Special

Passage: Lamentations 1:1-7

The character at the center of the film Polish Wedding is the matriarch of a working-class immigrant family living in a suburb of Detroit.  The mother of five young-adult children, she is comfortable in her role as head of her household.  Her hard-working husband is devoted to her.  And she’s involved in a longtime affair with her boss.  At a certain point this boss points out that she holds herself in surprisingly high esteem for a low-paid cleaning lady.  She responds, “At home, I am queen.” And in that moment she realizes the truth.  To her boss she’s merely a plaything.  A disposable object who is nothing special.   She thinks of herself as a queen because her husband – the one at home while she’s out fooling around – has always treated her as his prize.

The Book of Lamentations begins at this very moment of recognition for God’s chosen people.  Jeremiah the prophet pours out his grief as his people are carried off to slavery in Babylon.  In the words of his lament Jeremiah captures the truth: Israel is a tiny nation in a world full of tiny nations.  And as is the lot of every tiny nation, Israel has become the plaything of a much more powerful empire. 

This is a devastating wake-up call for a nation that has always thought of itself as a crown jewel.  As the most important people on earth.  Given their numbers and their obvious vulnerability, why in the world would the Israelites think that they’re so special?

Because this is what God has always told them.  In Deuteronomy 7, God tells the Israelites that they are the object of his affection.  And he tells them why:

The Lord did not set his affection on you and choose you because you were more numerous than other peoples, for you were the fewest of all peoples. But it was because the Lord loved you and kept the oath he swore to your ancestors that he brought you out with a mighty hand and redeemed you from the land of slavery, from the power of Pharaoh king of Egypt. Know therefore that the Lord your God is God; he is the faithful God, keeping his covenant of love to a thousand generations of those who love him and keep his commandments. (Deuteronomy 7:7-9)

The Israelites are where they are because they’ve let God’s marvelous love go to their heads.  They’ve concluded, “God loves us because we’re so special.”  This assumption has led them to toy with God’s affection, and flirt with neighbors that seem a little more flashy and glamorous than their faithful, attentive, steady God.  Too late they’ve realized that to their substitute – their lover – sees them as a disposable object.

God doesn’t love them because they’re special.  They’re special because God loves them.  The thing is, in spite of their repeated infidelities, God never stops loving his people.  He continues to invite them to come back and be special again.  Through Jeremiah God says,

“You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back from captivity. I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile.” (Jeremiah 29:13-14)

This is God’s invitation to all of us.  Stop trying to be special by proving you’re better than the people around you.  Stop believing that the only way you’ll be loved is by being more special than anyone else.  Discover anew that you are cherished by God – the object of his affection – and learn what it means to be special because he loves you.

Sure Thing

Passage: Jeremiah 42

I remember the first time I stuck my tongue on a piece of frozen metal.  My dad had warned me on some earlier occasion never to lick something metal if it was cold outside.  Growing up in Canada, this was a pertinent message.  There was a lot of cold metal lying around.  My dad said that, without fail, my tongue would stick to the metal and I’d lose skin when I pulled it off.  And it would hurt.  Every time.  My suffering would be inevitable.

Through the Prophet Jeremiah God warns his people of the inevitable.  They have seen the Babylonian Empire encroaching on their territory.  They are convinced that there’s no way they can stand up to the Babylonians.  So they come up with a plan.  They’ll flee to Egypt, and find solace in the shelter of another pagan superpower.  God sends a clear message: If you go to Egypt, you will die.  Does God have something specific against Egypt?  No.  What God has something against is his people’s continued adherence to a strategy that never works: looking to an earthly power for ultimate security.  God says, “If you stay put, you will see what I’m capable of.  Trust me to protect you.”  He goes on, “If you go to Egypt, you will die.  Why?  Because they can’t protect you.”  If you depend on a person, political entity, or military force to preserve your life, you will be disappointed because it will fail.  Maybe not the first time, but eventually.  Inevitably.  There’s only one sure thing, says God.  Trust in me.

So it is with us.  We persistently go back to the same people and same places for comfort, security, and reassurance.  Inevitably each of those things will fail to do what deep down we hope it will: keep pain, infirmity and death at bay.  God says, “If you seek shelter in that thing, you’ll die.”  What’s the alternative?  To find our shelter and solace in the one who faced death and won.  The God who promised to deliver Israel if they’d just listen; the God who came to us in person to deliver on his promise.  Our one sure thing.  Remain in him; he will build you up; he will deliver you not only from the momentary and fleeting troubles of this life, but from death itself.  

Inside Out

Passage: Jeremiah 14:13-22

The leader of a training seminar I once attended talked about narcissistic personality disorder.  This is a condition whereby an individual is so pathologically dishonest that they believe their own lies and create an alternate reality in their minds.  They become so convinced of this internal reality that the people around them become convinced of it, too.  The instructor went on to say that narcissists appear with disproportionate regularity in the following four professions: politics; entertainment; corporate leadership; and ministry.  One of the things that guarantees success in each of these fields is selling a constituency on your view of reality – particularly if your view is more optimistic than that of your competitors. 

In Jeremiah 14 the prophet of God is surrounded by narcissists – people who are convinced God has spoken to them.  And people who claim that God’s forecast is rosy.  Jeremiah on the other hand has heard dire predictions from God – threats of impending doom if God’s people don’t change their ways.  Who wants to hear that?  Jeremiah’s competitors get their own TV programs and radio spots.  Jeremiah gets tossed out on his ear.  The problem, of course, is that Jeremiah’s telling the truth.  Jeremiah’s predicting a coming storm that will wipe his people off the face of the map unless they prepare for it.  He has what they need to correct their course and survive.  But they can’t hear it for the noise of the narcissists. 

We have become a society of narcissists.  In a recent address, Tim Keller observed that we increasingly attribute our problems to forces outside us rather than recognize the internal impulses that lead us astray.  We say, “I’m not the problem.  It’s everyone else that’s the problem.”  We refuse to listen to any voice that implies we need to change.  Keller says, “If all your problems are external, you’re hopeless.  Why? Because you can’t change those things.”  If, on the other hand, you accept what the Bible teaches – that is, that the root of our problem is the sin that has infected each one of us – then there’s hope. The antidote to narcissism is also the antidote to our problems: the Holy Spirit of God.  At Pentecost, the Spirit descends in power on those who believe in Jesus Christ.  The Spirit continues to be the agent of transformation and renewal – of our hearts and minds; and of the world around us. 

But the Spirit cannot complete his work in us if we insist the problem isn’t us.  We have to accept the Spirit’s testimony: you’re not right. So doing we can receive the rest his message: I can make you right.  We have to tune out the voices that simply reinforce our internal realities – that say, “You’re fine – it’s the rest of the world that has a problem”.   And tune in to the voices that tell us we need to change from the inside out.  We need a voice from the outside, and a power from the outside, to come and transform us from the inside.  Be willing to hear what you don’t want to hear.  And receive the one power that’s bigger than your problems.  Let the Spirit transform your inner reality, and bring you into God’s reality.  

The God Who Saves

Passage: Isaiah 45:18-23; Acts 4:1-12

In Isaiah 44:9-20 the prophet describes a man cutting a piece of wood in two.  The man painstakingly shapes one half of the wood into a beautiful image.  He kneels before the image and prays to it.  He then proceeds to light the remaining half on fire and roast hot dogs and marshmallows over it.  Kosher hot dogs, presumably.  This, says Isaiah, illustrates the folly of idolatry.  People repeatedly turn to the fleeting, flawed and failing stuff of earth for salvation.  None of it – no created thing – can save.  In the Hebrew Old Testament, the word pesel (“idol”) is almost invariably paired with the word bal, which is often translated “worthless” or “vain”, but means, literally, “not”.  It’s a word that evokes an absence or failure.  In other words, God identifies all the substitutes to which people turn as “not-God”.  In his next chapter, Isaiah adds this word:

…there is no God apart from me, a righteous God and a Savior; there is none but me.

Nothing can do what God does.

This is an unpopular stance.  At a sentimental level we don’t like it because we don’t want to admit that the objects of most of our ambitions and affections will ultimately get us nowhere.  At a cultural or political level it’s offensive to claim that only one deity bearing only one name is the one route to eternal salvation.  It’s exclusive and elitist.

Unless it’s true. 

Centuries after Isaiah recorded God’s controversial words, the disciples of Jesus find themselves embroiled in more controversy.  On their way out of church, Peter and John are accosted by a panhandler.  The man is disabled; when he asks the apostles for money, they say, “We have none.  But we can give you something else: in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk.”  The man does so.  News of the healing spreads; the religious authorities grab Peter and John and demand to know “by whose name or by what power” the healing occurred.  Peter says,

It is by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom you crucified but whom God raised from the dead, that this man stands before you healed.

Then he adds,

Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved. (Acts 4:10, 12)

No other name than Jesus – the only Jesus of Nazareth, risen and ascended.  Jesus – “Yeshua” – whose name means, the Lord saves. 

At the heart of Christianity is this conviction: there is no other name by which we can be saved.  Exclusive?  Of course.  But if Jesus is indeed the embodiment of the one true God, then it’s a waste of time looking for your salvation anywhere else.  Money; sex; food; politics?  Isaiah says, “Use your head.  Each one of these things is as temporal as you are.  How can you be saved by something that, like you, will one day be reduced to its constituent elements?”  Turn to the only one – the only name – that can truly save.  The only one who conquered death and promises to share his resurrection.  Jesus, whose very name is salvation.  

Peace and Security in My Lifetime

Passage: Isaiah 38:1-7; 39:1-8

One of the most tragic parts of Isaiah is the account of King Hezekiah’s illness and recovery.  Hezekiah is described as the last God-fearing king of Judah.  His reign falls a few short years before the remnant of God’s people is conquered by Babylon and carted off as slaves.  Earlier in his ministry Hezekiah stood on the walls of Jerusalem watching the Assyrians build siege works around the entire city.  Hezekiah trusted God rather than acquiesce to the demands of his pagan adversary; and God sent a heavenly army to deliver his servant. 

As an old man, Hezekiah is again approached by the emissaries of a pagan superpower.  Rather than send them packing, Hezekiah invites them in and parades the fruits of his accomplishments before them.  He’s competing in the big leagues – and feeling pretty good about himself.

Later, God sends his own emissary – Isaiah – to Hezekiah’s palace.  Like a good lawyer, Isaiah asks a question to which he already knows the answer: “Who were those men?  And what did you show them?”  Hezekiah responds, casually, “They were from a distant land.  I think they said, ‘Babylon’.  And I showed them everything.” 

Isaiah says, “That’s exactly what they’re going to take the next time they come knocking.  We aren’t like them.  You didn’t get all this because of your size or strength.  You got it because God gave it to you.  But you know what?  You want to play in their league so badly?  You will.  And you’ll lose.  Your own sons will be mutilated and enslaved by your friend, the king of Babylon.”

And here’s the kicker.  Hezekiah says,

The word of the Lord is good, because at least there will be peace and security in my lifetime. 

How often do we make the same calculation?  Yes, I’m ignoring this aspect of my kids’ behavior; yes, I’m mismanaging this part of my finances; yes, I’m neglecting my marriage; yes, I’m militating against this necessary change in my city or in my church…

But at least there will be peace and security in my lifetime.

To hell with the next generation.  Who cares if my peace comes at the cost of my descendants’ peace?  As long as I don’t have to give up what I want, I’m happy. 

God expects more of us.  The life God offers us comes at a cost.  Typically the cost is some of our comfort; some of our security; some of our happiness now - sometimes more; sometimes less.  God demands that we make these sacrifices in order to secure a better future – for descendants that we know and love, and for future generations that we will know only in glory. 

In Philippians, the Apostle Paul describes a king who is everything that Hezekiah failed to be:  the Messiah, Jesus, who gave up all of his peace and security to bring peace and security to the world.  Paul says,

Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.  In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus:

Who, being in very nature God,
    did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;

 rather, he made himself nothing
    by taking the very nature of a servant…

In exchange for our own peace here and now, God offers us ultimate comfort; ultimate security; ultimate fulfillment.  Don’t settle for peace and security in your lifetime.  Militate for shalom – God’s restoration of all things for all time.    

Unfinished Thoughts on God's Justice and Our Indignation

Passage: Matthew 25:31-46

When people react with anger and indignation toward those passages of the Old Testament dealing with God’s judgment on certain people, I wonder on whose behalf they are indignant.  The rhetoric typically goes like this: “How could God will the violent deaths of all those innocent people?”  One flaw underlying this rhetoric is the assumption that the people who suffer God’s wrath are innocent. 

But there’s a subtler flaw.  It’s this: the assumption that God cares less about people than we do.  In Jesus Christ, God turns our criticism back upon us by challenging us to put our money where our mouth is.  Jesus tells all those of us who are tempted to militate on behalf of all those anonymous “innocent” people instead to militate on behalf of the living, breathing people right in front of us.  Are you mad that people died in God-sanctioned battles years ago?  Then channel that anger into saving children from dying of worms and malnutrition right now.  Are you indignant that God lashed out against people he identified as his enemies?  Channel that indignation into loving your enemies and praying for those who persecute you.

Those of us who are incensed at God’s apparent insensitivity are reacting to our own insecurity that we are living in God’s good graces.  If God judged them, couldn’t he also judge me?  And how dare he?  If you’re just worried about yourself, then in fact you have reason to worry. 

If on the other hand you trust God’s grace, then you also trust God’s judgment.  Rather than blame God for being capricious and cruel, you celebrate God’s compassion.  And you embrace compassion as your response to a world full of people at dying right here, right now.  If you truly believe people are innocent, you should devote your life to saving them.  If you accept that none of us are innocent but rather objects of divine mercy, then all the more reason to save others in the very same way God saved you.  Indignation toward God is useless – whether you believe in him or not.  Compassionate action is the only productive response to a world whose brokenness seems indiscriminate.  But here’s the irony: Jesus teaches that when you respond to that brokenness with compassion, you will end up – even in spite of yourself – communing with the living God.    

Wasted Favor

Passage: Isaiah 26:7-15

The greatest obstacle to accessing the Old Testament is all the violence.  Christians and critics alike stumble over stories in which God sanctions the wholesale slaughter or displacement of Israel’s political enemies.  Many decide either to ignore those sections as aberrations, or to write off any biblical faith that considers these passages God’s word.

Among other commentators, the prophet Isaiah presents an explanation that is, albeit unpalatable to non-believers, at least consistent with the complete story the Bible tells.

Isaiah argues that God’s purpose is always to reveal his full goodness and glory to all humanity.  And that God’s goal for any person is to become a person of righteousness – a person who embraces God’s intended framework for human life.  This includes accepting God as Creator and Master as well as enjoying God as loving parent and companion.  Implicit to this is acknowledging that God’s way is better than ours, and submitting to God’s power and authority.

This is where we get hung up – and always have.  There have been and will be to the end of human history individuals and societies that cannot submit.  That would rather die than be ruled.  If in fact this were a godless world – one in which the only rulers were flawed and fallible fellow humans – then refusing to submit would be natural and reasonable.  If however the world was ruled by a loving and all-powerful God, then submission would be the only fitting response and the way to live with genuine peace and prosperity.  When God enters human space, people have two choices: God’s way, which ultimately leads to life; or their own way, which inevitably leads to death.  Isaiah and the other authors of the Old Testament argue that there is nothing unmerciful in God willing death upon those who have already chosen it. 

Isaiah, the historic nation of Israel, and the new nation of the church assume a world governed by an all-powerful and loving God.  Isaiah argues that if you embrace God as ruler and Father, you are in a unique position.  Those events that others would consider merely good fortune you see as gifts given by a gracious God.  Those events that others would consider unfortunate you accept as means by which God is guiding you and shaping your character.  Experiences of every kind make you more righteous – that is, bring you closer into step with God.  On the other hand, Isaiah argues, even good fortune is wasted on the wicked – that is, people who have rejected God and God’s ways.  Good things, let alone bad, are ineffective in convincing the wicked that God is real. 

The takeaway?  Trust the wisdom of Isaiah.  Believe that there is a God who is so great – and so loving – that we do best when we submit to him.  And live by a faith that trusts God’s hand in every experience – delightful and difficult. 

A note from a very old-fashioned confession of faith, the Heidelberg Catechism (Lord's Day 10):

27  Q.  What do you understand by the providence of God?

A.  Providence is the almighty and ever present power of God by which he upholds, as with his hand, heaven and earth and all creatures, and so rules them that leaf and blade, rain and drought, fruitful and lean years, food and drink, health and sickness, prosperity and poverty – all things, in fact, come to us not by chance but from his fatherly hand.

28  Q.  How does the knowledge of God's creation and providence help us?

A.  We can be patient when things go against us, thankful when things go well, and for the future we can have good confidence in our faithful God and Father that nothing will separate us from his love. All creatures are so completely in his hand that without his will they can neither move nor be moved.