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In Zechariah 11:4-17, God gives Zechariah an assignment: he is to play a shepherd who ditches his flock. Zechariah gets upset at three of his shepherd co-workers, so he decides to abandon the flock to slaughter. He breaks two staffs, called Unity and Favor. Breaking the staff of Favor represents annulling the covenant with the peoples, and breaking Unity symbolizes dissolving the family ties between Israel and Judah. When the shepherd goes to get his wages, he receives thirty pieces of silver, which is the price of a slave (Exodus 21:32). The price is called "lordly" and "goodly," depending on the translation that you use (here, the NRSV and KJV, respectively), but that is probably sarcasm.
So who's the shepherd supposed to represent? Who is Zechariah playing in this skit? Most commentators say that the shepherd is God. And that interpretation is reasonable, for v 6 says:
"For I will no longer have pity on the inhabitants of the earth, says the LORD. I will cause them, every one, to fall each into the hand of a neighbor, and each into the hand of the king; and they shall devastate the earth, and I will deliver no one from their hand."
Zechariah seems to be imitating God in the sense that he abandons the flock, as God says he (God) will do.
But there are things about this interpretation that don't sit well with me. Why would God get upset at being paid thirty pieces of silver? The shepherd left his flock. He's a bad shepherd! He doesn't deserve more money.
Vv 4-5 say: "Thus said the LORD my God: Be a shepherd of the flock doomed to slaughter. Those who buy them kill them and go unpunished; and those who sell them say, 'Blessed be the LORD, for I have become rich'; and their own shepherds have no pity on them" (NRSV).
God stresses that the people who buy the sheep go unpunished. Is he saying that they should be punished? Do I detect some moral outrage here? That would fit what God says elsewhere about bad shepherds (Jeremiah 12:10-11; 23:1-8; Ezekiel 34). As a matter of fact, look at what Zechariah (or, more precisely, Second Zechariah) states about shepherds and the flock of Judah--in the previous chapter: "My anger is hot against the shepherds, and I will punish the leaders; for the LORD of hosts cares for his flock, the house of Judah, and will make them like his proud war-horse." God cares about his flock. Much of Zechariah 10 is about God's compassion for Israel. Is he the type who would ditch his people and expect a good payment as a reward?
Vv 16-17 are interesting: "For I am now raising up in the land a shepherd who does not care for the perishing, or seek the wandering, or heal the maimed, or nourish the healthy, but devours the flesh of the fat ones, tearing off even their hoofs. Oh, my worthless shepherd, who deserts the flock! May the sword strike his arm and his right eye! Let his arm be completely withered, his right eye utterly blinded!"
One can interpret this to mean that Israel has lightly esteemed God as their shepherd, and so God will send them a bad shepherd who doesn't care about her. That makes some sense. But v 17 calls a shepherd who deserts his flock "worthless." Does God condemn himself when he says that, assuming that he is the shepherd who deserts his flock in vv 4-14?
Could vv 4-14 refer to a bad shepherd, which means a bad leader of Israel? Such a shepherd doesn't care about his flock. He competes with other shepherds for power and prestige. He doesn't care about the unity between Israel and Judah. The bad shepherd is not concerned about the covenant, which includes his responsibility before God to shepherd Israel.
That fits much of Israel's history. Shepherds competed against each other for power, as Northern Israel had a lot of dynasties, assassinations, and power plays. The actions of Israel's leaders led to disunity between Northern Israel and Judah. Rehoboam's stubborn hunger for power influenced Northern Israel to secede, and Jeroboam resorted to idolatry to keep North and South separated.
Such a shepherd does so poor of a job, that thirty pieces of silver are too generous of a payment for him.
I will admit that v 6 makes my interpretation somewhat problematic. My argument relates vv 4-14 to Israel's bad leaders throughout history, not to God, whereas v 6 says that God will ditch the flock. But maybe that just means that God will punish Israel and her bad shepherds, not that he himself lacks concern for his flock. After all, divine punishment sets the stage for Israel to receive good shepherds, for a change.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Odds and Ends
I finished the Book of Malachi yesterday, and I am going on to the Book of Matthew. But my blogging plan over the next few days is to write some more about the prophets.
There are times when I have a fertile mind. "Maybe I should write a post about this, and this, and this," I think. And I write down some of those topics in a notebook for future reference. And then there are other times, like right now, when my mind is rather barren. So my solution in my dry time is to write about some of the topics that I jotted down in my notebook during my fertile times.
But I want to make one thing clear: I'm not willing to die over what I write. Some of these topics made sense to me when I first thought them up, but they don't as much right now. Still, I feel there is enough value to them to write some kind of post. But the post is not going to cover every single base, plus it may look to some (including myself) that I am stretching. So these posts will not be overly academic, but they will take you through my thought processes.
So my first post like this will be on Zechariah 11, which I will write right now.
There are times when I have a fertile mind. "Maybe I should write a post about this, and this, and this," I think. And I write down some of those topics in a notebook for future reference. And then there are other times, like right now, when my mind is rather barren. So my solution in my dry time is to write about some of the topics that I jotted down in my notebook during my fertile times.
But I want to make one thing clear: I'm not willing to die over what I write. Some of these topics made sense to me when I first thought them up, but they don't as much right now. Still, I feel there is enough value to them to write some kind of post. But the post is not going to cover every single base, plus it may look to some (including myself) that I am stretching. So these posts will not be overly academic, but they will take you through my thought processes.
So my first post like this will be on Zechariah 11, which I will write right now.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Reflections on Malachi
For my daily quiet time this morning, I was meditating on Malachi 3:16: "Then those who revered the LORD spoke with one another. The LORD took note and listened, and a book of remembrance was written before him of those who revered the LORD and thought on his name" (NRSV).
I've heard pastors use this verse to club introverts over the head. "You're supposed to fellowship with other believers. After all, Malachi says that those who revered the LORD spoke often with one another. So who cares if you're an introvert? God wants you to be a super-happy extrovert."
But, today, I want to look beyond whatever hurt this verse (or, rather, a certain application of it) has caused me and look at how it helps me understand the entire book of Malachi. Also, this morning's quiet time has shed some light on another issue that has troubled me over the years.
Why does Malachi emphasize that those who revered the LORD spoke often with one another? Like a lot of commentators, I read Malachi 3:16 in light of Malachi 3:13-15:
"You have spoken harsh words against me, says the LORD. Yet you say, 'How have we spoken against you?' You have said, 'It is vain to serve God. What do we profit by keeping his command or by going about as mourners before the LORD of hosts? Now we count the arrogant happy; evildoers not only prosper, but when they put God to the test they escape.'"
Incidentally, this passage has also been used to club me over the head. One time, I was getting into a debate with a Calvinist lady. I was struggling with the problem of evil and the Calvinist portrayal of God, which doesn't exactly present him as all that loving (in my opinion). She replied that Malachi 3:16 applies to people like me: those who question God. She seemed to imply that I should stop asking questions and just have faith.
I then pointed out that there are godly people in the Bible who question God and wrestle with the way he does things. God was about to wipe out Sodom, and Abraham questioned if God would be just to destroy the righteous with the wicked. When God threatened to annihilate Israel because of the Golden Calf incident, Moses disagreed with him. The Psalmist often complains about God's failure to stop evildoers. Don't question? Apparently, there were biblical figures who never heard of that rule.
I've often heard that I should be honest with God, even if that involves expressing my problems with him. When I was growing up in the Armstrongite movement, one preacher I really enjoyed was Ron Dart. He said, "One thing you can say about the Psalmist, it is that his prayer was honest. If you hate God, then you'd might as well tell him, because he already knows." And that is the sort of advice that I'm getting from Philip Yancey's Prayer: Does It Make a Difference?
But here's my struggle: There are times when people in the Bible do question God, and they get punished as a result. For example, in Numbers 13-14, the Israelites weep because there are giants in the land of Canaan and they are reluctant to conquer it. God punishes them with forty years in the wilderness and the promise that they will never see the land. "But not everybody has strong faith," I thought. "I'd be scared too! What was wrong with them being honest with God about their fears? Aren't we supposed to be honest?"
And, in Malachi, God expresses clear disapproval with what many Israelites are saying. "God doesn't love me." "There's no point to serving God." "God gives the wicked a free ride." But weren't they just being honest, like the Psalmist? Not everyone has pious thoughts and feelings.
The problem in both cases was that the impious thoughts were leading to impious deeds. The Psalmist may have struggled with God, but he remained committed to righteousness. He also had some hope that his prayers would move God to act, or at least alter his (the Psalmist's) attitude in a righteous direction. But the wilderness generation and the Israelites of Malachi's day were succumbing to total despair, with the result that they were ditching God. The Israelites of the wilderness generation were eager to abandon God's very purpose for their lives, for they were gathering up a captain to lead them back into Egypt. And the Israelites of Malachi's day were putting themselves ahead of God. The priests took the best meat for themselves, while giving God the defective animals. The Israelites did not give God their tithes and their offerings. They also were leaving their Israelite spouses to go after idolatrous foreign women. And sorcery, adultery, lying, and oppression of the weak were rampant throughout the land.
There is a difference between having a faith that struggles and seeks understanding, and not having faith at all. When questioning God leads to utter faithlessness or immorality, then it becomes problematic.
Where am I in all of this? My readers probably know that I have a lot of questions about evangelical Christianity, not to mention a significant amount of bitterness against it. The Israelites of Malachi's day were becoming lax in their service of God, and I will admit that I am rather lax as well. I am not active in church activities. I don't belong to an evangelical small group. I no longer participate in campus Christian events.
But, to be honest, I didn't really enjoy these things when I was doing them. Sure, I liked a lot of the people in the churches and small groups that I attended. But I wasn't that big on participating in all these activities. When I was at Harvard, I helped organize this Praise Night. I hated doing that. I preferred to stay at home and read my devotional literature.
Do I witness? Well, it depends on what you mean by "witnessing." I no longer tell people, "If you don't believe in Jesus, then you will go to hell." I don't act as if my Christian faith is perfect, like I have no struggles with it whatsoever. Sure, there is biblical justification for that form of evangelism, but I can't pretend anymore. I'm tired of reading a script. But I do witness in this sense: I am on a spiritual journey, and I share that journey with other people. There are many times when I do this on my blog, since I have difficulties in my personal interaction with others. But I have also done so on a more personal level. My spiritual journey consists of this: I try to believe in a loving God who is continually working on me. God wants me to have love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, generosity, faith, and all sorts of other positive attributes. I still have a long way to go, but God offers me encouragement and wisdom on my journey. And there may be times when he gives me some nugget that can help somebody else.
And there may be times when God wants me to step outside of my comfort zone. At this one meeting that I attend, I always have to chair. I walk in, and there is the notebook sitting right in front of where I normally sit. I think, "Man! I don't want to do this!" And the people there know that I don't want to do it. I'd much rather sit in the background and listen to others talk. But I don't really serve at the meeting in any other way (e.g., making coffee), and so I'd might as well do it. I don't like doing it, but it is an opportunity to serve.
But this is God gently pushing me into an activity. It's not me feeling that I have to be a total extrovert and activist on a 24-7 basis, as some preachers seem to assume. I'm not asking "What would Jesus do?" as if I always have to be perfect. Rather, God is helping me to grow, and I am cooperating with what he is doing. My cooperation is sometimes good, sometimes not so good. But God will not give up on me, and that gives me assurance.
And that's the difference between me and those who totally ditch God: I thirst for God and the life that he offers. I just get impatient with him and life. But I crave inner peace and the attributes that God wants me to have.
Of course, I need to make sure that my grumbling against God does not lead to ditching him totally. But, at the moment, I am like the Psalmist in the sense that I desire God's love and favor, even while I am complaining against him.
Let's come back now to Malachi 3:16. Israelite society is saying that there is no point to serving God, since God doesn't care for people anyway. The result is selfishness and immorality throughout the land. But God's people continually tell each other that serving God has its rewards. They say that God is loving and notices all of the good things that the righteous are doing, as well as their avoidance of moral evil (which is difficult in a sinful society). They encourage one another in the faith.
I've been blessed by people who have encouraged me in the faith, who tell me that God loves me and has a plan for my life. I have problems doing that myself, but there is one thing I can do if I don't feel like making pious statements: I can pray for other people. Prayer is actually making a statement about God. It says that he exists, and that there's a good chance he loves us enough to listen and answer. Prayer, even prayer that rants and raves, contains some basis of faith.
I've heard pastors use this verse to club introverts over the head. "You're supposed to fellowship with other believers. After all, Malachi says that those who revered the LORD spoke often with one another. So who cares if you're an introvert? God wants you to be a super-happy extrovert."
But, today, I want to look beyond whatever hurt this verse (or, rather, a certain application of it) has caused me and look at how it helps me understand the entire book of Malachi. Also, this morning's quiet time has shed some light on another issue that has troubled me over the years.
Why does Malachi emphasize that those who revered the LORD spoke often with one another? Like a lot of commentators, I read Malachi 3:16 in light of Malachi 3:13-15:
"You have spoken harsh words against me, says the LORD. Yet you say, 'How have we spoken against you?' You have said, 'It is vain to serve God. What do we profit by keeping his command or by going about as mourners before the LORD of hosts? Now we count the arrogant happy; evildoers not only prosper, but when they put God to the test they escape.'"
Incidentally, this passage has also been used to club me over the head. One time, I was getting into a debate with a Calvinist lady. I was struggling with the problem of evil and the Calvinist portrayal of God, which doesn't exactly present him as all that loving (in my opinion). She replied that Malachi 3:16 applies to people like me: those who question God. She seemed to imply that I should stop asking questions and just have faith.
I then pointed out that there are godly people in the Bible who question God and wrestle with the way he does things. God was about to wipe out Sodom, and Abraham questioned if God would be just to destroy the righteous with the wicked. When God threatened to annihilate Israel because of the Golden Calf incident, Moses disagreed with him. The Psalmist often complains about God's failure to stop evildoers. Don't question? Apparently, there were biblical figures who never heard of that rule.
I've often heard that I should be honest with God, even if that involves expressing my problems with him. When I was growing up in the Armstrongite movement, one preacher I really enjoyed was Ron Dart. He said, "One thing you can say about the Psalmist, it is that his prayer was honest. If you hate God, then you'd might as well tell him, because he already knows." And that is the sort of advice that I'm getting from Philip Yancey's Prayer: Does It Make a Difference?
But here's my struggle: There are times when people in the Bible do question God, and they get punished as a result. For example, in Numbers 13-14, the Israelites weep because there are giants in the land of Canaan and they are reluctant to conquer it. God punishes them with forty years in the wilderness and the promise that they will never see the land. "But not everybody has strong faith," I thought. "I'd be scared too! What was wrong with them being honest with God about their fears? Aren't we supposed to be honest?"
And, in Malachi, God expresses clear disapproval with what many Israelites are saying. "God doesn't love me." "There's no point to serving God." "God gives the wicked a free ride." But weren't they just being honest, like the Psalmist? Not everyone has pious thoughts and feelings.
The problem in both cases was that the impious thoughts were leading to impious deeds. The Psalmist may have struggled with God, but he remained committed to righteousness. He also had some hope that his prayers would move God to act, or at least alter his (the Psalmist's) attitude in a righteous direction. But the wilderness generation and the Israelites of Malachi's day were succumbing to total despair, with the result that they were ditching God. The Israelites of the wilderness generation were eager to abandon God's very purpose for their lives, for they were gathering up a captain to lead them back into Egypt. And the Israelites of Malachi's day were putting themselves ahead of God. The priests took the best meat for themselves, while giving God the defective animals. The Israelites did not give God their tithes and their offerings. They also were leaving their Israelite spouses to go after idolatrous foreign women. And sorcery, adultery, lying, and oppression of the weak were rampant throughout the land.
There is a difference between having a faith that struggles and seeks understanding, and not having faith at all. When questioning God leads to utter faithlessness or immorality, then it becomes problematic.
Where am I in all of this? My readers probably know that I have a lot of questions about evangelical Christianity, not to mention a significant amount of bitterness against it. The Israelites of Malachi's day were becoming lax in their service of God, and I will admit that I am rather lax as well. I am not active in church activities. I don't belong to an evangelical small group. I no longer participate in campus Christian events.
But, to be honest, I didn't really enjoy these things when I was doing them. Sure, I liked a lot of the people in the churches and small groups that I attended. But I wasn't that big on participating in all these activities. When I was at Harvard, I helped organize this Praise Night. I hated doing that. I preferred to stay at home and read my devotional literature.
Do I witness? Well, it depends on what you mean by "witnessing." I no longer tell people, "If you don't believe in Jesus, then you will go to hell." I don't act as if my Christian faith is perfect, like I have no struggles with it whatsoever. Sure, there is biblical justification for that form of evangelism, but I can't pretend anymore. I'm tired of reading a script. But I do witness in this sense: I am on a spiritual journey, and I share that journey with other people. There are many times when I do this on my blog, since I have difficulties in my personal interaction with others. But I have also done so on a more personal level. My spiritual journey consists of this: I try to believe in a loving God who is continually working on me. God wants me to have love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, generosity, faith, and all sorts of other positive attributes. I still have a long way to go, but God offers me encouragement and wisdom on my journey. And there may be times when he gives me some nugget that can help somebody else.
And there may be times when God wants me to step outside of my comfort zone. At this one meeting that I attend, I always have to chair. I walk in, and there is the notebook sitting right in front of where I normally sit. I think, "Man! I don't want to do this!" And the people there know that I don't want to do it. I'd much rather sit in the background and listen to others talk. But I don't really serve at the meeting in any other way (e.g., making coffee), and so I'd might as well do it. I don't like doing it, but it is an opportunity to serve.
But this is God gently pushing me into an activity. It's not me feeling that I have to be a total extrovert and activist on a 24-7 basis, as some preachers seem to assume. I'm not asking "What would Jesus do?" as if I always have to be perfect. Rather, God is helping me to grow, and I am cooperating with what he is doing. My cooperation is sometimes good, sometimes not so good. But God will not give up on me, and that gives me assurance.
And that's the difference between me and those who totally ditch God: I thirst for God and the life that he offers. I just get impatient with him and life. But I crave inner peace and the attributes that God wants me to have.
Of course, I need to make sure that my grumbling against God does not lead to ditching him totally. But, at the moment, I am like the Psalmist in the sense that I desire God's love and favor, even while I am complaining against him.
Let's come back now to Malachi 3:16. Israelite society is saying that there is no point to serving God, since God doesn't care for people anyway. The result is selfishness and immorality throughout the land. But God's people continually tell each other that serving God has its rewards. They say that God is loving and notices all of the good things that the righteous are doing, as well as their avoidance of moral evil (which is difficult in a sinful society). They encourage one another in the faith.
I've been blessed by people who have encouraged me in the faith, who tell me that God loves me and has a plan for my life. I have problems doing that myself, but there is one thing I can do if I don't feel like making pious statements: I can pray for other people. Prayer is actually making a statement about God. It says that he exists, and that there's a good chance he loves us enough to listen and answer. Prayer, even prayer that rants and raves, contains some basis of faith.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Why Didn't God Do It Right the First Time?
I haven't written about my weekly quiet time for some time. I'm still in the Book of Joshua. And, since I study a chapter a week, I have five weeks to go.
I studied Joshua 19 last week. What really caught my eye was v 9: "The inheritance of the tribe of Simeon formed part of the territory of Judah; because the portion of the tribe of Judah was too large for them, the tribe of Simeon obtained an inheritance within their inheritance" (NRSV).
Why did the tribe of Judah get more territory than it needed? God's the one giving out the land, is he not? Couldn't he have gotten the division right?
This detail of Joshua 19 reminds me of other things in the book. In Joshua 17:14-18, the tribe of Joseph complains to Joshua about its inheritance. "This amount of land is too small for us," its representatives said. "We're too numerous to live here!" And Joshua told them: "You want more land? Then go get it! A lot of land is still out there for the taking. But you have to take it from the dreadful Canaanites."
Also, in Joshua 19, the author says that the tribe of Dan took Leshem. Judges 18 tells the story more explicitly, and it says that Dan did so because it got no inheritance of its own (v 1). But Joshua 19 states that Dan did get an inheritance: it was near Ephraim and the Shephelah, where the Philistines dwelt. And Judges 18 seems to have knowledge that Dan was there at some point, for v 2 presents Danites in Eshtaol and Zorah, which Joshua 19:41 says that Dan inherited. And so the King James Version tries to clarify Judges 18:1 or to harmonize it with Joshua 19. It renders the passage, "for unto that day all their inheritance had not fallen unto them among the tribes of Israel." "All their" is not in the text, meaning that the KJV translators are supplying it. The implication may be that the Danites did not get all of the inheritance that they should have at the division. And so the translators appear to read Judges 18:1 in light of similar situations in the Book of Joshua: God divided up the land, but, for some reason, the division had problems.
But the problematic division ended up helping people. Judah had an opportunity to share land with Simeon, which became a loyal ally to Judah (Judges 1:3). Judah called Simeon his brother, and the two worked together to defeat the Canaanites. One could ask, "Why didn't God only give Judah the land that it needed? God's obviously not an efficiency expert, here!" Yet, the way God did things gave Judah a chance to be generous and fostered a special bond between two tribes.
Joseph didn't get as much land as it needed, and that gave it a chance to step forward in faith and claim more land for itself. Joseph got an opportunity to dream and to exercise faith amidst seemingly insurmountable challenges. Those Canaanites had chariots, whereas the Israelites did not. But, as Oprah Winfrey once said, "No test, no testimony!" Joseph's bad inheritance allowed it to experience God in ways that it otherwise would not have.
The same goes for Dan, assuming that the KJV translators interpreted Judges 18:1 correctly. But another interesting detail is this: It was good that Dan was not living way up north in the time of the Judges. Because Samson the Danite lived near the Shephelah, he got to beat up on the Philistines, the oppressors of Israel. And Samson really crippled them, especially when he destroyed their house. The Israelites could experience God's salvation in a special way because Samson lived near the Shephelah. Dan was right where it was supposed to be, at the time when it was supposed to be there.
I often wonder why God allows so much inequality. Why does he bless some people with more talents and resources than others? The way God does things may look messy to us, but God can work all out for good. God is interested in our character. He wants to stretch us. If he did everything according to our standard of perfect efficiency, then we'd have no opportunities to grow. We'd also miss out on deeper experiences of him and his goodness.
I studied Joshua 19 last week. What really caught my eye was v 9: "The inheritance of the tribe of Simeon formed part of the territory of Judah; because the portion of the tribe of Judah was too large for them, the tribe of Simeon obtained an inheritance within their inheritance" (NRSV).
Why did the tribe of Judah get more territory than it needed? God's the one giving out the land, is he not? Couldn't he have gotten the division right?
This detail of Joshua 19 reminds me of other things in the book. In Joshua 17:14-18, the tribe of Joseph complains to Joshua about its inheritance. "This amount of land is too small for us," its representatives said. "We're too numerous to live here!" And Joshua told them: "You want more land? Then go get it! A lot of land is still out there for the taking. But you have to take it from the dreadful Canaanites."
Also, in Joshua 19, the author says that the tribe of Dan took Leshem. Judges 18 tells the story more explicitly, and it says that Dan did so because it got no inheritance of its own (v 1). But Joshua 19 states that Dan did get an inheritance: it was near Ephraim and the Shephelah, where the Philistines dwelt. And Judges 18 seems to have knowledge that Dan was there at some point, for v 2 presents Danites in Eshtaol and Zorah, which Joshua 19:41 says that Dan inherited. And so the King James Version tries to clarify Judges 18:1 or to harmonize it with Joshua 19. It renders the passage, "for unto that day all their inheritance had not fallen unto them among the tribes of Israel." "All their" is not in the text, meaning that the KJV translators are supplying it. The implication may be that the Danites did not get all of the inheritance that they should have at the division. And so the translators appear to read Judges 18:1 in light of similar situations in the Book of Joshua: God divided up the land, but, for some reason, the division had problems.
But the problematic division ended up helping people. Judah had an opportunity to share land with Simeon, which became a loyal ally to Judah (Judges 1:3). Judah called Simeon his brother, and the two worked together to defeat the Canaanites. One could ask, "Why didn't God only give Judah the land that it needed? God's obviously not an efficiency expert, here!" Yet, the way God did things gave Judah a chance to be generous and fostered a special bond between two tribes.
Joseph didn't get as much land as it needed, and that gave it a chance to step forward in faith and claim more land for itself. Joseph got an opportunity to dream and to exercise faith amidst seemingly insurmountable challenges. Those Canaanites had chariots, whereas the Israelites did not. But, as Oprah Winfrey once said, "No test, no testimony!" Joseph's bad inheritance allowed it to experience God in ways that it otherwise would not have.
The same goes for Dan, assuming that the KJV translators interpreted Judges 18:1 correctly. But another interesting detail is this: It was good that Dan was not living way up north in the time of the Judges. Because Samson the Danite lived near the Shephelah, he got to beat up on the Philistines, the oppressors of Israel. And Samson really crippled them, especially when he destroyed their house. The Israelites could experience God's salvation in a special way because Samson lived near the Shephelah. Dan was right where it was supposed to be, at the time when it was supposed to be there.
I often wonder why God allows so much inequality. Why does he bless some people with more talents and resources than others? The way God does things may look messy to us, but God can work all out for good. God is interested in our character. He wants to stretch us. If he did everything according to our standard of perfect efficiency, then we'd have no opportunities to grow. We'd also miss out on deeper experiences of him and his goodness.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
My One Problem So Far with Philip Yancey
I may eventually write a book review on Philip Yancey's Prayer: Does It Make a Difference? Nothing for publication, of course. It would mainly be for this blog and perhaps Printnpost and Helium. But there was something I read last night that bugged me.
Let me give you some background. I like Philip Yancey because he is honest about his theological struggles. He really wrestles with the Christian faith, yet he is a firm believer. His books have given me a lot of solace over the years.
Well, I was really enjoying his book on prayer, until I got to page 225:
"I cannot say to my neighbor, 'I love you and enjoy spending time with you, but I hate your stupid dog and keep those bratty kids out of my yard, will you?' How I treat what belongs to my neighbor affects how he receives my love. The same applies to God: how I treat God's creation, God's children, will determine in part how God receives my prayers and my worship."
But I feel this way a lot of times. I try to love God, but I don't care for a lot of Christians. And I don't like everything in the world the way that it is.
Do I like being in that state of mind? No. I wish I were better at loving and accepting people. I wish that I had more peace, with myself and with others. I would certainly feel a lot better if that were the case!
Ordinarily, Philip Yancey advocates being honest with God. That's what I like about most of his book on prayer. He says that we should be transparent. We should tell God how we feel, even if our emotions are not particularly Christ-like. He talks about people who hated God but came to love him after wrestling with him in prayer. He criticizes fake piety--praying about things that we don't care deeply about, yet we feel that we should pray about them to make God happy (e.g., world peace). For Yancey, there are times when we should actually pray about the trivial things that distract us, since that can at least help us identify what's important to us at this stage of our spiritual development. Then, God can speak to us where we are.
In one part of his book, he says he often wonders if he is pure enough to pray. Then, he realizes that he will never become pure if he doesn't pray, and so he prays even though he is not pure. That's pretty much how I look at it.
Yancey also is not overly rigid about prayer. He doesn't say (at least not so far), "You should pray in this exact way, at this exact time." He realizes that people are different, and so approaches to prayer will vary from person to person.
And, in his other books, Yancey has expressed his problems with Christians, particularly the rigid fundamentalist ones he knew in his youth.
So why can't I tell God that I have problems with his kids and his dog? Can't I be honest? Of course I wouldn't say that to my next door neighbor, since my relationship with him or her is rather superficial. But, in a deep relationship--the type that we should be having with God--I should be able to tell him anything, whether or not it is religiously or morally correct. I should let God know where I am.
Let me give you some background. I like Philip Yancey because he is honest about his theological struggles. He really wrestles with the Christian faith, yet he is a firm believer. His books have given me a lot of solace over the years.
Well, I was really enjoying his book on prayer, until I got to page 225:
"I cannot say to my neighbor, 'I love you and enjoy spending time with you, but I hate your stupid dog and keep those bratty kids out of my yard, will you?' How I treat what belongs to my neighbor affects how he receives my love. The same applies to God: how I treat God's creation, God's children, will determine in part how God receives my prayers and my worship."
But I feel this way a lot of times. I try to love God, but I don't care for a lot of Christians. And I don't like everything in the world the way that it is.
Do I like being in that state of mind? No. I wish I were better at loving and accepting people. I wish that I had more peace, with myself and with others. I would certainly feel a lot better if that were the case!
Ordinarily, Philip Yancey advocates being honest with God. That's what I like about most of his book on prayer. He says that we should be transparent. We should tell God how we feel, even if our emotions are not particularly Christ-like. He talks about people who hated God but came to love him after wrestling with him in prayer. He criticizes fake piety--praying about things that we don't care deeply about, yet we feel that we should pray about them to make God happy (e.g., world peace). For Yancey, there are times when we should actually pray about the trivial things that distract us, since that can at least help us identify what's important to us at this stage of our spiritual development. Then, God can speak to us where we are.
In one part of his book, he says he often wonders if he is pure enough to pray. Then, he realizes that he will never become pure if he doesn't pray, and so he prays even though he is not pure. That's pretty much how I look at it.
Yancey also is not overly rigid about prayer. He doesn't say (at least not so far), "You should pray in this exact way, at this exact time." He realizes that people are different, and so approaches to prayer will vary from person to person.
And, in his other books, Yancey has expressed his problems with Christians, particularly the rigid fundamentalist ones he knew in his youth.
So why can't I tell God that I have problems with his kids and his dog? Can't I be honest? Of course I wouldn't say that to my next door neighbor, since my relationship with him or her is rather superficial. But, in a deep relationship--the type that we should be having with God--I should be able to tell him anything, whether or not it is religiously or morally correct. I should let God know where I am.
Two Things That Excite Me
Here are two things that recently got me excited:
1. Last night, I was watching the episode of Little House on the Prairie in which Laura marries Almonzo. There is a character named Harv Miller. He is a friend of Almonzo, whom Almonzo's sister, Eliza Jane, happens to like. Well, Eliza Jane thinks that she likes him, when actually he likes someone else, but Eliza Jane tells everyone that they will get married so that she can leave town and Laura can replace her as Walnut Grove's schoolteacher. Then, Laura and Almonzo will reconcile and live happily ever after (until they blow Walnut Grove up in the last episode, of course).
I've seen this particular episode, called "Laura Ingalls Wilder," over and over again throughout my life. I always liked Harv Miller, since he comes across as a light-hearted, happy type. Well, guess who plays him? James Cromwell. The President on Sum of All Fears. Zeb Cochrane on Star Trek: First Contact. Queen Elizabeth II's husband on The Queen. A prison administrator (or something like that) on Green Mile.
I'd never made the connection! He looked so different when he was younger, probably because he had more hair.
2. Lester Grabbe is a big-time scholar in Hebrew Bible and the Second Temple Period. I'll have to read some of his books as I prepare for my comps. He's practically a legend.
Well, it turns out that he was once associated with the Worldwide Church of God, the denomination that forms a significant part of my religious background. I learned this from the article The same but different, which is on the blog "Ambassador Watch." Cool, isn't it? I always grew up thinking that we were out-of-the-mainstream wierdos, since we didn't keep Christmas and did a lot of strange (but biblical) things that nobody else did. I didn't know that such a big-time scholar was once in the WCG. Well, I always knew that James Tabor came from us, and he's prominent too, but Lester Grabbe?
1. Last night, I was watching the episode of Little House on the Prairie in which Laura marries Almonzo. There is a character named Harv Miller. He is a friend of Almonzo, whom Almonzo's sister, Eliza Jane, happens to like. Well, Eliza Jane thinks that she likes him, when actually he likes someone else, but Eliza Jane tells everyone that they will get married so that she can leave town and Laura can replace her as Walnut Grove's schoolteacher. Then, Laura and Almonzo will reconcile and live happily ever after (until they blow Walnut Grove up in the last episode, of course).
I've seen this particular episode, called "Laura Ingalls Wilder," over and over again throughout my life. I always liked Harv Miller, since he comes across as a light-hearted, happy type. Well, guess who plays him? James Cromwell. The President on Sum of All Fears. Zeb Cochrane on Star Trek: First Contact. Queen Elizabeth II's husband on The Queen. A prison administrator (or something like that) on Green Mile.
I'd never made the connection! He looked so different when he was younger, probably because he had more hair.
2. Lester Grabbe is a big-time scholar in Hebrew Bible and the Second Temple Period. I'll have to read some of his books as I prepare for my comps. He's practically a legend.
Well, it turns out that he was once associated with the Worldwide Church of God, the denomination that forms a significant part of my religious background. I learned this from the article The same but different, which is on the blog "Ambassador Watch." Cool, isn't it? I always grew up thinking that we were out-of-the-mainstream wierdos, since we didn't keep Christmas and did a lot of strange (but biblical) things that nobody else did. I didn't know that such a big-time scholar was once in the WCG. Well, I always knew that James Tabor came from us, and he's prominent too, but Lester Grabbe?
Is Zechariah 14:4 Conditional?
Zechariah 14:4 says the following:
"On that day [God's] feet shall stand on the Mount of Olives, which lies before Jerusalem on the east; and the Mount of Olives shall be split in two from east to west by a very wide valley; so that one half of the Mount shall withdraw northward, and the other half southward" (NRSV).
For a lot of Christians, Zechariah 14:4 is discussing the Second Coming of Jesus Christ.
But ex-Seventh Day Adventist pastor Sydney Cleveland offers a different interpretation. He states in his commentary regarding the verse:
"ON THAT DAY = The book of Zechariah was written 520 years before Christ's first coming. Thus logic indicates the Lord would not skip over the importance of Christ's first coming -- the central point of all history -- to communicate information about Christ's Second Coming. Thus we understand Zechariah to be speaking here about events associated with Christ's first coming. What follows in this prophecy is what would have occurred at His first coming had the Jews accepted Jesus as their Messiah. Instead, when the nations gathered around Jerusalem in 70 A.D. as prophesied in Zechariah 14:2-3, Jerusalem was destroyed because God's saving presence had left the nation of Israel (see notes on Matthew 23:38-39)."
Zechariah 14 mentions all these good things that will happen to Israel, along with all these bad things that will happen to her enemies. According to the passage, God will break the power of Israel's enemies when they attempt to attack her. He will destroy many of them, and the rest he will forcefully convert to the worship of YHWH. All of the surviving Gentile nations will have to keep the Feast of Tabernacles, or they will receive no rain. For Egypt, which doesn't depend on rain because of the Nile, the punishment will be different. For Pastor Cleveland, this is what would have occurred had Israel received Jesus Christ at his first coming.
According to Pastor Cleveland, because of her rejection of Christ, Israel got instead the scenario predicted in Zechariah 13:8: "In the whole land, says the LORD, two-thirds shall be cut off and perish, and one-third shall be left alive." Cleveland states the following about this verse:
"TWO-THIRDS = Fulfillment began in the Jewish war under Vespasian and Titus to suppress the Bar Chochba rebellion, and continued through the following centuries."
Actually, the Bar Chochba rebellion occurred after Vespasian and Titus, but I understand Pastor Cleveland's overall point: He views Zechariah 13:8 and 14:4 as alternatives. If Israel accepts Christ at his first coming, she gets Zechariah 14 (the defeat and conversion of her enemies). If she rejects Christ, she gets Zechariah 13:8 (the Gentile slaughter of two-thirds of Jerusalem). Historically, much of Israel rejected Christ, and so the Romans destroyed Jerusalem. Pastor Cleveland treats Jerusalem's horrible experience in 70 C.E. and thereafter as the fulfillment of Zechariah 13:8.
My problem is that I do not see Zechariah 13:8 and 14:4 as alternatives, but rather as two parts of the same story. God will allow the Gentiles to kill two-thirds of the inhabitants of Jerusalem, while he will preserve one-third. That one-third will be a faithful remnant that will cry out to God amidst much refinement and testing. Then, God will fight Israel's enemies and set into motion the paradisaical conditions of Zechariah 14.
Let's take a look at Zechariah 14:2-3:
"For I will gather all the nations against Jerusalem to battle, and the city shall be taken and the houses plundered and the women ravished; half of the city shall go into exile, but the rest of the people shall not be cut off from the city. Then the LORD will go forth and fight against those nations as when he fights on a day of battle."
God lets the Gentiles have his way with Jerusalem, then God fights the Gentiles. The oppression and deliverance of Jerusalem are two parts of the same story, not alternatives to one another.
But Pastor Cleveland is not getting his interpretation from nowhere. If Israel had accepted Christ at his first coming, would God have set up the paradisaical conditions described by the prophets? There are New Testament passages that seem to indicate this. Jesus says in Luke 13:34-35:
"O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, killing the prophets and stoning those who are sent to you! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you would not! Behold, your house is forsaken. And I tell you, you will not see me until you say, `Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!'"
That passage seems to say the Jerusalem did not have to be destroyed. She could have embraced her shepherd, and then the house wouldn't have been desolate. Does the gathering of the children refer to the ingathering of the Jewish exiles and the deliverance of Jerusalem out of Gentile hands, themes that are prominent in the Hebrew prophets? Possibly so.
Another telling passage is Acts 3:19-21. There, Peter tells several Jews:
"Repent therefore, and turn again, that your sins may be blotted out, that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord, and that he may send the Christ appointed for you, Jesus, whom heaven must receive until the time for establishing all that God spoke by the mouth of his holy prophets from of old."
If Israel had accepted Jesus in the first century, would the Second Coming of Christ have occurred then and there? It appears so.
So Pastor Cleveland's overall scenario appears to be biblical, but I disagree with his application of it to Zechariah 13-14.
"On that day [God's] feet shall stand on the Mount of Olives, which lies before Jerusalem on the east; and the Mount of Olives shall be split in two from east to west by a very wide valley; so that one half of the Mount shall withdraw northward, and the other half southward" (NRSV).
For a lot of Christians, Zechariah 14:4 is discussing the Second Coming of Jesus Christ.
But ex-Seventh Day Adventist pastor Sydney Cleveland offers a different interpretation. He states in his commentary regarding the verse:
"ON THAT DAY = The book of Zechariah was written 520 years before Christ's first coming. Thus logic indicates the Lord would not skip over the importance of Christ's first coming -- the central point of all history -- to communicate information about Christ's Second Coming. Thus we understand Zechariah to be speaking here about events associated with Christ's first coming. What follows in this prophecy is what would have occurred at His first coming had the Jews accepted Jesus as their Messiah. Instead, when the nations gathered around Jerusalem in 70 A.D. as prophesied in Zechariah 14:2-3, Jerusalem was destroyed because God's saving presence had left the nation of Israel (see notes on Matthew 23:38-39)."
Zechariah 14 mentions all these good things that will happen to Israel, along with all these bad things that will happen to her enemies. According to the passage, God will break the power of Israel's enemies when they attempt to attack her. He will destroy many of them, and the rest he will forcefully convert to the worship of YHWH. All of the surviving Gentile nations will have to keep the Feast of Tabernacles, or they will receive no rain. For Egypt, which doesn't depend on rain because of the Nile, the punishment will be different. For Pastor Cleveland, this is what would have occurred had Israel received Jesus Christ at his first coming.
According to Pastor Cleveland, because of her rejection of Christ, Israel got instead the scenario predicted in Zechariah 13:8: "In the whole land, says the LORD, two-thirds shall be cut off and perish, and one-third shall be left alive." Cleveland states the following about this verse:
"TWO-THIRDS = Fulfillment began in the Jewish war under Vespasian and Titus to suppress the Bar Chochba rebellion, and continued through the following centuries."
Actually, the Bar Chochba rebellion occurred after Vespasian and Titus, but I understand Pastor Cleveland's overall point: He views Zechariah 13:8 and 14:4 as alternatives. If Israel accepts Christ at his first coming, she gets Zechariah 14 (the defeat and conversion of her enemies). If she rejects Christ, she gets Zechariah 13:8 (the Gentile slaughter of two-thirds of Jerusalem). Historically, much of Israel rejected Christ, and so the Romans destroyed Jerusalem. Pastor Cleveland treats Jerusalem's horrible experience in 70 C.E. and thereafter as the fulfillment of Zechariah 13:8.
My problem is that I do not see Zechariah 13:8 and 14:4 as alternatives, but rather as two parts of the same story. God will allow the Gentiles to kill two-thirds of the inhabitants of Jerusalem, while he will preserve one-third. That one-third will be a faithful remnant that will cry out to God amidst much refinement and testing. Then, God will fight Israel's enemies and set into motion the paradisaical conditions of Zechariah 14.
Let's take a look at Zechariah 14:2-3:
"For I will gather all the nations against Jerusalem to battle, and the city shall be taken and the houses plundered and the women ravished; half of the city shall go into exile, but the rest of the people shall not be cut off from the city. Then the LORD will go forth and fight against those nations as when he fights on a day of battle."
God lets the Gentiles have his way with Jerusalem, then God fights the Gentiles. The oppression and deliverance of Jerusalem are two parts of the same story, not alternatives to one another.
But Pastor Cleveland is not getting his interpretation from nowhere. If Israel had accepted Christ at his first coming, would God have set up the paradisaical conditions described by the prophets? There are New Testament passages that seem to indicate this. Jesus says in Luke 13:34-35:
"O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, killing the prophets and stoning those who are sent to you! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you would not! Behold, your house is forsaken. And I tell you, you will not see me until you say, `Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!'"
That passage seems to say the Jerusalem did not have to be destroyed. She could have embraced her shepherd, and then the house wouldn't have been desolate. Does the gathering of the children refer to the ingathering of the Jewish exiles and the deliverance of Jerusalem out of Gentile hands, themes that are prominent in the Hebrew prophets? Possibly so.
Another telling passage is Acts 3:19-21. There, Peter tells several Jews:
"Repent therefore, and turn again, that your sins may be blotted out, that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord, and that he may send the Christ appointed for you, Jesus, whom heaven must receive until the time for establishing all that God spoke by the mouth of his holy prophets from of old."
If Israel had accepted Jesus in the first century, would the Second Coming of Christ have occurred then and there? It appears so.
So Pastor Cleveland's overall scenario appears to be biblical, but I disagree with his application of it to Zechariah 13-14.
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