Lent

7th March -Hananiah, Mishael and Azariah

Hananiah, Mishael and Azariah: Daniel 3 v 1-30: ‘Look! I see four men…’

Who are these three guys, you may well ask? Whilst Hananiah, Mishael and Azariah were their Jewish birth names, we know them more familiarly by their Babylonian names of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego. Along with Daniel they were born in Judah but after Jerusalem fell to the Babylonians in 587 BC, along with many of the great and good, they were forced into exile. They quickly found that there were opportunities in King Nebuchadnezzar’s court at Babylon for bright young men and they undertook training which opened doors to highly influential positions in the king’s service (Daniel 1 v 5; 19-20).

However given that Hananiah, Mishael and Azariah were faithful Jews living and working in an alien culture with very different religious beliefs it was pretty much inevitable that they would come across a roadblock. It arrived in the shape of a ninety feet high golden image which, whilst it may or may not have been of the king himself, was designed as a very visible object of worship. Here the unstoppable force of absolute royal power meets the immovable object of a strongly held faith; every single person assembled on the plain of Dura that day, Jewish exiles included, was instructed to bow down to the statue.

From time to time in our own day, on the news or in a documentary, we see members of ruling assemblies in totalitarian states on their feet giving the dictator a standing ovation. What we are not able to see is what these acolytes are thinking privately; they all know they have no choice but to play the part of sycophants to protect their jobs and their lives. So it was for Hananiah, Mishael and Azariah – they were caught between a rock and hard place whereby they had to choose between betraying their Jewish beliefs and disobeying the king’s command.

Their loyalty to God led them to a fiery furnace blazing even hotter than the king’s anger at their disobedience. The story of their deliverance from the fire which didn’t burn a hair of their heads and the presence of a fourth (presumably angelic) human figure in the fire with them vindicates the stand they have taken and leads to profound change in Neduchanezzar. He, of course, goes the whole hog with dire consequences promised now for anybody uttering a word against ‘the God of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego’ (v 29). It is worth noting in passing that the king has not become a convert as a result of this remarkable deliverance, God is still ‘their own God’ (v28).

In the list of heroes of faith in Hebrews 11, the reference to those who ‘quenched the fury of the flames’ (v 34) is very likely a nod to this story. However whilst much of that chapter is about those delivered by God from all kinds of trials and tribulations, it goes on to list those whose struggles did not have such a happy outcome (v 35-38) and where there was no miraculous divine intervention to save people from prison, persecution, isolation and death.

This inconsistency of fate for those whose faith leads to conflict with religious and political leaders continues in the New Testament. Whilst James is put to death by the sword (Acts 12 v 2), Peter is subsequently rescued from incarceration by an angel (Acts 12 v 6-10). This surely does not mean that Peter mattered more than James. Testimonies from the 260 million Christians persecuted for their faith today suggest the same pattern (or lack of it). Whilst some, either through their own efforts or with help from organisations supporting them such as Open Doors (www.opendoorsuk.org), have been able to support themselves and live in safety, others have suffered less happy outcomes. The week before these words were written 39 people were murdered in the Democratic Republic of Congo just because they were Christians. It is estimated that between 50,000 and 70,000 Christians are being held in appalling conditions in labour camps in North Korea because of their faith.

Whilst there are many wonderful stories of answers to prayers and an enormous amount of prayerful work continues to be done in support of Christians who live day by day with the threats of losing their jobs, families or even their lives, not everybody can be brought into a safe place.

Hananiah, Mishael and Azariah, were denounced by their colleagues out of jealousy (v 8), no doubt, at their rise through the ranks of the government administration. Their answer after they were hauled before the king speaks volumes. They did have faith that God will deliver them from the fiery furnace and yet, ‘…even if he does not, we want you to know, O king, that we will not serve your gods…’ (v 18). They were fully prepared to pay the price if on this occasion there is no divine intervention. There is an implicit acknowledgement here that God is not always at hand with a ‘get out of jail free’ card but there is a loyalty to God that will face the consequences, whatever they may be.

In our own lives there may well be moments when the situation we find ourselves in leads to a potential conflict with our faith. We may not be taken off to prison or murdered for our beliefs but we might be ostracised, laughed at, marginalised, scorned or misunderstood. In our working life we may be asked to collude with a decision that, for instance, unnecessarily threatens people’s livelihoods here or overseas or that involves, at the very least, being economical with the truth. It might be that saying no to something we know to be wrong costs a friendship or carries a financial penalty. There are some tough choices to be made sometimes and the consequences of doing the right thing (or not doing the wrong thing) can be unpredictable.

Hananiah, Mishael and Azariah remind us that loyalty to God has to come first and that our lives need to be shaped around our faith rather than the other way round.  This will sometimes require much prayerful thinking; knowing what is the right course of action can be difficult to fathom and there may well be subtle nuances to take into account. There may be problems whichever way we look! Faith can be costly. Jesus not only gave up the joy of heaven but lived a life of service that took him inevitably to the cross (Phil 2 v 6-8). Whilst Hananiah, Mishael and Azariah emerged unharmed from the heat of the fire, there was no divine rescue from the agony of crucifixion for Jesus; no legions of angels appeared to carry him to safety as he was arrested, tried, mocked, sentenced, flogged and killed.

Yet that was not where the story ended; if it was then all those who have suffered for doing the right thing, including Jesus, would have suffered in vain. It is the resurrection that points us to a hope that takes us beyond such things as fiery furnaces to the righting of all wrongs and injustices as God’s kingdom of love, peace and fullness of life prevails. The writer of Hebrews has a vision of Christ at the right hand of God and exhorts us to ‘not grow weary and lose heart’ (Heb 12 v 3). Whatever difficulties, contradictions and costly decision making we may have to endure, our living hope is focused on an inheritance that, as Peter puts it, ‘can never perish, spoil or fade, (1 Peter 1 v 4).

 

Questions: Have you ever experienced conflict at work or in any other context between what you have asked to do and what you knew to be right? How did you resolve the dilemma?

Prayer: Lord, guide us when we have difficult decisions to make and need to know the right course of action. Give us the strength to do what we know is right and to be the people you want us to be. Amen.

5th March -The Widow at Zarephath

The Widow at Zarephath: 1 Kings 17 v 7-24: ‘The jar of flour will not be used up’

I have never found myself in a situation in which I didn’t know where my next meal was coming from. When I go shopping the supermarket shelves are full and there is an abundance of everything. Yet all it needs is the suggestion that food might run short and panic buying quickly ensues; just as it did at the beginning of the pandemic. It demonstrates just how much we take things like food for granted. The World Bank estimates that there are 135 million people in the world who are facing acute food insecurity with the consequences of COVID-19 potentially almost doubling that total.

In our reading today the people of Israel are suffering from a lethal combination of famine and bad leadership. Ahab, the Israelite king, aided and abetted by his wife Jezebel, is one of the Old Testament’s premier bad guys who seems to have pursued a policy of keeping his religious options open by promoting the worship of the Canaanite fertility god Baal (1 Kings 16 v 32). Whilst the climactic confrontation between Elijah and the prophets of Baal is still some way off, the narrative is already building towards it by demonstrating that it is God rather than Baal who can both cause and bring relief from famine (v 1).

Poor leadership at a time of crisis can be very costly and Ahab’s deficiencies as a king are exacerbating the suffering of his subjects.  Elijah himself is miraculously kept alive (rather ironically by ravens, who are more often thought of as scavengers) and is then sent very specifically by God to Zarephath (beyond Israel’s borders; today it is the Lebanese city of Sarepta) on the understanding that a local widow would supply him with food. But is it the provider and who ends up being the one provided for. With her breadwinner dead the widow is down to her last few grains of flour and her last vestige of hope.

The miraculous provision of food whereby stocks of flour and oil remain at the same level however much is used is meant to remind us that whilst the effects of famine fall disproportionately on the poorest and most vulnerable, they are disproportionately closer to the kingdom of God; a community that great wealth makes it difficult to be part of (Mat 19 v 24). Ahab and Jezebel, back in their palace in Samaria, would not have been going short but they were getting it very wrong and the storyteller has some very harsh words for them (1 Kings 16 v 30-33). The principle that in times of economic crisis the most vulnerable bear the brunt whilst the wealthy grow wealthier holds as true today as it ever did. There is an uncompromising challenge for those of us living in an ostentatiously prosperous society which includes an exponentially rising group of people who are having, often for the first time in their lives, to worry about where their next meal is coming from.

The second half of the story, the healing of the widow’s son, continues the theme of vulnerability. We are not told how old her son was but he was clearly not of an age where he could support her financially. Both the woman herself (v 18) and Elijah (v 20) articulate the widespread belief that a death of this nature represented a judgement of God. But it is made clear in the fact that life returns to her son following Elijah’s impassioned and physically manifested prayer that this is emphatically not the case. Her son represented, perhaps, her last best hope of being able to have enough money to put food on the table in future and his death turns out to be no more and no less than the kind of random tragedy which we in our own day find so difficult to understand. I have found myself in numerous pastoral situations where people have expressed the belief that something very bad that was happening to them constitutes a divine punishment for some misdemeanour. It can very much feel like that, as it did for the widow at Zarephath, but Jesus came to show us that God’s way of doing things does not involve dishing out random acts of retribution to those who displease him. When Jesus wept at the grave of Lazarus a window is opened onto the heart of a God who feels for, weeps with and cares passionately for those who suffer.

The widow had reached the point where she felt her life was over and that she wanted to die (v 12) – she had just had enough. Later on in Elijah’s story he himself, following his victory on Mount Carmel and his subsequent flight from the murderous rage of Jezebel, reached his own nadir in the silence of the desert as he implores God to, ‘Take my life; I am no better than my ancestors.’ (1 Kings 19 v 4). For the widow it was grinding poverty that made her life seem worthless, for Elijah it was the sensibility that it was ‘me against the world’ (1 Kings 19 v 10). There are many other reasons why a human being might feel that life is not worth the bother; the loss of a loved one, a struggle with mental health issues, living with a disability, addiction to drink or drugs or the isolation forced on many vulnerable people as a result of COVID-19 (to name just a few). Responding to this acute despair isn’t easy and pious platitudes do more harm than good. Much more helpful for Elijah was that his urgent need for sleep and food was met (1 Kings 19 v 5).

Whilst many reach a tipping point, sometimes driven by circumstances and sometimes by their own failures, at which they feel that they are worthless and their lives are meaningless, that is not how God sees it. This woman was not just poor; she was an outsider as far as the Jews were concerned, living in a part of the world where Baal was the main focus of worship. Indeed when Jesus makes reference to this story in the synagogue in Nazareth implicitly suggesting his ministry, rejected at home, will embrace Gentiles, he barely escapes with his life (Luke 4 v 25-26, 28-30). Jesus’s reference to her affirms that God cared about her, which is why Elijah arrived at her door. Whilst there is much about life in the twenty first century that eats away at our self-esteem and makes us feel devalued, our Christian faith insists that God cares for us too. If any one of us was the only person in the world who needed a saviour, Jesus would have died on the cross for us. He didn’t just give his life for us as an anonymous member of the human race; he knows our name, he knows about our struggles, he knows the things that trouble us and offers us all a sacrificial love that is personal, cleansing, renewing and never ending. This helps us to see our lives, whatever our circumstances may be, from a new place and assures us that we are and always will be beloved children of God.

 

Questions: Have you or somebody close to you ever felt that life just wasn’t worth living? Is there something practical we can do for a friend or family member today to express God’s love for them?

 

Prayer: Lord, though we find it hard to love ourselves sometimes, thank you that you love us more than we could dare to hope. Amen.

4th March - Omri

Omri: 1 Kings 16 v 15-28: ‘But Omri did evil’

Today’s passage briefly describes, in not much more than a footnote, the historically pretty spectacular reign of King Omri. He became king of the Northern Kingdom of Israel a little less than 50 years after the split with the Southern Kingdom (which continued to be ruled by descendants of David) and reigned for about 12 years. In terms of the wider history of the time he was an extremely significant figure who was militarily successful and established a powerful dynasty. He also founded Samaria, the capital city of his kingdom (1 Kings 16 v 24). The “Moabite stone”, discovered in 1868 at Dibon in Jordan by German missionary Frederick Augustus Klein (who became an Anglican priest and worked for what is now the Church Mission Society), contains these references to King Omri from a later Moabite leader, King Mesha:

‘Omri was king of Israel, and oppressed Moab during many days, and Chemosh [the Moabite deity] was angry with his aggressions. His son succeeded him, and he also said, I will oppress Moab.’

Other Assyrian inscriptions reveal that the northern kingdom of Israel was referred to as the ‘Land of Omri’ and the royal dynasty as the ‘House of Omri’ for over a century after his death. Yet the reign of this towering historical figure is given just 14 verses in 1 Kings 16, nearly half of which recount how he came to power. The reason for this is that the history writers of the Old Testament aren’t all that impressed by his successes (you could find out about them elsewhere if you were interested - see v 27). Their assessment of the kings of Israel is based entirely on their faithfulness, or lack of it, to God and it’s clear that from their point of view the most significant thing about Omri is that he repeated the mistakes of Jeroboam, first king of the Northern Kingdom, in deliberately turning aside from his vocation to lead a people loyal to God by fostering the worship of idols.

If we check out the only other reference to him in the Old Testament it’s clear that his name remained a byword for the evils of idolatry for many years after his reign. Micah, prophesying to the Southern Kingdom of Judah about 150 years later, does not mince his words and foresees ruinous consequences as he accuses the people of following the ‘statutes of Omri’ (Micah 6 v 16), clearly in context a reference to the worship of false idols. In a twist of irony, ruin did eventually overtake the Northern Kingdom during Micah’s lifetime as it was conquered by the Assyrians who deported many of its people and brought its history to a close.

The story of Omri reminds us of the perennial relevance of Lord Acton’s aphorism that, ‘power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely’. Omri seems to have been a leader who was extremely capable but morally and spiritually bankrupt. We live at a time when populist and autocratic leaders have come to power in many countries with their divisive messages often carried via social media. Some of these leaders have cemented their power effectively for life; Presidents Putin of Russia and Xi of China being two examples. I have never understood the obsession with power but it seems to work like a drug, once you have had a fix you just can’t get enough of it. But it doesn’t need to be so. Nelson Mandela showed us that it is possible to lead a country whilst retaining your humanity and maintaining an attitude of public service.

Jesus never really bothered much with those in power (until he had to) preferring to spend much of his time with the ‘ptochos’, the poorest of the poor, made up of those were excluded from the rest of society, often reduced to begging. It was here that he nurtured the good seed of the coming kingdom. In an age where it seems that certain people have an entitlement to a lifestyle beyond the dreams of the vast majority we need to shift our gaze away from the trappings of power and address, in whatever way we are able, however small that might be, the appalling injustices that scar this beautiful world in which all were meant to be able to live without want.

Part of the problem relates very specifically to Omri; the tendency of humanity to worship idols rather than the Lord of heaven and earth. In Omri’s time it was the gods of the surrounding nations that subverted the vocation of his people to worship and serve God. As we see in the writings of the prophets this wasn’t just an end in itself as in; ‘serve me and not them or else’. Turning away from the one who had liberated the people and created a covenant with them had disastrous consequences for the moral and spiritual life of the nation. Micah, referred to earlier,  addresses a community which has lost its moral compass because it has lost touch with its foundational calling to be the people of God, ‘Her leaders judge for a bribe, her priests teach for a bribe, and her prophets tell fortunes for money’ (Micah 3 v 11). Money is talking so loudly it is drowning out the voice of God.

The idols of money, sex and power, which all figure prominently in the Old Testament narrative, are still extremely voluble today demanding our attention and claiming our allegiance. As human beings we have a God given need to worship but we too often look in the wrong place which means that, whether we mean to or not, we set up idols that sometimes hide in plain sight. We live in a culture in which rock stars, sports stars, soap stars, film stars and reality stars are placed on idolatrous pedestals meaning that even the most intimate details of their lives are dissected in the kind of gossip magazines people glance through while waiting for a haircut. These are lent a significance that enables their worshippers to get vicarious thrills (the lives of many celebrities are rarely their own) before returning to the seemingly mundane and unimportant matters that make up their own daily lives back at ground level. We have become worshippers with an increasing addiction to and reliance on such things as social media which too often mean we spend much of our lives with our attention focused on stuff that either doesn’t matter or is even positively harmful, such as the conspiracy theories of QAnon that are engaging certain mindsets in the United States (including some evangelical Christian communities) in very worrying ways.

What Christians are being called to do; what you and I are being called to do is to worship the Lord our God. This means that we put him first and define ourselves as those whose lives are focused on prayer, engagement with scripture, worship and service. This does not mean that we have to throw our phones and tablets away (although it might mean that we use them less) but it does mean that we make space in our lives and in our hearts to hear the voice of God addressing our distracted hearts and minds with a gentle whisper and a call to serve.

 

Questions: What does it mean to worship God every day of our lives? What are the marks of a life focused on serving Christ?

Prayer: Lord, we live in a society distracted by so many things that do not matter. Help us to shape our lives around our relationship with you. Amen.

3rd March - Bathsheba and Uriah

Bathsheba and Uriah: 2 Samuel 11 v 1-17; 12 v 1-13: ‘You are the man!’

It has been said that if you place someone in a position of high authority you see both the very best and the very worst of them. Having yesterday considered a remarkable act of royal kindness, we come back down to earth with a very big bump today as we consider David’s use and abuse of Uriah the Hittite and his wife Bathsheba.

This story takes place at the start of the fighting season after David’s army has left to go into battle while he himself has stayed in Jerusalem. From the roof of his palace, up the hill from the residential areas below, David sees a woman bathing. The series of events that flow from his lustful gaze involve adultery, skulduggery and murder and the storyteller accepts no excuses for David’s behaviour.

Uriah the Hittite was one of David’s most trusted soldiers, part of an elite force listed at the end of 2 Samuel (23 v 39). The designation ‘Hittite’ meant that he was descended from one of the Canaanite tribes that occupied the land before the people of Israel arrived from Egypt but given that ‘Uriah’ is a Hebrew name he was obviously very much an assimilated Israelite. His wife Bathsheba was the daughter of Eliam (11 v 3) who also appears to have been a member of David’s S.A.S. equivalent (2 Sam 23 v 24) meaning that they were members of a military family. So here the royal predator is having his way with a woman whose husband and father are away fighting his wars. The story does not say whether Bathsheba went to the palace willingly or unwillingly; the bottom line is that she would have had no choice in the matter anyway.

The story paints a picture of Uriah as decent and loyal and in no way deserving of the appalling treatment he receives. When news of Bathsheba’s pregnancy reaches David his first thought is to get Uriah  back from the war to sleep with his wife (for which David’s instruction to ‘wash your feet’ - 11 v 8 - is a euphemism) so that the child can be passed off as his. However Uriah, a professional soldier adhering to a code of conduct which he expresses in words tantamount to, ‘I can’t be sleeping with my wife while my mates are putting their lives on the line in battle’ (v 11) is a man of honour and even when David plies him with drink (v 13) he refuses to play ball. His integrity costs him his life; he is sent back to war and instruction is given to Joab, the commander of David’s forces (via a letter carried to him by Uriah himself who is unaware that it contains his death sentence!), to make 100% sure he is killed in battle.

This is very much a story of a king doing whatever he wants, whenever he wants to whoever he wants with no thought or regard for the fierce loyalty of those he is harming. It’s hard to see it any other way than a disgrace from start to finish. The only mitigating factor is that when Nathan the prophet, using a parable with pin point accuracy, tells David to his face what God thinks of his behaviour, he crumples in a heap, mortified by the sudden realisation of exactly what he has done (12 v 13). His penitence is movingly expressed in Psalm 51 although even there, as he says to God, ‘against you, you only, have I sinned’ (v 4), we might want to add that Uriah, Bathsheba and the child that subsequently dies  (2 Sam 12 v 18) were also sinned against as victims of David’s shocking behaviour.

It’s very significant that this episode is included in the ‘warts and all’ Old Testament story and it acts as a reminder that whilst human beings are capable of great generosity, love and selflessness, they are also deeply flawed. In the New Testament we see this highlighted by the thoroughly self-centred power play made by James and John (Mark 10 v 37), the betrayal of Judas (Mark 14 v 43-47) and the complete moral failure of Peter (Mark 14 v 66-72). It is only in the entirely generous, loving and selfless life of Jesus that we see what a perfect human life looks like.

There are a couple of particular lessons for us to take from this story. Firstly it is a prime example of the universal tendency for one sin to lead to another. Bathsheba becomes pregnant so David, to get himself off the hook, decides to try and fool Uriah into to thinking it’s his child. When that didn’t work he took the nuclear option and had innocent, loyal Uriah done away with. Sometimes it is in covering our tracks after mistake number one that the really bad stuff happens as we try to move the pieces around the board to make it seem as if nothing happened. It’s partly because we don’t want to admit our weaknesses to ourselves or to others – we’re often afraid to be seen for who we really are, warts and all. We’re also afraid of the cost that we may need to pay in terms of our personal relationships, our reputation at work, in the communities to which we belong (both in the real world and online) or at church. However some words of Henri Nouwen seem very pertinent,

‘Mostly we are so afraid of our weaknesses that we hide them at all cost and thus make them unavailable to others and also often to ourselves…..I became aware of the fact that in the sharing of my weaknesses with others, the real depths of my human brokenness and weakness and sinfulness started to reveal themselves to me, not as a source of despair but as a source of hope’.’

It is in acknowledging the gap between who we seem to be and who we really are that true repentance and new life flows. It is the experience of our failures (common to us all) and the recognition of them (which others around us can often see so much more clearly than we can) that healing and authentic humanity can germinate and flower both in our own lives and in the wider world of which we are all an integral part.

Secondly we live in a society where the frantic need to have everything we want is driving us to a dead end. Bathsheba and Uriah were victims of somebody who had far more than they did but still hadn’t gratified his desires. The parable of Nathan concerning the rich man with huge numbers of sheep and cattle who steals the poor man’s one single ewe (12 v 1-4) is pertinent both to David’s appalling behaviour all those years ago and the vast inequalities that disfigure the world in which we live. Consumerism is self-perpetuating; those who have much will always want more and never be satisfied. Given the fact that the world’s resources are finite that will inevitably mean that this will be at the expense of the many who have little or nothing. None of us live in isolation; our choices will have consequences not just for ourselves but for others. They may be people we have never met or know nothing of, but we still have a responsibility to order our lives in such a way that our choices do not cost them the earth.

Questions: Can you think back to any major mistakes you have made in life? Have you been able to experience God’s forgiveness? Have you and those affected been able to move on?

Prayer: Lord, forgive us for our mistakes, especially those we repeat again and again. Help us to acknowledge them, learn from them and be more properly formed in your image. Amen.

2nd March - Mephilbosheth

Mephibosheth: 2 Samuel 9 v 1-13: ‘For I will surely show you kindness’.

There is a long political history of those assuming power ruthlessly eliminating anybody who might pose even a potential threat to their new found authority. It was this mindset that sealed the fate of Tsar Nicholas II and his family following the Russian revolution of 1917 (noting in passing that, although it certainly doesn’t justify the slaughter of his entire family, Tsar Nicholas was himself no stranger to this kind of behaviour). There is more than a whiff of this in the air following David’s accession to the throne. Saul’s death whilst fighting Israel’s perennial opponents the Philistines on Mount Galboa exacerbated political instability and David only became king following a drawn out civil war between his supporters and members of Saul’s family (2 Sam 3 v 1). Jonathan, who died in battle beside his father, was not Saul’s only son and his remaining brothers were not going to go quietly, which is why David, once his throne is secure, arranges for several members of Saul’s family to meet a nasty end courtesy of a group of old enemies thirsty for revenge (2 Sam 21 v 7-9).

Before the killing begins there is a note indicating that Jonathan’s son Mephibosheth (who, as a grandson of Saul could have been seen as a potential threat) had been allowed to live by David because of the covenant of friendship with Jonathan we were considering yesterday. It’s an unusual offer to say the least - covenants of friendship notwithstanding, he was still a descendant of Saul and if David had followed the standard operating procedures of kings in the ancient world he would have had him killed without compunction.

But he doesn’t. Mephibosheth is brought into the king’s household and given the honour, usually reserved for royal sons, of eating at the king’s table. A cynic might suggest that this made it easier for David to keep an eye on him but it does appear more than likely that this is a genuine expression of the importance to him of the dear friendship he had had with Jonathan. This is underlined following the slight wobble later in the story when Ziba, Mephibosheth’s steward, accuses Mephibosheth of plotting to usurp the throne at a time of national emergency with Absalom’s revolt in full swing (2 Sam 16 v 1-4). When David arrives in Jerusalem and meets him his demeanour and willingness to let go of property that was his by right suggests that Ziba has been less than truthful in his accusation. Through it all David holds remarkably true to his commitment to his late and much lamented friend Jonathan.

David’s treatment of the other members of Saul’s family reminds us that when we read the Old Testament narrative we need to be realistic about the dog eat dog world in which it is set. The brutality we encounter, sometimes understood to be at the behest of God, tells us more about their culture (to my mind, at least) then it does about what God is really like. It is in reading the Gospels and reflecting on events from Jesus’ ministry, such as the healing of another disabled man at the pool of Bethsaida (John 5 v 1-9), that we see the divine nature much more clearly. Yet this episode with Mephibosheth seems to offer a ray of light and anticipate this clearer vision of God in the kindness that is offered, the loyalty it represents and the gracious way it is received.

An important aspect of this story is the disability of Mephibosheth; a result of him having been accidentally dropped by his nurse in the rush to get him to safety during the chaos following Saul’s death (2 Sam 4 v 4). It is a major reason why it is unlikely that Mephibosheth would actually have betrayed the one who had offered him home, hospitality and respect as he would have been all too aware that his disability meant that he would never have been accepted as king of Israel. This echoes, albeit in a different context, teaching in the book of Leviticus which lists a whole string of disabilities barring any individual, notwithstanding the fact that he could claim descent from Aaron, from undertaking priestly ministry (Lev 21 v 16-23). Afflictions in the ancient world tended to be understood as punishments from God which explains the whole force of the book of Job in which he maintains his innocence while his friends peddle the official line and try to get him to ‘fess up’.

Let’s return to the man born blind healed by Jesus who we were thinking about in connection with Hagar and Ishmael. Jesus says very plainly that his blindness is not a punishment from God for something he or his parents had done wrong (John 9 v 1-3). Whilst Jesus seizes this opportunity to demonstrate the power of God, when we segue across to the letters of St Paul, we find a man who is himself carrying a ‘thorn in the flesh’, very probably a disability and thought by some to be a problem with his eyes; a thought backed up by his words at the end of Galatians, ‘See what large letters I use as I write to you with my own hand’ (Gal 6 v 11). Paul is characteristically open and honest about the distress this thorn caused him but came to understand (after much pleading with God) that his call was to live and work with the pain. The bottom line is expressed in God’s reply to his cry for deliverance, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness’ (2 Corinthians 12 v 9). I find an echo here of my own struggles with mental health (very much a thorn in the flesh), something that reshaped life and ministry in unforeseen ways. Similarly this was not a visitation of divine wrath and I feel enormously grateful for the unconditional and loving acceptance of me and my struggles by the congregation I served, through which God’s ongoing call to ministry, complete with thorn, was affirmed.

The Church of England has committed itself to fully enabling the participation of disabled people in the life and ministry of the church. That includes those with any kind of physical disability as well as those, like myself, who have had mental health issues. Being church should be about enabling all to feel that they can be absolutely who they are without feeling excluded or discriminated against in any way and understanding that God speaks with a unique voice through every human being.

 

Questions: Do you have a ‘thorn in the flesh’? Have you ever spoken to God about it?

Prayer: Lord, thank you that you made us as we are and love us unconditionally. Help your church to offer a welcome to all as we live out that love in our common life. Amen.

1st March - Jonathan

Jonathan: 1 Samuel 18 v 1-4; 23 v 15-18 ; 2 Sam 1 v 26: ‘You were very dear to me’

The nature of the relationship between David and Jonathan has been the subject of much speculation. The statement that Jonathan ‘became one in spirit with David, and loved him as himself (1 Sam 18 v 1) and David’s words, in his lament for Jonathan following his death in battle, testifying to a love that was, ‘more wonderful than that of women’ (2 Sam 1 v 26) have led some, but not all, to conclude that their relationship was more than platonic being, in reality, a consummated same-sex relationship. Various aspects of the text have been adduced by commentators on either side of the debate and the reality is that it isn’t clear one way or the other. What we can say without doubt was that there was a powerful bond between them that, whatever its precise nature, remains a beautiful example of love and loyalty between two people of the same sex.

Given the context, their friendship was an unlikely one. One might have expected Jonathan, as the eldest son of Saul and therefore next in line to the throne, to have seen David, especially after his spectacular triumph over Goliath, as a major threat; an upstart with every chance of supplanting him as the heir apparent. As it happens that is exactly how his father King Saul viewed David. Yet Jonathan’s act of divesting himself of his military uniform and handing it to David (1 Sam 18 v 4) and his explicit statement to his soul mate that, ‘I will be second to you’ (23 v 17) suggest that he saw David as the man to lead the nation and was more than happy to accept a demotion.

There’s a resonance here with John the Baptist. When Jesus appeared at the River Jordan with a  request for baptism, he was completely unknown whilst John, the greatest preacher of his day attracted thousands of people who came out into the desert to hang on his every word. Yet John intuitively recognised Jesus as the one, ‘whose sandals I am not fit to carry’ (Mat 3 v 11). Here was somebody who hadn’t let it all go to his head and who understood that his role was to support rather than to be the main attraction.

Our contemporary world could do with a few more Jonathans (and a few more John the Baptists, come to think of it)! Modern culture has become celebrity obsessed to an unhealthy degree as fame and wealth are sought after as the way to a happy, fulfilled and significant life; one that gives you apparent significance. The Hollywood actor Denzel Washington wrote of his successful career, ‘Success? I don’t know what that word means. I’m happy. But success, that goes back to what in somebody’s eyes success means. For me, success is inner peace. That’s a good day for me’. Washington is reflecting on what is most important in his life and for him being a successful human being is much more about the disposition of his soul than fame or the number of people who went to see his latest film.

Jonathan comes across as somebody who cared little for status and the trappings of power and was very happy to give way to David and do without them. What does this have to say to the person who didn’t get that promotion at work they wanted or to those, in whatever walk of life, need to feel that they are in charge. The humble ability not to be endlessly self-promoting, to be happy not being number one, is critical in every part of society including in the life of Christian communities. In his letter to the church at Philippi, Paul encourages his friends to, ‘Do nothing out of vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others (Phil 2 v 3-4). This is actually quite hard to do as we are all subject to a very human tendency to see the world as revolving around ourselves and our interests, something that the culture we live in greatly encourages.

Being a Christian is not just about filling our own lives with meaning, although that is certainly part of it. It is also about taking up the cross and following Jesus. Jonathan’s apparent willingness to hand over all the symbols of his status as next in line to the throne (robe, tunic, sword, bow and belt) to David is an encouragement for us to sit very light to those things which may appear to give us status including the size of our house, car and bank balance; our seniority at work, at the club or at church and the temptation to look down on those we feel to be less clever or able than ourselves.

Jonathan was clearly both loyal and humble. The covenant he made with David was one in which he gave away the political power he had been brought up to understand belonged only to him. He was a steadfast, reliable and loving friend who cared less for himself and more for others. Jesus himself was the divine Son of God who, as Paul puts it, ‘…made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant (Phil 2 v 7) and in doing so gives us an example to follow. His temptations in the wilderness focused in turn on using his divine power to meet his own needs, making himself invulnerable and grabbing power. He rejects all three and chooses the road of humble service; a decision that will take him all the way to the cross.

At the end of the day it doesn’t matter whether we are top of the class, head of the department, chairperson of the society or running that project at church. None of those, of course, are bad things in themselves as such but they are not meant to define us. It is being made in the image of God that does that. It is in embracing this fundamental truth about ourselves that, wherever we stand on the greasy pole, we become truth bearers and truth sharers.

Questions: Why is friendship so important? In a society so concerned about status, how can we practice humility?

Prayer: Lord, as we reflect on Jonathan’s loyalty and humility, help us to see others as better than ourselves and to take the opportunities we have to serve. Amen.

28th February - Ruth

Ruth: Ruth 1 v 1-18: ‘Your people will be my people’

A few years ago one of my brothers sent off a DNA swab to get an idea of our family’s ethnic origins. The result showed that while just over 80% of our origins are ‘British and Irish’; we are apparently 8.8% Iberian, 6.2% Eastern European, 3.6% Ashkenazi Jewish and 0.8% Finnish. The Iberian ethnicity is explained by the fact that between 4,000 and 5,000 years ago, a time when there were only a few thousand inhabitants in the British Isles, Iberian fishermen migrated from what is now Spain across the Bay of Biscay and are now thought of as the indigenous inhabitants of Britain. It is a reminder that every single one of us is descended from people who migrated here from somewhere else. Some of these migrations were for economic reasons (the Windrush generation), others came as invaders (Romans, Vikings and Normans) and others came as refugees, fleeing persecution and poverty (Huguenots). This perspective should profoundly inform and shape our response to migration today. The fact that migrants, many of whom never wanted to leave their homes but were compelled to do so by conflict and poverty, often find themselves confronted by barbed wire and the message, ‘you are not welcome here, go back home’ is both unbiblical and a denial of our own ethnic origins.

I write this just days after yet another family doing exactly what Ruth did lost their lives. Rasoul Iran-Nejad, his wife Shiva Mohammad Panahi and their children Anita, Armin and Artin, having fled Iranian Kurdistan, drowned in the English Channel trying to join family in the UK. Ethnic Kurds are a minority group in a number of Middle Eastern countries including Iran. Every day they face discriminatory underfunding and those who protest about their situation are liable to find themselves facing arrest, torture and death. Rasoul and Shiva wanted to reach Britain and put their lives in the hands of one of the many criminal gangs who put people in overcrowded, unsafe boats to cross the Channel and don’t give them another thought. They were desperate to find somewhere to bring up their children without the constant threat of violence.

We have all been made aware the dreadful conditions in which many migrants live, whether they have taken the decision to flee their home countries or, like the Rohingya Muslims of Myanmar, been forced out at the point of a gun. If we want to read the book of Ruth and hear God speak to us through it, we will find ourselves unable to close our hearts to the urgency of the need. Naomi, Ruth’s mother-in-law and her family were themselves economic migrants as desperate as their contemporary counterparts to flee famine and poverty.

The opening verse of the book of Ruth provides us with its setting in ‘the days when the Judges ruled’ (v 1). We already know that this was a time of instability and fairly constant conflict. Well, it was if we consider the stories of Israel’s leaders anything to go by. The movingly beautiful story of Ruth reminds us that we mustn’t overlook, in any society at any time, the stories of ordinary people trying to live their lives and do the right thing in difficult circumstances; another perspective to take into account in considering migration today. The picture of Bethlehem reflected in this story is of a place where people can find a home, look out for one another and talk to one another when issues, such as who will take the responsibility of a ‘kinsman-redeemer’ in marrying Ruth, come up.

One important detail easy to miss as we read between the lines is that at the beginning of the book they found hospitality and shelter in Moab (a traditional enemy of Israel), so much so that Naomi’s sons both married Moabite wives. And following the tragic deaths of all of their husbands Naomi and her two daughters-in-law share a moving conversation that takes up the second half of our reading. It is framed around the ‘hesed’, the loving kindness of God that Naomi wishes both Ruth and Orpah to experience. Whilst Orpah decides that she belongs back with her own people (and is not in any way judged for this), Ruth feels that she belongs with Naomi and her people. This sense of belonging goes beyond just living in a particular community. When Ruth says to Naomi that, ‘your people will be my people and your God my God.’ (v 16), she is expressing her total commitment to her new community. This is not saying that she would have been judged if she had not committed herself to Israel’s God and is not therefore a proof text telling us that when today’s refugees arrive at our shores they should immediately adopt our cultural norms.

What it is saying is that there is something beautiful about Ruth’s loyalty to her mother-in-law and the deep love that existed between them. They are two women who both know what it is like to lose loved ones and leave their homes and in this conversation we see them exploring personal loyalty and what it means to belong in ways that change their lives. In the case of Ruth it brings her to Boaz who goes the extra mile to protect her and eventually marries her. So from what perspective do we see those who have had to leave their homes and communities? How can we seek to protect and provide hospitality to the most vulnerable members of the communities in which we live and the wider world we are part of? How can we express the ‘hesed’, the loving kindness of God, to those who find themselves grieving for the loss of home and family? Our response could involve giving, campaigning and action. We might want to support an organisation such as the aptly named Boaz Trust (www.boaztrust.org.uk) working with destitute asylum seekers in Greater Manchester. Christian Aid (www.christian aid.org.uk) works with refugees around the world.

 Many people today, for all sorts of reasons, turn their back on refugees and migrants as if it’s ‘nothing to do with me’. Followers of Jesus cannot do that because that is not what he did. He stopped at the gate of Jericho for Bartimaeus (who we will meet again later), a blind man who had been excluded from his community and was begging on the streets. In doing so he cut right across those who were telling him to shut up and go away and, in loving him and healing him, demonstrated exactly the loving kindness we see in the book of Ruth. Jesus stopped; think about that. He stopped when he could have acceded to the crowd’s wishes and carried on out of the city. We too need to stop and hear the voices of those who are leaving home because their homes have been destroyed, who are drowning trying to cross the English Channel and who feel that nobody wants to offer them hospitality, welcome and a place to belong. In doing that we may need to think through how far we have come in overcoming our own inborn prejudices because those who end up far from home are, in an important sense, as much family as our own loved ones.

 

Questions: How have we responded to the needs of those who have become refugees? What more could we do?

Prayer: Lord Jesus, you yourself were a refugee in Egypt and know what it is like to have to leave home. Help us to open our hearts to the victims of war and poverty and help them, through the compassion and loving kindness of strangers like us, find, like Ruth, a place to belong. Amen.

 

27th February - Jephthah and his Daughter

Jephthah and his daughter: Judges 11 v 29-40: ‘She was an only child’

I’ll put my cards on the table straight away – I have a daughter and this story makes me recoil with horror. It’s not only that Jephthah’s action in killing his daughter (for whatever reason) is morally repugnant but also that God seems to be involved. We may well wish that this story was not to be found within the pages of the Bible but it is very important that we don’t use nifty footwork to bypass these difficult bits and stick to the passages we like. However reluctantly, we must address them.

Jephthah had a difficult start in life. He was the son of a prostitute whose exclusion from the Israelite community was engineered by his legitimate half-brothers. Growing up and then being chucked out of a family and nation in which you represent by your very existence the moral failings of your father must have left its mark on him, eating away at his self-esteem day by day. However the exploits of this mighty warrior and his band of followers had made a deep impression to the extent that the elders of Israel come knocking at his door when the Ammonites declare war (Judges 11 v 1-4). Jephthah makes the obvious point, ‘you’ve never wanted me around and you’ve only come crawling now because you are desperate!’ and, perhaps because he has very little trust in them, insists on being put in overall charge of the nation (v 9-11). It is in this meteoric rise of a complex and troubled man that the seeds of his catastrophic error of judgement lay.

We pick up his story after he has sent a placatory letter to the king of Ammon which has been ignored. This means war and Jephthah’s campaign is explicitly stated, uncomfortably to our ears, to be Spirit inspired (v 29). So why does he even make a vow that in the event of victory he would sacrifice the first thing that comes out of his house as a burnt offering? Did it never occur to him that it might be a member of his family, even his precious daughter? Reading verse 34 you can almost hear the storyteller weeping for this woman in the prime of life, especially in underlining that she was an only child.

I wonder if this is a case of somebody who approached a task feeling full of inspiration, thinking that the world was his oyster but who then took it too far and didn’t stop for a moment to think of the possible consequences. I think, in a different context, of Tony Blair who, in his early years as Prime Minister had some brilliant foreign policy successes (The Good Friday Agreement and the liberation of Kosovo spring readily to mind) but then, possibly as an example of prime ministerial hubris, allowed himself to get caught up in George W. Bush’s war against Iraq with its ongoing narrative of destruction and instability.

Those in positions of leadership do need to look themselves in the mirror on a regular basis, even or especially if they are successful, and remember that they remain flawed, fragile human beings. Peter Starstedt’s song, ‘Where do you go to my lovely’, said by some to be about the actress Sophia Loren, addresses an unnamed woman who has risen from an impoverished background to a position of great wealth. But the question he asks of her in the chorus is:

‘But where do you go to, my lovely

When you're alone in your bed?

Tell me the thoughts that surround you

I want to look inside your head, yes, I do’

The story of Jephthah is a cautionary tale about somebody who didn’t take the time just to stop and think - alone in his bed, as it were - and simply got carried away without thinking through the possible consequences. His daughter asks for a two month stay of execution to spend with her friends (very possibly it was a case of ‘with anyone but my father’) and, of course, there is the voice of another unnamed woman that we do not hear, that of Jephthah’s wife, the unknown mother of an only daughter whose screams of misery and wretchedness remain out of earshot. In our world just as much as the in the ancient world, the cries of those whose pain we would prefer not to hear, such as those whose children are dying daily of malnutrition, malaria or water borne diseases and those who are exploited so that citizens of affluent countries can buy cheap goods, so often fall on deaf ears.

I would imagine that all of us are familiar with the law of unintended consequences; we didn’t mean for this or that to happen and if we could turn back the clock we would. There was, of course, no way back for Jephthah, no way of ameliorating the suffering his family had to endure because of his rash vow.

And where is God in all this? Well we know that child sacrifice, common practice among many cultures at the time, was unacceptable to the Israelite nation; that’s really what the story of Abraham nearly sacrificing Isaac (Gen 22 v 1-18), a pretty uncomfortable read in its own right, is all about. Having said that, another profoundly uncomfortable passage in the Old Testament law instructs parents with rebellious sons to take them to the village elders for the purpose of being stoned to death (Deut 21 v 18-21). The violence that exists within the Old Testament story (bearing in mind that Jephthah was a warrior who laid waste to twenty Ammonite towns, no doubt involving wholesale slaughter - v 33) is difficult and troubling, especially as we see the shocking realities of ethnic conflict on a regular basis (as I write another such conflict, between Armenia and Azerbaijan over the disputed territory of Nagorno Karabakh, is causing much suffering).

So although both Jephthah’s sacrifice of his daughter and his slaughter of the people of Ammon were normative by the cultural mores of his time they are to us morally reprehensible and entirely unacceptable. It is in the light of the life, love, sacrifice and resurrection of Jesus, that God is clearly defined not as a tribal deity who requires enemies (or daughters if they are in the wrong place at the wrong time) to be eliminated but as a God of love who requires us to love our enemies rather than annihilate them. God committed himself to the nation of Israel, even to the extent that he allows the ‘Spirit of the Lord’ to become identified as the military protagonist (v 29), not because he is violent and vindictive.  The defining moment in their turbulent and tragic history, the moment this history is moving towards and would ultimately be defined by, was the coming of the Messiah, King Jesus, who, in an act of conscious non-violence on the cross fully reveals a God with passionate love for the entire human family, regardless of where they come from. Near that cross another mother, this time named as Mary, sheds bitter tears for the child of her womb, yet this time the grief at this death suffused into joy and hope in the face of the Risen Lord.

 

Questions: Have you ever got carried away and regretted it afterwards? How did you respond and how did it change your life? How good are you at stopping and thinking before making decisions?

Prayer: Lord, forgive us when we act without thinking and hurt other people. Give us wisdom and right judgement in all things. Amen.

26th February - Deborah

Deborah: Judges 4 v 4-16; 5 v 1-9: ‘I, Deborah, arose’

My imagination tells me that the time of the Judges must have been a bit like the Wild West. The very last verse of the book articulates this, ‘In those days Israel had no king; everyone did as they saw fit’ (Judges 21 v 25). The Israelites are now established in the land of Canaan but enemies such as the Midianites and the Amalekites are also about co-existing uneasily with them meaning that conflicts are breaking out on a regular basis. The people of Israel are also subject to a self-inflicted internal vicious cycle which might be summed up as follows:

  • The Israelites sin against God and are overcome by their enemies as a result.

  • They come to their senses and cry out to the Lord for help.

  • He send them Judges (such as Deborah) to deliver them.

  • They are delivered from danger and once again live in peace (until the next time!).

It is significant that one of the Judges that came to prominence and got them out of trouble was a woman. Deborah is introduced to us as a prophet and the leader of Israel at the time in which our passage is set (4 v 4). The story, as is normal in the book of Judges, involves a level of violence which doesn’t sit comfortably in an age when we see the suffering caused by conflict regularly on our television screens. Deborah is instrumental in delivering Israel in a story that famously ends up with a woman called Jael driving a tent peg through the head of Sisera, the commander of the Canaanite army, an act which leads to the destruction of their king.

Whilst military strategy is certainly part of Deborah’s job description, it also included regularly settling disputes between members of the Israelite community; something that Moses did, as we saw the other day, during the wilderness wanderings. Mainly because much of it is, the Bible can come across as heavily patriarchal; the vast majority, if not all of it, was written by men and its protagonists are also mainly male. It sometimes feels that we struggle to hear a female voice at all. Reflecting on this, I am reminded that when I was ordained in 1983, less than forty years ago, all those ordained with me were men. It wasn’t until 1994 that the first women were ordained as priests in the Church of England and the first woman bishop was not consecrated until 2015. In both the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox Churches women are still excluded from ordained ministry. There is still a long way to go!

And yet Deborah is not alone as a biblical woman carrying leadership responsibilities. In the New Testament, the first witness to the resurrection of Jesus was Mary Magdalene, who is sometimes known as the ‘apostle to the Apostles’ because she was the first to tell the disciples that Jesus had risen from the dead (John 20 v 18). A careful reading of the Acts of the Apostles reveals that women were very much involved in the leadership of the church. In Romans 16, Paul refers to Priscilla and Aquila as ‘my co-workers in Christ Jesus’ (v 3), meaning most obviously that they shared his evangelistic ministry and explicitly identifies Junia as an apostle (v 7). The evangelist Philip’s four daughters all shared a prophetic ministry (Acts 21 v 9) and the establishment of a Christian community in the house of Lydia strongly suggests (to me, at least) that she was exercising a leadership role (Acts 16 v 40). When Paul wrote to the Christian community in Galatia he affirmed that, ‘There is neither…male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus’ (Gal 3 v 28) he is implying that the social gulf in his time that made it a man’s world in every way was not to be reflected in the life of the church in which all are equal in God’s sight and where all, regardless of gender, are gifted by the Holy Spirit for all kinds of ministry. Goodness me, it’s taking us a very long time to get a handle on Paul’s radicalism!

The fact that these references exist in the Bible, written as it was over a long period of time in which patriarchal assumptions went largely unquestioned, is surely significant. Those assumptions, which have been unchallenged in most societies for most of human history, have still not been consigned to history, as the #MeToo movement highlighting the continuing abuse resulting in large part from them, has demonstrated. These assumptions mean that God is still overwhelmingly spoken about, written about and addressed as male, as in ‘Our Father…’ I wrote a blog post a while ago in which I used the word ‘she’ to refer to God and it was clear from the response that people still find this a difficult concept even though there are places in the Bible where female images are used with reference to God. For example in Isaiah 49 v 15 God says, ‘Can a woman forget her nursing child, or show no compassion for the child of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you.’ It demonstrates the enduring power of patriarchal assumptions that need challenging at every level in church and society if we are to reflect the inclusive love of Jesus.

At a time when men were overwhelmingly in charge of everything, it was Deborah’s wisdom and good judgement that led to her breaking the glass ceiling and assuming leadership of the people of Israel. It has been noted that a number of the countries that have coped best with the challenges of the coronavirus pandemic including Germany, New Zealand, Denmark, Finland, Taiwan and Bangladesh are all have female leaders. I find that deeply significant. The Inclusive Church movement widens this out calling for an end to discrimination in the church on the grounds of, ‘disability, economic power, ethnicity, gender, gender identity, learning disability, mental health, neurodiversity, or sexuality’. The calling of Christians everywhere is to make that statement real and visible in the life of the church, and the time is now. We have some work to do!

Questions: What do you think Paul means when he says, ‘there is neither male nor female’? In what practical ways does discrimination need to be addressed in the life of the church?

Prayer: Lord, thank you for the inclusive love of Jesus that reaches out to the overlooked and rejected. Help us to offer his unconditional love in our lives and churches. Amen.

25th February - Rahab

Rahab: Joshua 2 v 1-21; 6 v 22-25: ‘She tied the scarlet cord’

The journey from Jerusalem to Jericho is downhill all the way from nearly 2,500 feet above sea level to over 800 feet below. The abundance of water and the rich soil are two reasons why Jericho is believed to be one of the oldest inhabited cities in the world. It lies very close to the River Jordan and was therefore the first obstacle in the way of the Israelites as they entered the Promised Land after the death of Moses.

The story of Rahab involves an encounter between those practising what are reputed to be the two oldest professions in the world, prostitution and spying. The precise reason why Joshua’s two spies went to see a prostitute is a matter of some debate. There are those who see a certain amount of ribaldry in the account and suggest that they went there for the most obvious reason. Other suggest that Rahab was also running something akin to a bed and breakfast establishment offering the spies a place to hunker down in an altogether more innocent fashion.

It may well be that Rahab was a widow and was compelled to sell her body to keep food on the table and a roof over her head. Be that as it may she is an unlikely friend to the two Israelites, especially as they are enemy spies. She comes across as a resourceful woman capable of the quick thinking needed to get the spies well out of the way, deal with the king of Jericho’s henchmen and make absolutely sure that she and her wider family are kept safe when the city is attacked. She’s an unlikely hero.

Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan presents us with another unlikely hero, this time out of his vivid imagination. Whilst a priest and a Levite, both of them ‘good guys’, skirt around the traveller lying there naked and half dead, a passing Samaritan doesn’t just bind up his wounds but takes him to an inn and pays for his care. The antipathy between Jews and Samaritans meant that the sting in the tail for Jesus’ Jewish audience is that the one they intuitively despise and write off as ‘one of that lot’ is the one who acts with compassion and humanity. So for them to ‘go and do likewise’ (Luke 10 v 37) required a sea change in attitude as their inbred preconceptions and prejudices are profoundly challenged.

If we look at some of those we consider to be heroes of the Old Testament story we find they are also an unlikely bunch including a boaster (Joseph), a murderer (Moses), a trickster (Jacob), a bully and a liar (Samson) and a schemer (David). With this in mind we if we were to question Rahab’s motives we might find that they were somewhat mixed. Word had come to the city of the military achievements of the Israelites and perhaps helping the spies represented an insurance card for her and her family. Yet she took an enormous risk in fobbing off the king’s messengers; if she had been found out she would certainly have had to pay the ultimate price (as would her guests). That is why, even taking account of the undeniable fact that she lied to save her and their skins, the book of Hebrews celebrates her as an exemplar of faith (Heb 11 v 31) and the book of James declares her righteous (James 2 v 25).

The German industrialist Oscar Schindler is named on the ‘Righteous Among the Nations’ database held at Yad Vashem, the Holocaust memorial, on Mount Herzl in Jerusalem. He also makes for an unlikely hero. He was a philanderer who after the war abandoned his wife in South America and a member of the Nazi Party who spent much of his working life trying to make as much money as he possibly could by fair means or foul. Yet at great personal risk he rescued and protected well over a thousand Jews employed in his factories who would otherwise have been sent to concentration camps and certain death. In the film ‘Schindler’s List’, which vividly brings the extraordinary story to life, he is given a ring by those whose lives he saved bearing a quote from the Jewish Talmud, ‘he who saves a life saves the world entire’.

I wonder how many unlikely heroes are woven into the fabric of our life stories. People who we perhaps found challenging, who we fundamentally disagreed with, found we had little in common with, were tempted to dismiss yet who, in some way, gave us something precious. These might include a preacher who we didn’t necessarily warm to yet who said something in a sermon that fundamentally changed the shape of our Christian lives or the most argumentative member of our bible study group who comes up with an insight that was exactly what we needed to hear at that moment in our Christian journey. It might be somebody whose beliefs are very different to our own or whose lifestyle is morally questionable who offers us a kind word, some wise advice or genuine care and concern through which we recognise God’s voice. We write people off at our peril!

Which brings us to another important aspect of this - Christians do not have a monopoly on guiding us, inspiring us or witnessing to what is true. All my life I have loved the music of the English composer Ralph Vaughan Williams. Although he wrote quite a bit of church music and edited the English Hymnal he was an atheist in his youth and then settled into a ‘cheerful agnosticism’. At no point was he a professing Christian. However I find, for example, listening to his Pastoral Symphony, written as an elegy to the fallen in World War One (in which he had been a medical orderly on the Western Front) a spiritually enriching experience which brings me close to the one who suffered and died on the cross for me and for all.

Whilst it must be said that this not something in the conscious mind of the composer it is something I find in the beauty of the music. I think it is evidence of our having been created in the image of God to reflect a creative love that is written into the DNA of the universe. The thread that ties Rahab, Oscar Schindler and Ralph Vaughan Williams together is common humanity. God’s love is visible in all sorts of unexpected ways and through some pretty unlikely people (which we might feel includes ourselves) which means we need to keep open eyes and attentive hearts. There was plenty that was awry in Rahab’s life yet she was able to make the right call at the right time and recognise that the God of Israel is, ‘God in heaven above and on earth below’ (2 v 11). We may be tempted to write people off, God never does.

 

Questions: What difference do you think the insight that everyone, of all faiths and none, is made in the image of God makes to the way we treat other people? How can we make God’s love visible?

Prayer: Lord you are the Lord of heaven and earth; help us to be open to your love even when it seems to come from unexpected people and places. Amen.

24th February - Balaam

Balaam: Num 22 v 1-38; 24 v 1-13: ‘I could not…go beyond the command of the Lord’

Do we go along with the crowd or do we listen to what our heart is telling us? Do we ‘follow the money’ or do we focus our lives on doing the right thing regardless of the financial cost? These are the sorts of questions thrown up by the story of the somewhat enigmatic Balaam. He is depicted as a sort of professional soothsayer, a cross between a prophet and a diviner, on hire to Balak, the king of Moab, with the specific job of cursing the advancing Israelites who are threatening his territory as they continue their journey to the Promised Land.

In the Bible his subsequent reputation seems to have suffered somewhat as in the New Testament, both Peter (2 Peter 2 v 15-16) and Jude (v 11) disapproved strongly of his ‘cash for curses’ mode of employment. However today’s reading, complete with talking donkey, represents an occasion when he was demonstrably unable to do his job in the way his royal employer required of him.

Balak hires him for the simple reason that he is terrified of the Israelites following their military victory over the Amorites (22 v 2-3). As far as he is concerned, if Balaam does his job properly, for which he will be extremely well remunerated (22 v 17), Balak will at least have a shot at defeating them (22 v 6). It sounds a bit like an ancient version of something called the ‘speech act theory’ in which forms of words in and of themselves carry out an action. At a key point in the wedding service the celebrant says of the couple being married, ‘I therefore proclaim that they are husband and wife’. The words perform the action; the couple are now married (unlike in Gilbert and Sullivan’s comic opera The Mikado in which if you say it’s done you can pretend it’s done which sums up much of the political life of the early twenty first century). So, in the same way, once Balaam has pronounced a curse on the Israelites, they are cursed – end of!

On the surface, it’s a pretty straightforward job – curse the Israelites and collect the money. The problem is that he simply can’t do it. He is not an Israelite but nonetheless he starts having conversations with God which render him powerless to curse and therefore cost him his fee. Like all of us, he appears to have had mixed motives, which explains why, even after agreeing to go with Balak’s men at God’s behest (v 20), he then finds his way blocked by an angel (v 22f) – perhaps he had had second thoughts overnight and remembered the money on offer!

Following his conversation with his donkey (reminding us that, whatever the historical core of this story, it has clearly been embellished!) and his encounter with an angel en route, when he finally meets Balak he fully and finally realises that cursing those whom God has blessed can’t be done. In other words he has to do and say the right thing in spite of any financial misgivings he might have had. In Numbers chapters 23 and 24 Balaam’s words of blessing are recorded for us and the message is unambiguous; if even a mercenary soothsayer who seems to be devoid of any moral compass ends up, for once in his life, doing and saying the right thing, how much more, as God’s people, should we listen to his still, small voice when faced with difficult choices in life. It might well be that the course of action that God calls us to is very far from being the most financially advantageous, the least complex or the easiest. But when we know in the core of our being where God is leading us we just need to do the right thing. This is not the same as being reckless and we always need to stop, think and pray rather than rush headlong, taking into account what our sense of vocation (whether that be a major decision affecting our career or a sense that someone in need requires our help) will mean for those we love and care for. But we are called to offer an alternative way of doing life to the one that obsesses over financial gain, ambition, looking good and finding significance in what we possess rather than who we are. Our spiritual health depends on it.

It’s worth bearing in mind that Moses, not mentioned in this story as such but hovering over it as the leader of the people who are disturbing Balak’s peace of mind, himself gave up a position of privilege in Egypt to follow God’s call to set his people free. As Christians we need also to remember that Jesus lived with and ministered to those on the margins of society rather than its movers and shakers, and brought blessing to many who were living without hope. We are called to extend that blessing as we share his love, work for justice and peace, come alongside the broken hearted, give generously and pray for those in any kind of need. Framing our lives around what is advantageous to us without giving any thought to the needs of others is a road to nowhere. This will have implications for how we use the resources entrusted to us by God (especially as those living in one of the richest nations on earth in which the divide between the rich and powerful and the poor and most vulnerable is stark). It also has implications for how we respond to such things as the way global trading arrangements benefit wealthy countries and how the effects of climate change are visited most lethally on those least responsible for them. Let us learn not to be a curse to those who suffer because of our desire for a comfortable life and learn to be a blessing as we (with reference to the examples given above) buy responsibly and reduce our carbon footprint. It will means some giving up on our part but we do this and more as those who follow the one who gave up everything for us.

 

Questions: Why is the love of money the root of all evil? What might we need to give up in order to address the challenges of climate change?

 Prayer: Lord, help us when we make important decisions to do the right thing rather than that which suits us best. Amen.

23rd February - Jethro

Jethro: Exodus 18 v 1-27: ‘The work is too heavy for you’

 I’m a big fan of Jethro! He comes across as pretty much the perfect father-in-law, full of wisdom and good advice. He had received his daughter, Moses’s wife Zipporah, and their children back when things were looking dangerous in Egypt (v 2); a wise move given that Moses had got on the wrong side of one of the superpowers of the time. In our passage he visits the people of Israel in the middle of the desert at a time when Moses’s leadership of the newly liberated community is under strain owing to the unsustainable hours and level of responsibility, as well as the not inconsiderable amount of grumbling about him that was going on. Leadership in such self-inflicted circumstances can be profoundly isolating and the danger is that it can lead to a growing inability to understand or empathise with those needing help and guidance.

 Jethro, as a priest of Midian and an outsider, at no point joins the Exodus as such (he just goes home in verse 27), but nevertheless has a profound regard for the God of the Hebrews (v 11) and cares very much for his son-in-law and the people he is trying to lead. It is a reminder to us that good advice, loving support and wisdom are not unique to Christians and often come from outside our own community of faith (something to which we should be perennially open). There is an echo of this story in the Book of Acts as the apostles try to carry a similarly insupportable burden of responsibility (Acts 6 v 1-6) as they try to balance preaching the good news (with all its attendant risks) with caring for the burgeoning Christian community. The crunch comes (as it always will for those trying to do far too much) when a row breaks out regarding the daily distribution of alms. The upshot is that the Apostles appoint seven deacons (v 3) to look after the day to day pastoral concerns of the community meaning that the Peter and the other eleven can now entirely focus on the apostolic mission they have been called to.

 Delegation is an underrated skill! When leaders try to do everything, it isn’t only very bad for them, their families and often their health; it is also frustrating for the capable people around them who are not trusted with responsibility. Bezalel and Oholiab, who we were considering yesterday, would not have been able to construct and beautify the Temple on their own; they needed many skilled and motivated colleagues to get everything done. The need to delegate holds true in every sphere of life including the church! Whether we are talking about the organisation of the government or the local branch of the Mother’s Union, leaders will thrive and others will feel that they are being affirmed and valued when delegation takes place. As businesswoman Jessica Jackley puts it, ‘Deciding what not to do is as important as deciding what to do.’

 Having been involved in church leadership for well over thirty years I have learned from experience something of what the issues are. Handing things over can sometimes feel like an abrogation of a responsibility accepted at ordination. There are times when it is difficult to let go and trust other people to do things that you feel - usually wrongly! – that you could do better (or at least in the way you really want it done) and even a sense of ‘what I am here for?’ when talented others are getting good things done. The inherited shape of ministry in the Church of England was what we might call the ‘bus’ model. The vicar is behind the wheel, as it were, making the important decisions and doing the important jobs while members of the congregation sit in their seats passively. We have moved on from there thankfully! There is much more of an emphasis on ‘every member ministry’ in the local church and it has been wonderful over the years I’ve been in ministry to see many people take on tasks and ministries and grow into them (whilst bearing in mind that sometimes they haven’t and that therefore leadership isn’t about always getting it 100% right).

 Those who took on responsibility as officials ‘over thousands, hundreds, fifties and tens, (v 21) ensured both that more got done and that it was done better. It was not a moment of moral failure for Moses; it was actually a moment of liberation. With the new organisational structure in place he was able to concentrate on the really difficult and contentious issues (v 22) that he was, with his experience of leadership, best placed to deal with. Whenever you get sucked into trying to ‘do it all’, whether you are co-ordinating a project at church, taking on responsibility at work, caring for a loved one or helping to run a group or initiative in your local community it is not a failure to feel overwhelmed and not a reflection of inadequacy to ask for help and share the burden. Like Moses, we are all human beings and therefore can only do so much. It is a real blessing to have wise friends, like Jethro, who are prepared, gently but firmly, to tell us the truth and, quite possibly, save us from ourselves. Remember God values us most for who we are rather than what we do.

 

Questions: Have you ever tried to do too much? What were the results and what did you learn about yourself and God?

 Prayer: Lord, you made us as we are, help us to accept that we can only do so much. Amen.

22nd February - Bezalel and Oholiab

Monday February 22nd: Bezalel and Oholiab: Exodus 31 v 1-11: ‘See I have chosen…’

 Back in the 1990s I remember visiting the (now defunct) Waterford Crystal plant in Ireland. I was very struck by the fact that becoming a glass blower or cutter (you had to decide which you wanted to be – one or the other rather than both – at the beginning of your training) required an eight year apprenticeship. This sounded far-fetched but seeing the quality (and price) of the finished items for sale in the shop at the end of the tour, the immense skill of such expert craftspeople was on display for all to see.

 It’s lovely and very significant that the book of Exodus pays tribute to the wonderful God given skills of Bezalel and Oholiab. The Tent of Meeting, which they were so instrumental in beautifying, was a sort of mobile worship space that, as the Israelites moved around in the wilderness, could be packed up and carried with them. It housed the Ark of the Covenant, containing the Ten Commandments written on stone tablets, and was the place in which the presence of God was localised; in that sense being a portable precursor to the Jerusalem Temple.

 Bezalel, Oholiab and their colleagues were able to make it into a very beautiful space which greatly enhanced the sense of God’s presence within. They had a pretty wide remit that included the decoration of the Tent of Meeting, the Ark of the Covenant itself, everything necessary for sacrificial offerings to be made and the garments worn by the priests. We can imagine them working together to create somewhere wonderful for the worship of God. It puts me a little in mind of the television programme DIY SOS in which tradesmen of all kinds; bricklayers, plasterers, joiners, plumbers, electricians, landscape gardeners and many others come together to give their time and skills to create a beautiful home for family with particular needs who are not able to help themselves. In their hard hats and heavy boots they are using their considerable gifts and expertise to create a space in which a family can live and thrive. I don’t think that Bezalel, Oholiab and their colleagues had hard hats or hobnail boots and they used far more primitive tools than their latter day counterparts, but they produced something of immense beauty that worked powerfully on those who came there to worship.

 The church buildings we worship in, whether they are ancient or modern were all built to enhance Christian worship. Stonemasons, glass blowers and cutters, carpenters, joiners, artists, needle workers, candle makers and many other craftspeople have beautified our churches. In that sense they continue to minister to members of church families across the world who sing, pray, share bread and wine and have fellowship in them (when there isn’t a pandemic). For instance the art of creating stained glass is an amazing skill. Whether dating from ancient or modern times, it is there to tell stories and express profound truths in a way that words cannot. For example the panels in the 13th century Sainte-Chappelle in Paris depict over a thousand figures from the Old and New Testaments reflecting the need for visual storytelling in an era where few people could read. But I also vividly remember being struck by a depiction of the astronaut John Glenn in Grace Cathedral in San Francisco, built in the 20th century, which powerfully symbolised the basic and God given human yearning for exploration and discovery. What Bezalel, Oholiab and their latter day colleagues are able to do is transcend words as they open hearts and imaginations to the reality of God’s love and the transformation of humanity that results from responding to it.

 We read in Exodus 31 of Bezalel that God had ‘…filled him with the Spirit of God, with skill, ability and knowledge…’ (v 3). A few verses further on God declares, with reference to Oholiab and those working with him, that ‘I have given ability to all the skilled workers…’ (v 6). Although it might be tempting to see gifts such as these as more natural than spiritual that would be a big mistake. Whether worship is taking place in an ancient tabernacle or a modern church it is not just the leaders ‘up front’ who using God’s gifts. In Paul’s list of spiritual gifts alongside such things as teaching and healing we find other qualities such as administrative abilities that on the surface might seem more mundane (1 Corinthians 12 v 28).

 Continuing this line of thought reminds us that every human being has been given gifts by God. And whilst some of them, such as preaching, teaching, offering pastoral care and leading worship as well as administration and creating stained glass windows, are specifically for use in church, there are so many more! Some are gifted technicians, sportspeople, cooks, engineers, school teachers, doctors, nurses, designers, artists, plasterers, decorators, builders, cleaners, woodworkers, organisers, listeners, carers, encouragers and gardeners, to name but a very few of many. Everything we are and all we can do is a gift from God to us and through us to others. And the great thing is that each of us has something unique to offer. In an age that idolises fame it’s easy to feel that we are useless and have nothing of any value to contribute. But Bezalel, Oholiab and their unnamed colleagues remind us that God is no respecter of persons and inspires those gifted people who work quietly in the background and just get on with it without asking for their names to be up in lights. What is it that you uniquely have to offer? It may even be something you haven’t discovered yet!

 

Questions: Do we sometimes feel useless? What is the antidote?

 Prayer: Lord, you have given so many gifts to humanity. Help us to use the gifts you give us for the good of others and the growth of your kingdom. Amen.