The musings and mutterings of a minister at times captivated by the mystery of the faith.
My name is Jeff and I'm a pastor of a small, local, Christian fellowship
It's a wonderful thing to love your work; to know that when you do it you are doing something that you were born to do. I am so fortunate to be both. I don't say I am the best at what I do. God knows that are so many others who do it better. But I do feel fairly lucky to be called by such a good God to do work I can only do with his help, to be loved by a beautiful woman, and to have a workshop where I can work my craft. These musings of mine are part of that work.
"You have six days each week
for your ordinary work, but on the seventh day you must stop working,
even during the seasons of plowing and harvest.” Exodus
34:21 NLT
Ten
days ago my wife and I began our summer vacation. Due to a number of
reasons – some financial, some personal – we opted for a
“stay-cation” but even so returned to our routine today rested
and refreshed feeling as if we had sat still awhile in the shade of a
big tree on a breezy summer day.
These are really the "after" pictures
What
did we do that made it so relaxing? We determined to hold plans
lightly – if at all – and literally made it up one day at a time.
For
starters, we never set our alarm clocks. Early risers that we are –
her by necessity and me by old habit – that still meant we began
our day around seven-ish but we were in no hurry to get up and get
going. We would lounge the morning away in our pjs, drinking our
coffee, reading or dozing off to sleep again if either of us felt
like it. One of the projects we both wanted to get done while away
from our work was paint the front room but somehow when you have
nothing else to do that kind of work doesn't feel
like labor – especially when you're not on a dead-line. So I
steadily worked my way around the room a half wall at a time, day
after day after day, taping, patching, cutting and then rolling. It
was, in a word, relaxing, especially as more and more of the room got
painted. While I puttered away at this project, she was busy upstairs
reorganizing Charlie's room (and it did need reorganizing).
It was a beautiful night at the Northern Wisconsin State Fair
We ate
out a lot – lunch or dinner and sometimes both in the same day.
Nothing too fancy – Subway, NDI, even chicken from Gordy's deli one
day. We did make a few outings – the Northern Wisconsin State Fair,
a place called Oulu and its famed glass gallery, the Barron County
Fair and the Chippewa Valley Railroad at Carson Park in Eau Claire.
We went to see some movies – Finding Dory, The Secret
Life of Pets and Ice
Age Collision Course – and did
some movie nights at home (thanks, Emma, for introducing me to The
Pirates of Penzance). We were
fortunate to see The Red Barn Theater's production of big:
the musical one night and one
sultry evening all we did was sit out on The Pokegama's deck drinking
something cool and watching the boats go by for the rousing price of
$5 (tip included).
"big: the musical" was a great show
Oulu Glass Gallery
Mouth of the Brule
Davidson windmill on Hwy 13
And we
napped – a lot. Or sat out on our front porch enjoying the evening
breeze. We enjoyed pizza in Superior with our son, Ed, one night and
then sat on the sidelines as he and the guys from his church played
ball against another Duluth fellowship. And on the last day, we were
fortunate to have a few hours with Emma dining out at The Olive
Garden in Eau Claire. With all the gift cards Linda had in her
wallet, what would have cost us $73-something and change only cost us
$7. That's right: seven bucks.
Norske Nook in Rice Lake
V.I.P. pizza in Superior
Olive Garden in Eau Claire
Over the years,
we've had, overall, good vacations. In 2010 we had an epic one in
Washington, D.C. - the last truly family trip we've experienced
together. And while the kids were young I don't know how many years
in a row we camped at Pattison State Park or Amnicon or Madeleine
Island. But what I think I enjoyed most about our time off this year
was the pacing of it all – no place really to get to, no set
time to get there at (except, of course, the time a movie began). It
really was Hakuna matata.
Granted, we didn't
have little kids to herd or mind. We had Charlie but Charlie pretty
much minds himself and usually joins us on our outings. But this year
I was reminded that the secret to a well-spent vacation is to
experience rest and renewal so that you can return to whatever is
your routine refreshed and invigorated and ready to work again. You
don't really need a lot of money for that kind of goal. You just need
to be creative and live within your means. And as a friend of mine
reminded me, when you frame a vacation like that rest can be a form
of worship, simply by stepping out of one's rut for awhile and
choose, if you have one, to gently swing in your hammock or sit on
your porch enjoying the cool of the day.
“Then the Lord said to Moses,“Tell
the Israelites to turn back and encamp near Pi Hahiroth, between
Migdol and the sea. They are to encamp by the sea, directly
opposite Baal Zephon.Pharaoh
will think, ‘The Israelites are wandering around the land in
confusion, hemmed in by the desert.’And
I will harden Pharaoh’s heart, and he will pursue them. But
I will gain glory for myself through Pharaoh and all his army,
and the Egyptians will know that I am the Lord.” So the
Israelites did this.”
Exodus 14:1-4, NIV
...
“In Exodus
14:2 the Israelites were directed by God to backtrack to a precisely
specified place. If ever an act of God must have seemed unloving this
was it, for all too soon they found that they had apparently been led
into a trap, which rapidly closed upon them (14:9). And it was their
God who had put them there! They were helpless, caught in a vice, and
when they looked back on that day, they probably said, as we
frequently find ourselves saying, 'We didn't know which way to turn.'
What can the Lord have been thinking about?”The Bible
Speaks Today: The Message of Exodusby J.A. Motyer, p.
181
There are more than a few opinions on which route they really took
I am a person who
generally defines myself as a Christian first. I will quickly add a
brief disclaimer that I am a pastor serving a congregation in the
Pentecostal tradition but that's only to help an inquiring mind know
where to place me. But while I rarely go there to clarify the matter,
I generally consider myself an Arminian. That is, I put a lot of
emphasis on man's right to choose his eternal destiny, heaven or
hell. When things go south, as they sometimes do, I'll wrack that up
to the toll of living in a fallen world, sinful free will agents
acting out as they are wont to do or the influence of the devil and
his minions or a combination of all three. It's not that I believe
that God takes a “hands off” approach to what goes on “down
here.” Rather, it's the logical conclusion of the conviction that
if it is God's will that we choose to acknowledge him willingly of
our own free will than that choice involves the risk that we won't.
And then stuff happens and bad things with it.
But reading Exodus
14 reminds me that try as we do to nail him down like he is some
candidate running for political office, God resists neat little
boxes, such as Arminian or Calvinist, that will define him. In fact,
the way Moses tells it, God is...well...er, God and therefore
he does what he wants for his own reasons that usually at the moment
make sense only to him.
Take
that climatic moment of the exodus from Egypt, for example. The ten
plagues have passed and just as God had promised Pharaoh had had a
belly full. He was so
done with these Israelites that essentially he evicts them from the
country. “Get out of my sight! And watch your step. I
don’t want to ever see you again. If I lay eyes on you again,
you’re dead” (10:28, Msg). These
are the last words he speaks to Moses (that may have been spoken
about the same time as his words recorded in 12:31). And thus 400
years of captivity come to an end. What a sight and a sound it must
have been the morning following the night of the plague on the First
Born. While the multitude of Israel departed in orderly fashion they
left behind a country grief-stricken to the core, the air torn with
“wild wailing and lament” (12:30).
Beginning
around 13:17, there is what I would describe a definite
deliberateness
in how God leads the people. Instead of taking them up the main
highway toward Canaan, he leads them toward the vast unknown of the
wilderness. But he has good reasons for doing so which Moses shares
with us: they don't know a thing about fighting and if they go
straight north they will very shortly run into battle ready troops
and quickly rethink the entire venture (vv. 17-22).
But
Chapter 14 reads as if God is the Great Puppetmaster, pulling strings
and yanking Pharaoh's chain for all it's worth. He instructs Moses to
lead the people to a specific place - “near Pi Hahiroth, between
Migdol and the sea, directly opposite Baal Zephon” (v. 2) – like
a chess master setting the board or an angler setting the hook. He
deliberately backs the people into a corner so that under any other
circumstances they appear ripe for the picking. As with the case in
choosing the desert road, Yahweh shares his reasons with Moses:
“Pharaoh will
think, ‘The Israelites are wandering around the land in confusion,
hemmed in by the desert.’And
I will harden Pharaoh’s heart, and
he will pursue them. But
I will gain glory for myself through Pharaoh and all his army,
and the Egyptians will know that I am the Lord” (14:3-5,
NIV).
Naturally,
things play out as Yahweh has foreseen. After Egypt is emptied of its
labor force, Pharaoh awakens from his emotional hang-over and
realizes he has made an incalculable error and sends a battalion of
chariots after his slaves to round them up and drive them back to
Goshen. When the people see the rising cloud of dust and hear the
rumble of hundreds of chariots bearing down on them understandably
they freak out. “How could this be?” “How could God do this to
us?” “Moses, what were you thinking?” “Didn't we tell you to
leave well enough alone?” But what seems like hell unleashing upon
them is in fact the set-up for an incredible, never-to-be-repeated
wonder that will be remembered for the ages: the same wind that
brought the locusts (10:13) now splits the sea and drives it apart
(14:20-21). Once again, Yahweh confides in Moses that it's all a part of
a larger Plan, a Plan to teach Pharaoh a thing or two. After all that
was the opening salvo in the plague narrative, Pharaoh's contemptuous
reply to Moses' message from God:
“Who is the LORD,
that I should obey him and let Israel go? I do not know the LORD and I will not let Israel go” (5:2, NIV). By the time he sees one
of his entire battalions of one of the most fiercest weapons of the
ancient world swallowed whole by the collapsing walls of sea water he
has been schooled sufficiently in who Yahweh is and why it's a good
thing to listen to what he says.
But
God has other reasons in bringing his people to this specific locale.
Not only is it to witness his once-and-for-all defeat of Egypt
(“Stand
firm and watch God do his work of salvation for you today. Take
a good look at the Egyptians today for you’re never going to see
them again” v. 13), not only is it answer definitively
Pharaoh's query (“And I will gain glory through Pharaoh and all
his army, through his chariots and his horsemen. The Egyptians
will know that I am the Lordwhen I gain
glory through Pharaoh, his chariots and his horsemen” vv.
17-18) but to underscore to his own people that while he is good he
is also to be feared (“And Israel looked at the Egyptian
dead, washed up on the shore of the sea, and realized the tremendous
power that God brought against the Egyptians. The people
were in reverent awe before God and trusted in God and
his servant Moses” vv. 30-31).
Says
Motyer:
But
where the Israelites saw only an unwanted disaster, the Lord had a
purpose that
would minister to his glory, give them assurance of faith and secure
the future from
the menaces of the past. For on That day the LORD saved
Israel from the hands of the Egyptians, and Israel saw
the Egyptians lying dead on the shore (14:30).
At
this
demonstration of the great power of the LORD...the people
feared the LORDand put their trust in him (14:31)
and in his promise that The Egyptians you see today you will never see again
(14:13). So there was a purpose
after all. God
was working his purpose out, bringing his people a benefit which they did
not know they needed and dealing with a danger which they thought was past
but he knew was not.
Let us learn the
lesson: it is the will of God that gives purpose to life. There is always the 'bigger
picture' of which he is aware and we are not. There are dangers and menaces,
unknown to us, from which he is guarding us, and, above all, there is his conflict
with Satan, within which, in ways we cannot possibly know or understand, the joys, sorrows,
battles and testings that come upon us are playing their part. Had Israel not been
caught – baffled, terrified and helpless – at the Red Sea, there
would have been no final
defeat of the power that had enslaved them. (The Message of
Exodus, p.
181)
I rarely know what
God is up to in my life – why certain prayers don't seem to get
answered, why certain things I try don't seem to work, why people I
love and care for continue down a path of trouble despite my counsel
or earnest prayers to the contrary. He is God and I am not and while
I can understand people making bad choices (myself included), I don't
comprehend why he wouldn't want to rescue them especially
when they begin to suspect they have done wrong. Re-reading Exodus
13-14, however, reminds me that God remains the Red Sea-splitting God
he has always been but he always has a Plan, most of which involves
provoking me to holy fear and abiding trust in Him regardless of the
circumstances of the road I travel.
“...I believe in the Holy
Spirit, the holy Christian
church, the communion of
saints,...”
The Apostles' Creed as found in the "Red Book" (Evangelical Lutheran Worship)
This
past Sunday Refuge “shut-down” at our locale at the corner of 8th
& Leonard and traveled two miles out of town to gather at Luther
Park Bible Camp to worship with Chetek/Dovre Lutheran Churches
(ELCA). Luther Park was the site of this year's edition of Chetek's
Multi-Church Vacation Bible School and since this two-point parish
had already planned a combined service out there we decided to
“crash” the party (of course, we let them know we were coming.)
For several years
now, Refuge has made a habit of doing just this sort of thing. In
fact, to date we have preempted our own weekly gathering on Sunday
morning and joined the folks at Prairie Lake Evangelical Covenant
(ECC), Northside Christian Fellowship (CMA), Advent Christian (ACGC)
and Chetek United Methodist (UMC) one or more times for various
celebratory reasons. And now for the very first time we've joined the
Lutherans (at least, the ELCA ones) in our community.
Love this man
Sunday's gathering
was memorable in that it was held in the “sanctuary of the pines”
on a beautiful summer morning in northwest Chetek. There was worship,
a baptism, there was a selection of songs from VBS, a children's
message delivered by myself and then Pastor Guy shared the Word and
led in the prayer for the saints. For people like ourselves who
generally go until “it's over” I was personally wowed by the fact
that as scheduled the service concluded at the 11-bell. Following the
gathering, we strolled on over to the dining hall for a pot-blessing
meal together. It really was a wonderful gathering from opening song
to the last lick of the ice cream cones served in the dining hall
after lunch.
Territorial as
humans tend to be, whenever we do this sort of thing we never get
full participation from our membership. Some people just can't abide
stepping out of their comfort zone and entering another fellowship's
worship area. As every pastor knows, it's hard enough to try and
challenge people to sit in another row in their own sanctuary let
alone entering the domain of another. But, we probably had two-thirds
present which, I think, is pretty good as those things go.
Refuge
belongs to a non-denominational network of Christian fellowships in
the Pentecostal tradition (the Fellowship of Christian Assemblies or
FOCA) that while sharing a common statement of faith leaves all the
other particulars to the local fellowship. We encourage expression
in our worship gatherings (although as a group we're a pretty laid
back bunch). The Lutherans are maybe slightly more reserved than we
are. We welcome a bit of spontaneity. The Lutherans pretty much stick
to the script. As a rule we don't baptize infants. We dedicate them.
And while save for the basin of water the two acts look very similar,
they have very different meanings to their constituents. More
broadly, the ELCA took a stand in August 2009 recognizing
same-sex marriages as well as choosing to ordain ministers of
homosexual orientation. By comparison, the FOCA has no such document.
That being said while not a betting man, I would put money on it that
you would be hard-pressed to find any of the 300 participating
congregations of the FOCA who would support the ELCA's position on
these matters. In fact, I know that some of us
would be dead-set against them
at least in principle. Under what terms can groups as different as
ours come together in a meaningful way?
For
me, it comes down to our mutual confession of the Apostles Creed
which we recited together under the tall pines above Prairie Lake on
Sunday morning.
I believe in God, the Father
Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth. And in Jesus Christ, His
only Son, our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born
of the virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was
crucified, died and was buried. He descended into hell. On the
third day He rose again from the dead. He ascended into heaven and
sits at the right hand of God the Father Almighty. From thence He
will come to judge the living and the dead. I believe in the Holy
Spirit, the holy Christian Church, the communion of saints, the
forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life
everlasting. Amen
Admittedly,
we disagree on a lot of things none of which I will say are minor or
trivial to either group (i.e., us or
them). But we do
confess our mutual love and devotion to the Lord Jesus, his
suffering, death and resurrection and for four days in late June 2016
we – along with our local Methodist, Advent Christian and Alliance
brothers and sisters – pooled our resources and joined hands to
share the gospel with nearly 90 kids from our community. It's an act
that I think God is pleased with and all his people, regardless of
their differing opinions and convictions, can say amen to.
Note: If you choose to read this please understand that this is not a rant against those who choose to practice an alternative lifestyle. This is definitely not intended to shame anyone into the arms of the Church. Rather, it's a personal observation that more and more the Church reflects the culture and not the wisdom of heaven.
As I
understand it, there are two different ways to “do” church these
days. There is what I would refer to as the traditional approach
where your target audience is essentially the already-converted. And
then there's the trendy “seeker-friendly” style that assumes that
many of the folks out in the pews are still contemplating the claims
of Christ. Both are valid. Both have merit. But as I heard Bill
Hybels once say at a Willow Creek conference I attended, you cannot
do discipleship and evangelism in the same setting. You will do one
or the other but you can't do both. For our part, though we consider
ourselves a non-denominational, contemporary Christian fellowship, in
our weekly worship gatherings we most definitely opt for the more
traditional approach. While our service is open to anyone and
everyone, more likely than not the people who attend and frequent the
gatherings are the already converted. In other words, I spend an
inordinate time preaching to the choir.
This is as high tech as it gets at Refuge
I
personally don't believe the Sunday service is a good way to throw
out the big net and reel in a sinner or two that needs catching. It
has happened now and again but if so it's definitely a God-thing. Our
worship is low-key led by some of our members who delight to share
their musical talents. We have no whistles, no bells, no klieg
lights. We do project the words of the songs we sing onto the wall
through the use of an LED projector and I have been known to use
movie clips now and again in my preaching, but our audience is us
– insiders through and through. Our gathering is a time to be
refreshed, to be encouraged, to be renewed and experience love,
acceptance and forgiveness before returning to wherever the rat race
is for each of us in hopes we will be Christ's love and light in
those places that we frequent.
I
think that's pretty standard, especially for fellowships around here.
I am not the only one in this community that spends an inordinate
amount of time preaching to the choir. But increasingly I am troubled
by what I see happening within
the Christian community and it makes me wonder aloud if the choir
remembers or even knows the score they are supposed to be singing.
After all, a choir, by definition, is a group of people singing the
same song together in a melodious manner. Some may be tenors, some
altos, sopranos or basses but everyone combines their pitch into one
harmonious sound thereby creating something pleasant to the ear. Our
daughter, Emma, is a mezzo soprano in one of the choirs at the
Christian college she attends and she assures me that if by chance
she chose to sing the alto part the result would be a “death glare”
from her director. Imagine what a choir made up of people singing
whatever part they wanted to sing would sound like. Yeah, it wouldn't
be good nor pleasant nor melodious by any standard whatsoever.
As
time goes by, I am finding that so long as I reserve my preaching to
matters of God's unconditional love as demonstrated in the
sacrificial death of Jesus, of his continual presence with us
regardless of our circumstances and things such as these the members
of the choir nod their head and depending on the particular piece we
may be singing tap their toes in beat with the music. I even get an
“Amen!” now and again. These are the kinds of things that all
Christian fellowships regardless of their denominational bent concur
with. But if I choose to preach on individual behavior I find that
before I start on the downbeat I have to set up my remarks with all
kinds of caveats and clarifications ahead of time lest I offend
someone unnecessarily.
Take
sexual sin, for example. Recently Trey Pearson, lead singer of the
Christian band Everyday Sunday, came out of the closet and tweeted
that he is gay. In an interview that he gave on the daytime TV show
The View (that was tagged to my wall by a Christian friend with
remarks to the effect that this “was a beautiful story”) he
shared poignantly that after years of trying to live with his
attraction to men, he decided that the best thing – the thing God
wanted him most to do – is be who he is, a gay man. According to
him, his wife lovingly hugged him, they quietly divorced and now are
co-parenting the children they share together as he seeks to live out
his new found freedom in embracing what he believes is his God-given
identity.
Do
I sound like a hater yet? Or a homophobe? Let me try and clarify. I
don't know this man's story. In fact, up until a week ago I had never
heard of him nor the band he is the lead singer for. I certainly am
not calling for anyone to pick up stones today to cast in his general
direction. But what bothers me about this moment is the fact that
lots of people (presumably Christian people among them) seem to be
“cool” with his confession, and are heartily “liking” the
video of his emotional interview. God loves all people, after all,
and his sin is no different than the sin heterosexuals commit. I
couldn't agree more. But there is a huge
difference between falling into sin and then repenting of it and
embracing a lifestyle that the Scripture labels immoral. A person can
be forgiven for shoplifting in a moment of covetousness but if he
persists in that habit he will go to jail for it because that
behavior is illegal. It's not a perfect analogy but you get the
drift.
I'm
not a biblical scholar. I have no letters after my name that make me
an expert in any field of interpretation. But as someone who has read
and preached the Bible for over thirty years I think I can say on
good authority that there is absolutely no text in Scripture that
recognizes same-sex unions as normative and something to be
celebrated. Whether it be Moses (Genesis 2) or Jesus (Matthew 19) or
Paul (Romans 1) or John (Revelation 22), all of them concur that
homosexual behavior – check that, any sexual behavior outside the
marriage covenant between a man and a woman – is out of bounds,
immoral and an act that earns the disapproval of heaven. That is the
score. That our society and – it seems to me increasingly – more
and more branches of the Church – are singing a different tune says
more about us than the veracity of the Word. And what about the fact
that cohabitation is the norm of the land now? People professing
Christian faith and devotion to the teachings of the Bible now live
together with no sense of embarrassment despite never sharing public
vows. They come to our fellowships, they raise their hands in
worship, they speak in tongues, they testify of God's goodness in
their lives and yet live in a relationship that the same guys I
quoted above call by a different term: “fornication.”
Mind
you, this is not a rant against those who are outside the Christian
faith. The law of the land says you are free to cohabit and shack up
with anyone who is willing to do so with you. I fully agree that
yelling at someone who has embraced a lifestyle contrary to what
Scripture calls “normal” serves no purpose whatsoever. But my
concern is the kids growing up in our fellowships who attend public
school and are subtly trained to accept that all sexual choices –
straight, gay, trans – are morally neutral: people are who they are
and they can't help feeling the way they are. I applaud the school
for reminding our kids that everyone deserves respect and
consideration. Be that as it may that kind of thinking does not jive
with Holy Writ regardless if the home office of a certain
denomination says it does.
“God showed me this vision:
My Master was standing beside a wall. In his hand he held a plumb
line.
God said to me, “What do you
see, Amos?”
I said, “A plumb line.”
Then my Master said, “Look what
I’ve done. I’ve hung a plumb line in the midst of my people
Israel. I’ve spared them for the last time. This is it!
“Isaac’s sex-and-religion
shrines will be smashed, Israel’s unholy shrines will be knocked
to pieces. I’m raising my sword against the royal family of
Jeroboam.” (Amos 7:7-9, Msg)
As my wife can
testify, I'm not a man with skills but with a little help from Bob
Vila I've learned that a plumb line is a simple tool used time out of
mind to gauge whether a wall is plumb or not. If a wall is not plumb,
doors don't work right and if a foundation is not plumb the
structural integrity of the building is threatened. So, it's a big
deal. Amos, a rustic from the southern Kingdom of Judah shows up in
Samaria in the northern kingdom around 930 B.C.E. to announce that
Yahweh has dropped his plumb line among them and found that they
are not “true”. Hence, judgment is imminent. They, like their
southern neighbors, are the people of God and therefore considered
“holy”, set apart to represent Yahweh upon the earth. But by
persisting in disobedience they are risking the structural integrity
of their society. Just as we are within the Church today.
In a
town near us there is a Mennonite community that is death on musical
instruments. They make music and worship the Lord but they do so all
a Capella. I've not heard them but I'm assured on good authority that
they do so beautifully. We who worship with the aid of all kinds of
electronic instruments and amplification think those folk a bit odd,
a bit behind the times. But more and more I'm pretty sure that's
exactly how others are going to view people like me who hold to an
“old school” view of things, who hold to the “original score”,
singing the song as God intended it to be sung.
It was a night so terrible it is still remembered today
“Then
Moses confronted Pharaoh: 'God’s Message: “At midnight I will go
through Egypt and every firstborn child in Egypt will die, from the
firstborn of Pharaoh, who sits on his throne, to the firstborn of the
slave girl working at her hand mill. Also the firstborn of animals.
Widespread wailing will erupt all over the country, lament such as
has never been and never will be again. But against the
Israelites—man, woman, or animal—there won’t be so much as a
dog’s bark, so that you’ll know that God makes a clear
distinction between Egypt and Israel.”
“Then
all these servants of yours will go to their knees, begging me to
leave, ‘Leave! You and all the people who follow you!’ And I will
most certainly leave.'”
“Moses,
seething with anger, left Pharaoh.”
Exodus 11:4-8, The Message
The sound of them devouring must have been terrifying
This
is the final confrontation between Pharaoh and Moses. For weeks Egypt
has undergone one body blow after another come from the hand of the
God of Moses known only as the Lord.
(In fact, the word translated 'plague' really means 'blow' and it is
only found, or so I am told, in Exodus.) At the beginning of the
plague narrative (Exodus 5:1), Moses had delivered the terms of
Yahweh: “Let my people go, so that they hold a festival to me in
the desert.” To wit Pharaoh, sitting ensconced on his throne in
haughty repose replies, “Who is the Lord,
that I should obey him and let Israel go? I do not know the Lord
and I will not let Israel go” (5:2). All that follows (7:14-12:30)
– the Nile turned to blood for seven straight days, the air choked
with mosquitoes and flies past counting, the outbreak of plague upon
livestock and people, the devastating rain of hail, the swarm of
locusts eating Egypt literally alive and finally the descent of a
blackness on the land of Re, the sun-god, so thick it can be felt –
all of it was God's answer to that question: He is who He is, God of
all the earth and sky, and to resist his will is futile. Ironically,
as devastating as all these “blows” have been, by the next
morning they will pale in significance of what will happen in Egypt
that night as God himself moves through the land (v. 4).
As
I have re-read this story this past month or so, a story as familiar
to me as is the story of Noah's Ark or David and Goliath, I have been
reminded that the Exodus tale per se – the one that has been
transposed into films like Cecil B. DeMille's The
Ten Commandments (1956)
and more recently The
Prince of Egypt (1988)
– is far more than a great human drama. It is a contest between the
God of Moses and the gods of Egypt and as it turns out it is no
contest whatsoever.
This is how historian and scholar Thomas Cahill puts it:
“...there
is deeper human and theological business at work in this story than
the theme of the inevitability of Pharaoh's behavior. God the Creator
has ultimate dominion over all he has created; earthly dominion is
given to men only in a subsidiary sense – only insofar as they
conform their actions to God's will. Pharaoh must fail because he is
not so conformed. The god whose representative he is, is powerless
before YHWH; he is as nothing, so much so that he never even makes an
appearance in the narrative: his residual presence is like the
faintest scent, discoverable only by an inquiry into linguistic
roots.”
“The
comedy of the narrative lies in ironic juxtaposition: Pharaoh,
supposedly all-powerful, understands nothing. It would not be too
much to say that this narrative asserts that power (because it is a
feckless attempt to usurp God's dominion) makes you stupid, blinding
you to your true situation – and absolute power makes you
absolutely stupid. The simple audience of semi-nomadic herdsmen to
whom this story was first told understood that they were wiser than
Pharaoh: they, certainly, unlike the great Ra-Moses, now with frogs
jumping all over him, now covered in horseflies, would not have
required the cumulative impact of ten plagues to change course! And
this audience would also have appreciated the paradox that they were
also more powerful than Pharaoh, because God is on the side of the
little people, the people who have no worldly power. This is a lesson
that will be repeated again and again in the story of Israel.”
“It
is precisely Pharaoh's pretense to a dominion that he does not own –
the very motivation of his actions throughout the plague narrative –
that is mocked in Exodus, that gives the narrative its satirical
edge. The lesson is so cunningly shaped as drama – ten separate
plagues, any one of which might have convinced a more ordinary mortal
to give in – that it burns itself into the memory like a brand:
when a human being arrogates to himself the role of God, he must fail
miserably.”
“The
implications of this lesson were radical in their time, since there
was no political edifice that did not claim to be founded by a god.
In one fell swoop, this subversive narrative delegitimizes all
political structures claiming a god as their author –
delegitimizes, in fact, all the political structures of the ancient
world. And Pharaoh, who claimed to know nothing of YHWH, has come to
know him all too well, 'and there was a great cry in Egypt; for there
is not a house in which there was not a dead man.'”The
Gift of the Jewspp.
116-17
This
long excerpt makes me think of the little cult classic short from
1969, Bambi Meets Godzilla. There's
the beloved deer of our childhood memory, nibbling the grass
contentedly, without a care in the world and then – splat.
Yeah, game over.
More
recently and certainly much more satisfying to watch is this scene
from The
Avengers
when Loki, adopted brother of Thor, bids to overthrow the earth and
then encounters a force called the Hulk.
Puny god, indeed.
As
I have been studying the text and reading various commentaries on it,
I have grown increasingly annoyed by those theologians who try and
link real life phenomenon with the events of the plagues as a way to
let us know what
really happened.
You know, the guys who say the Nile turning to blood is really just a
description of a cataclysmic flooding of the mighty river of Egypt
that brings all kinds of red soil down from present-day Uganda
causing it to turn red like
blood.
This is what causes all the frogs to exit the river and when they
“croak” you have a tsunami of biological causes and effects that
taken together cripple the greatest superpower of its day. As if the
ancients, unscientific as they were, couldn't distinguish between a
river turned red because of being inundated with silt and actual,
literal blood. In my mind, their comments say more about our present
day outlook on the world, one that Professor A.J. Conyers fittingly
described in his book The
Eclipse of Heaven, than
it does on theirs.
Author and television personality Bruce Feiler makes
this point so definitively:
“When
I first started reading the Bible closely I, too, wanted – maybe
even needed – to hide behind the screen of history, topography,
science. I was interested in the setting of the story, I said. I was
interested in the historical context. I was interested in the
characters, by which I meant the patriarchs, their wives, Moses, the
Israelites. But in doing so, I was strenuously – at times
acrobatically – avoiding showing interest in the central character
of the entire book. I did this, I was coming to see, because I deeply
wanted to avoid thinking about that character, about what that
character meant to the story, and about what that character might
mean to me. But in doing so, I was shielding myself from a principal
storyline of the Bible: the relationship between humans and the
divine.”
“Not
until I reached Exodus did I finally begin to recognize the futility
of this exercise in self-delusion. As it happens, the text itself
reveals precisely what caused the ten plagues. God caused them. To
miss that point is to miss the essence of the tale, the battle
between the god of the Israelites and the gods of the Egyptians, the
battle that Eliezer Oren referred to as “My god is stronger than
your god.” Biblical storytellers clearly understood this struggle,
because the plagues expressly attack the things that Egyptians held
most sacred: the sun, the animals, the river. As the Bible says,
summing up the experience, 'The Lord executed judgment on their
gods.'” Walking the Bible: A Journey By Land Through the Five Books
of Moses, p.
183
If we miss this point, we miss the story altogether as
well as the moral: God is God and must be accorded the respect he is
due. Or else. As J.A. Motyer puts it,
All
ten of the disasters inflicted on the Egyptians were acts of God, but
the final one was outstandingly so, for in its performance the Lord
in person entered Egypt to exact a just judgment (11:4; 12:12). In
this regard the sequence of plagues illustrates the awesome biblical
truth that the final issue for recalcitrant humanity is to come face
to face with God. Divine patience and forbearance wait while every
avenue of moral probation is offered, tried and exhausted, but then
comes the point which Jesus underlined in his parable, when he said,
'Last of all, he sent his son' (Matt 21:27). The word of God cannot
be refused endlessly. There always has to be an end, a meeting with
the God whom our refusals have offered to the point of finality. The
Bible Speaks Today: Exodus, p. 126
So
reading Exodus is not just the re-reading of a good Bible yarn that
we heard first in the Sunday School of our youth. No, it's equipping
us to deal with every braggart and political leader who tries to
persuade us that contrary to the wisdom of Scripture they hold the
keys that promise to open the closed doors that bar us to a wonderful
future we have not yet realized.