stack of stones, the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel a series of brush strokes, or Google’s search database a series of ones and zeroes. When biologists fail to develop the discipline and intuition of engineers who actually build things, I suspect they risk giving hostages to fortune. The stuff has to work, after all, and that's a pretty harsh requirement for any system – be it constructed out of molecules or metal.

Mike, of course, finds this all very suggestive. William Paley once argued that one may reasonably infer life to be designed in the same way you assume a watch on the beach is not a natural phenomenon. David Hume countered that, though life might appear to be in the same category as the watch, the similarities are superficial and the analogy weak. But, while Hume may have been right about human organs like the eye, the recently discovered and unexpected echoes of technology in the most basic unit of life are another matter entirely. Mike then turns to Darwin’s theory of Evolution – which has some much more challenging observations for any design inference.

Front Loading Evolution

Darwin showed how systems which may appear designed from the outset may nevertheless have evolved over time through purely natural processes. Natural selection is a fact of life. It is what happens to any flexible self-replicating system over time or in a changing environment. Mike recognizes the power of natural selection to act as a designer-mimic, but he doesn’t abandon his suspicion of design in the face of evolution. Instead, he suggests a way where Darwinian evolution might actually be employed in the service of intelligent design.

And so he offers his front-loading hypothesis. Since the basic architecture of life seems to be the most difficult thing to explain by modern origin of life theories – the characteristics of the genetic code, the modularity of proteins, and the interdependency of DNA, RNA, and molecular machines – he suggests we envision a human-like intelligence designing a single cell as a seed for life on Earth. Would it be possible to employ Darwinian evolution to unfold a carefully-packaged design?

Mike looks at the clues that make such an idea seem plausible. Every life form on earth shares a huge proportion of the same DNA. Evolution, on the genetic level, seems to operate mostly by tinkering with copies of genes. Mike goes into great technical detail to show how key templates for advanced organisms could be encoded into the core functions of the cell, ready to pop into use as soon as there is a need. It is the very blindness and short-sightedness of Natural Selection that would make it exploitable by careful foresight. According to Mike’s hypothesis, if we were to obliterate all life on Earth and replace it with the same seed cell it started with, we would see it unfold in much the same way as it did billions of years ago, and eventually find creatures not all that different from the ones we have today.

Those who create computer programs, which eventually crash due to unforeseen bugs, will appreciate front-loading as a huge challenge, one which is solvable only by the most brilliant of minds. For those who believe on different grounds that there is a mind ultimately responsible for the creation of the world, the picture Mike paints evokes wonder and awe at the glory and wisdom of God. If this is the mode of creation, it also raises some fascinating philosophical and theological questions, which I may explore elsewhere.

The Matrix

The presence of a front-loaded current running through evolution poses a unique problem for detecting design. How do you distinguish between the core design and the jerry rigged solutions of natural selection? True to his modest methodology, Mike eschews black-and-white certainty for his design matrix: a subjective (but useful) scoring system to gauge our confidence in a design inference.

The matrix score is based on four parameters: analogy, discontinuity, rationality, and foresight. Analogy looks at how closely the solution matches something we ourselves have designed. Discontinuity looks at irreducible complexity, and how difficult it would be for natural selection alone to arrive at the solution by cooption. Rationality looks at the elegance and quality of the design based on its assumed purpose. Finally, foresight judges the design based on any long-term planning present. If a solution only scores high in one area, we wouldn’t have conclusive evidence for design, but if it gets high marks in all four, we may conclude that intelligent design is indeed a probable explanation.

Mike ends the book with an invitation to join him on his quest. Having established his theory and methodology, the next step will be to explore the living world in more detail – and see just how well his hypothesis holds up. If he’s right, this approach may turn out to be a fantastic research guide, yielding bold new insights and discoveries about the living world.

I, for one, am intrigued by the possibilities, and I hope you are as well. My recommendation is that everyone go and buy all their friends a copy of his book so that he’ll have the money to publish volume II!

Unless the Lord Build the House (I Kings 11-14)

2007-12-11T23:46:00.000-05:00

Israel is firmly planted in the land. The kingdom is established. God dwells along side them in his glorious holy temple. The nations are flocking to them to receive the blessings of the Lord. And then things all go to Hell.

Solomon arranges the downfall of the kingdom of David by marrying foreign women - one of the cardinal pitfalls warned against in the books of the law. From there his wives turn away his heart and seduce him into building idols to Ashtoreth, Milcom, Chemosh, and Molech.

The Lord pronounces judgment:

Since… you have not kept my covenant and my statutes that I have commanded you, I will surely tear the kingdom from you and will give it to your servant. Yet for the sake of David your father I will not do it in your days, but I will tear it out of the hand of your son. However, I will not tear away all the kingdom, but I will give one tribe to your son, for the sake of David my servant and for the sake of Jerusalem that I have chosen.

Gone are the former threats of annihilating the people and starting from scratch. David and his wholehearted faithfulness really has changed things. Even Solomon’s idolatry is not enough to counter the blessings and promises toward the house of that great king – he will die a wealthy old man despite his sin.

The hammer instead falls upon Rehoboam, Solomon’s son. One of the ongoing themes of the Old Testament that I am slowly growing to appreciate is the connection between generations in sharing blessings and curses, righteousness and sin. Rehoboam is being punished for the sin of Solomon, and it’s every bit his own fault. After ignoring the advice of his older officials, he arrogantly insults the other tribes, which then incites a revolt. As in the garden, rebellion against the Lord is soon followed by enmity among brothers.

The Lord then raises up Jeroboam, who unites the ten northern tribes against the house of David in Judah. He is promised blessings from the Lord equal to David, if only he will be faithful in the same way David was. But Jeroboam is far too practical for such idealism. Knowing that constant pilgrimages to Jerusalem for worship might turn the people back toward union with Judah, he decides to create his own religion:

So the king took counsel and made two calves of gold. And he said to the people, “You have gone up to Jerusalem long enough. Behold your gods, O Israel, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt.” He also made temples on high places and appointed priests from among all the people, who were not of the Levites. … He went up to the altar that he had made in Bethel on the fifteenth day in the eighth month, in the month that he had devised from his own heart.

This is bad…really bad. Jeroboam is Aaron, Korah, and Absalom all wrapped into one. He had a chance to be another great stone upon which he would build the kingdom of Israel, and instead he becomes the mother of all stumbling blocks. I don’t know if I recall seeing the Lord so mad at an individual person before. His pronouncement, when Jeroboam’s wife goes to inquire about a sick child, is shocking, even for the Old Testament:

Behold, I will bring harm upon the house of Jeroboam and will cut off from Jeroboam every male, both bond and free in Israel, and will burn up the house of Jeroboam, as a man burns up dung until it is all gone. Anyone belonging to Jeroboam who dies in the city the dogs shall eat, and anyone who dies in the open country the birds of the heavens shall eat, for the Lord has spoken it… Arise therefore, go to your house. When your feet enter the city, the child shall die. And all Israel shall mourn for him and bury him, for he only of Jeroboam shall come to the grave, because in him there is found something pleasing to the Lord, the God of Israel, in the house of Jeroboam.

In other words, dying of sickness is a blessing for a son of Jeroboam. God sees something worth salvaging in the child, and death and burial is preferable for the utter ruin that he’s about to bring on Jeroboam’s house.

The wrath of God is proportional to the potential of man. I get the impression that Jeroboam really did have the potential to be another David. The promises were all there. David proved it could be done. And though Jeroboam fails, David's house will continue on. God's purposes will be fulfilled no matter what - but it is for man to choose what part he will play in fulfilling them.

In All of His Splendor (I Kings 4-10)

2007-11-19T20:43:00.000-05:00

We have arrived to the high point of Israel’s story. Through the kingdom of David the Lord has finally brought Israel to the fulfillment of all of his great promises:

Judah and Israel were as many as the sand by the sea. They ate and drank and were happy. Solomon ruled over all the kingdoms from the Euphrates to the land of the Philistines and to the border of Egypt. They brought tribute and served Solomon all the days of his life...And he had peace on all sides around him. And Judah and Israel lived in safety, from Dan even to Beersheba, every man under his vine and under his fig tree, all the days of Solomon.

I simply cannot overstate the magnificence of these passages. Never since the creation of the world have the scriptures spoken of such glory poured out on man. This is no less than a glimpse of the restoration of all things. Indeed, what began in the garden is now blossoming into fullness.

Consider the wisdom of the son of David:

And God gave Solomon wisdom and understanding beyond measure, and breadth of mind like the sand on the seashore, so that Solomon's wisdom surpassed the wisdom of all the people of the east and all the wisdom of Egypt...He spoke of trees, from the cedar that is in Lebanon to the hyssop that grows out of the wall. He spoke also of beasts, and of birds, and of reptiles, and of fish. And people of all nations came to hear the wisdom of Solomon, and from all the kings of the earth, who had heard of his wisdom.

Man was given dominion over the creatures of Earth, and the king here is the paragon of this mastery. As the animals came before Adam to hear its name, so the nations come before Israel to receive wisdom.

The great Temple itself is built to be a picture of Eden. Woven all through the architecture are motifs of lilies, gourds, palm trees, open flowers, and pomegranates. Oxen and lions – beasts both tame and wild – feature throughout. And at the center of it all are the cherubim. The heavenly beings once guarding the garden from man’s touch now feature as the centerpiece in the heart of Jerusalem.

There is no symbol for the Lord himself – no idol. The Lord, dwelling in clouds of thick darkness, has not shown them his form. But now the cloud that terrified the people on Sinai and travelled with them with intolerable fury in the wilderness comes and fills the Temple with glory. Solomon gasps in wonder and prays:

I have indeed built you an exalted house, a place for you to dwell in forever...But will God indeed dwell on the earth? Behold, heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain you; how much less this house that I have built! Yet have regard to the prayer of your servant and to his plea...and listen to the plea of your servant and of your people Israel, when they pray toward this place. And listen in heaven your dwelling place, and when you hear, forgive.

Likewise, when a foreigner…comes from a far country for your name's sake… and prays toward this house, hear in heaven your dwelling place and do according to all for which the foreigner calls to you, in order that all the peoples of the earth may know your name and fear you, as do your people Israel.

The unimaginable is happening – God himself, who walked with Adam in the cool of the day, is again dwelling on Earth with his people. Everything is rich, full, and bursting at the seams. The people sacrifice and feast for seven days, as indeed they should: it is like new creation.

The Lord’s presence is filling them with glory and drawing the nations to Israel for blessing to spill out. Solomon grants the Queen of Sheba a grand audience. When she is given all the wisdom she seeks, and when she sees the splendid worship at the house of the Lord, we are told that “there was no more breath in her.”

Thus King Solomon excelled all the kings of the earth in riches and in wisdom. And the whole earth sought the presence of Solomon to hear his wisdom, which God had put into his mind.

In Abraham all the nations are blessed. For one sublime moment, we see a vision of the Earth full of the knowledge of the glory of the Lord, like the waters covering the sea. If God can take an impotent old man, a barren woman, a sniveling mass of pathetic slaves, and a shepherd boy, and mold them into this golden city to enlighten the nations, how will he not also, along with them, restore and renew all things?

Into Great Silence

2007-11-13T22:28:00.000-05:00

Silence, and what is heard therein, has been a powerful theme for me recently. Last week, my wife and I watched Philip Groning’s sublime film Into Great Silence which draws the viewer into the daily lives of the Carthusian monks of the Grande Chartreuse in the French Alps. Then this weekend I participated in a 24-hour silent retreat with some men in my church.

The film itself was wonderful, and I can hardly do it justice here. This is a synopsis I found at Rotten Tomatoes that I think accurately describes the experience:

Into Great Silence fits neatly into the sub-category of films that need to be experienced rather than just watched. Over 162 minutes director Philip Groening films a group of monks who dwell in the Carthusian monastery of the Grande Chartreuse in the French Alps. The monks have taken a vow of silence, and live life at such a gentile pace that it took them 13 years to respond to Groening's request to make a film about them. The subjects of Groening's film fill their days with slow and highly repetitive routines, so the director shoots at a suitably slow pace, highlighting simple tasks such as praying, gardening, cooking, and doing laundry. Groening lived with the monks for four months and worked under strict conditions dictated to him by the order; no voiceover, music, or interviews were to be included in the film, and Groening was to be the sole crew member on the shoot. There are a couple of moments when Groening breaks with his modus operandi. He interviews an elderly blind monk, the Gregorian Chants practiced by the order occasionally feature, and the monks stage a snowball fight on one of their weekly breaks from the monastery. But the film is mostly comprised of a long, lonely trip into silence, and will doubtless leave its audience members in a contemplative and restful state of mind once the journey comes to a peaceful end.

My wife was particularly affected by it, saying “I haven't watched anything less assaulting to my senses in a long time.” The silence and focus of the film brought such awareness to everything around us. Later that night I heard my pants drop to the floor as I crawled into bed, and the sound was deafening. Then out of nowhere came a strange conviction about the haphazard way that I treat the clothes that I wear.

As I entered into the retreat at a farm an hour away from the suburban neighborhood I live in, this conviction stayed with me. I found myself keenly aware that I needed to treat the things I brought along with me – warm clothes, pen and ink, a journal, my Bible – with respect, reverence, and love. I’m a fairly messy person, and have never thought it anything more than temperament, but in the silence I felt called to love the gifts God has placed in my hands.

There’s this thing about silence – it isn’t. There are a thousand sounds I don’t normally hear for my own voice. There is the tumultuous chaos of my own mind that will not stop. Silence is a discipline, and I am certainly a novice.

There were moments that amazed me, walking around the farmland: looking out onto a beautiful field surrounded by trees alight with the fireworks of fall; stooping to examine a fallen leaf and its intricacies; knowing through my own study of biology a piece of how deep the wonder goes in just one cell of that leaf; gasping at the knowledge that this little leaf is one of the billions rustling all around me.

It makes me grateful for the many years of art lessons I took. Drawing is, after all, necessarily an act of appreciation of the other. You have to look at something – a leaf perhaps – and study it for hours, as you painstakingly sketch each detail, each crevice, each highlight and shadow. I never thought of it quite like that, but art is very naturally a spiritual discipline – a school of love.

Eating communal meals together was fascinating. It’s a sacramental thing I suppose – how love embodied in care for material things spills over into love for people. Each taste and sip was done with care, and attention. You couldn’t ask verbally for someone to pass the salt, but what inevitably happened was a heightened sense of the needs of those around you. Afterward we all talked of the constant acts of courtesy and consideration throughout our time together – things of which we would have quickly said “oh no, don’t worry about it” had we only permission to speak. Instead, we had to allow ourselves to receive grace.

The meditation this weekend was Jesus’ healing of the man born blind with dust and spittle. He came to judge the world – to make the blind see and to blind those who think they can see. Or perhaps to mute those who would speak, and in so doing give them ears to hear. I went wanting to hear from God, and not really knowing what that would mean. And I returned not having a word from him, but instead a conviction to continue listening.

And so I was resolved. I returned home determined to bring this newfound intentionality into my own daily life. That evening I was especially determined to help my wife have some space with the kids. But then I was hit with nausea and a splitting headache, and all these intentions went out the window. Today at work was simply more of the same routine. The hectic pace of life drowns out listening, and to a large extent love.

This wonder mixed with helplessness reminded me of this poem by Galway Kinnell that captures it all – silence, wonder, and the frustration of our inability to love as we should in the harsh realities of life.

To Christ Our Lord

The legs of the elk punctured the snow’s crust and wolves floated lightfooted on the land hunting Christmas elk living and frozen; inside snow melted in a basin, and a woman basted a bird spread over coals by its wings and head.

Snow had sealed the windows; candles lit the Christmas meal. The Christmas grace chilled the cooked bird, being long-winded and the room cold. During the words a boy thought, is it fitting to eat this creature killed on the wing?

He had killed it himself, climbing out alone on snowshoes in the Christmas dawn, the fallen snow swirling and the snowfall gone, heard its throat scream as the gunshot scattered, watched it drop, and fished from the snow the dead.

He had not wanted to shoot. The sound of wings beating into the hushed air had stirred his love, and his fingers froze in his gloves, and he wondered, famishing, could he fire? Then he fired.

Now the grace praised his wicked act. At its end the bird on the plate stared at his stricken appetite. There had been nothing to do but surrender, to kill and to eat; he ate as he had killed, with wonder.

At night on snowshoes on the drifting field he wondered again, for whom had love stirred? The stars glittered on the snow and nothing answered. Then the Swan spread her wings, cross of the cold north, the pattern and mirror of the acts of earth.

His grace is sufficient for us.

The Son of David (I Kings 1-3)

2007-11-04T22:58:00.000-05:00

We begin the book of Kings with the shift of power from King David to Bathsheba’s son Solomon. This is a precarious time for any kingdom, where the time is ripe for a new ruler to gain the throne. Civil war is a distinct possibility; the people hold their breath.

Thankfully, the body count turns out to be quite low. Adonijah, one of David’s sons, declares himself king, with the support of Joab the general and Abiathar the priest. But David isn’t dead. Nathan the prophet and Bathsheba the queen plead with him to publicly make Solomon his heir. David agrees. For his presumptuous ambition, Adonijah eventually pays with his life.

In yet another morally troublesome passage, David advises Solomon to kill Joab and Shimei – the former for murdering Abner, and the latter for cursing him. Joab’s case is troubling because David never did anything to him himself (presumably for political reasons) and because he had been loyal to David since then. The latter is troubling because David had seemingly forgiven him when he apologized. Joab is fair game now that he backed the wrong guy, but I prefer justice independent from politics. Shimei is executed for a subsequent crime rather than the one David forgave him for, but I prefer forgiveness to be full and genuine. I suppose they didn’t ask my opinion.

At any rate, Solomon does what he must to secure his kingdom, tying up some of his father’s loose ends in the process. After making a marriage alliance with Egypt, Solomon has a dream where the Lord promises to give him anything he asks. Solomon responds:

O Lord my God, you have made your servant king in place of David my father, although I am but a little child. I do not know how to go out or come in. And your servant is in the midst of your people whom you have chosen, a great people, too many to be numbered or counted for multitude. Give your servant therefore an understanding mind to govern your people, that I may discern between good and evil, for who is able to govern this your great people?

The Lord is pleased, and promises Solomon wisdom, with riches and honor thrown in for good measure. I can’t help but be intrigued by this request to “discern good and evil.” Was that not the tree forbidden to Adam and Eve? Why is the forbidden fruit now so freely and gladly given? Perhaps the Lord’s response holds a clue:

Behold, I give you a wise and discerning mind, so that none like you has been before you and none like you shall arise after you. … And if you will walk in my ways, keeping my statutes and my commandments, as your father David walked, then I will lengthen your days.

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. Obeying the Lord gives safe grounds for the pursuit of the knowledge of good and evil.

We are then treated to a case of Solomon using his wisdom to do justice for his people. It is the famous incident where two prostitutes claim to be the mother of a single child. The king orders the child sliced in two, and a half given to each. The true mother then screams for the baby to be given to her rival, and thus the king knows her for who she is. The people are amazed:

And all Israel heard of the judgment that the king had rendered, and they stood in awe of the king, because they perceived that the wisdom of God was in him to do justice.

Solomon is doing well.

The Condemnation of Philosophy

2007-10-23T01:50:00.001-04:00

Thomas Aquinas was without question the most important Christian philosopher of the Middle Ages. Drawing from the best of classical thought, he wrote vast tomes of Christian philosophy on every intellectual and theological question imaginable. His clear thinking and careful reasoning was foundational to the scholarship of centuries to come. Read far and wide even today, his works have stood the test of time.

Yet a strange event happened near the end of his life that caused him to stop writing altogether. Aquinas had a mystical vision of God, the God whom he had written and reasoned so much about in works that are still world classics, and concluded:

All that I have written appears to be as much straw after the things that have been revealed to me.

I thought of this after being interviewed again by Emery on the A Christian and an Atheist Podcast (download the mp3 here). This conversation, on Genesis, was a bit more confrontational and argumentative than before, but we covered some interesting ground. However, the mystic in me kept running into trouble with the more philosophical questions. There's no getting around it: I'm starting to get awfully suspicious of the philosophical approach to God.

Oh, not philosophy in the broader sense. The love of wisdom is absolutely essential to knowing God. No, I'm talking about the descriptions of God we get based on reason from first principles. We know, for instance, that God is the unmoved mover, that of which greater could not be conceived, the omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent, omnibenevolent, immutable, impassive, eternal being above all. This is God as Plato could conceive him.

Now, on the face of it, this is good stuff. My trouble isn't any sort of logical problem with any specific attribute, or really with the classical philosophers who espouse them, but rather with the overall picture of God that emerges in my own mind. Strangely, when I speak of God with such words, I somehow make him out to be rather...small.

I think of something we know, for instance - say a man. Then I need to alter the picture to fit the philosophical data. Men are moved by other things they interact with in their lives; take away every experience man has by being affected by something else. Men have certain strengths and weaknesses that define them; take away all the weaknesses, and magnify the strengths to infinity. Men often stand in various places - in a building, on a mountaintop, under a bridge; take this away so that the being exists everywhere at once. Men have certain things they know and think about; take away this small subset and replace it with infinity.

What image am I left with? A man standing in a bare white room. Infinity is utterly incomprehensible to me, and so my mind replaces it with the nearest thing we know of: nothing.

Could anything be less like the picture we find in scripture? Take the first ten chapters of Genesis. Here we have a story of God hovering over chaos, making the world, and filling it with life. He makes man to be his stamp on creation, to love him, walk with him, wrestle with him, and represent him to the rest of the world. He becomes angry with man, curses his creation, and prepares to destroy it with a burning anger that only an artist can understand for a work gone bad. He then sees a glimpse of what the work was meant to be in one of his human creatures, and decides to salvage the work after all. He soberly assesses the damage in man, and decides to hold uphold the creation while he begins a great effort to bring man to glory.

Now, an impatient philosopher, armed with his omnimax cannon, can blow the above picture to bits. God is perfect - how can he make something that goes wrong? How can he hover over chaos - he is everywhere? How can man interact with God except as a total puppet, when man is finite? How can man adequately represent God, who is infinite? Why would a perfect God curse his creation - wouldn't he know ahead of time it would go wrong? Why would a perfect artist ever have to be frustrated with his work? Why would God ever change his mind - how could omniscience see new information? How can an immutable God be angry one minute and sober the next? How is it that an impassive God lets man get under his skin?

The questions seem logically decisive, and yet I can't hep but make a qualitative objection. The details may clash with these grandiose terms, and yet the scriptural picture is far grander than my philosophical one. The subject is infinite, and yet the finite model of the scripture comes far closer than the vapid model I receive from the philosopher. For "something" is as many times greater than "nothing" as infinity is greater than "something". We worship a God who is.

In our conversation, Emery remarked that the infinite God could never know the joy of victory or the agony of defeat. For defeat must come from a desire or effort thwarted, and joy of victory comes from overcoming something truly challenging. Yet the scriptures show God as experiencing both time and time again - defeat in the frustration of man's sinfulness, of Israel's unfaithfulness, of Christ's death - and victory in creation's glory, of Israel's redemption, of Christ's resurrection. In reply, one might ask why an infinite God might not know infinite agonies of defeat, and infinite joys of victory, all wound up in the cosmic whirlwind that is his being? But the deeper answer is that, when we use these terms, we mostly don't know what on Earth (or in Heaven) we are talking about.

There seems something analogous here to the physical sciences. Whether it is the wave-particle duality of light, or the Heisenberg uncertainty principle, we have seen how simplistic models and absolute claims must sometimes give way to paradox in understanding deeper realities. Holding two vastly different pictures in tension is often the closest way for us to get at the truth.

And so with God. In scripture we are given a gift beyond measure. We are given something far deeper than a series of abstract statements. We are given a story. We are given a drama that unfolds and expands and progresses, until we find ourselves even now taking part in it. As Chesterton said, it opens to us not only incredible heavens, but what seems to some an equally incredible earth, and makes it credible. We accept it; and the ground is solid under our feet and the road is open before us. For the story fits the lock - it is like life.

Of course any real philosopher will protest loudly that what I really take issue with isn't philosophy at all - but sophistry. He'd surely be right. A disciplined, humble philosophy is an invaluable tool, and I'd hate to genuinely lose all the treasures of classical thought. But then Socrates himself said that the greatest knowledge he had gained was the scope of his own ignorance. And so the glory of God must shatter our models and our philosophies, and show us something far grander than we'd ever thought possible.

Samuel

2007-10-19T11:20:00.000-04:00

The people of Israel finally have a king over them who unites the twelve tribes under the reign of a single dynasty. The story explores the tension between serving the Lord as king and having to submit to a human monarch, as Saul slides further and further into rebellion. But God himself chooses the shepherd David, a man with a heart after his own, to carry his lambs in his arms. Thus begins the golden age of Israel, where the great king David is the standard by which all others will be judged.

Volume One

The Lord is King (1-6)
Serving Two Masters (7-12)
The Man Who Would Be King (13-15)
Height and Heart (16-20)
The Wrath of Man and the Righteousness of God (21-26)
The Fall of Saul (27-31)

Volume Two

Ruling in the Fear of God (II Samuel 20-24)

2007-10-15T00:45:00.000-04:00

The end of Samuel feels a bit like an appendix to me. Here we have a bunch of seemingly unrelated items that didn’t really fit in the main stream of the book (though I would have probably inserted the psalm in chapter 22 somewhere before the incident with Bathsheba if I were the editor). There are two rather troubling stories tucked away here that exemplify what made David a man after God’s own heart.

The first is an incident concerning Gibeon. Apparently Saul had tried to wipe them out, even though Joshua had promised to spare them. Now Israel is facing a famine from the Lord in retribution for Saul’s mistreatment of that people. For the sake of justice, David orders seven of Saul’s sons (sparing Jonathan’s son Mephibosheth) to be handed over to the Gibeonites to be executed, strung up, and exposed to the elements.

But Rizpah, the mother of two of them, watches over the bodies day and night to chase away any animals that might desecrate the corpses. It is the last bit of kindness the poor women can offer her dead sons. David hears of it, and, deeply moved, orders the bodies to be taken down and buried with royal honor with Saul and Jonathan.

It’s a picture of David’s awkward relationship to Saul. The Lord had rejected Saul as king of Israel, while Saul continued to commit atrocities more and more worthy of damnation. The fall of his house to David was just and inevitable. Yet Saul, for all his faults, was still the Lord’s anointed. Upon satisfying divine justice, David refuses to demonize his fallen opponents, opting to honor Saul’s reputation beyond the grave.

The second story involves a plague as punishment for a presumptuous censes by David. There are many troubling elements to the story, not least the fact that the Lord himself incites David to take the censes because he is angry with the people for some other reason. Nor is it clear why exactly taking a censes is such a grave sin.

The Lord then strikes Israel with a plague (no doubt substantially altering the censes numbers) while David looks on:

Then David spoke to the Lord when he saw the angel who was striking the people, and said, “Behold, I have sinned, and I have done wickedly. But these sheep, what have they done? Please let your hand be against me and against my father's house.”

The prophet Gad tells David to make an offering to the Lord on the threshing floor of Araunah the Jebusite. Araunah tells David to take the land and the oxen free of charge, but the king refuses. No, the offering must cost him something. He is the king, and these are his people.

It’s a picture of David’s relationship to Israel. Though he is often a great example for them to follow, he also embodies their national sin in his personal choices. And thus his repentance is their own. He is authorized to wrestle with God on their behalf, and say, like any good sea captain to his superiors, “the actions of my crew are mine, and mine alone.”

Oh Israel, here is your king! He judges your wickedness and rebellion, while offering the rebels redemption beyond the grave. He takes your sin upon his own shoulders, calling for God to punish himself on your behalf. His kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and his dominion endures from generation to generation.

Absalom, Absalom! (II Samuel 13-19)

2007-10-03T21:01:00.000-04:00

All is not well with the house of David. His oldest son, Amnon, has his eye on his half-sister Tamar. With the help of a friend, he arranges for her to be alone in his room. Amnon then wrenches Tamar to the bed and rapes her. King David is furious with his son, but he doesn’t punish Amnon because he’s his firstborn and heir to the throne (and also perhaps because David is ashamed of compromising his own integrity).

This injustice plants the seeds of rebellion in the heart of Tamar’s brother Absalom. In defense of his sister’s honor, Absalom treacherously murders Amnon. David then banishes Absalom, who bides his time for many years. He eventually comes home to Jerusalem, and begins plotting to overthrow David himself.

Absalom is a handsome, charming man, with long flowing hair, riding around the city in a chariot. As newcomers arrive at the city for the king’s judgment, Absalom makes a habit of greeting them at the gate:

Absalom would say to him, “See, your claims are good and right, but there is no man designated by the king to hear you.” Then Absalom would say, “Oh that I were judge in the land! Then every man with a dispute or cause might come to me, and I would give him justice.” And whenever a man came near to pay homage to him, he would put out his hand and take hold of him and kiss him. Thus Absalom did to all of Israel who came to the king for judgment. So Absalom stole the hearts of the men of Israel.

Absalom soon declares himself king and raises an army at Hebron. David is forced to abandon Jerusalem, leaving only ten concubines to keep the palace. Once again, he is in the wilderness fleeing for his life. When Absalom arrives, he sets up a tent atop the palace and ravishes David’s concubines for all to see.

This crafty deception, casting doubt on the character of the rightful king and urging the people to rebellion, is absolutely primeval – reminiscent of the serpent himself. Absalom has murdered his brother (Cain) and uncovered his father’s nakedness (Canaan).

David, on the other hand, goes into exile, tears dropping onto the mount of olives as he leaves the holy city. The true king is rejected by his people and by God. A Benjaminite named Shimei comes out and pelts David and his entourage with stones, cursing the whole way. Though his generals suggest killing the insolent fool, David lets him keep harassing him. He is bearing his own shame and sin before the Lord for taking the wife and life of Uriah. His son is visiting his own sin upon him.

Absalom pursues David across the Jordan where the armies meet in a great battle. David's forces crush the rebels, scattering them in all directions. In a stroke of poetic justice, Absalom, in his haste to get away, ends up dangling from a tree by his long hair. Joab lands three spears in his chest, while his men hack the prince to death.

A messenger brings news of victory to David, expecting a reward. But when David hears the news, he bursts into tears, bawling:

O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would I had died instead of you, O Absalom, my son, my son!

Joab quickly lays into David. His grief is an insult to the men who risked their lives to fight for him. Joab is right, of course, so David does his best to composes himself and honor his loyal soldiers.

Yet there is something worth mentioning even if it is couched in one of David’s flaws. Here is a father who loves his son passionately, even though he is in a state of rebellion against him. How he would gather his son under his wings, like a hen with her chicks, if only Absalom were willing!

And so, as he returns to his city, pardoning even the sin of Shimei who had cursed the Lord’s anointed, David is more than a representative of Israel exiled for his sin. He is an image of the God who loves them, willing to give his own life for them, even as he reluctantly crushes their rebellion.

An Atheist Interviews Me on the Book of Job

2007-10-01T00:54:00.000-04:00

I had the wonderful opportunity yesterday to be interviewed on the A Christian and an Atheist podcast, by a thoughtful and courteous atheist named Emery. It was a great conversation that I thoroughly enjoyed.

If any of you have been dying to hear what my voice sounds like, this is your lucky day! I apologize in advance for the less-than-stellar audio quality coming from my end - it's the fault of my slow DSL connection. Download the mp3 here.

For some reason the show has me wrestling with the responsibility of words. One can now directly play back statements of mine on very deep matters that were made live. Thinking back on what I said, I think even now there are things I might put differently. But that's how spoken words are - they are often a little clumsy - so I suppose we all need to show each other grace and go out of our way to really try to understand someone before judgment.

The Heart of Man (II Samuel 11-12)

2007-09-18T00:28:00.000-04:00

In Deuteronomy, the people were left with this warning:

Take care…lest, when you have eaten and are full and have built good houses and live in them, and when your herds and flocks multiply and your silver and gold is multiplied and all that you have is multiplied, then your heart be lifted up, and you forget the Lord your God.

So falls the greatest king of Israel, the man after God’s own heart. We see the danger signs from the very beginning:

In the spring of the year, the time when kings go out to battle, David sent Joab, and his servants with him, and all Israel. And they ravaged the Ammonites and besieged Rabbah. But David remained at Jerusalem.

It happened, late one afternoon, when David arose from his couch and was walking on the roof of the king's house, that he saw from the roof a woman bathing; and the woman was very beautiful. And David sent and inquired about the woman. And one said, “Is not this Bathsheba, the daughter of Eliam, the wife of Uriah the Hittite?” So David sent messengers and took her, and she came to him, and he lay with her.

Bathsheba’s husband is off fighting in the war that the King ought to be leading, and so David can take her with little effort. But soon he hears the news that she is pregnant with his child.

His first act is to recall Uriah home to report on the war, hoping that the man will sleep with his wife while in town. But Uriah is a total boy scout:

The ark and Israel and Judah dwell in booths, and my lord Joab and the servants of my lord are camping in the open field. Shall I then go to my house, to eat and to drink and to lie with my wife? As you live, and as your soul lives, I will not do this thing.

Ouch. This foreign-born soldier is more righteous here than the King of Israel. And so, knowing that Uriah is right before God, and that his own works are evil, David goes the way of Cain, and arranges for Uriah to die on the field of battle.

The story of confrontation is so famous that I have little to add to the drama. It is the classic exposal of a hypocrite. The prophet Nathan reports to David of a rich man who steals the sheep of a poor man to feed his own guests. David, stirring with righteous indignation, swears an oath to the Lord that the rich man deserves to die. Nathan then points his finger straight at the king:

You are the man!

Thus says the Lord, the God of Israel, ‘I anointed you king over Israel, and I delivered you out of the hand of Saul. And I gave you your master's house and your master's wives into your arms and gave you the house of Israel and of Judah. And if this were too little, I would add to you as much more. Why have you despised the word of the Lord, to do what is evil in his sight? You have struck down Uriah the Hittite with the sword and have taken his wife to be your wife and have killed him with the sword of the Ammonites. Now therefore the sword shall never depart from your house, because you have despised me and have taken the wife of Uriah the Hittite to be your wife.’

David is struck to the heart. He has sinned, not against some no name foreign soldier, but against the Lord himself – no less than if he had struck the Lord’s anointed. By pasturing himself on his sheep, he has shown utter contempt for the shepherd in whose name he rules. And, if Psalm 51 is to be believed, he repents with an agony and sincerity that has since been a model to sinners throughout the ages:

Have mercy on me, O God,
according to your steadfast love;
according to your abundant mercy
blot out my transgressions.
Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity,
and cleanse me from my sin!

Against you, you only, have I sinned
and done what is evil in your sight,
so that you may be justified in your words
and blameless in your judgment.
Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity,
and in sin did my mother conceive me.

Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean;
wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.

Create in me a clean heart, O God,
and renew a right spirit within me.
Cast me not away from your presence,
and take not your Holy Spirit from me.
Restore to me the joy of your salvation,
and uphold me with a willing spirit.

Deliver me from bloodguiltiness, O God,
O God of my salvation,
and my tongue will sing aloud of your righteousness.

Nathan declares that David will be spared, at the cost of the life of the child conceived by the illicit union. Furthermore, the sword will never leave his house, and his own wives will be ravished in public, for all to see.

David prays desperately for the child – hoping that the Lord will change his mind. I can’t help but wonder about the line in the psalm about being conceived in sin. How can one stand before God if his own existence is an act of murderous evil? And yet, he still holds out hope.

But it is futile. The wretched child dies. And a broken, stoic king quietly returns to the house of the Lord to worship.

What are we to make of David? Had ever a servant of God ever risen to such heights? Had one ever before fallen into such grave sin? Had anyone ever repented so passionately?

Though far from perfect, David is a perfect fit for Israel. His heart is their own. It is a heart recklessly and lovingly devoted to God, and yet also riddled with evil intentions from the very beginning. But it is also a heart which clings to the mercy of God, against all odds, despite how very deserving of destruction it may be. It is a heart that believes that somehow God could forgive a child brought forth in iniquity, even with the curse of death hanging over his head.

The Amazing Toxic Asexual Bunny Mutation Simulator

2007-09-10T09:16:00.000-04:00

Lest any of you get the impression that I am a one-trick pony, and write on nothing but the Bible, I'm linking to an essay I guest posted over at Telic Thoughts.

As a Computer Scientist, I never was terribly impressed by the notion of "junk DNA". The idea that 90% of our DNA has no function is counter-intuitive at best. The human genome already seems to be surprisingly small to specify all the information required to describe how to build a human being from a single cell (implying to me some pretty good compression), and further reducing this to the information content of Microsoft Office is not what I would expect. But then again, life isn't always intuitive. Stranger truths have been found in nature, so I suppose we need to keep an open mind.

Then I remembered that we have around 96% genetic similarity to the chimpanzee - meaning large chunks of our genome can be matched up with chunks of the chimp genome almost exactly. These things seem completely at odds to me. If a portion of the genome is junk, than there should be no selective pressure to keep this portion the same. In fact, there may be a functional advantage in removing it altogether (the organism can get by with less nucleotides in its cells). Over 5 million years, it certainly feels like these junk sections would become completely scrambled, rather than maintaining almost total similarity.

So, what better way to demonstrate this than with the clear irrefutable scientific proof of a toxic asexual bunny mutation simulator?

Read the entire essay at Telic Thoughts.

An Unfading Crown of Glory (II Samuel 1-10)

2007-09-04T23:01:00.000-04:00

After the death of Saul, David leaves the Philistines and is crowned king of Judah. Abner, Saul’s general, then proceeds to crown one of Saul’s sons, Ish-bosheth, as king over the other tribes. Thus begins a civil war between the house of David and Saul over the throne of Israel.

David comes out on top. Really it is very little contest – David is a great warrior and a strong leader. His general, Joab, proves a suitable second-in-command, consistently beating Abner in battle.

Eventually, Abner mutinies when Ish-bosheth insults him over one of his father’s concubines. David is pleased to have such an accomplished general now on his side, but Joab will have none of it (Abner had killed Joab’s brother in battle). He lulls Abner into his confidence, and then knifes him in the gut.

David is apparently not powerful enough to execute his right-hand-man, but he makes it clear what he thinks of such behavior.

Then David said to Joab and to all the people who were with him, “Tear your clothes and put on sackcloth and mourn before Abner.” And King David followed the bier. They buried Abner at Hebron. And the king lifted up his voice and wept at the grave of Abner, and all the people wept.

So all the people and all Israel understood that day that it had not been the king's will to put to death Abner the son of Ner. And the king said to his servants, “Do you not know that a prince and a great man has fallen this day in Israel?...The Lord repay the evildoer according to his wickedness!”

Soon afterwards, Ish-bosheth is murdered by his own men. The culprits run to David, expecting a reward, but instead get put to death themselves. Jonathan’s son Mephibosheth expects to be killed, seeing as he is of Saul’s royal bloodline and a potential challenger – but instead is honored by the king as his own son.

Here again, we see the heart of David. Abner may have been his enemy, but he is a prince of Israel. Ish-bosheth may be his rival, but he is the son of the Lord’s anointed. Mephibosheth might be a threat, but he is the son of his dear friend Jonathan. This is not someone consumed by political ambition. This is a king who tends his flock like a shepherd, carrying the lambs in his arms. David loves the Lord, which fuels his love for Israel, and thus he loves even those who might be his enemies.

I can’t help but reflect on the nature of this mercy. It isn’t a sappy sentimentalism – the notion that people ought to be nice to people even if the people aren’t nice. It is a mercy rooted in looking at people on the basis of their standing before God.

Of course, this love for Israel also means fierce fighting against their foreign enemies. Under David’s reign, the Philistines are defeated, the Ammonites are crushed, the Edomites are subdued, the Syrians are routed, and cities like Jerusalem (which never fell in the initial conquest) are finally captured.

In the middle of all this glorious culmination, God himself speaks to David:

I took you from the pasture, from following the sheep, that you should be prince over my people Israel. And I have been with you wherever you went and have cut off all your enemies from before you. And I will make for you a great name, like the name of the great ones of the earth.

When your days are fulfilled and you lie down with your fathers, I will raise up your offspring after you, who shall come from your body, and I will establish his kingdom…I will be to him a father, and he shall be to me a son. When he commits iniquity, I will discipline him with the rod of men, with the stripes of the sons of men, but my steadfast love will not depart from him, as I took it from Saul, whom I put away from before you…Your throne shall be established forever.

It's a key moment - an expansion of the covenant that the Lord made with Abraham. David, deeply moved, and shaking with emotion, replies:

Who am I, O Lord God, and what is my house, that you have brought me thus far? …For there is none like you, and there is no God besides you, according to all that we have heard with our ears. And who is like your people Israel, the one nation on earth whom God went to redeem to be his people, making himself a name and doing for them great and awesome things by driving out before your people, whom you redeemed for yourself from Egypt, a nation and its gods? And you established for yourself your people Israel to be your people forever. And you, O Lord, became their God…For you, O Lord God, have spoken, and with your blessing shall the house of your servant be blessed forever.

Never has there been a leader who mirrors the heart of the Lord for his people so fully. The story has finally moved forward, after stalling in Judges. The conquest is complete, the kingdom is established, and the Lord's anointed is seated at his right hand.

The Fall of Saul (I Samuel 27-31)

2007-08-30T01:30:00.000-04:00

Though Saul has, for the moment, called off the hounds, David doesn’t exactly feel secure. He knows that it is only a matter of time before Saul’s jealousy gets the better of him. So he and his party cross over to Philistine territory and seek refuge from Achish, the king of Gath (Goliath’s hometown).

David slowly lures Achish into his trust, by pretending to raid Isrealite towns. In fact, he raids Amalekite towns, but never leaves anyone alive to tell the tale.

Meanwhile, a great war between Saul and the Philistines is underway. Terrified by the size of the enemy army, Saul tries to consult the Lord (though presumably not with the help of a priest, seeing as he killed them all at Nob). He is met with silence. Desperate, Saul turns to an illegal sorceress to conjure up the spirit of Samuel. The incident that follows is, well, rather spooky.

And the woman said to Saul, “I see a god coming up out of the earth.” He said to her, “What is his appearance?” And she said, “An old man is coming up, and he is wrapped in a robe.” And Saul knew that it was Samuel, and he bowed with his face to the ground and paid homage.

Then Samuel said to Saul, “Why have you disturbed me by bringing me up?...The Lord has done to you as he spoke by me, for the Lord has torn the kingdom out of your hand and given it to your neighbor, David. Because you did not obey the voice of the Lord and did not carry out his fierce wrath against Amalek, therefore the Lord has done this thing to you this day. Moreover, the Lord will give Israel also with you into the hand of the Philistines, and tomorrow you and your sons shall be with me.

Saul falls to the ground in absolute horror. His men and the medium try to get him to eat something. But Saul knows he’s done for. There is nothing to do but wait for the inevitable.

The next day Achish summons David to fight with him against Saul, but the other Philistine commanders see through the ruse. They realize that David intends to turn on them on the battlefield at a decisive moment. David and his men are sent away, and without him, Saul’s fate is sealed.

The battle is a crushing defeat for Israel. David’s friend Jonathan is killed, and Saul is wounded on the battlefield. Knowing the humiliation and torture that awaits him if captured, Saul commits suicide along with his shield bearer.

Despite the fact that Saul was never a very good king, or a very good man, for some reason I can’t help but feel sorry for him. He is tragic. His reign has been one of inadequacy, disappointment, and futility. Ever since the Lord’s rejection, he’s known the fall of his house is coming, and that all of his efforts could only delay the inevitable.

The Lord did reject him, and so perhaps I should feel guilty for my pity. But I don’t really think so. David himself composes a lament so anguished, so grand, and so beautiful, that one can’t help but overlook Saul’s faults:

Your glory, O Israel, is slain on your high places!
How the mighty have fallen!

You mountains of Gilboa,
let there be no dew or rain upon you,
nor fields of offerings!
For there the shield of the mighty was defiled,
the shield of Saul, not anointed with oil.

Saul and Jonathan, beloved and lovely!
In life and in death they were not divided;
they were swifter than eagles;
they were stronger than lions.

How the mighty have fallen
in the midst of the battle!

Then we remember the one truly glorious achievement of Saul. He saved the city of Jabesh-gilead from the Ammonites, who had planned to torture and humiliate them. Now, as his body hangs beheaded and shamed by his enemies, those whom he had helped the most know their duty:

But when the inhabitants of Jabesh-gilead heard what the Philistines had done to Saul, all the valiant men arose and went all night and took the body of Saul and the bodies of his sons from the wall of Beth-shan, and they came to Jabesh and burned them there. And they took their bones and buried them under the tamarisk tree in Jabesh and fasted seven days.

Thus passes the first king of Israel. Though his reign appeared to be a dismal failure, we are reminded by the merciful and loyal heart of David that we dare not look down our nose at the Lord’s anointed – even though he be rejected and condemned by God and men. For it is here, mourned and loved by those whose hopes he had carried, his tortured body tenderly born away for burial, that the first king of Israel most resembles the last.

The Wrath of Man and the Righteousness of God (I Samuel 21-26)

2007-08-22T21:05:00.000-04:00

David is on the run, along with his mother, father, and kin. One easily forgets how, in the ancient world, revenge was taken out on the person’s entire family. Blessings and curses, immortality and utter damnation, were experienced through posterity.

David is no fool. Saul quickly proves to what lengths he will go to eliminate his rival. After leaving Jonathan, David had feigned to be on an errand for the king, and had received provisions from the High Priest Ahimelech. Saul learns of it from a man named Doeg the Edomite, and his retribution upon this completely innocent priest is severe:

And the king said, “You shall surely die, Ahimelech, you and all your father's house.” And the king said to the guard who stood about him, “Turn and kill the priests of the Lord, because their hand also is with David, and they knew that he fled and did not disclose it to me.” But the servants of the king would not put out their hand to strike the priests of the Lord. Then the king said to Doeg, “You turn and strike the priests.” And Doeg the Edomite turned and struck down the priests, and he killed on that day eighty-five persons who wore the linen ephod. And Nob, the city of the priests, he put to the sword; both man and woman, child and infant, ox, donkey and sheep, he put to the sword.

If I pitied Saul before, I do so no longer. He was loath to carry out the Lord’s wrath against the Amalekites – preferring to keep the spoils for himself and his men. However, for the sake of his own wrath, he is willing to devote the city of the Lord’s priests to himself for destruction. Samuel’s words rejecting Saul come hauntingly to mind:

For rebellion is as the sin of divination,
and presumption is as iniquity and idolatry.

Saul’s envy upon his brother “doing well” had sin crouching at his door. Its desire is against him, and it now rules him.

Meanwhile, the Philistines draw Saul’s attention away from David, who makes camp in the wilderness of Paran. Here he encounters a local group of shepherds. Perhaps David identifies with them, having been a shepherd himself, and makes sure his men make every effort to protect them and not exploit them in any way. When the time comes for shearing, David requests that Nabal, their master, share some of the meat of the feast with him and his men who have helped protect the flocks. Nabal not only refuses, but sends David’s messengers back to him with a string of insults. David, is furious. He calls his men together and makes a vow to kill every male in Nabal’s household.

As they are making their way toward Nabal’s house, swords in hand, Nabal’s wife Abigail comes out with gifts for David and his men.

She fell at his feet and said, “On me alone, my lord, be the guilt…Please forgive the trespass of your servant…And when the Lord has done to my lord according to all the good that he has spoken concerning you and has appointed you prince over Israel, my lord shall have no cause of grief or pangs of conscience for having shed blood without cause or for my lord taking vengeance himself.”

David is touched – indeed, he is profoundly grateful. This woman, with her clear-headed gesture of kindness, has saved him in his anger from killing a host of innocent bystanders. (Interestingly, unlike Saul and Jephthah, upon realizing the foolishness of his vow, David doesn’t give it a second thought.) Ten days later, the Lord strikes Nabal dead. David then marries Abigail.

After Saul finishes dealing with the Philistines, he continues his relentless manhunt for David. By chance, the king stops in a cave to relieve himself – the very cave where David and his men are hiding. David’s friends urge him to take this chance to kill Saul, but David only sneaks up and cuts off a corner of his robe unnoticed. Afterwards, David comes out and confronts Saul:

Behold, this day your eyes have seen how the Lord gave you today into my hand in the cave. And some told me to kill you, but I spared you. I said, ‘I will not put out my hand against my lord, for he is the Lord's anointed.’…May the Lord judge between me and you, may the Lord avenge me against you, but my hand shall not be against you.

Saul is amazed, and bursts into tears:

You are more righteous than I, for you have repaid me good, whereas I have repaid you evil…For if a man finds his enemy, will he let him go away safe?...And now, behold, I know that you shall surely be king, and that the kingdom of Israel shall be established in your hand. Swear to me therefore by the Lord that you will not cut off my offspring after me, and that you will not destroy my name out of my father's house.

The two part ways, and I am left awestruck at the heart of David. The man has the spunk of Jacob and the integrity of Joseph. It isn’t just that David is merciful. He is, but the mercy is driven by an intense love for the Lord that I really don’t recall seeing yet in all of Scripture. It is the insult to the Lord first and foremost that roused him against Goliath. Saul is the Lord’s anointed, and so must not be touched, even though the man is actively trying to kill him.

Saul sought to cling to his kingdom despite God’s rejection, so that he fell into idolatry. David seeks first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, so that even Saul recognizes that everything else will be given to him as well.

Height and Heart (I Samuel 16-20)

2007-08-19T01:41:00.000-04:00

Samuel has one last act before retirement: a secret and subversive one. He travels to Bethlehem, to anoint a man to replace Saul as king of Israel. The Lord has told him it is a son of Jesse, so Samuel naturally assumes that it is Eliab, the eldest and most imposing. After all, Saul impressed everyone by his height. But the Lord quickly interjects:

Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature, because I have rejected him. For the Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.

The lord chooses David, the youngest, who had to be called from watching the sheep. Samuel anoints him; the Spirit descends on him, and thus begins the career of the greatest king of Israel, save one.

Time goes by, and Saul and the army continue the war against the Philistines. They soon find themselves in an embarrassing and demoralizing situation. The Philistine champion, Goliath of Gath, makes a habit of coming out each day to challenge their best man to single combat. The man is a giant; even tall Saul and Eliab cannot stand up to him. So they simply stand there, as Goliath curses them by his gods and derides them for being the cowards they are.

Then David shows up to check on his brothers in the army. He hears Goliath’s speech, and is unimpressed. Who does this punk think he is, to insult the armies of the living God? Though he has no combat training other than what he’s learned in shepherding, David volunteers to fight the giant:

Your servant used to keep sheep for his father. And when there came a lion, or a bear, and took a lamb from the flock, I went after him and struck him and delivered it out of his mouth. . . . The Lord who delivered me from the paw of the lion and from the paw of the bear will deliver me from the hand of this Philistine.

Saul has to admit that the kid has heart. And so Goliath finds himself face to face, not with a great Israelite warrior worthy of an epic fight to the death, but with a kid holding a sling and stick, as if he were no more than a dog trying to attack his sheep. The insult cuts deep, and Goliath prepares to kill the twerp.

But David, with a courage and confidence that still sends chills up my spine, calls out:

You come to me with a sword and with a spear and with a javelin, but I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. This day the Lord will deliver you into my hand, and I will strike you down and cut off your head. And I will give the dead bodies of the host of the Philistines this day to the birds of the air and to the wild beasts of the earth, that all the earth may know that there is a God in Israel, and that all this assembly may know that the Lord saves not with sword and spear. For the battle is the Lord's, and he will give you into our hand.

David slings a stone into Goliath’s forehead (knocking him out) and then cuts off his head. With this blow to the enemy's moral, the Israelites have no problem winning a decisive victory.

David gets all the credit. Everyone is quite impressed with him, especially prince Jonathan. He himself had once carried out a bold attack against a stronger Philistine force, confident that the Lord would give him victory. In cocksure young David, Jonathan sees a kindred spirit.

Saul, on the other hand, sees a threat. David’s popularity unnerves him. I don’t know if he had wind of Samuel’s treasonous anointing, but he can tell that the Spirit of God has left him and is on David. So he plans to kill him. Initially, Saul is more subtle. He offers David his daughter’s hand in marriage for the bride-price of a hundred philistine phalluses, hoping he will be killed in battle. David returns with two hundred. Saul then sends men to murder him in his bed, but David’s new wife tips him off and he escapes.

Finally, Jonathan warns David that his father is ready to pull out all the stops. He’s going to have to run for his life. But before he goes, Jonathan and David swear an oath of loyalty and friendship before the Lord.

It’s amazing to me the different responses people have to this young man. The prophet is initially unimpressed because he no form or majesty to draw his eye. His older brother was indignant at this kinsman of his acting like he was someone special. The people love him. The current guardian of Israel’s authority is threatened and plots to have him killed. The evil giant sees him as easy prey, and is lured into a trap. His closest friend confesses that he is none other than the Lord’s chosen king of Israel. And God looks on his heart and is well pleased.

The Man Who Would Be King (I Samuel 13-15)

2007-08-15T23:47:00.000-04:00

As far as Samuel is concerned, Saul’s career is over as soon as it starts.

The first incident seems pretty innocent (not unlike Moses at Meribah). The Philistines are invading with a mind-bogglingly huge army. Refugees are pouring out of Israel into Gilead. Everyone is terrified. Samuel had instructed Saul to wait at Gilgal seven days. When Samuel still doesn’t show up and Saul’s support is beginning to buckle, he goes ahead and offers a sacrifice without him.

Apparently, this was a very very bad move.

Samuel has some choice words for impatient Saul:

The Lord has sought out a man after his own heart, and the Lord has commanded him to be prince over his people, because you have not kept what the Lord commanded you.

Saul has shown, by this little slip of protocol under pressure, that he’s not the sort of King that will follow the Lord’s commands. This seems rather disproportionate to me, and there’s obviously some tension between Saul and Samuel. At first glance it hardly seems fair – Saul never wanted to be king in the first place. Why, we ask, didn’t God pick someone else?

While Saul is trying to get his act together, his son Jonathan runs off with his armor bearer to check out the enemy. Compare Jonathan’s confidence with his father’s indecision:

Come, let us go over to the garrison of these uncircumcised. It may be that the Lord will work for us, for nothing can hinder the Lord from saving by many or by few.

Jonathan and his servant end up killing 20 men, and throwing the enemy into a panic. Saul sees it, and the Israelite army attacks. They end up routing the Philistines. However, thanks to a rash vow of Saul forbidding anyone from eating before they win the battle, the people are famished and end up eating raw meat with the blood still in it. What’s more, Jonathan didn’t know about the vow, ate a bite during his expedition, and is now about to be put to death by his father despite the victory. Thankfully the army will have none of it, and Jonathan is spared.

Finally, Samuel tells Saul that the Lord has decided the time has come to avenge the mistreatment that Israel received from the Amalakites. He is to devote their capital city to complete destruction – people, buildings, and cattle. Saul kills the people all right, but (like Achan at Jericho) decides to keep the cattle for himself, thus reducing an act of divine judgment to a raid for his personal gain. Oh – and he spares Agag, the king, for a trophy. This is the last straw. Upon hewing Agag down, Samuel announces that the Lord has officially rejected Saul as king over Israel.

Saul is actually a perfect example of the reluctant leader – apparently the sort of guy our culture likes. One of my frustrations with Peter Jackson’s The Return of the King was that he made Tolkien’s kingly Aragorn into one of these pathetic guys. We see the desire for power as dangerous above all else, so a good man would avoid it like the plague. The safest sort of ruler would be the mild-mannered man who is forced against his will to lead by circumstances beyond his control, and only does so with great reluctance. He doesn’t presume to know the best decision. He just tries to make the best call he can.

I guess he’s sort of like Esau. The guy never wanted much – just a bowl of stew when he was hungry. He’s humble. He’s practical. He’s not the type to chase after grandiose promises. That is, not until he finds his current station slipping away, and then he’s liable to lash out blindly.

Saul and Esau may be men after our own hearts, but the God of Jacob has someone else in mind.

Serving Two Masters (I Samuel 7-12)

2007-08-14T00:07:00.000-04:00

Samuel judges Israel throughout his life. During this time he persuades the people to give up their idolatry and worship the Lord exclusively. When they are attacked by the Philistines, he prays to the Lord and gives the people a decisive victory. But he finally grows old. Though he has served the people his entire life, they do not want his sons to succeed him as judges.

Behold, you are old and your sons do not walk in your ways. Now appoint for us a king to judge us like all the nations.

Thus begins what for me is perhaps the most confusing and conflicting few chapters of the Bible I have come across so far.

Samuel is deeply offended by the request. He pours out his heart to the Lord, who is quite sympathetic.

They have not rejected you, but they have rejected me from being king over them. According to all the deeds that they have done, from the day I brought them up out of Egypt even to this day, forsaking me and serving other gods, so they are also doing to you. Now then, obey their voice; only you shall solemnly warn them and show them the ways of the king who shall reign over them.

Their rejection of Samuel’s house is the embodiment of their continuous rejection of their rightful King. And yet, in a surprising and unprecedented decision, the Lord commands Samuel to consent.

So he warns the people of what the rule of a king looks like. It will mean stiff taxation, heavy-handed authoritarianism, and the loss of their best and brightest men and women to fight in his wars and run his estate. But the people don’t care – they are jealous of the glorious national pride of the surrounding kingdoms.

Samuel asks the Lord, and he instructs him to anoint Saul the Benjaminite as the first king of Israel. Saul is a rather underwhelming character. He was only in the area because some donkeys ran off, and a servant talked him into paying Samuel to ask the Lord where to find them. When the time comes for his coronation, he is found hiding behind the baggage. But the Lord has a preference for humble beginnings, and reluctant Saul is crowned king. As his first act, he routs a besieging Ammonite army bent on committing cruel atrocities to poor Jabesh-Gilead.

Samuel then gives a farewell speech protesting their ingratitude, and warning them of how dangerous a desire this was. The Lord thunders agreement, and for a moment the people second-guess themselves. They cry out to Samuel to intercede on their behalf, and his response is the absolute paragon of a Biblical mediator.

Do not be afraid…For the Lord will not forsake his people, for his great name's sake, because it has pleased the Lord to make you a people for himself. Moreover, as for me, far be it from me that I should sin against the Lord by ceasing to pray for you, and I will instruct you in the good and the right way…But if you still do wickedly, you shall be swept away, both you and your king.

The people may have their king, but they must take great pains to serve the Lord first and foremost. But the whole thing is rather confusing. The book of Judges strongly implies that the people really do need a king. The very fact that the Lord consents, despite their dubious motives, reinforces this. And are the motives really so bad? Yes they want to be like all the other nations, but Samuel’s sons don’t seem that great. Didn’t the Lord cut off Eli’s house because of his wicked sons?

Then again, this whole notion of a king of (what ought to be) monotheistic Israel is troublesome. Weren’t kings in the ancient near East deified? They certainly were in Egypt, Persia, and Rome – and the psalmist says of rulers “you are gods.” There seems to be an intrinsic tension between serving a lord and worshiping the Lord – between revering a god and honoring the true and living God.

Anyway, despite these deep-seated contradictions, Israel now has a king. They are no longer free to do what is right in their own eyes, but their loyalty is split between the will of their sovereign and their Lord.

The Lord is King (I Samuel 1-6)

2007-08-09T19:08:00.000-04:00

The book of Samuel begins with a touching story that we should be growing familiar with by now. A woman named Hannah cannot have children (much to the cruel delight of her husband’s other wife). In tearful anguish, she cries out to the Lord, and promises that if he opens her womb, she will give her firstborn to his service.

The God of Israel loves this sort of thing! Hannah gives birth to Samuel (meaning heard of God), and composes a song of thanksgiving to the one who sets slaves free:

Those who were full have hired themselves out for bread,
but those who were hungry have ceased to hunger.
The barren has borne seven,
but she who has many children is forlorn.
The Lord kills and brings to life;
he brings down to Sheol and raises up.
The Lord makes poor and makes rich;
he brings low and he exalts.

Indeed he does. The case in point is the current high priest, Eli. His sons are bullying the people bringing forth the sacrifices, taking the choice portions of the meat without even giving them time to burn the fat on the alter. They treat the offering of the Lord with contempt.

Eli tells them they really ought not to be doing that sort of thing. But they don’t listen. And so Eli receives this message from a prophet:

Therefore the Lord, the God of Israel, declares: ‘I promised that your house and the house of your father should go in and out before me forever,’ but now the Lord declares: ‘Far be it from me, for those who honor me I will honor, and those who despise me shall be lightly esteemed.

Meanwhile, young Samuel is growing up under Eli’s patronage in the Tabernacle. One night Lord speaks to Samuel, who is just learning to recognize His voice. Samuel responds “Speak, Lord, for your servant hears,” while God proceeds to tell him about the downfall of Eli’s house. Both his sons, promises the Lord, will die on the same day.

The next morning Eli demands that the poor boy tell him God’s message. Fearful, but honest, Samuel relays the whole thing. With a shrug of his shoulders, Eli responds:

It is the Lord. Let him do what seems good to him.

Compare Eli’s reaction to the destruction of his house to Moses’ on hearing of the impending destruction of Israel. When a people fall under judgment, what is the proper response of their leader? Calm acceptance of their fate? Or wrestling with God on their behalf? Moses pleaded with God and turns his wrath from the people. Phinehas, the son of Eleazar, speared an idolatrous couple and saved the people from the plague.

The Israelites go to battle against the Philistines, and are having trouble. In order to secure the Lord’s help, they bring the Ark of the Covenant with them to battle. This hardens the resolve of the Philistines with the cold courage of despair:

And when they learned that the ark of the Lord had come to the camp, the Philistines were afraid, for they said, “A god has come into the camp.” And they said, “Woe to us! For nothing like this has happened before. Woe to us! Who can deliver us from the power of these mighty gods? These are the gods who struck the Egyptians with every sort of plague in the wilderness. Take courage, and be men, O Philistines, lest you become slaves to the Hebrews as they have been to you; be men and fight.”

The Philistines win the battle, capture the Ark, and kill the two sons of Eli. But they wake up the next morning to find their great idol smashed down before the ark, and their cities suffering horrible plagues. So, in humility, they send the ark back to Israel, with golden replicas of their plague tumors as tribute. (Incidentally, does this shed some light on what it meant for them to make a bronze snake in the wilderness?)

There is a lovely finishing touch to this story. When the Ark returns to Israel, the townsfolk of Beth-shemesh are ecstatic to see it. The glory of the Lord has returned to Israel – to their little town, no less. So they pull out all the stops, offer sacrifices, and throw a huge party. Then seventy of them are struck dead, for looking upon the ark of the Lord. So they beg the Levites to take the thing away.

The message is clear. This God is not to be trifled with. His ark is not a talisman that can be used for the purposes of whoever happens to be carrying it at the time. His promises are not to be presumed upon. Though compassionate and loving towards those in distress, he cannot be expected to simply underwrite the agenda of men, each doing what is right in his own eyes. No, the Lord is sovereign. The Lord is king.

A Year of Wonders for Oyarsa

2007-08-05T23:26:00.000-04:00

Hey Everyone,

It's been a little over a year since I first began blogging the Bible. I've found the experience extremely rewarding, though tiring and overwhelming at times as well.

So far I've gotten through 8,198 of 31,103 verses, or just over 26% of the Bible (if I decide not to go through the deutercanonical books - which are quite tempting since I haven't read half of them). So, at my current rate it'll take me another three years. I'd kinda like to finish sooner than that - maybe the prophets will go faster?

Anyway, I wanted to open the floor up to you folks who have been kind enough to join me so far, and ask if you have any feedback for me.

What posts have been the most interesting or helpful? What am I doing right?
What posts have been the least helpful? What do I need to do better at?
Am I going too slow? Too fast?
What the heck should I do when I get to the Psalms? Any advice on how to blog those without having to do a post for every individual psalm?

Judges

2007-07-30T22:20:00.000-04:00

After the great and terrible events of the conquest, the people of Israel are mired in a cycle of idolatry, affliction, and restoration. The tales of the great Judges that the Lord raises up to rescue his people are among the most memorable in the Bible. But these are very dark times; the book points beyond itself to a need for a leader who will guide the people in the ways of the Lord, and not simply beat their enemies off them when they've gone astray.

Right in Their Own Eyes

2007-07-28T22:18:00.000-04:00

The last line of the book of Judges summarizes the book perfectly:

In those days there was no king in Israel.
Everyone did what was right in his own eyes.

It amazes me how powerful this simple statement is, against the sordid backdrop of the stories we’ve been through. Gideon made an idol which became a snare to his sons because it seemed to be the right thing to do at the time. Shechem conspired with Abimelech to kill his brothers because it made sense to do so. Jephthah made a vow which ended up costing his daughter’s life because he thought it was the best way to ensure victory. Sampson pursued a foreign woman because she was “right in his eyes” and continued to follow them blindly until the Philistines shut them for good. The citizens of Gibeah raped the Levite’s concubine to death because it seemed like a fun way to spend the evening.

So far the Bible doesn’t seem too impressed with pursuing what is right in your own eyes. This has actually been nothing but trouble from the beginning:

So when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was to be desired to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate.

Back in Numbers, the Lord had asked the people to start the custom of putting tassels on their clothing:

And it shall be a tassel for you to look at and remember all the commandments of the Lord, to do them, not to follow after your own heart and your own eyes, which you are inclined to whore after. So you shall remember and do all my commandments, and be holy to your God.

The point could hardly be clearer. The intentions of man’s heart are evil from his youth; he simply cannot trust his instincts. So what can he trust? The answer is, of course, to listen to the voice of the Lord, and do that which is right in his eyes. His are the only ones that see clearly.

So what do the people need? Right now the story is in a holding pattern, or, worse yet, a downward spiral. What can get them back following the law of the Lord, rather than the desires of their own hearts?

If Judges is to be believed, Israel needs a King. Oh, they’ve had plenty of “judges” – great warriors who rise up and beat back their enemies. But this is always damage control. What they need is a ruler who will guide them in obeying the voice of the Lord in the first place. They need someone who hears and obeys His voice.

Abomination and Desolation (Judges 17-21)

2007-07-24T01:10:00.000-04:00

Judges ends with one of the most horrible stories in the Bible. A Levite is traveling with his concubine in the territory of Benjamin. It’s getting late, so they decide to take refuge in a town called Gibeah. A kind man (an Ephraimite himself) takes the couple into his house. After dark, a group of thugs gathers outside the house, demanding the Ephraimite bring out his guest so they can rape him. His reply is an almost exact quote of Lot in Sodom:

No, my brothers, do not act so wickedly; since this man has come into my house, do not do this vile thing. Behold, here are my virgin daughter and his concubine. Let me bring them out now. Violate them and do with them what seems good to you, but against this man do not do this outrageous thing.

There is no angel this time to intercede. The concubine (not the daughter) is actually thrown out to the men to be raped and abused all night long, so that the Levite can escape unharmed.

How terrible! It’s hard to say what is more disgusting to me – the ravenous cruelty of the crowd or the cowardly misogyny of the Levite. I guess this is one of the things that continually appalls me about the ancient world - the utter absence of the concept of chivalry. I wonder when people started to consider it a virtue? Could it be that it was lacking until St. Paul talked of the husband loving his wife as Christ does his Church, giving his own life for her? Anyway, the story goes on:

And her master rose up in the morning, and when he opened the doors of the house and went out to go on his way, behold, there was his concubine lying at the door of the house, with her hands on the threshold. He said to her, “Get up, let us be going.” But there was no answer. Then he put her on the donkey, and the man rose up and went away to his home. And when he entered his house, he took a knife, and taking hold of his concubine he divided her, limb by limb, into twelve pieces, and sent her throughout all the territory of Israel. And all who saw it said, “Such a thing has never happened or been seen from the day that the people of Israel came up out of the land of Egypt until this day; consider it, take counsel, and speak.”

The similarity of this story to that of Sodom is no accident. The implication is clear. A town in Israel has become every bit as wicked as the city that God himself consumed with fire and brimstone. The tribes assemble and vow that the men responsible for this abomination must be destroyed.

Thus begins a war against Benjamin. Gibeah is assaulted twice, but the Israelites are repelled with heavy losses. In anguish, they beg the Lord for help. Assured of eventual victory, they use a strategy identical to Joshua’s attack on Ai. First, they feign retreat, drawing the men of the city after them. Then, a second group runs into the city and sets it ablaze. Once the pursuing Benjaminites realize what is happening, and begin to turn back toward the city, the first army turns and attacks full force. The Benjaminites are surrounded and slaughtered.

In the days that follow, nearly all the tribe of Benjamin is annihilated. And now the men of Israel are upset. Never before has an entire tribe of Israel been lost. They decide to secure wives and provide protection for the few survivors (though not without wholesale slaughter of another tribe’s city to make this possible), so that the Benjamin will eventually recover.

The whole series of events is overwhelming, shocking, and sickening. We are left with a terrible realization. Cities in Israel are now being destroyed in exactly the same manner that the Lord had them destroy those of the former inhabitants. Rather than filling the earth with a people more numerous than the stars in the sky, one of the tribes is now near extinction. The whole project seems to be spinning down into oblivion. If ever Israel needed a savior, it is now.

Strength and Wisdom (Judges 13-16)

2007-07-22T01:09:00.000-04:00

The people once again are given over by the Lord to a group of oppressors for their unfaithfulness – this time it’s the Philistines. As we read about how God raises up this next judge, we are treated to the most dramatic childbirth story since Isaac.

It starts the same way as many others. A man named Manoah has a wife who is unable to have children. The angel of the Lord then appears to them out of nowhere with glorious news:

Behold, you are barren and have not borne children, but you shall conceive and bear a son. Therefore be careful and drink no wine or strong drink, and eat nothing unclean, for behold, you shall conceive and bear a son. No razor shall come upon his head, for the child shall be a Nazirite to God from the womb, and he shall begin to save Israel from the hand of the Philistines.

The stunned couple asks the angel his name, to which he replies:

Why do you ask my name, seeing it is wonderful?

They offer a sacrifice to the Lord, the worker of wonders. The angel then rises up to heaven in the flames of alter. Manoah and his wife fall to the ground, terrified, because they now realize they have seen God face to face.

What a grand introduction to the life of Samson! And, in terms of raw power, the man does not disappoint. When the Holy Spirit comes over him, Samson is simply unstoppable. He tears a lion apart with his bare hands, unhinges the gates of a city and carries them on his back, and kills a thousand men with a donkey’s jawbone.

However, what the man has in strength, he lacks in wisdom and vision. He marries a foreign woman, showing contempt for his father and his nation. His great acts of power throughout his entire career are not motivated out of a desire to lead or save Israel, but only to avenge personal wrongs. And, when the Philistines realize they cannot beat him in a fight, they find him easily seduced by a pretty woman.

This woman, Delilah, feigns love for him in order to determine his Achilles Heel. He tells her it’s being tied up with bowstrings – and the next day he wakes up tied up with bowstrings. He says new ropes never fail – and he finds himself bound with new ropes. He tells her weaving his hair in a loom is the ticket – and lo and behold his hair somehow gets woven into a loom.

It’s apparently great fun teasing her, but eventually she wears him down:

And she said to him, “How can you say, ‘I love you,’ when your heart is not with me? You have mocked me these three times, and you have not told me where your great strength lies.” And when she pressed him hard with her words day after day, and urged him, his soul was vexed to death. And he told her all his heart, and said to her, “A razor has never come upon my head, for I have been a Nazirite to God from my mother's womb. If my head is shaved, then my strength will leave me, and I shall become weak and be like any other man.”

Samson is a total fool - a icon of strength without wisdom. His idiocy is downright painful to watch. He wakes up to find his hair cut and his strength gone. The Philistines capture him, blind him, and chain him to a millstone (rewarding Delilah with a fortune). So much for the deliverer of Israel.

Though Samson may not be a great leader or visionary, there is actually a sense in which he is the perfect representative of Israel. The people as a whole are just like him! They are the product of an amazing miraculous promise, and have a high calling that will bring blessing to the world. The Lord is faithful to them, giving them great power over their enemies. And yet they are petty, easily distracted by worthless pursuits, lacking the vision to appreciate what God has given them. The secret of Israel’s power lay in their covenant with God, but they are easily seduced to follow other gods. Though their enemies could never conquer them with the Lord on their side, they are now easily oppressed and humiliated.

And yet, like the mutilated Samson grinding at the mill, they cry out to the Lord for help and restoration.

Samson’s story ends with the Holy Spirit descending on him for a final blaze of glory. He had been brought to the temple of Dagon as a trophy during a great Philistine celebration. Now he stretches out his great arms against the central pillars and brings the entire building down on top of him. And we are told that Samson killed in his death more Philistines than he did in his life.

Here again is a shadow of things to come. There will be a king who is both the power and wisdom of God. Israel’s greatest salvation for the world will come by this king stretching out his arms and dying. He will bring more blessing to the nations in that one moment than all the acts of Israel throughout their history.

What I Have Vowed I Will Pay (Judges 10-12)

2007-07-15T15:23:00.000-04:00

In the Law, the people are given this restriction:

No one born of a forbidden union may enter the assembly of the Lord. Even to the tenth generation, none of his descendants may enter the assembly of the Lord.

I’m not sure what it means by “a forbidden union” – but if it includes prostitution, it includes Jephthah. Raised along with his father’s legitimate sons, he is later thrown out of his home by his brothers and has to make his way as a brigand in the wilderness.

About this time Israel is being oppressed by the Ammonites for their idolatry. They beg the Lord to save them, to which he sarcastically replies:

Go and cry out to the gods whom you have chosen; let them save you in the time of your distress.

Not daunted, the people continue to beg and plead, and even chuck their idols to prove their sincerity. The Lord finally softens and gets himself riled up over their misery. So, with classic Biblical irony, the he sends them Jephthah for a deliverer. His initial reaction has the same indignant cynicism we just heard from God:

Did you not hate me and drive me out of my father's house? Why have you come to me now when you are in distress?

The people again prove their sincerity by making Jephthah their leader, with all the rights and privileges thereof. As the Spirit of the Lord prepares him for battle, Jephthah makes a vow that will live in infamy:

If you will give the Ammonites into my hand, then whatever comes out from the doors of my house to meet me when I return in peace from the Ammonites shall be the Lord's, and I will offer it up for a burnt offering.

He proceeds to beat the Ammonite army, of course, and then heads back to his house:

And behold, his daughter came out to meet him with tambourines and with dances. She was his only child; besides her he had neither son nor daughter. And as soon as he saw her, he tore his clothes and said, “Alas, my daughter! You have brought me very low, and you have become the cause of great trouble to me. For I have opened my mouth to the Lord, and I cannot take back my vow.”

Jephethah is true to his word. His daughter is an amazingly good sport about it too. She tells her father not to feel bad about the vow, and just give her a few months to grieve with her friends over the fact that she will die a virgin. Apparently it later became a tradition for the young women of Israel to spend a few days each year mourning her fate. Meanwhile, we are left aghast and sputtering!

What are we to make of this? How are we supposed to react to such a story? There are so many questions and problems with it it’s hard to know where to start. What was the point of this vow? The law has firm restrictions on what can be sacrificed to the Lord, and it does not include daughters! How could Jephthah, in good conscience, vow to sacrifice what he did not know to be clean?

And doesn’t the Lord say he hates child sacrifice? Didn’t he make it quite plain that the inhabitants of Canaan sacrifice their Children in the fire to Moloch, which is a big reason why they were being dispossessed? Didn’t he specifically say Israel was not to worship the Lord in this way?

The text doesn’t really seem to give us any clues on how to deal with this. All we know is that Jephthah chooses to lead the people that have rejected him; that he makes an unconditional vow in order to deliver the people from the Ammonites; that this vow ends up costing him what is most precious in the world to him; that Jephthah keeps his vow despite the cost.

Indeed, after all this, poor Jephthah ends up having to fight off the Ephriamites, who call him a brigand and a fugitive. Jephthah is from Gilead after all, the land east of the Jordan that is not technically part of the Promised Land. They had built an altar of witness to remind the other tribes that they too are heirs of the promise to Abraham, but this doesn’t seem to matter.

Jephthah makes a rash vow, and ends up doing something that even he should have realized was indefensible. However, I can’t help but remember how the story began, and see Jephthah as an image of God’s heart towards his people. After all, the Lord has been rejected by them again and again. He made vows to Noah not to destroy the Earth, to Abraham to bless the nations through him, and to Moses to continue to go alongside the people of Israel. But these vows are looking increasingly rash. As we know, they end up costing him the life of his Son. Furthermore, many for whom Jesus died continue to reject God even after such a horrible sacrifice.

The author of Hebrews remembers Jephthah as one “of whom the world was not worthy.” Nor are the people of Israel worthy of their God; they are actually a rebellious and stubborn people. Yet they can rest easy in one thing: the God of Israel always keeps his promises, no matter the cost.

A Stone Will Come Back on Him (Judges 9)

2007-07-09T23:24:00.000-04:00

We come to the brief and dismal story of Gideon’s sons. The people had asked Gideon to be king over them, and establish a dynasty. But he refused, saying that that role belonged to the Lord himself.

However, one of Gideon’s sons, Abimelech, thinks this role would suit him just fine. He goes to his mother’s hometown of Shechem (for all intents and purposes the capital of Israel) and convinces the leaders to back his claim against his brothers.

And they gave him seventy pieces of silver out of the house of Baal-berith with which Abimelech hired worthless and reckless fellows, who followed him. And he went to his father's house at Ophrah and killed his brothers the sons of Gideon, seventy men, on one stone. But Jotham the youngest son of Gideon was left, for he hid himself. And all the leaders of Shechem came together, and all Beth-millo, and they went and made Abimelech king, by the oak of the pillar at Shechem.

Jotham prophesies against Abimelech, calling for both his destruction and that of Shechem. It is not long in coming. The city revolts against him three years later, and he brings his army to quell the rebellion. The leaders retreat to the citadel, but Abimelech sets the entire city ablaze. It is reduced to ashes along with the leaders.

Abimelech moves on to another (presumably rebellious) city, intending to do the same thing:

And Abimelech came to the tower and fought against it and drew near to the door of the tower to burn it with fire. And a certain woman threw an upper millstone on Abimelech's head and crushed his skull. Then he called quickly to the young man his armor-bearer and said to him, “Draw your sword and kill me, lest they say of me, ‘A woman killed him.’” And his young man thrust him through, and he died. And when the men of Israel saw that Abimelech was dead, everyone departed to his home.

So much for what might be called the first king of Israel. The story is rich with symbolism. Seventy is the number of the congregation of Israel. Seventy souls went down to Egypt with Joseph. Seventy elders were assembled by Moses in the desert. And seventy brothers are killed by Abimelech. The jealousy and murderous treachery of Cain is alive and well in Israel, through a man that would see the nation fall to his own ambition.

But the youngest brother outlasts him. He dies inglorious; his face falls under a rock thrown by the hand of a woman – not unlike Sisera. And we hear the song of Deborah echoing in our ears:

So may all your enemies perish, O Lord.
But your friends be like the sun as he rises in his might.

This Might of Yours (Judges 6-8)

2007-07-07T11:59:00.000-04:00

Idolatry, oppression, rescue, and idolatry again – this is the endless cycle of Israel in the book of Judges. This time the oppressor of choice is Midian, the folks who hired Balaam to curse Israel back in the book of Numbers. It is here that we first meet Gideon, hiding in a winepress to thresh grain without these overlords spotting him. All of a sudden, the angel of the Lord appears to him, greeting him as if it’s an honor to be in his presence:

The Lord is with you, O mighty man of valor.

Gideon isn’t buying it. If the Lord is with them, then why does he have to hide in the winepress for fear of the Midianites? Why indeed, the Lord replies:

Go in this might of yours and save Israel from the hand of Midian; do not I send you?

Gideon immediately pulls out a list of excuses that would do Moses proud. He’s from the weakest clan, and he is the youngest son of his father. But the Lord’s reply to Moses is more than appropriate here. It is no use appealing to lack of eloquence, when you are talking to the one who gave man his mouth to begin with. He called Gideon a mighty man of valor, and, well, when God says things, they happen.

He starts off, admittedly, rather slow. He gets a group of his servants to come with him to tear down the idols of his clan, but does it in the middle of the night. And then Gideon does something to delight our inner skeptic. He runs a series of scientific experiments to verify that this is actually the Lord. Here I am reminded again of Moses’ negotiations, demanding signs to prove to the people that God has spoken to him. But the Lord is willing to go along with this, and I even sense less indignance about it than before. Is God growing more patient with his people?

In attacking the Midianite army, the Lord allows Gideon a mere 300 men. They split into three companies, surround the camp, light torches, blow trumpets, and shout “a sword for the Lord and for Gideon.” The Midianites are terrified – in their panic attacking each other – and Gideon’s little band easily rout an army of thousands. The Ephriamites then raise an army and cut off the escape route over the Jordan.

Gideon crosses over with his 300, pursuing the two kings Zebah and Zalmunna with the survivors of the Midianite army. On the way, he asks the cities of Succoth and Penuel to lend him supplies. They refuse, not wanting to throw their chips in with little Gideon when the two kings of Midian and all their mighty men of valor are still at large.

Finally Gideon catches up with the army, and captures the two kings:

Then he said to Zebah and Zalmunna, “Where are the men whom you killed at Tabor?” They answered, “As you are, so were they. Every one of them resembled the son of a king.” And he said, “They were my brothers, the sons of my mother. As the Lord lives, if you had saved them alive, I would not kill you.” So he said to Jether his firstborn, “Rise and kill them!” But the young man did not draw his sword, for he was afraid, because he was still a young man. Then Zebah and Zalmunna said, “Rise yourself and fall upon us, for as the man is, so is his strength.” And Gideon arose and killed Zebah and Zalmunna, and he took the crescent ornaments that were on the necks of their camels.

“As the man is, so is his strength” – another jab at his calling. But those scoffing lips are soon silenced, and when he returns to Succoth and Penuel, there is Hell to pay for those Israelites who refused to recognize the Lord’s anointed. Gideon is known to be mighty by the only opinion that counts.

The Devices of the Crafty (Judges 3-5)

2007-07-04T01:10:00.000-04:00

Here come the first round of judges! The first of note is Ehud, a Benjaminite. He manages to assassinate Eglon, the king of Moab, who has been oppressing Israel from the east. This is done by securing a secret meeting with the king while presenting him with Israel’s tribute. When they are alone, Ehud stabs him (the Bible is careful to give us all the gruesome details of just what happens when a grossly obese man is stabbed with a short sword) and escapes over the roof. In the immediate chaos that follows, Ehud leads a rebellion resulting in 10,000 Moabite casualties.

Next comes Barak, who is able to rout the Canaanites who have been oppressing Israel from the central plains. Barak had refused to fight without the prophetess Deborah there to hold his hand. For his reluctance, God witholds from him the glory of killing the enemy general, Sisera. That honor goes to the woman Jael. Check out this devious cunning:

But Sisera fled away on foot to the tent of Jael, the wife of Heber the Kenit…And Jael came out to meet Sisera and said to him, “Turn aside, my lord; turn aside to me; do not be afraid.” So he turned aside to her into the tent, and she covered him with a rug. And he said to her, “Please give me a little water to drink, for I am thirsty.” So she opened a skin of milk and gave him a drink and covered him…But Jael the wife of Heber took a tent peg, and took a hammer in her hand. Then she went softly to him and drove the peg into his temple until it went down into the ground while he was lying fast asleep from weariness. So he died.

She sure fooled him – the sucker! But I admit I’m rather scandalized at the use of deceit and treachery to liberate God’s people. I’ve generally come to expect more chivalry from my heroes, but here Deborah and Barak praise Jael to high heaven for her treachery:

Most blessed of women be Jael,
the wife of Heber the Kenite,
of tent-dwelling women most blessed.
He asked water and she gave him milk;
she brought him curds in a noble's bowl.

She sent her hand to the tent peg
and her right hand to the workmen's mallet;
she struck Sisera;
she crushed his head;
she shattered and pierced his temple.

Between her feet
he sank, he fell, he lay still;
between her feet
he sank, he fell;
where he sank,
there he fell—dead.

So may all your enemies perish, O Lord!
But your friends be like the sun as he rises in his might.

Looking back, we do have a string of underhanded heroes in the Bible. Jacob steals his brother’s birthright, Rebecca tricks Isaac into blessing her son and not Esau, and Gibeon secures a place in the blessing of Israel with a clever lie. This is all rather troubling – particularly since shrewd guile was a chief characteristic of the diabolical serpent himself.

Perhaps we are meant to reflect on the subtlety of the God of Israel. Though he himself is more powerful than anything in all creation, he loves to use the weak and the powerless as his agents. The overconfident older brother loses out to the younger. The grand old patriarch is foiled by his wife. The imposing king Eglon falls for a dumb trick. The mighty general Sisera is impaled by a woman’s tent peg.

Wisdom as well as power belong to the Lord. Without his guidance and blessing, the strongest among us have the wool pulled over their eyes, and fall prey to the crafty.

Here Come the Judges (Judges 1-2)

2007-06-24T23:52:00.001-04:00

Back in Genesis, we saw God calling powerful individuals like Abraham, Jacob, and Joseph to carry out his redemptive project. These men took hold of his promises and were obedient to his commands. The results were posterity beyond all hope, reconciliation between estranged brothers, and blessings for the nations at large.

The next step was to scale this up from these archetypes to an entire nation. But how is this sort of faithfulness to be maintained on such a large scale? The first requirement seems to be a leader like Moses or Joshua – someone who can stand side by side with the patriarchs while interceding for the masses at large. But there’s also another requirement:

These words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.

In other words, the devotion to God must so permeate their society on every level that things don’t die off with the subsequent generations. Otherwise, you get this sort of thing:

And Joshua the son of Nun, the servant of the Lord, died at the age of 110 years…And all that generation also were gathered to their fathers. And there arose another generation after them who did not know the Lord or the work that he had done for Israel…And they abandoned the Lord, the God of their fathers, who had brought them out of the land of Egypt.

Death is a profound shadow hovering over all plans and ambitions. No matter how well we do, no matter how we beat the odds and get it right, eventually we will die along with everyone we know. The memory will fade and grow cold, and be in the end so much chasing after the wind. (Are we in Ecclesiastes yet?)

So what does the Lord plan to do? As we’ve already seen, though he’s anticipated this and more, he’s committed himself to this people for better or for worse. Well, if these young whipper snappers don’t care to learn their history, they might as well get a taste of it first hand:

The anger of the Lord was kindled against Israel, and he gave them over to plunderers, who plundered them. And he sold them into the hand of their surrounding enemies, so that they could no longer withstand their enemies. Whenever they marched out, the hand of the Lord was against them for harm, as the Lord had warned, and as the Lord had sworn to them. And they were in terrible distress.

Then the Lord raised up judges, who saved them out of the hand of those who plundered them…Whenever the Lord raised up judges for them, the Lord was with the judge, and he saved them from the hand of their enemies all the days of the judge. For the Lord was moved to pity by their groaning because of those who afflicted and oppressed them. But whenever the judge died, they turned back and were more corrupt than their fathers, going after other gods, serving them and bowing down to them.

Welcome to the book of Judges. It’s the same story of the enslavement and exodus experienced again and again by each subsequent generation. The grand story itself seems to be in a state of limbo. Yet, thankfully for us, it’s a rather thrilling limbo. These “judges” are more William Wallace than Antonin Scalia, so we’re in for a wild ride.

Joshua

2007-06-18T17:17:00.000-04:00

Under the leadership of Joshua, the sons of Israel finally storm into the land promised to Abraham. It's a story of glorious triumph, with crumbling walls, burning cities, and cosmic signs. Though difficult and troubling for modern readers, the story is a powerful example of God's ability and commitment to fulfill his promises and complete the work he's begun.

Be Strong and Courageous (1-6)
Let Him Be Accursed (7-8)
A Sword for the Lord and for Gibeon (9-11)
Genocide for Jesus (12-19)
As For Me and My House (20-24)

As For Me and My House (Joshua 20-24)

2007-06-17T23:42:00.000-04:00

The book of Joshua comes to an end, with this satisfying closure:

Thus the Lord gave to Israel all the land that he swore to give to their fathers...Not one word of all the good promises that the Lord had made to the house of Israel had failed; all came to pass.

Israel, for its part, seems to be returning the favor as well – keeping the commands of the Lord, distributing the land according to his directions, remembering to set aside cities of refuge and other cities for the Levites – when all of a sudden Reuben, Gad, and Manasseh decide to complicate matters.

These tribes, if you remember, are not technically settled in the Promised Land but in Gilead beyond the Jordan. And now word comes that they have built an alter there – presumably as a rival shrine to the Tabernacle of the Lord. The other ten tribes prepare for a war to end this sacrilege. They send messengers to the tribes in Gliead:

Have we not had enough of the sin at Peor from which even yet we have not cleansed ourselves, and for which there came a plague upon the congregation of the Lord, that you too must turn away this day from following the Lord? And if you too rebel against the Lord today then tomorrow he will be angry with the whole congregation of Israel. … Did not Achan the son of Zerah break faith in the matter of the devoted things, and wrath fell upon all the congregation of Israel? And he did not perish alone for his iniquity.

Israel, it seems, has learned this harsh lesson. It is not enough to keep your own hands clean – you must actively root out evil in your midst. Sins of laxity and omission are punished just as severely.

Thankfully the whole thing turns out to be an honest misunderstanding. The three tribes had only meant it to be an “alter of witness” – proving that, though they don’t actually live in the Promised Land, they were nevertheless part of the conquest and heirs of the promise. Phinehas himself, the priest famous for spearing a compromising Israelite at Peor, is more than satisfied with their explanation. The armies breathe a sigh of relief, and return to their homes.

Then Joshua gives one last speech before his death. It’s the same message as Moses’ speech in Deuteronomy: serve the Lord, remember his blessings, do not get complacent, and continue to be faithful. It ends with this famous line:

If it is evil in your eyes to serve the Lord, choose this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your fathers served in the region beyond the River, or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you dwell. But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.

The people pledge to do likewise, and Joshua and Eleazar die in peace. The last of the great witnesses of the exodus have now gone the way of all the earth. We know, of course, that the peace and blessings will not last – Israel will rebel again as the warnings say. But before this happens we are invited to pause for a quiet, pensive moment, and know that now, in this generation, Israel has chosen to wholeheartedly serve the Lord.

Sorry Yanks, I'm on Holiday

2007-06-10T19:24:00.000-04:00

So, you're all probably wondering why I haven't posted anything in over a week on Joshua. You're eager to move onto Judges, because you can't wait to hear reflections on that episode with Jephthah's daughter. Or maybe you have better things to do than check this blog all the time, but somehow find yourself reading this anyway.

Regardless, it's time I came straight out with it - I'm in England for a week with my wife celebrating our anniversary. Read on if you want to become insanely jealous (I'm getting jealous of myself just writing it!)

We spent the first day or two in York, taking a special look at the largest cathedral in northern Europe. We actually took Communion there, which was a rather strange experience. We sat with a handful of others for the service, while a group of tourists larger than us sat on both sides watching and taking pictures. It must be tough business being an English priest at a cathedral like that - trying to treat something like a church while it is also a museum. Perhaps they hope that it is a ministry to some of the tourists, but I could not help the feeling that they were looked at as a spectacle not unlike a rare and endangered animal at a zoo.

Another thing that bothered me a little was the information that the Archbishop of York was responsible for raising the king's northern army, and even leading them into battle. Now, I can imagine a situation where it would be appropriate for a bishop to lead his sheperdless flock into battle, if they were being attacked by a cruel enemy bent on their annihilation. It might well be the godly thing to do. But the English were oppressing the Scots, who were fellow Christians! Would not the right bishoply thing to do be to meet with the Scottish bishops and together insist that their nobles find terms of peace? I know history is more complicated than this, but it seems to me to be quite a scandal. Any English (or Scottish) history buffs want to correct my ignorant ramblings?

Speaking of scandals, it pains me to tears to see all these empty parish churches in York. There were so many, that it was once said you could worship in a different church every Sunday of the year. Now many are "redundant" despite the fact that the population is much larger. And my own fledgling church back home is meeting in a school cafeteria. We would love nothing more a stone English chapel to meet in, but most likely we will never have this. Meanwhile, the churches fall apart, become museums, or get co-opted into pubs or other use. There is still a vibrant Church in England - may God blow these embers into full revival, so that they must build even more!

After York we visited Durham. I wanted the chance to worship in a great Cathedral that is being used as such, and not just a museum. I was impressed by Durham Cathedral as opposed to Yorkminster. They made it very clear that this is a house of worship first and foremost, and that while visitors are welcome, the building does not exist for their gawking but for the praise and glory of God. Their needs come second.

The worship service was interesting. We got to sit in the chior for Matins, which was quite an experience. My wife was impressed and charmed by the choir boys, and we were both impressed by the sermon (in content if not style - we're used to a more dynamic and less...well..."British" tone I suppose). The Holy Communion service was harder for me to engage, for some reason. I could see why, despite my coming to love high-Church worship, people feel the need to strip away traditional trappings to make the gospel "real" to ordinary folks. There was a distant, austere, dryness to much of it that I didn't really like.

Is this wrong of me? I've experienced Anglican worship rich and full of liturgy and seasonal celebration, yet done with evangelical and charismatic enthusiasm. Is it wrong to wish it all were so? Perhaps this is a difference in culture, and what looks to me to be rote dryness is really reverence and awe. But we had that too. I don't know - I just wish in my heart that more of these services in England (and here) could be filled with enthusiasm and life, without sacrificing the tradition, reverence, and awe. I don't think these need to be polar opposites.

Anyway, much to our sadness, bishop N. T. Wright wasn't at the Cathedral, nor was he waiting in his Castle courtyard just in case one of his drooling American fans would come walking by. I mean, come on! I've bought his books! I even came to hear him speak in Roanoke! A little gratitude might be in order from the world's most preeminent New Testament scholar and third-ranking Bishop in the Church of England. So, with a sad look at the empty windows in the castle on the hill, we left Durham without seeing my idol. I guess no vacation can be perfect in this creation still groaning for the glory of the sons of God. We'll have to wait for life after life after death.

So now we're starting on a three-day walking tour of the lake district, and I must say I am already overwhelmed with the beauty of the British countryside. We had driven through Yorkshire on the way to Durham, and that was near paradise. It was a testimony to the beauty that man can create with centuries of loving care of creation - with wonderful stone churches at every turn giving the glory where it belongs. Now the lake district is some of that combined with absolute grandeur. And we get three days of walking this fine country, stopping at inns and pubs along the way.

I had thought Lord of the Rings was a fantasy, and the Shire some idyllic mystical world - but it actually exists! Walking through the green hill country as the road goes ever on and on, and at the end of the day stopping for a pint and meal while meeting fine friendly folk at a merry inn...this isn't just stuff of legend and storybook. And we even may get the odd chance to stop in for evening prayer at the occasional church. Oh - and they're all Anglican! God has really outdone himself with this country.

Genocide for Jesus (Joshua 12-19)

2007-06-05T02:06:00.000-04:00

The above engraving of Joshua sparing Rahab is one of the reasons why Gustave Doré is my favorite biblical illustrator. We see the somber Rahab stepping over the mutilated corpses of the citizens of Jericho, as her terrified father peers over her shoulder. The two spies lend a firm and perhaps comforting hand as they guide her towards Joshua. A towering Israelite commander looks like Genghis Khan sitting atop his camel. Crude spears glimmer against a landscape of smoke and ruin. A plainly dressed but imposing Joshua sits atop his mighty horse, pardoning Rahab and her family while crushing a man underfoot.

How different from the images I grew up with in illustrated Children's Bibles, with the kind smiling faces of the Israelites cheering at the collapse of the walls! These dark themes are a constant reminder that the Bible is first and foremost a book for grown-ups.

I suppose it's time I deal directly with what is without doubt the most troubling part of the Bible. What are we to make of the merciless slaughter of the inhabitants of the Promised Land, by God's people, following God's clear direction?

I’ve said before that I don’t think the kind of mental gymnastics necessary to justify the annihilation of entire peoples is good for the modern soul. We are horrified by genocide, and rightly so. What Joshua did to Jericho should never be justified in the abstract, and even trying to do it in the particular ends up becoming rather embarrassing.

But this, even this, is Holy Scripture, and so we’re stuck with it. If we cannot justify Israel’s atrocities, we must at least try to understand the part they play in the story the Bible is telling. And to see this clearly, we need to clear away the debris of modern prejudice.

Dehumanizing the Enemy

We are told, quite clearly, that the people of the Promised Land are being destroyed as judgment for their horrible wickedness – especially their custom of burning their children as sacrifices to their gods. The modern audience immediately responds that this is rationalization. To justify such atrocities, the perpetrators always need to somehow dehumanize their victims, or convince themselves that they are so evil as to deserve such cruelty. The Israelites no doubt made up these outlandish tales of barbarism to ease their conscience. This is so obvious to us that it hardly needs saying.

Nevertheless, we’re wrong. The Israelites wouldn’t have felt the need to conjure up justifications for the conquest, for the very simple reason that they were ancient and not modern people. In the ancient near-east, might really did make right. A powerful conqueror would have said the following, without a hint of shame. We will level your cities, kill your people, smash your babies against the rocks, desecrate your sacred temples, and take your land and property, simply because we can. If we spare some of you, it is only because we find you useful as slaves or curiosities. If you have any objections to this and wish to keep your honor, feel free to kill yourself.

The ancient victims would obviously be upset about all this, but not in the same way that we would today. A person drowning in the ocean swims his hardest to stay afloat, and cries desperately for help. But he doesn’t say “curse the properties of air and water and human biology that make drowning possible!”

I think we can safely conclude that the description of just how low the Canaanites had sunk in their idolatry is quite real. After all, there truly were cultures whose gods were specifically designed to be as ugly and horrible as the craftsman could fathom. We have stories of huge hollow metal idols, where sacrificial prisoners are locked inside, a furnace is lit underneath, and the human screams echoing out of the mouth of the idol embody the hellish voice of the devil they worship. Such things were done in the ancient world, at the heart of bustling cities, under the clear light of day.

The Sins of the Fathers

Even if the culture as a whole is said to be under God’s righteous judgment, what about individual justice? Surely the babies, if nothing else, should have been spared and cared for. What good is it if they are rescued from the furnaces of the idols only to have their throats cut by Israelite swords? I have no argument against this, and I shudder at the thought of those little ones.

Yet if we cannot (and must not) give up our firm convictions on individual justice, we must at least try to understand the ancient notion of collective identity. Nations and peoples were defined in terms of the strong personalities of their archetypes – Jacob, Esau, Anak, Amelek, Midian, Hercules, Romulus & Remus, etc. Sometimes their founders were even worshiped as gods. The cultures were very conservative, with their distinct character being passed from one generation to the next.

I sometimes wonder whether there is more to this than we like to think. Isn’t it curious that so much of what see as our own personal tastes, ideas, and opinions seem to fit key trends and movements (or counter movements) of our time? Even our personal individualism is an expression of a key American archetype. Most other cultures even today understand this better than we do, and hold individual Americans accountable for the actions of their country. Why shouldn’t they? We certainly benefit from our country’s actions – why should we not share the responsibility?

I am haunted at times when I find an old Indian arrowhead on my parents’ land. These are the artifacts of the people who were once here – peoples all but destroyed today. I can say it’s not my fault, but like it or not, I enjoy the lush beautiful land that their great grandchildren will never see. Is this just? Were the former inhabitants wicked enough to warrant their dispossession? If not, is there to be a reckoning? Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.

Reading these Stories

In the end, as hard as it is, we must try to read Joshua with ancient eyes, if we are to see what God would have us see. We have the sons of Jacob, who were once slaves, now hammered into a nation. The former inhabitants have grown fat with injustice and idolatry, and their time is at an end. The creator of Heaven and Earth, in his wisdom and justice, has chosen to give the land of Canaan to the twelve sons of Israel as an inheritance.

They are encouraged to be strong and courageous, even though they have no earthly reason to be. They are a rag-tag disorganized rabble. But God gives them the power to annihilate powerful armies and tear down imposing city walls. And he requires them to leave nothing alive. To do otherwise would imply that they are conquering out of their own strength, and showing mercy at their own whim.

It is not because of their righteousness or power that they are given the land. It is because the Lord is faithful to his promises to Abraham. It is because he has a plan to bless all nations through the nation that Israel is becoming. And it is because the nations currently there no longer deserve their place under the sun.

A Sword for the Lord and for Gibeon (Joshua 9-11)

2007-05-24T22:59:00.000-04:00

The army of Israel continues to storm into the land, leaving nothing but destruction in their wake. No army can stand against them. No quarter is given to their victims. They refuse to intermarry, to worship the local gods, or to adopt the customs of the land. The terror of their God goes before them, and none can stand when he appears. What is a Canaanite to do?

The people of Gibeon decide to try and make an alliance, for their own survival. The tricky thing is that Israel will make no alliances with those in the promised land. They are all under the ban. So the Gibeonites need to be cunning. They dress up their ambassadors in worn-out clothing and pretend to be from somewhere far off. Joshua doesn’t consult the Lord, and falls for it. He makes a treaty with Gibeon, sealing it with an oath to the God of Israel.

When the Isrealites find out that their leaders have been hoodwinked, they are positively mutinous. But there is nothing to be done about it. They must absolutely not take the name of the Lord in vain. Joshua is furious, and (with amazing obtuseness) demands an explanation:

Joshua summoned them, and he said to them, “Why did you deceive us, saying, ‘We are very far from you,’ when you dwell among us? Now therefore you are cursed, and some of you shall never be anything but servants, cutters of wood and drawers of water for the house of my God.” They answered Joshua, “Because it was told to your servants for a certainty that the Lord your God had commanded his servant Moses to give you all the land and to destroy all the inhabitants of the land from before you—so we feared greatly for our lives because of you and did this thing. And now, behold, we are in your hand. Whatever seems good and right in your sight to do to us, do it.” So he did this to them and delivered them out of the hand of the people of Israel, and they did not kill them.

When the other kings in the area hear about the treachery of Gibeon, all five of them assemble armies to destroy the city. The Gibeonites cry out to their new friends for help, and Joshua comes riding to the rescue.

What follows is a battle of five armies, a battle of cosmic proportions. The Israelites kill them by the thousands, but that pales in comparison to the artillery of hail God sends from his heavens. The sun and moon – the crown of the host of heaven – are the work of his hands. In a display of his absolute sovereignty, the Lord stops the sun and moon in the sky for an entire day, until all five armies are completely destroyed.

The five kings are captured and brought before Joshua:

And when they brought those kings out to Joshua, Joshua summoned all the men of Israel and said to the chiefs of the men of war who had gone with him, “Come near; put your feet on the necks of these kings.” Then they came near and put their feet on their necks. And Joshua said to them, “Do not be afraid or dismayed; be strong and courageous. For thus the Lord will do to all your enemies against whom you fight.” And afterward Joshua struck them and put them to death, and he hanged them on five trees. And they hung on the trees until evening. But at the time of the going down of the sun, Joshua commanded, and they took them down from the trees and threw them into the cave where they had hidden themselves, and they set large stones against the mouth of the cave, which remain to this very day.

The heavenly hosts are subject to the Lord’s command. How much more the earthly powers? These five mighty kings lay with Israel’s heels on their necks, brought low before the sons of Jacob the nomad. It is God who exalts, and God who humbles.

There was not a city that made peace with the people of Israel except the Hivites, the inhabitants of Gibeon. They took them all in battle. For it was the Lord's doing to harden their hearts that they should come against Israel in battle, in order that they should be devoted to destruction and should receive no mercy but be destroyed, just as the Lord commanded Moses.

Here again, we see God hardening the hearts of these kings – strengthening their resolve against Israel so that they will be destroyed. And yet Gibeon is spared.

What is hard for me to grasp is how the original authors saw this. Clearly, had Joshua consulted the Lord, he would have found out the Gibeonites were local and then they would be hosed. But there seems to be a sense in which their shrewdness is commendable – not unlike Jacob himself. They will stop at nothing to gain the blessing of the Lord. Better to be a woodcutter in the house of God than a king in the cities of the wicked. This much is clear.

Let Him Be Accursed (Joshua 7-8)

2007-05-20T02:21:00.000-04:00

Well, here we are. The people are in the land, the evil Canaanites are being slaughtered by the thousands with nary an Israelite casualty to be seen, and the promise to Abraham is coming to fulfillment. Where he was a mere nomad, they are conquerors. So why is it that I don’t feel like celebrating?

I wrote before that there are some passages that I wish weren’t in the Bible (though my faith in God leads me to believe that they indeed should be there despite my feelings.) They mostly have to do with a chilling Hebrew word: Cherem. It means “the ban” or “devoted to destruction” or “set apart for the Lord.” You may think being set apart for the Lord is a good thing, but believe me: you don’t want it like this.

Our story continues after the fall of Jericho. The entire city has been set apart for the Lord, so that every living thing was under the ban. All were killed, both young and old, man and animal alike. The city was burned to the ground, with only the gold being taken for the Lord’s treasury. The people of Israel had been warned not to take anything under the ban – no human being for wives or slaves, no cattle, no valuables.

It’s impossible for me to connect to this, but I must at least try to understand. I remember a passage in book six of the Iliad, where the great Greek hero Menelaus disarms the Trojan Adrestus. Adrestus begs Menelaus for mercy – telling him of the great ransom he will get if he only spares his life. Menelaus has pity, until his brother Agamemnon protests. Agamemnon is horrified that Menelaus lets mercy and personal gain get in the way of his loyalty to his brother and country. Love for Greece means hatred of Troy. And so the righteous Menelaus kicks the bawling man back and skewers him with his spear – a fine example of virtue for generations to come.

So it is with an Israelite named Achan. He sees some fine cloth and some gold bars in Jericho and keeps them for himself. No one seems to notice, until they attempt to attack another city, Ai. Rather than take the city effortlessly, they are routed by the defenders and lose some men.

Joshua is horrified. If the people no longer have the Lord’s protection, the Canaanites will kill every last one of them in no time. So, like Moses before him, he pleads with God to come to their aid. The Lord responds:

Get up! Why have you fallen on your face? Israel has sinned; they have transgressed my covenant that I commanded them; they have taken some of the devoted things; they have stolen and lied and put them among their own belongings. Therefore the people of Israel cannot stand before their enemies. They turn their backs before their enemies, because they have become devoted for destruction.

By taking items under the ban into their camp, Israel itself has fallen under the ban of their enemies. So Joshua immediately calls the people together and uses a sacred lottery to see who is responsible. All eyes fall on Achan.

Then Joshua said to Achan, “My son, give glory to the Lord God of Israel and make confession to him. And tell me now what you have done; do not hide it from me.” And Achan answered Joshua, “Truly I have sinned against the Lord God of Israel, and this is what I did: when I saw among the spoil a beautiful cloak from Shinar, and 200 shekels of silver, and a bar of gold weighing 50 shekels, then I coveted them and took them. And see, they are hidden in the earth inside my tent, with the silver underneath.”

Joshua seemed so tender, and yet his response to Achan’s confession is terrible. Though he confesses his sin, Joshua is not faithful and just to forgive him his sin, but only to cleanse Israel from all unrighteousness. Achan and his children and all his cattle are brought out and stoned to death and burned – with a great heap of stones piled on him after the fact.

No longer under the ban, the people then have little trouble crushing the city’s defenses, massacring the inhabitants, and burning Ai to the ground. And I am left bewildered. Where is the hope here? Where is there anything but cruel destruction? Where is mercy, when any laxity is a failure to carry out God’s mandate? Where is forgiveness for those who confess their sins?

Let’s look where we would least expect it:

So Joshua burned Ai and made it forever a heap of ruins, as it is to this day. And he hanged the king of Ai on a tree until evening. And at sunset Joshua commanded, and they took his body down from the tree and threw it at the entrance of the gate of the city and raised over it a great heap of stones, which stands there to this day.

Here we see a type of Christ, not in Joshua (his namesake), but in the accursed idolatrous king, set apart by God for destruction, strung up on a tree until evening, whose tomb is sealed in stone. The root of Jesse will come, even he who arises to rule the Gentiles; in him will the Gentiles hope.

Be Strong and Courageous (Joshua 1-6)

2007-05-15T02:58:00.000-04:00

Enough of the legal contracts and pensive contemplation. Strap on your sword and grab your spear. It’s time for war, slaughter, and plunder!

The Lord gives Joshua his marching orders:

Moses my servant is dead. Now therefore arise, go over this Jordan, you and all this people, into the land that I am giving to them, to the people of Israel. … Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.

Strength and courage – two virtues that the people of Israel have been sorely lacking. The first time they came into the land, ten of the twelve spies came back cowering in terror, infecting the whole nation with fear. Only Joshua and Caleb had been eager to begin the invasion, but the people’s hesitation put this moment off another 40 years.

Now Joshua sends another group of spies into the land – only two this time. And where else would a group of unsavory nomads who had been in the desert for decades go, at the first sight of civilization, but to the house of Rahab the prostitute in Jericho? She proves even more congenial than expected, and hides the spies from the king’s soldiers. When the coast is clear, Rahab gives them a little glimpse of the morale of Jericho:

We have heard how the Lord dried up the water of the Red Sea before you when you came out of Egypt, and what you did to the two kings of the Amorites who were beyond the Jordan, to Sihon and Og, whom you devoted to destruction. And as soon as we heard it, our hearts melted, and there was no spirit left in any man because of you, for the Lord your God, he is God in the heavens above and on the earth beneath.

Rahab goes on to beg them to swear to God that they will spare her life in the sack of the city when it falls. They agree. The spies escape and report back to Joshua, who is thrilled to hear the news.

As a reminder that he’s the same God who parted the Red Sea and conquered Pharaoh’s army, the Lord dries up the Jordan river. 40,000 ferocious Israelite warriors pour into Canaan, with Joshua their general in the van. They take care of ritual obligations (this generation hadn’t yet been circumcised), eat their final meal of manna, and prepare for battle.

Joshua is told to march the men around the city once per day for six days, and then seven times the seventh day. Echoing God’s work in creation, the marching is a reminder that the Lord is doing the work here. After the last lap, they all give a shout. The walls crumble as if pummeled by cosmic artillery, the bloodthirsty soldiers roar into the defenseless city, and Jericho burns to the ground.

Their orders are simple: leave nothing alive and take no personal plunder. This city is an offering to the Lord. Only the prostitute and her family may survive.

The people’s spirits are high, their loyalty to Joshua firm, and their confidence in God steadfast. They are a far cry from the sniveling rabble that their parents were at Sinai. They are also a far cry from the wandering sheepherders that their forefathers were in this same place. The God of creation is leading them into a good land: driving out the current tenants with his flaming sword. They have nothing to fear but fear itself.

Deuteronomy

2007-05-10T00:06:00.000-04:00

Deuteronomy is the last book of the Law. In Moses final speech to the people, he repeats the commandments with greater depth and perspective while setting the stage for the conquest of Canaan. However, there is also a sense of foreboding and melancholy, as he somehow knows that they conquer only to be eventually banished once again for their disobedience. The book ends with both encouragement to keep the law to enjoy God's blessings and assurance of God's faithfulness even when they rebel against him.

Here are all the posts, with astricks by what I think were the better ones:

They Shall Not Enter My Rest (Deuteronomy 31-34)

2007-04-30T01:39:00.000-04:00

Deuteronomy ends with the death of Moses in the land of Moab – so close, and yet so far away from the Promised Land:

Moses was 120 years old when he died. His eye was undimmed, and his vigor unabated.…And there has not arisen a prophet since in Israel like Moses, whom the Lord knew face to face, none like him for all the signs and the wonders that the Lord sent him to do in the land of Egypt, to Pharaoh and to all his servants and to all his land, and for all the mighty power and all the great deeds of terror that Moses did in the sight of all Israel.

I mentioned before that Deuteronomy is a rather anticlimactic ending for the Torah. All this excitement, all this struggle, all this build up, but we never get to the actual conquest of Canaan. Moses doesn’t get to enter the land.

That task is given to Joshua, with this word of encouragement:

Be strong and courageous, for you shall go with this people into the land that the Lord has sworn to their fathers to give them, and you shall put them in possession of it. It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you; he will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed.

I see Joshua mounting his horse and riding off to battle with a shout, with Moses standing on the far shore with a sad look in his eye. He knows it won’t last. The people will not keep the law, and they will not stay in the land. God knows this as well, and so he gives Moses a strange order:

Now therefore write this song and teach it to the people of Israel. Put it in their mouths, that this song may be a witness for me against the people of Israel. For when I have brought them into the land flowing with milk and honey, which I swore to give to their fathers, and they have eaten and are full and grown fat, they will turn to other gods and serve them, and despise me and break my covenant. And when many evils and troubles have come upon them, this song shall confront them as a witness (for it will live unforgotten in the mouths of their offspring).

It’s a song of God’s great rescue of Israel, of Israel’s rebellion against him, God’s abandonment of Israel to his fate, Israel’s ruin without God, and God’s decision to once again restore him. In effect, it is the song of the entire Old Testament. It’s a sad song, though the ending is hopeful.

Moses blesses the twelve tribes in a blessing reminiscent of Jacob’s back at the end of Genesis. And that’s it. He dies without ever setting a foot in Canaan.

But God’s choice, while harsh, does seem to be the right one. If Moses had entered the land, this would have implied that the promise was really fulfilled. As it is, we know the story is only beginning. It will be a long time in the Bible until we see Moses again. Only then will we know that the decisive hour has finally arrived.

The Curse of the Law (Deuteronomy 27-30)

2007-04-28T15:16:00.000-04:00

The law concludes with a final exhortation to actually do the thing. The people are standing on the far side of the Jordan, and Moses tells them that when they enter the land that they will need to build an altar on top of Mt. Ebal. From there, they will call down curses on themselves, for those who do not keep the law.

I must confess, I do not often have the impulse to call down a curse on myself – though it isn’t an entirely foreign concept. It is a way of saying “I am so sincere in my commitment that I’ll gladly agree to horrible things happening to me if I break it.” It’s the language of covenant and law – and this element remains in our laws today. From rent agreements, to mortgage contracts, to international treaties, covenants invoke both blessings and curses.

But wow, some of these curses are absolutely chilling.

But if you will not obey the voice of the Lord your God or be careful to do all his commandments and his statutes that I command you today, then all these curses shall come upon you and overtake you.
Cursed shall you be in the city, and cursed shall you be in the field.
Cursed shall be your basket and your kneading bowl.
Cursed shall be the fruit of your womb and the fruit of your ground, the increase of your herds and the young of your flock.
Cursed shall you be when you come in, and cursed shall you be when you go out.

All the good things of life, all the day to day happiness and pleasures that come from work, from plans and ambitions, from family, from food, from health, from friendship – all these gifts that are the pursuit of humanity, God wants to give them in abundance. But their disobedience will land them with curses in every aspect of life.

It doesn’t stop here. No, they will suffer defeat and shame before their enemies, and be brought to pitiful ruin. Listen to this shocking description:

And they shall besiege you in all your towns throughout all your land, which the Lord your God has given you. …The most tender and refined woman among you, who would not venture to set the sole of her foot on the ground because she is so delicate and tender, will begrudge to the husband she embraces, to her son and to her daughter, her afterbirth that comes out from between her feet and her children whom she bears, because lacking everything she will eat them secretly, in the siege and in the distress with which your enemy shall distress you in your towns.

What a picture of complete degradation. The most precious and tender thing in life – the birth of a newborn child – is simply an occasion for bestial craving and utter selfishness. Try as I might, I could not picture a more loathsome state for a human being to be in. Those who have not loved their neighbors as their selves, will see the last vestige of self-love completely disappear.

The curse then ends with this picture:

In the morning you shall say, ‘If only it were evening!’ and at evening you shall say, ‘If only it were morning!’ because of the dread that your heart shall feel, and the sights that your eyes shall see. And the Lord will bring you back in ships to Egypt, a journey that I promised that you should never make again; and there you shall offer yourselves for sale to your enemies as male and female slaves, but there will be no buyer.

How many times have the Israelites said, “we’d rather be slaves back in Egypt than this.” Well, in the end, they will be made so hideous, so completely pathetic, that the Egyptians sent to buy slaves will take one look at them and move on.

But Moses goes on to appeal to them that all this need not be. You can avoid this horrible curse, and instead enjoy the blessing of the law:

I call heaven and earth to witness against you today, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and curse. Therefore choose life, that you and your offspring may live.

Here, as in the garden, man is given a choice between life and death. This time he is armed with the knowledge of good and evil. Will he finally do well?

Oh How I Love Your Law (Deuteronomy 20-26)

2007-04-23T23:17:00.000-04:00

Theocracy is quite a buzzword these days. It seems you can hardly have a discussion about the place of religion in informing public life without someone pointing out how terrible it would be if the fundamentalist Christian right had their druthers and could directly institute the Mosaic law. And, just as there is a small club of folks in Greece wanting to reinstate worship of Zeus and Apollo, there are certainly a tiny sliver of Christians who want to do just that.

This is not a political blog, and I certainly don’t want to scare away my more left-leaning readers. I do not think we should be pushing for the institution of the Mosaic law today – some of it would be horrible in our context, some of it is just primitive and antiquated, some of it is specifically fulfilled in Christ, some of it he specifically repeals (divorce for any reason?).

But, having said all this, I have a confession to make: I really love some of these laws.

Let me start with one of my favorites:

When you besiege a city for a long time, making war against it in order to take it, you shall not destroy its trees by wielding an axe against them. You may eat from them, but you shall not cut them down. Are the trees in the field human, that they should be besieged by you? Only the trees that you know are not trees for food you may destroy and cut down, that you may build siegeworks against the city that makes war with you, until it falls.

Here’s a verse for all us tree-huggers! And isn’t it true? So many of us have seen developers come in to a piece of lovely country and destroy everything – not giving a care to the living things that have lived there for generations. It breaks my heart to see a hundred year oak felled for a new strip mall, especially when, with a little love and effort, we might simply build around it. Hear oh stiff-necked Americans: The Lord your God says to spare the trees. It’s the law.

And don’t forget about the birdies:

If you come across a bird's nest in any tree or on the ground, with young ones or eggs and the mother sitting on the young or on the eggs, you shall not take the mother with the young. You shall let the mother go, but the young you may take for yourself.

Again – a small token kindness to one of God’s creatures. What does it matter? There are plenty of birds out there, and trees will grow back? But part of our role as human beings is to care for creation, not oppress it. We may cut down trees if we really need to, and help ourselves to some eggs if we let the mother bird go. But our greedy desires need to be tempered with reverence for the God of creation. It’s the law.

You shall not give up to his master a slave who has escaped from his master to you. He shall dwell with you, in your midst, in the place that he shall choose within one of your towns, wherever it suits him. You shall not wrong him.

Here’s one to bring out whenever someone points out that the Southerners used the Bible to support slavery. Despite allowing slavery in some cases, in the very next breath the law undermines the very notion, for it is written for a people of slaves set free. No need for the underground railroad here.

When you go out to war against your enemies… the officers shall speak to the people, saying, ‘Is there any man who has built a new house and has not dedicated it? Let him go back to his house, lest he die in the battle and another man dedicate it. And is there any man who has planted a vineyard and has not enjoyed its fruit? Let him go back to his house, lest he die in the battle and another man enjoy its fruit. And is there any man who has betrothed a wife and has not taken her? Let him go back to his house, lest he die in the battle and another man take her.’

There’s not much to say here – other than a sigh of satisfaction at the sheer human decency of it. There always seemed to be something quite wrong with the soldier getting married and suddenly being shipped out the next day. It is important to make sacrifices to serve your country, but the law reminds us that the State is not God – and some short-lived blessings are too precious to take away from people.

Finally, here are a group of laws that ought to make us Americans ashamed:

When you build a new house, you shall make a parapet for your roof, that you may not bring the guilt of blood upon your house, if anyone should fall from it.

If you go into your neighbor's vineyard, you may eat your fill of grapes, as many as you wish, but you shall not put any in your bag. If you go into your neighbor's standing grain, you may pluck the ears with your hand, but you shall not put a sickle to your neighbor's standing grain.

When you reap your harvest in your field and forget a sheaf in the field, you shall not go back to get it. It shall be for the sojourner, the fatherless, and the widow, that the Lord your God may bless you in all the work of your hands. When you beat your olive trees, you shall not go over them again. It shall be for the sojourner, the fatherless, and the widow. When you gather the grapes of your vineyard, you shall not strip it afterward. It shall be for the sojourner, the fatherless, and the widow. You shall remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt; therefore I command you to do this.

Here, in such common-sense case law, we see the sanity that makes a fool of both individualistic libertarianism and collectivistic socialism. Your little plot of land is specially yours – God has given it to you as your own. It does not belong to the impersonal collective, but to you. And yet you have a legal obligation to be responsible, hospitable, and generous with what God has blessed you with. To withhold a few apples from those who pass by isn’t just unfriendly – it is criminal. To not leave a little in the field for the poor isn’t just greedy – it is illegal.

Our Declaration of Independence says that governments exist to secure individual rights, given to us by God. But, looking at the law of Moses, I think I see something deeper that we are missing. It’s not just about securing everybody’s rights, but about encouraging people to love their neighbors as themselves. Individual autonomy must never trump the responsibility to love, for love is the fulfillment of the law.

You Are My Beloved Son (Deuteronomy 13-19)

2007-04-15T22:21:00.000-04:00

Moses now turns and rehashes the requirements of the law. It’s similar to before, though I immediately notice two changes. First, there is more time spent on the reason behind the laws. Second, there is more thought given to issues likely to come up in the future – a city that God will establish as the place where they must worship, how kings must rule when they finally have one, and whether God will send another prophet like Moses.

But some things are resolutely consistent, like the warnings against idolatry. Here we run across a passage so severe, so shocking, so uncompromising, that even after everything we’ve seen still causes me to shudder:

If a prophet or a dreamer of dreams arises among you…if your brother, the son of your mother, or your son or your daughter or the wife you embrace or your friend who is as your own soul entices you secretly, saying, ‘Let us go and serve other gods,’ … you shall not yield to him or listen to him, nor shall your eye pity him, nor shall you spare him, nor shall you conceal him. But you shall kill him. Your hand shall be first against him to put him to death, and afterward the hand of all the people. You shall stone him to death with stones, because he sought to draw you away from the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery.

Here again we shout: what about love, tolerance, and respect for people’s honest opinions? We are right to do so. But perhaps it should give us pause that the paradigm of love, forgiveness, and compassion himself said,

If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple.

The God of Israel, both then and now, insists on being first in the hearts of his people – not to lay an intolerable burden on them – but for their good. Loving the Lord with all your heart is the foundation of everything else, not least the great blessings he wants to bring on them and the world. He is the center of their story and their law.

The story is woven deep within. They are again reminded that, while there are myriads of foods they are allowed to eat, certain things are out of the question. Learning to resist the temptation of forbidden fruit was crucial in the very beginning, and is a constant reminder to them to resist the temptation of forbidden gods. Rather than follow their individual preferences, they are to enjoy the first fruits of their land in the presence of God as they celebrate his works.

The story of Exodus is the center of the law. Debts and slaves are to be released every seven years, as a way of living out in their lives the great release God gave to them as a people. Celebrating it directly is the center of their year, and the most grand of festivals. Even their kings, once they have one, must not see himself as high and lofty, but must recognize that he was once a slave with his brothers. And when they have their own land, it must be filled with justice for all – including foreigners living among them.

Their unique story is the basis of their unique vocation:

You are the sons of the Lord your God. For you are a people holy to the Lord your God, and the Lord has chosen you to be a people for his treasured possession, out of all the peoples who are on the face of the earth.

Here, I cannot help but see in the calling of Israel the face of the one that the Lord set apart as his very own, and sent into the world. He was the king who knew that he was the slave of all, who was obedient to the Father’s commands, and in whose mouth were the words of God – proclaiming freedom for all.

Heart to Heart With God (Deuteronomy 1-12)

2007-04-10T23:57:00.000-04:00

Moses begins his great speech by reminding the Israelites where they’ve been. They’ve become a huge people, they’ve been forced to wander the wilderness for their disobedience, and they’ve crushed two kings that, under normal circumstances, should have been able to wipe the floor with them.

We often take for granted just how easy it was for the Lord to topple these nations, since the story is so famous. I recently had a more historically knowledgeable man, Stuart Koehl, reflect on just what the Israelites were up against back when Pharaoh had them trapped:

The Israelites fleeing from the Egyptians were not soldiers. Their weapons would have consisted mainly of home-made spears, farm implements like sickles, and a smattering of swords and knives. Their armor would have been non-existent. To hold off the Egyptian chariots, they would have had to come together in a tight mass (horses don't impale themselves on sharp things, nor do they charge apparently solid objects like a phalanx). Once they did so, they would be vulnerable to Egyptian arrows. Assume that the arrows are only marginally effective (a big assumption, given that the Hebrews had no armor, and thus were utterly exposed), Simply by swarming around the Israelite formation, the chariots would have pinned it in place, allowing the accompanying foot soldiers time to come up. At that point, the Israelites would have been facing well armed and armored infantry fighting in organized formations. It would have been butchery. However, the Israelites, seeing the infantry coming on, and with their cohesion already weakened by the archery barrage, probably would have broken long before contact, and then been ridden down by the chariots, whose riders would have switched from bows to spears at that point.

Instead, they rout professional armies and sack fortified cities. God has blessed them tremendously, giving them what they would never have had otherwise – a rich land of their own!

So in the light of these great blessings that this great god has given them, Moses message is simple: obey his commandments so you will thrive and take the land. God wants nothing more than to make them the envy of the nations:

For what great nation is there that has a god so near to it as the Lord our God is to us, whenever we call upon him? And what great nation is there, that has statutes and rules so righteous as all this law that I set before you today?

They really do need to come to terms with how incredible all this is:

Did any people ever hear the voice of a god speaking out of the midst of the fire, as you have heard, and still live? Or has any god ever attempted to go and take a nation for himself from the midst of another nation, by trials, by signs, by wonders, and by war, by a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, and by great deeds of terror, all of which the Lord your God did for you in Egypt before your eyes?

God is the great god above all heaven, incorruptible and just, and yet he chose them of all people. All he asks is their loving faithfulness – taking his words and sealing them on their hearts, not letting the blessings of this fine land cause them to take him for granted, teaching their children so that generations to come will continue to obey and be blessed. Surely this is a no-brainer!

Above all, he warns them against idolatry – even idols used to worship the Lord. God has not shown them his form, and they damn well better not create one of their own after the image of their own evil hearts. The nations currently in Canaan are being dispossessed because their idolatry has reached the point where they even burn their children alive in sacrifice to their demon gods. Moses urges them to treat idolatry like cancer – not letting the slightest bit of it infect the people, isolating any idolatrous influence and destroying it.

And yet, God finally shows a soft side. He remembers how terrified the people were of him on the mountain, and how they trusted Moses to mediate for them:

Oh that they had such a mind as this always, to fear me and to keep all my commandments, that it might go well with them and with their descendants forever!

Here at last is the voice of the father who brought his son out of Egypt. He wants nothing more than to shower his love on this people. He wants them to flourish, to enjoy the good things of rural and civilized life, to have long and happy lives, all that they could ever want.

But, like a good father, he knows that he can’t spoil them, and that they are bound to fall short of where they need to be. And here he makes a resounding promise that will echo through the rest of the story:

If you act corruptly by making a carved image in the form of anything, and by doing what is evil in the sight of the Lord your God, so as to provoke him to anger…the Lord will scatter you among the peoples, and you will be left few in number among the nations where the Lord will drive you. And there you will serve gods of wood and stone, the work of human hands, that neither see, nor hear, nor eat, nor smell. But from there you will seek the Lord your God and you will find him, if you search after him with all your heart and with all your soul. When you are in tribulation, and all these things come upon you in the latter days, you will return to the Lord your God and obey his voice. For the Lord your God is a merciful God. He will not leave you or destroy you or forget the covenant with your fathers that he swore to them.

The Lord seems to have settled into his decision to stick with them to the end. No more thoughts of destroying them and starting over from square one. He knows that their hearts are evil even from their youth, and this is the very reason why he must not curse the ground again because of them. Something does need to be done about these hearts though, and so the great physician prescribes his law.

Children of Men

2007-04-09T12:41:00.000-04:00

I saw the movie Children of Men last night. It was a frustrating (and horribly violent) movie, in that the story (and certainly the ending) was less than satisfying. And yet I've come to the conclusion that the story was not the point. Rather, the movie exists to paint a picture - to create an image in our minds - that is absolutely stunning. I haven't seen such powerful imagery in a movie in a long time.

(there may be "spoilers" ahead - but since I didn't think the story was the point, I can't imagine this will "spoil" anything)

The premise of the movie is an inexplicable catastrophy caused universal infertility among human beings roughly around the present day, and tell the story roughly twenty years later. The effect was to take the problems that we have - the environmental issues, immigration crises, terrorism, war, the decline of civility and morality - and then add the infertility thing on top and watch those problems multiply 100x. The image of our world without children was one of utter horror and despair. It was lacking all hope and future, plunging into anarchy and chaos.

And then, place in the middle of it, a woman and a newborn child, with a man shepherding and desperately trying to protect them. The contrast between the violent power of the men and the utter helplessness of the child was stunning. And yet the overbearing force of the government and the treacherous cunning of the rebels both stopped in breathless awe at the sight of the child. The last scenes were of the baby and the mother quietly floating out onto the water to safety, as the planes began to bomb the war-torn town to oblivion. Their power was crushing, but ultimately impotent. Their time was at an end. This baby would outlast them.

The Biblical imagery was quite strong - I thought of Mary and Joseph desperately looking for a place to stay to have the baby, then fleeing for their lives from Herod's soldiers. Here again an all-powerful empire was in the business of crushing a determined resistance. Herod was politically threatened by the Child. The Jewish resistance wanted to use the child for their own national ambitions. But ultimately all their agendas would come to ruin. This child was brining life itself to a world enslaved by death, and at his name every knee would bow.

O come let us adore him, Christ the Lord.

The Spirit of the Law

2007-04-07T00:58:00.000-04:00

We’ve come now to Deuteronomy, the fifth and final book of the law. Ever since the story of Abraham we have been looking forward to the day when his descendants, formerly nomads and slaves, roar into the land like a hurricane and take it for their own. The people have been rescued from Egypt, given the commandments, and purified through long years in the desert. And here they are, swords sharpened, spears in hand, horses fresh, ready for battle and slaughter, victory and spoil. Bring on the climax and the grand finale!

Why then does the Torah end, not with the great conquest of Canaan, but with a speech by Moses? It would indeed tie the Torah up in a nice little bow, beginning (almost) with the promise to Abraham and ending with the fulfillment of that promise. But this would be misleading.

Moses, more than anyone, understands the heart of the people. He knows that the war he is forbidden to join will be ambiguous at best. The people will not be faithful, the victory will not be complete, he will not be there to mediate, and God’s wrath will not be placated. What we are about to see is not the glorious fulfillment of all the Lord’s promises, but only another chapter of a much longer story.

So Moses urges everyone to reflect on what has happened so far. They’ve seen wondrous and terrifying things God has done, but do they really understand the significance of them? They’ve read his laws, but do they really know why they must be obeyed? They’re looking forward to a beautiful country in which to raise their children, but do they grasp the vision that will sustain their descendants for the long haul?

The Torah ends with a second look at the past, and a picture of what will happen in the future. Like we have already seen, it’s a deeply mixed bag. There is faithful obedience and stubborn rebellion on the part of Israel, and great salvation and terrible wrath on the part of God. The future holds much of the same.

Deuteronomy is the vision that will guide them through the best and worst of what is to come.

Numbers

2007-03-28T21:32:00.000-04:00

Numbers is a tedious and frustrating account of a tedious and frustrating process. Israel proves to be every bit as intolerable as the Lord feared, and he spends forty years scuffling with them in the burning wilderness. But a shiny new generation finally emerges, and their wild zeal and brutality is far better than the pathetic vision of their parents.

Here are all the posts, with astricks by what I think were the better ones:

The Ten Thousand Thousands (1-10)
An Evil and Adulterous Generation (11,13-15)
*Self-Made Men and the Kingdom of God (12,16-19)
Confusion at Meribah (20-21)
Like the Beasts that Perish (22-24)
The Generation That Seeks Your Face (25-30)
*In Defense of Genocide (31)
The Plans I Have for You (32-36)

The Plans I Have for You (Numbers 32-36)

2007-03-25T01:48:00.000-04:00

The book of Numbers ends with a series of logistical issues now that the people approach the Promised Land. Reuben and Gad want to settle outside the borders of the land, on the east side of the Jordan. Moses and the Lord agree to this, but only after they promise to go to war with their brothers and only return once the whole land is conquered.

It’s interesting on how God himself outlines the borders of the land in meticulous detail. Those two tribes are genuinely outside it – the bit across the Jordon does not become part the Promised Land by Israelites living there.

The people have finally arrived! Here they stand, right across the Jordan, ready to occupy the land. Having successfully hammered this whiny rabble of slaves into a dedicated fighting force, he gives them their marching orders:

When you pass over the Jordan into the land of Canaan, then you shall drive out all the inhabitants of the land from before you and destroy all their figured stones and destroy all their metal images and demolish all their high places … But if you do not drive out the inhabitants of the land from before you, then those of them whom you let remain shall be as barbs in your eyes and thorns in your sides, and they shall trouble you in the land where you dwell. And I will do to you as I thought to do to them.

The people must stay pure – they absolutely cannot assimilate with the locals. They’ve learned the hard way what a serious business having contact with God of creation. He himself is going to live with them – the glorious one who made the heavens will be their next-door neighbor. His anger is quickly kindled and burns like fire.

In his zoning rules, the Lord particularly warns them against murder: the sin of Cain against his own brother:

You shall not pollute the land in which you live, for blood pollutes the land, and no atonement can be made for the land for the blood that is shed in it, except by the blood of the one who shed it. You shall not defile the land in which you live, in the midst of which I dwell, for I the Lord dwell in the midst of the people of Israel.

But an exception is made for the person who kills another accidentally. Though the clan of the dead man will always send out a vigilante to take the killer out, he may run to one of six Levite “cities of refuge.” There the burning anger of the avenger will be stayed, until the Levites have given the man a fair trial to determine whether it was murder or manslaughter.

It’s a symbol of the Levites role as mediators between Israel and God, isn’t it? The Lord, in his fury, would kill off the entire nation, but for the intercession of Levites like Moses. God, knowing all things (including himself), raises up men who will wrestle with him on behalf of his people.

And now, as the hoards of Israelite warriors stand ready to invade, Moses prepares for a final speech. To listen in, we move turn ahead to Deuteronomy.

A Prayer for Bible Bloggers

2007-03-25T00:58:00.000-04:00

I'm going to start praying this collect from the Anglican Book of Common Prayer before each post - it sounds like a wonderful prayer for Bible Bloggers everywhere:

Blessed Lord, who caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning: Grant us so to hear, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that we may embrace and ever hold fast the blessed hope of everlasting life, which you have given us in our Savior Jesus Christ; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

In Defense of Genocide (Numbers 31)

2007-03-16T00:08:00.000-04:00

I was hoping to put off this topic until I got to Joshua, but unfortunately here it is in Numbers – perhaps the worst atrocity committed by Israel in the entire Bible. The Lord commands the people of Israel to attack Midian to avenge the idolatry they and Moab had seduced them into. The soldiers go to war, sacking the cities, killing the kings and every man (even Balaam, as it turns out), and taking their goods and wives and children back as spoils. This is all standard practice for the warfare of the day.

Then we come to this (reader discretion advised):

And Moses was angry with the officers of the army, the commanders of thousands and the commanders of hundreds, who had come from service in the war. Moses said to them, “Have you let all the women live? Behold, these, on Balaam's advice, caused the people of Israel to act treacherously against the Lord in the incident of Peor, and so the plague came among the congregation of the Lord. Now therefore, kill every male among the little ones, and kill every woman who has known man by lying with him. But all the young girls who have not known man by lying with him keep alive for yourselves. Encamp outside the camp seven days. Whoever of you has killed any person and whoever has touched any slain, purify yourselves and your captives on the third day and on the seventh day.

This is, quite simply, horrible. There is no way I can contort my emotions to side with the Israelites on this one. I see the image of women and young boys suddenly realizing they are all going to die, soldiers approaching with swords in hand, doomed mothers screaming for mercy for their little ones, and tear-filled girls watching helplessly on as their soon-to-be masters and husbands spill the lifeblood of their mothers and brothers into the dirt. Herod’s slaughter of the boys of Bethlehem can’t hold a candle to this.

This is one of those passages I just wish weren’t in the Bible. What can be said about this? How on Earth do those of us who love this book more than life, who draw such beauty, strength, wisdom, and goodness from these, the oracles of the living God, come to terms with such ruthless cruelty?

Let’s bring on the rationalizations, shall we?

1. The Lord told them to attack the Midianites, but the Bible never explicitly says He wanted them to kill the women and boys. This was to be Moses last act before his death – maybe he acted in opposition to God’s more merciful will.

I don’t think this gets us anywhere. So far, in the books of Exodus and Numbers, God has shown no hesitation to complain and correct quite loudly of anything he disapproves of. His silence strongly implies support of Moses’ policy.

2. In the ancient world, this would not have been seen as brutal so much as wasteful. The lives of slaves and conquered people were always forfeit. The killing of perfectly good spoils was a sign of their commitment to being faithful to God at great expense.

But of course we know that slaves and conquered people are bearers of the image of God – man is not to be used as a means to an end and disposed of when he outlives his usefulness or becomes a liability. Surely they knew at least this much, especially of children of Abraham?

3. The women of Midian had seduced the people of Israel to idolatry – the greatest sin in the Mosaic Law. They were being punished justly.

Well, we certainly don’t feel the same about idolatry today, but, even granted death as a just punishment, was every single woman in Median responsible? Far be it from the Lord to sweep away the righteous with the wicked. Shall not the judge of all the Earth do what is just? Balaam seemed at least as good as Lot…

4. The entire history of redemption is at stake. If the people of Israel just fade in with the locals, the project is lost. Nothing short of ruthless implacability will keep them from descending into the paganism of the rest of the world. God will be left with nothing but to destroy everything and start anew.

Is anything too hard for the Lord? He who brought Isaac to old Abraham and Sarah, who saved Egypt from famine, who conquered Pharaoh, who gave the people the law on Sinai, can he not preserve his chosen people without this cruelty?

5. We’ve seen the Israelites, we’ve seen their culture, we’ve seen their character. Would there be any possible way that they would interpret the order to not kill as anything but laxity on their idolatry? This is the growing pains of Israel as a nation, and it’s not pretty, but there’s no other way they will understand the gravity of idolatry. It is only by their cruelty that room can be made for mercy to flow. The Lord is a Jealous God, for the ultimate good of all.

I grudgingly accept some of this as far as it goes – I must not trivialize idolatry unless I truly am prepared to throw away the entire Bible. Even so, I cannot see the cruel slaughter of women and children as anything but evil. Nor should any of us.

I see no virtue in trying to unlearn the great lessons of our time: suspicion of idealistic and utilitarian rationalizations given to justify unspeakable atrocities. We condemn what was done in Auschwitz, Nanking, the Khmer Rouge, Rwanda, and Darfur with righteous indignation, on God’s authority. We must not lose this, especially in a time when we in the west face enemies who employ similar rhetoric.

This is part of the lesson of Job. God will not be pleased if, out of loyalty to scripture, we end up calling evil good. Will we speak falsely for God? Will we show partiality toward him? Our maxims are proverbs of ashes; our walls are defenses of clay.

So what do we take away from this? What can we gain from this passage? What should be our reaction to it? If Numbers 31 was the extent of the Bible, I would indeed throw the book away in disgust. But I cannot pick and choose what is in the Bible, and I cannot set it aside without throwing away what is the wellspring of my own understanding of justice and mercy.

The Bible has so much more to come. There is forgiveness a thousand times over to idolatrous Israel. There is mercy towards pagan Ninevah despite the anger of the prophet Jonah (to whom Numbers 31 may have been his favorite chapter of the Bible). And there is the embodiment of Israel’s God, Jesus himself, giving his own life so that none need perish, and that all people from every nation may have life, and have it in abundance. By God’s grace, I will grasp hold of this book until it blesses me.

Perhaps the lesson the ancients took from this passage was the perils of idolatry, and we of all people need to be reminded that we must not simply make for ourselves whatever gods suit our fancy. But we will have plenty of material for this lesson in future passages. So let’s pause instead and say a prayer for Midian:

Oh God, who hates nothing you have made, will you not spare the lives of those women and boys? Dear Lord, in your mercy, forgive them their sins. Forgive them for whatever role they played in misleading your people. For the sake of your son Jesus Christ, who forgave the idolatrous Romans even as they nailed him to the cross, raise them up in the last day, to share with your people the joy of your eternal kingdom.

The Generation That Seeks Your Face (Numbers 25-30)

2007-03-12T23:55:00.000-04:00

What happens next is so sudden that we may easily overlook the gravity of it. It’s the most serious offense Israel has committed since the Golden Calf – and is perhaps even worse than that. While the nation is camped on the outskirts of Moab, they begin “to whore after the daughters of Moab.” We read:

These invited the people to the sacrifices of their gods, and the people ate and bowed down to their gods. So Israel yoked himself to Baal of Peor.

I don’t know if the Bible is speaking only figuratively of the men taking Moabite concubines and being influenced to worship their god Baal, or whether they go off to enjoy genuine cult prostitution. Probably a good deal of both.

A plague from the Lord now threatens to wipe out the people. While Moses and the judges of Israel are deliberating what to do, an Israelite man walks by arm-in-arm with his new Midianite companion. It’s impeccable timing. Aaron’s grandson Phinehas jumps up, grabs his spear, and impales both unfortunate souls with one furious thrust.

The Lord is both shocked and delighted by this display of enthusiasm:

Phinehas the son of Eleazar, son of Aaron the priest, has turned back my wrath from the people of Israel, in that he was jealous with my jealousy among them, so that I did not consume the people of Israel in my jealousy. Therefore say, ‘Behold, I give to him my covenant of peace, and it shall be to him and to his descendants after him the covenant of a perpetual priesthood, because he was jealous for his God and made atonement for the people of Israel.

It’s hard for us to get too excited about such savage zeal, and rightly so. Our world is full of violent men who kill for the glory of God without a second thought. But, though Pinehas may legitimately bring to mind modern images of a Pakistani man murdering his sister for marrying a Hindu, we should try to remember where we are in the story.

Compare Pinehas and Baal with Aaron and the Golden Calf. Aaron capitulates to their idolatry, while the young Pinehas makes a firm example for all the people to see. Here we get a sense that this new generation has at least something beyond the weak, whiney and fickle character of their parents.

Jacob saw long ago that Levi had a violent streak in him, and cursed him and Simeon for it. But we’ve seen time and time again that God is seeking a people that is audacious, reckless, tenacious, and passionate in their pursuit of his promises. As long as there’s virtue in the wood itself, he’ll smooth out the rough edges in time.

Like the Beasts that Perish (Numbers 22-24)

2007-03-11T22:23:00.000-04:00

Israel inches ever closer to Canaan. Though they successfully maneuver around Edom, several petty border kingdoms send armies to attack Israel. This only results in their own forces being utterly vanquished, and their cities sacked and occupied.

Here we get a rare glimpse of the other side. The story picks up with Balak, the king of Moab, panicking at this vast hoard camping at his doorstep. The Moabites are distant relatives of the Israelites – descendants of Abraham’s nephew Lot. They might actually be expected to welcome their cousins home from slavery in Egypt. Instead, however, they plot with the Midianites (also children of Abraham) on how they might destroy this ravaging multitude.

Balak enlists the services of Balaam the diviner, himself a worshipper of the god of Abraham. On route to meet Balak, Balaam’s path is blocked by the fearsome angel of the Lord (invisible to Balaam). His donkey sees him, and veers off the path. Balaam beats the poor thing, and then the donkey all of a sudden gains the ability to talk. It’s a funny conversation, with Balaam more concerned about his animal’s disobedience than the fact that he is actually talking to a donkey. Perhaps diviners are used to such things (though presumably they should also be able to detect the presence of an angel from their own god).

Anyway, it’s now the angel’s turn to yell at Balaam. He’s dumber than a donkey – blind to the purposes and agents of the god he purports to serve. A troubled Balaam repents, agreeing to deliver the oracles of God to Balak truthfully, with eyes wide open.

As Balaam chants his messages to a furious and terrified Balak, we are again invited to reflect on how far little Jacob has come.

God brings them out of Egypt
and is for them like the horns of the wild ox.

Behold, a people!
As a lioness it rises up
and as a lion it lifts itself;
it does not lie down until it has devoured the prey
and drunk the blood of the slain.

He shall eat up the nations, his adversaries,
and shall break their bones in pieces
and pierce them through with his arrows.

Blessed are those who bless you,
and cursed are those who curse you.

The time for the fulfillment of God’s promise to Abraham has arrived! He intends to give this people a land to call their own, where Abraham himself was only a sojourner. As we have seen so far, the Lord’s purposes do not fail. The question to the bordering kingdoms is whether they will bless Israel and share in his blessings, or curse him and be themselves cursed. Unfortunately for Moab and Midian, they’ve chosen the way of Esau – the way of Cain.

Confusion at Meribah (Numbers 20-21)

2007-03-08T00:02:00.000-05:00

We’ve come to a dismal series of short passages, which raise more questions than answers. At Meribah, the people find themselves without water again, and complain to Moses. He and Aaron ask the Lord what to do, and he responds:

Take the staff, and assemble the congregation, you and Aaron your brother, and tell the rock before their eyes to yield its water. So you shall bring water out of the rock for them and give drink to the congregation and their cattle.

So Moses and Aaron follow orders:

And Moses took the staff from before the Lord, as he commanded him. Then Moses and Aaron gathered the assembly together before the rock, and he said to them, “Hear now, you rebels: shall we bring water for you out of this rock?” And Moses lifted up his hand and struck the rock with his staff twice, and water came out abundantly, and the congregation drank, and their livestock.

If this is all that was said, I wouldn’t have thought much of it. The passage reads much like the one in Exodus – it’s apparently the same place and might as well be the same event. Except for God’s reaction:

Because you did not believe in me, to uphold me as holy in the eyes of the people of Israel, therefore you shall not bring this assembly into the land that I have given them.

Soon afterwards the elderly Aaron dies, and the priesthood passes to his son Eleazar. The Lord wouldn't let him live long enough to see the promised land, “because you rebelled against my command at the waters of Meribah.” It’s tragic that Moses and Aaron don’t get to see the fruit of all their labor. Perhaps it is a needed warning for the people that even great men like them are liable to fall from grace if they aren’t careful.

But the maddening thing is that, despite all this gravity, I’m having the hardest time discerning what exactly they did wrong! Was it hitting the rock instead of speaking to it? Was it their angry tone? Was it their use of the word “we” and not “your God”? We are left to speculate.

Anyway, for whatever reason, it seems that here Moses strove with God and lost. Immediately afterwards, the people of Israel come upon the kingdom of Edom (ruled by the descendants of Esau.) They request safe passage but are denied. Edom sends out an army to block their way and force them to take another route. Esau does not lift his brother’s face.

On their way around Edom, the people grumble again. This time the Lord sends poisonous snakes after them and they scream for mercy. The Lord then tells Moses to hammer together a bronze snake and mount it on a pole. Those who’ve been bitten need only look at it and live.

Now, if I hadn’t been told ahead of time that this was God’s direct command, I would have thought this idolatry. Looking to a metal statue of a snake to miraculously heal you from snake bites? Sounds like worshipping an evil snake-goddess to try to curb her wrath. What’s the difference between a bronze snake and a gold calf?

Perhaps part of the difference lies in the snake being the symbol of their suffering. The way to escape affliction is not to look away from it, but to stare it in the face. The cursed serpent, doomed to crawl on his belly, is now lifted up for all the people to look on and have life. Here, however cloudy, we see at least a hint of hopeful things to come: a shocking and hideous form that nevertheless heals even the most stubborn rebels and brings them into the inheritance promised to the faithful.

Self-Made Men and the Kingdom of God (Numbers 12, 16-19)

2007-03-07T00:52:00.000-05:00

Miriam and Aaron are appalled by Moses’ marriage to a foreign woman, and slander him publically. God has worked through them after all – why should he be so revered anyway? Moses is too shy to speak up, so the Lord himself comes to the defense of his chosen leader:

Hear my words: If there is a prophet among you, I the Lord make myself known to him in a vision; I speak with him in a dream. Not so with my servant Moses. He is faithful in all my house. With him I speak mouth to mouth, clearly, and not in riddles, and he beholds the form of the Lord. Why then were you not afraid to speak against my servant Moses?

Moses intercedes for his brother and sister, and they are forgiven. But their resentment is a forecast of storms to come.

A Levite named Korah leads a group of 250 chieftains of Israel in a public revolt against Moses and Aaron. Who exactly do they think they are – Moses holding total executive power and Aaron and his family having exclusive rights to the priesthood? Korah is a man after our own modern hearts - half Thomas Jefferson and half Martin Luther:

You have gone too far! For all in the congregation are holy, every one of them, and the Lord is among them. Why then do you exalt yourselves above the assembly of the Lord?

Korah isn’t totally off base here. After all, the Lord did promise that Israel would be a kingdom of priests and a holy nation. But his ambition has blinded him to the nature of holiness. When everyone is holy, in the sense that Korah uses the word, then no one is.

This is not the way of the God of Abraham. He desires for his entire creation to be cared for, so he creates man to reflect his likeness and guide his creatures. He wants to bless all the nations, and so he calls a specific nation, Israel, to be his platform for engagement. Yes the people are holy, and yes they are to be a nation of priests – but the kingdom of God is no democracy. Their own tents are sanctified by the Tabernacle itself – the shrouding presence of the living God in their midst. The people can be priests before the nations because they themselves have Moses interceding for them and Aaron and his sons making atonement for their sins.

The ground rips open and Korah and his supporters plunge screaming into the abyss. God knows the man he wants to lead this people. He chose Moses when he was only an infant floating in that little basket long ago. Yet another miracle is performed – Aaron’s staff buds with almonds – to remind the people that the Lord still wants these same men he wanted when he turned the staff into a snake as a proof to Pharaoh.

Moses never particularly wanted this calling. It only weighs heavier on him as the years go by. But lead and intercede he must, or there is no hope at all for Israel. God would consume them in a minute if he were not there to mediate. Indeed, the Lord seems to have known this all along – which is why he picked a man with the spunk to argue with him. God’s chosen servant is humble and meek, holding the people on his heart, and bringing rest for their souls.

An Evil and Adulterous Generation (Numbers 11, 13-15)

2007-03-06T00:33:00.000-05:00

The people grumble…again. They’ve hardly left Sinai, and they are longing for their carefree days in Egypt, where apparently they would lie around in the sun beside the Nile all day, feasting on sizzling meat. God is understandably offended at their absurd ingratitude, and prepares to rain down destruction. We now know the drill – Moses will once again calm God down and talk him out of wiping them out.

Only Moses has had enough. He’s sick of constantly having to mediate between God’s high standards and the people’s incessent whining:

Why have you dealt ill with your servant? And why have I not found favor in your sight, that you lay the burden of all this people on me? Did I conceive all this people? Did I give them birth, that you should say to me, ‘Carry them in your bosom, as a nurse carries a nursing child,’ to the land that you swore to give their fathers?

All of a sudden the roles are reversed, and it is the Lord who provides help for Moses so that he can bear the burden of interceding for the people. Putting up with these folks is a greater task than god or man alone can handle – it requires a tag-team effort!

Soon this too is stretched to the limit. The multitude prepares for the grand invasion of the promised land, and twelve spies are sent out to scope out the territory. They bring back an rich selection of ripe fruit – at least as alluring to their manna-saturated palettes as the memories of Egyptian cuisine. Unfortunately, the only stronger motivation for God’s people than physical craving (which he has consistently satisfied) is fear of their enemies (whom he has consistently defeated). The mob prepares to kill Moses and head back to Egypt.

It’s been ten times now – as many rebellions as there are commandments. There are no more excuses. The people can no longer plead ignorance – they are like a man breaking the Sabbath “with a high hand”. God prepares to annihilate them. As a last resort, Moses makes a desperate appeal to the Lord’s own reputation:

Then the Egyptians will hear of it, for you brought up this people in your might from among them, and they will tell the inhabitants of this land. … Now if you kill this people as one man, then the nations who have heard your fame will say, ‘It is because the Lord was not able to bring this people into the land that he swore to give to them that he has killed them in the wilderness.’

The Lord must concede the point. He can not simply kill off the Israelites in a blind rage, as much as he would like to. There is too much invested in them; there's too much at stake. For better or worse, God has inextricably associated himself and his redemptive project with these people, and their destruction means his failure.

So the Lord tempers his wrath somewhat – on the day that they rebel they do not surely die. He agrees to bring the children under twenty years old into the land, but only after the current generation has completely died off. They are cursed to wander the wilderness 40 years, ‘till they return to the dust of the ground. The few who attempt otherwise fall to the flaming swords of the land’s guardians.

The Ten Thousand Thousands (Numbers 1-10)

2007-02-26T22:28:00.000-05:00

The book of Numbers opens with a census of the fighting men of Israel at the time of their encampment at Sinai. We are told that there were 603,550 warriors in all, not including the Levites. Adding elderly men, women, and children into the mix would imply about 2.5 million Israelites. More than a ten-thousand-fold increase above the original seventy – Jacob’s children have had a busy 400 years.

Many scholars would be quick to remind us that ancient censuses were, as a rule, grossly exaggerated. Yet even if the numbers are off by a factor of ten or more, we would hardly notice. Standing at the base of Mount Sinai, we look out on a sea of tents, cattle, fires, and people stretching to the horizon in every direction. Israel’s tiny band has become a nation, as promised.

It is here at Sinai that the consequences of the tenth plague are formalized. The Lord consecrated for himself all the firstborn in Egypt – including those of the people of Israel. He chose to kill those of the Egyptians and to spare those of Israel, but they remain consecrated nonetheless. However, he agrees to take the entire tribe of Levi in their stead – they are to work exclusively as priests and caretakers of the house of God.

Why Levi, I wonder? The original man Levi is fairly unremarkable – his one claim to fame being the treacherous massacre he and Simeon dealt to a neighboring tribe that earned a rebuke from their father. But perhaps Moses and Aaron are reason enough. They are the chosen leaders for the chosen people, and their tribe is now chosen to be “attached” to God through their vocation.

The great cloud that once towered over the mountain now permeates the tabernacle where the Levites serve. We are reminded over and over again just how absurdly precarious a position the people are in. They are like the wife of a jealous husband calling a curse upon herself if she has been unfaithful. They are like a Nazarite taking a vow so strict that even a slight infraction cancels years of careful behavior. And yet here they are, living side by side with the roaring fury that is their God.

The people have camped at Sinai for over a year when, all of a sudden, the cloud that rises from the tabernacle. The Lord is on the move, and so the sacred silver trumpets announce to the multitude that the march has begun. Moses calls in a loud voice,

Arise, O Lord, and let your enemies be scattered, and let those who hate you flee before you.

And so the tribes roll forward: Judah, Issachar, and Zebulun – Reuben, Simeon, and Gad – Ephraim, Manasseh, and Benjamin – Dan, Asher, and Naphtali – with Levi in their midst carrying the sacred instruments of worship. The sons of Jacob are returning to Canaan. Only a small stretch of wilderness lies in their way.

Leviticus

2007-02-05T23:28:00.000-05:00

Leviticus spells out, in detail, what being the chosen people of God means in day-to-day life. The book begins with detailed descriptions of the sacrificial rituals - how God is to be worshiped. It continues with detailed discussions on the importance of cleanliness in all areas of life. Finally, the book stresses the kind of holy lives they must live in the land they will inherit, lest the ground itself loath them and vomit them out.

Obedient to Their Laws (intro)
The Sacrifice Acceptable to God (1-10)
Cleanliness is Next to Godliness (11-17)
Puritanical Environmentalism (18-22)
The Righteous Shall Inherit the Land (23-27)

The Righteous Shall Inherit the Land (Leviticus 23-27)

2007-01-30T01:33:00.000-05:00

We now plunge into a list of holy festivals – the Passover, the feasts of firstfruits, weeks, trumpets, booths, and the day of atonement. There are six, and if you count the weekly Sabbaths (included in the list) you get an even seven.

I was particularly struck by the feast of firstfruits:

When you come into the land that I give you and reap its harvest, you shall bring the sheaf of the firstfruits of your harvest to the priest… And you shall eat neither bread nor grain parched or fresh until this same day, until you have brought the offering of your God: it is a statute forever throughout your generations in all your dwellings.

Not a single bite until you’ve given back a share of the harvest to the Lord. The land is the fulfillment of the promise to Abraham, and a symbol of Israel’s continuing calling. And, like Esau with his birthright, the fickle people are in danger of throwing away their treasure in exchange for the most transient of pleasures – food not the least.

But there is another thread running even deeper. God is not only concerned with the hearts of his people. His aim is to bring life and renewal to his entire creation. The cursed ground will now be blessed with the loving stewardship of his chosen people. Nowhere is this seen more clearly than in one of the most peculiar and impractical laws in the Bible:

When you come into the land that I give you, the land shall keep a Sabbath to the Lord. For six years you shall sow your field, and for six years you shall prune your vineyard and gather in its fruits, but in the seventh year there shall be a Sabbath of solemn rest for the land, a Sabbath to the Lord. You shall not sow your field or prune your vineyard. You shall not reap what grows of itself in your harvest, or gather the grapes of your undressed vine. It shall be a year of solemn rest for the land.

The land itself gets a Sabbath. How stunning this is to the modern reader! Especially in America, the sovereign ownership of land by the individual is one of our most sacred values. But if the Israelites had any similar notions, the Lord nipped these in the bud with the establishment of the year of Jubilee:

The land shall not be sold in perpetuity, for the land is mine. For you are strangers and sojourners with me. And in all the country you possess, you shall allow a redemption of the land.

Every 50 years the former owners of the land have a right to buy back their old property – even if the new owners aren’t interested in selling. No one has ultimate claim to it. The land is the Lord’s, and the people are only his tenants.

Leviticus ends with a choice – to walk in the laws of the Lord or to reject them. Obedience means rains, rich harvests, prosperity, peace, health, victory over their enemies, and loving communion with God. Disobedience means panic, disease, famine, defeat, and exile:

I will scatter you among the nations, and I will unsheathe the sword after you, and your land shall be a desolation, and your cities shall be a waste. Then the land shall enjoy its Sabbaths as long as it lies desolate, while you are in your enemies' land; then the land shall rest, and enjoy its Sabbaths. As long as it lies desolate it shall have rest, the rest that it did not have on your Sabbaths when you were dwelling in it.

A sober warning indeed. The land you live on is holy ground – not a mere commodity. Your everyday work of tilling the fields is a sacred task – do not simply do with it as you please. God will not hold guiltless the man who takes his land in vain.