Wednesday, December 15, 2010

I've Got Just the Prophet...

Passage: Micah 2:6-11

A few years ago I read a novel in which the main characters all employed a “family singer.” The singer’s job was to soothe people when they were stressed out or depressed. He would say pleasant things to them about their glowing positive attributes or the rosy state of the world. And they would calm down and feel good again. Of course it was all lies. But the singer made people feel so good about their lives that they kept him employed.

God repeatedly speaks to the kingdoms of Israel and Judah through prophets. Prophets are a generally accepted class of people whose job it is to deliver the all-important word of God. The problem is that the prophets consistently tell people stuff they don’t want to hear. God’s people circumnavigate this problem by hiring their own prophets – spin doctors who, for a fee, will remix God’s word so that it sounds nice.

Needless to say, God, and his legitimate prophets, have little patience for this practice. In Micah 2 the prophet confronts his people. He says, “You want I should stop prophesying? What good will that do you?” In the same way that a patient who disregards the doctor’s bad news is unlikely to last long, the people of Israel and Judah stop their ears to God’s word only to their great detriment.

It may benefit us to take stock of the “prophetic voices” informing us. Do you stick to commentators, preachers and pundits who say what you want to hear? Do you change the channel when someone confronts a habit that’s a little too close to your heart? Do you turn up the volume when the voice on the other end of the line gives you permission to do what you were hoping to do anyway?

Micah and God’s other prophets say, “Fine. Have it your way. Have your rent-a-prophet. It’s not going to help you when God comes calling.” What do we want? To feel good about ourselves, or to get right with God? We do well to choose our prophets carefully.

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Never Look a Gift Fish in the Mouth

Passage: Jonah 1

Ever wondered what Jonah thought when the fish swallowed him? Whenever I swim in a large body of water, I try not to imagine some great marine creature making its way up from the depths. Try not to think about its great jaws encompassing me; its maw engulfing me and taking me down with it. I’m not always successful.

Did Jonah, in the moment, think, “Phew, I thought I was going to drown!”? I’m guessing not. The narrator puts it like this: Now the LORD provided a huge fish to swallow Jonah…Who knew? Jaws – a gift from God.

The Book of Jonah is a great illustration of God’s providence. In Jonah’s story we see God’s hand at work in every detail, bending all things inexorably toward his will. Start to finish God has a plan for Jonah, and will stop at nothing to bring it to completion.
Does God have a plan for you? Do you think anything can derail it? Hang in there. God’s taking you on a journey, and every big fish is just another part of his transit system.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Father

Passage: Hosea 11:1-4

By and large the prophetic books of the Old Testament are pretty harsh. Without exception they indict God’s people of infidelity and predict the dire consequences thereof. Hosea provides his own variation on this riff, using his personal life as a metaphor for the relationship between God and his wayward people. In Hosea God talks about Israel as a cheating spouse; in Hosea we get this juxtaposition between God’s anger and God’s heartbreak. God reacts to his people’s betrayal with, as Jars of Clay put it, “a rage of a jealous kind.” He loves them, and vows to win them back.

In Hosea 11 the prophet introduces a new metaphor that sheds a more tender light on the love of God. Here God talks about nursing his people to health, reaching for them, and lifting them to his cheek. God says, “I raised you from infancy. But it was so long ago that you’ve forgotten the look of my face and the sound of my voice. Don’t you realize? It was me! I protected you. I fed you. I held you close and rocked you to sleep. It was me.”

God has been with you from the beginning. The psalmist says, “You knit me together in my mother’s womb.” He is the one who breathed life into you; imprinted you with his DNA. He’s the one watching over you and guiding you. Stop wondering. Stop pretending he’s not there. Hear his voice and be caught in his embrace.

Monday, December 6, 2010

Love or...

Passage: 1 John 3:11-24

At a certain point in the novel The Kite Runner, the narrator, Amir, recounts a speech his father used to give about theft. “Every offense you commit against another man,” he says, “is some kind of theft. If you take from a man, you’ve stolen his property. If you cuckold a man, you have stolen his wife. If you murder a man, you have stolen his life.”

In his first letter, the Apostle John talks a lot about love. John mirrors the rhetoric of Amir’s father when he speaks of acts not committed in love. But he takes his argument to a different extreme. John says, “Any time you commit an offense against another, you murder him.” In John’s mind there are only two ways to respond to God and neighbor: love or hate. There’s nothing in between. And, says John, if your actions are guided by anything but love, they’re tantamount to murder.

Here’s how it works. If you steal from someone, you’ve taken a bit of their livelihood. On a fractional level, you’ve taken their life. If you slander someone, you’ve chipped a piece off their reputation. You’ve killed them, just a little. If on any level you are motivated to knock someone down a peg or hurt them in any way, you are responding, if at a reduced amplitude, to the desire to kill them.

Choose your actions and words carefully, says John. Anyone who wants anything to do with Jesus must choose love. If your conduct toward anyone else is motivated by something other than love, you have no place with Jesus, the perfect expression of the love of God.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Appalled

Passage: Daniel 8

The Book of Daniel is a bit of an anomaly. Though Daniel is classified as one of the prophetic books of the Old Testament, his prophecy is unique. Rather than speak directly to the people of Israel and their immediate circumstances, Daniel’s prophecy is focused on world events in the near, distant, and ultimate future. It is therefore more appropriately labeled an “apocalyptic” book, that is, predictive of the end of the world.

Typically people who consider themselves “doomsday prophets” pursue their task with relish. There’s a certain gleam in their eye when they tell you that you and your world are going to burn. There’s a certain self-righteousness in the way they inform you your actions will lead to your undoing. There’s a certain smugness in the way they strap on that sandwich board, or slap those religious bumper stickers on their Econolines. They just seem a bit too happy that the end is near.

Not Daniel. God peels back the curtain, and he catches a glimpse of what’s coming. Then God says, “This is for your eyes only. Seal it up in your heart.” Daniel sees the well-deserved upheaval and cataclysm in store for the unbelieving world. And it makes him sick. The world as he knows it is going to end, and there’s nothing Daniel can do. We don’t know why. Is Daniel sick at heart for the innocent people who are going to get caught in the crossfire? Is he terrified of what will happen to him and his loved ones as the world around them gets theirs? Is he simply awestruck at the magnitude of God’s judgment? Maybe all of the above.

And maybe this should be our reaction when cataclysm hits. Not, “See, the sinners are finally getting theirs” but, “Lord have mercy.” Maybe instead of hoping for judgment to fall we should be appalled that it’s coming at all. Maybe we’re too sickened by other people’s sins and not sickened enough by their suffering. Compassion, “being moved in one’s guts,” is what led Christ to the cross. Thank God he had compassion for us. Our response? Compassion. Being sickened by the plight of those enslaved by sin. Wanting more than anything to see our friends, neighbors, and enemies transformed not by disaster but by the scandalous love of God.

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

What's the Deal with Daniel?

Passage: Daniel 6

Daniel is best known for a few punchy Sunday school stories – the most memorable of which is “Daniel in the Lions' Den”. Most of our familiarity with Daniel ends with this and the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in the fiery furnace. We seldom venture into the book itself, preferring to stick with the bedtime stories and smattering of moral lessons that get tacked onto them.

The Book of Daniel is somewhat more gritty, and infinitely more theologically rich than the Sunday School lessons suggest. As a young man Daniel is taken captive following a 605 BC siege of Jerusalem by Babylon. In exchange for sparing the city, the Babylonians are given the most lavish furnishings from the Temple of the LORD, as well as Jerusalem’s most promising young nobles. These are taken and “re-educated” (resistance is futile) to serve as attendants to the king of Babylon. In Daniel 1 we’re told they are supervised by Ashpenaz, “chief of his court officials” (NIV); other translations identify Ashpenaz as “chief eunuch”. The implication, restated with certainty by such commentators as Josephus, is that Daniel and his friends become eunuchs, too. The Hebrew captives are pressed into service, but distinguish themselves quickly. They are healthier and have a higher aptitude for learning than their Babylonian counterparts. They are also unwilling to fully “get with the program”, in particular refusing to give up their devotion to the God of the Israelites. This garners at turns condemnation (as in the cases of the fiery furnace and the lions' den) and admiration (as when Daniel interprets the kings’ dreams and when the angel preserves Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego). By their presence in Babylon and their unwavering commitment to the LORD, Daniel and his friends bear witness to the undeniable reality and authority of the one true God.

The overarching theme of the Book of Daniel is that the LORD is God. In Daniel the Babylonian and Medo-Persian kings encounter the God of Daniel and his people. And God proves himself to be the ultimate power in their world. Nebuchadnezzar sees God’s authority in the interpretation of his dreams, in God’s preservation of the men in fiery furnace, and in God’s usurpation of the king’s own mental faculties. Belshazzar’s life is cut short when he defiles the objects taken from the LORD’s temple. Darius witnesses God’s power in his protection of Daniel and the elevation of Daniel to second-in-command of the kingdom. In each instance the king bows the knee to the greater authority.

In Daniel 7 the historical vignettes of Daniel’s life give way to Daniel’s own prophetic visions. Here, too, we encounter more explicitly the promises that are implicit in God’s dealings with and through Daniel. Daniel catches a glimpse of how history will unfold. At the end of the story, God will be revealed as ruler of all. Every king and kingdom will give way to God’s ultimate authority. And in the end God’s people – those who stood firm in the face of temptation and oppression – will be raised to eternal life in his kingdom. The call – to honor God with your life and to stand firm in the faith – resonates throughout history.

Monday, November 22, 2010

What Are You Waiting For?

Ezekiel 43:1-12

Three entire chapters of Ezekiel (40-42) are devoted to a detailed description of a vision of the new temple. Recall that in Ezekiel 10 the prophet has a vision of God’s glory leaving the temple in Jerusalem. This symbolizes the removal of God’s provision and protection, felt acutely by God’s people during the Babylonian invasion.

Through Ezekiel God assures his people that this isn’t the end of the story. After a greatly protracted chronicle of Israel’s sins and the requisite punishment, Ezekiel details his God-given vision of a new temple. I confess that as a reader I glaze over when I get to Ezekiel 40. The ensuing three chapters are tedious at best. And you can’t help wondering about the point. Why all the detail about the dimensions, contents, and decorations of the new temple?

The response to this question has layers that can’t be explored fully here. However, there are two simple answers that provide some impetus for taking some time over Ezekiel 40-42. The first is that Ezekiel’s vision captures the completeness and perfection of the new temple. This will be a temple to top all temples. The second is that this extended description is intended to build anticipation. The whole time Ezekiel recounts his vision we the readers should be thinking, “Why? Why all this detailed preparation?” The answer, of course, is that this will be God’s dwelling place. Everything has to be just right for this event – the event for which God’s people have been waiting: the return of God’s glory to the temple. “God with us.”

This week marks the beginning of Advent. Once again we commence a season that symbolizes our communal waiting. Sometimes the waiting feels interminable. Let’s spend the time getting our houses in order. Preparing ourselves for this event all creation has been waiting for: the consummation of God with us.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Watchmen

Passage: Ezekiel 33:1-11

On a plane trip about ten years ago I watched a movie about a career cop who goes looking to find a bone marrow donor for his young son. It turns out the closest match is a sociopathic killer the father helped put behind bars years earlier. When the cop goes to make his appeal, the convict responds, “Just give me moment to savor the irony. Here I am stuck on death row, and all I have to do to kill again is sit here? And a cop’s kid, no less.”

In Ezekiel 33 God confronts his prophet with a dilemma. God says, “I’ve given you the task of warning my people about the judgment that’s coming. If they don’t change their wicked ways, they’re finished. But if you fail to give them fair warning, I’m going to hold you accountable for their deaths.” God goes on to say, “You may be tempted to let my people get what they deserve. You may even want to sit back and enjoy the show. But as my watchman, you have the responsibility to deliver my warning." God says, “As surely as I live, declares the Sovereign LORD, I take no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but rather that they turn from their ways and live. Turn! Turn from your evil ways! Why will you die, O house of Israel?”

It’s easy to think of God only as judge. Too often God is characterized as angry – an angry God preoccupied with punishing evildoers. When God’s children think this is God's priority, we make it ours, too. We lobby lawmakers to legislate against “immorality.” We picket funerals. We make public statements about how God is punishing us all for the sins of a few. We want to create as much distance as possible between ourselves and the sinners so we don’t get caught in the crossfire. God tells Ezekiel it doesn’t work that way. He says, “Don’t think you can stand back and escape the fire. Take your place alongside the sinners, and pray for grace.” We stand watch – not as onlookers safe in our own self-righteousness, but as those entrusted to sound the alarm. We delight not in the thought of the sinners finally getting theirs, but in the promise that God’s grace is great enough to save even the worst of us.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

A Dreadful Thing

Passage: Hebrews 12:14-29

One of the most beloved rituals of my childhood was our annual St. Nicholas party. St. Nicholas, the historical figure who has been reinterpreted in our culture as Santa Claus, was a 3rd century Greek bishop who became a patron saint of, among other things, children and students. An annual festival was adopted around St. Nicholas’ birthday (Dec. 6) in a number of European countries, including the Netherlands. The tradition was carried on in countless Dutch Canadian families, like the one I grew up in. Our St. Nicholas party, or “Sinterklaas”, went like this:
A group of the families of my parents’ closest friends would gather at one of our homes. After a lavish meal – that none of the children could enjoy because we were so excited about what was coming next – we’d gather in the living room. We’d sing traditional Sinterklaas songs. We’d speculate about what St. Nick was going to bring us. We’d go half crazy with anticipation. And just when we thought we couldn’t stand it any longer, the living room door would open a crack, and a handful of candy would be thrown into the room. The door would close as the kids would climb over each other to get the candy. The door would open again, another handful of candy launched into the room. Finally the door would burst open, and St. Nick would stride into the room, dressed in his full saintly regalia, white mane of hair and beard flowing around his obscured face.

Now those of us who had been through this routine were beside ourselves with excitement because St. Nick always brought with him a bag full of presents, and there was always one with your name on it. But every year there was at least one little kid for whom this was his or her first Sinterklaas. When St. Nick burst through the door, the youngest kids would invariably react one way: abject terror. They would scream, cry, and scramble to get behind a parent or piece of furniture. I’m sure more than one pair of pants had to be changed over the many years we celebrated Sinterklaas.

It seems funny now to think of such a joyous occasion being punctuated with consuming fear. In Hebrews 12 the author describes a similar joyous occasion – a day of celebration unrivaled by anything the human race has ever seen. And yet, says the author, that day will be a day of unparalleled terror for many. Why?

The day the author of Hebrews describes is the day of Christ’s return. The day on which every human being who has ever lived is brought face-to-face with the God of the universe. For those who lived their lives in communion with God, this reunion will be a moment they’ve anticipated with great excitement. There will be, however, many for whom God is a stranger. Their response will be one of consuming fear. As the author of Hebrews says, “It is a dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.” The author offers this as both an invitation and a warning. He says, “The day is coming. It can be a day of incomparable joy. Or it can be a day of ultimate terror. Your call.” Get to know God, so that the day of our reunion comes as a pleasant surprise rather than a terrible shock. Now’s your chance.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Wiping the Slate Clean

Passage: Ezekiel 18

In this passage Ezekiel echoes a sentiment expressed by the prophet Jeremiah. In chapter 31 Jeremiah says,
In those days people will no longer say, ‘The parents have eaten sour grapes, and the children’s teeth are set on edge.’ Instead, everyone will die for their own sin; whoever eats sour grapes—their own teeth will be set on edge.
Ezekiel repeats the same proverb, and expands on the promise given by Jeremiah. Here Ezekiel belabors the point that God will judge every person according to his or her sin. And at first this part of the message seems harsh. The idea of God keeping track of your sins and holding you accountable for them is something that people in our culture find distasteful about religion. In fact, what Ezekiel talks about in chapter 18 is what we find at the heart of the Gospel. There are two aspects of this discourse that are genuinely good news.

The first is God’s statement to a people who have been convinced, over the centuries, that they are being punished for the sins of their forebears. As the children of Israel and Judah are reminded of the infidelity generations of their ancestors committed against God, they conclude, “There’s no way we can compensate for them.” In the same way that those who believe in Karma are convinced it takes several lifetimes to make up for sins committed in this one, God’s people are convinced they, their children, and their grandchildren will suffer for the failures of their predecessors. God says, “Not so. I’ve wiped the slate clean. From this point forward I will hold you accountable only for your own sin.”

The second is that God will in fact hold people accountable for their sin. This means, for example, a person who has been victimized as a child or during a time of vulnerability can know that her or his abuser won’t get away with what they did. The abuser will, at some point, be held accountable by the one who sees all. Imagine for a moment you suffered abuse at the hands of a parent. You grow up having been convinced it was somehow your fault. The abuse is a source of shame that you carry into adulthood. Shame over what happens predisposes you to think of yourself as vulnerable to and deserving of abuse. You also carry an injustice that at some level you feel the need to rectify. You can’t get back at your abusive parent, either because they’re too powerful, or because they’re gone. You either live with the sense that you are stuck a victim because justice was never done, or you channel your hurt and sense of victimhood into acts of aggression against someone weaker than you. It all stems from the idea that you’re stuck with the consequences of someone else’s sin; stuck with the need to make justice happen.

In this passage in Ezekiel God offers freedom from having to live out the sins of your parents, grandparents and great-grandparents. He offers a clean slate – the chance to be defined by your own choices. God also assures us that justice is ultimately in his hands. We don’t have to live our lives obsessed with making sure someone gets punished for our hurt. That’s God’s job. Ours is to live in response to God’s love, not in reaction to our own hurt. God wipes the slate clean and makes us new people.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Dear Shame

Passage: Ezekiel 16:53-63

Ezekiel 16 is probably the most difficult chapter in what is decidedly a difficult book. What’s difficult about this chapter is the visceral language the prophet uses to describe the unfaithfulness of God’s people. Ezekiel uses two metaphors to describe Israel and Judah. The first is that of an infant abandoned at birth. Ezekiel describes in detail the state of this infant before God finds her, cleans her, and nurtures her. The second metaphor is that of a beloved bride who becomes adulterous – indiscriminately giving herself to anyone who comes knocking. Through the prophet God is describing the tendency of people, and nations, to seek comfort, solace and fulfillment in cheap substitutes: money; physical pleasure; social/political influence; military might. God is saying, “These are the lovers you’re inviting in my place.” What God offers, again and again, is the true comfort, security, and intimacy for which every person hungers. God identifies each of our tendency to look past him to lovers that are a little flashier; a little more exciting; offer more immediate gratification. Eventually God allows his people to suffer the consequences of that tendency.

But God doesn’t give up on us. At the end of Ezekiel 16 God says, “I will never forget the covenant I made to take you in, provide for you and love you. I will return to this covenant not because you deserve it, but because my love is limitless.
“When I return to you," says God, "you will finally feel the shame you should have felt when you were running around on me. You’ll finally recognize what you became. Perhaps one day you’ll see yourself through the lens of my perfect love for you. When you do, you’ll grieve the shameless way you discarded me.”

We treat shame as a bad word. And yes, there are times when shame comes from the wrong place or is inappropriately assigned. In these cases shame becomes an oppressive barrier to health. Like any other innate instinct, however, shame has a place. Sometimes it tells us we aren’t living into the people we want to be. Sometimes it tells us we aren’t living according to a valuable set of rules or standards. Sometimes it tells us we have fallen short in a commitment or obligation to a loved one. People who know no shame are capable of doing great damage to themselves and their relationships. Sometimes the restoration of shame is the first step toward the restoration of self-love; of dignity; and of loving relationship. When God promises to restore his people’s shame, God promises to restore them to a beloved and cherished status they’ll wish they’d never lost.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Ezekiel Who?

Passage: Ezekiel 1

The Book of Ezekiel opens with vivid and elaborate imagery that proves to be the prophet’s signature throughout the book. Ezekiel prefaces his prophecy with the account of how he received it. Rob Bell says, “The message of this chapter is simple: ‘Kids, this is why you never do drugs.’” Ezekiel 1 reads like a bad acid trip.

And it’s easy to get distracted by the details of Ezekiel’s heavenly vision. For centuries scholars have picked apart each image and each character from the vision, claiming each to be a metaphor or symbol for something else. Whereas some of these analyses have more merit than others, they all run the risk of distracting from the main focus of the passage.

The key point to take from Ezekiel 1 is this: Ezekiel has caught a glimpse of the throne room of Heaven. He has encountered the living God. And here is what Ezekiel has seen: that God is overwhelming in majesty and power; that God is attended and worshiped by the most amazing and majestic creatures in Heaven and Earth; that therefore God is Lord of all Creation. In other words, says Ezekiel, I saw God, and God is everything he says he is. Ezekiel’s prophecy is given credibility because his vision is beyond even what he can describe. It’s truly a glimpse into the realm of God and the angels. Ezekiel bears witness that God is real, and God is who he says he is. Furthermore, God is the one who has commissioned Ezekiel to speak. Anything Ezekiel says henceforth is God’s word, given by God’s authority.

Here’s why this is important. Ezekiel has been commissioned to bring God’s word to the Israelites living in exile. They believe either that God has been a myth all along, or that God has abandoned them. Ezekiel comes to them and says, “God’s real. How do I know? I have seen him.” Ezekiel comes to them and says, “God hasn’t forgotten you. How do I know? Because he gave me this message specifically for you.” Finally, most importantly, Ezekiel says, “God is with you. How do I know? Because here I am.” Here’s the connection. Way back in Deuteronomy, God gave this promise. It was early on in the life of the Israelites, so they may not have been paying attention. But now all of a sudden it’s more important than ever. Here’s what God said, through Moses, way back then:
The LORD your God will raise up for you a prophet like me from among you, from your fellow Israelites. You must listen to him. For this is what you asked of the LORD your God at Horeb on the day of the assembly when you said, “Let us not hear the voice of the LORD our God nor see this great fire anymore, or we will die.” The LORD said to me: “What they say is good. I will raise up for them a prophet like you from among their fellow Israelites, and I will put my words in his mouth. He will tell them everything I command him.” (Deuteronomy 18:15-18)
God promised always to provide his people a human representative – someone to act as a go-between; someone to speak to his people on his behalf. Here, even though they’ve been ripped from their homeland and placed among pagans, God’s people have God’s voice speaking in their ears. Who is Ezekiel? God’s prophet. God’s mouthpiece. The physical reminder of God’s constant presence.

Monday, November 1, 2010

Lamentations

Passage: Lamentations 1

The Book of Lamentations has historically been attributed to the prophet Jeremiah. Whereas the most recent scholarly consensus is that the book was composed by a group of authors, the assumption is that it was written at a time concurrent with Jeremiah’s ministry. That is, shortly after the fall of Jerusalem and the exile.

Whether these are Jeremiah’s words or those of a group of his contemporaries, the book itself communicates devastating sentiments that are the only fitting response to devastating circumstances. These are the words of the witnesses – the survivors. These are the words of those who escaped only after having taken in the sights and sounds of foreign invaders ruthlessly slaughtering their neighbors and friends. Who escaped only to witness from a distance the flames rising from their homes. Who stood back and saw the Temple – the last symbol of God’s presence with his people – pulled down stone by stone. We cannot begin to imagine the trauma of the survivors. What we’ve been given are these echoes of their cries of agony and despair. This chorus of the horror, the pain and regret of a people whose God has left them to fend for themselves.

Lamentations consists of five sections. Each is itself a work of art: the first four sections are acrostic poems, their successive verses beginning with one of the twenty-two letters of the Hebrew alphabet. The third, or center, section, consists of sixty-six verses, with three verses devoted to each of the twenty-two letters. The fifth section mirrors the structure of the other four, consisting of twenty-two verses, but lacking the acrostic format. The themes of the five sections are, in order: the misery of the forsaken city; the sin that brought judgment to God’s people; hope for the people of God; the connection between sin and the destruction of the city; a prayer that God will respond to the people’s repentance with mercy. A distinctive of Hebrew poetry, exemplified by Lamentations, is that the structure of a poem serves to amplify its theme or message.

At the apex of the book – its center section – is hope. God’s people have seen first hand that God is true to his word. He has always promised that if they abandoned him, they would experience life without him. However, God has also promised, again and again, that if his people change their ways, he’ll take them back every time. So, in the aftermath of their destruction they confess their sins, and throw a desperate prayer into the heavens. They hope against hope that God will hear their prayers, and redeem them like he promised.

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Whose Side Are You On?

Passage: Jeremiah 49

The bulk of Jeremiah’s prophecy focuses on the ways God intends to judge his people. The instrument of God’s judgment, it turns out, will be the Babylonian Empire. The assumption Jeremiah’s audience members, and we the readers, are tempted to make is that God is effectively switching sides. God’s been on the side of Israel and Judah all this time. Now he’s done with them, and Babylon is his new favorite. What other conclusion is there to draw here? The success that should have been Israel’s has been handed to Babylon, even as the Israelites have been handed over as slaves to the new superpower. God’s on their side now.
Not so fast. In Jeremiah 49 God lashes out not against Israel and Judah but against…Babylon? God says,
So Babylonia will be plundered; all who plunder her will have their fill…Because you rejoice and are glad, you who pillage my inheritance…
God goes on to say that Israel will be forgiven and Judah restored, while Babylon is punished for treating God’s chosen people so deplorably.
What?

Here’s what’s going on. God committed to his people that if they rejected him, they would face the consequences. Those consequences take the form of the Babylonian invasion. But even though they have become instrumental in God’s plan, the Babylonians are not innocent. The mechanisms they use to mete out God’s judgment are, themselves, cruel and corrupt. No doer of violence; no merciless oppressor will go unpunished, either. The Babylonians will also be held accountable for the abominations they’ve committed.

The paradox of God’s action in the world is that his hand is always at work in the lives of his people – even in the bad things that happen to us. However, God is not the source of the bad things. The Belgic Confession puts it like this:
We believe that this good God, after he created all things, did not abandon them to chance or fortune but leads and governs them according to his holy will, in such a way that nothing happens in this world without his orderly arrangement. Yet God is not the author of, nor can he be charged with, the sin that occurs. For his power and goodness are so great and incomprehensible that he arranges and does his work very well and justly even when the devils and wicked men act unjustly. (Belgic Confession, Art. 13a)

The thought of a good God willing painful – even tragic – circumstances on the people he loves is unsettling. Those who call ourselves God’s people, however, believe that God uses all circumstances to shape our lives and guide us toward our ultimate destination: salvation and eternal life. This still raises the question about those people at whose hands God’s children suffer. The answer is simple: all people will be held accountable for their sins before God – even those sins God has co-opted for his purposes. When someone else has hurt you, the question is not, “How could God let this happen?” but, “How will God use this for good in my life?” The fact that God can use someone else’s hurtful act for a good purpose does not condone that act. Our comfort in the face of such an experience is knowing that God still calls to account those whose evil acts have hurt us.

Thursday, October 28, 2010

A Seared Conscience

Passage: 1 Timothy 4:1-16

This is a passage I’ve always read one way, but recently saw through different eyes. In his first letter to Timothy, the Apostle Paul refers to people who have “seared their consciences as with a hot iron.” To this point I’ve assumed Paul’s referring to people whose repeated immorality has deadened their consciences and sense of shame, such that they no longer feel it when they’re sinning. Generally I’ve pictured the kinds of sensational and salacious sins that we church people whisper about in our congregations and rail against in our culture. However, a closer examination reveals that Paul’s talking about a different set of preoccupations. The people to whom Paul refers are people whose misguided religious practices have seared their consciences, deadening their senses to the true Word and Spirit of God. Paul warns Timothy and his church to watch out for people whose religion has been informed by superstition, folklore, legalism, and extrabiblical teaching. Paul invites his church to live out the freedom of the Gospel – freedom to fully enjoy the gifts and experiences God has given. Freedom to approach God through the blood of Jesus rather than through the rigors of an elaborate system of rules and prohibitions. A seared conscience, according to Paul, is not a conscience that doesn’t know right from wrong. It’s a conscience that is dead to the Spirit of God. The way to ward off the influence of such people is simple: hear the Gospel; embrace the Savior; know the Scriptures. Let your conscience be revived by the Spirit.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

A Covenant with the Day and the Night

Passage: Jeremiah 33:14-28

In Jeremiah 33 God makes an unbelievable promise to Jeremiah. God says, “A day will come when a descendant of David will rule this land with justice and righteousness. And in that day the Judah will be saved and Jerusalem will be secure.” Jeremiah isn’t buying it. He says, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my neighbors are saying, ‘God’s rejected both his kingdoms – Israel and Judah.’ We’ve become a laughingstock to the world because it’s obvious, God, that you’ve rejected your people.”

God’s response is remarkable. He says to Jeremiah, “If you can break my covenant with the day and the night, then I’ll break the covenants I made to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. I’ll break the covenant I made to David.” In other words, God says, “I’m not just paying lip service to something I said in the past. I have made commitments that no force in heaven or on earth can undo.” The commitments? To Abraham, Isaac and Jacob God said, “I’ll make your descendants more numerous than the stars of the sky. And I will one day bless the nations of the world through you.” To David God said, “A descendant of David will always reign.” These promises sound like hyperbole. Like, at the very least, gross exaggeration. In his conversation with Jeremiah God says, “I wasn’t just making that stuff up. I gave my word – a word that I can undo no more easily than you can reroute the courses of the planets and stars.”

Does God keep his promises? Through the descendants of Abraham God brings the Savior of the world. And through David’s lineage God brings not just the king of the Jews, but the Lord of all Creation. No force in Heaven or on Earth can undo that which God covenants to do.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

A Fresh Start

Passage: Jeremiah 31:27-34

Jeremiah speaks to a people who have painted themselves into a corner. They are in a relationship whose conditions they’ve violated too many times to be able to undo the damage. God has told his people that if they live by his rules, everything will go well for them. The converse is true, as well: that if they abandon God and his rules, he’ll abandon them to the arbitrary whim of a merciless world. God has also told his people that their relationship with him is collective. They live out the rigors of God’s Law in community, instructing and encouraging each other to keep the faith. God corrects and punishes his people as a community when they fail to hold individual members accountable. God tells parents that their children and even grandchildren will suffer the consequences of their unfaithfulness.

Jeremiah intervenes at a time when God’s people are on the brink of experiencing everything God warned them about. As a nation they are about to find out how hard life without God can be. Jeremiah’s prophecies focus repeatedly on the coming judgment. But interspersed are promises that better times are ahead. In Jeremiah 31 God talks about a new relationship with new terms. God says, “A day will come in which children won’t suffer for their parents’ sins. They’ll be held accountable only for themselves.” God says, “A day will come when I don’t need to send prophets and preachers and teachers because my word will dwell in each of your hearts. I will forgive your wickedness and remember your sins no more. I will be your God and you will be my people.”

To Jeremiah and his people, this sounds impossible. It sounds too good to be true. They’ve gotten used to the idea that God’s forgiveness is unattainable. That even if they repent and change their ways, the heap of their parents’ and grandparents’ and great-grandparents’ sin is insurmountable. In this prophecy God gives them a glimpse of a new way. A clean slate. The fresh start that you and I know in the person of Jesus Christ. The thing Jeremiah and the children of Israel long for so desperately – the thing we can’t live without – is a thing none of us can secure for ourselves. God offers it freely to those who long once and for all to be called his people. A fresh start.

Saturday, October 23, 2010

No One Expects the Fire

Passage: Jeremiah 21:1-10

On September 29 Gene Cranick watched firefighters stand by and let his house burn to the ground. Cranick, and his fellow residents of Obion County, Tennessee, are required to pay a $75.00 annual fee if they want fire protection from the city of South Fulton. Year after year Cranick has refused to pay. When his home caught fire, he called 911. Firefighters showed up, but only to prevent his fire from spreading to his neighbor’s property – his neighbor who faithfully paid the annual fee. As his house burned, Cranick offered to pay the firefighters anything to get them to extinguish the blaze. “Sorry,” they said, “just following orders.” On one hand their behavior sounds cruel. On the other, Cranick knew the rules ahead of time. He gambled. And lost.

King Zedekiah knew the rules ahead of time. He’d heard it from Jeremiah. His father and grandfather had heard it from Isaiah. “Repent,” the prophets said. “Return to God and his rules, and God will intervene when trouble befalls you. Return to God and he will provide for you and your people. Reject God, and he will stand by and let you suffer the consequences.” Like his predecessors, Zedekiah has chosen to disregard the rules.

Lo and behold, Jeremiah gets a panicked call from Zedekiah. “Uh, we have a problem. The Babylonians are here, and they say they’re going to destroy the city. We could use a little help. Do you think you could put in a good word with God for me?”
“Sorry,” says Jeremiah. “You know the rules.” It seems cruel. But Zedekiah had his chance. God’s people had their chance. They took their chances. And they lost.
How about you? How bad will it have to get before you appeal to God? Don’t take your chances.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

The Quiet Life

Passage: 1 Thessalonians 4:11-12

Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business and to work with your hands, just as we told you, so that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders and so that you will not be dependent on anybody.

Over the course of our life together, my wife and I have known quite a number of people who have felt “called” either to the pastorate or the mission field. When they begin to make the transition into professional ministry, many of these people have expressed excitement about now being able to really serve God. The underlying assumption being that there are certain jobs that have greater Kingdom significance than others. For more than a few of the individuals or couples we’ve known, professional ministry hasn’t worked out. They’ve burned out, or dropped out of the training process for personal or financial reasons. For these acquaintances there’s been the suggestion that somehow they’ve failed. That settling into another career and an “ordinary” kind of life means settling for a second-rate calling.

In 1 Thessalonians 4 the Apostle Paul affirms the “ordinary” life as a legitimate - even preferable - Christian calling. He urges members of his church to see their jobs, families, and other commitments as a mission field. He tells them that an important part of ministering effectively is living effectively. Paul says, “Live a life that wins the respect of outsiders.” Live your life in such a way that the people around you take notice. So doing you will invite the question: “What’s your secret? How is it that you live out your commitments and pursue you work with such dedication? How is it that your relationships seem to work out right? That you continue to give your all to your job, year after year?” Let your quiet life be an invitation for others to encounter the Gospel at work.

Monday, October 18, 2010

Delayed Obedience is...

Passage: Jeremiah 17:19-27

As a parent to young children, I regularly have to play the disciplinarian. Several times a day I tell my kids what they have to do. When they balk or refuse, I tell them the consequences that will ensue should they continue to disobey. When that happens, I’m faced with the choice: do I give them another chance, or do I follow through? I’m generally inclined to give them another chance. But when I do, they begin to expect it from me. The next time I ask them to do something, they’re even less likely to do it. On the other hand, when I do follow through, they’re surprised and outraged. “How could you?” they seem to say (with fewer words and more tears). Once in awhile, when the opportunity for obedience has passed, and the consequence is being meted out, one of my children will say, “Wait, I want to obey!” And I say, “I’m sorry, but you missed your chance. The point was for you to obey right away.” Which, of course, is sad for them and me. It hurts to see them desperately trying to go back and do what they were supposed to do in the first place when they realize, too late, that there are consequences. The point wasn’t for them to accomplish the specific task (hanging up a coat; putting on their shoes; eating their dinner). It was for them to obey.

This is a dynamic that plays out continually in the relationship between God and his people. In Jeremiah 17 God gives his people an order. He says, “Keep the Sabbath Day holy. Don’t pursue any labor or commerce on the seventh day. Set it aside for me. I told your parents and grandparents to do this, but they wouldn’t listen. If you obey this command, you won’t suffer the consequences they did.” Now keeping the Sabbath seems like an arbitrary command. Why this one? Why doesn’t God say, “Make sure you don’t murder”? Or steal? Or cheat on your wife? Why the Sabbath? It makes it seem as though the Sabbath command is more important than the others.

We know, based on the rest of the story, that Gods’ people don’t obey this command. Jeremiah watches his people disregard God’s word and suffer the consequences.
But generations later we see God’s people going back to this one command, after the fact, and say, “Maybe if we obey it now God will reverse the terrible judgment we’ve experienced.” Centuries after they’ve been exiled and returned to their homeland, the children of Israel are a poor nation living under foreign occupation. And they are obsessively trying to keep this one commandment: “Don’t work on the Sabbath.” So much so that when God himself shows up in the flesh, and begins to travel and teach and heal on the Sabbath, they condemn him. “Don’t you know?” they say. “It’s because of this very thing that God sent our ancestors off to Babylon. It’s because we didn’t keep the Sabbath that we’ve suffered so much. Don’t mess it up for us!” To which Jesus, God in the flesh, responds, “You’re still missing the point.”

There was nothing more important about the Sabbath command than any of the other nine. Through Jeremiah God was simply giving his people one command. One simple command in the hopes that they would obey. This was a test of their obedience, which in turn was a test of the relationship God wanted so badly to have with them. It didn’t matter, at the end of the day, what God told them to do. God just wanted them to obey. They didn’t. All these generations later, they look back on that chance they’d had, and try desperately to recapture it. But it’s too late.

Monday, October 11, 2010

The Basic Principles of this World

Passage: Colossians 2:8-23

An older member of a church I served once told me about how much her late husband had looked down on members of her family of origin. In particular, she described how her husband, a college professor, would bait her brother with questions about their theology. Her brother, a farmer with a grade school education, would attempt to answer the questions based on what he remembered from sermons and Bible stories. Then her husband would rip his answers to shreds. She recalled, with tears in her eyes, the way her husband used theological savvy as a weapon to humiliate her brother in order to bolster his own sense of superiority.

More recently one of my best friends confided to me concern about his youngest sister’s latest vocational pursuit. His sister, a college dropout, had moved to the West Coast and enrolled in the “Power Plant”, a charismatic Christian academy that specializes in healing prayer, prophecy, and what she called “words of knowledge.” When she came home for Thanksgiving break, his sister said she’d received a “word of knowledge” that God was going to heal their mom’s cancer. Based on this, she insisted that her mother refuse the surgery and chemotherapy she was scheduled to undergo. When my friend and his family dismissed his sister’s urgings, she said, “You obviously don’t have the faith I do. God talks to me.”

It’s human nature to latch on to skills, abilities or social status markers that make us special. We all at some level want to be superior to someone or better at something. This is what the Apostle Paul talks about when he warns his church against “depending on the basic principles of this world rather than on Christ.” When it comes to religion, people’s human instincts lead them down two possible paths. The first is believing that one can acquire a level of secret or superior knowledge of the divine that puts them ahead. They’ll use special jargon to talk about God and the life of faith. They’ll make veiled references to certain skills or practices that you’d obviously only know about if you were part of the elite circle of “true believers.” This superior knowledge, they believe, gets them closer to God. Proponents of this approach to the faith invariably look down on those who know less than they do.

The second is believing that there is a set of rules that, if followed, will get you closer to God. Proponents of this approach shape their lives around certain disciplines, are harshly critical of anyone who doesn’t follow the rules as strictly or exhaustively as they do, and again think of themselves as belonging to an elite society.

Paul confronts and debunks both philosophies in Colossians 2. He says, “The only basis for a successful appeal to God is the blood of Jesus Christ.” He tells the members of his church that if they have embraced Jesus as Savior and Lord, no one can claim to be closer to God than they are. Paul says, “Don’t let someone else tell you your faith is worth less because you don’t know as much as them. Don’t let someone else debase your relationship with God because they follow more rules.”

In saying this, Paul also cautions members of his church against adopting an elitist view of their own faith. Your relationship with Jesus Christ doesn’t make you better than anyone else. It just makes you right with God. And your aim, should you mature in the faith or grow in knowledge of the things of God, must always be to share what you’ve learned. We’re all on the same playing field. Saved by grace. Servants of God. Growing in faith and knowledge. Together.

Friday, October 8, 2010

You Need a New Doctor

Passage: Jeremiah 5:30-31; 6:13-15

30 "A horrible and shocking thing has happened in the land:
31 The prophets prophesy lies, the priests rule by their own authority, and my people love it this way. But what will you do in the end?
13 "From the least to the greatest, all are greedy for gain; prophets and priests alike, all practice deceit.
14 They dress the wound of my people as though it were not serious. 'Peace, peace,' they say, when there is no peace.
15 Are they ashamed of their loathsome conduct? No, they have no shame at all; they do not even know how to blush. So they will fall among the fallen; they will be brought down when I punish them," says the LORD.

Early in his ministry Jeremiah experiences that which is common to all the prophets of God: resistance. No one wants to hear what Jeremiah has to say.
Which is too bad. In Jeremiah God is offering his people one last chance. He’s telling them that they have a serious problem that, if left unchecked, will kill them all. The problem is that Jeremiah isn’t the only prophet in Judah. It turns out that though the people of God have abandoned God, they haven’t stopped being religious. They still meet at the temple. They still pray. They still worship. And they still consult priests and prophets. It’s just that they attend a temple that is no longer inhabited by the one true God. They maintain rites and rituals that have been emptied of any connection to the living God. And they enlist prophets who are deaf to the voice of God. Their priests and prophets tell them only what they want to hear.

Jeremiah’s grating tone and condemning message stand in bitter relief to the religious candy floss his people have been consuming. Jeremiah’s people have lost their appetite for God; for God’s Word. So they spit it out as soon as they’re exposed to it. To their deadly detriment. The medicine of God’s Word is the only antidote to the infection that’s eating them from the inside. They don’t even realize they’re dying. Jeremiah laments the fact that the very people entrusted the task of administering life-giving triage to his dying people have given nothing but sweet anesthetic to numb the pain of their spiritual gangrene.

The cure is bitter and hard to take. But it is infinitely sweeter than the slow septic death Jeremiah sees his people dying.
God’s people are constantly faced with this choice: take the bitter remedy of repentance and reconciliation with God. Or listen to the voices that tell you you’re good enough, you’re smart enough, and doggone it, people like you. Listen to the voices that tell you that you can have God and keep living your life the way you always have. Keep going to the doctor that says, “No, that’s not cancer. It’s just a blemish that keeps growing. Let me prescribe you some cover-up.” The antidote seems painful until you face the alternative. If your doctor keeps telling you what you want to hear, you might want to look for a new one.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Deceived?

Passage: Jeremiah 4

I used to enjoy taking in the occasional episode of Law and Order: Criminal Intent. I loved watching Vincent d’Onofrio’s character, Det. Gorem, use his unorthodox methods to get close to the suspects he was investigating. In one memorable episode, Gorem tracks down a man living a double life. At the climax of the film, Gorem corners the suspect (played by Lost’s Michael Emerson – a.k.a. Benjamin Linus), who is holding his children hostage in a hotel room. Gorem uses the rapport he’s developed with the suspect to give him the impression the two are friends. The suspect, obviously overwhelmed by the magnitude of the situation he’s created, allows Gorem to come close. It seems as though the detective is about to enfold the suspect in an embrace; but at the last second he instead snatches the man’s weapon and pins him to the ground. It’s the detective’s unexpected change in demeanor, and switch from confidante to captor that heightens the drama of the scene.

In Jeremiah 4 the prophet confronts God regarding a similar change in demeanor. He says to God,
"Ah, Sovereign LORD, how completely you have deceived this people and Jerusalem by saying, 'You will have peace,' when the sword is at our throats."
You see, few verses earlier God has said to Jeremiah,
“If you will return, O Israel, return to me," declares the LORD. "If you put your detestable idols out of my sight and no longer go astray, and if in a truthful, just and righteous way you swear, 'As surely as the LORD lives,' then the nations will be blessed by him and in him they will glory."
Jeremiah isn’t buying it. Sure, he believes that God would relent if his people changed their ways. But Jeremiah knows his people too well. He knows they’re not going to change. So he says, “God, why taunt me with this possibility? Why pretend that you’re here as our friend? I know how this is going to end. Not with peace.”

Jeremiah may well know how this chapter in the story of Israel and Judah will end. He will see his homeland invaded and his family and friends carted off as slaves. But this is only one chapter in a very long story.

God isn’t lying when he promises peace. God’s not lying when he promises redemption. And God isn’t playing games when he claims to be the friend of his people. God has promised from the start to save the world through the nation of Israel. And if you stick with the story you see that God does indeed make good his promise.

God keeps his promises. And God acts in the best interests of his people. Every chapter of their story is a chapter in the unfolding story of God’s plan of redemption for the world. If you are a child of God, then hang in there. God isn’t playing games with you. Your life is in his hands, and his every act serves the cause of your salvation. Don’t be deceived by your circumstances. Trust in him.

Monday, October 4, 2010

Passage: Jeremiah 1

We’re introduced to Jeremiah as the prophet who serves during the twilight years of the Kingdom of Judah. Jeremiah’s job, like Isaiah’s, is to tell his people the end is near. God commissions a reluctant Jeremiah, and gives him this assignment:
Now, I have put my words in your mouth. See, today I appoint you over nations and kingdoms to uproot and tear down, to destroy and overthrow, to build and to plant.
God obviously knows better than Jeremiah what the prophet is in for, because he goes on to say this:
Get yourself ready! Stand up and say to them whatever I command you. Do not be terrified by them, or I will terrify you before them. Today I have made you a fortified city, an iron pillar and a bronze wall to stand against the whole land—against the kings of Judah, its officials, its priests and the people of the land. They will fight against you but will not overcome you, for I am with you and will rescue you…
Don’t worry, says God. Your job is going to make you a pariah to your people. And everyone you prophesy against is going to hate you. They may even attack you. But I’ll be with you every step of the way.

At which point Jeremiah is tempted to interject: “Uh, Lord? It’s encouraging to know that you’ll be with me when the angry mobs are gathering and the government operatives are sharpening their shivs. But maybe you could give me a job that doesn’t involve ticking all those people off in the first place?”

One truth that’s borne out throughout the Old Testament is that being God’s prophet puts you in the line of fire. The prophets were never particularly popular. As Jeremiah’s story continues we see the different ways God steers him directly into the cross-hairs of friends, neighbors, and kings. Thank goodness God hasn’t called us to be prophets. Oh, wait…

Friday, October 1, 2010

In Chains

Passage: Philippians 1:12-26

The Book of Philippians is one of the most positive and encouraging letters of the New Testament. The consistent theme throughout the book seems to be, “Rejoice!” The author, Paul, repeatedly reminds members of his church how good they have it.
The great paradox of the book is that Paul is writing from prison. Moreover, Paul doesn’t know whether he will live another day as a free man. It’s possible (and assumed by many New Testament scholars) that this period of incarceration ends in Paul’s execution. Is Paul in denial?

Paul’s message in this setting is consistent with that which he has maintained for his entire ministry: life is good because he belongs to Jesus Christ. It doesn’t matter if he’s surrounded by friends or fellow inmates. It doesn’t matter whether he’s being attended by angels or prison guards. The basic condition of his life hasn’t changed: saved by grace. Redeemed for a purpose.
It is in respect to the latter that Paul not only considers his circumstances tolerable. He describes them as providential. Paul actually celebrates that he is in prison. As the book progresses, there are two reasons for this. The first is that Paul’s incarceration has introduced him to a whole new mission field. Paul doesn’t waste the opportunity to share the Gospel with other prisoners, and even the prison’s guards and wardens. Many have accepted Christ as Lord and Savior. The second is that Paul’s suffering has added a new dimension to his kinship with Jesus. Jesus suffered unjust imprisonment and death for Paul and the rest of the world’s sinners. In a profound way Paul’s own experience has heightened his sense of connection to his Savior.

It takes immense faith to see difficult circumstances not only as trials to be endured, but as opportunities. Opportunities to introduce others to the Savior; and opportunities to be drawn deeper into our relationship with him.

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Who Am I Kidding?

Passage: Isaiah 58

In the first book of his Institutes of the Christian Religion, John Calvin makes the following statement:
…since this shadow of religion (it scarcely even deserves to be called a shadow) is false and vain, it is easy to infer how much this confused knowledge of God differs from that piety which is instilled into the [hearts] of believers, and from which alone true religion springs. And yet hypocrites would fain, by means of tortuous windings, make a show of being near to God at the very time they are fleeing from him. For while the whole life ought to be one perpetual course of obedience, they rebel without fear in almost all their actions, and seek to appease him with a few paltry sacrifices; while they ought to serve him with integrity of heart and holiness of life, they endeavour to procure his favour by means of frivolous devices and punctilios of no value. (Institutes, 1.4.4)

In case you had difficulty following Calvin’s prose, the above is an argument against the pursuit of religious behavior as a substitute for a real relationship with God. The distinction, according to Calvin, is that many people pursue some form of religious expression either as false pretense of being better people than they are, or as a way of easing the guilt that arises from their innate sense of accountability to God. Neither motivation results in a connection with the divine that will have any life-saving impact. Calvin warns that religious pretense is as dangerous as, if not more dangerous than, out and out rejection of God.

Interestingly, God himself makes almost the same argument in Isaiah 58. In this chapter God confronts members of his people who have gone through all the right motions but have failed to devote their lives to him. God parodies people who have fasted in order to appear religious, or attended worship to ease their consciences, only to turn around and ignore God’s broader imperative to live transformed lives. God says, “Sure, you’ve fasted. But how have you cared for the poor? How have you fed the hungry? How have you upheld the cause of justice in your homes, your cities, and your nation?”

This is a warning that “religious” people of all stripes cannot afford to ignore. It’s not enough to “be spiritual”. It’s not enough to go to church periodically. To write the occasional check. To throw the occasional prayer up to “the big guy”. The only thing that will truly erase your guilt and redeem your life is the mercy of the one true God. A saving relationship with this God will manifest itself in radical changes to your attitudes and priorities. You will care about the people this God cares about. You will rearrange your life in response to the commands of God and the impulses of his Spirit. You will be less concerned with how you look to the people around you than how your life lines up with God’s expectations. You might be able to fool the person in the pew next to you. You can’t fool God. God doesn't care how good you look to your family or your constituents or the people at church. What God cares about is your participation in a process that will transform your life and your world.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Fulfilled

Passage: Isaiah 54:1-8; 55:1-3; 56:1-8

The film Magnolia introduces a procession of characters who, for various reasons, have lived tragically unfulfilled lives. One of them is Donnie Smith, a grown-up quiz show prodigy whose genius disappeared after he was struck by lightning. He’s now a socially stunted adult who works as a delivery driver and spends his evenings pining for a local bartender. The sense of emptiness and unrequited desire that comprises Magnolia’s central theme is captured perfectly in Donnie’s words: “I don’t know where to put things. I have all this love to give, you know? I just don’t know where to put it.”

In a remarkable three-chapter sequence, Isaiah prophesies to a world full of unfulfilled people. Chapters 54-56 represent a kind of verbal triptych in which God uses three different metaphors to describe people whose plight he holds close to his heart. The types of people mentioned are: a woman struggling with infertility; people who are hungry and poor; and those pushed to the margins of society because of physical deformity or ethnicity. God addresses the sorrow and longing represented by each type. God promises fulfillment; satisfaction; and inclusion. God listens to the cries of those people whose lives have felt incomplete and whose needs have gone unmet. God, whose ultimate plan is the restoration of his good creation, promises to restore the broken hearts and lives of his broken people - to be the fulfillment of an unfulfilled people.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

A Better Offer

Passage: Isaiah 36:1-22

If you're trying to sell a house in this economy, you'll hear the following piece of wisdom: “Your first offer’s going to be your best offer.” To back it up there are plenty of disheartening stories circulating about sellers turning down their first offers in the hopes of getting something better. After holding out as long as they could, many have settled for far less than the original offer. It seems the prudent response is to go with the offer you have instead of holding out for a better offer.

In Isaiah 36, King Hezekiah of Judah is given what appears to be his best offer. Hezekiah and his people are in the shadow of the looming threat of the Assyrian Empire. Sennacherib, king of the Assyrians, has sent a message to Hezekiah: “If you surrender now, we’ll go easy on you. We’ll only cart you out of your homes and take the best of your women and children to be our slaves. We’ll treat you relatively humanely. Or you could hold out, in which case we’ll send an army that outnumbers your population ten to one. We’ll surround your cities and you and your people will resort to eating your young to survive. Really, it’s up to you.”

Hezekiah maintains a brave face in public. But in private the king falls apart. Faced with the inevitability of an Assyrian onslaught, Hezekiah only has one choice: take the first offer. There will be no better offer. Hezekiah and his people have no choice but to submit themselves to the Assyrians and become their slaves.

Then Hezekiah receives a second message, this time from the prophet Isaiah. Isaiah says, “The Assyrians have blasphemed the name of the LORD, and for this the LORD will destroy them. Trust in God, and he will deliver you. Don’t surrender to Sennacherib!”
All of a sudden, Hezekiah has a choice. But it’s a tough one. If he holds out hope in God’s better offer, he risks incurring the wrath of the Assyrians. The sure shot still seems to be surrender to the enemy. The only thing God offers is his word.

Hezekiah takes the chance. And miraculously, God delivers. Hezekiah and his people don’t lift a finger, and the Assyrian horde is defeated. God proves himself able to overcome any adversity. All God asks is that his people trust him.

God continually invites his people to place our trust in him, rather than in property, earning potential, health, government, or military. God says, “Those things may seem like the best offer. None of them is as good as what I have for you.” Hold out. God always has the better offer.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

All the Way

Passage: Galatians 5:1-12

One of the problems the Apostle Paul confronts regularly amongst members of his church is legalism. Paul, and a majority of his fellow Christians, grew up within religious communities that placed a high value on rules. These religious rules served two purposes. The first was ensuring that practitioners were right with God. The second was establishing criteria for who belonged and who didn’t. As they’ve adapted to a new religion and a new way of relating to this God, members of Paul’s church have had difficulty figuring out how the rules fit.

Paul preaches a Gospel that insists that one gets right with God not by rules but by the blood of Jesus Christ. Moreover, membership in this new religious community is not established by outward signs but by a change of heart – the realization that one needs a Savior, and the recognition of Jesus as that Savior. For a people accustomed to measurable criteria, however, this new way of relating to God seems way too ambiguous.

So Paul keeps running into people who insist on the old rules and rituals; the old stamps of approval. In Galatians 5 Paul lays it on the line. He says, “Fine. You want to be sticklers for the law? You want to insist that your brothers and sisters follow it to the letter? Start with yourself. Everyone has their favorite rules. Everyone knows the rules that one can obey most visibly. Forget about the stuff everyone can see. Make sure you’re following every rule. Even the ones only God can monitor. If you’re going to go with the Law, you have to go all the way.”

Paul recognizes that the Law of God operates as a whole. One cannot claim to be obedient to the Law if one is not obedient to the Law in its entirety. To those who require circumcision, Paul says, “Why stop there? Go all the way. Require perfect obedience to the whole Law. But only do so after you’ve mastered it yourself.” Paul adopts this rhetoric not to dismiss God’s Law, but rather to point out its inadequacy as a means of salvation. Paul is not maligning people who strive to live in obedience to God. Paul is simply pointing out the grave error of those who use the Law to try to prove that they have a superior claim to the love of God.

Religious people have always been quick to shape their communities and routines around rules. Those rules can and do find their way to the heart of our identities and practices, such that without great care they can replace the essence of our faith. At the heart of our faith is a Gospel that reminds us: we get close to God not by the rules but by the blood of Jesus Christ; and our place in God’s heart has everything to do with the state of our own hearts. God welcomes those who recognize their desperate need for a Savior. God allows those who think they can do it on their own to go ahead and try.

Monday, September 20, 2010

Obstinate

Passage: Isaiah 30:1-18

One of my kids’ favorite movies, Cars, introduces Lightning McQueen, a hot-shot race car. At the beginning of his story, McQueen is an up-and-coming champion who has raised himself up by his lug nuts and won’t take any guff – or advice – from anyone. A self-professed “one-man show”, McQueen tunes out an older veteran of the racing circuit who takes him aside to caution him about the values of friendship and humility. The young race car reaps the consequences of his know-it-all pride when, in an off-road showdown with racing legend Doc Hudson, McQueen is advised, “Turn right to go left.” True to form, McQueen says, “What do you know? I’ll do it my way, thank you very much.” McQueen’s obstinacy culminates in a precipitous drop into a cactus patch.

The Old Testament tells the story of a young, upstart nation intent on going its own way. God’s chosen people, the Israelites, receive fair warning. God tells them repeatedly, “Do things my way. I know what I’m talking about.” His people refuse, insisting instead on going it alone. In fact, they get irritated when God’s prophets intervene to try to set them straight. Isaiah records the response God’s people give him every time he opens his mouth:
"Give us no more visions of what is right! Tell us pleasant things, prophesy illusions. Leave this way, get off this path, and stop confronting us with the Holy One of Israel!” In other words, "Let out of our way so we can take this path to our deaths."

Isaiah expresses the frustration and sadness of a God who only wants to spare his beloved people pain.
Isaiah tells his people to listen to reason and turn around. He says,
“In repentance and rest is your salvation; in quietness and trust is your strength… Everything you need is right here. Just stop running. Turn around – repent. Take God at his word.”

When we are intent on a course of action, we tend to disregard the advice of anyone who doesn’t affirm us. Like Isaiah’s audience we are tempted to say, “Give us no more visions of what is right! Tell us pleasant things…” We want to go our own way. God’s word confronts us with a way of life that is a change of direction. We’re not sure we want to alter our course away from what we’ve set our sights on. We are, however, fairly warned. If the way to the thing you want steers you away from God, it can only lead one place: death. Don’t cling to that way. Don’t be obstinate. Turn around.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

That'll be the Day

Passage: Isaiah 19:1-25

As you may have noticed, Isaiah doesn’t limit his condemnation to the people of Judah. God’s prophet expands his gaze to the four corners of the earth, taking in every nation whose idolatry and corruption have been exposed to the light of God’s judgment. In Isaiah 19 God spends some time highlighting what he has in store for Egypt. It doesn’t look good.

The passage ends, however, on a hopeful note that seems at odds with the overall message. Given that Isaiah’s intended audience is the people of Judah, it’s not hard to imagine that the conclusion to chapter 19 is not, at least initially, well-received.

After going into some detail regarding the ways God will break Egypt, the historic enemy of his people, Isaiah writes:
In that day five cities in Egypt will speak the language of Canaan and swear allegiance to the LORD Almighty.
He goes on to say that Egypt will erect a monument and a temple to the God of the Hebrews. That the Egyptians and the Assyrians and the children of Israel will be united in their allegiance to the one true God. Isaiah concludes,
In that day Israel will be the third, along with Egypt and Assyria, a blessing on the earth. The LORD Almighty will bless them, saying, "Blessed be Egypt my people, Assyria my handiwork, and Israel my inheritance."
Wait a minute, say Isaiah’s audience members. That’s not the way the story ends. It ends with God crushing our enemies and restoring us – his chosen ones – to our rightful place as rulers of the world!

Not so. God’s stated purpose for his people, right from the start, has been to use them as a conduit for his blessing to the entire world. God gives Isaiah a glimpse of what that will look like: the powers of the world no longer locked in an endless struggle for dominance but locked in a familial embrace. The nations finding unity on their knees before a God not of war and destruction but a God of peace and reconciliation. God’s goal for his people is not to get them ahead of everyone else, but to show everyone else the way. One day, says Isaiah, there won’t be Israel and Assyria and Egypt. There will just be one people: the people of God.

This is what we’re working on. A world drawn together not under a dominant unifying government, but under the care and direction of a loving and all-powerful God. Our job isn’t to topple and decry the governments and nations we don’t like. According to Isaiah, that’s God’s job. Ours is to worship the one true God, to show the world what it means to live as God’s people, and hope to God that we see the day our enemies are embraced as his children.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Do Not Fear...

Passage: Isaiah 8:11-18

When I was a kid I would regularly try to stall the going-to-bed process. I’d stay up as long as I could. Even after I’d been put to bed I’d get back up. Tell my parents I needed a drink of water. Tell them I had to go to the bathroom. Tell them anything to buy a few more minutes of awake time. My most common excuse was this: “I’m scared!” Once in awhile one or the other of my parents would get fed up and say, “Go back to bed or I’ll give you something to be afraid of!” I’d scoot back to bed. Of course what they meant – in so many words – was, “You have nothing to be afraid of. I’m here. Go back to bed!”

One of the things that characterizes the Book of Isaiah is good news wrapped up in bad news. Isaiah repeatedly tells his people that they will suffer God’s judgment. In the next breath Isaiah speaks tenderly of God’s promised salvation. In chapter 8 Isaiah says this:
Do not call conspiracy everything that these people call conspiracy; do not fear what they fear, and do not dread it. The LORD Almighty is the one you are to regard as holy, he is the one you are to fear…
Isaiah is addressing a nation consumed with fear. They’re afraid of economic recession; they’re afraid of famine and disease; they’re terrified of the invading armies of their more powerful neighbors. Isaiah’s message is, “There’s only one thing you need to fear: God!” The paradox is this: if they feared God, they wouldn’t have to be afraid of anything else.

In these fearful times, Isaiah’s words are more relevant than ever. We are bombarded with news of conspiracy and calamity. The intent, it seems, of every commentator and every news source is to fill us with fear. We are well served to listen to the prophet: "Do not call conspiracy everything that these people call conspiracy; do not fear what they fear. The LORD Almighty is the one you are to regard as holy, he is the one you are to fear."
If you fear God, you have nothing to be afraid of.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

I Don't Mean to Brag...

Passage: 2 Corinthians 11:16-12:10

In 2 Corinthians 11 and 12 the Apostle Paul, who is sometimes given to hyperbole, seems to lose it altogether. In fact, he admits of himself: “I am speaking as a fool…I am out of my mind to talk like this.” What pushes Paul over the edge?

Paul recognizes his peers’ propensity to boast. He belongs to a culture of male bravado and machismo, in which it is customary for a guy to herald his achievements and flaunt his strengths. As more of his contemporaries have converted to Christianity, Paul has nurtured in them values that are countercultural: compassion; conciliation; humility. Paul has been gratified to see these values take root.

But old habits die hard. In correspondence with a member of the church in Corinth, Paul catches wind of the resurgence of a persistent practice: boasting. Members of Paul’s church, having apparently mastered this whole Christian thing, have begun boasting about how good they are at it. Specifically, they’ve begun boasting about suffering for their faith. How brave they are in the face of opposition; how strong they are in maintaining their faith in the face of adversity.

Paul heaves a sigh. And fires off a letter. “Guys,” he says. “You still don’t get it. It’s not about you. It’s not about how great you are. If anyone should boast about suffering for the faith, it’s me. But I don’t. What I should be highlighting is my weakness. And so should you. Why? Because the more obvious it is we need a Savior, the more remarkable our Savior will appear. What is our job, if not to direct the world’s attention to our Savior?”

Live out your faith. Live it out the best you can. But don’t make it about how well you know your Bible. How much you do for other people. Don’t make it about how morally good you are. If you want to draw people’s attention to something, draw their attention to your flaws. Your failures. Let them know how bad you need a Savior. Brag about how good your Savior is.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Putting God to the Test

Passage: Isaiah 7

The Book of Isaiah offers a fine balance between God’s judgment and God’s grace. The predominant theme of the book is that the people of Judah – the remnant of God’s chosen people – will suffer the consequences of generations’ worth of rebellion against God. This judgment is, by all accounts, inevitable. Yet even as Isaiah’s doomsday ministry unfolds it seems as though God keeps changing his mind. There are repeated moments at which God promises to make good his offer of deliverance. From our historical vantage point we recognize the fulfillment of this promise in the person of Jesus Christ (the long awaited “Immanuel”). We know God intended to bring salvation all along - but at a much later time than that of Isaiah.

Yet there are points in the story when God seems also to offer salvation in the immediate. One such point is Isaiah’s conversation with King Ahaz in chapter seven. Ahaz has faced off against his closest competition: the kings of Aram and (remarkably) his sister state, Israel. Ahaz and his people are hard pressed. They are holding their own, but at this point it is anyone’s battle. God sends Isaiah with a message: Don’t worry, Ahaz. God will defeat your enemies for you. You can even ask me for a sign – for confirmation that I am with you.

Ahaz refuses. His excuse is this: “I will not put the LORD my God to the test.” Is this a show of piety? Tragically it is not. Ahaz refrains from putting God to the test because he doesn’t believe God is there. Ahaz intends to seek help not from God, but from a lesser superpower: Assyria. If you read the rest of the story, you’ll see how that works out for him.

Isaiah’s response to Ahaz is harsh: “It’s one thing to test my patience. But don’t test God’s. God will, in fact, send a sign. A child. His name will be Immanuel.” Isaiah’s message for Ahaz is the same as God’s message for his people throughout this book: I will bring the salvation I have always promised. But as a consequence of your lack of faith, you will not see it.

God repeatedly invites his people test his promises. When we refrain it is only because we don’t trust that God will come through. What happens to our faith if we live our lives never really trusting God to come through? Where do we place our trust, if not in God? And how will we see God's salvation if we never really expect to?

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Shameless Plug

Passage: 2 Corinthians 9:6-15

The Apostle Paul is not known for his subtlety. In his letters to various churches he is confrontational and blunt about all kinds of issues: church order, marriage, sexual ethics and tepid faith. Paul is as honest about his own needs and struggles as he is about his churches’ problems. In 2 Corinthians 9 he exhorts his church to give. This is a practice that is, apparently, as old as the church, and has always rubbed people the wrong way. “I don’t go to church anymore because I’m tired of getting hit up for money”; “All those televangelists want to do is line their own pockets.” It’s easy to be cynical about the shameless plugs religious types make in order to fill the coffers. And it would be easy to dismiss Paul’s plug in 2 Corinthians as more of the same.

We’re remiss to do so. Paul’s appeal to the Corinthian church is about much more than helping a sister church in need. It’s about more than just funding a ministry or a pastor’s salary. What Paul highlights is the fact that giving is an essential ethic of the Christian life. It’s a response not primarily to a pressing practical need, but an appropriate response to God’s abundant generosity. Paul tells his church that they’ve all been the recipients of an invaluable gift. Paul reminds his church that their needs will always be met by their generous God. In response, says Paul, it makes sense to share of the overabundance we’ve all received from God. Using the metaphor of planting and harvesting, Paul argues that the more his church gives, the more they’ll get. It’s apparent that the return to which Paul refers here isn’t primarily financial. This isn’t some supernatural investment scheme. Paul and his church are invested not in their own 401K’s, but in the Kingdom of God. The fruit of their labors is the mission of the church – a world transformed, one person at a time, by the love of Jesus Christ. This, says Paul, is what you’re investing in. You can never invest too much.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Did I Just Open the Wrong Book?

Passage: Song of Solomon 1

Song of Solomon is a book of the Bible I don’t enjoy reading. Seriously. I have an easier time reading about God’s judgment in Jeremiah; about human brutality in Judges; about the futility of the human condition in Ecclesiastes. Song of Solomon switches gears so fast I get whiplash. It just doesn’t seem to fit. It’s too…mushy.

In the history of biblical interpretation there have been others who share my discomfort. There is at least one school of thought that suggests that Song of Solomon is one big metaphor for God’s love for his people. To read it otherwise, they say, is to venture into territory unfit for self-respecting Bible readers. Of course there is also a long tradition of ascetic and puritanical Christianity that maintains that romantic love and sexual desire are evil. The two theories seem to support each other. In general we don’t like to mix sex and religion, and Song of Solomon threatens to blur the lines.

However, there is a way to read Song of Solomon that both legitimizes the sentiments it expresses and defends its place in the canon. It starts with recognizing that sexual love and desire are God-created gifts that we were made to enjoy. Song of Solomon celebrates the natural longing and desire that marriage was designed to fulfill. Husbands and wives should feel for each other the way the “lover” and “beloved” of the book obviously do. Ideally, husbands and wives should feel that way about each other long after the hormone-charged days of courtship and early marriage have passed. There’s nothing better, say the actors in this romance, than to be united for life with someone you’re crazy about.

That being said, those who claim Song of Solomon is a metaphor for God’s relationship with his people aren’t off the mark, either. The Bible consistently uses romantic, even marital, language to describe God’s love and longing for humanity. God is described as a lover; the unfaithfulness of God’s people compared to the infidelity of a wayward partner; the church referred to as “the bride of Christ.” How do we reconcile all these ideas?

The most intimate union we can imagine is the sexual union of husband and wife. It’s the closest two people can be. Moreover the physical intimacy enjoyed by a married couple is really an expression of their emotional and spiritual intimacy. They have devoted their lives to one another. They have committed to being fully open and vulnerable to each other. They are connected in an exclusive, one-of-kind way that, ideally, they will know with no other person. It doesn’t get any closer.

The intimacy that God desires with us and that we are created to desire with God runs even deeper. Marriage is the closest comparison because we don’t know any closer. God knows us more clearly and loves us more purely than the closest of lovers.

Song of Solomon introduces the image of two people who are wholly devoted to each other and long to be connected in the most intimate way. This is a kind of relationship to be desired and sought after. It’s also just a shadow of the wholeness and the fulfillment we will know perfectly when we meet Jesus, the lover of our souls, face-to-face.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

The Conclusion of the Matter

Passage: Ecclesiastes 12:9-14

In the last verses of Ecclesiastes a second voice asserts itself. Most of the book has consisted of the words of “The Teacher.” Then, when the Teacher’s lengthy rant finally comes to an end, a narrator takes the stage. He says a few words about how wise and influential the Teacher was. He goes on to caution the reader against listening to anyone else’s advice.

Then, as though he can’t help himself, the narrator adds some advice of his own. Perhaps after reading back through the preceding material the narrator recognizes how it sounds – pessimistic; critical; at times self-contradictory. He has to wrap it all up somehow. So, in conclusion, he says,
Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man.
For God will bring every deed into judgment, including every hidden thing, whether it is good or evil.
Remarkably, it’s this post-script that brings the whole book back in line with the rest of the Old Testament. For much of his discourse the Teacher talks about how fleeting life is. He goes to great lengths to urge his readers to make the most of every day because you can’t know if today will be your last. He invites his listeners to avoid agonizing over the bigger questions of life’s meaning and what happens after we die because there are no rock-solid answers to those questions. Exclamation point. We’re confused because we've been led to believe that the point of the Bible is to give answers to those questions.

As though aware of the dilemma, the narrator jumps in at the last minute to connect the dots for us. God’s in control, he says. God knows the stuff we can’t know. Therefore in order to live every passing day with peace, live in step with God. Follow God’s rules, and trust your future to God’s care. Phew.

What we have to ask is this: Is this the official conclusion to Ecclesiastes, or a later addition by an unsatisfied editor? Would Ecclesiastes still fit our canon if it didn’t have this God-friendly final word? Does the conclusion of the book fit with all that precedes it?
You could argue either way. It could very well be that the whole of the book was composed in a point-counterpoint fashion in order to heighten the impact of its overall message. The final imperative to walk in step with God makes more sense when you’ve been confronted with the futility and emptiness of life without God.

However, even without its conclusion, Ecclesiastes provides remarkable - even inspired - insight into the human condition. Whether or not one has faith in God, one cannot escape the fact that life is made up largely of repeating cycles and routine activity. These could easily lose their meaning over time. What the Teacher urges everyone to do is find a way to make the repetitive and routine stuff of life meaningful. This, he says, is the secret to living a full and joyful life. This is, as it turns out, divinely inspired wisdom. The focus of God’s Law – that Law according to which the final narrator exhorts us to live – is this very thing. Living out one’s routine duties and relationships in a healthy and functional way. Making commitments to people and to responsibilities, and sticking with them. Honoring and respecting other people; tending and caring for others and the world you live in. Making the most of the mundane. Whether you understand this as overt response to a divine mandate, or see it simply as a good way to go, this is the wise way to live.

Saturday, September 4, 2010

No Guarantee

Passage: Ecclesiastes 3:9-22

The Old Testament has some pretty depressing books. Judges, for instance, chronicles the steady decline that occurs in the religious and moral life of the Israelites almost immediately following their settlement of the Promised Land. 2 Chronicles details the deterioration of the Kingdom of Israel and the eventual exile of its people to Babylon – all forewarned by God’s prophets. Hosea presents a prophet commanded by God to marry a prostitute in order to serve as a metaphor for God’s relationship with his unfaithful people.

Then there’s Ecclesiastes. Ecclesiastes is depressing not because it tells a sad story, but because it paints a sweepingly pessimistic picture of all human experience. The author of Ecclesiastes, named simply “Qoheleth”, or, “The Teacher,” mentions on all the normal things in which people invest themselves: education; work; marriage; family; pleasure. He proceeds to talk about the futility of each of these pursuits. Educated people suffer as much as uneducated ones; the fruits of one’s life’s work eventually go to someone else; spouses die; kids grow up; the aging body loses its capacity for pleasure. And, of course, everybody eventually dies. Verse after verse the author peels back layer after bitter layer to reveal the truth we’re all scrambling to avoid: everything you cherish in life will one day be taken away.

Wait a minute, say the religious among us. There’s always the afterlife, isn’t there? The author fixes us with a steely gaze. How can you be so sure?

In his third chapter the Teacher turns his cynical eye even on this – the last hope for those disenchanted with the promises of this life. He says,
I also said to myself, "As for human beings, God tests them so that they may see that they are like the animals. Surely the fate of human beings is like that of the animals; the same fate awaits them both: As one dies, so dies the other. All have the same breath; humans have no advantage over animals. Everything is meaningless. All go to the same place; all come from dust, and to dust all return. Who knows if the human spirit rises upward and if the spirit of the animal goes down into the earth?"
How has such an expression of doubt made its way into our Bible? And how do we make sense of it?

The author of Ecclesiastes is presenting, for polemical purposes, the perspective of someone without faith. Looking simply at the physical evidence, you can’t help drawing the same conclusions as the Teacher. Life is short; everybody dies; in the process everybody loses everything. And there is no empirical evidence that life goes on after death. There’s no guarantee that death isn’t the end. All we have to go on is someone else’s word.

The key to the life of faith is trusting that there’s something more. Trusting God’s word, and those who bear witness to it. Trusting that God not only preserves our life and identity for eternity but also guides and watches over our lives here and now. God’s word promises us that our lives aren’t buried in the earth with our deceased bodies; we are distinguished from other creatures in that we are created in God’s image. We hold out hope that life has meaning and that death isn’t the end of the line based not on any physical guarantee but on the promise of a good God.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Settling Up

Passage: Job 42:7-17

You could draw two possible conclusions when you get to the end of Job. On one hand you could say, “God gave Job a raw deal, but at least he makes up for it by giving Job back more than he lost.” On the other you could say, “So what if God gives Job more property and kids? It doesn’t undo the injustice and pain of Job’s experience!” Either conclusion is valid. But neither is complete. To say God compensates Job at the end of the story is to reduce the magnitude of Job’s suffering. One cannot be compensated for the loss of a child, let alone all one’s children. Certain lost things can’t be replaced. To say, on the other hand, that God can’t make up for the terrible things Job suffered is to reduce God to a purveyor of property and experience. God is justified not on the basis of human experience but on the basis of being God.

Human beings can’t cry foul every time God deals them a bad hand. God’s justice takes into account an immeasurable number of factors; God’s dealings with any one person must be weighed against God’s dealings with everyone. The value of any of God’s dealings must also be assessed not according to any human objective but according to God’s objectives.

When God settles up at the end of Job, God doesn’t apologize. God confronts Job’s “friends” for their gross misjudgment of the cosmic order of things and related abuse of Job. God demands that they make amends. God chastises Job for demanding an explanation that God does not owe him. And then God gives good things to Job. God does so not as an act of penance – God has not done wrong. God does so not to compensate Job for what Job lost – there can be no adequate compensation. God gives Job good things because God is a good God. This is what Job maintains throughout his ordeal; this is what distinguishes Job as a man of great faith. And this is the paradoxical message of the Book of Job as a whole: God is a good God. God is, by nature, worthy of a worship that is not contingent upon the conditions of the worshiper.

God is also interested in settling up with people not on the basis of their merits, but on the basis of God’s merits. Here’s how God goes about settling up with us:

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. (John 3:16-17)