Reading the Bible with Pastor Bill Roen

Changed my email address. New address is williamroen@gmail.com

2011-12-09T06:43:00.000-08:00

Because of problems with my yahoo.com email address, I've changed to

Bill Roen

Day 293. NT Day 16. Mark 14-16.

2011-11-13T15:36:00.001-08:00

The two minutes or so following the death of Jesus, according to Mark's Gospel, are filled with wild confusion. Yet they are also the most significant minutes in the history of the world, the beginning of a new relationship between God and humankind.

From noon that Friday until three in the afternoon the world is cloaked in ominous darkness (15:33), as if light, the first of God's creatures, has been negated. The old creation has ended as it began, in darkness and meaningless chaos.

There is a terrible pause. Then Jesus utters a formless cry and breathes his last, and all at once "the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom" (15:38). In the older translations the curtain is called a "veil," but that gives the modern reader a false impression. This curtain is by no means diaphanous; it is thick and heavy, less of a veil and more of a carpet, thick and richly embroidered with images of angels. It closed the opening between the Holy Place from the Holy of Holies, the innermost sanctum of the Jerusalem Temple, which only the High Priest could enter and then only once a year, on the Day of Atonement, to sprinkle sacrificial blood for the sins of the people. There was the strictest taboo against anyone else penetrating this room. Death was the forfeit.

Indeed, so holy was the place that the High Priest's robes were sewn with tiny golden bells so that when he did enter, he could be heard moving about. And a rope was tied to his leg before he entered, so that if the noise of the bells ceased those waiting outside would know that he had died during the performance of his duties, and his body could be hauled out without further desecration of the place behind the curtain.

By Jesus time the Holy of Holies was an empty room. The Ark of the Covenant, which it had once housed, had long since been destroyed or lost. But the room and the curtain that covered its entrance still had great symbolic power, a barrier representing the absolute transcendence of the God who is infinitely above and beyond the created universe, whose very name is so holy that it cannot be uttered.

So the cutting of the curtain from top to bottom at the moment of Jesus' death would be an act of wanton destruction and sacrilege, if God himself not already done it. He cut through the barrier from within to let himself out of the stuffy precincts of human religion. Now he is indeed Emmanuel—God with us. He not only is born among and lives with us, he also dies with us. With the death of Jesus the distance we had created between ourselves and God is finally and completely erased. Transcendence is swallowed up in immanence. Jesus dies so the men and women may live, and his Spirit is now completely present in the world. He is with us, the Good News. Now we can never be left alone.

In Mark's Gospel, the moment of Jesus' death represents the quantum leap forward into the Kingdom. Hidden until now, the true identity of the Man of Power and Mystery is suddenly revealed. The great irony for Mark is that the only person present who understands what has happened is the nameless Roman officer in charge of Jesus' execution. The last one who should recognize who Jesus is is the only one who does.

It is difficult to know what to make of the centurion's confession. Does he really understand what he is saying? "Surely this man was God's Son" (verse 39) can be as easily translated, "Surely this was the son of a god"—and that is a pretty ambivalent confession. But faith is always ambivalent. No one fully understands who Jesus is or what happens on the cross. But that doesn't matter. For Mark the centurion's confession is still the climax of his gospel story. In his telling of it, Jesus' family does not know who he is. His disciples do not know who he is. The religious leaders of his own nation do not know who he is. His true identity remains hidden until the very moment of his death. And even then it is revealed only partially and incompletely to the eyes of faith.

Our faith is like the faith of the centurion; he reminds us of ourselves. He is uncertain, confused, knowing what he sees on the cross has changed everything, and yet unable to grasp its full meaning. Seeing the light, he is still in the dark—and so are we.

Day 292. New Testament Day 15. Mark 10-13

2011-11-03T13:51:00.001-07:00

The relationship between Christian obedience and material prosperity is broadly discussed in modern American Christianity. Certain prominent "evangelical" preachers have made a considerable windfall for themselves by telling people what they want to hear—that if they follow some sort of financial formula based upon "spiritual principles"--they will prosper financially. But the story of the rich man found in our reading for today directly challenges this "prosperity gospel." And at the same time it calls those who hear the call to follow Jesus to renounce earthly dependencies—including wealth—and live a life of "evangelical poverty."

St. Mark tells us that "as [Jesus] was setting out on a journey, a man ran up and knelt before him, and asked, 'Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?'" (10:17). As is so often the case in the gospels, we are not supplied with much background about this man. When Matthew tells the story, he informs us that Jesus' questioner is "young" as well as rich (Matt. 19:16-22). He is a nice Jewish lad who comes to Jesus the Great Rabbi, the New Moses, to seek advice as to how to live a life of perfect obedience to the Law. His youthfulness is central to the meaning of Matthew's story.

In Mark's gospel, however, we are not told anything about his age, except that it is implied by the words "from my youth" (v. 20) that he is no longer young. We have the sense that he is a mature man who is disillusioned by the search for certainty, and this gives his inquiry greater urgency. He chases Jesus down—in Mark's gospel Jesus is always in a hurry—and when he catches him, he presses upon him a life or death question: "Good Teacher, what must I do . . . ?"

Typically Jesus rejects any hint of flattery; "Why do you call me good?" he asks. This rebuff does not imply that Jesus has any particular awareness of his own sinfulness; at the end of Mark's Gospel Jesus is acknowledged as the sinless Son of God (15:39). Certainly from the Jewish point of view absolute goodness adheres to God alone (see Psalm 100:5), and it is an impiety to ascribe it elsewhere. But the real point of Jesus' negative response is to establish that the whole human pursuit of goodness is futile. St. Mark shares with St. Paul a firm conviction that human beings are helpless in the power of sin (see Romans 7:18), and the evangelist uses the story of the rich man to insist that what he seeks—eternal life—is not available through obedience, no matter how rigorous. Moral perfection is not even an option for human beings. Even if we were obedient to the Law of Moses in all its detail, we would still lack that which is most crucial for our salvation—renunciation of all that is worldly and acceptance of God's gift of grace on God's terms—by naked faith and blind trust.

This is not Matthew's way of telling the story, but there is a basic difference between the theologies of Matthew and Mark. Matthew's is a gospel of obedience—for him discipleship means obedience to the Spirit of Jesus, the Living Teacher of the Church. On the other hand, Mark's is a gospel of faith. His focus is trust, and he is largely indifferent to the Law of Moses and its commands, which Matthew affirms and upholds (Matthew 5:17-20).

So in Matthew when the "rich young man" asks what he still lacks in his search for perfection, Jesus gives him prescription for a more rigorous obedience that goes beyond the Law of Moses (Matthew 19:21). In Mark we are told that Jesus "looking at him, loved him" (10:21), and so he gives him an honest answer--there is nothing you can do that will save you. Righteousness is humanly impossible. Only faith, expressed in the rejection of all earthly dependencies, opens the door to eternal life—the life that alone deserves the name of life. And faith is exactly what the rich man in the story lacks, and cannot gain; he is "shocked" and goes "away grieving," still trusting ultimately in his "many possessions." The disciples are likewise "perplexed" by Jesus' answer.

Jews of Jesus' time—and many contemporary Christians—regard wealth as sign of God's approval—seal of divine approval. The Old Testament stories of Abraham and Job are often mustered in support this belief, which went unchallenged in Jesus' time. But this is yet another way in which the Christian Gospel turned the world up-side-down. Jesus taught that wealth makes those who possess it self-sufficient, and is therefore a danger to our relationship to God and a barrier to grace, rather than a by-product of righteousness. And inequality, far from being an expression of God's will, is a sign of sin and yet another symptom of creation gone tragically haywire.

Pastor Bill Roen in Haiti. Blog posts will resume when he returns next week.

2011-10-19T07:00:00.001-07:00

Day 291. (New Testament Day 14) Mark 7-9

2011-10-12T15:35:00.001-07:00

Having gotten all the conventional answers, Jesus asks the disciples, "But who do you say that I am?" And Peter answers him, "You are the Messiah" (8:29). In St. Mark's gospel, it is a moment of transformation for Peter. He is still only a partial disciple. He will go on to deny Jesus three times. But what happens to him at Caesarea Philippi is crucial, a giant step, even though it isn't until much later that he will have the courage to carry through on the confession he makes that day.

Jesus had already asked his disciples--Who do people say that I am? In Greek people is "hoi anthropoi," which means humankind or human beings, as opposed to God and his angels and the demons, who already know who Jesus is. Here "hoi anthropoi" means those outside the circle of the disciples, including Jesus' enemies—of which there were many. Who do others say that I am?

And how this question is answered, then as now, is conditioned by the cross. Jesus with the cross is our savior, our redeemer, our reconciler to God, to ourselves and to one another--the most important fact in creation. Jesus without the cross can be anything under the sun--a prophet, a teacher, a healer, a charlatan, a fraud, a self-deluded trouble-maker. Jesus without the cross can be either the conservative or the liberal ideologue—take your pick.

The answer to the question—Who is Jesus?--depends upon the hopes and fears of the time in which it is asked. In Jesus' lifetime that was certainly so. Apparently during his lifetime there was a rumor abroad that Jesus was John the Baptist resurrected—see Mark 6:14-15. Jesus wasn't. It was a widespread belief--based upon the Old Testament book of Malachi (4:5)—that the prophet Elijah would return before the coming of the Day of the Lord. It was a time of intense eschatological speculation—like our own, and some thought they recognized in Jesus Elijah's long anticipated return—see Mark 9:10-13. Other candidates, notably Moses, were also mentioned, but Jesus was not a dead prophet, no matter how great. What is remarkable is that in the midst of such a babel of supposition and conjecture, no one recognizes Jesus as who he really is—not until Peter's inspired guess. But the question—"Who do you say that I am?" –is addressed to us as much as to the disciples. The pronoun "you" makes that clear. What is important is not what others say, but what you and I say. Who is he to us personally? To those outside Jesus will always remain a mystery, an unknown, but is he known to us?

According to Mark, Simon Peter is the first human being to correctly—if incompletely—answer the question—Who is Jesus? He confesses Jesus as the long-expected deliverer of Israel, but his identity as "Son of God" remains hidden. Only his cross will reveal Jesus as crucified Messiah and present Lord of all. And then it is not a disciple—they have all high-tailed it by then—but a pagan centurion—speaking for Mark's gentile church--who makes the final, definitive profession of faith—see 15:39.

But once Peter openly identifies him as the Messiah, Jesus does a strange thing—to our thinking anyway—he "sternly orders [his disciples] not to tell anyone about him" (8:30). Notice that he does not deny that he is the Messiah; he simply endeavors to keep his true identity a secret. This reticence is typical of the Gospel of Mark, where Jesus is always portrayed as Man of Mystery. Earlier in the gospel, demons are forbidden to say that Jesus is the Messiah—see 1:23ff—now the disciples are told to say nothing. Why? Well in part the reason lies in the problematic nature of the title Anointed One. By Jesus' time the coming Messiah was closely connected with the hopes of certain groups of radical Jewish patriots—notably the Zealots—who had made the restoration of the royal house of David the cornerstone of their agenda. There was at least one Zealot among Jesus' disciples. But Jesus certainly wanted to disassociate himself with their terrorist tactics in particular and from Jewish dreams of national glory in general.

Instead Jesus defines messiahship in terms of the suffering servant described the prophet Isaiah (chapters 49-50). To be the Messiah means willing acceptance of the cross with all that it implies. This is the mystery Jesus seeks to share with his disciples (8:31), and through them with the Church. And the Church must follow the example of the Suffering Messiah. Peter tries to hush him (8:32), but Jesus turns and hushes him instead, not because Peter's insight into his messiahship is false, but because it is limited. Simon Peter is still a partial disciple who clings to the false hope of glory without the suffering of the cross.

Day 290 (New Testament Day 13) Mark 4-6

2011-10-08T16:24:00.000-07:00

For the church to which the evangelist Mark is writing his gospel the world is a combat zone. Everywhere around them they could see evidence that God and Satan are locked in a struggle to the death. It is easy for us, in the midst of the confusion of our time, to identify with that feeling. Then as now, the Church—the people in the boat—is surrounded by chaos. The social order is disrupted and disorderly, even violent. Viciousness and criminality triumph over gentleness and virtue. The forces of nature are destructive and dangerous—droughts, famines, and earthquakes. The chaos outside is mirrored in the life of the Christian community. False leaders appear to lead the weak astray, and conflict arises within families because of the preaching of the Gospel. There are legal entanglements and persecutions to contend with. Demonic forces are hard at work everywhere, and there is uncertainty and fear in the community.

That is what the church of St. Mark was contending with. It is no wonder that the story of the stilling of the sea (4:35-41) resonated with them. They wanted and needed a man of power to save them, a hero, and they found him in Jesus, who "woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, 'Peace! Be still!' Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm" (4:39). The story proclaims the good news that Jesus has authority over the natural world of wind and waves, just as he demonstrates his power over the supernatural realm, the world of demons and evil spirits, in the story that follows--5:1-20.

It all happens in the evening and that is important for the meaning of the story. Evening is the time when the resurrected Lord appears to his disciples, and this is an Easter evening story. One evening on the Sea of Galilee the disciples are with Jesus in the boat. The boat is the most ancient symbol of the Church. The Church is the ark of salvation; like the ark of Noah, it is mankind's only source of life and salvation in a dangerous and potentially deadly world. Suddenly a storm breaks upon the tiny boat, and Jesus' disciples are terrified by the apocalyptic chaos that surrounds them.

But where is Jesus? The gospel writer tells us he is right there in the stern of boat, asleep on the cushion. He is apparently serene and untroubled by the violence of the storm; he is certain of his power to command—but the disciples aren't so sure. And in to those chaotic moments when our lives seem most out of control we are also tempted to wonder where the Lord is and whether he cares about our predicament. We mistake detachment for indifference.

So do the disciples. They wake Jesus with a rebuke about his lack of concern—"Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing." You see, they could be as passive-aggressive as we sometimes are. Mark is always at pains to place the first followers of Jesus in the most unflattering light possible. They are cowards. They are "perishers." They are not even sure what they expect him to do for them.

But the response Jesus makes is immediate and decisive—as it always is in Mark's gospel. He is never a perisher, like us. He commands the howling wind—"Peace! Be still!" Literally he says—"Be muzzled!" Or in even more vulgar language—"Shut up!" It is in exactly these words and with this tone that Jesus addresses demons—Mark 1:25. No nonsense. And sure enough the wind ceases, and there is a dead calm. A natural explanation is possible, of course; the storm may have just blown itself out. But that is not the point for Mark , for whom Jesus is the Man of Power, who has the authority to rebuke both demons and the demonic energies of the natural world.

He rebukes the cowardly disciples too. "Why are you afraid?" he wants to know. "Have you still no faith?" And we need to notice that fear is made the opposite of faith, not doubt, which is just its absence. When it comes to following Jesus, faith and courage are one and the same. The miracle of the stilling of the sea impresses the disciples, but it does not create faith in them. They are still "perishers." They are filled with "great awe," but they are not illuminated. At the end of the story they are left asking—"Who then is this, that even the winds obey him?" Miracles may produce the awestruck question—Who then is this?--but the disciples do not have the "Easter evening faith" necessary to frame the right answer—Jesus is the powerful Lord of the Church. But we do. The Holy Spirit, the presence of Jesus, provides that faith. We know that in the midst of the chaos of our lives the Lord is always in the boat with us, and not only "the wind and the sea," but all the powers that worry and harass us "obey him.

Day 289. (NT Day 12). Mark 1-3

2011-10-06T06:12:00.001-07:00

"After John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, 'The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news'" (1:14-15).

In the Gospel of Mark everything happens suddenly. The gospel begins abruptly with the sudden appearance of John the Baptist. He comes out of nowhere, and then he is abruptly swept aside to make room for the one "more powerful" (1:7) than he. Then just as suddenly Jesus breaks upon Galilee like a storm, "proclaiming the Gospel"—for Mark the Gospel Jesus proclaims is Jesus himself.

The evangelist has traditionally been placed among the companions of St. Paul. We don't know if Mark actually traveled with Paul, but his point of view is certainly like that of the gentile churches Paul founded. The evangelists Matthew and Luke are more closely related to a Jewish obedience-centered religion. In their gospels Jesus comes to teach a new way of living, and he does this through teachings and parables. But Mark's gospel is a story of mighty actions. Jesus is the man of Power who comes to defeat the powers of evil and to proclaim that God is about to establish his Kingdom on earth. In Mark we listen in vain for the kind of ethical teaching we find in Matthew's Sermon on the Mount. What we do hear—and see--is Jesus "proclaiming the good news" with power and authority.

And what is the content of this good news? In Mark's gospel it is a message of destruction and renewal. The radical transformation of the present, corrupt era into a new and purified one is the theme of all the apocalyptic books of the Bible, books like Daniel and Revelation. Mark's gospel is apocalyptic; Jesus proclaims the good news that the old eon is about to end and another is about to begin.

In Mark's gospel the moment of Jesus' coming is the cusp of time; it is the moment when God lowers the curtain upon an epoch marked by strife and opposition, and clears the stage for a new age to begin. "The time is fulfilled; the kingdom of God has come near," Jesus says. God sends His Man into the world to effect this change; Jesus believes that his life and death are crucial for that change to take place. And when Jesus rises from the dead, the early church, of which Mark was a part, sees Jesus' proclamation validated, and interprets the resurrection as the beginning of the new eon, a time when old certainties are called into question and the established order is reversed, when the dead rise and anything can happen.

So in such a world what should our lives be like? "Repent, and believe the good news," Jesus replies. Repentance is not a very important theme in the rest of Mark's gospel. As in Paul's gentile churches his emphasis is not on what we do, but on what God has done. For Paul and Mark, Jesus Christ is God's rescue act, redeeming a helpless and lost humanity from its slavery to the power of death. Repentance implies a real freedom on the part of human beings, but the Gospel of Mark focuses not on human freedom but upon the powerful Son of God who conquers the enemy we could never overcome. As it is expressed in the words of a Sunday school hymn—"we are weak but he is strong." Repentance lies beyond our powers, but the second half of Jesus' command, "believe the Gospel," is closer to the heart of Mark's message. Jesus is the Gospel; to be a Christian is to believe the story of God's rescue, and to respond in faith by becoming his disciple.

And that is exactly what happens next in Mark; Jesus calls his first disciples. This is not just an account of the call of the Galilee fishermen. It is also an ideal picture of what our response should be to the preaching of the Gospel. When Jesus calls us we should drop everything else and follow. The imminent coming of God's kingdom demands an immediate response. So Mark tells the story of the calling of the disciples twice, as if for emphasis, and both times their response to the call is immediate. And this sets up a pattern in Mark of immediate responses. The word "immediately" is used by the evangelist again and again to stress that the only appropriate response to the Gospel is an instantaneous one.

And that wonderful summons Jesus gives them—"Follow me and I will make you fish for people"—is the key to everything. These words come to us directly from the mouth of Jesus, remembered by the disciples to whom they were spoken. They are both a call to labor in the Kingdom and an assurance of the powerful Son of God that he will share his strength and courage with those who share his mission. It was a promise he kept to those Galilee fisherman, and keeps to us.

Vacation

2011-09-13T18:14:00.001-07:00

I'll resume postings when I return from vacation the first week of October.

Pastor Bill Roen

Day 288. New Testament Day 11. Matthew 27-28

2011-09-13T18:12:00.000-07:00

The most interesting moral choices that surround the trial and death of Jesus do not take place in the plotting of the chief priests or the howling violence of the crowd, but in the mind of an otherwise obscure Roman bureaucrat named Pontius Pilate. That Jesus was crucified "under" him is his only real claim to significance. He is the only historical character, apart from Jesus and his mother Mary, who is mentioned in the Creed. In part, he is only mentioned there to affirm its historicity. The death of Jesus and his resurrection are not a timeless myth; they took place at a certain moment in our history. They happened. But Pontius Pilate also represents humanity—not at its best or at its worst, but as it is. In the Inferno, Dante and his guide Virgil encounter Pontius Pilate in the vestibule of hell, among those who in their lives did nothing, either good or bad. There Dante is asked to pass judgment on him—and so are we. We are asked to judge the judge.

And Pilate is not a bad man—just a competent Roman functionary. When he asks Jesus if he is the king of the Jews, he clearly does not take the question with great seriousness, although the charge was a grave one. We know from Luke 13:1 that Pilate had already savagely put down several Jewish insurrections, and can be sure that he was prepared to deal peremptorily with any political threats to Roman rule in the region. When Jesus was brought before him, he is prepared for denials and for rage, but not for what he got—silence. Matthew, who is always looking back to the Old Testament to show that Jesus is in fact the promised Messiah, sees Isaiah 53:7 as prefiguring this. Jesus remains detached, non-committal, entering no plea, and Pilate is "greatly amazed."

But Pilate knows that there is no real evidence behind the charge, and he does his best to get his silent prisoner off. The gospels tell us that it was customary for the Romans to release a convict during Passover. The city of Jerusalem was always packed with pilgrims at that time of the year, and the religious and patriotic implications of the feast fueled unrest. The city was a tinderbox. There were often riots, and letting a prisoner go served to release some of the pent up tension in the air. Selection was made by popular petition. Mark 15:7 tells us that Barabbas was a revolutionary—the very thing Jesus is accused of being. It is interesting that certain ancient manuscripts of the New Testament call him Jesus Barabbas, which adds further irony to the situation. So the choice is between two men named Jesus, one the rabbi from Nazareth the other a terrorist. Matthew calls him "a notorious prisoner"—scum, but apparently a popular hero.

Matthew has a great interest in dreams (see 2:13ff). The dream of Pilate's wife is to be found only in Matthew's account, and it serves as a dramatic warning of the terrible consequences anyone who plays any part in Jesus' death will suffer. Ancient Romans were profoundly superstitious, and this warning would certainly have had an effect upon the governor, who now presses even harder to win Jesus' release. But the crowd will have none of it. They demand the release of Barabbas and the crucifixion of Jesus. When Pilate sees that he is getting nowhere and in fact a riot seems to be beginning, he surrenders to evil and calls for water to wash his hands before the crowd—"I am innocent of this man's blood; see to it yourselves," he says (27:24). But what is the nature of innocence? Is it only the refusal to accept responsibility? Is one who surrenders under pressure and condemns what he knows to be an innocent man morally any better than those who exert the pressure. Is it really better to be nothing at all—lukewarm—than actively bad? Often people treat their refusal to take responsibility as innocence. They want to forgive themselves for being neither good nor bad.

The evangelist emphasizes that the Jews—especially their leaders—accept the responsibility for the execution of Jesus--even though it was carried out by Romans, in the Roman manner, under Roman, and not Jewish law. The blood curse spoken the people "as a whole"--"His blood be on us and on our children!" (27:25)—has unleashed centuries of anti-Semitic violence. But what about Pontius Pilate? What is our judgment of the judge who knew what was right and did not do it? We know that evil is not the opposite of good; it is the absence of good. It is the vacuum left when goodness and mercy have been sucked out of the world. So that is what Pilate of guilty of—the absence of good. But when we judge him, we judge ourselves for all those times when in the face of evil we have washed our hands and turned away from Jesus protesting our innocence. But the story of Pontius Pilate reminds us that the greatest crimes are not committed; they are permitted.

Day 287. New Testament Day 10. Matthew 25-26

2011-09-12T16:44:00.001-07:00

In one of the parables Jesus tells in our reading for today—the final parable in Matthew's gospel—the righteous answer-- "'Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? When was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?' And the king will answer them, 'Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these the members of my family, you did it to me'" (Matthew 25:37-40).

This parable contains elements of apocalyptic literature—in other words, it looks beyond the present age to describe "the end," the goal of history. Apocalyptic seeks to answer the question---What does all this we are going through now mean? It contains not only menace, but also comfort. And the comfort apocalyptic literature offers to persecuted minorities—and that is how the church of Matthew saw itself--is that their suffering has an ultimate, transcendent meaning. For those who have no hope in the present, there has to be the promise of a glorious vindication to come. For those who experience injustice now, it promises that faithfulness will be rewarded and unfaithfulness punished. The present situation will not last forever. There will be an end.

Apocalyptic literature seeks a sense of history that would otherwise be absurd. This parable makes sense of history by placing Jesus in its center. It says—very explicitly--that the decisions made by men and women now in relation to Jesus will determine their destiny in the age to come. There is an element of threat here, and danger. Judgment is real, but it is not arbitrary or unfair. It is universal, but also very individual. Men and women pass judgment upon themselves by the way they relate to Jesus. (This theme appears again and again in the Gospels--see John 3:16-21.) At the moment of our encounter with Jesus Christ we judge ourselves by our response to him, and that judgment is ratified on Judgment Day.

In the Old Testament God turns over the judgment of the world to the Messiah, the prince of the house of David, who is destined to establish an earthly kingdom of peace and justice. By New Testament times this idea had developed into the belief that the Son of Man, the eschatological super-man, will judge all men. The Church explicitly identified the Son of Man with Jesus the Messiah. So in the Nicene Creed we say that we believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ who "will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead, and his kingdom will have no end." In Matthew's Gospel Jesus, the Living Teacher of the Church, tells this parable about Jesus, the Judge of the World, who is himself the criterion of judgment.

Human beings are separated into the sheep and goats, into those who belong to the flock and those who may graze with the flock, but do not belong to it. Sheep are placed on the Lord's right—the lucky side in the New Testament (see John 21:6 and Luke 23:33)—and goats on the left. The decisive factor is whether or not they performed acts of mercy. (Remember the beatitude found in Matthew 5:7--"Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.") And the acts of mercy mentioned are very concrete; they are not simply good wishes or charitable feelings. They do not consist in being a "nice" person, let alone a respectable one. And those saving acts of mercy are directed not to one's own kin or nation or to "the least of my family." In the mouth of the historical Jesus "the least of my family" or "my brethren" may have meant the disciples, the seed of the Church, those who followed him. But in the mouth of the risen Lord "my family" certainly refers of all humankind. Those who have acted mercifully toward "my family," the Judge proclaims, have done the same "to me."

Now everyone is puzzled. Those who are being welcomed into the kingdom have no recollection of having performed acts of mercy to Jesus. They simply proceeded upon their instinct for kindness and sympathy. Informed by grace and not self-interest, they responded to their fellow creatures in need. They did what they did not out of any hope for reward or fear of punishment, but simply because was good. Good is instinctual--but so is selfishness. Those who are condemned are equally clueless. They acted out of self-interest without thinking that what they were doing was particularly bad. But in the end they find themselves isolated from the mercy of God, because they failed to show mercy. When did we see you in need? They ask. They didn't—that's just it. They didn't see him. When we encounter those in need and actually see them, we see the Lord, and upon our response everything----everything that matters—depends.

Day 286. New Testament Day 9. Matthew 23-24

2011-09-10T10:57:00.000-07:00

In our reading for today Jesus tells his disciples: "About that day and hour [of the coming of the Son of Man] no one knows, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father"(Matthew 24:36). The fact that Jesus forbids speculation as to the exact time of the end, however, has not inhibited guesswork about God's intentions on this score. From the day that Jesus' resurrection appearances ceased until the present, Christians, moved by the same pervasive longing, have asked the same question again and again—When will we see Him again?

And there is still no answer to that question. Early Christians anticipated the Lord's immediate return. Later Christians saw the great calamities of history as a sign that he is coming very soon. Modern Christians look at a world in turmoil and conclude that the return of the Lord Jesus must be long overdue. But like his coming the first time, his return will be a sudden and unpredictable event; "as the days of Noah were . . . before the flood," the risen Christ puts it, so the world will be going about its worldly business and then all at once suddenly . . . what?

According to our reading the "parousia"—the return of Christ—will reveal circumstances that have heretofore been hidden. Two men will be out working in the field together, one will be "taken" and the other left. Two women will be grinding meal together; they share the same occupation and look alike, but God knows the difference. One is taken the other is left behind (Matthew 24:40-41). We might assume that the ones who are "taken" are those who have gotten right with the Lord, been "saved" or whatever. But is this really what the parable means?

Many Jews in Jesus' time, and this included many Pharisees—whose doctrines in the gospel of Matthew are much like those of Jesus—believed that on the last day the wicked would be annihilated the righteous would be left in possession of a renewed creation over which the LORD would reign—what Jesus called "the Kingdom of God." Remember the beatitude that says—"Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth" (Matthew 5:5). So consider this--Who are the righteous in the parable? Are they those who are "taken" or those who remain to "inherit the earth" at the Lord's return?

This passage from Matthew has often been used to underpin an expectation of the so-called "Rapture"—the latest evangelical craze--but that would be a mistake. The primary text for the "rapture" is 1 Thessalonians 4:15ff. I Thessalonians is the very earliest letter we have from the hand of St. Paul, and it was written in part to reassure a church that was worrying about what would happen to the dead. Will they share in the return of Christ? St. Paul affirms that yes, on the last day the dead in Christ will rise first and will be caught up into the clouds to join the returning Lord. Then those who are alive at Christ's return will join the resurrected dead "in the air," a place between earth and sky. And what will happen then? What will be the fate of the non-Christian dead, the "left behind"? Writing in I Corinthians 15:50-54, where he has received a fuller revelation on the subject, Paul says that at the Lord's return the living will be transformed into a closer resemblance to Christ. But in his scenario there is no mention of the Lord's actual descent to the earth, and there is no room for anything like the millennial rule of the Messiah such as St. John describes in Revelation 20:4-6. It is worth noting that Paul never again mentions the "rapture" in any of his later writings.

And none of this speculation has any place in Jesus' own teaching. In Matthew's gospel, the manner as well as the time of the Son of Man's return remains a profound mystery, known only to the Father. The New Testament writers are united in affirming that the risen and ascended Lord will return, but each describes that return using different images. It is in fact an "unimaginable" event, one which exists beyond history and cannot be effectively described.

The only sound advice we have in this regard is this—"Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming." Useless and time-consuming speculations are forbidden. Breaking and entering seems to have been as much of a problem in New Testament times as it is in ours. The image the Lord's return as like a "thief in the night" appears again and again in the New Testament. (See 1 Thessalonians 5:4.) And the householder's attitude of watchful preparedness is commended in the light of what will be a sudden, unpredictable turn of events. As servants of the Master we have been put in charge. There is more than enough for us to do before his return. There is no time left for calculations about the time or the manner of the Lord's return. When it happens we will know that it has.

Day 285. New Testament Day 8. Matthew 21-22

2011-09-09T07:29:00.001-07:00

According to Matthew the last week of Jesus' life bristled with controversy. His outspoken criticisms had earned him many determined enemies, and now they were closing in on him. His destruction had created a common cause among the rival groups within the Judaism of his time, but they were all well aware that in order to finish him off they must get in him trouble with the Roman authorities, who alone had the power to inflict capital punishment. And what better way of doing that than to involve Jesus on the wrong side of dispute over paying the head tax demanded by the Roman emperor. The tax was not a crushing one—one denarius, or the usual day's pay of Palestinian laborer—but it was required by Rome from all subject peoples (see Luke 2:1), and it was much hated.

So the disciples of Pharisees—the patriotic, ultra-observant party, the usual bad guys in the gospel of Matthew—join with the Herodians— the supporters of the family of Herod the Great, the petty princelings who ruled as puppets of the Roman government, and they come to Jesus with a question—"Is it lawful [according to the Law of Moses] to pay taxes to the emperor or not?" (22:17) They first praise his honesty and integrity. Whether this is a cynical attempt at manipulation or not—the evangelist Matthew thinks it is—nevertheless the question is a dangerous one and puts Jesus between a rock and a hard place.

If he says "yes," that would put him the pocket of the hated Romans and alienate him from those who longed for Israel's independence. This would be the position of the Herodians in our reading; they "belonged" to the ruling authorities. But that Jesus would cast his lot with them seems hardly likely; he was no Quisling. Pagan oppression of God's chosen people would surely be an outrage to one who teaches "the way of God in accordance with truth," and shows "deference to no one." But if Jesus says "no," that would lay the grounds for a charge of insurrection and subversion.

Jesus, however, is not taken in by their stratagems; "aware of their malice," he replies—"Show me the money." And his opponents reach into their pockets and produce a denarius. Money —then as now-- "belonged" to the government; it was a crime to coin your own. "Whose head is this, and whose title?" Jesus asks. It is, of course, a purely rhetorical question. Everyone present recognizes the likeness of the divine emperor and his name--Tiberius. And everyone present also knows the first commandment of the God of Israel—"You shall not make for yourself an idol"—an image—"whether in the form of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth" (20:4). So Jesus tricked the tricksters back. For any Jew to possess such an image and carry on his or her person is to break the Law of Moses. Jesus' questioners are themselves compromised by the money they carry.

The coin itself provides Jesus' answer to enemies' tricky question. If it bears Caesar's face and Caesar's name is on it, it must belong to Caesar. The money is his property, and he has a right to ask for it back. So the followers of Jesus in every time—and remember, Matthew is a handbook for discipleship—must not think of money as belonging to them. They may use it, but they may not possess it or let it take possession of them. Their ultimate allegiance belongs to God. They should be prepared to render obedience and taxes to the powers that be, even godless ones (Romans 13:6-7), but not buy into the structures they represent.

So what are the limits of Christian obedience to the state? Everyone is going to have a different answer because each of us feels a different level allegiance to the government under which we live. The state has authority over us—I doubt that anyone would seriously deny that—but authority means something different to each one of us. And political authority always wears a different human face. Christians are never going to agree on whether such and such a leader is a great statesman or a low-down skunk. Order to one is oppression to another. So the claims of a particular Caesar to our loyalty and love must be determined by each man or woman on the basis of his or her conscience and common sense. But this much is beyond dispute—as long as we live, we live under someone's authority. We can't live without Caesar's money, so we are all compromised by it. But compromise is not surrender. Caesar is not God, even though he always has ambitions in that direction. As Jesus elsewhere remarks, no one can serve two masters (Matthew 6:24). In the end a choice is demanded—God or Caesar. The problem is that many contemporary American Christians do not think that that choice is necessary.

Day 284. New Testament Day 7. Matthew 18-20.

2011-09-07T08:27:00.001-07:00

After his death and resurrection the Church remembers many things about the Rabbi from Nazareth, among them that liked the company of children. In our reading for today it says that "little children were being brought to [Jesus] in order that he might lay his hands on them and pray. The disciples spoke sternly to those who brought them; but Jesus said, 'Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of heaven belongs.' And he laid his hands on them and went on his way."

The attitude reflected in this story is a highly unusual one among Jewish males of Jesus' time, who would have regarded the presence of children as a nuisance. The idea that childhood is something valuable in itself is a modern idea; the 19^th Century sentimentalized childhood in a way that it never had been before. In earlier times, childhood was—for both children and adults--an ordeal to be endured and "gotten through' as quickly as possible. We have all heard the expression—"Children should be seen and not heard"—and that was indeed the attitude of earlier times. Children were expected to remain politely silent in the presence of adults. Look at pictures of children from earlier centuries and you will see that they were dressed like little adults. They were expected to act like adults too, growing up fast and working hard at very adult jobs. Both sexes were subjected to the strictest discipline, including beating. They were often sent away by their parents, upper class boys to school and college. Working class children were farmed out at an earlier age—the boys as apprentices and the girls as housemaids. Both sexes were married very young by modern standards—especially the girls. The reasons were not just economic. Before the 19^th Century a large—indeed shockingly large—portion of infants and young children died of childhood diseases. People loved their children then as now, but there were sound emotional reasons for detachment. People did not value the freedom, simplicity, and spontaneity of childhood. "Little ones" were expected to grow up as quickly as possible. Children resisted, of course—as children will. But St. Paul's attitude is more typical. He writes: "When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways" (1 Corinthians 13:11).

Jesus did not think this way, and that made him rare and almost unique in ancient times. His attitude was nothing short of revolutionary—and the Church remembered it. He saw childhood not as a situation to be endured and but an attitude adopted--and a paradigm of life in the kingdom of heaven. When some of his disciples come to him with the question—"Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?"--Jesus produces an actual child, whom he sets among them—a symbolic action—and says, ""Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven." (18:15). The emphasis here is upon the word "change"—the disciples must make a conscious change, which went against the demands of their culture and upbringing—rather than "growing up," they must make the decision to "grow downward."

Children in Jesus' time were expected to be humble and obedient, and the true follower of Jesus must adopt those same attitudes. Children were at the lowest level in the social stratum, and disciples were to put themselves there was well. "Become like children"--it is a command that has no parallel in the ancient world, pagan or Jewish, where dignity was a paramount virtue. Yet the sacrifice of our pride is necessary for greatness in the reign of God. Jesus says, "Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven." This was the conscious pattern of Jesus' own life. For him the essence of faith was to recognize his own dependency and to rely upon the strength of his Abba—his Father in heaven. Jesus portrays himself as the image of the child, and says, "Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me" (18:1-5). For him the Gospel—the good news that God's kingdom is breaking into the world-- is a gift to be received with childlike joy and not an intellectual puzzle to be solved.

In distinction from Jesus, the disciples take the attitude of the male Jews of his day toward children—they see them and those who bring them for Jesus to "lay his hands on them and pray" as pests and distractions. But Matthew uses this story as an opportunity to display something that is very dear to the hearts of modern Christians—the friendliness and affability of Jesus. The picture he paints of the Lord is not of a dour teacher but of man filled with good-natured cordiality, who says of himself—"The Son of Man [comes] eating and drinking, and they say, 'Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!" (11:19).

Day 283. New Testament Day 6. Matthew 15-17

2011-09-06T07:29:00.001-07:00

Remember that we said earlier--in Matthew's gospel the miracles of Jesus complete his teaching. The miracle makes the teaching "real." That is what happens in our reading for today, where it says "a Canaanite woman from that region came out and started shouting, 'Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon.' But Jesus did not answer her at all."

The silence of Jesus is always a mysterious thing. The very few times in the gospels when he is silent—see Matthew 26:63—are the moments when Jesus is most distant and perplexing to us. And our instinct is to try to make him warm and familiar—more like us. Political and religious liberals want to make him a liberal like themselves; political and religious conservatives want to make him a conservative. We want to make Jesus "our man"—more modern, more perfect—or less so. It doesn't work. He is God's man. Jesus resists all our categories, and he transcends them all. He was like us. God made himself like us in Jesus, but we cannot use Jesus to mold God in our image. He is always the Other. The silence of Jesus reminds us of the distance between God's man and world he came save.

Yet in many ways the Jesus of the gospels is a man of his time—a male Jew of the first century. And in the story of the Canaanite woman, he is pushed to the edge of his comfort zone. He is in a foreign land, far from home--after his rejection in Galilee (13:54ff), he travels to the predominately gentile region of Tyre and Sidon. And there he is confronted by a hysterical woman. Matthew calls her "a Canaanite woman." In the OT the Canaanites were a sinful and accursed race—utterly unclean and beyond the pale of grace; in order for Israel to possess the Land of Promise the Canaanites must be mercilessly exterminated. Again and again the prophets warned again mixing with them. Yet it says that this woman "came out" to meet Jesus—he certainly would not have gone looking for her—and kept shamelessly begging his help on behalf of her possessed daughter.

In Matthew's gospel Jesus seldom mixes with gentiles—his mission is to the "lost sheep of the House of Israel," he himself puts it. But Jesus admires faith, whether he finds it in Jew or gentile. The centurion who approaches Jesus on behalf of his servant is a gentile, but he obeys the rules. He keeps his distance. And he comes across as a perfect gentleman, a model of courtesy and discretion. Jesus marvels at his manly humility, and remarks that "in no one in Israel [has he] seen such faith" (Matthew 8:5-12). But the Canaanite woman is not polite. She breaks all the rules in the way she approaches Jesus. She ignores the boundaries. He a Jew, she is a "Canaanite"—the worst kind of gentile. He is a man; she is a woman, and in NT times unrelated men and respectable women mixed only under the most socially restricted circumstances. She is "unclean," a source of pollution. By rights she should not approach him at all. The disciples are embarrassed by her desperate cries and want Jesus to send her away. But he says nothing.

His silence is not a test of the woman. Jesus does not play games with people. The problem is the conflict in the man Jesus himself. His aversion for her is deep and instinctive, an aversion based upon centuries of religious and racial prejudice. He has for her that deep instinctive dislike that some people have for cats—foolish, but deeply felt. The good news, however, breaks down those fears and aversions based upon sex, race, and religion. This miracle story is told within the context of Jesus' instructions regarding Jewish dietary laws. What is really unclean? In the course of his teaching he says, "It is not what goes into one's mouth that defiles a person; but what comes out of the mouth that defiles" (15:11). Human beings are more important that religious principles. People become unclean because of what they do, not because of who they are. Now those teachings are being tested by a concrete situation. Now the importunate cries of the Canaanite woman force God's man to overcome his own prejudices and live out the Gospel he teaches.

This woman is an altogether remarkable individual; her boldness on behalf of her daughter is bold and audacious. She has wit and grit and faith in the goodness of God and the ability of his man to cure her daughter. And in her tug of war with Jesus she is triumphant because she is right--The dogs do indeed have a right to crumbs that fall from their master's table. When Jesus laughs and acknowledges his own defeat by healing her daughter, it is the power of the Gospel itself—the good news of God's kingdom--that has overcome his scruples. The miracle he does on her behalf completes his teaching about the things that defile—washing your hands does not put you right with God. Sin defiles us—not other human beings. When it comes to laws and religious principles, people always come first.

Day 282. New Testament Day 5. Matthew 13-15

2011-09-03T06:48:00.001-07:00

Today's reading is chock-a-block full of parables. In Matthew Jesus is presented as the Living Teacher of the Church, and his ordinary method of teaching is by means of these "improving stories." He takes ordinary experiences of first century life in Palestine and transforms them—by nothing short of divine genius--into timeless gems of wisdom. His parables are stories designed to enlighten and change their hearers. Some succeed in that better than others. But when the parables of Jesus are perfect—and they are often perfect—nothing in all of literature approaches them for vividness of expression and spare elegance of form.

In our reading for today there is short but excellent example. It begins—"The kingdom of God is like a treasure hidden in a field. . . ." (Matthew 13:44). It is a story based upon a tragic misfortune and an outrageous windfall of good luck. In telling it perhaps Jesus is thinking of case he knew—or maybe not. But the circumstances he describes would not be unheard of. In a world before safety deposit boxes it was a normal practice for people to bury caches of coins and jewelry for safekeeping in times of uncertainty. Even though they saved their treasures from pillage, they often did not, for whatever reason, return to reclaim them. Often the owners died, and their treasures lay hidden until by chance they might be uncovered by pure accident.

In Jesus' time many—indeed perhaps most—Palestinian farmers were share-croppers, renting land from an absentee landlord for a share of the produce. Clearly that is the situation of the plowman in Jesus' parable; he does not own the land he works and in the normal course of things never would. And then one day he is out plowing as usual when he hears a dull thud, the sound of breaking pottery, and suddenly the furrow is filled with gold. Now his situation presents the modern reader with an ethical dilemma. The field is not his and treasure he finds, in the strictest sense, should be the property of the absentee landlord. But Jesus does not get hung up in this problem—from the point of view of the parable it's "finders keepers, losers weepers." And that is exactly as it should be, because this is not a story about moral scrupulosity but about the spontaneous joy of finding something wonderful and utterly unexpected.

"The kingdom of heaven"—the evangelist Matthew, the pious Jew, carefully avoids carelessly throwing the name of God about—is like that hidden treasure. Its finding is an occasion, not for hesitation and quibbling over its ownership, but for ecstatic joy and immediate action. "In his joy [the lucky sharecropper] goes and sells all that he has and buys that field," Jesus says. He gives up everything—he liquidates his little all--so that he can gain full ownership of the one thing that matters.

Of course, the share-cropper's good luck is preconditioned by the misfortune of others. First, there is the misfortune of the original owner of the treasure, and second, there is the misfortune of the landlord, the rightful owner of the treasure, who is effectively conned out of it. But the parable is not about justice. Some lose and others win. Every human life is touched with misfortune—the gospels never attempt to deny that. In fact, all four evangelists describe in gruesome detail the greatest misfortune the earth has yet known—the horrific and unjust crucifixion of God's man, Jesus Christ. Talk about bad luck!

But our outrageous good luck, the finding of the kingdom of heaven, is preconditioned upon the terrible misfortune that Jesus suffered. We find the kingdom of heaven, something wonderful and life-giving—or rather, it finds us—because Jesus died. And our great good fortune is totally undeserved. And again the parable of the lucky sharecropper parallels our own story. He does not come by his treasure by virtue and special merit—quite the opposite. He stumbles upon it by accident. And he reacts to its finding with a selfishness that borders on avarice. But that's all right. It's that precious. If the treasure were not something altogether precious and desirable, he would not have acted immediately with boldness and sold everything he has to get it. (See Matthew 19:21.) Time and again Jesus tells his followers—Seize of the kingdom of heaven now while you have a chance. Don't quibble over ownership. Don't let anything stand in your way. The treasure you have found is a good that calls for the renunciation of all other goods, and anyone who for any reason hesitates to take hold of it is a want-to-be and not a disciple. (See Matthew 8:18-22.)

Day 281 (New Testament Day 4). Matthew 10-12

2011-09-02T08:10:00.001-07:00

What should our attitude be in the face of hatred and irrational dislike? The reading for today seeks to answer that question in the context of Christian discipleship. In it Jesus tells his followers: "A disciple is not above the teacher. Nor is a slave above the master; it is enough for the disciple to be like the teacher, and the slave like the master. If they have called the master of the house Beelzebul, how much more will they malign those of his household" (Matthew 10:24-15).

As we noted earlier, the Gospel of Matthew is intended as a handbook for Christian discipleship. The words of comfort and command which Jesus speaks to his twelve companions are in fact addressed by the Holy Spirit to the whole Church, and to each of us specifically. This word's for you—and me.

Now some of the Lord's specific instructions do not seem to be addressed to us, and to the modern Christian some of his commands give the impression of being impossible or even absurd. But we have to take into account the situation of Matthew's first century church, a beleaguered Jewish congregation under fierce opposition from the synagogue down the street. The opposition we face is quite different, but the principles Jesus gives for dealing with it apply equally to us.

Matthew's church was involved in a tragic family feud. The Jewish community was divided, and the reason was Jesus. As we all know, these most vicious fights are within families, and this was a hum-dinger. This was a knock-down, drag-out between two factions of the same extended family—the family of Abraham. In our reading for today the risen Lord is quoted as saying—"Do not think that I have come to bring peace on earth; I have not come to bring peace but the sword" (10:34). The Christian gospel is as often the principle of division as it is of unity. Jesus makes a list of the family relationships that will be disrupted by lit.

For those involved, this was a deadly serious matter. In ancient times in both the Jewish and Gentile worlds the position of the family in society was invincible. Loyalty to the family—and to the people or nation as an extended family--transcended all other allegiances. Parents exerted life and death power over their children. Family ties, the bonds created of blood and clan, trumped all others. It is no wonder that Christianity, which called its followers to place their ultimate loyalty not in family, clan, or nation, but to the Lord Jesus—see Matthew 10:37-39--was looked upon as a dangerous and subversive movement by all.

So in the context of this nasty family feud some people on the other side of the fence were saying some bad, bad things about Jesus. The Church called him Lord; their enemies called him Beelzebul, which means literally "the lord of the flies." It was the Jewish name for the prince of demons; it derives from the Canaanite fertility god Baal so roundly condemned by the OT prophets. It means Satan. So the Lord tells his followers; If they call me—"the master of the house"—Satan, you can imagine what they will call you, the members of my household. So don't be surprised, and so far as possible don't let their slander and hateful language get to you. Remember, it is me they hate, Jesus says. I am the reason.

And that is what we need to remember. If you take your call to Christian discipleship at all seriously, someone is going to hate you for it, just as they hated Jesus. In Matthew's gospel he is the Loving Teacher of the Church. He calls upon his students to study his life—what he does and the way he lives--and to seek to be like him. It is neither easy to do that nor impossible. All we can do is try, but trying is enough. "It is enough for the disciple to be like the teacher," the risen Lord says to the Church, "and the slave like the master." The person of Jesus is a life's study, and imitating it is a life's work—a work never finished.

But you will know whenever you have any small success in imitating Jesus because you will arouse the same animosity that he aroused. The Church has always been puzzled by the hatred it inspired, but in our reading the Holy Spirit speaks to assure the perplexed and wounded that this is how it will always be. Haters hate. It is a spiritual law. But the Lord comforts us with the knowledge that it is he and not us who is the target of their animosity. Where there is Christ there is opposition. "You're nobody 'til somebody hates you"--I once heard my Mama remark. She said it sadly, because there was never anyone who so much wanted to be loved as she did. But if you live as a disciple, if you are faithful, your master's enemies will be yours as well. It is a sad situation, but for now that's how it is.

Day 280 (New Testament Day 3). Matthew 8-9

2011-09-01T06:10:00.001-07:00

In our reading for today it says that Jesus goes on his way through "all their cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom, and curing every disease and every sickness" (9:35). First comes the teaching; then come the miracles.

Our reading for today is chock-a-block full of miracles. In the Gospel of Matthew it is a pattern-- first comes the teaching—yesterday we heard the Sermon on the Mount—and now today come the miracles. For the evangelist Jesus' miracles don't just validate his teaching, they are necessary to complete it.

Remember the first words that Jesus speaks in Matthew's Gospel—"Repent, for the Kingdom of God has come near" (4:17). Jesus' miracles—his "mighty acts"--are evidence that God's kingdom is even now breaking into a world bound by disease, decay and death. In Jesus' appearance God's kingdom comes. In Matthew Jesus is presented as the "Great Rabbi," the "New Moses," the "Living Teacher of the Church." His miracles do not validate his identity—He is who He is—instead they describe and foreshadow the kind of existence he promises by his teaching. They illustrate a world where the meek in fact inherit the earth and where those who hunger and thirst for righteousness are indeed satisfied (5:1ff).

The miracles aren't ornamental; they are crucial to an understanding of his message. You can't remove them and have Jesus—that's very important to remember. The Gospel stories are in agreement with such Jewish sources as we have available to us in affirming that Jesus of Nazareth did do miracles—acts of power. The source of that power was sometimes in doubt. His enemies alleged that he utilized the power of Satan in doing them (see Matthew 12:24-37). A belief that natural laws are amenable to the will of God lies at the center of the Biblical world view. It would never have occurred to the Gospel writers and their first readers to doubt that the Creator molds his creation to suit his will, and that the power to create is alive and at work in Jesus.

We modern Christians are uneasy with miracles; we tend to cherry-pick the miraculous stories recorded in the Gospels—some we like and others we tend to ignore. For instance, the healing of the centurion's slave (Matthew 8:5-13) is a particularly appealing miracle, partly because of the remarkable character of the centurion himself. Jesus himself is impressed by this foreign soldier. "In no one in Israel," he remarks, "have I found such faith." He compares this Gentile officer's trust to the cynical hard-heartedness of the "heirs of the kingdom"—Jesus' fellow Jews—and finds them wanting. But it is not just his faith that attracts us. The tender concern of the officer for his slave, who is "paralyzed, in terrible distress," is remarkable in a time when slaves were often treated as mere objects. Though he is a person of importance—the Roman officer in charge of a unit (a century) of foot soldiers—he entreats Jesus' to heal his slave with dignity combined with becoming humility. He shows a remarkable cultural sensitivity; although Jesus is willing to come to his house, the centurion knows that coming under the roof Gentile might well compromise his scruples as an observant Jew, and declines to let him. "Lord, I am not worthy . . . ," he says. Instead he acknowledges the power of Jesus to order the world as he commands his soldiers--"Only speak the word, and my servant will be healed."

This is a very important theme in the Gospel of Matthew--the creative power of the word that made creation is present in Jesus of Nazareth. By a word of power Jesus subdues the chaos of the storm on the Sea of Galilee —he "rebuked the wind and the sea, and there was a dead calm" (8:26). He says "go" to the evil spirits and the demon-ridden Gadarenes, and they go into a herd of swine which drown themselves in the sea (8:32). Jesus says "stand up, take up your bed and go home" to the paralytic, and he does—to the consternation of the scribes (9:6)

And so it goes. A word spoken by Jesus has the power to recreate a ravaged world and ruined lives. Where ever Jesus and his disciples go, miracles follow. But first comes his teaching. It is the primary word of power. The teaching of Jesus establishes what the kingdom of God is, and then his miracles embody it. They make his reign immediate and "real" to us. Through them his kingdom comes. So miracles are not ornamental to the gospel story—they are crucial. If God does not do miracles, he is powerless to establish his kingdom among us and within us.

Day 279 (New Testament Day 2). Matthew 7-9

2011-08-30T17:12:00.001-07:00

In our reading for today Jesus says to his disciples—"You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored" (5:13).

When at the beginning of today's reading Jesus goes up on the mountain and sits down, the evangelist Matthew is deliberately reminding his Jewish Christian readers of Moses going up to the top of Mount Sinai to receive the Law. In Matthew's Gospel Jesus is the New Moses. And he gives his disciples--a New Law. The Old Law came to Moses from God; the New Law comes directly from Jesus himself, who, we are told, astounds his listeners by teaching "them as one having authority, and not as their scribes" (7:29). For Israel the Law of Moses was a handbook for righteous living within the covenant community. It defines life in right relationship to God. For the Church the gathering of remembered sayings we call the Sermon on the Mount represents a handbook for Christian discipleship, an answer in the most practical terms to the question—"What does it mean to follow Jesus?"

It is a question for which each of us needs a clear and personal answer, but not a hard and fast answer. Our answer must change as the circumstances of our lives change. But to follow Jesus means to live as he lived, not to satisfy our selfish ego but for the sake of other people. And our service must be public and unashamed. Jesus warns us against "practicing [our] piety before others in order to be seen by them" (6:1)—against serving in order to draw attention to ourselves. But the risen Lord intends us to be visible disciples. If our lives appear exactly like everyone else's—if we are blandly indistinguishable from the rest of the world—then we are not the salt of the earth. Or rather we are salt that has lost its savor.

Salt really is the perfect metaphor for the Christian life. We taste salt in food only if there is too much of it—or too little. When there is exactly the right amount, all we taste are the enhanced flavors of the food itself. In Christian living balance is ideal. Moderation is the key.

When we over-salt our lives, when we make a spectacle of our service, we reduce our discipleship to an empty show and become all those things Christians are sometimes accused of being—hypocritical, self-righteous, and insincere. But on the other hand if we talk and act and spend like everyone else, if we live our lives in such a way that no one can tell that we are followers of the risen Lord, what's the point, beloved? Our faith is indeed "good for nothing, but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot." What each of us, with the help of the Holy Spirit, needs is to find our equilibrium between the extremes of blandness and an overpowering saltiness .

I remember once driving through Wisconsin and seeing a sign on a roadside restaurant that read—Good Food!—Indian Moccasins!—Wisconsin Cheese!—Home-Made Pie! It was four in the afternoon, and nothing tastes as good as pie and coffee at four o'clock in the afternoon. So I went in and found a place at the counter. The waitress, of hearty Norwegian stock, had mane of blood hair and disarming blue eyes. Her teeth were a little funny, but she was pretty anyway.

She wore pink uniform with her name embroidered on the pocket—Erica. Erica poured me a cup of coffee without asking, like they do in Wisconsin. "What can I get ya' then?" she asked with a bright Wisconsin smile. "Is the pie here really home-made," I asked. "Yah, well, I suppose it was made in someone's home," she said, never letting her smile waver. "I'll have a slice of apple then," I said.

"Come'n right up," said Erica. And in a couple minutes she reappeared with the most beautiful slice of apple pie I had ever seen in my life—chunks of plump, luscious fruit enveloped in a flakey crust that whispered wickedly of real lard. But when I took the first bite I had to shudder and spit. "Miss? Miss? Miss?" "What's wrong?"asked Erica, still sunny and bright as Wisconsin cheddar. "I think someone made this pie with salt instead of sugar," I sputtered. "Yah," said Erica, shaking her pretty head. "I don't doubt it. The food in this place is terrible. I'd never eat here myself." A moment later there was the sound of laughter in the kitchen.

The challenge of Christian discipleship is balance—living our faith openly but without false advertising, having enough salt in us and not too much. "Oh taste and see that the LORD is good," the psalmist says. In the places where we live and work and worship what people should taste in us in not our salt or its lack, but the Lord. Moderation in us allows others taste what is good in him.

Day 278. (New Testament Day 1) Matthew 1-4

2011-08-30T06:04:00.001-07:00

"When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him." Which one of us would have risked so much on the basis of a dream? But Joseph did. His is courage of a rare and particular kind. His faith takes the form of bravery when confronted with real danger and steadfastness in the face of his own doubts and misgivings. He is the reluctant hero of Matthew's nativity story.

The evangelist Matthew is a Jewish Christian who writes his Gospel with the express purpose of proving that Jesus of Nazareth is in fact "the Messiah" (1:1, 1:18), the "anointed one," the true heir of King David, and the fulfillment of Old Testament prophecy. Crucial to that purpose is the man named Joseph, the putative father of Jesus, and the embodiment of faithful Israel. Joseph shines like the star of Bethlehem in our reading for today, and then vanishes utterly from the gospel, never to be heard of again.

We are told right off the bat, that Joseph is "a righteous" man (1:19), meaning that he is an ardent observer of the Law of Moses. (Elsewhere in Matthew's gospel such scrupulous Jews are called "Pharisees." And if Jesus did in fact come from a family of Pharisees that would make sense. He shares many of the beliefs of that sect, although he had no time for their narrowness and self-righteousness.) But Joseph combines moral integrity and strict adherence to the Law with the pre-eminently Christian virtues of mercy, kindness, and humility. From Matthew's point of view Joseph is in every way "a true gent," a worthy "Son of David," a perfect Jew and at the same time a model of Christian discipleship.

When he hears of Mary's "delicate condition" he meditates on his options. There is no point in going forward with the nuptials; divorce—public or private--is the only option. But in the character of Joseph righteousness is balanced with compassion. He rejects the public option because of the shame it would inflict, and goes for Plan B. He has decided to "dismiss her quietly" (1:19), and then he has a dream. (Joseph, like his namesake in the Old Testament, is a dreamer.) In the dream an angel appears to tell him not to "be afraid to take Mary as [his] wife" (1:20), that the child she has conceived is "from the Holy Spirit" (1:20). This would have been puzzling indeed; there is no other instance of a conception without a male agent in Jewish literature. Nevertheless, Joseph did what he was told without fully understanding. He believed the message and acted, and his trust completes that which begins in Mary's womb.

Dreams guide the story. Again, after the visit of the wise men, when wicked King Herod threatens the life of the child, Joseph has another dream, and again he responds with obedience and courage, and he takes the child and his mother to Egypt to hide out. For Matthew, the sojourn in Egypt is deeply significant. In his infancy Jesus reenacts the experience of the children of Israel, going down into Egypt with Joseph. And at Herod's death, Joseph is again prompted by a dream (2:19), and he obediently brings the child out. Matthew makes the best use of the journey down to Egypt and back again to underline his message—in sending Jesus the Messiah, the God of the Old Testament has acted as he did in the Exodus, to bring his people out of slavery into a new freedom. This time liberation comes through the Jewish people, but it is intended for the whole world. They are the instrument through which salvation comes, just as Joseph is the instrument God uses to save the Child of Promise.

The person of Joseph is there to bridge the gap between the Old Testament and the New. He is the personification of obedient Israel, the People of the Promise at their very best—the righteous Jew, the kind husband, the faithful follower. The last thing we are told about him is that together with Mary and the child Jesus, "he made his home in a town called Nazareth" (2:23). And we can assume that he went on taking care of things, obeying orders like a good soldier until he was relieved of his duty.

Joseph does what he is told without a fuss, and then he politely steps back and disappears from the story--but not before he has given us what the evangelist Matthew considers the best possible example of what it means to be a Christian disciple and "a true gent."

Day 277. Malachi

2011-07-23T10:21:00.001-07:00

The prophet Malachi —the name means "The Messenger" and probably refers to his function and is not his real name—lived in a time of religious laxness. The problem begins with the clergy—as usual. The Jerusalem temple had been rebuilt and sacrifices were being offered, but the ritual was lax and the priests were careless and badly trained. As a result, the people had grown indifferent, offering blemished animals for sacrifice and fudging on their tithes. The glorious prophecies of other prophets like Zechariah remained unfulfilled and cynical and irreligious comments were made openly. In this context The Messenger appears to call for the reform of the clergy and to summon the people to recommit themselves to the covenant God made with them.

Malachi begins in the manner of earlier prophets, by laying out God's case before the people. God loves the children of Israel faithfully and steadfastly, but the blessings promised in prophecies of Zechariah have not materialized. Now the people ask--"How have you loved us?" (1:2). Malachi recounts Israel's pre-history to illustrate how loving means choosing. He recalls the story of the twins Jacob (Israel) and Esau. God chose Jacob and rejected Esau. Esau became the ancestor of the Edomites (Genesis 36:1), traditional enemies of Israel. The two peoples remained forever at odds. "I have loved Jacob but I have hated Esau," says the LORD. That choice may seem arbitrary to us, but for Israel it is an expression of grace—God's undeserved favor. The LORD is "angry forever" with Israel's neighbor Edom (1:4); in the end all its efforts to him are futile. They are forever outside the covenant of grace. The LORD may be angry with Israel—and frequently is--but he has chosen and he will therefore always forgive the children of Israel if they repent.

Other earlier prophets had a tendency to dismiss temple worship and its round of sacrifices as superfluous to the people's relationship to the LORD. But Malachi's oracle treats those temple sacrifices with great seriousness as a sign of the people's covenant faithfulness and their neglect as evidence of moral and spiritual decline. A dialogue, like one that might take place in a courtroom trial, is set up. God accuses the temple priests of despising his name (1:6), and they protest—"How have we despised your name?" He then makes his charges specific. They have laid polluted food on his altar (1:7), and offered blind and gimpy animals for sacrifice (1:8). "Try presenting [such sub-standard offerings] to your governor," God challenges them, and see what happens. They treat the Almighty as one who can be duped with shoddy seconds—that is the reason that God is deaf to their prayers. In fact, it would be better for them to "shut the temple doors" and close up shop forever, rather than "kindle fire on [the LORD's] altar in vain" (1:10).

The LORD's name is exulted "among the nations" and "in every place incense is offered in [his] name" (1: 11). Only in Jerusalem is his name treated carelessly. The laxness of his priests has been communicated to their people, who now routinely bring blemished offerings when they have better among their flocks. But the problem is first and foremost the attitude of the priests. If they do not listen and mend their ways, the LORD warns that he "will send the curse on [them] and [he] will curse [their] blessings" (2:2). The work of the temple priests was to bless the sacrifices the people bring. But God says that he will curse the priests themselves and blight their ritual duties. He will "spread dung on [their] faces, and dung on [their] sacrifices" (2:3)—in order to get the proper emphasis of this we might use a modern and less polite word for "dung"—making them loathsome and unclean.

Malachi refers to a covenant God made with the priestly tribe of Levi--a "covenant of life and well-being" (2:5). (This covenant is never made explicit, but Numbers 25:11-13 speaks of the "covenant of peace" the LORD makes with the descendents of Phineas.) The LORD's covenant with the priests—the "covenant of Levi"—was contingent upon their faithful discharge of their priestly duties, which included not only blessing the sacrifices, but also giving "true instruction" and living lives of "integrity and uprightness" (2:6). The priests of Malachi's day have failed to do any of these things; they have "turned aside from the way" and "have corrupted the covenant of Levi" (2:8) with their laxity and unfaithfulness. Therefore the LORD is determined to "abase [the house of Levi] before all the people" (2:9) because they have "shown partiality in [their] instruction."

The house of Judah—the remnant of God's covenant people—have also proved "faithless." The Books of Ezra and Nehemiah, as we recall, are filled with condemnations of intermarriage with foreign women and the apostasy that follows. When Malachi says that Judah "has married the daughter of a foreign god" (2:11), he is probably joining them condemning marriage outside the people of the promise. (After the exile in Babylon the Jews began to think of themselves in racial and not just religious terms. They became a much more closed and exclusive community defined by birth as well as upon covenant relationship with the LORD. Before that any male person could become a member of the community by submitting to circumcision and declaring his willingness to follow the Law of Moses—his spouse and family came with him. Now barriers built upon race and birth were erected. Jesus, by the way, was deeply critical of this development.)

The people, Malachi says, "cover the LORD's altar with tears," but he pays no attention to their prayers and offerings (2:13). And no wonder! Judah has been "faithless" to his "wife by covenant" (2:14)—the covenant the people of Israel made with the LORD at Mount Sinai. God made that covenant—"flesh and spirit are both his" (2:15)—and from it he hopes for "godly off-spring" (2:15)—children who will faithfully keep his covenant, expressed in the Law. Now they are leaving that covenant to marry these daughters of a foreign god. The LORD speaks to the covenant community when he says—"Do not let anyone be faithless to the wife of his youth" –in other words, do not let anyone forsake the community of the covenant to pursue foreign women and the foreign gods they bring with them.

"I hate divorce!" God says emphatically (2:16). The LORD deplores the unfaithfulness that has caused Judah to leave "the wife of his youth" and go after foreign gods. It is because they have been unfaithful to their covenant with the LORD, here pictured as a marriage, that God has hidden his face from his people and will not hear their cries for justice anymore. They "have wearied the LORD with [their] words" (2:17), not because he is unfair or indifferent, as they contend, but because they have abandoned him.

Malachi--The Messenger—foretells the coming of another messenger--the "messenger of the covenant" sent by God "to prepare [his] way" (3:1). (This last portion of Malachi is important to the New Testament stories surrounding the figure of John the Baptist.) This Elijah figure is not identified by name, but he will have as his agenda the purification of the temple worship (3:3), which is Malachi's chief concern.

Fullers' soap is used to bleach stained garments. Intense heat is used to purify precious metals. Malachi's messenger will sit, like "a purifier of silver," and "purify the descendents of Levi"—the temple priests—until they are able to "present offerings to the LORD in righteousness" (3:3). And when his reform is complete the LORD will "suddenly come to his temple," and will again attend to "the offering of Judah and Jerusalem" as he did "in the days of old and as in former years" (3:4).

In that day the LORD himself will take an active role in cleansing society and punishing those who live outside the pale of his Law. They are something of a mixed bag of offenders—sorcerers, adulterers, perjurers, and those "who oppress the hired workers in their wages, the widow and the orphan" (3:5). To "thrust aside the alien" is made equal to lacking fear of the LORD of hosts"; the Old Testament prophets are united in saying that the fear of God demands social justice.

At the same time God remains faithful to his people. Society may be corrupt, and may go from bad to worse, but the LORD does not change and that is reason that people have not been destroyed (3:6). Because of his steadfast love, a remnant will endure, in spite of the failure of the majority to keep his statutes and laws. The LORD keeps his covenant even when his people do not, and he has not abandoned them even when they break his covenant. Instead by his own faithfulness he calls them to repent and return to him.

But the people have strayed so far they don't know the way back; "How shall we return?" they ask (3:7). The prophet Malachi's answer is plain and practical. They should stop trying to rob the LORD and return the "tithes and offerings" that they have been withholding. But if they do that, the LORD's response will be immediate and overwhelming. If the people "bring a full tithe into the storehouse" and thus "put [him] to the test," the LORD promises to "open the windows and heaven for [them] and pour down for you and overflowing blessing" (3:10). Pests—locusts—will be kept at bay, and their vine "will not be barren" and because of their prosperity "all nations will call them, blessed" (3:13).

Some of the people have openly expressed their cynicism and lack of faith. "We count the arrogant happy," they say; "evildoers not only prosper, but when they put God to the test they escape" (3:15). But the Lord is merciful, not indifferent. He keeps a "book of remembrance" in which are written the names of those who "revere" him and think on his name (3:16). A literal book is not meant here, of course, but rather a "permanent record" imprinted in the mind of God. And on the great day when he acts, the LORD will remember those whose names are written in his book and will treat them kindly, like his obedient children, which is indeed what they are. Then those who doubt will clearly see the difference between the righteous and the wicked, which had been lost on them before.

On that great day "all the arrogant and all the evildoers" will be burned up like stubble, leaving "neither root nor branch" (4:1). The wicked shall be obliterated, but "the sun of righteousness shall rise, with healing on its wings" (4:2) for those who are obedient and think on the LORD's name. They will rejoice, "leaping like calves from the stall." These last verses of Malachi combine an apocalyptic vision of the future with a reminder of the covenant God made long ago with his chosen people at Mount Sinai. The prophet calls upon the people to remember "the statutes and ordinances" of the Law and keep them, in order that they may rejoice on the great "day" that is coming.

And God promises to send a messenger of the covenant, "the prophet Elijah before the great and terrible day of the LORD comes" (4:5) to prepare his way. Elijah may seem a strange choice until we remember that according to 2 Kings 2:11 this first of Israel's classic prophets did not die, but was carried away bodily into heaven. Elijah boldly called Israel's corrupt rulers to task, and Elijah, like Moses, had met God on Mount Horeb (Sinai)—see 1 Kings 19:4-18. Who better could the LORD send to herald his coming day of visitation and to call for the reconciliation of generations--the old to the young, the young to the old. Unless that reconciliation takes place the Lord will "strike the land with a curse" (4:6).

In the Gospel of Matthew John the Baptist, whose coming fulfills Malachi's prophecy of the return of Elijah, is a bridge figure between the old covenant established through Moses and the new covenant mediated by Jesus Christ. Matthew and Mark explicitly identify Elijah with John the Baptist, although the message of the returned Elijah in the Gospels is one of personal repentance and remission of sins, not reform of the sacrificial system as in Malachi. Nevertheless in all the Gospels, John the Baptist effects the reconciliation between the old and the new, recalling the prophecies of the Old Testament and pointing to their ultimate fulfillment in Jesus Christ. So the Old Testament ends in anticipation of the New, and even as the sun sets, a new day is dawning.

Day 276. Zechariah 11-14

2011-06-25T06:45:00.001-07:00

Day 276 Zechariah 11-14

The Book of Zechariah ends on a truly apocalyptic note. The destruction accompanying the ultimate triumph of the Lord and his chosen people begins with ecological disaster. The famous cedars of Lebanon, a natural wonder and a primary source of building material for important buildings in the ancient world, will be devoured by fire (11:1) and the "oaks of Bashan" will be felled (11:2). When their habitat is destroyed dangerous wild animals will descend upon the human world—"Listen," the prophet exclaims, "the roar of the lions, for the thickets of the Jordan are destroyed!" (11:3).

The world of human relationships suffers together with the natural world. The LORD commands the prophet to act out a drama to illustrate the woeful state into which society has fallen. He is called upon act out the role of a shepherd--not a caring shepherd—the Good Shepherd--but "the indifferent shepherd of a "flock doomed to slaughter" (11:4)—a selfish hireling. God is about to bring a terrible judgment upon those rich and powerful people—the indifferent shepherds--who oppress the poor and exploit the weak without pity, "who buy them" to "kill them." They care only about realizing a profit. They have gotten away with this callous behavior heretofore, but now the Lord is determined to treat them in the same manner they have treated others.

So the prophet, "on behalf of the sheep merchants," takes the job of callous and uncaring shepherd (11:7), as the Lord has commanded him. He comes to the task armed with two symbolic staffs—one called "Favor" and the other called "Unity." He deposes the other—better--shepherds and adopts the principle of the survival of the fittest—"What is to die, let it die; what is to be destroyed, let it be destroyed; let those that are left devour the flesh of one another" (11:9). Very Darwinian!

The prophet then intentionally breaks the staff called "Favor," symbolizing the annulment of the covenant God has made with "with all the peoples" (11:10). (By now we are used to the symbolic actions performed by Israel's prophets. They serve to communicate the will of God when mere words are insufficient.) Zechariah now asks the "sheep merchants" for the wages of his unfaithful service and is given "thirty pieces of silver" (11:12). This is the price demanded to buy a person out of slavery in Exodus 21:32. Christians are bound to remember this sum as that paid to Judas for his betrayal of Jesus. It is not completely clear from our text whether we are to understand that this is a measly salary or an extravagant one. In either case, the prophet is outraged by "this lordly price" —Is he being ironic here? The LORD commands that the money be thrown in total into the temple treasury (11:13). And then the prophet is commanded to break the staff called "Unity," annulling forever the family ties between Judah and Israel--the northern and southern kingdoms. So the covenant is broken and the unity of the people is finally scattered. The prophet is once more commanded to take up his job as a worthless shepherd, signifying that such a shepherd has already appeared--or soon will. This uncaring leader is, however, cursed and destined for destruction—"May the sword strike his arm and his right eye!" (11:17)—and he will fall as previous unfaithful leaders have.

The oracle that follows looks toward the day when Jerusalem will be "a cup of reeling for all the surrounding people" (12:2)—they will lose their judgment in besieging it, as if they were stoned drunk. In this united act of ill-judgment, they "shall grievously hurt themselves" (12:3). Their war horses—the symbols of military power--shall be terrified and struck with blindness, and their riders maddened (12:4). Seeing their enemies' confusion, the clans of Judah—those Jews living in the Land of Promise but outside Jerusalem--shall acknowledge the LORD as their strength and their protector. The LORD will make these "clans of Judah" a boiling pot and a flaming torch to "devour to the right and to the left all the surrounding peoples," and the holy city of Jerusalem will again be established firmly and "inhabited in its place" (12:6).

The "tents of Judah" and the "clans of Judah" refer to Jews who live in the rural districts outside the city—they will look at Jerusalem and be encouraged by its strength. To these rural people on that day the LORD will "give victory" so that the city of Jerusalem and the "house of David"—the descendents of King David—will not take precedence over them. They will not be overshadowed by the urban center. Nevertheless, on that "day"—the day when those neighboring nations attack them-- the Lord will protect the inhabitants of Jerusalem and strengthen them so that the weakest will be as mighty as King David and the descendents of David will be "like God" or "like gods." (12:8). This does not mean that any human being will or could be divine—this is outside the mindset of the Old Testament prophets—it means that instead the house of David will be given the overwhelming glory and strength attributed to the LORD. But the LORD alone will be the true ruler of the restored nation and the rebuilt city.

This next passage, the mourning over "the one whom they have pierced" (12:10) is a puzzling one. It was used by New Testament writers as a prophecy pointing to the crucified Jesus--especially to the piercing of his side. The events of the crucifixion are explicitly connected to this passage--see John 19:37. But originally it refers to a wounded prophet, perhaps Zechariah himself or some other prophet who has suffered. The mourning of the people for the wounded prophet knows no measure. The mourning families explicitly mentioned include both royal—"the house of David"—and priestly—"the house of Levi"—clans. Women are singled out for their special role as mourners as in funeral rites—see Jeremiah 9:16-25. Clearly the house of David and inhabitants of Jerusalem are guilty of the murder of the prophet (12:10), but the LORD mercifully opens a fountain so that they will be cleansed "from sin and impurity" (13:1). For early Christians this was a clear reference to the death of Jesus and his life-giving blood sacrifice.

"On that day," the day of the LORD's ultimate triumph, the names of the false gods who had been heretofore worshiped in Israel will be "cut off" and the "prophets and the unclean spirit" that have flourished among them shall be finally and completely removed from the land. Here we are talking not about the prophets who authentically speak the word of the LORD—prophets like Zechariah himself-- but those pagan prophets who deceive with false information derived from their own imaginations. Indeed prophecy will fall into such disrepute "on that day" that prophets' own parents will repudiate and "pierce them through" (13:3). The "hairy mantel"--part of the prophetic "uniform" since Elijah (1 Kings 19:13)--will be abandoned. Visions and dreams will be a source of shame rather than a mark of distinction and source of profit (13:5). Pagan prophets were known to cut themselves so that blood flowed as part of their ecstatic rites. But "on that day" prophets will seek to hide the scars of their self-mutilations, claiming that they had gotten them in a knife fight "in the house of [their] friends" (13:6) rather than wounding themselves in the pursuit of prophetic ecstasies.

The faithful shepherd of verse 7—as opposed to the unfaithful shepherd Zechariah impersonates-- suffers through no fault of his own, but for the nation. He is a priest or a king, who, as an "associate," stands next to God. Early Christians saw the expression "strike the shepherd, and the sheep may be scattered" as a prediction of his disciples' abandonment of Jesus. The prophet, however, sees this as part of the necessary purification of God's people, thinning them out by two-thirds, and then refining the remainder "by fire," testing those who remain "as gold is tested, until the remnant is able to say without dissembling, "The LORD is our God" (13:9). Suffering produces authentic faith and obedience.

The Book of Zechariah ends in true apocalyptic style with an account of the "day [that] is coming for the LORD" (14:1), a final war from which God emerges as the overwhelming victor. The city of Jerusalem is not spared in this struggle. The city will be besieged by "all the nations" and taken; its houses will be "looted" and its "women raped" (14:2)--carried off as part of the booty by the victors. Half of its population will likewise be carried away into exile, but "the rest shall not be cut off from the city" (14:2). They will remain to witness the LORD's intervention on their behalf. He will fight against the nations like a divine warrior; his feet, planted on the Mount of Olives, will split the mountain in two, changing the face of the earth for the benefit of his people (14:5). He will alter the weather for their benefit as well; there will be no more "frost or cold" (14:6). There shall be no day and night—the language here is echoed in the Book of Revelation--but only continuous light. The Day of the LORD represents for Zechariah the solution to all earthly problems and a clearly spoken answer to all the vexed questions of good and evil. Many will be lost in the struggle, but good will triumph over evil.

At the center of that triumph is the restored and exulted Jerusalem, out of which "living waters" will constantly flow, half to the eastern sea and half to the western, covering the whole earth and giving life to it (14:8). The LORD will reign over the whole creation—"on that day the LORD will be one and his name one" (14:9)—and unity and single-mindedness will mark the lives of those who worship him. The whole earth will be leveled--there will be no obstruction to the will of God--only the once desolated and leveled city of Jerusalem will be raised "aloft" and exalted. It will "never again shall it be doomed to destruction; Jerusalem shall abide in security" (14:11).

The LORD acts as the guarantor of that security, threatening a frightful plague upon those who "wage war against Jerusalem" (14:12). Even their animals will be inflicted with this plague (14:15). He will create a "great panic" which will cause them to fight against one another and they will be plundered for Jerusalem's enrichment, as the children of Israel plundered Egypt.

Like many of the prophets, Zechariah's message is universalistic—but in a very constrained and limited sense. The neighboring peoples who survive the horrific plague will "have to come" to Jerusalem to celebrate the Feast of Sukkoth each year. Commanded in the Book of Deuteronomy (16:13-17), the festival of Sukkoth—the Feast of Booths--became very important in post-exilic times. It was a seven-day-long celebration of the harvest which also came to commemorate the wilderness wandering of the people and the enthronement of God upon the ark of the covenant (1 Kings 8:1-2). The ark had by Zechariah's time vanished into the mists of history, but the sanctuary in Jerusalem takes its place as the locus of holiness. According to Zechariah in the LORD's coming Day the nations will flock to that sanctuary—not for the sake of piety but because if they don't "there will be no rain upon them" (14:17). This lack of spontaneity does sort of uncut the inclusiveness of his message, but that does not apparently concern the prophet. Egypt, the first oppressor of Israel, is singled out for especially harsh treatment if they do not keep the Feast of Booths (14: 18).

For the prophet, however, what is important is that on that day—the Day of the LORD—holiness will be all-pervasive. Not just the vessels especially set aside for temple sacrifice, but "the bells of the horses" and "every cooking put in Jerusalem and Judah shall be sacred and inscribed 'Holy to the LORD'" (14:20-21). Sacredness will be manifest in every part of life. Every sacrifice made to the LORD will be holy, and every person who eats of them holy. There will no longer "traders in the house of the LORD of hosts on that day" (14:21). Christian readers might connect this with Jesus' cleansing of the temple which all the Gospels record—see John 2:13-17. But here it means that "on that day" there will be no outside and inside, no holy and profane. The street will be as holy as the temple. Everything will be made sacred by the presence of the LORD, fully realized among his people.

Day 275. Zechariah 7-10

2011-06-07T12:55:00.001-07:00

This passage begins with a feature typical of later Jewish life—the priests in "the house of the LORD" to define proper Jewish observance. (This function would later be taken over by learned laymen called "rabbis.")

Apparently during the period of the exile the Jews in Babylon had adopted the custom of fasting during the fifth month to commemorate the fall of Jerusalem and the destruction of the temple in 587 B.C. and the seventh month to recall the later assassination of the governor Gedeliah—see 2 Kings 25:25. A delegation now comes to the temple to inquire whether the abstinences memorializing this double tragedy should continue. The LORD's answer comes to the prophet Zechariah on December 7, of 518 B.C.

His answer is typical of prophetic utterances, exulting the importance of genuine faith and repentance over outward observances. The people's fasting is like their eating and drinking, the prophet tells them—it is for themselves that they fast and not for the LORD (7:6). The discipline of fasting, though good in itself, easily degenerates into hypocrisy when it is practiced without feeling. What God cherishes are the concrete practices of everyday justice and integrity—"Render true judgments," he tells his people: "show kindness and mercy to one another; do not oppress the widow, the orphan, the alien, or the poor; do not devise evil in your hearts against one another" (7:9-10). These are what God commands—not fasts and abstentions. This was the message the former prophets gave them, Zechariah tells the people, a message which Israel ignored—to their great sorrow. That is the reason that the LORD has "scattered them with a whirlwind among all the nations that they had not known" (7:14), and left the Land of Promise desolate.

But in spite of the unfaithfulness of his people, God has remained faithful, and now his "great jealousy" for Zion, his city, has been rekindled (8:1). This jealousy for Zion is coupled not with "great wrath" against the nations that despoiled her, but with determination to see Jerusalem rebuilt. The giving of a new name in the Bible often accompanies a changed purpose or identity. Now Jerusalem will be renamed "faithful" and the mountain of the LORD "holy" (8:3) because henceforth God will dwell there in a special way. The prophet paints a charming picture of domestic tranquility in a restored city—in the future "old men and old women shall again sit in the streets of Jerusalem, each with a staff in hand because of their great age. And the streets of the city shall be full of boys and girls playing in its streets" (8:4-5). It may seem impossible for the "remnant of this people in these days" to imagine this future, but nothing is impossible for the LORD. He is able to gather the Jews from all the far places where they have been scattered, and bring them back to Jerusalem, where he will rule over them "in faithfulness and in righteousness" (8:8).They will be his people and he will be their God.

This word about a glorious and peaceful future comes as encouragement to a vulnerable city that is still largely a ruin. "Let your hand be strong," says the LORD (8:9). Zechariah reiterates this word of support which other prophets—like Haggai—gave the returned exiles when the foundation was laid for the rebuilding of the temple (8:9). Before that foundation was begun there had been no safety and security in the land and discord reigned. But now the LORD has determined to renew his covenant and deal with his people "as in the former days" (8:11). This new order will be reflected in the world of nature; the weather will be benevolent, the rains will come, and the land will flower and prosper. The "remnant of this people" will possess a land blessed with peace and prosperity.

As once the LORD "proposed to bring disaster" upon their ancestors and "did not relent," so now God is about "to do good to Jerusalem and the house of Judah"; therefore the people should "not be afraid" (8:13). Instead they should live lives of integrity in response to the call of God, speaking the truth to each other, rendering justice impartially--which makes for peace in the community-- loving "truth" (819), and cherishing "no false oath" (8:17).

Returning to the original question regarding fasting, through his prophet the LORD commands that the fasts which had heretofore commemorated the fall of Jerusalem and the destruction of the temple should continue to be observed, but not as fasts but as feasts--"seasons of joy and gladness, and cheerful festivals for the house of Judah" (8:19). The people should rejoice because Jerusalem once destroyed will be rebuilt more splendid than before. To that restored Jerusalem the nations shall stream in to "entreat the favor of the LORD" (8:22). Verse 23 is one of the very rare instances where the word "Jew" is used in the Old Testament. Here "Jew" means one who lives in Jerusalem and worships the God of Israel. In the days to come these Jews shall be grasped by non-Jews who wish to "go with" them to worship in the temple, for they "have heard that God is with" the Jews (8:23).

The attitude toward non-Jews in the Old Testament is always ambivalent, however. This next section of Zechariah constitutes what is called an "oracle" or a "word of the LORD" against the nations. It is in fact a condemnation of Israel's traditional enemies in the region—a familiar subject found in the oracles of other prophets like Nahum. It predicts the ultimate triumph of Israel and its God over the nations. One by one they are named and dispatched.

The LORD, the divine warrior, moves first against the powerful and wealthy Phoenician city-state of Tyre; he will "hurl its wealth into the sea, and it shall be devoured by fire" (9:4). The Philistine city-states will fare no better: Ashkelon, Gaza, and Ekron shall be left uninhabited and "a mongrel people shall settle at Ashdod" (9:6). What exactly the ultimate fate of humiliated Philistia will be is unclear. It seems possible that in the future they will be "a remnant for our God"—like one of the tribes of Israel (9:7). And "Ekron shall be like the Jebusites"—their capital city became Jerusalem, the special habitation of the Most High. But in any case the threat they posed to the People of the Promise will be eliminated, and God "will encamp at [his] house as a guard" (9:8), to protect his people and his holy city.

This next portion of Zechariah is echoed in the gospel account of Jesus' triumphant entry into Jerusalem (see Matthew 21:2-7 and John 12:14-15.) The prophet looks forward to the day when the Messiah, the divine king and anointed one, will enter the city "triumphant and victorious." He does not enter the city riding a warhorse—an image of force, pride, and coercion—but "humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey" (9:9)--a mount symbolic of a peaceful king rather than a ruthless conqueror. This Davidic king, whose reign is based upon the LORD's subjugation of Israel's enemies, will himself "command peace to the nations" (9:10) and rule over a greatly extended kingdom. The "River" mentioned in verse 10 is the Euphrates River. The "dominion" of the messianic king is greater than the mighty Persian Empire.

The covenant God makes with his people is sealed with blood—see Exodus 24:8--and blood sacrifices in the temple confirm that covenant. The followers of Jesus, mediating on Old Testament verses like 9:11, saw the shedding of Jesus' blood on the cross as sign of a the new relationship established in Christ between God and all of humankind—see Hebrews 9:11-22. The "prisoners of hope" are those who have nothing left but their trust in the faithfulness of the LORD (9:12). But they will not be disappointed. They will return to their stronghold—Jerusalem—and in the restoration of the city they will receive back double for all they lost in exile.

Greece (9:13) was the sworn enemy of the Persian Empire and a rising power in the ancient world during this period. Even before the conquests of Alexander the Great, the Greeks were menacing the western provinces of the Persian Empire. The LORD—the divine warrior-- promises to use Judah and Ephraim—the name of the long vanished northern kingdom of Israel—and a bow and arrow to fight against this new threat to the peace of Zion (9:13). The Divine Warrior "will sound the trumpet" and march forth to protect his people. The Law of Moses definitively forbids the drinking of blood, human or animal, but in verse 15 the blood mentioned may refer symbolically to the blood gathered from animal sacrifices which is smeared on the four corners of the altar. In other words, the invading Greek army shall be sacrificed to the glory of the warrior God as animals were sacrificed in the temple.

The violence of this imagery may be off-putting to a modern reader, but the point that the text makes is that God, the Shepherd of Israel, is prepared to act definitively to save "the flock of his people" (9:16). Under his protection they will flourish with renewed life; the beauty and strength of their youth will be a reflection of his (9:17).

And it is the LORD who gives renewed life to the whole earth; his restorative grace is symbolized by the "showers of rain" he makes fall upon the thirsty land (10:1). It is futile to seek help or guidance elsewhere. The "teraphim" were household gods that represent powerful deceased ancestors. It is a common practice to pray and sacrifice to them in times of trouble—a practice routinely condemned by the prophets as worse than useless. (See Jeremiah 14:14.) The teraphim give nothing but "utter nonsense" (10:2). Seers, psychics, and false prophets also deceive and "give empty consolation" (10:2). It is because the people lend credence to such as these, the people "suffer for lack of a shepherd."

The "shepherds" against whom the LORD's anger burns hot are the leaders of "the house of Judah," because they do not care for the people as he does (10:3). The indifference of the leaders will be punished, but The LORD promises to make of his people a "proud war horse" (10:3), a "cornerstone," a "tent peg," and a "battle bow"—images of strength and dependability. They shall be victorious in battle because "the LORD is with them" (10:5).

The restoration of Judah and "the house of Joseph"—another name for Israel—shall be complete and lasting—"they shall be as though [the LORD] had not rejected them" (10:6). They shall be as numerous as they were before they were scattered among the nations (10:8-9). In the far countries into which they have been dispersed they will "remember" the LORD, and they will "rear their children and return" to the Land of Promise from all the far-flung places where the People of Israel have been scattered—from Egypt and Assyria and still further abroad.

They will be settled in an enlarged kingdom—an echo of what is going on in Israel today—in the territories of Gilead and Lebanon which were never traditionally part of the Land of Promise (10:10). And in order for this new Exodus to take place, God will do wonders as he did before. He will act marvelously so that they shall "pass through the sea of distress" and "all the depths of the Nile [will be] dried up" before them (10:11). The power of Israel's enemies will be finally and definitively broken, and the people will be made "strong in the LORD" in order that they may "walk in his name" (10:12).

Day 274. Zechariah 1-6

2011-05-24T09:32:00.001-07:00

As we have had occasion to note before—and will again--apocalyptic literature is often intentionally obscure, designed to reveal its meaning to the chosen few but to withhold it from others. It is crisis literature—written in times of stress and persecution, it reflects the fears and uncertainties of the community to which it is addressed. In such times God feels remote and distant. Whereas classic prophetic literature is a dialogue between God and the prophet, the messages of apocalyptic writers like Zechariah is often mediated through angels.

Zechariah is a contemporary and partner of Haggai; both prophets are involved in the rebuilding of Jerusalem, one taking up where the other leaves off. Zechariah's first oracle is dated a month after the delivery of Haggai's last—November, 520 B.C.—and his chief concern, like Haggai's, is the rebuilding of the temple and restoration of Israel's worship.

He begins—quite appropriately—with a few words on prophecy and the many prophets that had been sent to Israel with the same message from the LORD—"Return to me. . .and I will return to you" (1:3). When the people did not heed the prophetic call to repentance, they perished. The prophets also did not live forever. But in time the truth of their message "overtook" the descendents of their original hearers, and they repented and surrendered to the LORD's will (1:6). Now again Israel is being called upon to repent and change the direction of their communal life, so that God can use them to fulfill his ultimate purposes in history.

In the first six chapters of the Book of Zechariah we find eight visions--the first is dated February 15, 519 B.C. This vision richly deserves to be called "surreal"—dream-like. It even takes place in the night and everything about it suggests a dream. Ancient people took dreams very seriously as divine messages and warnings. In this dream-vision the prophet sees a man on a red horse resting in a grove of myrtle trees. There are other riders there as well—more dimly seen through the gloom--on red, sorrel and white horses. This glen is apparently a peaceful place where these heavenly riders habitually pause to rest from their real task—"they are those whom the LORD has sent to patrol the earth" (1:10)—angelic secret agents. The four riders report that presently "the whole earth remains at peace" (1:11). Under the authority of the powerful Persian kings, peace reigns; there is no war. But tranquility does not rule the hearts of the people of God. They are uneasy. God also is dissatisfied with the situation. He has been angry with his people and withheld his mercy from them for "seventy years" (1:12)—in the Bible the symbolic span of punishment and exile. But now God has forgiven their sins and become "jealous for Jerusalem and for Zion," his own chosen possession (1:14). The suffering of God's people is disproportionate to their crimes, and the LORD's anger has shifted from Israel and to "the nations," because when the LORD was "only a little angry," they "made the disaster worse" (1:15). They were vicious and tyrannical. But now God has "returned to Jerusalem with compassion," and he is determined his "house shall be built in it" (1:16). The finished temple will be not only a visible symbol of God's presence among his people, but also a sign that he has not forgotten his eternal covenant with them.

In his second dream-vision Zechariah sees "four horns"; these are symbolic of four dominant world powers (1:18). These are the nations that have in the past "scattered Judah, Israel, and Jerusalem" (1:19). Then the prophet is shown four blacksmiths, and told that they "have come to terrify [these enemy nations], to strike down the horns of the nations that have lifted up their horns against the land of Judah to scatter its people" (1:20). The people of God should be encouraged because their enemies will imminently be clobbered.

In his third dream-vision the prophet is shown a young man with a measuring line—a surveyors cord used to measure off distance. And in answer to the prophet's question, he says he is assigned "to measure Jerusalem" (2:2). But the young man is immediately informed by angels that the restored and glorified Jerusalem shall be of immeasurable size, like a village without walls "because of the multitude of people and animals in it." It cannot be enclosed (2:4). And as for fortifications, the LORD himself will be both "a wall of fire all around it" and "the glory within it" (2:5).

Now there is a pause in the flow of the book. The exiles who remain "with daughter Babylon" are called to "flee from the land of the north" and "escape to Zion" (2:6). Their safety is in peril. God is about to "raise [his] hand" against those who have plundered his people—whoever has touches them "touches the apple of [his] eye" (2:8). So the people of God are urged to depart from those nations—notably Babylon—because they are about to be attacked and to "become plunder for their own slaves" (2:9). But God will dwell in the midst of a restored Jerusalem, and "many nations will join themselves to the LORD in that day." These foreigners shall also be God's chosen people (2:11). After the exile in Babylon among some Jews there was a new emphasis upon the conversion of the Gentiles and the role of a restored Israel as a center to which other nations would be drawn.

In the fourth vision Satan appears as he does in the Book of Job, as the "the accuser" in the divine law court. Here he stands up to accuse the high priest Joshua. He had suffered in exile, and that is the source of the LORD's description of the priest as "a brand plucked from the fire" (3:2). His degradation is also underlined by his "filthy clothes" (3:3). But Satan is prevented from accusing Joshua by the LORD's vindication. Instead the angel orders those standing by to take off the high priest's filthy clothes and cloth him in festal apparel as a sign that his guilt—and the guilt of the people--is taken away. The clean turban and apparel (3:5) are signs that the guilt and punishment associated with exile are over, and a new life has begun.

After the Babylonian exile the high priests of the Jerusalem temple assumed more than ritual importance; through his prophet God assures Joshua that he "shall rule my house and have charge of my courts" (3:7). The prophet, however, also suggests that the LORD intends to "bring my servant the Branch" (3:8). Who this Branch is intended to be is not altogether clear, but here it seems to be Zerubbabel, who is governor of the Persian province of Judea and a descendent of the house of David. The language is very obscure and guarded here, however—and for good reason. This talk of setting up a rival king would be considered treasonous by the Persian king, if he should get wind of it.

Zechariah's prophecy steps back from dangerous ground and returns to the high priest Joshua, upon whose headpiece the LORD proposes to place a stone with seven facets engraved with the seven Hebrew letters spelling the phrase—"Holy to the LORD" (3:9). The restored people will shepherded by a holy priesthood who be able to offer a sacrifice that will remove "the guilt of this land" and its people. And in the future they will live together in peace each "under [his] own vine and fig tree" (3:10).

Again the fifth vision takes place at night. The prophet is awakened from sleep by an angel and sees a golden lamp stand with seven oil lamps like the one which was part of the furniture of the temple. The seven lamps in the golden lamp stand represent the "eyes of the LORD" (4:10) that range over the whole world. The golden lamp stand is surmounted with a golden bowl. On either side of it the prophet sees is an olive tree which pours oil into the bowl through golden pipes. The two olive trees seem to symbolize the two powers in the community—the "anointed ones" (4:14)--the Davidic governor Zerubbabel and the Zadokite high priest Joshua, who "stand by the LORD of the whole earth."

The LORD directly addresses Zerubbabel—one of his "anointed ones"--giving him encouragement and a mandate for the task before him—the rebuilding of the temple; it will be accomplished "not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit" (4:6). The message to Zerubbabel is a very personal one. Some obstacle that stands before him—a "great mountain" –will be leveled and become "a plain" (4:7). "The top stone," perhaps the capstone of the old temple, will be used in laying the foundation of the new one, giving it legitimacy. The works will be surrounded by rejoicing and by acclamations of "Grace, grace to it."

And Zerubbabel , who laid the foundation of the temple, is further assured that he shall complete it. Therefore, he is not to lose heart in the face of obstacles on the "day of small things"--this probably refers to the humble beginnings of the temple. The "plummet" is a leaden plumb bob used by masons to keep a wall straight. Those who were once uncertain and disillusioned will rejoice to see the governor, the LORD's chosen, will keep the project in plumb and on course to the end.

In his sixth dream-vision the prophet sees an enormous flying scroll—33 feet by 15 feet—with writing on both sides. It is a command to live righteously and contains curses directed at anyone who steals or swears falsely. The LORD demands honesty and integrity of the reconstructed community, and he himself will enter the house of anyone who disobeys his commands to and "consume it, both timber and stones" (5:4).

In the seventh dream-vision the prophet sees a basket brought in. When the leaden cover is lifted it reveals a woman crouched inside. An angel informs the prophet-- "This is Wickedness" (5:8)--and thrusts her back into the basket and puts a leaden weight on the top to keep her inside. The woman is probably representative of the female fertility goddesses so common in the ancient Middle East—Astarte, Asherah, Ishtar, and "the queen of heaven" (Jeremiah 44:11-19)—their sensual worship presented a constant temptation to the people of God. But in the reconstructed Israel idolatry has no place, and we are told that the prophet sees "two women" with "wings like a stork" (5:9) who lift basket containing incarnate Wickedness up "between earth and sky." In response to the prophet's question, the angel tells him that the basket is being carried to "the land of Shinar"—another name for Babylon—where a "house"—a temple—is to be built for it. (The goddess Ishtar was indeed one of the patrons of that city.) But Wickedness has no place in the renewed Jerusalem.

In the last of dream-visions Zechariah sees four chariots bursting forth from between two "mountains of bronze" (6:1). In answer to the prophet's question he is told by the angel that "these are four winds of heaven going out, after presenting themselves before the LORD of all the earth" (6:5). Winds from the four points of the compass are represented as the LORD's agents traversing to report what goes on there. For some reason no chariot is sent east—perhaps nothing significant is happening there.

The "north country" (6:8) refers to Babylonia—there is peace in that quarter. The LORD commands that an offering of silver and gold be collected "from the exiles" who have just returned from there to make a crown for the high priest Joshua. He is hailed here as the "Branch" (6:11) because he will "build the temple of the LORD" (6:12). Earlier in Zechariah's prophecy the Branch had been identified with the Davidic governor Zerubbabel (3:8) and for the same reason. But here the high priest is given "royal honor" and placed "upon his throne" to rule (3:13). It seems clear that in Zechariah's vision of the reconstituted Israel the secular and the religious princes will share the title of "Branch" and together rule a theocratic state as equal representatives of the LORD.

Day 273. Haggai

2011-05-07T18:08:00.001-07:00

This short book has only one purpose—to encourage the people and their leaders to start to rebuild the temple. A group of Judean exiles, under the sponsorship of the Persian King Cyrus, had returned to Jerusalem from exile in Babylon. Almost immediately the returned exiles set about rebuilding the city's walls and their own houses and homesteads. Work on the temple, which had been destroyed by the Babylonians in 587 B.C., was delayed for lack of resources and "spirit" for the task. Many considered the community too poor to undertake the project. Others were afraid of the attention the project would draw from hostile neighbors.

Now eighteen years have passed since the return of the first group of exiles and the temple is still a heap of ruins. In response a prophet named Haggai arises to provide the necessary spirit for undertaking the task. In the second year of the Persian King Darius he delivers "the word of the LORD" to Zerubbabel, the governor of the province, and Joshua, the high priest, and through them to the community. Zerubbabel is a royal prince of the house of David, the grandson of King Jehoiachin, but is not himself a king. He is the last of David's descendants to exercise political authority. Joshua, the hereditary high priest is second in command in the province, and a political as well as religious power. High-priestly prestige and authority will continue to grow in the Jewish community during the post-exilic period.

The book of Haggai is composed of four carefully dated prose oracles delivered during the period of a single year—520 B.C.

The first, revealed on August 29, 520 B.C., is a response to certain people—the prophet leaves them unnamed—who are saying that "the time has not yet come to rebuild the LORD's house" (1:2). The oracle is the LORD's answer to these gainsayers. God calls upon the people to consider how they have fared since their return from exile (1:5). The community has not prospered either economically or spiritually—those who "earn wages earn wages to put them into a bag with holes" (1:6). The reason is the lack of a focus for faith and worship.

They have built their own houses, so the LORD bids the leadership of the community to get busy and "build [his] house," so that he can "take pleasure in it and be honored" (1:8). The people have fared ill because they have left God's "house in ruins, while [they] hurry off to build [their] own houses" (1:9). That is the reason that the land, the animals, and human beings now suffer from drought and pestilence. They must build the temple.

And they respond positively. We are told that Haggai, "the messenger of the LORD," delivers this message to the governor and the high priest and "the remnant of the people," and they obeyed. And with the command of God, the prophet conveys this word of encouragement—"I am with you, says the LORD" (1:13). You are not alone. So the LORD "stirred up the spirit" of the governor, the high priest, and "all the remnant of the people" and they worked on the temple (1:14). We are given the date on which the work commences.

The second oracle is dated October 17, 520 B.C., seven weeks after the first. It is addressed to the whole Jerusalem community. Apparently there are some among the returned exiles—very aged people—who remember the temple of Solomon before it was destroyed. In their sight this new temple is "as nothing" (2:3)—a very "hole-in-the-wall" affair—and they are saying as much. Such criticism has damaged the morale of the people as a whole. But on behalf of the LORD the prophet tells all the classes of society, high and low, to take courage and work. The LORD of hosts is with them, "according to the promise that [he] made [them] when [they] came out of Egypt." The LORD will not go back out of his covenant promises; he is always faithful. Furthermore, his "spirit"—his creative will--abides among them. Therefore they should "not fear" (2:5).

True, this temple will be not nearly as magnificent as Solomon's was. But the LORD promises to "shake the heavens and the earth" as he did when he brought Israel out of Egypt. And as the children of Israel plundered Egypt of its gold and silver on their way out—Exodus 3:21-22—so the earth will be spoiled to enrich the house of the LORD. He will "shake all the nations"—shake them down, so to speak—so that their treasures will fill his temple. All the gold and all the silver in the world belong to the LORD anyway—why should he not claim them? He will make his new house "greater than the former" (2:9), and in the place of poverty and depression he will "give prosperity" and joy to Jerusalem.

Haggai issues his third oracle a few months later—on December 18, 520 B.C. Again, it is addressed to the entire community of returned exiles, calling them to work on the new temple and not slacken. In a divine cause and effect relationship, prosperity and security will follow obedience.

Haggai uses an example drawn from the Law of Moses to illustrate this. The Mosaic Law, especially the ritual laws regarding uncleanness and purity, had much greater importance after the Babylonian exile. The meaning of this oracle depends upon an understanding of the laws regarding the communication of sacredness and of ritual impurity. Haggai presents two questions to the priests, whose job it was during this period to interpret the law. (It would later be the task of lay rabbis.) The first question involves whether flesh sacrificed in the temple communicates its sacredness to things it touches. The expert option is no, it does not. The second question regards contact with a dead body—the regulations on this subject are found in Numbers 19:11-13. Does physical contact with a corpse make a person ritually unclean. And the answer is yes.

From this Haggai draws his conclusion: It is the unclean rather than the clean that is contagious, disobedience rather than obedience. Therefore when the people did not work on the temple, acting contrary to God's will, the community did not prosper. Their disobedience contaminated everything—their crops were destroyed by "blight and mildew and hail" (2:17). But since the day they began to build the temple their crops have flourished—since that day the LORD has blessed all that they put their hands to. Obedience to God's will is the source of life and prosperity to the covenant community.

Haggai's fourth oracle is dated the same day as the third, December 18, 520 B.C., but it has quite a different purpose. It is addressed to Zerubbabel alone, not to the people. It may have been delivered as a secret communication, because its message could well be construed as treasonous to the governor's Persian overlords. The LORD tells the governor—in confidence--that he is "about to destroy the strength of the kingdoms and nations" (2:21). Change is in the air. But "on that day" the LORD promises to take Zerubbabel, heir to the house of David, and make him "like a signet ring" (2:23). In ancient times kings and others in authority wore signet rings as a sign of authority. Zerubbabel, David's son, is to be the expression of the LORD's authority on earth. For this role he has been "chosen" by God. This is dangerous stuff, and does seem to encourage the governor to seek a higher office. Perhaps it is not surprising that soon after Haggai delivers his oracles Zerubbabel vanishes from the scene. Perhaps the Persian king got wind of his exulted expectations. In any case, in the Gospel of Matthew (1:12) we find Zerubbabel among the ancestors of our LORD, who as Messiah and Son of David is indeed the expression of God's authority on earth.

Day 272. Zephaniah 1-3

2011-05-05T07:12:00.001-07:00

Zephaniah is another vivid little book of prophecy that moves from despair to hope. We know little its author except that his oracles are addressed to the southern kingdom of Judah—the northern kingdom of Israel had been destroyed-- during the reign of King Josiah (640-609 B.C.). It was written—perhaps a better word would be "revealed"--before Josiah began the celebrated reforms that would make him, together with king Hezekiah, one of the two great saintly heroes of the period of the Divided Kingdom. We are given a little of the prophet's family history. The name of his father—"Cushi" (1:1) or "son of Cush" –is a non-Israelite name and may indicate that he is foreigner, perhaps from ancient Cush—Ethiopia. And the land of Ethiopia appears in the prophet's writing in several interesting contexts, as we shall we.

But the prophet's focus of concern centers upon the tiny kingdom of Judah, and he portrays a nation in trouble--sunk deeply in "violence and fraud" and larded with idolatry. In fact, things have gone so far that God even contemplates undoing creation, utterly sweeping "away everything from the face of the earth" (1:2), as he did in the time of Noah—see Genesis 7:21-23. Only this time the destruction will come by fire and not by water. The particular objects of the LORD's wrath are the "idolatrous priests" (1:4), who practice and teach a syncretism that combines the worship of the God of Israel with the Canaanite fertility god Baal and the "host of heaven"—those astral deities—the moon and the stars--widely worshipped in the ancient Near East, especially in Babylon. The people—both lay and clergy-- do not seek the LORD, and instead bow down and swear equally by Milcom—which is another name for the evil Ammonite god Molech, who routinely demanded child sacrifice of his followers.

Alone and weighted with guilt, Judah now faces the dark and terrible "day of the LORD," which is now at hand (1:7). The LORD has prepared a sacrifice and "consecrated his guests"—this one is by invitation, and only the worthy may appear. But "the officials and the king's sons and all who dress themselves in foreign attire" (1:8) will be excluded. The problem is not so much with their mode of dress, but with the accommodation with alien ideas and pagan deities it implies.

"On that day"—the day of the LORD-- the neighborhoods of Jerusalem—Zephaniah mentions the "Fish Gate, the Second Quarter, the Mortar" --will cry and wail because commerce has ceased. God will search the districts of the city "with lamps," looking for those who say that "the LORD will not do good, nor will he do harm" (1:12), and live out their agnosticism in lives of moral complacency. They will see their hoarded wealth plundered. They will not enjoy the good things they have worked and sacrificed for in the Promised Land; they are doomed to lives of emptiness and frustration as exiles in a strange country (1:13).

Zephaniah sees the day of the LORD approaching quickly and the sound of it "is bitter" (1:14)—it is a day of wrath and anguish, a day of invasion and siege and exile. For people spoiled by luxury and unprepared it will be day of stunned suffering, a day in which the anger of a righteous God will be poured out upon all humanity. Creation is a gift—not a given. The day of the LORD stands as a possibility at every moment. Human history is in constant jeopardy; at any time "the fire of [the LORD's] passion" may break out "and the whole earth . . . be consumed" (1:18). The God who creates can also un-create, and make "a full, a terrible end" of all his works.

Everything is contingent upon the will of God. And in awareness of this, a "shameless nation," under the LORD's judgment, is called upon to "gather" and seek the LORD" before "the day of his wrath." If its people "seek righteousness, seek humility" perhaps the fury to come will pass over them (2:3) and they will be saved. Otherwise Judah will suffer that same fate that awaits their traditional enemies, and Zephaniah gives a laundry list of those. "The word of the LORD is against" the Philistines and Cherethites, Sea Peoples who lived in what is now called the Gaza Strip. They will be utterly decimated (2:4-5) and their empty lands will provide pasture for a restored "house of Judah" (2:7). Moabites and Ammonites likewise, nations that have taunted the people of Israel, shall be treated like Sodom and Gomorrah, their lands will be a poisoned waste forever. Their wealth will be plundered, and their gods shriveled by the furious heat of the LORD's anger (2:10-11).

Ethiopians—the biblical land of Cush--shall also suffer on the day of the LORD, though we are not told exactly why. Judeans during this period seem to have had close relations with that exotic land, which lay to the south of Egypt, and some of them took refuge there in times of danger. Zechariah himself may have had Ethiopian family connections on his father's side (1:1 and 3:10).

Assyria is also in line for destruction. We already know something of the fall of Assyria and its capital of Nineveh from the writings of the prophet Nahum. Zechariah predicts what Nahum celebrates—the day when the LORD will "make Nineveh a desolation" (2:13). This prophecy is fulfilled when the city falls to the Medes and Babylonians in 612 B.C., and the "exultant city that lived secure" (2:15) did indeed become "a lair for wild animals."

But Zephaniah reserves his most elaborate condemnation for the holy city of Jerusalem itself—the "soiled, defiled, oppressing city" (3:1), as the prophet calls it. Unashamed and unreformed, "it has not trusted in the LORD; it has not drawn near to its God" (3:2), but remains unrepentant. "The LORD within it is righteous" (3:5), but everyone else is corrupt. Its officials are predatory; the prophets attached to the temple have proved themselves "reckless, faithless persons" (3:4); its priests tolerate of idolatry and violate the Law of Moses. All are secure in the promise to David that the city will be protected by the LORD.

But God has destroyed other greater cities and mightier nations and made them desolate. Their example should by rights make the citizens of Jerusalem more ready to "accept correction." But these examples have not improved them--in fact its inhabitants seem even "more eager to make all their deeds corrupt" (3:7) than ever.

Again the prophet finds himself in the cosmic courtroom—"wait for me, says the LORD, for the day when I arise as a witness" (3:8). His testimony cannot be controverted and his verdict is already in—only the sentence waits to be carried out. "In the fire of my passion all the earth shall be consumed" (3:8), says the LORD. But this is not the end; from this fire will come a new creation in which the "speech of the peoples" will be changed "to a pure speech," so that they may "call on the name of the LORD and serve him with one accord" (3:9). In this restoration the LORD's "suppliants," his "scattered ones" from the furthest corners of the earth will bring offerings; "from beyond the rivers of Ethiopia" (Cush) they will come to Jerusalem to worship (3:10).

From these suppliants, a new nation shall emerge, "humble and lowly" (3:12) and purged of the "proudly exultant ones." This new Israel shall "no longer be haughty in [the LORD's] holy mountain (3:11). And out of this "remnant" the LORD will fashion a new humanity who shall "utter no lies" and no "deceit" shall "be found in their mouths" (3:13). They shall live in integrity, and the LORD, the Good Shepherd, will pasture and protect them so that "no one shall make them afraid" (3:13).

So in the end the kingdom of God shall be established in history, not beyond it. The wicked shall perish and the righteous shall live in peace in a Promised Land restored and enlarged. So the Book of Zechariah reaches its happy conclusion, not in the Jerusalem that is, but in the Jerusalem to come. There the LORD will take control as "king of Israel," and the city will "fear disaster no more" (3:15). God "the warrior who gives victory" will renew his love of the city and share with it his glory. He will establish justice there, dealing "with all [the people's] oppressors" (3:19), both indigenous and foreign. Those who have been marginalized by custom and religious law will be gathered into a new community, marked by mercy and equality. The LORD will "save the lame and gather the outcast" (3:19), transforming their shame into praise. When the LORD steps in to "restore [the] fortunes" (3:20) of Judah and Jerusalem, those who once were scattered throughout the earth will be brought back to the Promised Land in a new and glorious Exodus, and the LORD will make Israel again "renowned and praised among all the peoples of the earth" (3:20).

Day 271. Habakkuk

2011-04-27T17:58:00.001-07:00

The prophet Habakkuk was active in Judah around 600 B.C. Every time in history has its difficulties and dangers, but that was a particularly sticky moment. The ruthless Assyrian Empire had been destroyed—we recall the jubilant message of the prophet Nahum—but Assyria had been replaced by another threat--the rising power of Babylon. The little kingdom of Judah found itself being squeezed between the two superpowers of the day—Babylon to the north and east and Egypt to the south. Externally, there was the threat of invasion. Internally there was tension in society between the haves and the have-nots.

The prophet sees injustice everywhere. The wicked are prospering while the righteous suffer, and the LORD seems detached and indifferent to all of it. So Habakkuk, about whom we know very little, bursts forth in a tirade which begins with the question: "O LORD, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not listen?"(1:2).

The people's adherence to the Law of Moses "becomes slack" (1:4), and the Law's demand for justice in society is being perverted by greed and self-interest. What is God intending to do about the situation? The LORD replies that he is "rousing the Chaldeans"—another name for Babylon—"that fierce and impetuous nation, who march through the earth to seize dwellings not their own" (1:6) to exact punishment. They are the scourge upon the earth. They scoff at kings and make sport of rulers. They laugh at every fortress, however strong. Nothing withstands them. They are without conscience or piety—"their own might is their god" (1:11). God, it seems, intends to use these ruthless outlaws to punish the injustice of his people.

But Habakkuk is not satisfied with this answer. For one thing, he is outraged that the pure and holy God would not scruple to use a nation so evil to punish his people. "Why do you look on the treacherous," the prophet wants to know, "and are silent when the wicked swallow those more righteous than they?" (1:13). It is the old question—which is as new as today: Is the good God really in control of a world where evil flourishes? Why do the good people suffer and the wicked prosper?

God has made his people "like the fish of the sea," helpless and leaderless (1:14), the prophet complains, and then goes on to enlarge upon his fishing metaphor. The wicked hook the righteous and net them, and then they worship and sacrifice to the nets in which they catch others. Their "portion is lavish" (1:16); they go from triumph to triumph. Clearly the prophet has the ruthless power of Babylon in mind when he asks the question: "Is he to keep on emptying his net and destroying nations without mercy?" (1:17). He must have an answer. Habakkuk says he is prepared to stand as a watchman on the rampart and wait until he gets an answer from the LORD to the double question—Why does evil flourish, and what does God intend to do about it? (2:1).

And the LORD does in fact respond, though not with a direct answer to the "why" question. Instead he tells the prophet to write his "vision" large, so that it can be read by a runner (2:2). (And presumably this is what he has done.) That vision addresses the "end" of history—not the immediate future but the goal toward which things are moving. In the end, wealth will prove treacherous, says the LORD, and "the arrogant [will] not endure" (2:5). But "the righteous live by their faith" (2:4) and that he is faithful to his promises. This verse may be more familiar in its older form—"The just shall live by faith." St. Paul quotes it in Galatians 3:11 and Romans 1:17 to mean that those who hold fast to the promises of God and trust in him to deliver them will be assured and uplifted by the memory of God's steadfast love in the face of an uncertain future. It is faith and not the certainty of cut and dried answers that brings us into a saving relationship with the LORD.

God commands "everyone" to mock the wicked. The lives of "such people" are futile and ultimately empty of meaning. Each taunt begins with the word "alas."

Alas for those who make themselves rich by taking pledges--collateral for loans, essentially. The poor were forced to pawn things—often pieces of clothing—to raise necessary funds. This was a particularly cruel form of economic exploitation, because in a cash-poor society they could easily lose everything they had in that way, even their freedom. The prophet Habakkuk takes direct aim at those who have made themselves rich in this way. Those who pile up meaningless wealth by plundering the poor will in the end be booty for their own creditors. "Because you have plundered many nations," says the LORD, "all that survive of the people shall plunder you" (2:8). In the end there will be a divinely sponsored revolution that will overturn the corrupt economic system that has heretofore benefited only the rich.

Alas for those rich who live in solitary isolation from the suffering of the poor, "setting [their] nest on high to be safe from the reach of harm" (2:9). They will not be safe from judgment, however; indeed "the very stones will cry out from the wall, and the plaster will respond from the woodwork" (2:11).

Alas for those who govern the weak through coercion and violence—the Old Testament mafia, essentially. Their end is coming. They will be swept away and in their place "the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the LORD, as the waters cover the sea" (2:14). And this goes for bootleggers too. Alas for those who deliberately corrupt society with alcohol. Soon it will be their turn to drink the cup of the LORD's wrath.

Finally, alas for those who make and worship images. An idol is useless doll—"a teacher of lies" (2:18). It is dumb and insentient, without knowledge. "It is gold and silver plated"—not even real—"and there is not breath in it at all" (2:19), but "the LORD is in his holy temple." He is the source of all life and meaning—"let all the earth keep silent before him" (2:20).

So the prophet receives his answer—though not to the question he had asked—and he responds with psalm of praise in which he expresses the awestruck wonder he feels when he considers God's mighty works and begs that "in [his] wrath [the LORD may] remember mercy" (3:2). Then in a remarkable passage he describes the appearance of the warrior God who breaks into history to "save [his] people" (3: 13). His power is like a tornado, which seems "ready to devour the poor who were in hiding" (3:14). In the face of such overpowering majesty the prophet describes his own wretched condition—"I hear, and I tremble within; my lips quiver at the sound. Rottenness enters into my bones, and my steps tremble beneath me" (3:16).

But in this state of trepidation he determines to "wait quietly" without asking any more questions and see how God will deal with those who "attack" the righteous. There will be no more "why" questions, just simple faith. Even if things do not immediately get any better and his questions are not answered, Habakkuk determines to "rejoice in the LORD" (3:18) and derive strength from simply knowing that God will act to save his people. He can rise above all else. So the prophet concludes with an outburst of praise—"God, the LORD, is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, and makes me tread upon the heights" (3:19). On that high note the book ends.

Day 270. Nahum

2011-04-26T06:15:00.001-07:00

We are probably blessed that there isn't more of this vengeful little book—what there is enough. The whole of the Book of Nahum is focused upon a single historical event—the fall of Nineveh, the capital of the Assyrian Empire to a coalition of Medes and Babylonians. The year is 612 B.C., and the power structure of the Middle East is changing. Assyria, which has terrified its neighbors for more than a century, has been destroyed, and the prophet Nahum, about whom we know next to nothing, can see in its destruction the work of "a jealous and avenging God" (1:2). In the past he has used Assyria as an instrument of his justice, but now the cruel, pagan empire is the LORD's sworn enemy. Now the ruthless destroyer of nations and peoples is itself being destroyed. The plunderer is being plundered. Justice is being worked out in the forge of history.
We have seen and noted it many times before--that tension between mercy and justice in the character of Israel's God. "The LORD is slow to anger," the prophet Nahum says, meaning that God is forbearing. He does not move quickly to punish, awaiting repentance. That is the essence of his mercy. But at the same time he is "great in power" and not to be underestimated or taken for granted. He "will by no means clear the guilty" (1:3), and now he is settling the score. This is the distillation for Nahum's message. The LORD is "good"; he is always there to protect his people "even in a rushing flood" (1:7). But the LORD is also a hunter of the ruthless and cruel, a destroyer of the wicked, and "he will make a full end of his adversaries, and will pursue his enemies into darkness" (1:8). That he has done to the mighty empire of Assyria, and for Nahum, its fall is a morality tale that points to the fate of all who live by pride and
violence.
In the contest of power with its gods, the LORD has proved himself victorious. The fall of Nineveh is proof that its pagan deities were worthless as protectors—"from the house of the Assyrian gods I will cut off the carved image and the cast image" (1:14), says the LORD. Now the messenger who brings "good tidings" of the fall of Nineveh also announces the LORD's triumph over his enemies. And now his people are free to celebrate their festivals and fulfill their vows without fear "for never again shall the wicked invade [their land] (1:15).
Behind the Book of Nahum is a deep and smoldering anger and the burning need of those who have been savagely misused for satisfaction. So the prophet pictures the LORD, the "shatterer" (2:1), attacking the rich and mighty capital of the Assyrian Empire, which had ravaged the "majesty of Israel" (2:2) and caused such suffering to God's people. With relish he paints a picture of a lavish city in the last stages of siege. Chariots "rush to and fro through the squares . . . like torches" (2:4). Nineveh is like an overflowing pond which has been breached—the people pour out with a rush (2:8). And the invaders rush in, seeking plunder, and find there "no end of treasure" (2:9) to satisfy their desire for plunder. Assyria had been like a pride of lions piling up the bodies of its prey. But now "what [has become] of the lions' den"—the city of Nineveh—the prophet wants to know (2:11). Assyria's king, filled "his caves with
prey, and his dens with torn flesh" (2:12). But the LORD, the hunter, has destroyed the pride that devoured the whole earth—"the sword shall devour you young lions" (2:13), the prophet says with evident satisfaction. Now the haughty words of Assyria's "messengers shall be heard no more" and its armies shall no longer be feared.
The people of both Israel and Judah had suffered terribly at the hands of Assyrians, who were infamous for their cruelty to their enemies. The northern kingdom of Israel had been destroyed utterly by the armies of Assyria and most of its people carried off into exile. Jerusalem had been besieged and barely escaped destruction, and many Judeans met the same fate as their northern cousins and vanished into unknown lands. Now the prophet cannot restrain himself from taunting the fallen lion. He calls Nineveh the "city of bloodshed" (3:1). His words recall the savage cruelty of Assyrian warfare, which intended by its very brutality to intimidate the enemy. The prophet describes the "piles of dead, heaps of corpses" (3:3). But now all that is over. Assyria, the prostitute who "enslaved nations through her debaucheries and peoples through her sorcery" (3:4), is herself enslaved. The LORD has exposed her to the mockery of the whole earth. God
says—"I will throw filth at you and treat you with contempt and make you a spectacle" (3:7)—and the prophet is delighted to join in.
And the taunting continues. Is Nineveh greater that the Egyptian capital city which the Assyrians had conquered and looted, the prophet wants to know. He recalls that that city and its inhabitants were treated by the Assyrians with the utmost cruelty. Infants, which had no value as slaves in the ancient world, were routinely "dashed to pieces" by invading armies (3:10). But now Nineveh will taste the bitterness it so freely doled out to other great cities. It is doomed. Its walls are so unsteady that when they are shaken they will fall like over-ripe figs (3:12). Its people desperately make new bricks to strengthen them—but to no avail (3:14). Its troops have lost their nerve. The gates of the land are open to its foes (3:13). Those who can are fleeing. The prophet compares the merchants, guards, and scribes of Assyria to locusts; now they have flown away, and "no one knows where they have gone" (3:17).
There is positive glee in the description of the helpless city that is not very attractive to a modern reader. But we have to remember that anger comes naturally to those who have been abused. Nahum and his contemporaries see the discomfiture of their enemy as their own deliverance and openly and honestly rejoice. The leaders of Assyria—its "shepherds"—"are asleep." Its people are scattered by invaders "with no one"—no shepherd—"to gather them" (3:18). Assyria has been dealt a mortal blow and all the nations of the world clap their hands with joy because it will never recover its strength. And the Book of Nahum ends with a question that reflects the hatred with which the prophet views the tyrant: "Who has ever escaped your endless cruelty?" (3:19). The unspoken answer is—no one. But now the whole world has—Thanks be to God!—and who can help but rejoice.

Day 269. Micah 5-7

2011-04-23T14:11:00.001-07:00

The face of rising menace of Assyria, and with the city of Jerusalem under siege (5:1), the prophet recalls the promise of God made to the house of David—2 Samuel 7—and predicts that a Davidic king ruler will soon be born in Bethlehem, the shepherd David's home town. This king will deliver—the biblical word is "redeem"—the covenant people from their enemies. This oracle is recalled by both Matthew and Luke when they record that Jesus is born in Bethlehem (Matt. 2:6) and tell us how the infant Jesus is adored by shepherds (Luke 2). Micah emphasizes the Messiah's role as a shepherd who will "stand and feed his flock in the strength of the LORD his God" (5:4). Under his protection they shall no longer live in fear of invasion because of his strength which will reach "to the ends of the earth." He shall not only be "the one of peace" (5:5), also one of strength who will be able to defend his flock if "the Assyrians come into our
land," as a shepherd might defend his flock against wild animals.
Under Davidic rule, "the remnant of Jacob" will be like "dew from the LORD," which falls unbidden and depends upon no mortal (5:7). In battle it will be impossible to withstand them; they will be as irresistible as "a young lion among the flocks of sheep" (5:8-9). But vindication will come at the cost of suffering in the immediate future. The people must learn to put their trust in the LORD rather than in themselves and their own devices. Therefore, "in that day" the LORD will destroy all those things upon which his people depend in preference to putting their faith in him—not only their horses and chariots and fortifications, but also their "sorceries" and "soothsayers," which they consult to predict the future. But in order to destroy their images and uproot the phallic pillars and poles sacred to the pagan fertility gods they worship, the LORD must "destroy [their] towns" (5:14) and uproot their villages, executing
vengeance on all "the nations that did not obey" (5:15)—including Israel.
In chapter 6 we are again transported into the cosmic courtroom where we have been so many times before. The history of the covenant people is seen as a trial. The natural world is called upon to witness to the awesome power of the LORD and to judge in the "controversy" the LORD has "with his people" (6:2). In his own defense the LORD recalls the great acts he did in choosing and delivering Israel from bondage in Egypt. He has made them his own chosen people; now what response to his mercy and grace does the LORD require? Does God ask for lavish and extravagant sacrifices? Does he ask for human sacrifice as the pagan gods do? "Shall I give the firstborn for my transgression?" (6:7), the prophet asks. God does not require ritual acts of sacrifice. Indeed he looks for a holy pattern of thought and action—obedience, in short. The people already know what they should do—they have the Law of Moses. And in accordance with the
Law they are required to "do justice, and . . . love kindness, and . . . walk humbly with [their] God" (6:8). Religious observances do not please God, unless with them the covenant people give an offering of integrity, honesty, and compassion in dealing with other members of their community.
In this their rulers have set a bad example. The kings of the northern kingdom of Israel particularly—"Omri" and the "house of Ahab" (6:16) -- were notorious in their time for their callous exploitation of the poor and their grotesque distortions of justice—see 1 Kings 21. Now the people of both kingdoms "have followed their counsels" and become corrupt in their business practices, tolerating what the LORD cannot endure "wicked scales, and a bag of dishonest weights" (6:11). All of the prophets--including Jesus of Nazareth-- took aim at the wealthy, who exploit the poor and live in callous disregard of their suffering. Speaking to his Israelite contemporaries, Micah tells them that "[their] wealthy are full of violence, [their] inhabitants speak lies" (6:12). Therefore because of the prevailing atmosphere of dishonesty, the land will suffer a diminishing prosperity--a lingering economic recession. Wealth and comfort will depart,
to be replaced with poverty and dissatisfaction.
But even in judgment the prophet Micah is not detached from his people; he includes himself in the message of condemnation he brings. He laments the spiritual want and longing in his own heart which mirrors the emptiness of this people —"there is no first-ripe fruit for which I hunger" (7:1), he says. He hungers and thirsts for righteousness which has departed from the land; "there is no one left who is upright" (7:2), he laments. The officials are corrupt and the powerful distort justice for their own benefit. The best of them is like a "thorn hedge" (7:4), prickly and harsh. In a passage echoed in Jesus prediction in Luke 21:16, he marks the climate of mistrust and the disruption of family relationships which mark the dissolution of society—7:5-6.
In the midst of all this, however, the prophet puts his trust in the faithfulness of the LORD and waits "for the God of [his] salvation" (7:7) to save. With his confession of faith and trust, the mood of the book changes from despair to hope. He will not be overcome by his "enemy"—even when he sits in darkness, "the LORD will be a light for [him]" (7:8). The prophet shares in the guilt of this people and their judgment—"I must bear the indignation of the LORD, because I have sinned against him" (7:9), he says. But his humiliation—and that of his people--will not last forever. He will see his "vindication" against some unnamed female "enemy"—which may be the personified Israel—who has wronged him and then asked derisively—"Where is the LORD your God?" (7: 10) This may be a play on Micah's own name, which means "Who is like the LORD?" But the "enemy"—whether "she" is an individual or the corrupt
nation—"will be trodden down like the mire of the streets" (7:10).
And for Micah and for the faithful remnant of the people the LORD will prove himself an incomparable savior. After uprooting a day of replanting will come. In the midst of a "desolate" earth, restored Israel will flourish, and the scattered exiles "from Assyria and Egypt" shall return to their homeland to be ruled by an ideal king of the house of David. The prophet now addresses the Messiah and summons him to be the "shepherd [of his] people," exhorting him to call forth his flock into "the midst of a garden land" (7:14). His kingdom will include lands—"Bashan and Gilead" on the far side of the Jordan--long since lost to foreign powers. The restoration will be a time of wonders. As in the time of the Exodus, the Messiah, like a new Moses, the liberator, will "show [his people] marvelous things" (7:15). And when they see these "marvelous things," erstwhile enemies will be crushed with fear at what the LORD is doing for his
people (7:17).
The Book of Micah ends with a sort of doxology of praise to the God who alone is glorified for his mercy—"pardoning iniquity" (7:18) and "showing clemency" even to the undeserving. He shows his "faithfulness to Jacob" and his "unswerving loyalty to Abraham" (7:20) by forgiving his people "all their sins" and treading their "iniquities under foot" (7:19), raising them up again and again from death to new life in him.

Day 268. Micah 1-4

2011-04-06T13:50:00.001-07:00

The Book of Micah is a mixture of hope and despair--tempered despair over the future of the northern kingdom of Israel and moderate hope for the southern kingdom of Judah. It was a dangerous time; during the mid-eighth century B.C. both nations were living under the ominous shadow of the rapidly expanding Assyrian empire. Micah was a small town boy, probably a farmer, from the village of Moresheth, twenty-five miles southwest of Jerusalem, and in his oracles he displays a love of the peaceful, agricultural life and presents it as an ideal. Nevertheless, Micah prophesied "the word of the LORD" fearlessly before the royal courts of both Israel and Judah.
The oracles in the Book of Micah set up a rhythm of judgment and encouragement. The first of the judgment oracles is directed against Israel—in the text sometimes called "Jacob," and at other times by the name of Israel's capital city, Samaria. The prophet establishes a courtroom situation in which the LORD is called to be "a witness against" all the peoples of the earth (1:2). He comes out of "his holy temple" to "tread upon the high places of the earth"—God moves out of sacred spaces and breaks into history (1:3). In this case he breaks into history to judge "the sin of the house of Israel" and pronounce its doom. Samaria, its capital, is a hopeless cause. It will be abandoned, "a heap in the open country, a place for planting vineyards" (1:6). "Her wages"--the offerings made to her idols-- "shall be burned with fire"; her images are sacrilegious and abhorrent to the LORD-- "as the wages of a prostitute she
gathered them, and as the wages of a prostitute they shall again be used" (1:7).
As for the cities of Judah, the prophet also laments them "barefoot and naked"—deshabile in Judaism was a traditional sign of grief--making sounds of mourning like the desert animals, "the jackals and the ostriches," because of the destruction that is to come (1:8). Ten towns near Jerusalem are singled out as destined to be destroyed by the invading armies of Assyria as punishment because in them "were found the transgressions of Israel" (1:13). The prophet mentions them by name one by one, and the name of each resembles a Hebrew word of desolation. At one of them—Lachish (1:13)--archeologists have discovered evidence of siege and massive destruction during this period. The inhabitants of Judah are called to lament with the prophet, to "make [themselves] bald and cut off [their] hair for [their] pampered children" (1:16), because the mass deportation that will surely follow an Assyrian invasion.
Why is this calamity coming? It is because the wealthy have plotted to seize the homes of the poor and devised schemes to get control of family property to which they have no claim. When the Assyrians come, however, these land-grubbers will lament, because "the LORD [has altered] the inheritance of [his] people, and takes it away [from them]" (2:4). Now their land will be confiscated from them and parceled out "among [their] captors," and they will even lose their place "in the assembly of the LORD" (2:5).
Such words are unwelcome among the upper classes, and they have tried to silence the prophet. They do not want to hear the preaching of condemnation, proclamation that strips "the robe from the peaceful" (2:8). They would rather hear some tame prophet "uttering empty falsehoods" and going on and on about the dangers of "wine and strong drink," rather than speak the bitter truth to them (2:11).
But Micah's message is never unadulterated bitterness and doom. There is always hope for the remnant of God's people. The LORD, the good shepherd, will "gather the survivors of Israel," from the northern kingdom (2:12). Someday a restored Israel will be led out of captivity by their king, with God "at the head" to guide them (2:13). But that remains somewhere in the future, beyond the suffering that is to come. The nation must be destroyed before any of its people can be saved.
That is because the "heads of Jacob and rulers of the house of Israel" are exploiting those whom they should protect, and "eat the flesh of [God's] people" stewed "like meat in a kettle" (3:3). When trouble comes, and the heads and rulers of the nation call out to the LORD "he will not answer them" (3:4). God will be silent in that day. As for the so-called prophets who "cry 'Peace' when they have something to eat, but declare war against those who put nothing in their mouths," they will be left in silence and darkness "without vision . . . , without revelation" (3:6). They will "be disgraced," and they too will receive "no answer from God" (3:7) when they call to him.
But in the face of opposition, the prophet Micah feels his own spiritual strength and exalts in it. He says--"I am filled with power, with the spirit of the LORD, and with justice and might, to declare to Jacob his transgression and to Israel his sin" (3:8). But as for rulers and chiefs "who abhor justice" (3:9) and the priests who "teach for a price," and the prophets who "give oracles for money" they will perish. They proclaim that "surely the LORD is with us" and put their confidence in his promise to Jerusalem and the House of David, but their false sense of security will be shattered, and Jerusalem will be left "a heap of ruins" and its temple mount "a wooded height" (3:11-12).
But after this scathing outburst, comes another peaceful oracle which reminds us in its phrases and sentiments of the hopeful songs of First Isaiah (see Isaiah 4:1-5). In the time to come, Micah says, "the mountain of the LORD's house" shall be established as the center of the world. The nations will stream to Jerusalem in order to learn the ways of the LORD, for "out of Zion shall go forth instruction and the word the LORD from Jerusalem" (4:2). In that time the peoples of the world shall beat their weapons into agricultural instruments, and the arts of war shall perish and be forgotten (4:3). For Micah the agricultural life is the ideal of peace and prosperity, and so he says that when the kingdom is restored the people of Israel "shall all sit under their own vines and under their own fig trees, and no one shall make them afraid" (4:4).
In Bible times the lame were excluded from the worship of the temple. But "in the days to come" the LORD will gather "those who have been driven away," and he will make of the lame and outcast "the remnant," forming out of the weak and despised, "a strong nation" (4:7). And over this new, inclusive Israel the LORD shall reign "now and forevermore."
In the future the people will have to go into exile in Babylon (4:10). But the LORD intends to "redeem" them—to buy them back—"from the hands of [their] enemies." The nations despise Jerusalem, but they "do not understand [the LORD's] plan" for his people (4:12). He intends to gather them up and take them to his "threshing floor" where he will separate the grain from the chaff. Then he will make Jerusalem--"daughter Zion"—strong—stronger than ever before. He will make her "horn iron" and her "hoofs bronze," and she shall "beat in pieces many peoples" and devote their wealth to the glory of "the LORD of the whole earth" (4:13).

Day 267. Obadiah and Jonah

2011-04-04T12:38:00.001-07:00

Our reading for today comprises not one but two short prophetic books—one by a prophet and the other about a prophet. Obadiah is an angry little book—it comprises a single speech or oracle delivered at a single moment in time by a prophet about whom we know very little. It calls itself a "vision" (verse 1), which the prophet receives from the LORD shortly after the city of Jerusalem has fallen to the Babylonians. But the anger of the book is directed not so much at the Babylonian conquerors, but at the neighboring country of Edom, which has proved itself a proud and cruel neighbor to the people of Judah "on the day of distress." The prophet is so filled with indignation with their behavior because the Edomites are kin to Israel, part of the same Semitic gene bank. The Book of Genesis tells us that Edom's ancestry goes back to Esau, the twin brother of Jacob, who is also called Israel—see Genesis 25:19-34. The ancestral relationship between the two nations makes the callous cruelty of Edom all the more execrable. But God has seen, and his justice is forthcoming, the prophet proclaims. In Bible times the people of Edom—also called in our text "Esau" and "the house of Esau"--inhabited a mountainous area southeast of Judah on the far side of the Dead Sea. It is an inhospitable place, and the prophet says the Edomites live "in the clefts of the rock" and "in the heights" (v. 3), and apparently considered their land impregnable. From their elevated vantage point, they looked down on their more vulnerable neighbors, including Judah, with contempt. The God of Israel, however, is exalted above all nations, and even if the people of Edom "soar aloft like the eagle" (v. 4), the LORD is determined to bring them down. What has happened to Jerusalem will happen to them—and worse. Verses 5-9 are an ironic lament over Edom framed in the past tense, as if the desolation which is surely coming has already happened. "Esau's" closely guarded treasures have been plundered (v.6). His trusted allies have let him down (v.7), and his "confederates" have betrayed his trust. Now he cannot understand why he is left alone, abandoned by all. Teman—mentioned in our text in verse 9—was Edom's capital, and in ancient times the city was legendary for its wisdom. But now "understanding" has been destroyed in "Mount Esau" (v.8). Soon the "warriors" of Teman "shall be scattered," and the people who were so smug and secure in their pride "will be cut off" (v. 9). And why? Because of "the slaughter and violence [they have done to their] brother Jacob" (v. 10). When the city of Jerusalem was taken the Edomites "gloated over [their] brother" (v. 12) and rejoiced in the downfall of Israel. The LORD is outraged because they "looted his goods" (v. 13), and even worse, because they "cut off the escape of his fugitives" and "handed over his survivors" to the captors (v.14). Because of this, the inhuman cruelty of their actions shall be turned against them, and their "deeds shall return on [their] own head" (v. 15). The bitterness that Judah has "drunk" on the LORD's holy mountain"—Jerusalem--"shall all the nations around [them] drink" (v. 16). But Obediah ends on a hopeful note. God is faithful, and on "Mount Zion" a remnant shall escape destruction. That remnant "shall be holy"—set apart by God-- and the remnant of Israel in turn will eventually dispossess "those who [have] dispossessed them" (v. 17). This includes, first and foremost, the "house of Esau" which shall be kindled and consumed like stubble by the fire of "the house of Jacob," and Edom shall be left without survivor (v. 18). The lands of the surrounding peoples shall be annexed into a restored Israel. Even those tribes belonging to the northern kingdom who were carried off by the Assyrians in 722 B.C. shall miraculously return from "Halah," a place in Assyria where they were taken as exiles. They shall come back and take possession of the land of Phoenicia (v. 20). So in the end justice shall be done. The chosen people shall be vindicated, and "those who have been saved" shall "rule Mount Esau," as agents and deputies of the LORD (v. 21). The book of Jonah is really more of a fanciful short story than a prophetic oracle. It too is a little book, but the influence of its symbolism has been enormous in both Judaism and Christianity, far out of proportion to its size--see Matthew 12:38-40. The story is too familiar to need much repeating—but thoroughly charming. Jonah is commanded to go and preach repentance to Nineveh, capital of the great Assyrian empire. God has decided to offer the city mercy, instead of the judgment it so richly deserves. Nineveh was a city whose very name is synonymous with wickedness and cruelty in the Bible. It was, we remember, responsible for the destruction of the northern kingdom of Israel and for untold suffering throughout the ancient Near East. Jonah is only too well aware of this, and he wants Nineveh to remain unrepentant and perish, as it should. So in order to escape his calling he takes ship for Tarshish, in modern Spain, a place important in ancient times for the tin necessary for the making of bronze and as remote as could be from Nineveh. Jonah is a caricature of the snobbery and prejudice of post-exilic Judaism, the period of Ezra and Nehemiah. It is a book filled with gentle mockery and broad humor. Jonah would rather undertake a long and perilous sea-voyage to Tarshish, than share the God of Israel with the unclean and godless people of Nineveh. Some within Judaism would do anything to resist God's purpose for the Jews, to bring salvation to the world. So Jonah takes ship in Joppa (1:3).And soon thereafter a terrible storm arises—in the tiny trading vessels of ancient times that must have been a harrowing experience. The danger becomes so great that the sailors throw the cargo overboard. Jonah, however, oblivious to the peril, had "gone down to the hold of the ship and had laid down, and was fast asleep" (1:6). And Christian readers will be reminded of how Jesus slept in the storm on the Sea of Galilee--see Mark 4:38. The ancient world was essentially polytheistic—the sailors call on their many gods, and the captain wakes Jonah to call upon on his God too (1:6), unaware that it is the LORD who has "hurled a great wind upon the sea" (1:4), We have noted elsewhere that the ancients often used lots to seek divine guidance in making decisions. The sailors cast lots (1:7) to determine who "the Jonah,'' the unlucky influence is among them, and the result is predictable. They question the prophet, and he reveals that he is "a Hebrew," a worshiper of the One God. Now they are truly afraid and want to know—"What is this that you have done!" (1:10). One of the elegant ironies of the story is that these pagan sailors are so much more admirable that God's reluctant prophet. They "row hard to bring the boat back to the land." Only when that proves hopeless, do they reluctantly and with a prayer for forgiveness do what Jonah told them and cast him into the sea" (1:14). Then, just as in the story of Jesus and the calming the storm, "the sea [ceases] from its raging" (1:15), and like the disciples in the boat, the sailors "[fear] the LORD even more." But Jonah does not perish—as the youngest child knows. The gracious providence of the LORD is one of the themes of the book. God provides "a large fish to swallow" him (1:17). Fish are part of the elaborate symbolism of the story. Fish, because of their cold-bloodedness, are a symbol of life in death. Jonah dies. Jesus dies. Jonah is buried in the belly of the fish. Jesus is buried in the tomb. Jonah waits "three days and three nights" for his resurrection (1:17), but in the end life overcomes the powers of death. And while he is there in the belly of the fish with nothing else to do, Jonah composes a psalm of thanksgiving for his deliverance from "Sheol," the place of the dead (2:1). The experience of drowning is beautifully evoked—"weeds were wrapped around my head at the roots of the mountains" (2:5), the prophet sings—and yet he does not drown. Instead he lives to praise the LORD who has "brought up [his] life from the Pit" (2:6). Finally after three days the LORD speaks to the fish, and it vomits Jonah "upon the dry land" (2:10). Now again the LORD commands Jonah to go to Nineveh, and he knows better than to refuse. The city that is described as so exceedingly large that it takes "three days to walk across" (3:3)—an exaggeration, perhaps, but necessary to a story filled with exaggerations. Jonah delivers his prophetic message—repent or in forty days Nineveh shall be destroyed—and his warning meets with more success that most prophetic preaching in the Old Testament. The whole city and its king "[turn] from their evil ways" and do penitence in sackcloth and ashes. So when the LORD sees it he changes "his mind about the calamity that he had said he would bring upon them" (3:10). The essential humanity of the God of Israel is emphasized throughout the Old Testament by the fact that under the influence of changed circumstances, God can change his mind. The God of Israel is not blind fate—he is a companion in our destiny. Now it is Jonah's turn to be angry—angry "enough to die" because he knew all the time "that [the LORD] is a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and ready to relent from punishing" (4:2). He is furious because the LORD has spared and not destroyed Nineveh, as the wicked inhabitants of that wicked city deserved. Human beings are always more vengeful than God is. So Jonah went out of the city to pout. There the LORD finds him, sitting in the sun, wishing to die. But just as God had provided a fish to save him from the sea, so now God "[appoints] a bush, and [makes] it come up over Jonah" (4:6). The bush may in fact have been a bean plant, but in any case Jonah was happy about it. That is, until "God [appoints] a worm that [attacks] the bush, so that it [withers]" (4:7). So the angry prophet is back where he started, sitting in the scorching sun, asking that he might die—the image is intentionally ridiculous. There God comes to him in his misery, as he came to Job, to ask him what business he has to be angry. The bush was a transitory thing, it appeared and it vanished. Its dying is no tragedy, except to the self-centered prophet. For God the object of concern is Nineveh, lost and condemned to destruction—"a great city," as the LORD points out, "in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand persons who do not know their right hand from the left, and also many animals" (4:11). Even the animals are precious to God, who as their creator has made himself responsible for them. This represents the highest evolution of religious consciousness in the Old Testament—the realization that the love and mercy of God is not limited to Israel, it is extended to all of humankind. And it is not even limited to humankind; it also extends to the animals. So the funny story of the reluctant prophet ends with the announcement that God's mercy extends in ever widening circles to all creation.

Day 266. Amos 7-9

2011-03-31T08:16:00.001-07:00

Our reading for today comprises a series of visions which are intended to warn the people of the northern kingdom of Israel of the deadly jeopardy in which they stand and compel repentance before it is too late. Does the prophet really expect repentance? That is a question we cannot answer. To be a prophet of the LORD means to speak and act as if reform were always a possibility; hope is the horizon of all biblical prophecy.
The first vision, the locust plague (7:1-3), envisions an infestation similar to that described in Joel 1-2. If the LORD were to send the locusts his judgment would be just, considering the sins of "Jacob," but the prophet begs for mercy and the LORD relents—this time. The second vision, the rain of cosmic fire (7:4-6), is similar to the story of the destruction of Sodom in Genesis 19:24ff. Again the prophet appeals for mercy on the basis, not of Israel's goodness, but of God's faithfulness to his covenant, and again the LORD relents. The third sign, the vision of "the LORD was standing beside a wall built with a plumb line, with a plumb line in his hand" (7:7), speaks to the moral condition of the people. A carpenter or a mason would understand the message—Israel is "out of plumb"—unfaithful to the covenant they have made with the LORD, and he will no longer "pass them by"—overlook their glaring transgressions and postpone
his judgment. The verdict is in—the northern kingdom is guilty as charged. Amos foretells that the "sanctuaries of Israel shall be laid waste." and the Lord will "rise against the house of Jeroboam"—Israel's current king—"with a sword" (7:9) to destroy it..
This strikes too close to the seat of power, and now the prophecies of Amos come to the attention of one Amaziah, the priest of the most important of these "sanctuaries of Israel," the royal cult center of Bethel. Amaziah goes to King Jeroboam with the accusation that the Judean prophet is conspiring against him there in his royal sanctuary, the "temple of the kingdom." The priest then tells Amos to go back home—to Judah—and "earn bread there and prophesy" (7:12)—in other words, he tells him to mind his own business. Amaziah assumes that Amos is a professional prophet attached to the Jerusalem temple—an understandable assumption—but Amos answers with one of the small bits of biographical information found in the book—"I am no prophet, nor am I a prophet's son" (7:14). In Bible times prophets lived and traveled in schools or fraternities for mutual protection, support, and encouragement. Usually these prophetic bands would
have a leader—a sort of father-superior—and were attached to a shrine or cultic center. But Amos protests that he does not belong to one of these of these prophetic fraternities. He is instead a layman—"a herdsman, and a dresser of sycamore trees" (7:14). Although Amos is clearly more than just that, he makes it clear that he was taken "from following the flock" by the LORD, and implies that his authority is based solely upon the direct call he has received from the LORD to prophesy to Israel (7:16). But Amaziah's disrespect for the LORD's messenger will not go unpunished. The priest of Bethel, like the sanctuary in which he serves, is cursed. His wife will be debauched, his children slaughtered, his land divided, and he himself "will die in an unclean land, and Israel shall surely go into exile from its land" (7:17). His personal tragedy becomes the unlucky sign of Israel's fate.
The next vision, the " basket of summer fruit" (8:1), seems pleasant enough on the surface, but here it is used to represent the end of the kingdom of Israel. The combination of the words "end" (8:2) and "fruit" are a word play on the phrase "eternal winter." That is indeed what the prophet foresees—and eternal winter in which silence, despair, and death shall replace "the songs of the temple" (8:3).
For the prophets of Israel—and this is especially true of Amos--social justice is the value by which all other values are measured. If there is no honesty in business—if weights and measures—"the ephah" (8:5)—are corrupted, and the value of the money—"the shekel"—is manipulated so the poor are defrauded, there is no fidelity to the God of the covenant. Money is the worst of all idols, and greed is its worship. A jealous God cannot overlook the idolatry represented by "sharp" business practice. Cheating the poor is expressly forbidden by the Law of Moses—see Exodus 20:15—and will not be overlooked by the LORD who sees all and forgets nothing (8:7). The land of Israel, like the Nile River, shall rise, "be tossed about and sink again" (8:8) into the chaos of pre-creation. On that day LORD will in fact undo his creation. On the day of the LORD darkness will overwhelm the light, and "the sun will go down at noon." It will
be a time of despair, a day that will be "like the mourning for an only son" (8:10). It will be the death of hope. It will be a day of famine, but in that day the people will be hunger and thirst not for bread and water, "but for hearing the words of the Lord" (8:11). The silence of God will be worse than any privation. People shall "run to and fro, seeking the word of the LORD, but they shall not find it" (8:12). Part of the worship of pagan gods of fertility like "Ashimah of Samaria" (8:14) was a desperate ritual search, and then a celebration of the finding of the god, representing the coming of spring. In this case, however, the LORD will not be found and eternal winter will reign.
Now in the last of Amos' visions we are in the shrine at Bethel. There the prophet sees the LORD "standing beside the altar" (9:1). He commands that the capitals be struck repeatedly until the building is shattered "on the heads of all the people." The scene is reminiscent of the story of Samson pulling down the pagan temple upon the heads of the Philistines—see Judges 16:23ff. The people of Israel will be destroyed—nothing in the universe can save them from God's anger. They flee to the height of Mount Carmel, but he will "search them out and take them" (9:3). They may descend to the bottom of the sea, but he will "command the sea-serpent"—the primeval monster he himself made—"and it will bite them" (9:3). Though they go into captivity in a distant land, he will pursue them there "for hard and not for good" (9:4). His control over the earth is absolute, and everything in it rises and falls at his command, like the
mysterious rising and falling of the Nile in Egypt (9:5). The movements of peoples are directed by the LORD—he brought the Israelites from Egypt, the Philistines from "Camphor"—the Aegean islands—the Arameans from Kir—northeastern Mesopotamia. He moves them like pieces on a game-board.
Yet in the future there is a far distant hope. The LORD will destroy the "sinful kingdom" of Israel—but he will stop short of utterly destroying the house of Jacob (9:8). Instead he will shake it "as one shakes a sieve"; no pebble "shall fall to the ground" (9:9)—only the sand. The complacent sinners of Israel shall "die by the sword"; the righteous remnant shall be preserved.
The last portion of Amos (9:11-15), which affirms the LORD's promise to Judah and the house of David, is like nothing else in the book. It may come not from the prophet Amos at all, but from another visionary writing during Judah's exile in Babylon. Its message is very like that of Isaiah—God is faithful, and he shall bring the remnant of Judah back from captivity and restore the Davidic monarchy. The restoration will be a time of fantastic prosperity when "the one who plows will overtake the one who reaps" (9:13). Farmers will not be able to keep up with the fertility of the earth. The ruined cities will be rebuilt, and the uprooted vineyards will be replanted. The People of the Promise will also be replanted, and "they shall never again be plucked up out of the land that the [LORD has] given them" (9:15)

Day 265. Amos 4-6

2011-03-29T06:24:00.001-07:00

Like all of the prophets—and more than most—Amos detests the indolent rich, and the book that bears his name is filled with outrage against their callous indifference to the suffering of the poor. Bashan (4:1) is a region in northern trans-Jordan east of Galilee; it was famous in Bible times for its rich pastures and its sleek herds. The rather uncomplimentary term "cows of Bashan" refers to those upper-class women of Israel who lie around all afternoon, calling out to their husbands for cocktails (4:1). They "oppress the poor" in order to support their luxurious life-style and for that reason, the prophet says, they will be dragged off into slavery using cruel hooks inserted through their lips (4:2). "Bethel" and "Gilgal" mentioned in the text (4:4) are the royal cult centers of the northern kingdom of Israel; these shrines were in competition with legitimate worship of the temple in Jerusalem and were therefore regularly condemned
by the prophets. Here Amos rails sarcastically against the hypocrisy of those who worship piously in these shrines, all the while living corrupt and unjust lives (4:4-5).
Through a series of disasters the LORD has given Israel clear warnings about the terrible judgment to come. But in spite of famine—Amos uses the vivid term "cleanness of teeth" (4:5)--the people do not return to the LORD. There has also been a drought (4:7-8), blighted crops (4:9), pestilence "after the manner of [the plagues] of Egypt (4:10), fire and earthquake such as happened "when God overthrew Sodom and Gomorrah" (4:11), but none of those plagues has caused Israel to repent and return to the Lord. And because there is no repentance and no attempt to reform her abuses, "maiden Israel" must fall and "no more rise" (5:1). Her armies will be decimated (5:3).
The LORD says to the house of Israel, "Seek me and live"--but they should not seek him in the northern sanctuaries at Bethel, Gilgal, and Beer-sheba, which their kings have established to compete with the Jerusalem temple. He will not hear the prayers or heed the sacrifices offered in those shrines, which are doomed to "come to nothing" (5:4-5). The anger of the LORD against Israel is like a consuming fire because the "house of Joseph"—another name of the northern kingdom—has turned "justice into wormwood"—a bushy herb synonymous in the Bible with bitterness and woe. Justice should be sweet, but when it is perverted by the selfishness and greed of the rich and powerful it turns sour and harsh. Those who pervert justice think that God has not see them, but the one who made the constellations of Pleiades and Orion, knows what is going on in the human world, and he "makes destruction flash out against the strong" (5:9).
Humankind cannot stand very much truth, and for that reason the powerful hate the prophet—"the one who reproves in the gate" (5:10)—and place no value upon his words. All they care about is wealth and power. But their "houses of hewn stone" and their "pleasant vineyards" will give them no security; without justice for the poor the nation is doomed. The prophet is constrained to speak out against oppression, but there is hardly any point any point in doing so—"the prudent will keep silent in such a time," Amos says, "for it is an evil time" (5:13).
His words may do no good, but Amos recognizes that a righteous person must always speak and act as if it were not too late. So he continues to call upon Israel to demonstrate the personal integrity and civic virtue which God demands of his people. "Hate evil and love good, and establish justice in the gate" (5:15), the prophet exhorts the people—this alone will restore their relationship to the Lord and cause him to turn and "be gracious to the remnant of Joseph" (5:15). Otherwise, there will be nothing left but mourning and lamentation in the land, for the LORD "will pass through the midst" of them, on his way out of town (5:17).
Apparently some pious souls in Israel were longing for "the day of the LORD," probably in the vain hope that "the day" would bring victory to Israel over its enemies. But the prophet ridicules their expectations and tells them frankly that the day of the LORD will be "darkness, not light" (5:15). The breaking of God into history will be a moment of crisis and danger--an occasion for gloom and terror rather than rejoicing. The day of the LORD will be a day of judgment for the unjust and idolatrous. They may offer their sacrifices and offerings for their sins, but God "will not look upon" them (5:22). They may offer psalms of praise, but he does not want to hear "the noise of [their] songs" (5:23), not as long as the poor and helpless are being oppressed. Empty rituals do not please God, and liturgies do not establish a relationship to him. Instead, as the prophet proclaims in one of the most beautiful verses in all of
scripture—"Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream" (5:24).
For Israel "the day of the LORD" will be a day of defeat and exile, a day when the people will pick up the images their false gods, which they have made for themselves, and go off into exile "beyond Damascus"—which is indeed is exactly what they would do about forty years after Amos predicted it. Their sense of security is based upon a lie. "Alas," cried the prophet, for those who take it easy in Jerusalem and for those who "feel secure on Mount Samaria"—he condemns both kingdoms for their self-assurance and complacency (6:1). And he invites them to look at the kingdoms round-about that have already been reduced to oblivion and ask themselves—Are we better than they were? By postponing the "the evil day" into the distant future, they only succeed in bringing it closer (6:3).
Now Amos returns to one of his favorite themes—the callousness of the rich. He is outraged by the opulence of the Israelite nouveau riches—"who lie on beds of ivory" (6:4). But it is not their bad taste he deplores, but their heartless exploitation of the poor. "They will be the first to go into exile," he foretells. After the cocktails and the laughter, there will be only silence.
Amos dramatizes the terrors to come with overwhelming vividness. Plague will follow military defeat. He imagines a single survivor left in a house filled with the dead. A relative comes to burn the corpses in order to stop the plague and calls out—"Is anyone else with you?" And the lone survivor replies, "No." Then the relative outside begs the one left within not to mention the "name of the LORD" lest his anger break out again and something worse happen (6:9-10). Houses, great and small alike, shall be destroyed because the people who lived in them "have turned justice into wormwood" (6:12). The little kingdom of Israel glories in its modest conquests—the neighboring cities of Lo-debar and Karnaim—and puffs itself up with inflated self-importance. But even now, as the prophet speaks, God is preparing a mighty enemy—Assyria—who will tyrannize Israel from its northern—Lebohamath—to its southern border—Wadi Arabah—and
swallow up its self-confidence in an overwhelming defeat.

Day 264. Amos 1-3

2011-03-25T16:19:00.001-07:00

Amos is one of the earliest of Israel's prophets—he was active in the eighth century before Christ—yet his oracles have every right to be called "classic." All the great prophetic themes are present in them, and they are written with great elegance and clarity in what I am told is some of the best Hebrew in the Bible. Yet the author of this highly literate little book does not make any pretensions to learning. We are told that Amos was "among the shepherds of Tekoa" (1:1) before, during, and probably after his short prophetic career at Bethel. Tekoa was a village in the kingdom of Judah, south of Jerusalem; Bethel was the royal sanctuary of the northern kingdom of Israel. Amos journeyed there to denounce the same corrupt religious practices as First Isaiah, who was his contemporary. His prophecies were given during the reign of King Uzziah of Judah (783-742 B.C.) and King Jeroboam II of Israel (786-746 B.C.). The "earthquake" mentioned
in 1:1 took place in 760 B.C., and one of its aftershocks may have occasioned the vision so vividly described Isaiah in 6:1-8.
The division between Judah and Israel was a strictly artificial, political one. The two nations were essentially identical in their ethnic and religious background. So it is not so strange that Amos, a southerner, should rage against the northern kingdom for turning its back of the "right" worship of the temple and embracing a syncretistic mixture of Yahweh worship with paganism. The LORD is the God of both Israel and Judah, and he is "jealous" for his people. He "roars" from Zion, the place of the temple and the throne of the Davidic monarchy, against Israel's neighbors who have one way or another harmed his people. Amos first lashes out against Aram and its capital of Damascus (1:3) for its inhuman treatment of the Israelite town of Gilead. Its transgressions cannot to be forgiven and must be punished. The agent of that punishment, though never named, is the expanding empire of Assyria. The Assyrians will carry off "the people of Aram
. . . into Kir," in eastern Mesopotamia (1:5), and they will vanish.
Then Amos turns to Israel's ancient enemies the Philistines; they have also committed unforgiveable sins in taking "entire communities" of Israelites captive and selling them as slaves to Edom (1:6). The major Philistine city-states—Gaza, Ashdod, Askelon, and Ekron-- will be besieged and taken by Assyria, and "the remnant of the Philistines shall perish" (1:8).
Next the Phoenician city-state of Tyre is condemned, and for much the same reason—it has sold whole Israelite communities as slaves to work the copper mines of Edom and has ignored its covenant obligations going back to the time of David and Solomon (1:9). (This covenant is mentioned in I Kings 7:14). And it will come as no surprise that Edom is likewise condemned in the strongest possible terms. Descendents of Jacob's twin brother Esau (see Genesis 36:1-14), Edom "pursued his brother [Israel] with the sword and cast off all pity" (1:11), and still keeps "his wrath forever." So its strongholds will be taken and destroyed.
The Ammonites were also distant cousins of Israel (see Genesis 19), but they committed atrocities against Israelite civilians while seeking to enlarge their territory (1:13). For this reason the Assyrians will also break upon them "with a storm [on] the day of the whirlwind" (1:14). Their king and his officials will trudge away into exile with all the rest of Israel's enemies (1:15). The Moabites were also kin of Israel, and also estranged from the time of the conquest of the Promised Land. Their crimes climax in their disrespect for the dead—they "burned to lime the bones of the king of Edom" (2:1), we are told. Why this was done we are not told, but the LORD promises "to set a fire on Moab." It will "die amid uproar" (2:2), and its king and his officials will be butchered by the Assyrian invader.
After disposing of unclean and "unchosen" nations, the prophet turns this attention to Israel, speaking out "against the whole family that [the LORD] brought up out of the land of Egypt" (3:1). Scholars think that the condemnation of Judah (2:4-5) comes not from the Amos but from a writer of a much later period after Jerusalem had been destroyed by the Babylonians in 587 B.C. But the condemnation of Israel (2:6ff) is vintage Amos, filled with moral outrage at a people who "sell the righteous" poor, who cannot pay their debts, into slavery. Destitute people in Samaria have as little value as a pair of shoes (2:6). Incest and sexual license are commonplace, and "father and son go in to the same girl" in direct opposition to the Law of Moses (2:7). Garments taken as security on a loan are not returned, and officials drink wine in the "house of their God"—the name "Bethel" means "house of God"—using money they have collected
as fines (2:8).
Corruption is everywhere. The people of Israel have turned out to be no better than the Amorites (2:9), that giant race whom God destroyed to make room for them. God brought them "out of the land of Egypt" and "raised up some of [their] children to be prophets," but now they are worse than their pagan neighbors. Israel has repressed prophecy and forced "the nazirites"--God's holy order—to break their vows and drink wine (2:12). And now they are no different from their enemies roundabout; no human strength or might will save them from the wrath to come. Like those wicked nations whom God has condemned for their sins, Israel will fall before the might of Assyria and nothing they do will "save their lives . . . in that day" (2:15-16). Neither will their chosen-ness save them; the fact of their being set apart only makes the suffering conspicuous, and prophets must announce it. Amos offers a series of examples of causes and effects to
explain why when God does something, he must reveal "his secret to his servants the prophets" (3:7). Now that "the LORD God has spoken", Amos his prophet has no choice but to prophesy.
The people of neighboring countries and erstwhile enemies of Israel are summoned to come to "Mount Samaria," the capital of the northern kingdom, to observe the profound moral chaos and "oppressions" there. In spite of having the Law of Moses to guide them, "they do not know how to do right" (3:10). Therefore, again according to the principle of cause and effect, "the adversary"—Assyria—"shall surround the land, and strip [its people of their] defense, and [their] strongholds shall be plundered" (3:11). Only a slight few shall be rescued from the onslaught. It will be like when a lion attacks a sheep, and the shepherd rescues "two legs, or a piece of an ear" so only a remnant of Israel shall be rescued "with the corner of a couch and part of a bed" (3:12). Only fragments shall be left.
As for the royal sanctuary of Israel and its corrupted worship, the LORD with destroy the "altars of Bethel"--"the horns of the altar shall be cut off and fall to the ground" (3:14). And for the houses of the rich, who have both summer and winter residences, all their "houses of ivory shall perish," all because of their idolatry and their callous treatment of the poor. Nothing will remain but "the corner of a couch and part of a bed."

Day 263. Joel 1-3

2011-03-23T06:19:00.001-07:00

Most of the prophets—especially Hosea and Amos—are highly critical of the Jewish religious establishment and view it from the outside. Like Ezekiel, Joel does not. He is deeply involved in and concerned for the worship life of the community. This has led scholars to surmise that Joel—whose name means "Yahweh is my God"—was a temple-prophet--a member of the priestly establishment. He speaks his oracles after the rebuilding of the Jerusalem temple but before Alexander the Great's destruction of the great Phoenician city-state of Tyre. So the book is a comparatively late one, written shortly before 348 B.C.
In a time of growing moral laxity, drunkenness (1:5), and religious indifference, the prophet Joel calls the people to repent and return to the LORD. Most of the other prophets deliver their oracles against the backdrop of political calamity—war or the threat of invasion. The crisis behind the Book of Joel is an ecological disaster, not a political one. Locust invasions were by no means uncommon in the ancient Near East; remember that the eighth of the plagues which accompany the exodus from Egypt was a blight of locusts—see Exodus 10:1-20. In our text it is sometimes difficult to tell whether the prophet is talking about an infestation of insects or the advance of an invading army. Locust infestations have a military quality to them. The prophet identifies four kinds of locusts (1:4), which are like soldiers in being differently armed for differing purposes. What one does not devour and destroy, another will until nothing is left.
The prophet sees the invasion of the locust army as a "sign" of the LORD's anger over the moral state of decay of his people. Joel's description is overwhelming in its vividness. The locusts descend upon the verdant land like an army, "powerful and innumerable," destroying everything before it. Everyone and everything—all creation mourns. The priests mourn because the regular offerings in the temple, the grain and the drink offerings, are cut off from the house of the LORD" (1:9) because of the locusts. The whole religious life of the nation is disrupted. Farmers mourn and are "dismayed" (1:11) at the loss of their livelihood. Plants and trees dry up, and "joy withers away among the people" (1:12).
In the face of ecological disaster, all the classes of society are summoned to "put on sackcloth and lament" (1:13). Joel the temple-prophet calls upon the "ministers of the altar" to lead this lament, gathering "the elders and all the inhabitants of the land to the house of the LORD" (1:14) for special services of penitence and fasting. The "day of the Lord is near" (1:13). We have already read of the "day of the LORD" in the writings of Isaiah (13:6), Jeremiah (46:10), and Ezekiel (30:3), in which it is seen as the coming time when the LORD will intervene directly in history. Like other prophets before him, Joel describes it as a day of "darkness and gloom" (2:2).
As the day approaches, all of creation is in crisis and danger. There is drought and wildfires break out. "The seed shrivels" (1:17); "the animals groan"; "cattle wander about"; "sheep are dazed" (1:18); "even the wild animals cry. . . because the watercourses are dried up" (1:20). The alarm is sounded—the "day of the LORD is coming" (2:1). The locust-horde blots out the sun as if creation were being undone. Before them the "land is like the Garden of Eden, but after them a desolate wilderness and nothing escapes them" (2:3).
The insects "have the appearance of horses" (2:4). They swarm everywhere—"they leap on the tops of the mountains." The sound of their wings "is like the crackling of a flame of fire," devouring everything before it. They move forward with a single will, "like a powerful army" (2:5) under the command of an unseen general. They are like besiegers, overwhelming and looting—"they leap upon the city, they run upon the walls; they climb up into the houses, they enter through the windows like a thief" (2:9). And the unseen commander of this invincible army is the LORD himself. "How vast is his host!" the prophet marvels. "Numberless are those who obey his command" (2:11).
The coming of this inhuman army heralds the coming of the day of the LORD. "Who can endure it?" he asks. And then gives an answer—Those who whole-heartedly return to the LORD, who "rend [their] hearts and not [their] clothing" (2:12) will endure. Their hope is based not upon their own strength or goodness, but upon the character of God himself—"he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding a steadfast love, and relents from punishing" (2:13). But God is inherently mysterious and uncontrollable. "Who knows whether he will not turn and relent, and leave a blessing behind him . . .?" (2:14), the prophet wonders.
Who knows if he will have mercy? There is only one way to find out-- "sanctify a fast" (2:13). No one is to be excluded, not the very old or the "infant at the breast" (2:16). The priests again take a leading role as intermediaries in this liturgy of repentance, begging the LORD to spare his people and begging him not to bring shame upon his people and upon himself as their God. And the LORD responds to the pleas of the priests and people—he becomes "jealous for his land and [has] pity on his people" (2:18), vindicating them "among the nations," and himself in the process (2:19). He acts to "remove the northern army far from" them, driving the insect horde into the sea.
Joel proclaims the glad news to the soil and to the wild animals, and "the children of Zion," are bid to rejoice because God has begun to heal his creation by giving them "the early rain of [their] vindication" (2:23-24). The prophet hails the return of prosperity to the land. The LORD has pledged that he will "repay [his people] for the years that the swarming locust has eaten, the hopper, the destroyer, and the cutter, [the LORD's] great army which [he has] sent against [them]" (2:23). And twice—for emphasis—he reports the LORD's pledge that his "people will never [again] be put to shame" (2:26, 27).
As we noted earlier, the "day of the LORD" is often pictured as a day of darkness and gloom, but Joel sees its positive outcome. "Afterward" he says, the LORD "will pour his spirit on all flesh" (2:28). In the Old Testament the spirit of the LORD is something that is poured out upon charismatic judges and military commanders—Gideon and Samson—and upon prophets. It is poured out upon kings as well, ritually in the rite of anointing with oil. But the prophecy of Joel looks forward to a day when everyone within the covenant community, even slaves—both male and female--will prophesy. (The early church saw this prophecy fulfilled in the events of Pentecost, and Peter uses this passage from Joel as the text for the sermon he preaches that day-- see Acts 2:1-21.) Joel breaks into apocalyptic language in describing the signs and "portents" that will surround the "great and terrible day of the LORD," but he assures his hearers even in
the midst of tribulation and confusion in the natural world, "everyone who calls on the name of the LORD shall be saved" (2:30-32)
Before the end there will be a day of judgment. The LORD who has scattered Israel in his great Diaspora—the word in Greek means "scattering"—will gather them into the "the Valley of Jehoshaphat." No such location can be identified-- the name Jehoshaphat means "the LORD has judged"-- the valley is simply the place where LORD will call his people to account (3:2) for their sins. Principally they are judged for selling Jewish youth into slavery, something strictly forbidden by the Law of Moses. This condemnation is extended to Tyre and Sidon because they had sold "the people of Judah to the Greeks." Because of the greed and cruelty their own children will be sold to the far-off Sabeans—residents of southern Arabia (3:8). (This was a time when the slave trade, though recognized as a great evil, was taken for granted as a fact of economic life.)
The day of judgment will take the form of a last great battle, the prophet says. The armies of "all the neighboring nations"—"multitudes, multitudes"—will be gathered in the valley of decision" (3:14). The armies of Israel will also gather in the "valley of Jehoshaphat," and in preparation for combat, they are bidden to "beat [their] plowshares into swords and [their] pruning hooks into spears." This is the reverse of the command of Isaiah in 2:4, but Joel sees the whole nation mobilized in a holy cause. On that day "let the weakling say, 'I am a warrior'" (3:10)--an injunction that has certainly been obeyed in the modern state of Israel.
Joel ends his prophecy with the triumph of Israel over its neighbors. "Jerusalem shall be holy"—purified of all foreign contamination—"and strangers shall never again pass through it" (3:17). Israel's enemies—Edom and Egypt—shall be desolated, but for the People of the Promise "in that day the Mountains shall drip sweet wine, and the hills shall flow with milk" (3:18). The long tribulation will be finally over, and Israel shall live in peace and security. No one will dare abuse or interfere with them.
Joel's particularistic, nationalistic vision of Israel's future is quite different from Isaiah's revelation of the universal gathering of the nations to Mount Zion and to the temple. But Joel's horizon is more limited than Isaiah's. He is a "minor" prophet in this sense—he is more concerned with the preservation of Israel's identity and worship than with its ultimate mission to the world.

Day 262. Hosea 10-14

2011-03-21T07:21:00.001-07:00

It is part of the tragedy of the prophetic calling to know more about the probable future than those around you do—to see judgment looming and still hope against hope that there will be repentance and reconciliation. That is the position of the prophet Hosea, speaking primarily to the northern kingdom of Israel in the last years of its existence.
Using an image familiar to the Bible, Israel is described as a "luxuriant vine" that God has planted in his vineyard. But Israel builds altars to false deities and raises pillars in the vineyard—these pillars were phallic symbols of the fertility gods worshipped by neighboring peoples that so easily seduced a people lacking spiritual guidance. But the LORD promises that he "will break down their altars and destroy their pillars" (10:2). Hosea presents a picture of a corrupt society in disorder. The ordinary people have no respect for God or king. They perjure themselves without fear of punishment and make covenants they do not intend to keep—"so litigation springs up [everywhere] like poisonous weeds" (10:4). (This situation resembles our own, beloved.)
The inhabitants of Samaria, the capital of the northern kingdom, "tremble for the calf of Beth-aven"--this is a statute of the bull calf dedicated to the god Baal and erected under royal patronage. Hosea predicts that the bull, made of some precious metal, will be "carried to Assyria as tribute to the great king," and Israel "shall be ashamed of his idol" (10:6). The pagan "high places" and cult sites shall be abandoned and grow up to "thorn and thistle" (10:8)—but not soon enough to fend off disaster.
Hosea tells a little parable that begins--"Ephraim was a trained heifer." The heifer is a pet, trained to trample grain on the threshing floor, and for that reason she is unused to yoke and plow. But now that situation is about to change. Israel will have to "break the ground," and Judah will have to pull the plow.
If the two kingdoms would sow for themselves righteousness the prophet promises that that they will "reap steadfast love" (10:12) from the LORD. In the midst of so much condemnation, Hosea is a word of hope. But before there can be forgiveness, the people must first "break up [their] fallow ground"—soften their hearts and "seek the LORD" so that he "may come and rain righteousness upon you." But so far they have showed no sign of doing this; instead, they have "plowed wickedness . . . , reaped injustice . . . , and eaten the fruit of lies" (10:13). They have trusted in their own military strength and not the help of LORD. And because of Israel's "great wickedness" (10:15), they face the prospect of invasion, terrible defeat, and atrocities committed against helpless civilians.
It did not need to end this way. In chapter 11 God fondly remembers the childhood of Israel when he trusted and obeyed the voice of his Father. (11:1 is quoted in Matthew 4:14-15 as a prophecy of the flight of the Holy Family into Egypt and their return.) But obedient childhood becomes rebellious adolescence—"the more I called him the more [Israel] went from me" sacrificing to the Baals and offering incense to idols. God was there to teach "Ephraim to walk," tenderly taking him "up in my arms" (11:30), but now the people do not recognize his providence and loving care. Therefore, they shall "return to the land of Egypt" where they were slaves and from whence the LORD brought them; "Assyria shall be their king" because they have rejected God as their king (11:5).
Nevertheless God cannot bring himself to repudiate them forever; he cannot maintain his "fierce anger" (11:9) against his children, no matter how wayward. He will frighten them back to their senses. The LORD will roar "like a lion" and "his children shall come [back] trembling" like "little birds from Egypt"; like "doves from Assyria" they will come again to the LORD, and he "will return them to their homes" (11:11).
Ultimately, however, Hosea despairs of Ephraim, the northern kingdom, filled as it is with lies and deceit. But there is still hope that Judah, the southern kingdom, will remain faithful to the covenant. But Israel chases after false security, trying to make treaties with Assyria and carrying oil to Egypt in an attempt to buy protection (12:1) rather than trust the LORD.
It has always been so. Israel has been wayward from his birth. The LORD remembers how Jacob—also called Israel—struggled with his brother Esau in the womb—see Genesis 25:19ff-- and how he wrestled with God by the brook of Jabok—see Genesis 32:22 ff. Filled with guile, Israel was always trying to get the better of God and man, using "false balances" to oppress the poor and then hiding behind a mask of righteousness, saying—"no offense has been found in me that would be sin" (12:8). There has never been an end to Israel's rebelliousness and waywardness. Through history God has sent prophets to Israel to warn the people of the danger in which they stood, and now through the prophets the LORD "will bring destruction" upon them (12:11). By a prophet—Moses—Israel was brought out of Egypt, and by Moses he "was guarded" (12:13). But because Israel has not heeded the words of the prophets, the LORD is determined to "bring his
crimes down on him and pay him back for his insults" (12:14).
Chief among those insults is his persistent idolatry. Ephraim was chief of the ten tribes of Israel, and he led them all by his example into the worship of Baal. It is all such foolishness. The people make little silver images of the bull calf of Baal and worship them with sacrifices. They kiss them for luck (13:2)—God is horrified at such patent stupidity—Imagine! "People are kissing calves!" These inanimate objects, "the work of artisans" are worse than useless; they amount to less than nothing compared with the power of the LORD, who brought them out of the land of Egypt and fed them in the wilderness and who now says to them—"Besides me there is no savior" (13:4). He was their savior, but now rejection has transformed the LORD into a savage and dangerous beast, like a lion, a leopard, a "bear robbed of her cubs"; "as a wild animal [he] will mangle them" (13:8) and nothing will be able will not "redeem them from Death"
(13:14). The east wind—the armies of Assyria—"a blast from the LORD"-- will "dry up his fountain" and "strip his treasury of every precious thing." Because Israel "has rebelled against her God," the people of Samaria "shall fall by the sword" (13:15-16).
And it would not have had to be so! Nothing is fated. God is capable of mercy. In his last words to the people, the prophet begs them to return to the LORD. The power of Assyria cannot save them, nor can the horses of Egypt (14:3). But God will have compassion upon the repentant, the one in whom "the orphan finds mercy" (14:3) will have pity on his own children. If they will only return to him, the people will again flourish like a luxuriant vine. But God can never have anything to do with idols. He will not take second place to a man-made object. He is "like an evergreen cypress"—changeless, and the faithfulness of his people comes from him.
Those who are wise will "understand these things" (14:9) the prophet has spoken. The ways of the LORD "are right," and those who are "upright walk in them." But because they have no understanding—no trust in the LORD who alone gives the insight that leads to life--"transgressors"—both men and nations—"stumble" and fall.

Day 261 Hosea 5-9

2011-03-17T07:14:00.001-07:00

Hosea is the first of what we call the "minor prophets." It is not easy to say what distinguishes them from the "major prophets"—Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel and Daniel—beyond the length of their writings. What marks an Old Testament prophet—major or minor-- is an unquestioning belief that God is speaking through him to a particular situation in a moment in the history of Israel. For the major prophets, that historical moment is longer and their message of judgment and hope more complex. For the minor prophets the situation is more discrete and more limited. But the same passion for truth and righteousness is shared by all, together with a sense of outrage at the betrayal of God's covenant. And all of them reserve their most violent language for the elites of Israelite society—kings, officials, and priests.
This is certainly true of Hosea. He fumes at the "house of the king," comparing the king and his court to hunters who have snared, spread nets, and dug deep pits to capture the bodies and souls of ordinary people, trapping them like prey. The princes have become dishonest and morally crooked—"like those who remove a landmark" (5:10). The total corruption of Israelite society has filtered down from them. They are without conscience or shame. Their vile deeds have totally estranged them from the Lord and "will not permit them to return to their God" (5:4). "They do not know the LORD"—by which he means they have no trust in him; and as a result God "has withdrawn from them" (5:6). They have "played the whore, pursuing other gods," and "borne illegitimate children" to their lovers (5:7), the offspring of their cultic orgies. Now the new moon festival, where they celebrated their pagan rites by having intercourse in the fields
to insure their fertility, will be not a sacred holiday, but a day of destruction for them "along with their fields."
The northern kingdom of Israel is by far the more highly schooled in depravity—the southern kingdom of Judah is only a willing student, according to Hosea. But both Israel--sometimes called Ephraim in our text--and Judah are corrupted and diseased. However, when they realize that they are sick and wounded, they apply "to the great king"—the ruler of Assyria—for help and security, not to the LORD. They make a mortal man their god and fear him. The king of Assyria is helpless to cure their infirmity (5:13)—he will only make it worse. It is the LORD who represents the greatest danger to their existence. He will be "like a lion to Ephraim, and like a young lion to the house of Judah" the prophet says. He "will tear and go away"; he will "carry off, and no one shall rescue" (5:14) from his grasp. He will go away and not return until the peoples of both kingdoms "acknowledge their guilt and seek [his] face" (5:15).
Chapter 6 begins with a penitential psalm in which the voice of the prophet—speaking for the faithful--expresses a desire to "return to the LORD" for healing after a period of punishment. The words of verse two--"on the third day he will raise us up"--was interpreted by early Christians to refer to the resurrection of Jesus, but originally it expressed confidence that if the people repent God will soon restore what he "has torn." Hosea calls then to turn from idolatry and to "know the LORD"—respond to God with the trust and confidence a wife has to a loving husband. "Let us know; let us press on to know the LORD," he exhorts the people. He alone is the source of security, healing, and hope. "His appearance is like the dawn" after a long dark night, the prophet says, and like "spring rains" after the drought of winter (6:3).
But it is only through obedience that we draw near him. In Old Testament Judaism sacrifice was considered central, necessary to the worship of the LORD, expressing the devotion and dependence of the creature upon the Creator. The prophets did not repudiate sacrifice entirely, but they did place it firmly in an inferior position. Like Jesus of Nazareth, who in so many ways stood within their tradition, they consistently say that it is an attitude of reverence and a life marked by concrete acts of mercy and justice that pleases him, not sacrifices. He seeks constancy in us—"your love is like a morning cloud," he complains of Israel. He know us as we really are; "his judgment goes forth as the light" (6:5)--it penetrates everywhere and everyone. He sees the attitude behind the gift, and he says to his people—"I desire love and not sacrifice, the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings" (6:6).
And burnt offerings cannot disguise the smell of the monstrous crimes—the "whoredom"-- of which Israel is guilty—"Israel is defiled" (6:10), the prophet says. But Judah's sins will not be ignored—"For you also, O Judah, a harvest is appointed" (6:11). The weight of the judgment falls upon Israel and its rulers, who applaud the sins of their people--"by their wickedness they make the king glad, and the officials by their treachery" (7:3). Their lusts, drunken revelry, and violent anger are compared to "a heated oven" (7:4)—"all night their anger smolders; in the morning it blazes like a flaming fire" (7:6). Ephraim—the northern kingdom—is a "cake not turned"—burned on one side, raw on the other. Prematurely old, its national strength is sapped by it alliances with foreigners (7:9), yet Israel does "not return to the LORD their God, or seek him, for all this" (7:10).
These shifting alliances with foreigners--Egypt and Assyria during Hosea's time-- reveal the basic lack of trust in God in both kingdoms—"Destruction to them, for they have rebelled against me" (7:13), he says. Entanglements are a sign of death--the vulture that circles over "the house of the LORD" is Assyria (8:1). It has been summoned by the stench of death; the nation is dying because it has broken covenant with God. Its people "make kings"—but not with God's guidance—they make idols of silver and gold "for their own destruction" (8:4) and worship Baal in the form of a golden bull. (The bull-calf was a symbol of fertility throughout the ancient world and often the representation of the Semitic storm god Baal. Apparently, under royal patronage, a Baal-calf has been erected in Samaria, the capital of the northern kingdom, arousing divine jealousy and fury.) "It is from Israel, an artisan made it; it is not God," the LORD
says through his prophet. And because it is not God and the LORD is, "the calf of Samaria shall be broken to pieces" (8:6).
And the nation will be broken and scattered with it. "For they sow the wind"—the nothingness of idol worship--and they shall reap the whirlwind" (6:7)—a terrible and now gathering storm. The people of Israel, once a holy nation, are no different from everyone else—"now they are among the nations as a useless vessel" (8:8)—begging to be smashed. Their alliances with Assyria and other nations will prove useless and hopelessly burdensome—"they shall soon writhe under the burden of kings and princes" (8:10). The altars they have constructed to "expiate sin" have become "altars for sinning" (8:11). They have proved unworthy of his forgiveness. Now the great acts God did in the exodus are about to be undone—Israel "shall return to Egypt" (8:13). Because they have "played the whore" they will lose the land that God has given and go into exile—"they shall not remain in the land of the LORD; but Ephraim shall return
to Egypt, and in Assyria they shall eat unclean food" (9:3). As aliens, they shall not only be deprived of the Promised Land, with it they shall be robbed of the opportunity of keeping God's law. They shall make offerings to the LORD, "but their sacrifices shall not please him" (9:4). Their "appointed festivals" shall be neglected and forgotten (9:5). Having lost the laws and traditions of their people, they will lose their identity and become no different from anyone else. "Egypt shall gather them, Memphis shall bury them" (9:6).
But when the prophets try to warn them of the terrible peril in which they stand they ridicule God's messengers—"The prophet is a fool, the man of the spirit is mad!" (9:7). When the prophet is "a sentinel" for Israel, he is despised and "a fowler's snare is on all his ways" (9:8). But Israel was different once: they were not always hard and cold. They were like "grapes in the wilderness" and "like the first fruit on the fig tree" when God first saw and loved their ancestors—they were innocent as a tender plant (9:10). "But they came to Baal-peor"—the story is found in Numbers 25:1-5—"and consecrated themselves to a thing of shame"—the god Baal in bull form—"and became like the thing they loved" (9:10). (People always come to resemble the thing they love most.) And now the people of Israel shall be left barren and sterile—"no birth, no pregnancy, no conception" (9:11). They will be bereaved "until
no one is left" (9:12). They prayed to their idols for fertility, and what will they receive?—"a miscarrying womb and dry breasts" (9:14).
From the time when they entered the Land of Promise at Gilgal, Israel has done nothing but grieve the Lord, and now he is determined that he "will love them no more"; the people are strayed into idolatry, and "all their officials are rebels" (9:15). The whole country is "stricken with barrenness"; now even if they do succeed in giving birth, the LORD threatens to "kill their cherished offspring" (9:16). And they are destined to lose the land and "become wanderers among the nations" (9:17).

Day 260. Hosea 1-4

2011-03-14T09:15:00.001-07:00

In out reading for today we move far back into the history of the chosen people to the period before the fall of the northern kingdom of the Israel and the career of the prophet Hosea, who was active between 769-697 B.C. His oracles span the reigns of five kings of Israel and Judah (1:1) and give us a unique perspective on the relationship between God and his people based upon metaphors drawn from marriage and sexual love.
In it one of the misperceptions cherished by those who have never made a business of actually reading the Bible that the Christian scriptures are prim and straitlaced, when in fact quite the opposite is true. The Bible is in fact an embarrassment to the prudish of every age, dealing as it does with shocking honesty with every very aspect of human life, not the least the sexual. And for proof of that we need go no further than the writings of Hosea.
Who was Hosea? We get little information about his life before he is called to prophetic ministry with an outrageous command--"take a wife of whoredom and have children of whoredom" (1:2). This goes against all the social norms of society in which virginity before marriage and faithfulness in marriage were both expected and demanded of women—on pain of disgrace or even death. The prophet is told essentially to marry a harlot and have children with her. What a family in the parsonage! Hosea might not have been much of a bargain either, of course, but that's not the point.
Prophets were often commanded to perform symbolic acts—visual parables—to illustrate the message that God is speaking to his people—we have seen this before. Hosea's dysfunctional family life is his message. The chosen people—who are God's spouse—have been profoundly unfaithful to their husband. They have "whored" after the Canaanite fertility gods and taken part in the orgies that accompanied their worship. And Hosea is commanded to marry Gomer, whose name means "End" and who symbolizes the people of Israel, and when she bears him a son, the LORD commands him to name the child "Jezreel" (1:4). This name has a complex double meaning. It means "God sows [abundantly]". It is also the name of a plain where a great battle had been fought. A rebellious general named Jehu fought and killed both King Joram of Israel and King Ahaziah of the house of David on the plain of Jezreel. Jehu's bloody coup founded the present dynasty
in Samaria, which was notorious for its wickedness. Now through his prophet Hosea God promises that he will "put an end of to the kingdom of the house of Israel" (1:4). When a second child is born to Hosea and Gomer, a girl, she is named "Lo-ruhamah," which means "not pitied"—because God will "no longer have pity on the house of Israel or forgive them" (1:6). The LORD has not yet given up on the southern kingdom of Judah—Hosea prophesied during the supremacy of several of Judah's best rulers—and the LORD promises that he "will have pity on the house of Judah" and "save them" (1:7). But when Gomer bears Hosea another son, the LORD commands that he be named "Lo-ammi," (1:8), which means "I am not yours." This is to underline the message God has for the northern kingdom of Israel—they are on their own.
Because of their unfaithfulness the people of Israel are no longer his people and he is no longer their God—that is Hosea's message. Yet inside the LORD's harshest condemnation mercy is always hidden. So, based upon God's love for his people and his eternal faithfulness to His word, at the same time Hosea condemns Israel his is also able to express the hope that Ephraim will have numberless descendents and that the day will come when the name "You are not my people"—Lo-ammi--will be changed to "Children of the living God" (1:10). The divided kingdoms of Israel and Judah will someday be reunited under one king (1:11). Then the shame of "Jezreel" will be taken away, and only its other name will be remembered--"God sows [abundantly]"(2:22). Lo-ammi shall become Ammi—"my people"—and Lo-ruhamah shall be renamed Ruhamah—"pitied" (2:1).
In this section—2:2-16-- Hosea, taking the part of God, the wronged husband, calls upon his children to beg their mother to "put away her whoring from her face" (2:2). She will continued to be punished until she realizes who it was "who gave her the grain, the wine and the oil, and who lavished upon her silver and gold" that she lavished upon the worship on the pagan god Baal (2:8). The LORD will "lay waste her vines and her fig trees, of which she said, 'These are my pay, which my lovers have given me' (2:12). But when these things are taken away and she is miserable and destitute, then she will realize it was the LORD, her husband, who gave her these good things, and not Baal—the name means "my Lord"—or the other pagan gods she has taken as her lovers.
Beyond punishment there is hope, however. Once he has disciplined her for her unfaithfulness, the LORD promises her a sort of second honeymoon. He will "allure her, and bring her into the wilderness and speak tenderly to her" (2:14). And then they will be reconciled and their love renewed. "Then she will respond as in the days of her youth, as at the time when she came out of the land of Egypt" (2:15). Then God will "marry" Israel forever "in righteousness and in justice, in steadfast love, and in mercy" (2:19) and take her as his wife "in faithfulness" (2:20). And she shall call him, "My husband," and no longer "my Baal" (2:16)—"my Lord"-- for the names of the pagan gods, with whom she was once unfaithful, shall be banished and mentioned "no more" (2:18). "On that day" the LORD will call from heaven and Israel shall answer from the earth that "God sows" his people "in the land, they are his and he is
theirs" (2:23).
Then the prophet—who is indeed given some rough assignments—is told to go and "love a woman who has a lover and is an adulteress"—we are not told if this is poor Gomer or not—"just as the LORD loved the people of Israel though they turn to other gods and love raisin cakes" (3:1). (Raisin cakes were a traditional offering brought to the agricultural gods worshiped in Canaan.) But he is forbidden to have intercourse with her "for many days" because for a long time Israel shall be without regular government—"king or prince"—and without spiritual guidance from either the LORD or the pagan gods—"without sacrifice or pillar, without ephod or teraphim" (3:4). When this period of abstinence is over the people "shall return and seek the LORD their God, and David their king" (3:5).
But in the oracle that begins with chapter four, the LORD delivers an "indictment against the inhabitants of the land," because there is no trust in him--"no faithfulness or loyalty, and no knowledge of God" (4:1). Creation is languishing because of their unfaithfulness—wild animals, birds, and fish are dying because of the moral decay and decadence of the people. And who is to blame? Hosea singles out the priests and the prophets, because they "have forgotten the law of God." Because of the terrible examples they set and their negligence in teaching the Law of Moses, "the people are destroyed for lack of knowledge" (4:6). Hosea quotes the proverb: "Like people, like priest" (4:9)—the moral decay of the people reflects the laziness and carelessness of the clergy.
And because they are not taught, the people have reverted to the practices of the pagan Canaanites—sacrificing to strange deities on the mountains and in sacred groves, and seeking to ensure of fertility of the land by having sexual intercourse with temple prostitutes. "When their drinking is ended, they indulge in sexual orgies" (4:18), Hosea complains. The northern kingdom of Israel is more deeply into pagan practices—"playing the whore"; the prophet can only hope that Judah will not follow the example of Israel and become guilty of the same offenses (4:15). There is still hope for Judah and for the house David; as for Israel his depravity is too deep to be reformed—"let him alone" (4:17), the LORD says.

Day 259. Daniel 10-12

2011-03-11T16:12:00.001-08:00

It will be no secret from you by now, beloved, that apocalyptic literature is difficult to understand. It not only runs counter to the expectation of the modern reader for clarity and transparency in writing, it is deliberately obscure, and intentionally unclear to those who do not know its secret codes. If you approach it without expecting to completely understand it, its images will be luminous and its symbolic language dramatic. It is great poetry electrically charged with spiritual meanings. It is intended to give strength and hope to the helpless and oppressed, and it does. But it also exerts an endless fascination for certain people—sometimes a dangerous fascination, as the history of both Judaism and Christianity demonstrates with abundant examples. It encourages crazy and violent interpretations. It has the power to unhinge and fanaticize. It arms the unbalanced, the angry and the ignorant with the weapon of revelation about the future, and
nothing is more dangerous than that. Enough said.
Our reading for today delivers to us one last climatic vision before the Book of Daniel ends. Daniel, sage and hero, stands "on the bank of the great river (that is, the Tigris)"; and confronted with the most frightening apparition thus far—"a man clothed in linen" (10:5. Although the angel is not named, only lavishly described, he is in all probability the "prince" Gabriel, the LORD's secretary of state and ambassador extraordinaire. At the angel's appearance, Daniel's companions flee in fear, and so he is "left alone to see this great vision" (10:8).
And indeed so tremendous and terrible is the sight that that his strength leaves him and Daniel "[falls] into a trance, face to the ground" (10:9) But an angelic hand touches him and rouses him to consciousness (10:10), and then Gabriel explains, almost apologetically, why he is so long delayed. He has been engaged in a struggle with another "prince." Ancient people believed that every nation and people has its own personification—its "prince,"—a spirit expressed their own corporate personality. Gabriel tells Daniel that "the prince," the guardian spirit, "of Persia opposed [him] twenty-one days" (10:13). Seven times three is a holy number, in divine time awhile--but not forever. No nation, no matter how strong, lasts forever. But the Persian "prince" is indeed redoubtable. Finally Michael the archangel, "one of the chief princes"--the guardian spirit of the people of Israel and the LORD's commander in chief—has to be
brought in to "help" Gabriel. The struggle is, however, unconcluded. Gabriel has left Michael to handle "the prince of the kingdom of Persia," and has comes to Daniel to help him "understand what is to happen to [his] people at the end of days." His people are in need of additional revelation "for there is a further vision for those days" (10:14).
But Daniel is too shell-shocked by Gabriel's appearance to absorb his message. Twice more the angel has to touch him and speak words of encouragement—"Do not fear, greatly beloved, you are safe. Be strong and courageous!" Only then is Daniel able to collect his wits enough to say, "Let my lord speak, for you have strengthened me" (10:19). But Gabriel is in a hurry. His has great business to attend to. He must oppose "against the prince of Persia" on the battleground of history, and when he is through with Persia "the prince of Greece will come" (10:20). They are mighty adversaries he must fight one after another with only the archangel Michael, the warrior and the "prince" of Israel to help him (10:21).
But before hastening away to these battles Gabriel announces the future to Daniel—and to the persecuted Jewish people. The angel's revelations to Daniel represent the past for the writer and for his contemporaries. He is recounting what is history to them when he says that three more kings would arise from Persia, and during the reign of the fourth, from Greece "a warrior king" would appear (11:3). This is, of course, Alexander the Great, who extended his dominion across much of the then-known world. But at Alexander's early death his vast empire was separated four ways-- "divided toward the four winds of heaven"-- partitioned among his generals, rather than inherited by "his posterity" (11:4), since Alexander died without issue. Alexander's successors in Egypt, the kings of the Ptolemaic dynasty, began a long struggle with the Seleucid dynasty in Syria for control of Palestine—the "beautiful land" (11:16). There is no reason
for us to linger over all of this—it was interesting to the Book of Daniel's first readers as background to their own political situation. In our text it is the meaning of the protracted conflict between the "king of the south"—Egypt—and the "king of the north"—Syria, and it occupies chapter 11:5-39.
Again all this is past history to the writer and his readers, until he reaches the account of how a usurper, "a contemptible person on whom royal majesty had now been conferred"—Antiochus IV Epiphanes-- comes to power "through intrigue" (11:21). For the writer of the Book of Daniel, Antiochus is the present ruler of Palestine and the dangerous reality with which the Jewish people are now dealing.
Having established his authority over Palestine and "swept away" the Jewish high priest—"the prince of the covenant" (11:22)—Antiochus sets about an ambitious—and from the point of view of the writer, sacrilegious--program for "reforming" Jewish worship. His "heart [is] against the holy covenant" (11:28), and he lavishes enormous funds in fostering a syncretistic blend of Jewish and Greek religious practice. This proceeds by force, when necessary; the Syrian king occupies and profanes the temple and the fortress of Jerusalem. He then sets about abolishing "the regular burnt offering" and installs "the abomination that makes desolate" (11:31) in the sanctuary. This "abomination"—to which the writer has referred earlier--was the statue of Olympian Zeus which Antiochus orders erected in the temple. Some Jews, especially among the upper classes, collaborated with the king, "but the people who are loyal to God . . .
stand firm and take action" (11:32). This action means armed revolt, and it is met with bloody repression. The faithful "fall by sword and flame, and suffer captivity and plunder" (11:33). Some of the "wise"—the unblemished, righteous ones-- are also killed, but by their martyrdom the vision promises that they will "be refined, purified, and cleansed, until the time of the end" (11:35).
And that is not yet—"there is still an interval until the time appointed" (11:35). Here the vision is less specific because we are now in the "true future." But this much is certain—the worst is yet to come. Antiochus' pretensions know no bounds. He considers "himself greater than any god"—his own gods or "the God of gods" (11:36)—and he offers to make those who "acknowledge him" wealthy (11:39). But the righteous will endure in their struggle against this incarnation of evil, and in the end his forces shall be scattered and exhausted, and he shall "come to his end, with no one to help him" (11:45)
But what of those who die in that "time of anguish"?—that is the final question the writer of the Book of Daniel considers. And his answer is in Old Testament terms, truly revolutionary. The angel Gabriel reveals to Daniel the truly amazing fact that at the end of time a general resurrection shall take place—"Many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake," he says, "some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt." There is hope beyond death for the faithful—"Those who are wise shall shine like the brightness of the sky, and those who lead many to righteousness, like the stars forever and ever" (12:2-3). This is the clearest statement about the general resurrection of the dead to be found in the Old Testament. But it is linked to the ancient belief in God's absolute justice. It is the answer to Job's relentless question—Why to the good suffer? The doctrine of the resurrection says that
beyond history justice will triumph over injustice. There is no reason to fear the sword of tyrants like Antiochus because they have no control of our ultimate destiny. God is in control.
But questions remain—more questions than answers. The author tells both Daniel, the hero of the story and us what we want to know--When will this happen? When will justice and life triumph over the forces of death? How will long will it be until the anguish and wonder of present time give place to the glorious end? An angel "clothed in linen" gives him a typical cryptic apocalyptic answer—The tribulation will last "for a time, two times, and half a time" (12:7)—a time is a year in apocalyptic language—so in three and a half years it will be over. But what happens then?
Daniel does not understand—How can he? How can anyone? Some the things must remain a secret even from the wise—"sealed until the time of the end" (12:9). Some things must be spoken in riddles to protect them from the wicked. The language of apocalyptic is a secret language, a code—but those "who are wise shall understand" (12:10), the prophet is assured. When the wicked king takes away "the regular burnt offering" and "the abomination that desolates" is set up in the temple, the wise can start counting—it will be 1290 days till the end (12:11). And those who persevere to see that end are called blessed. It will be all right—that is the message conveyed to the faithful. And Daniel himself, hero and sage, is promised rest by the angel after his terrible visions and disturbing dreams, and the reward of resurrection with the wise "at the end of days" (12:13), when all that is obscure will be revealed.

Day 258. Daniel 7-9

2011-03-09T19:41:00.001-08:00

We have noticed characteristics of apocalyptic literature in our earlier readings, but here in the last chapters of the Book of Daniel we encounter apocalyptic fully developed. Apocalyptic is addressed to an oppressed minority to encourage them in a time of persecution. That is what the Book of Daniel does—constantly underlining the theme that in spite of appearances, The LORD is in charge of history and that before long he will vindicate and rescue his "holy ones." As we noted earlier the Book of Daniel is set during the period of transition between the Babylonian and Persian empires and centers around the character of a Jewish hero and sage of that period whose name it bears. But in fact it was written by an unnamed author much later in the Greek period when the Jews were experiencing savage persecution at the hands of Syrian overlords. He uses all the apocalyptic elements to convey his message—visions, dreams, supernatural voices, and a
language of bizarre symbols intended to reveal a hopeful message about the future while hiding its meaning from the hostile and the uninitiated.
We are among those uninitiated, dear readers, and we have to pick our way slowly through our obscure text to uncover its meaning. The story is set hundreds of years before its writing, back before the fall of Babylon to Darius the Persian. The sage named Daniel experiences "a dream and visions of his head as he [lies] in bed" (7:1). The substance of his dream is this: Out of the sea—symbolizing the chaotic future—there arise four beasts, each different. There is a winged lion, a tusked bear, and four-headed leopard. Daniel does not linger longer over these than it takes to describe these beasts, symbolizing powerful kingdoms that rise and fall with the ebb and flow of history.
It is with the fourth beast that the dream is mostly concerned—it is depicted as "terrifying and dreadful and exceedingly strong" (7:7). Unlike the beasts that preceded it, this one has "ten horns"—horns, apocalyptic symbols of power, in this case represent kings. As Daniel watches a small horn sprouts from among the others, and three earlier horns are "plucked up by the roots" to make room for it (7:8). This new horn is different from the others in that it has "human eyes"—symbols of sentience and knowledge and a "mouth [that speaks] arrogantly" (7:8). This king is the immediate threat to the writer's generation. Daniel's vision of the distant future is his clear and present danger.
The vision continues as Daniel is ushered into the heavenly court and sees "an Ancient One" enthroned, "his clothing . . . white as snow, and the hair of his head like pure wool" (7:9), surrounded by "ten thousand times ten thousand [angels] attending him" (7:10). The appearance of God—his great age-- emphasizes that persistent theme in the Book of Daniel—that the LORD's dominion is an everlasting one, outlasting all earthly kingdoms. They are mere upstarts, coming and going, as the "Ancient One judges and deposes them. The "books" are opened—they represent the record kept of the good and evil deeds done by nations and individuals in preparation for their final judgment (7:10). The "arrogant words that the horn was speaking" are registered. He is endured for a time, but like all the others he will fall. The beast from which he springs will be "put to death" and its body "burned with fire" (7:11). The other three
beasts have lost their dominion, "but their lives [are] prolonged for a season and a time" (7:12)—this last expression, familiar to apocalyptic literature, means a while, but not forever. They live only at the sufferance of LORD until his final kingdom is established, then they too will pass away.
Still in the heavenly court, Daniel sees "one like a human being coming on the clouds of heaven" and approaching the Ancient One (7:13). The identity of this heavenly being, described as having the appearance of a mortal man—a son of man-- is not revealed in our text. Perhaps he is the embodiment of the coming kingdom, or perhaps he is God's true intention for humanity—his untarnished image. Of course Christians are bound to identify him with Jesus Christ, to whom is delivered an eternal dominion and a kingship . . . that shall never be destroyed," once the beasts—the kingdoms of this world-- have passed away. And it is a source of comfort to us to think of Jesus Christ, who is the same "yesterday, today, and forevermore."
But Daniel finds no such consolation in his dreams; in fact we are told that "the visions in [Daniel's] head terrified [him]" (7:15)--just as Nebuchadnezzar's dreams had frightened him. In his perplexity he approaches one of the supernatural attendants to "ask him the truth concerning all this." In reply he is told that the four beasts he had seen represent "four kings that shall arise out of the earth." They are indeed terrifying and powerful in their own time, but in the end the "holy ones of the Most High shall receive the kingdom forever" (7:18). Then Daniel inquires specifically about the fourth beast because it is so especially frightful, and he is told that it is a kingdom "different from all other kingdoms," because it will "devour the whole earth" (7:23). Ten horns—ten kings—shall arise from its head, and then a last king—the little horn that sprouts among the others-- will be different from all the former and
much worse, because he blasphemes the LORD God, makes war upon his "holy ones," and attempts to change the sacred seasons and the law" (7:25)—undermining the identity of the Jewish people. These "holy ones" shall be given into his power for "a time, two times, and half a time" –apocalyptic language for 3 ½ years (see Daniel 9:27). Then the divine court shall sit in judgment and the power of the fourth beast shall be taken away and dominion will be "given to the people of the holy ones of the Most High" forever (7:27). It is an encouraging thought, but Daniel can only contemplate with fear the persecutions that are coming to his people and we are told that his face turns pale with terror (7:28).
Two years later Daniel is visited by another dream. This time he finds himself "in Susa in the province of Elam" (8:2). King Belshazzar still reigns in Babylon, but now Daniel is transported to the winter capital of the Persian Empire, the empire of Darius, who will supplant Belshazzar. There at the heart of the Persian realm the prophet sees a ram with two horns. It charges "westward and northward and eastward"—all other beasts "are powerless to withstand it" (8:4).
Then a male goat appears with a single horn between its eyes—a lone ruler. It runs at the ram "with savage force" (8:6). It ran at the ram and broke it horns and the ram "did not have power withstand it" (8:7) and "there was one who could rescue the ram from its power." And "the male goat became exceedingly great; but at the height of its power. The great horn was broken, and in its place there came four prominent horns toward the four winds of heaven" (8:8).
This is where the prophecy intersects with writer's own moment in time. Out of one of these horns grows a smaller horn, a ruler who will extend his power in all directions notably toward "the beautiful land"—Israel. He not only acts arrogantly, as former rulers had. He also interferes with temple worship, taking "the regular burnt offering away [from the LORD]" and overthrowing "the place of his sanctuary" (8:11). His evil regime shall "cast truth to the ground," but nevertheless keep on "prospering in what it [does]" (8:12). The persecution seems unendurable. As the Book of Daniel is being composed, the Jewish people are asking--How long can this state of affairs continue? Daniel hears one of the "holy ones"—an angel—ask another that question, and he replies that after 2300 morning and evenings "the sanctuary shall be restored to its rightful state" (8:14). Until then the people of God must wait and hope.
Confused and frustrated--and well he might be—Daniel the sage struggles to understand the vision he has been granted. The angel Gabriel tells him that these visions are "for the time of the end" (8:17). Apocalyptic literature always deals with "the appointed time of the end" (8:19). It attempts to explain the direction in which history is moving, and to elucidate how present events fit into the universal scheme of things.
So Gabriel explains that the ram with two horns stands for the king of Media and Persia, whose alliance overthrows the Babylonian empire. The "male goat" signifies the King of Greece--the great horn is its king—Alexander the Great. After Alexander's death—when "the horn . . . [is] broken" (8:22)-- his vast empire is divided among four of his generals, who received respectively Macedonia and Greece, Asia Minor, Syria, and Egypt—the four horns. Palestine fell first under the authority of Syria and its rulers, who were called the Seleucids, after the first ruler Seleucus I.
The Seleucid ruler at the time of the writing of the Book of Daniel is one Antiochus IV Epiphanes (175-163 B.C). He is the horn, "a little one, which grows exceedingly toward the south, [and] toward the east," extending his sphere of power outward from the Seleucid capital of Antioch, and encroaching upon "the beautiful land" (8:9)—Israel. Antiochus is the one who will "without warning . . . destroy many." There will be martyrs among the faithful, and he will even rise up against the Prince of princes"—against God himself. Putting himself in the place of God, savagely persecute those who do not accept his authority—the "holy ones" of our text-- and he will even venture to interfere with the sacrifices in the temple.
The sage Daniel in our story does not understand the prophecy even when the angel explains it and his lack of comprehension makes him physically ill (8:27). But he gets up and goes back to the king's work, strengthened by the assurance that God will in the end triumph over all his enemies—the beasts that defy him—and save his people.
Now Daniel has recourse to the writings of the prophet Jeremiah, especially the prophecy that seventy years—one full lifetime-- after "the devastation of Jerusalem" the people will be allowed to return to their homeland (9:2). So in the hope that God will keep his promise made long ago, Daniel prays "with fasting and sackcloth and ashes" (9:3-4), making confession for the sins of his people, past and present. God is righteous; Israel is shameful in its disobedience (9:7). God is merciful and forgiving; Israel is disobedient and willful (9:8). Daniel readily admits that "what was done against Jerusalem" was the result of the people's infidelity to the Law of Moses. "God is right in all that he has done" (9:14). But in spite of that, Daniel prays that "[his] face shine upon [his] desolated sanctuary" (9:17). Daniel presents his supplication for himself and his people "not on the ground of [their] righteousness, but on the ground
of [God's] great mercies" and for his name's sake (9:19).
And as Daniel is praying the angel Gabriel appears "in a vision . . . in swift flight at the time of the evening sacrifice" (9:22). He assures Daniel that he is "greatly beloved" (9:23) and gives him an insight into things to come. For the writer of the Book of Daniel the seventy years of captivity in Babylon are long past. Now another crisis is taking place—a pagan ruler is seeking to destroy the very identity of the Jewish nation. It will be "seventy weeks"—a long, but finite time—before the persecution will end. The exile in Babylon was a punishment for sins against the Law. The persecution the Jews are now undergoing has a larger meaning. It is not only a punishment and atonement for past sins, but part of the struggle "to bring in everlasting righteousness" (9:24). It is part of God's plan for the establishment of his kingdom.
The "seventy weeks" of persecution is broken down into periods: seven weeks for the word to go out to rebuild Jerusalem; sixty-two weeks and then an "anointed one" shall be "cut off"—defeated--with nothing. Then the "troops of a prince who is to come"—Antiochus Epiphanes, the king of Syria—"shall destroy the city and the sanctuary" (9:26). There will be all sorts of disasters-- flood and war-- and "desolations are decreed" (9:26). This evil prince—called in the text "the desolator" (9:27) will make a "strong covenant" with many of the Jews—traitors and collaborators. With their collusion, he will stop the "sacrifice and offering" in the temple. In place of rightful worship, he will establish "an abomination that desolates"—The Abomination of Desolation—in the sanctuary (9:27). In fact, Antiochus IV Epiphanes did erect a statue of the Olympian Zeus within the temple compound, sparking the revolt among
pious Jews recorded in the books of First and Second Maccabees. But "the desolator" and the "abomination that desolates" have a "decreed end." God is sovereign over all those evil forces at work in history to thwart his will, and his holy people will share his victory over them.

Day 257. Daniel 5-6

2011-03-07T06:38:00.001-08:00

"Pride goeth before a fall," my mother was fond of saying.
The mighty Nebuchadnezzar is reduced to eating grass. The great king recovers his senses and humbles himself before a Greater King before he dies. His son, however, learns nothing from his father's mortification. This new king, Belshazzar, is if anything haughtier than the old one, and the time comes to show him who's boss.
The occasion is a party. And what a party—a thousand guests are gathered to witness his glory and power. Belshazzar's feast is the stuff of opera and silent movies. Everybody is the worse for wine. In the midst of it the sodden king commands that the vessels plundered by his father from the temple in Jerusalem be brought out "so that the king and his lords, his wives, and his concubines might drink from them" (5:2). This is, of course, the most frightful sacrilege—a mockery of the Most High. Not only does the drunken crowd drink wine from the holy vessels of gold and silver, but they use them to toast the health of "the gods of gold and silver, bronze, iron, wood, and stone" (5:4), of their idols, in short, the sworn enemies of God. It is an insult that cannot be endured.
And it isn't. "Immediately" the fingers of a supernatural hand appear and began to write on the plaster of the wall of the palace. The king's consternation is unbounded—"his limbs gave way, and his knees knocked together" (5:6). The music and laughter die. The party is over. The court magicians are summoned, but in spite of the motivation provided by the promise of great wealth, they are unable to read the writing on the plaster wall. "King Belshazzar became greatly terrified; his face turned pale, and his lords were perplexed" (5:9), we are told. But the queen, who is obviously the brighter bulb on the tree, recommends that Daniel be sent for, because during the reign of Nebuchadnezzar he had proved himself to be "an excellent spirit, [filled with] knowledge, and understanding to interpret dreams, explain riddles, and solve problems" (5:12).
So Daniel is brought in, and the challenge of the supernatural writing put before him. He gallantly declines the gaudy gifts the king offers, however. But he does take the opportunity to recount the story of the humiliation of Belshazzar's father, who through madness and disgrace finally learned the truth "that the Most High God has sovereignty over the kingdom of mortals, and sets over it whomever he will" (5:21). But Belshazzar has proved that he learned nothing from his father's experience. He knows all that befell to the old man, and yet he "has exalted himself against the LORD of heaven" (5:23). The prank of drinking wine from the sacred temple vessels was the last straw. It would have been bad enough, but he used them to praise idols, "but the God in whose power is [his] very breath, and to whom belong all [his] ways," he did not honor (5:23).
Now the party really is over. The writing is on the wall, as they say. Daniel tells Belshazzar that the days of his kingdom are numbered—"mene." He has been weighed on the scale of history and found wanting—"tekel." His kingdom shall be divided between the Medes and the Persians (5:26-28)—"parsin." In spite of getting such ominous news, Belshazzar is as good as his word—he exalts and enriches Daniel, giving him the third rank in the kingdom. But the party is over. Belshazzar's feast is in fact a wake. That very night Belshazzar is killed and the Darius the Mede "[receives] the kingdom, being about sixty-two years old" (5:31).
Daniel remains a power in the new regime. But again there are evil forces working against him. He is incorruptible, that is universally acknowledged, and his enemies realize that if they are to bring him down it must be through "the law of his God" (6:5). So they persuade Darius to issue an edict saying that "whoever prays to anyone, divine or human, except [the king] "shall be thrown into a den of lions" (6:7). It is a silly, wicked piece of law, and unworthy of Darius, who was famous over-all for his tolerance, clemency, and wisdom. But the story is the story, and the cruel edict is necessary to it. It places before our hero that choice about where to place his ultimate allegiance—with the king or with God. And, of course, Daniel chooses God; his loyalty cannot be swayed, even if it means death. It is a constant them in the Book of Daniel, without absolute commitment, honor, wealth, and life itself is meaningless. It is a message tailored
for a people under stress and persecution.
"The conspirators" resort to spying on Daniel and catch him praying in the direction of Jerusalem as God had commanded his people to do. At their report the king is greatly distressed, but we are told—several times in fact--that "according the law of the Medes and the Persians" the edict could not be changed (6:12). It is another silly, wicked law, but necessary to the story. Because of it, the king has no recourse but to have Daniel cast into the lions' den, through with his best wishes—"May your God, whom you faithfully serve, deliver you!" (6:16), he says by way of good-by. We are told, however, that he has no appetite for his dinner and "sleep [flees] from him" (6:18).
Every child in Sunday school knows what happens then. Early the next morning the hurries to the lions' den, calls out for the prophet, and waits anxiously for an answer. He is not disappointed. Daniel replies, "Oh king, live forever! My God sent his angel and shut the lions' mouths so that they would not hurt me, because I was found blameless before him; and also before you, O king, I have done no wrong" (6:22).
So Daniel, vindicated, is pulled out, and the king rejoices. But his joy quickly turns to anger and he orders that those "who accused Daniel [be] brought and thrown into the den of lions—they, their children, and their wives" (6:24)—a part of the story usually suppressed in the Sunday school versions. And the cats "overpowered them and broke all their bones in pieces" (6:24), and being cats, ate them all up.
Then the king publishes another decree, this one to the effect that all peoples "should tremble and fear before the God of Daniel" (6:26) who saved him "from the power of the lions" (6:27). And Darius acknowledges that empires and their kings come and go, but the LORD's "dominion has no end" (6:26). It is the constant them of the Book of Daniel--God is in ultimate control of all of history and knows its directions and its end. And in the next chapters of the book through dreams and visions he lifts the curtain a little and gives the prophet and his hearers a glimpse how things will shake down.

Day 256. Daniel 3-4

2011-03-05T04:56:00.001-08:00

Kings often suffer from forgetfulness—history abounds with examples to prove it. That's why they make the same mistakes over and over again.
That's what happens to King Nebuchadnezzar in our reading for today. The dream of the crumbling statue that so terrified him in yesterday's reading is no sooner explained to him, than the king in his overweening pride commences to make an enormous golden statue—essentially an idol--of himself. And once the great poppet is set up, his herald is instructed to command all his officials—"satraps," by the way, were the highest ranking provincial administrators in the Babylonian and Persian empires—shall "fall down and worship the golden statue" that the king has erected. Indeed at a designated signal all the kings subjects—"all the people, nations, languages" (3:7) of his empire—are to worship his golden image.
Of course we know that the Jews cannot do that, bound as they are by the First Commandment which forbids the fashioning and worshipping of images. So we are told that "certain Chaldeans" denounce them to the king--Snitches! They are almost certainly moved by jealousy and political ambition. In particular they snitch on "certain Jews whom [the king has] appointed over the affairs of the province of Babylon: Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego" (3:12).
When he hears of it the king is furious—imagining anyone not wanting to worship your image! He threatens to heave the three of them "into a furnace of blazing fire" if they persist in refusing to worship him (3:15). The problem is a conflict of loyalties. Modern people might see it as conflict between the individual and the state, but from the point of view of the Book of Daniel the clash is between the king and the LORD himself. The question is: Who is God? Nebuchadnezzar has forgotten the most basic fact of human life—the arrangements mortals make for governing themselves are transitory and both kings and nations die. The Jews are put in this world remind us all where our ultimate loyalties lie—with the eternal rather than the temporary. (The Jews tend to forget this too.)
But the three young Judeans remember well enough, and they make this heroic reply to the angry king—"If our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the furnace of blazing fire and out of your hand, O king, let him deliver us." You note that the three do not make any demands of God. They do not claim a miracle as their right. Instead, they remain obedient to the will of God whether that means life or death—it is up to their God to decide which. They are only willing to say that if they are not delivered, "be is known to you, O king, that we will not serve your gods, and we will not worship the golden statue that you have set up" (3:17-18). So there!
All attentive Sunday school children know what happens next. The king is filled with rage—he is literally burning. He orders the furnace stoked up to match his fury. He has the three young men bound and cast into the furnace, which by now is so overheated that the raging flames kill the men who lift Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego" and cast them into the fire (3:22). Collateral damage, we might call it. In any case, it is manifest that the king is has lost control of his temper and is losing control of the situation.
And if that weren't bad enough, the king is further alarmed because in the furnace he can see not three men bound, but "four men unbound, walking in the middle of the fire," unscathed, and the fourth having the appearance of a god" (3:25). The truth of the situation is not lost upon us, dear reader—the three young Jews with the difficult names are not alone, even in the fiery furnace—and neither are we in our furnace. But the king is dazzled. He summons the three out of the furnace, and they emerge, totally un-singed, with "not even the smell of fire" about them (3:27). Nebuchadnezzar recognizes a miracle when he sees one, and he issues another royal decree, this one to the effect that anyone who "utters blasphemy against the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego shall be torn limb from limb . . . for there is no other God who is able to deliver in this way" (3:29).
Now we might think he has learned his lesson, but we would be wrong. (Kings often suffer from forgetfulness.) Nebuchadnezzar has another dream. He tells us about it in the form of an imperial letter or proclamation that begins with this salutation—"King Nebuchadnezzar to all peoples, nations, and languages that live through the earth: May you have abundant prosperity!" (4:1). He then gives glory to "the Most High God" and acknowledges the lesson that he learned through the first of his dreams—and will shortly to his sorrow have to relearn—that kings rise and fall, but the LORD's "sovereignty is from generation to generation" (4:3).
The king confides in all the peoples through the earth the dream that he says had that "frightened" and "terrified" him. (Ancient people put more stock in dreams than we can imagine putting.) He says that he sought the advice of the Chaldean diviners about it, but they could give him no interpretation worthy of the name. So at last he consulted Daniel "who is endowed with the spirit of the holy gods" (4:8).
Then Nebuchadnezzar recounts his dream. In it he sees "a world tree," so enormous that its top reaches heaven. Animals and birds find shelter under its branches, and its abundant fruit "provided food for all" creatures, and "from it all living beings were fed" (4:12). But now the dream takes an alarming turn. "A holy watcher"--an angel we suppose, or a god-- "coming down from heaven" cries out—"Cut down the tree and chop off its branches" (4:14). All that is spared is the stump of the tree, bound with iron, which is left to be "bathed with the dew of heaven," in the company of "the animals of the field in the grass of the earth" (4:13). The tree is a person, obviously, but who is it? We know, but the great Nebuchadnezzar is clueless. Whoever the tree is, the watcher says, "his mind [will be] changed from that of a human, and the mind of an animal will be given to him" (4:16). All this will take place, the voice of
the watcher says, in order to demonstrate that "the Most High is sovereign over the kingdom of mortals"(4:17).
This is the dream Nebuchadnezzar submits to Daniel for his interpretation. Now it is Daniel's turn to be "terrified" because the explanation of it is worse than the dream--and it is certainly more dangerous to his own well-being. But the king insists upon an interpretation. So Daniel reveals that the tree is the king himself—Surprise! –and the sentence the Most High has passed upon him is degradation and madness. As Daniel says: "You shall be driven away from human society, and your dwelling shall be with the wild animals. You shall be made to eat grass like oxen, and you shall be bathed with the dew of heaven, and seven times shall pass over you" (4:25)--"seven times" means "seven years" (see Daniel 7:25)—before your will knowledge that "heaven is Sovereign" over you. Daniel then advises the king to "atone for [his] sins with righteousness, and your iniquities with mercy" (4:27), and perhaps things will go easier on him.
We are not told whether the king takes this excellent counsel; we can assume he did not, because twelve months later Nebuchadnezzar was walking on the wall of Babylon, exalting in the magnificence of his city and his own power, when he is struck with madness and is reduced to eating "grass like an oxen" (4:32). His mental illness reduces him to the level of a beast—"his hair grew as long as eagles' feathers and his nails became like birds' claws" (4:33).
The humbling of Nebuchadnezzar remind us of the humbling of Pharaoh in the book of Exodus, and it is undertaken for the same reason—to punish his pride and show him who is boss. It comes, however, to a more merciful end. After seven years of insanity, his reason returns to him. His lesson is learned and he returns to imperial power, but with a sobering insight—"the inhabitants of the earth are accounted as nothing" even kings (4:35). God's power is sovereign and endures forever, and his decisions are above censure or reproach (4:35). So the proud king is harshly disciplined; the mighty tyrant is chastened by the fear of the LORD, who alone is able "to bring low those who walk in pride" (4:37).

Day 255. Daniel 1-2

2011-03-03T04:56:00.001-08:00

The Book of Daniel is addressed to Jews experiencing severe persecution. One of the principle themes of the book is this-- obedience to God's law, especially in the face of pressure to conform, gives blessings (1:20). God will protect those who follow his commands and maintain their Jewish identity in spite of coercion and violence. Daniel and his three companions are placed front and center as an example of faithfulness.
Together with Job and two others whose names would mean nothing to us now, Daniel was one of the four great sages of ancient world, and his words were passed from generation to generation on as part of the wisdom tradition. Both a hero and a saint, wonder stories and colorful legends clustered around him. The book the bears his name contains many of them. It was one of the last in the Old Testament to be composed, written centuries after the events it narrates, during the Greek period, following the conquests of Alexander the Great. In tone the Book of Daniel is much less like the other so-called "major prophets," Isaiah and Jeremiah and Ezekiel, with which it is grouped in the Christian Bible, and much more like the Book of Esther, which it follows in the Jewish Bible.
The story of Daniel, like that of Esther, is set in history, but has a quality of romance and high adventure. It begins when Jerusalem is besieged and plundered by the Babylonians. In thanksgiving to his gods, whom he believed had given him the victory, King Nebuchadnezzar took some of the vessels of the house of God, "brought [them] to the land of Shinar"—Mesopotamia—"and placed [them] . . . in the treasury of his gods" (1:2). (This will be important to the story later.) Also part of the spoils are four noble youths whom King Nebuchadnezzar takes back with him to Babylon as hostages and to serve as pages in the royal palace there.
God, we are told, allowed the city to be sacked and the people deported, but he does not abandon these nice Jewish boys, alone in a strange country. At the Babylonian court the noble Jewish are treated well. They are "taught the literatures and language of the Chaldeans" (1:4), but at the same time are expected to conform to the pagan customs of the land. Daniel is given a Babylonian name—Belteshazzar—and the other three are given Chaldean names as well—Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. All four names are filled with references to the Babylonian gods. More problematic, however, are the rations. The boys are also expected to eat the food and wine from the royal larder, which are, of course, not pure by Jewish religious standards. Daniel begs the palace master not to force him to defile himself with un-kosher food. He asks instead that he and his three compatriots be put on a diet of vegetables and water. This the king's servant does, though
reluctantly, but the boys thrive on this plain fare and are blessed by their obedience--"God gave [them] knowledge and skill in every aspect of literature and wisdom. Daniel also had insight into all visions and dreams" (1:17). And dreams and their interpretation will be central of the story of Daniel throughout, as visions are to the prophecies of Ezekiel.
King Nebuchadnezzar, we are told, "dreamed such dreams that his spirit was troubled and his sleep left him" (2:2). It is ironic--the king who has conquered the whole world is terrified by his own nightmares. He offers his own magicians, enchanters, and sorcerers great rewards if they can give him an interpretation that will set his mind at rest—at the same time he threatens them with death if they cannot. But confronted with the mystery of the king's dream, the magicians reply: "The thing that the king is asking is too difficult, and no one can reveal it to the king except the gods, whose dwelling is not with mortals" (2:11).
This is, of course, in essence true. Only God can open the door of the future. But it isn't the sort of truth the king of kings wants to hear, and his reaction is predictable. He flies into a rage and orders that "all the wise men of Babylon be destroyed" (2:12), and his agents set out to look for Daniel and his three friends "to execute them." But in the face of death, Daniel "[responds] with prudence and discretion" (12:14)—the wisdom to know how to bide your time and wait for inspiration—and he asks for time before "he would tell the king the interpretation" (2:16). Their request is granted. And Daniel and his friends use the time they are granted to "seek mercy from the God of heaven concerning this mystery" (2:18) and their prayers are answered—"the mystery [is] revealed to Daniel in a vision of the night" (2:19)—another dream. Then Daniel responds to the grace of God with a psalm of thanksgiving because the LORD
has "revealed to us what the king ordered" (2:23). No one can reveal the meaning of dreams but God, so when Daniel appears before the king he refuses take credit for the interpretation. Instead tells the king that "there is a God in heaven who reveals mysteries, and he has disclosed to King Nebuchadnezzar what will happen at the end of days" (2:28).
In Nebuchadnezzar's dream the statue represents the kingdoms of this world and their rulers. The stone cut "not by human hands" (2:24) that strikes it is symbolic of the power of God. Human kingdoms vanish "and become like the chaff of the summer threshing floor and the wind [carries] them away," Daniel tells the king. But the stone which becomes a mountain "that [fills] the whole earth" is the kingdom of God which outlasts all human kingdoms (2:35).
The golden head of the statue in the dream is Nebuchadnezzar himself (2:38)—a not unflattering interpretation—and those parts of the statue's body are the kingdoms "inferior to [his own]" (2:39) that will follow. The last of these, a mixture of iron mixed with clay, "will not hold together, just as iron does not mix with clay" (2:42). It will crumble into nothing when stone of divine power strikes it, and then God will establish a kingdom that shall bring all others to an end, "and it shall stand forever" (2:44).
Daniel's interpretation is inspired on several levels. Nebuchadnezzar could hardly do anything but reward one who tells him that "the great God has informed the king what shall be hereafter" (2:45). Daniel's interpretation also reveals the ultimate meaning and direction of history. The king of Babylon is more than impressed--he tries to worship Daniel as if he were a god: a humorous image to the story's first hearers, the great king groveling at the feet a Jewish boy. But the point goes deeper. Nebuchadnezzar, the pagan monarch, proclaims Daniel's God the "LORD of kings" (2:47)—which of course in every sense he is. Again prudence and bravery in the face of violence are rewarded. The king gives Daniel "many great gifts" and promotes him to be "ruler of the whole province of Babylon and chief prefect over all the wise men of Babylon" (2:49), just as the Pharaoh of Egypt had promoted Joseph, again because he could interpret
troubling dreams. It was a skill respected and admired in ancient times above all others. (For centuries afterward the Jews of Babylon continued to be famous as astrologers and interpreters of dreams—remember the "wise men from the east" who followed to the star to find the child Jesus. They were in all likelihood Jewish sages from Babylon.) So everything came out well. At Daniel's request his three friends—Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego --are promoted too, and they all might have lived happily ever after—if life were like that.

Day 254. Ezekiel 46-48

2011-03-01T13:25:00.001-08:00

Barriers are important—for everybody's protection.
The priests controlled access to the Jerusalem temple, and access is a very important part of the mind-set of Ezekiel the prophet/priest—who may enter and where and who may not and why. He recognizes the sanctity of the LORD as a dangerous thing. He envisions the new temple as a set of barriers intended to protect the holiness of God from those who might otherwise break into places where they should not be and suffer the consequences. Ezekiel is very aware of these barriers.
If you remember from yesterday's reading the outer gate on the east side of the temple, the one through which the LORD had returned to it after his long absence, was to be closed forever thereafter. It belongs to the LORD only. Entry for mortals is taboo. The inner eastern gate, however, shall be opened "on the Sabbath day" and "on the day of the new moon" (46:1), but only to the priests and to the ruler of the people. Through the prophet, the LORD stipulates the ritual surrounding the prince's entry into the sanctuary by the east door and his making "offerings of well-being," which he tenders not only for his own sake, but for the sake of the people. Large numbers of people would be expected to be present at these sacrifices, and instructions are given in our text for their orderly movement through the temple courts. But the LORD's instruction is very specific--the ruler shall not separate himself from the ruled—he "shall come in
with them; and when they go out, he shall go out" (46:10). All mortals must learn their place in the presence of the eternal God.
Yet the prince has certain extraordinary duties. One of them is to provide "a lamb, a yearling, without blemish" for sacrifice in the temple "daily, morning by morning" (46:13), as well as special sacrifices on high holy days. These shall come from "the inheritance of the people," the public wealth. This public wealth is not the ruler's to use at his own discretion. He shall not give it to his servants or his children as a gift. Nepotism is prohibited. The treasury of the nation belongs to the people, and the ruler shall not appropriate it or treat it as his own. Barriers are important--there is to be a wall between public funds and the prince's own fortune.
Ezekiel's angelic guide takes him to visit "a row of holy chambers for the priests" on the north side of the sanctuary (46:20). These rooms are to function as sacred kitchens in which the flesh of the animals sacrificed as guilt offerings and sin offerings is to be cooked, and the grain offerings baked. They are cooked there on the premises of the temple in order "not to bring them out into the outer court [where the people are] and so communicate holiness to the people" (46:20). Holiness is an active force that can be dangerous unless it is channeled properly-- barriers help to do that.
Next Ezekiel's angelic guide shows him the most remarkable thing of all--from below the threshold of the temple a stream of water flows out into the world. And as it courses on it grows in size from an ankle-deep brook to a sacred "river that [the prophet] could not cross, for the water had risen; [and] it was deep enough to swim in" (47:5). The heavenly guide leads Ezekiel along the river, southward, among the "great many trees" that grow on its banks. Animals and birds swarm its margins and fish teem in its waters, turning the wilderness into a veritable Garden of Eden. And when the sacred river reaches the Dead Sea—here called "the Arabah" (47:8)—it has the power to make its salty, lifeless water fresh (47:10). People will fish in the Dead Sea—a thing never heard of before. The river gives life to everything it waters. Because of its virtue, the trees growing on both sides will never wither or die; "they will bear fresh fruit
every month, because the water for them flows from the sanctuary. [The fruit of those trees] will be for food; and their leaves for healing" (47:12). We will encounter this same sacred river in Revelation 22:1-2, flowing from the throne of God through the middle of the street of the heavenly Jerusalem, watering the Tree of Life.
The long discussion follows about the boundaries of the twelve tribes in the reconstituted Promised Land. This is a highly optimistic forecast, considering that the Judean exiles are still in Babylon and the tribes of the northern kingdom have vanished completely. But the command to "divide it equally" comes directly from God himself, together with the command to share it with the "aliens who reside among you and have begotten children among you." The LORD directs that "they shall be with you as citizens of Israel; with you they shall be allotted an inheritance among the tribes of Israel" (47:22). Each tribe is given an equal portion of the restored Land of Promise, and the citizens of restored Jerusalem are provided for. The descendents of Zadok—the high priestly family—are allotted the area directly surrounding the Temple Mount. Adjoining land is given to the other Levites, the temple servants, but with the command that "they shall
not sell or exchange any of it; they shall not transfer this choice portion of the land, for it is holy to the LORD" (48:14). Remaining portions of Jerusalem are divided between ordinary citizens as "the property of the city"—common land on which to raise their food and pasture their cattle.
And there Ezekiel's prophesy ends. Jerusalem lives on as a human city existing in time, and yet also as an unchanging holy city, beyond history. Its ultimate destiny is simply to be--enclosed by foursquare with three gates on each side, each gate representing one of the twelve tribes. It is a testimony to the faithfulness of the God who is worshipped in its temple. His presence makes the city the center of the earth, the navel of the universe, an earthly heaven, and gives it its new name—"The LORD is There" (48:35).

Day 253. Ezekiel 43-45

2011-02-28T08:37:00.001-08:00

In our last reading, we received Ezekiel's description of the new temple. In today's reading he places the visionary temple in the context of a restored Jerusalem, and provides a blueprint for right worship and holy living.
Remember that in 11:22-23, Ezekiel describes seeing the glory of God departing from the temple going to the east; now in a vision Ezekiel beholds "the glory of the God of Israel . . . coming from the east." And he reports hearing "the sound of many waters" (43:2)—this is the noise made by the living creatures who guard and serve the LORD (1:24). It is the reverberation of history; God is on the move. Ezekiel reports that "the earth shines with his glory"—this is the brilliance that both reveals the presence of the LORD and hides it. The prophet, overcome by the radiance, falls on his face—such is the impact of his encounter with the divine—but not before he sees the glory of God re-enter the temple from the east, the direction of the rising sun, effectively rededicating it.
Now the LORD speaks to Ezekiel directly out of the temple without intermediary (43:6) declaring the conditions under which he will establish his eternal presence there. The temple shall no longer be in proximity to the palace of the secular ruler or near the sepulchers of dead kings (43:9). It must be morally as well as spatially distanced from such things. Only when the people of Israel "put away their idolatry and the corpses of their kings far from [him]" will the LORD come and abide with them forever. The prophet is then instructed to faithfully deliver to Israel the plans and arrangement of this new temple, together with the "law of the temple" which has been revealed to him (43:12). Whether this is an entirely new law, or simply reaffirms the old law is unclear from the text. This much is certain—the new temple is to be holy—removed from all desecrations and all possibility of profanation—and "the whole territory on the top of the
mountain all around shall be most holy" (43:12).
The prophet is given an elaborate description of the altar that shall be constructed in the new temple, together with instructions regarding the sacrifices surrounding seven-day dedication and "atonement" services. These are to be supervised only by "the levitical priests of the family of Zadok"—the traditional high-priestly family (43:19)—not by any of the "regular clergy," who have corrupted themselves. Only when this atonement is complete can the regular "offerings of well-being" be tendered in accordance with the instructions found in the first three chapters of Leviticus.
This temple belongs to the LORD alone. The gate by which the LORD returned to this new temple from his "exile"—the one facing east—shall remain perpetually closed—"no one shall enter it" (44:2). Because God has entered by that way, no one else ever shall. Only "the prince, because he is a prince"—Ezekiel has in mind a secular ruler of the restored house of David--may sit in that gate to eat a portion of the sacrifices of well-being (44:3). He is, after all, God's viceroy. Otherwise the east gate cannot be used.
Now Ezekiel is himself taken to the north gate of the new sanctuary, and there he is given instructions regarding who "may be admitted to the temple and all those who are to be excluded from the sanctuary" (44:5). All foreigners—those who are "uncircumcised in heart and flesh" (44:7)—shall be excluded from the sanctuary and prohibited from offering sacrifices there. This runs exactly counter to Isaiah's universalistic vision of the new temple (Isaiah 56:3-8).
Ezekiel the priest, however, is primarily concerned with ritual purity of the temple and its priests. Therefore apostate Levites—those who went "astray from [the LORD] after their idols when Israel went astray" (44:10)—shall be relegated to the lesser tasks of slaughtering the animal sacrifices. In this new temple they are not to approach the LORD, but they are appointed "to keep charge of the temple, to do all its chores, all that is to be done in it" (44:14).
But the faithfulness of the descendents of Zadok--the high priestly clan "who kept the charge of [the LORD's] sanctuary when the people of Israel went astray" (44:15)—shall be commended and rewarded. Only they shall enter his sanctuary and approach his table, offering him the bread of the presence and the symbolic parts of the sacrificial animals. As a symbol of purity, they are to wear only linen vestments (44:17). The mixing of linen and wool is forbidden as "un-kosher" and impure. They are to take off these linen vestments—apartments in the new temple are designated for this purpose—"so that they may not communicate holiness to the people with their vestments" (44:19). Furthermore, they are to avoid ritual uncleanness in a number of symbolic ways—by not cutting their hair (44:20), by not drinking while on duty (44:21),and by refraining from marrying a widow or a divorced woman (44:22). By both their words and their behavior they
are to teach the people of God "the difference between the holy and the common, and show them how to distinguish between the unclean and the clean" (44:23).
The authority given to priests in the Law of Moses is affirmed. They are to function as judges "in a controversy" (44:24). They are to take special care not to become unclean by touching a corpse (44:25)--though certain exceptions are made for close family members. And they are not to eat meat that has not be ritually slaughtered" (44:31). Ezekiel the priest has a special concern for the maintenance of priests and their families. Since they are to be provided for by the offerings given to the temple and the LORD is 'their holding," they are to possess no land. Instead, "every devoted thing [offered to the LORD] shall be theirs" (44:29). The people are told to "give to the priests the first of your dough, in order that a blessing may rest upon your house" (44:30)
Furthermore, a holy district shall be allotted in the restored Jerusalem for the sanctuary and for the houses of the priests next door—a sort of parsonage situation. "Alongside" the holy district shall be the city of the secular prince and his people—"it shall belong to the whole house of Israel" (45:6). Sacred and secular shall not intermix. But the princes are reminded of their sacred role as God's viceroys. They shall "no longer oppress" the people (45:8); instead they are commanded to "put away violence and oppression" and uphold the traditional property rights of the Israelite tribes (45:8-9).
A fair and honest system of weights and measures is the foundation of a just economy and in the new community of restored Jerusalem God sets and guarantees honest scales 45:10-12). The demands for sacrifice are graduated. No one who can give is excluded from giving, but the heaviest weight of obligation lies most heavily on the prince (45:17).
He is to provide sacrifices for the two annual rites of purification—one for the temple (45:18-19) and other an atonement for persons who have "sinned through error or ignorance (45:20). The observance of the feast of Passover, the celebration of the deliverance from Egypt, is commanded—in this period Passover was a communal temple celebration rather than a rite performed in a family setting, as it is today. The prince is required to provide the sacrificial animals for Passover, as well as for Succoth, of the Feast of Booths, (45:25) during which Israel recalled the years of wandering in the wilderness and the guidance that brought them to the Promised Land.
In Ezekiel's vision of the new and restored Jerusalem, the sacred and the profane are strictly segregated, and each person has his or her part in maintaining their separation.

Day 252. Ezekiel 40-42

2011-02-26T15:26:00.001-08:00

We had an occasion to note awhile ago that Ezekiel was a priest in the Jerusalem temple before he was taken into captivity with the first group of Judean exiles. In spite of his brilliant vocation as a prophet, the lost temple was never far from his consciousness.
This hopeful, longing vision of a restored and resplendent temple is dated April 28, 573 B.C., about fourteen years after Solomon's temple had been destroyed by the Babylonians. The LORD's house in Jerusalem is a scorched ruin. Its furnishing and vessels have been carried off to Babylon as plunder. Now Ezekiel is carried in a vision back to the land of Israel and set down on "a very high mountain" (40:2)—there is no indication that it is Mount Zion where Solomon's temple stood. There he is met by a heavenly being, a sort of angelic surveyor, whose appearance "shone like bronze" (40:3). Who has been assigned to guide him through the visionary temple—the temple of the future that already exists in the mind of God. The angel carries a handy measuring reed in length "six long cubits"--each cubit being 20.5 inches.
Using this device, he ascertains that the thickness of the walls of the heavenly temple is the same as its height—about ten feet (40:5)—and we know immediately that this is going to be an odd building indeed. But aside from its strict symmetries it is very plain. Ezekiel, who is capable of lavish description, gives us only the sketchiest account of its ornaments. The palm tree pilasters (40:26) recall the decorations of Solomon's temple (1 Kings 6:29), but the prophet avoids depictions of human or animal forms which might encourage the idolatry (see Exodus 20:4) that had invaded the old temple before its destruction.
But in the midst of a myriad of measurements, he does pause to tell us that chambers provided face north "for the priests who have charge of the altar." These, we are told, "are the descendents of Zadok, who alone among the descendents of Levi may come near the LORD to minister to him" (40:47). Zadok was a descendent of Aaron, and Israel's first high priest (Exodus 29:26-29), and only priests of his family were allowed to perform the most sacred of duties. The prophet, always concerned with good order, supports the claims of the Zadokite priests and provides a place for them in the heavenly sanctuary. Otherwise there is no mention of personnel in this visionary temple—or furnishings. It seems to be largely empty.
The temple building itself has three sections—an entrance area or vestibule (we Lutherans would call it a narthex), the principle room or "nave," and an inner room, the Holy of Holies--the angelic surveyor, who acts a little like a realtor on a house tour, calls this "the most holy place" (41:5). (There is no mention of the Ark of the Covenant, which had been the principle furnishing of the Holy of Holies and had been carried off as part of the plunder of Solomon's temple.) The decorations on the walls of the nave and holy place recall the cherubim of Ezekiel's earlier vision of the divine chariot (1:5-14). These cherubim are guardians, functioning as servants of the LORD.
All in all, especially compared with the temple of Solomon, this building is very austere indeed. All the gorgeous ornamentation in gold and precious stones lavished upon the former temple is missing from the description of this sanctuary. Its strict geometry, however, is representative of divine perfection. This temple is completely pure and without profanation or uncleanness. And to underline this, the whole of the sanctuary complex is surrounded by a high wall, "five hundred cubits long and five hundred cubits wide," expressly intended "to make separation between the holy and the common" (42:20).
There is no evidence that this heavenly temple reflects any building ever built. It exists only as a vision in the mind of Ezekiel, the prophet-priest, who longs to minister in it. It is an uncorrupted sanctuary, unblemished by sin and idolatry—it is what the temple should have been, not what the temple ever was. In that, Ezekiel's visionary temple is like the Church we long for, free of its sordid past and ambiguous present—the Church that exists for us in heaven, but nowhere else.

Day 251. Ezekiel 37-39

2011-02-26T06:14:00.001-08:00

The Valley of Dry Bones is arguably the most well-known passage in the Book of Ezekiel, and one of the most celebrated in the Bible. Through the famous African American spiritual "Dem Bones" it has entered language of the popular culture and is familiar to many who have no idea where the words come from. Again, we are told, "the hand of the LORD" comes upon the prophet—it is Ezekiel's way of conveying that he felt the presence of God intimately and urgently. And "the spirit of the LORD" transports him in a vision to a valley "full of bones" (37:1). The "spirit" is the force behind this whole passage—it is that which inspires the prophet and it is also the same life-giving power—the "breath'-- that restores life to the corpses of the dead (37:10). The Hebrew word "ruach" can be translated in a number of ways--as "wind," as "spirit," and as "breath" (see Genesis 1:2 and 2:7)—all three meanings are present
in this passage. "The spirit"—notice the lower case—isn't exactly the Holy Spirit of Christian theology, but for Christians it is impossible not to associate the Spirit of the Risen Christ with the power that gives life to the dead.
We don't know if Ezekiel's vision corresponds to any real place. In all probability it is intended to be the site of some long-ago battle; the bones of the unburied slain are picked and scattered about and "very dry" (37:2). The Lord initiates a dialogue with the prophet—"Mortal, can these bones live?" The question touches on God's own power to give new life to the lifeless, and being to what does not exist. But the prophet, uncertain how to answer, refuses to commit himself-; "O LORD GOD, you know" (37:3), he replies. The bones are, after all, "very dry"—from the human point of view the situation is hopeless. But the LORD commands Ezekiel to prophesy his words to the bones, promising that he will "cause breath (spirit) to enter [them], and [they] shall live" (37:5). It is a theme that recurs again and again in the Bible—the Word of God gives life.
And the prophet does what he is told—he prophesies to the bones. And the scattered bones—in which must be one of the most impressive scenes in all of literature-they begin to seek out each other and reassemble themselves—they are "gathered" and flesh and sinews cover them. There is, however, "no breath (spirit) in them" (37:8)—they are still mere corpses. But then the LORD commands the prophet to say—"Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live" (37:9). And when the prophet does so, the dead live and stand on their feet—"a vast multitude" (37:10).
Then the LORD interprets the vision. The dry bones correspond to the despondent Judean exiles in Babylon, who see themselves as without hope or future and as good as dead. But God has a plan. He promises that his miraculous power working through history will "open [their] graves" (37:12) and give his chosen people a new life—an "inspirited" life. He will "put [his] spirit within them, and [they] will live" (37:14). In its original context this vision pointed to the return of the exiles to their "own soil" and to a reformed and restored kingdom of Israel. But Christians have seen Ezekiel's vision as an image of the final resurrection of the dead and a vision of their ultimate hope in Christ.
Then Ezekiel is commanded to enact a visual parable. He is to take two sticks. On one he is to write—"for Judah, and the Israelites associated with it" and on the other "for Joseph, and the house of Israel associated with it" (37:16). The first represents the two tribes of southern kingdom of Judah and the second represents the ten tribes of the northern kingdom of Israel. Then the prophet is ordered to bind the two sticks together into a single stick. And he is told that if asked to interpret this visual parable he is to say that God will gather the people of Israel—the twelve tribes that have been scattered-among the nations--and "make them one nation in the land" of promise. "One king shall be king over them all. Never again shall they be two nations, and never again shall they be divided into two kingdoms" (37:22).
They shall be united under the rule of "my servant David." And "they shall have one shepherd" (37:24)—God himself. The LORD will "save them from all the apostasies into which they have fallen" (37:23) and they will willingly and instinctively keep his laws. They will dwell forever in the land promised to Jacob, where "my servant David shall be their prince forever" (37:25). And God will make an everlasting "covenant of peace with them" and establish his temple—"his dwelling place"--among them (37:27). The temple in Jerusalem will be rebuilt and the worship of the LORD restored, and by this all the nations will see and acknowledge that the LORD has sanctified Israel as his own people—his particular possession-- making them holy, a people set apart. And having done this the LORD will establish them in security for a long time.
This millennium of peace and security, however, will be shattered by Gog of Magog, who represents all the forces of aggression and chaos. The king called Gog, the ruler of a nation called Magog which is identified with "Meshech and Tubal" cities in Asia Minor (38:1), is unknown to history. We cannot identify this ruler or his people with any particular king or nation. The names themselves convey nothing—they are symbolic of an evil world power to come. Gog has been identified with Napoleon, Hitler, and Stalin—take your pick. In our reading Gog is the apocalyptic ruler of the future who will sweep down "from the north," the biblical direction of threat and invasion, upon the hapless people of God. He gathers his forces from all the corners of the then-known world—from Asia and Africa and "the remotest parts of the north" (38:6); it is a truly international army representing the whole world—all lawless powers, all conquering empires.

"In the later years"—sometime in the future, perhaps the distant future—this terrible army shall sweep down on the land of Israel, where the returned exiles are living in peace. Their security will be shattered by a multinational invasion "coming on like a storm" (38:9). That storm will break over "a land of unwalled villages" and of "quiet people who live in safety" (38:11). Gog will take advantage of people "living without walls" to "seize spoil and carry off plunder" (38:12) and ravage the land.
But when "Gog comes against the land of Israel" the wrath of God will be "roused" (38:18). In [his jealousy" for his people he will bring a terrible earthquake upon the land, and "will pour down torrential rains and hailstorms, fire and sulfur, upon [Gog] and his troops and the many peoples that are with him" (38:22). God will make war upon war of Gog. Fire will fall from heaven and the king and his armies "shall fall on the mountains of Israel"; there the birds and wild animals will devour their bodies (39:4). And their homeland—Magog—and those nations which supported it in its imperial ambitions will also be destroyed by God's fire (39:6). God will make war on war itself. He will do all this in order to make his "holy name known among [his] people" (39:7). His victory is already won, as the text makes clear. It is in the future, but his triumph over the forces of chaos is also in the present—it is now--and it is in the
past—it has already happened (39:8). The people of Israel will burn the weapons of Magog "for seven years"—they will not need to cut firewood, for they will make cooking fires of the weapons of the fallen host (39:10).
And God will consign the bodies of Gog and his horde to a place of burial outside its boundaries, so that the land will not be contaminated. It will take seven months to bury them all; every bone shall be sought out and disposed so the land may be pure (39:15). And this will happen soon. The prophet is called to summon the birds and the wild animals for the "sacrificial feast," the feast of flesh and blood that God has prepared for them (39:17). They shall be filled "with horses and charioteers, with warriors and all kinds of soldiers" (39:20). They shall eat the remains of the forces of Gog, and peace will be restored to a cleansed world.
Before launching into his vision of the new temple—chapters 40-42--Ezekiel makes a summary of all that he has already said. God judges Israel for its sins in order to show forth his glory and "display [his] holiness in the sight of many nations (39:27); then for the same reason he restores Israel and re-establishes the house of David. When they are brought back from the places where they have been scattered, the people shall forget their shame and live securely. He will leave none of them behind, he will gather them all to the Holy Land, and he will "pour our [his life-giving] spirit upon the house of Israel" (39:29), giving to its dry bones both physical and spiritual life in abundance.

Day 250. Ezekiel 34-36

2011-02-23T17:55:00.001-08:00

The prophets of the Old Testament are united in their fierce condemnation of the Israelite leadership for its callous exploitation of the poor. In this oracle Ezekiel uses allegorical language to denounce the "false shepherds"—the royal establishment and the priesthood--for "feeding themselves" rather than feeding their sheep (34:2). They have not nurtured the flock, but "with force and harshness they have ruled" and oppressed them (34:4). It is the fault of the shepherds that the people are scattered and become prey to wild animals—those foreign armies who have "devoured" them. It is because of their neglect that the LORD is "against the shepherds" (34:10), and has determined to "rescue [his] sheep from their mouths."
In the coming new dispensation, the LORD will take upon himself the duties of the shepherd—he will rule the nation as a theocracy. He will search out his sheep and "rescue them from all the places where they have been scattered on a day of clouds and thick darkness" (34:12). He will "bring them into their own land" and "feed them with good pasture . . . on the mountains of Israel" (32:14). He will be the Good Shepherd to his flock, and "make them lie down" in safety. "He will seek the lost . . . , bring back the strayed . . . , bind up the injured, and . . . strengthen the weak." In short he will nurture and care for his sheep as the house of David should have done. He will establish righteousness as the norm, and he will "feed [his flock] with justice" (34:15-16).
The LORD's special concern is for the weak and the hurt, and he condemns "the fat and the strong." who in the past have used their size and strength to push "with flank and shoulder, and butted at all the weak animals with [their] horns until [they] scattered them far and wide" (34:21). This will not happen anymore. Under the LORD's rule the weak will be protected from the greed of the strong. The LORD will set over them his viceroy, "my servant David" with authority to "feed them and be their shepherd" (34:23), but answerable directly to God. The re-established house of David will reign under stricter oversight, and the ruler of Israel is called "a prince among them" (34:24)—not a king. The LORD will be their king.
And as king, God will extend his peaceable rule to the natural world. Wild animals and all other dangers will be banished. The rains will come regularly, and the children of Israel will be provided with "a splendid vegetation so they shall no more be consumed with hunger in the land" (34:29). And based upon these promises, the LORD renews his claim upon this people—"You are my sheep, the sheep of my pasture and I am your God, says the LORD GOD" (34:31).
The "ancient enmity" (35:5) between Israel and the land of Edom goes back to the earliest memories of both peoples. The Book of Genesis tells how the twins Jacob and Esau struggled even in their mother's womb (25:27-34). Esau's descendents are the Edomites, who are symbolized in our reading as Mount Seir, the highest eminence in the country. They nourished an active hatred of Israel, their distant cousins, and apparently played a treacherous role in the fall of Jerusalem (35:5). Therefore the LORD is "against" them, and he is determined to oppose them until their land is "a perpetual desolation" (35:9). Apparently Edom had entertained opportunistic ambitions of annexing "these two nations and these two countries" (35:10)—Israel and Judah--while they lay desolate and empty after the ravages of war and invasion. But the Land belongs to the LORD, and it is the birthright of his people. Edom will be dealt with "according to the anger
and envy that [they] showed because of [their] hatred against" Israel (35:11). Their hatred will be turned upon themselves. "Thus says the LORD GOD: As you rejoiced over the inheritance of the house of Israel, because it was desolate, so will I deal with you; you shall be desolate, Mount Seir, and all Edom, all of it" (34:15).
Now the LORD turns to the "mountains of Israel" (35:1) and tells them of Edom's plan to make "the ancient heights" their "possession" (36:2). The mountains stand for the land itself, and they belong to the LORD, who speaks "in [his] hot jealousy against the rest of the nations," who have expressed "whole-hearted joy" at Judah's downfall and have seized the opportunity to take possession "of its pasture" and "to plunder it" (35:5). The LORD tells the mountains—"I swear that the nations all around you shall themselves suffer insults" (35:7). But the mountains are instructed to "yield fruit" because the people of Israel "shall soon come home" to them (36:8). The mountains shall "be inhabited as in former times" (35:11) and filled with new life, and they—and by extension the land itself—shall no longer "devour [its] people" or "bereave [them of their] children" (35:13). The land shall work with
them and not against them.
Israel when it inhabited the land defiled it with its sins. In the sight of God, their behavior "was like the uncleanness of a women in her menstrual period" (35:18). According to the law of Moses menstrual blood not only made a woman impure during her period, but it also rendered anyone who touched her unclean. This magical idea about menstruation was related to the widely-held belief in the sacredness of blood as the source of life. By its sinfulness the people Israel had become the LORD's unclean wife. This condition continued even when they were exiles "among the nations"—they continued to disgrace him. But in spite of their impure behavior God announces his intention to restore Israel for the sake "of his holy name"—not because of their merits, because he has promised to be faithful to his people, and he always keeps his promises. He must do so—it is his nature.
It isn't for his people's sake that now God "is about to act," it is for the sake of his "great name"—so that his honor, which has been profaned before the nations, might be restored. So he will "sprinkle clean water upon" Israel, and they shall be made "clean from all [their] uncleannesses" (36:25). But the change he will effect will be in no way superficial--God will work a complete spiritual and moral transformation in his people—he will "put [his] spirit within [them], and make [them] follow [his] statutes and be careful to observe [his] ordinances" (36:27). The people will remember their past and "be ashamed and dismayed for [their] ways" (36:32). Then in response to their change of heart, the land will also undergo a complete alteration—what was desolate shall "become like the garden of Eden" (36:35). And in the once empty and ruined towns the people shall be "like the flock for sacrifices, like the flock at
Jerusalem during her appointed festivals" (36:38), a flock both abundant and unblemished.

Day 249. Ezekiel 32-33

2011-02-22T17:23:00.001-08:00

The prophet Ezekiel is a singularly fascinating individual; he stands out even among the prophets of ancient Israel, who make an interesting set, to say the least. In his prophecies he defers completely to the word of the LORD. He never presumes to speak for himself, but always puts himself in the submissive role as the passive mouthpiece of God. Yet Ezekiel is in his own right a splendid poet, an actor and a mime, and a brilliant visionary—arguably the greatest dreamer of dreams in all of scripture. Our reading for today contains the last two of his seven oracles against Egypt, both neatly dated for our benefit.
Oracle 6 March 3, 585 B.C.
This "lamentation" over Egypt is intended as a global dirge to be "chanted." God commands that "the women of the nations shall chant it" (32:16). The whole world is called to witness the drama of its fall and to contemplate its meaning. In the very near future Egypt will fall "by the swords of mighty ones, all of them most terrible among the nations" (32:12)—the Babylonian army. The pharaoh, who considers himself "a lion among the nations," will instead prove to be a dragon—this time a sea serpent, not a Nile crocodile (29:3)—over which the LORD "will throw [his] net." He will "haul [Pharaoh] up with [his] dragnet" and fling him "on the open field" (32:4) to die. And there his body will be devoured by birds and beasts and his remains will fertilize the whole earth. The downfall of Egypt will take place in the midst of apocalyptic darkness. Creation is being symbolically un-made. When the nations see that the dragon
has been slain, the spectacle will spread confusion over the whole earth. "Kings will shudder" (32:10) when they see how the LORD will use "the sword of the king of Babylon" to "bring to ruin the pride of Egypt" (32:12). By the banks of the Nile, both human beings and animals will perish, and the land will be left depopulated and its waters, with men or beasts to roil then, will be untroubled "like oil" (32:14).
Oracle 7 April 7, 586 B.C.
This passage is interesting because of the light it shines on the developing concept of the afterlife in Judaism. It is a dirge in which Ezekiel, as God's representative, is commanded to send down "the hordes of Egypt" into "the world below." In spite of their "beauty," they are to be "laid to rest among those who go down to the Pit" (32:18). The Pit is visualized as the lowest level of the underworld-- the place where "the uncircumcised"—those who are outside the covenant-- who have been "killed by the sword" go at death. They are consigned to oblivion and utter darkness. Ezekiel contrasts the Pit—the place of those who have died violently-- to "Sheol," the place of the peaceful dead, where "the mighty chiefs" already there say of these latecomers—"They have come down, they lie still, the uncircumcised, killed by the sword" (32:21).
In the Pit lie the "company" of Assyria, "who spread terror in the land of the living" (32:23). The dead of Elam, a nation east of Babylon in modern Iraq (32:24), are there. The "bear their shame with [the rest of those] who go down to the Pit" (32:25). There also are the dead of Meshech and Tubal, long vanished peoples living in Asia Minor; they also are consigned to the Pit, because "they spread terror in the land of the living" (32:26). They are without honor in death. They do not rest like those righteous, respectfully-buried warriors "who went down to Sheol with their weapons of war, whose swords were laid under their heads, and whose shields are upon their bones" (32:27). The dead of Edom, Israel's old enemy are in the Pit, as are "the princes of the north, all of them," together with the Sidonians, "those [who have been] killed by the sword" (32:30). There are so many there in the Pit already that "when Pharaoh sees
them, he will be consoled for all his hordes" who lie there "among the uncircumcised" (32:32). At least they are not alone among such a vast multitude!
With chapter 33 the second phase of Ezekiel's mission begins. And at this juncture the LORD renews the prophet's call to be "a sentinel for the house of Israel" (33:7). He is reminded of a sentinel's responsibility to warn the people if he sees "a sword coming upon the land" (33:2). If Ezekiel faithfully warns Israel of the consequences of their sinfulness and the certainty of God's coming judgment, he himself will be acquitted of responsibility if they fail to heed his warnings. If the sentinel is negligent, the people's "blood [the LORD] will require at the sentinel's hand" (33:6).
God is a just God, doing justice and demanding that justice be done. But here, as the fall of Jerusalem becomes imminent certainty, God again reminds his people through his prophet that he has "no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from their ways and live" (33:11). Each person is responsible individually before God—no one can claim another's righteousness or be punished for another's sin. Furthermore, if the wicked repent and change the direction of their lives—"give back what they have taken by robbery, and walk in the statutes of life, committing no iniquity"—they will surely live and not die (33:15). God is not only able to forgive their sins but also to forget them—"none of the sins that they have committed shall be remembered against them," says the LORD of those who repent (33:16). So Israel cannot say—as some apparently had--that "the way of the LORD is not just"—it is not only just but
also merciful and forgiving (33:20).
As was promised on January 19, 585 B.C. a lone survivor newly arrived in Babylon came to tell Ezekiel-- "The city [of Jerusalem] has fallen" (33:21). Ezekiel says that he had felt the LORD's presence in a particular way "the evening before the fugitive came. He had apparently been unable to speak for some period of time, perhaps since his wife had died. But "by the time the fugitive came to [him] in the morning, his mouth was opened, and he is "no longer unable to speak" (33:22).
And the first words he is given by the LORD are addressed to those who remain in "the waste places" in Judah after the destruction of Jerusalem. They are claiming the land for their own by right of possession. But Ezekiel is called to remind them of their sins which have caused Jerusalem's destruction. When they have lived flagrantly contrary to his Law, the LORD asks them—"shall you then possess the land?" (33:26). God's answer is no. He has determined that those who remain "in the field" will be "devoured by wild animals and those in the strongholds and in caves shall die by pestilence" (33:27). The whole land will be a desolate waste "because of all their abominations that they have committed" (33:29).
The prophet Ezekiel was certainly a fascinating individual—enthralling to listen to—so enthralling that people apparently did not take him quite seriously. They sat before him listing in rapt attention as he spoke the words of the LORD in the most colorful language, but "they will not obey them" (33:31). For them the prophet was a poet, "a singer of love songs, one who has a beautiful voice and plays well on an instrument" (33:32). They heard the beautiful words, but were not changed by them. Now the LORD warns what "when this comes—and come it will!—then they shall know that a prophet has been among them" (33:33), not just a singer of love songs.

Day 248 Ezekiel 29-31

2011-02-20T11:29:00.001-08:00

The following chapters—29-32—contain seven oracles against Egypt and its pharaoh, each of the dated—quite a remarkable thing, actually.
Oracle 1 –dated January 7, 587 B.C.
Here "Pharaoh King of Egypt" is compared a "dragon"—probably a Nile crocodile. He says, "My Nile is my own; I made it for myself" (29:3), intimating that he is himself a god, capable of creating. The pharaoh did claim for themselves divine precedents. But we know that LORD's level of toleration for presumption is zero. Idols, especially human ones, must be dealt with summarily. With him, it is a point of honor. So he promises that he will draw the crocodile pharaoh out of the Nile "with the fish of [his] channels"—his people—"sticking to his scales" (29:4). And he "will fling [the carcass of the dragon] into the wilderness" with his fish to rot there (29:5). The ancient Egyptians attached inordinate importance to the careful preparation and burial of the dead. The bodies of Egyptian pharaohs were meticulously prepared for burial and interred with sumptuous grave goods. But this pharaoh—his throne name is Hophra--will
"fall in the open field, and not be gathered or buried" (29:5). The carrion foul will devour his body—a terrible thing for the Egyptians because it meant that he would wander as a homeless ghost for all eternity.
Searching for some relief from the humiliating position in which found himself, King Zedekiah of Judah had attempted to make an alliance with Egypt against the crushing power of Babylon, but now Israel will realize—rather too late--that pharaoh was "a staff of reed" (29:6). The LORD is the only ally upon whom Israel can ultimately depend. Now because Pharaoh vaunted himself as a god, Egypt shall be conquered and depopulated for forty years (29:11)—just as Judah will be. Only then will the LORD gather the Egyptians from the nations, just as he will gather the people of Judah from their exile in Babylon. Then he will "restore the fortunes of Egypt, and bring them back to the land of Pathros" (29:14)—this is another name of southern Egypt, so-called upper Egypt. But Egypt will never again be a major player in world affairs, and it shall "never again be the reliance of the house of Israel. When Israel is restored it shall repent of the
idolatry of depending upon foreign powers and rely only upon the LORD GOD (29:16).
Oracle 2—April 26, 571 B.C.
This is the latest of Ezekiel's oracles—the date establishes it as such. In it the LORD informs the prophet what is indeed the case—though Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon has "made his army labor hard against Tyre" (29:18), he has failed to take the city. It is great news for Tyre but bad for Egypt, because as compensation the LORD has given the Babylonian king the rich land of Egypt and its spoil—"it shall be wages for his army" (29:19). The last verse reaches toward a future in which the kingdom of Israel will be restored. "On that day," the LORD says, "I will cause a horn to sprout up for the house of Israel" (29:21). In the language of apocalyptic literature horns are symbols of power. This "horn" undoubtedly refers to a future king from the house of David who will return from exile to reign in the land of promise.
Oracle 3—This oracle against Egypt is undated
The prophet bids his hearers lament the coming destruction of mighty Egypt. The "day of the LORD is near," says the LORD(30:3)—"the Day" will be a "time of doom" when the LORD will step into human affairs take a direct role in history; then old scores will be settled and wrong will be made right. On that day the people of Egypt shall fall by the sword "from Migdol to Syene"—from the far northern terminus of the Nile to the borders of Ethiopia. Nebuchadnezzar as the LORD's agent will scour the whole country from one end to the other, even terrifying "the unsuspecting Ethiopians" (30:9) in the far south. The Babylonian invaders will destroy the principal Egyptian cities—they are named in our text-- each with its own particular proprietary god or goddess. Using the Babylonians as his mercenaries, the LORD is making war on the gods of Egypt. He "will destroy the idols and put an end to the images" (30:13), so that the
Egyptians—and all the earth-- will "know that [he is] he LORD" (30:19)—and that their goofy gods amount to nothing.
Oracle 4 April 29, 587 B.C.
Honoring his alliance with the Judean king Zedekiah, the Pharaoh Hophra sent a force on unknown size against the Babylonian besiegers in order to relieve Jerusalem. We are not told anything about the battle, only that Egypt was defeated, and the LORD proclaims that he has "broken the arm of Pharaoh king of Egypt." Apparently he will not try to help Judah again because the broken arm will not "be bound up for healing or wrapped in a bandage, so that it may become strong enough to wield the sword" (30:21). His failure seals Zedekiah's doom. God is working against the pharaoh of Egypt and for the king of Babylon, who is in turn working for the LORD in order that he may "scatter the Egyptians among the nations and disperse them throughout the countries" (30:26), and send his people into exile in Babylon.
Oracle 5 June 21, 587 B.C.
Here Egypt is compared with Assyria, which has also been destroyed by the power of Babylon. Assyria is compared to "a cedar of Lebanon" (31:3); these trees remarkable in the ancient world for their great height and beauty. The Assyrian tree is of truly mythic proportions—"its top [is] among the clouds" and its roots are watered by the primordial deep (31:4). It was so great that "in its shade all great nations lived" (31:6)—it overshadowed the whole world in its time. No tree "in the garden of God could . . . rival it" (31:8), nor could any equal it in beauty (31:8). It was "the envy of all the trees of Eden" (31:9).
Yet the tree was too proud of its height and beauty for its own good, and so the LORD "gave it into the hand of the prince of the nations (Babylon); he has dealt with it as its wickedness deserves" (31:11). He has cast it down. It lies ruined and dismembered on the mountains, and "all the peoples of the earth [have gone] away from its shade and left it" (31:12). In this allegory there is a lesson to all nation-states in all times; it goes to show that "no tree" may grow to such a "lofty height," that its top is "among the clouds." Pride in nations as in men is always punished by destruction. "All of them"—nations and empires—"are handed over to death, to the world below, along with all mortals, with those who go down to the Pit" (31:14). Nations are like human beings—their lives, though longer than ours, do end. When Assyria fell, "all the trees of Eden" who mourned its fall went down to Sheol"—the underworld,
the realm of the dead—"with it" (31:17).
Egypt is a great cedar too, surely as great as Assyria—"Which among the trees of Eden [is] like you in glory and in greatness?" asks the LORD (31:18). But now Egypt will also be brought down to "lie among the uncircumcised," (31:18), with those outside God's covenant people, who are nothing more than carrion and crows' meat. "Pharaoh and his horde"--like Assyria and its king--will fall into oblivion, together with all nations who put their heads in the cloud and dream of their own immortality.