2 SAMUEL 2
So, now that Saul is dead, it’s time for David to ascend to the throne of Israel, right? He even asks the Lord what the next step is, and the Lord tells him to go to Hebron (vs 1). David has been waiting so long... you can almost sense his relief and enthusiasm as he addresses the men who had been loyal to Saul and praises them for all their service to the Lord’s anointed.
Photo © Unsplash/R. Martinez
Once you’ve traded
freedom
for
security,
it’s nearly impossible
to break out of those
ever-tightening chains.
More and more threats
to your security
are met with
more and more restrictions
on your freedom,
until you’re happy to do
whatever you’re told
whenever you’re told
whatever the cost
as long as
you’re still alive.
That is,
if you can call that
a life.
1 SAMUEL 8
Talking about politics these days can ruffle a few feathers, so it’s a topic I try to stay away from on the blog. (Besides, this isn’t a blog about politics. It’s a blog about God.) However, I couldn’t help but notice what I believe is an important (albeit politically-related) lesson about 1 Samuel 8.
JUDGES 21
You might think that’s a funny title to describe a chapter of the Bible in which God never speaks. But, for me, that’s precisely the point, so I thought we’d get right to the point today. Did you notice God’s lack of participation in the dialogue of this chapter? The Israelites were asking a lot of questions, but they never received an answer.
Perhaps Jesus said the Kingdom was for children
because children accept their lot in life.
Often, they don't know any different
and even if they did,
what can they do about it?
Children accept
and try to find ways of being content.
Adults, on the other hand,
have learned better?
and have trouble accepting
what they don't want or can't understand.
Er wouldn't accept a mantle of morality.
Onan wouldn't accept a surrogate's role.
Judah wouldn't accept the position of widower.
Shelah wouldn't accept his brothers' leftovers.
Tamar wouldn't accept childless singlehood.
It's no wonder, then, that
centuries later,
Mary is called "favored of God"
and chosen as the one
to bear the burden of raising the Savior.
For how many people—
even in the very pages of sacred Scripture—
ever responded
to what they didn't want or couldn't understand
by saying
Let it be to me according to your will?
We so idolize those who
won't acquiesce
refuse to bow down
fight back
stick it to the man
get angry
that we are blind
to the holiness that comes with
accepting the lot we wouldn't choose—
if only it were up to us.
Rachel is a cautionary tale
for every woman
who dreams of having
a baby.
Rachel is a reminder—
just the first in a long, tragic history of reminders—
that choosing to have a child
is dangerous business.
Having a child can kill you.
. . .
No, having a child will kill you.
The day you give birth
may not be the last day you draw breath,
but you will, at the very least,
wish you were dead
four hundred times
in the first three months alone.
And though you may not realize it immediately,
the woman you were
before that first peculiar cry cleaved the air
is dead and gone—
she will not be seen again.
The woman who emerges in her place
will have a different sort of heart,
one that is permanently divided—
half of it still inside,
half of it rolling, then crawling, then walking around on two legs,
forever on the outside.
She will have a different sort of heart,
one that can be irreparably ruptured by the beautiful moments
as well as the ugly ones,
one that is no longer impervious to indifference or animus,
one that is no longer her own.
Choosing to have a child is dangerous business.
To make a child in your own image
is to relinquish control of your heart to another being
who may or may not
cherish it.
To make a child in your own image
is to abandon personal rights
for the hope of relationship.
To make a child in your own image
is the genesis of unending sacrifice.
Just ask Rachel.
. . .
Or God.
JOSHUA 7
There is a term in this chapter of Joshua that keeps popping up in the Old Testament—something that I have a lot of questions about. It is the Hebrew word charam. In many Bible versions, when a text includes this word, there will be a footnote at the bottom to explain that "The Hebrew term refers to the irrevocable giving over of things or persons to the Lord, often by totally destroying them." In the Hebrew lexicon, the word can mean to consecrate, to devote, to forfeit, to utterly destroy.
Photo © Unsplash/Yoann Boyer
God said
I am your God, and I am with you.
Jacob replied
If God will be with me, then he will be my God.
This, this!
is the human problem—
Always adding doubt to God's steadfast recipes.
Always placing conditions on God's unconditional offers.
Always suggesting a coalitional approach to God's unilateral operations.
Photo © Unsplash/Denys Nevozhai
You promised Abraham blessings galore,
Progeny more than the sand on the shore.
Still, he was worried he might come across
Someone with power to turn gain to loss.
So he embarked on a self-serving plan:
Impersonating an unmarried man.
I know I'm prone to a similar skew,
Trying to pull off what you said you'd do.
It shouldn't matter if life remains rough.
All of your promises should be enough.
I should be willing to stay on my knees
And let you work out your plan as you please.
Help me to trust you beyond what I see
And not to fear what the outcome will be.
Sonnet: A poem consisting of 14 lines with a particular rhyming scheme.
EXODUS 10
I know I’ve read the stories of the plagues in detail at least a dozen times in my adult life. But as I write these daily blogs, I am once again struck by Pharaoh’s audacity. Once again, in chapter 10, it’s his officials who are trying to talk some sense into him: "Pharaoh’s officials said to him, 'How long will this man be a snare to us? Let the people go, so that they may worship the Lord their God. Do you not yet realize that Egypt is ruined?'" (vs 7)
