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In a recent blog post, I presented the first of a three part meditation on ‘the call’ of Samuel, as recorded in 1 Samuel 3.  It was entitled ‘Samuel – the boy’. This is part two.

A tale of two boys and a cat

I want to start by telling you about two boys named Samuel. And a cat.

The Jewish historian Josephus believed that the biblical character, Samuel, was about 11 years old when God called him.  That 11-year-old boy feels so distant, his story being set half a world away and over 3000 years ago. The cat, however, pictured below, connects me to a flesh-and-blood 11-year-old boy named Samuel right here, right now. Visualising the Australian Samuel of 2021 helps me better imagine the Jewish Samuel of approximately 1070 BC.

So what does the boy, Samuel, have to do with the cat? The cat in the photo above was born about a year before ‘my’ Samuel. She was part of Samuel’s family long before she ever became fond of me.

When Samuel was six years old and the cat seven, the family moved interstate. The cat stayed with me ‘just until the family got settled’. By that time, I was loathe to let her go. The family agreed that she could stay. Hence I am somehow related to Samuel’s family … through the cat. 

Aussie Samuel

‘My’ Samuel is a fun-loving boy. He once changed the alarm for the timer on my phone to sound like a duck, and set it to go off during dinner. He just about fell of his chair in laughter as we adults tried to figure out where the quacking was coming from. Although I have since changed phones, I have kept the duck as my timer sound because it reminds me of a very special boy.

‘Aussie Samuel’ is an avid reader. After I visited them one time, he asked about my reading material for the trip home. “What do you like to read?” he asked.  “I like a good story with some action,” I replied. Before I left, I had been persuaded to download an Alex Horowitz book called ‘Alex Rider – Stormbreaker’. I thoroughly enjoyed it. It looks rather out of place in my Kindle library amongst the more boring titles.

Perhaps you have an eleven-year-old boy in your life that you can picture as we work through this blog post about the Jewish youth, Samuel. For that Samuel, growing up in the Tabernacle of God under elderly Eli’s care, was just as much a flesh-and-blood kid as any other 11-year-old in any other time and place.

And so now let’s look at the story of ‘the call’ of the Jewish Samuel of three millennia ago. 

The call

“Samuel, Samuel,” God called.

This was the first time that Samuel had heard God’s voice. It would not be the last. 

What did the voice sound like, I wonder? Samuel assumed it was the voice of the old priest, Eli, at first, so it must have sounded similar. Some passages in the Bible sometimes describe the voice of God as being like that of a man, but at other times it is described as sounding like trumpet blasts and thundering water. In one instance, it was like a whisper in the silence. 

In this case, Samuel twice responded to the voice by running to Eli. But then Eli instructed him to respond with the sentence that has been oft-repeated by praying people since: “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.” 

Interestingly, although Eli told him to say, “Speak, Yahweh, for your servant is listening,” Samuel omitted the name of God in his response to the divine call. Was he reluctant to speak the name of the Almighty One? He was quick to identify himself as the servant of the one calling him, at any rate. 

God had news for Samuel, but it was a difficult news. God wanted this 11-year-old boy to know ahead of time how God would act in judgement against this family that had basically raised him. No wonder Samuel was afraid to tell Eli the next morning about the news he had received. 

Eli had actually already been given this awful message of judgement – see 1 Samuel 2 – so it would not have come as a shock. If anything, the repetition of this message through young Samuel would have served to confirm to Eli that the words were from God himself. All Samuel had been told did indeed come to pass.

What God gave Samuel wasn’t exactly a call to a particular role, but foreknowledge. We talk of ‘Samuel’s Call’ but the extent of ‘the call’ was the voice in the night calling his name. God didn’t ‘call’ Samuel with a suggestion that Samuel might like to be a prophet. Samuel had no say in the matter. He called Samuel because he was a prophet and that’s what prophets do … they hear from God and relay what they hear.

I imagine that Samuel had gone to bed a child that evening. The next day, after a broken night’s sleep, he arose a young man with a heavy responsibility. 

God’s call of others

At various times in history, God has very specifically ‘called’ individuals for particular tasks. Their ‘calls’ seldom came in the form of an invitation. Sometimes they were told what they were to do, but other times, they just found themselves living out God’s call on their lives.

Think of Adam and Eve, working in the Garden of Eden. Or of Joseph’s role in preparing a place of refuge for his family in Egypt, then Moses’ role some 400 years later in leading the people out again. One of my personal favourites is a man named Bezalel, whom God specifically chose and filled with his Spirit to be a master craftsman and a good teacher – that story is recorded in Exodus 31:1-5. Bezalel and his team made the beautiful things, rich with symbolism, in the tabernacle in which Samuel lived at the time of the events described in 1 Samuel 3. 

As Christians, we are each filled with God’s Spirit and uniquely placed to play a role in God’s community, the church. The New Testament contains lists of possible roles for each of us. (See 1 Corinthians 12 and Romans 12, for example.)  Some of us are good at administration; others of us are powerful preachers. ‘The gift of encouragement’ is one that I particularly appreciate (Romans 12:8). We are to exercise our gifts and pull together as one body for the common good. Just look around and thank God for the way he has gifted us all differently. 

Specific calls

At the same time, I admit that Samuel’s call was unmistakably clear. How do we know what God is asking of us today? I have never heard God’s voice calling, “Suzanne, Suzanne” in the middle of the night. 

Books have been written in answer to the question, ‘How does God call us to specific roles today?’ The life of the Apostle Paul provides plenty of examples of a man receiving divine direction. Sometimes it was crystal clear; other times it was a decision made by a committee; sometimes it was a result of other options being blocked; other times certain directions were forced on him by circumstances. 

Let me make a few suggestions about recognising and responding to God’s call on us to specific tasks, and illustrate them with a quick story of my own. 

First, be open to what God might be asking of you. Be attentive to an unrest in your spirit or a spark of excitement.

Second, pray about it. Ask God to confirm or direct or ‘close doors’ and be looking for how he might be answering that prayer. Look for a sense of peace or dis-ease (not ‘disease’ but ‘dis-ease’ … though the two are quite similar).

Third, ask others whom you respect and who know you to pray with you. Ask for their prayerful feedback. 

Fourth, try moving gently in that direction and see what happens.  It might not be what you were expecting, but God’s sovereignty is reassuring.

A contemporary example

I have many stories which I could share to illustrate this discernment process, but will limit myself to just one. 

In 2012, I moved back to Asia, where I had previously lived for a decade. I had seen a particular role advertised and my spirit had leapt at it. It involved teaching English in a small company while working alongside and under Asian brothers and sisters in a part of the world which fascinated me. I had prayed, talked with wise people and then applied to go. Other things with my role at that time in Australia were coming to a natural transition point. All up, it seemed like God’s hand was all over the move. 

It was good to get back to Asia but nothing – nothing – worked out as I had anticipated. I will spare you the details but suffice to say that I wondered why on earth God had led me so clearly then … apparently … had dropped me. 

The ‘member care manager’ of the network through which my placement was organised, however, saw things differently. She was retiring and had been praying about a replacement. When she had realised that I had experience in Asia, reasonable language ability in the majority language there and in English, and had worked in a sending office, she had decided that I was the object of God’s succession plan for her. When the labour permit, needed to get a long-term visa in the company in which I was to work, fell through, she quietly gave thanks. She invited me out for tea and explained her plan. 

Never would I have applied for the role she had in mind for me. It involved office work, serving fellow foreigners, lots of administration, and, as I would soon realise, significant conflict. (Mostly, my involvement in conflict was as a concerned onlooker, just for the record.)  All this was necessary for the organisation but none of it was appealing … not to me, at least.

Looking back, though, I can see that God’s hand was all over that placement. My unique mix of training, personality and history made me ideally suited to that role during a particularly tricky period of the network’s history. My profession made a visa relatively straightforward, as education was the focus of the local company through which we worked. Furthermore, the most rewarding ministry of my whole cross-cultural career came about through church involvement in that city at that time. That’s another story.

At the end of my three-year term, my work role finished … in fact, the whole network closed down … and  I returned to Australia. As it turned out, I found myself in just the right place at just the right time to receive medical treatment for a serious but previously misdiagnosed medical condition. That is another story again. 

In terms of ‘call’, then, let me just say that we don’t all hear voices in the night calling our name. God does, however, lead us through life as we actively listen. I count it a privilege to have participated in God’s work in that part of the world during that particular time.

Here and now

Will we … will I … say with Samuel, “Speak, for your servant is listening”? 

What does it meant to listen? 

As I write, one part of my mix-n-match job description … the study part … will come to a natural conclusion in the middle of the year. (Assuming, of course, that I work hard this semester.) As I consider what will take up that approximately 0.3 workload allocation, I will need to be looking, listening and praying, “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.”

Perhaps we are ‘called’ to do big, important things in God’s kingdom. Perhaps our roles are less flashy, such as those who are gifted encouragers and so play a significant but not obvious role in God’s work. Perhaps we are simply to endure through difficulties, keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus … though I hope that isn’t my call for this next chapter of life, and have no reason to expect that it will be.

Whatever our call, we are called to be ourselves, Spirit-filled gifted individuals, in the communities in which God has placed us. As we do this, ever attune to the nudges of the Holy Spirit, may God use us for his glory and the expansion and consolidation of his kingdom. 

Back to the cat and her boy

The Samuel to whom I am somewhat related through the cat continues to grow up in a loving home with his parents, siblings and a dog. His life is far removed from that of the Biblical Samuel after whom he was named.

The same God who spoke to Jewish Samuel some three millennia ago continues to speak to us today. Sometimes his call is loud and clear. At other times it is calm and quiet. He does not always invite us to share in his work. Sometimes he just tells us what he is doing. And sometimes, we simply find ourselves living it.

My prayer for Australian Samuel is that as he matures into a young man, he, too, will respond to God’s call on his life with the words, “Speak, for your servant is listening.” That’s my prayer for his middle-aged cat-aunt too … that’s me, by the way.

God made us. God equips us. God knows us. God calls us.

How will we respond?

I recently had the privilege of teaching from 1 Samuel 3. In order to give structure to the talk, I divided the passage into three parts – Samuel the boy, Samuel the youth and Samuel the man. This blog post is based on part 1 of that talk – Samuel, the boy.

1 Samuel 3:1-9

This first part of 1 Samuel 3 is rich in history and culture. Yet when many of us study this passage, it barely features except to ‘set the scene’ of God’s call to Samuel. I admit that when I prepared the talk, I also intended to skip over it in order to ‘get to the main point’.

I’m glad I didn’t.

The main application that I take from this passage is this: God is with us even when life feels dark.

God is with us even when life feels dark.

Samuel

In verse 1 of 1 Samuel chapter 3, we read that Samuel ministered before the LORD under Eli. 

You most likely know the background to this story. Samuel was the first child born to a woman named Hannah. This poor lady had desperately wanted children, but it hadn’t happened. Some years earlier, she had prayed passionately about her childlessness at this very tabernacle. Eli had mistaken her grief for drunkenness and had spoken sharply to the distraught woman. After realising his mistake, the old man had then blessed her. “Go in peace,” he had told her, “and may the God of Israel grant you what you have asked of him.”

Samuel was born the following year. In recognition of God’s goodness, Samuel’s mother brought him back to this same priest when he was just a little boy. Her desire, which her husband endorsed, was that Samuel would grow up in the tabernacle of God. Every year, Hannah would visit and bring her son new and bigger clothes, but the boy would no longer live with his birth family.

Hannah had five more children after Samuel. 

A child who ministered

In verse 1 of 1 Samuel chapter 3, we read that Samuel ministered before the LORD under Eli. 

In my community in Australia, a mother wouldn’t think of offering her child to God by sending them to work in a church when their peers would just be starting pre-school. However, in parts of the world I regularly visit, children are often sent to Buddhist temples as gestures of devotion.

It’s sad for the child to be separated from their family and they work hard in both practical and religious activities. Yet it also often means that the child gets an education and that their physical needs are met. It’s not as uncommon as we might imagine here in Australia. 

Do you remember the horrendous days during which 12 Thai boys and their soccer coach were stuck in a cave in northern Thailand in 2018? Amazingly, all 12 boys and the coach were rescued. One of those boys was a Christian, a stateless kid whose family had fled across the Thai border to escape persecution and violence. Long before his ordeal in the cave, his parents had delivered him to a local Thai Baptist church. He lives at the church and is growing up in a multicultural multi-lingual setting. His English skills would serve his group well when their English-speaking rescuers first arrived.

As for his 11 Buddhist team-mates, they later became child-monks, though for just nine days. It was an expression of gratitude and of honour to a Thai diver who had lost his life in the rescue effort. Their coach, who had previously served as a monk for some time, undertook another longer period of service in a monastery too.

Perhaps Hannah’s decision to send her son to minister under Eli before the LORD so long ago is not that unusual after all. It just feels very strange to an individualistic Australian woman like me.

Eli

In verse 1 of 1 Samuel chapter 3, we read that Samuel ministered before the LORD under Eli. 

Eli was the head priest at the time and quite an old man by this stage. His eyes were becoming so weak that he could barely see. He was a heavy man too – we read about that in the account of his death sometime later at age 98 (see 1 Samuel 4). Eli was a bit of a softie, I imagine, and not a strict disciplinarian. There is no mention of his wife, but the Bible says a lot about his sons.

Eli’s sons were grown up by the time Samuel moved in and they also served as priests in Israel. In 1 Samuel chapter 2, we read that they were bad priests. They did dreadful things to God’s people and did not treat the people’s offerings as holy. There is still abuse of power amongst God’s leaders today, as the media frequently reminds us. It’s an age-old problem.

God would not tolerate the behaviour of Eli’s sons for long, but for a time, it was allowed to continue. In his sovereignty, God even permitted these vile men to be around the tender young child who would become Israel’s great prophet – Samuel. In fact, as we shall see in the next section, what we think of as ‘Samuel’s call’ was actually God’s proclamation of judgement on this family.  

What an environment for a boy to grow up in. Samuel was far from his family of origin, loosely incorporated into a dysfunctional family, and all within the setting of a holy tabernacle with the trimmings of worship but in which there was tremendous abuse of power and privilege.

Yet in it all, God was present.

In those days the word of the LORD was rare

1 Samuel 3:1b tells us that “In those days the word of the LORD was rare; there were not many visions.”

The priests still went through the motions of worship. Certainly Samuel’s parents, along with many others, went to the tabernacle every year to worship in the ways prescribed for Jews back then.

It perhaps felt like God was absent. Yet God had great plans for Samuel and the whole nation. 1 Samuel 3:7 says that “Samuel did not yet know the LORD: The word of the LORD had not yet been revealed to him.” But all that was about to change. Samuel was well positioned to act when he did hear the divine call.

The story of Samuel’s childhood reinforces to me the value of raising kids in the knowledge and fear of the LORD. We need not go to the lengths that Hannah did in delivering her son to the tabernacle and handing him over to the clergy, of course. Sadly, we must be wary of broken people who abuse their power and position. The child protection documentation and strategies of our modern world are needed. Despite it all, may we persevere in raising kids to know the Lord.

The newly appointed vice-president of the USA took her vows with her hand on the Bible which had belonged to a neighbour. I keep well away from writing about American politics. I don’t know or understand enough to justify a public opinion. However, it is not contentious to relate the story of a good Christian neighbour who had a profound effect on Vice-President Harris as a child. In the vice-president’s own words,

On Sundays, we’d pile into the back of Mrs. Shelton’s station wagon along with other kids, on the way to the 23rd Avenue Church of God….

Mrs. Shelton would bring her Bible to church every Sunday. Sitting alongside her, I was introduced to the teachings of that Bible. My earliest memories were of a loving God, a God who asked us to “speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves” and to “defend the rights of the poor and needy.”

https://www.bustle.com/news/without-this-woman-i-wouldnt-be-the-senator-i-am-today-15910352 written by Kamala Harris 5 Feb 2019 and accessed 8 Feb 2021

May God bless Sunday school teachers and others who intentionally build into young lives. It may feel like their service is a bit of a slog at times, but God alone knows who those under their influence will one day become.

No ordinary bedroom

One night Eli … was lying down in his usual place. The lamp of God had not yet gone out, and Samuel was lying down in the house of the LORD, where the ark of God was.

1 Samuel 3:2a, 3 NIV

I wonder where Eli usually slept? I wonder where Samuel slept? Did they have beds? Surely they had something to cushion the hard surface and blankets to keep them warm at night. Did they have pillows back then? Sheets? So many questions……

One thing is sure. Samuel slept in a place which was no ordinary bedroom. He slept in the house of the LORD, where the ark of God was!

The ark of God

I cannot fathom, however, that Samuel actually slept in sight of the ark of God. The ark was in the house of the LORD, yes, and that was where Samuel slept, but the ark of God was incredibly holy. No ordinary person could even approach it according to the instructions given through Moses several generations earlier. Only priests could draw near it and then only after ceremonial cleansing.

The ark of God was basically a wooden box, covered in gold, with carry poles either side. Over this very special box were figures of cherubim, angel-like creatures, their wings outstretched. Inside the box were the stone tablets on which God’s Law was inscribed, a pot of manna and the staff of the ancient priest, Aaron. It was said that God would sit on the box between the cherubim – ‘the mercy seat,’ they called it. (See Exodus 25 and Hebrews 9.)

No, Samuel slept in the house of the LORD where the ark was, but not actually physically near the ark of God … not without a curtain to separate it from him, at least. That’s my understanding from other parts of Scripture, anyhow. Besides which, for a young boy … or even for a middle-aged woman … the ark of God would have been terrifying in its holiness, with the high standards of God outlined in the law written on those stone tablets within it.

At the same time, in 1 Samuel 4, we read of how the people of Samuel’s day would soon take the Ark of God into battle with them as a kind of talisman, something with power to protect them. So perhaps they didn’t treat it with the honour it deserved, though that, too, would change in the coming years.

The lamp of God

This passage also refers to the ‘lamp of God’. Through Moses, God had given very specific instructions about one particular lampstand there in the Tabernacle. Since this lamp in 1 Samuel 3 is described as ‘the lamp of God’, it seems reasonable to assume that it is the one and the same.

The lampstand was fancy, made of pure gold and featuring almond flowers, buds and blossoms. It is described in detail in Exodus 25, and was made according to the pattern prescribed by the Almighty One himself from a mountain of fire and thunder.

The Israelite priests were to ensure that the flames never went out. This is what God had instructed his people through Moses on the matter:

Command the Israelites to bring you clear oil of pressed olives for the light so that the lamps may be kept burning continually. … Aaron is to tend the lamps before the LORD from evening till morning continually. This is to be a lasting ordinance for the generations to come. The lamps on the pure gold lamp stand before the LORD must be tended continually.

Leviticus 24:1-4 NIV

1 Samuel 3:3 suggests that the priests might have become slack on that front. “The lamp of God had not yet gone out….”, the verse says. Mind you, given that Eli was almost blind and that his sons abused their position, it is hardly surprising that nobody did what was needed to keep the lights burning all night.

I wonder if one of Samuel’s job’s was to top up the oil during the night? And how anyone could manage that without alarm clocks, let alone a boy?  

Jesus and lampstands

To modern Christians such as ourselves, lampstands like this are also symbolic. About 1000 years after Samuel’s day, the apostle John would be granted a vision in which lampstands would feature. I shall copy here an excerpt of John’s account.

I, John, your brother and companion in the suffering and kingdom and patient endurance…. On the Lord’s Day I was in the Spirit, and I heard behind me a loud voice like a trumpet….

I turned around to see the voice that was speaking to me. And when I turned I saw seven golden lampstands, and among the lampstands was someone like a son of man…..

His face was like the sun shining in all its brilliance. When I saw him, I fell at his feet as though dead. Then he placed his right hand on me and said: “Do not be afraid. I am the First and the Last. I am the Living One; I was dead, and now look, I am alive for ever and ever! And I hold the keys of death and Hades….

“The mystery of … the seven golden lampstands is this: … the seven lampstands are the seven churches.

Revelation 1:9a,10, 12-13a, 16b-18, 20b NIV

The passage starts with John’s suffering. He then saw lampstands and, amongst them, a figure terrifying in its holiness. That figure was Jesus, and the lampstands were the churches. That is us. It is all of us who follow Jesus in this broken and confusing world.

Jesus is present. He is with us as we muddle our way through life. He doesn’t condone our misdemeanours anymore than he did the sins (active or passive) of the churches which were addressed in John’s Revelation. But he is with us, and that spurs us on to persevere in our faith.

Light and darkness

I wonder if you can identify with the boy Samuel? Do you ever feel like life is unfathomable … you can’t make head or tail of what is going on? Do you ever feel like life is spinning out of control? Health – finances – relationships – a pandemic – disappointments – pressures at work or in study – grief? Do you ever feel like evil is present and winning? Do you ever feel like God is distant? Do you feel like the world is in darkness?

Be encouraged. Stand firm. God is with us. His light shines through us. And in his great sovereignty, that light never will be extinguished. It isn’t up to us to keep the lights burning. God has done it, and he has great things in store for his creation through Jesus.

Even when it feels like darkness surrounds us, God is present.

Stand firm.

(PS As well as standing firm, volunteer for the Sunday school roster. I literally did just that after putting together this talk-cum-blog-post.)

(This is the text of a devotion I gave to some fellow Christian workers this week. I am sharing it here with only a few minor tweaks.)

We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation.                     

Romans 5: 3-4  NLT

It’s my privilege to help us think about a couple of verses I don’t  particularly like but which have become very special to me in recent years. They are about rejoicing in difficulties.

When I am hurting, I don’t want to be told to rejoice. And I am certainly not going to tell anybody else I care about who is in the midst of despair ‘to rejoice’. The apostle Paul, however, told us that we can rejoice in problems and trials. And this is the passage that we have been asked to meditate on today. So here we are. 

Suffering and Buddhism

Buddhism has a lot to say about suffering. In fact, in many ways, Buddhism is all about the ‘why’ of suffering and ‘how to’ for avoiding it.

About 2 1/2 millennia ago, the one recognised as the first Buddha was motivated to meditate after witnessing suffering. He was protected from the harsh realities of life for a while, but it was impossible to completely avoid encountering things like illness, poverty and injustice. One particularly lengthy period of meditation culminated in what Buddhists call ‘enlightenment’.

And that, we are told, is how Buddhism began. Buddhism is primarily about how to avoid suffering. Avoiding attachment helps temporarily. The great hope of Buddhism is to eventually escape samsara, the cycle of suffering.

Suffering today

We all witness and experience suffering. Perhaps it relates to frustrations and disappointments in ministry. Maybe it is due to financial pressure or illness or isolation. Certainly covid and the restrictions imposed in an effort to limit its spread have created enormous difficulties, isolation and deep sadness for many. For people living from pay check to pay check and especially for those without some form of social security, the economic impact of covid has caused tremendous suffering.

How can we make sense of suffering? The passage we are looking at today even tells us to rejoice (or glory) in suffering. Is that even possible?

Suffering and faith in Christ

The Bible directly addresses the ‘why’ of suffering too, as well as touching on the ‘how to’ of dealing with it. In what the Bible terms as ‘the kingdom of light’, we are called not to avoid suffering but to actually embrace it. Suffering won’t last for eternity, but right now, we don’t run from it.

Suffering is part of the curse of sin, according to the Bible. The cost of dealing with it is exorbitant. Jesus, the ‘light of the world’, set us a powerful example of accepting suffering. We are called to follow his example.

What’s more, because of our hope in Jesus, we can even rejoice when we run into problems and trials. 

Hope is the key

How is it possible to rejoice in suffering? As today’s verses state, it is all because of the hope that we have – a confident hope of God’s glory in which we have a part through Jesus.

According to these verses, suffering actually serves to strengthen that hope. As Paul puts it: “And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because …” (it strengthens our hope) (Romans 5:2b-3a NIV ).

As an aside, let me mention that in the translation of the text given to me for this devotion, we are told to ‘rejoice’ when we encounter difficulties. That is in the New Living Translation. In the New International Version, quoted in the paragraph above, we are told to ‘glory’ in our sufferings.

The word used in the original language – καυχώμεθα (kauchōmetha) – contains aspects of both, as well as an element of boasting. Personally, as I face trouble, I prefer to think about how I can ‘glory’ in it rather than to ‘rejoice’ in it. Nevertheless, I will stick to the translation that I was given. It’s not incorrect. It just illustrates the limits of translation.

However you translate it, we don’t rejoice or glory or boast in the specifics of the stressors in our lives. We rejoice and glory and boast in the hope that we have.

Paul put it like this:

Problems and trials –> endurance –> strength of character –> our confident hope of salvation is strengthened.

Based on Romans 2:3-4

A theme verse

Let me share with you a personal application of this passage from 2015. I did something very brave and perhaps somewhat stupid at the start of that year.

I asked people to pray this passage specifically for me during what I was expecting would be a rough few months. I was particularly taken by wording of Eugene Peterson from ‘The Message’ where he says that suffering helps us ‘develop passionate patience’.

“Please pray that God will ‘develop passionate patience’ in me,” I wrote to praying people. It was a shocker of a year. In 2015, I played a part in dealing with major conflict. Then there was a cancer diagnosis, surgery and further treatment. I had an international move, which also entailed losing or changing roles and moving far from good friends. Friends here moved too. I appreciated those prayers for ‘passionate patience’ but by the end of the year, I was saying, “ENOUGH!”

Did I rejoice in the difficulties? Um … not exactly … but I was way more calm than I would have been without what Paul calls here ‘the confident hope of salvation’. 

Let me share two more examples … Biblical examples this time … of how godly people dealt with problems and trials. The first is Paul, who wrote this passage, and the second is Abraham, whom Paul wrote about in the chapter immediately preceding these verses. 

Paul

“We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials…,” wrote Paul. He had real credibility when he wrote these words because he knew what it meant to suffer.

You are familiar, I am sure, with Paul’s boasts about his weaknesses in 2 Corinthians 11 and 12. He boasted about working so hard that he was frequently absolutely exhausted. Then there was the hunger and thirst he endured, let alone imprisonment, flogging, stoning, three shipwrecks, and being in danger from people he perceived as threats as well as those he had thought were friends. And then, of course, he had that ‘thorn in the flesh’, a messenger of Satan sent by God to keep him humble … whatever that was.

Mind you, his suffering had a point … it was part of his co-operation with God in his kingdom work. It seems easier to rejoice in suffering when the suffering has purpose. 

Abraham

What about when there seems to be no purpose to our suffering? What about when our suffering is actually more about inactivity – waiting, waiting, waiting and waiting some more? Abraham knew what that was like. He waited, sometimes impatiently, but he waited for that promised son. Paul described it like this:

Against all hope, Abraham in hope believed and so became the father of many nations…. Without weakening in his faith, he faced the fact that his body was as good as dead – since he was about a hundred years old – and that Sarah’s womb was also dead. Yet he did not waver through unbelief regarding the promise of God, but was strengthened in his faith and gave glory to God, being fully persuaded that God had power to do what he had promised.

Romans 4:18a, 19-21 NIV

This story of Abraham’s hope and patience in the waiting is not just a piece of history. It has direct relevance for us. Paul went on to explain how.

This is why it was credited to him as righteousness. The words “it was credited to him” were written not for him alone, but also for us, to whom God will credit righteousness – for us who believe in him who raised Jesus our Lord from the dead.”

Romans 4:22-24 NIV

That passage leads directly into the ‘therefore’ which begins Romans 5, and comes immediately prior to the verses that we have been asked to meditate on today. “Therefore … we have been justified … we have peace with God … we have access into the grace of God … and we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings….”.

It’s all about hope.

Sarah

Imagine Abraham … waiting and wondering … wondering and waiting. As a woman, however, I identify more closely with Sarah.

Imagine Sarah’s crushing disappointment month after month until her monthly cycles dried up and, it would seem, her hopes of motherhood too. Imagine the shame and stigma she endured in those times of barrenness.

Through it all, we read that Abraham “did not waver through unbelief regarding the promise of God, but was strengthened in his faith and gave glory to God, being fully persuaded that God had power to do what he had promised.” (Romans 4:21). I wonder how Sarah managed, though.

Abraham is held up as the model of hope. Sarah, perhaps, was a little more pragmatic. She sent her servant, Hagar, to do what she thought needed to be done to try and move things along. She was also keen to hold in her arms the one whose birth would fulfil her husband’s hopes. Abraham, who clearly wasn’t perfect, went along with Sarah’s plan.

Let’s stick with Abraham’s example of waiting as something to be imitated. In fact, let’s interpret Sarah’s efforts of trying to do God’s work for him as an example of what not to do while we put up with the suffering of waiting. 

Hope in God’s glory

The hope of Abraham and of Paul is the same hope that enables us to rejoice in our sufferings. It is not the hope of finally being rid of our sufferings. It is not even the hope that we will find purpose in our sufferings. It is the hope that God will do what he has promised.

That promise does not centre on us, but it centres on God’s glory. Paul puts it like this:

And we boast in the hope of the glory of God.

Romans 5:2b NIV

God’s kingdom is coming and is, in a sense, already here. His glory is our great and certain hope. We have the privilege of participation in God’s work. We are given some special pictures of God’s glory in the book of Revelation, including this one, illustrating a Biblical sense of ‘enlightenment’:

I did not see a temple in the city, because the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are its temple. The city does not need the sun or the moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and the Lamb is its lamp. The nations will walk by its light, and the kings of the earth will bring their splendour into it.

Revelation 21:22-24 NIV

Mutual encouragement

The hope of the glory of God is sure and a reason to rejoice with all our energy in music and dance as well as other ways. But in a mysterious way, Paul explains, we can also rejoice in our sufferings. Pushing through problems and trials serves to strengthen our hope. Let’s encourage one another, even in our sufferings, and especially in our sufferings, to persevere.

It still feels too much of a strain to say to hurting people, ’Rejoice’ … but rejoice we can. We most likely will not enjoy the experiences, but our joy – our rejoicing – comes because of our hope. Our hope is in the glory of God.

Think of Paul … think of Abraham … think of God’s people around you who persevere in suffering. Be encouraged by the hope that drives the perseverance and joy of the people of God.

May God be glorified as we endure with hope.

A prayer

Lord Jesus, we come to you, the one who endured incredible suffering so that we could be reconciled to our Creator and Sustainer. Please will you strengthen each of us in our difficulties and grow us through your indwelling Spirit. Please will you help us not only to endure but even to rejoice when we run into problems and trials. We know in our minds that persevering in trouble develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. It’s harder to experience that in our hearts though. Please strengthen us in our difficulties. We commit ourselves to you afresh as people of hope. In Jesus’ name we pray, and for your glory. Amen. 

There is no space in or around the sink. A stainless steel bowl, to the right of the sink, is full of stuff which is soaking. Not everything fits in the bowl. To the left of the sink, on the drainer, are more things, washed yesterday but not yet put away. I take a deep breath and start. One thing at a time.

Until I notice the outdoor sun-blocking blind just outside the kitchen window. Today is the first time this summer that I have used it and the back of the blind is covered in cobwebs. I consider going out to brush them off, but it is too hot out there.

Which reminds me that the cat is outside. Is she too hot? I brave the heat and find her sprawled in the shade. She meows at me contentedly. But then I notice the tomato plants nearby. I had planned to buy some bird netting today to protect the new fruit … but it is too hot to venture to the shops just now. I look at the dry soil. Should I water them in the heat of the day? Probably not. Should I pour my used coffee grounds (currently in an unwashed coffee pot) with water on them tonight though? I go back in and look up ‘coffee grounds’ and ‘tomato plants’ on the internet.

Back to the kitchen and to the remainder of the dishes….. Not only is the outside blind covered in cobwebs but the inside window sill is pretty dirty too. I take down the pot plants and miniature birds, one at a time. I wipe them over and, in the case of the indoor plants, water them. At which point, I realise that it has been a long time since I fertilised the African violet. Now where is that fertiliser?

Trying to impose order in my little home, let alone life, feels never-ending. Chinese has a great phrase for it – 没完没了 – without finish and without completion.

Order in life

Order is finally somewhat restored inside my kitchen, at least. I put the kettle on and sit down to ask the Lord what he would have me write about today. Putting in time on a regular blog is another part of the order I want in my life.

Whether it is God nudging me or just where I’m at right now, I decide to write about ‘order’. So – here we are – sitting inside with a journal and a now cool cat whom I forced inside against her will. It was 36 degrees out there and she is an old fat cat. I think it is too hot for her out there, even if she disagrees.

I love my little home. But just sometimes, I think I would like to join a modern Protestant nunnery … something like the Anglican order behind the popular books and television show, ‘Call the Midwife.’ I am attracted by the orderly lifestyle of such an institution. Their emphasis on order is why they call such religious orders ‘orders’.

I don’t believe that God has called me to a religious order, however. I’m quietly confident that right here, right now, is where I should be. That is another story. Suffice to say that it is up to me to impose order on my life rather than submit myself to someone else’s idea of order.

Hence this blog post.

God’s order and creativity

God reveals himself (in part) through all he has made and sustains. In creation, I find ample evidence of his orderliness and creativity.

Day and night – summer and winter – oxygen in and carbon dioxide out for people and animals, but the reverse for plants – birth, maturation and even ageing and death in its time – all around us, we see order. When order is disrupted, we sense dis-ease (lack of ease) … dis-ease in our world (floods, fires, avalanches, wars etc) and, of course, dis-ease in our bodies (viruses, aches and pains, premature death etc).

Within the orderliness of creation, we also see evidence of God’s creativity. Colours – bird calls – animal designs – natural beauty – his hand is evident in it all. As God’s image bearers, we are also creative. We make beautiful things within various structures – music – art – gardens – architecture – cuisine – fashion – literature and more.

Yet sometimes order breaks down and we end up with danger, ugliness and mess. Just think, for example, about houses that have not been built safely, food that has not been hygienically handled, bodies that have been abused by unhealthy lifestyles, ‘music’ that is performed by people uninterested in scales or arpeggios, or even a kitchen sink overflowing with dirty dishes.

And at times, of course, for no reason other than that we live in a broken world, we suffer disease, both physical and dis-ease as in a lack of peace……

A challenge

I said earlier that there are aspects of life in a religious order that appeal to me. But a religious order is not where I sense God would have me right now.

Here in my own little unit in the outer eastern suburbs of Melbourne, I have the unique privilege of (mostly) managing my own time. I am generously supported by kind people who believe in the value of what I am and do. Yet in order to do and be all that I sense God has called me to do and be, I need order in my daily life. As do we all.

Simply ‘being’ – being a woman of God in a world which needs him – is a role I relish. I am talking here of ‘being’ our Lord’s representative as I interact with people from various backgrounds, some of whom barely even know that there is a Creator God. These days, such interactions mostly come through language lessons, whether as a teacher or a student. The Bible talks about us being light, being salt and being the fragrance of life (or the stench of death) … but even just ‘being’ takes intentionality. It takes time and energy, planning and turning up to simply ‘be’ as I spend time with other people. To maximise ‘being’ with others, I need order in my life.

Having time to learn and to think about things that matter, things that can impact what we do as well as how and why we do them, is also something I appreciate. I am thinking here about a couple of different roles I enjoy in academia and various networks. But those flashes of insights only come as a result of hours of reading, writing, listening, discussing, praying and good-old-fashioned thinking. Again, order is necessary.

One of my hobbies, of course, is writing, and that includes this blog post. This format has a particular order to it. It calls for small sections with various headings to break up the text into bite-sized chunks. I’d love to learn to write poetry, but the ideal order of rhythm and rhyme is beyond me. Without order in my week, the blog posts wouldn’t get written. Yet one person who is particularly impacted by me sitting down regularly, putting pen to paper then fingers to the keyboard, is myself. If anyone else benefits, that is a bonus. And so I continue to write. And I continue to order my days so that I have time to write.

Herein lies the challenge. How do I create enough order in my life to facilitate these interesting and meaningful activities and identities? Let alone keep on top of domesticity?

A caveat

By the way, I hope you don’t think that I am writing about the importance of order because I struggle to be productive in life. That’s not the case. I will admit, however, to struggling to balance a variety of interesting responsibilities with boring but necessary household and administrative tasks.

Also, just in case you wondered, I am held somewhat accountable for how I use my work hours. I’m not a totally free agent. I won’t bore you with the details, but there are a few lines of accountability in place.

Imitating the God of order in community

As image bearers of God, the Creator and Sustainer of all that is, we are called to impose order on our environments. We bring order to our homes, workplaces and communities even as we express our creativity. In fact, it is hard, if not impossible to be creative without some sense of order.

But sometimes I get overwhelmed. It is important for me to remember that I am not actually the Unlimited Great God of Order. My abilities and perspective are limited. I am just one part of the community that is God’s people. God is big. I am small.

I would love to have a gorgeous garden, pristine cupboards, incredible output in terms of writing, hours regularly spent with individuals in various roles, healthy gastronomic delights emerging from my kitchen every day and generally contribute well to the various communities to which I belong. But I can’t do it all.

What I can do is to recognise the tension between my desires … many of which are God-given … and my limited resources. I love my flexible lifestyle but recognise that the freedom to do a lot doesn’t equate to the capacity to do everything.

I also recognise that I am part of a community of God’s people and have a role to play there. A role. Perhaps even several roles. But definitely not every role.

The point is ….

Here comes the point of this week’s blog post. It seems so obvious that I hesitate to share it. It’s nothing new, but putting it into words will help me. So … drum roll please……

As the Creator’s image bearer, I have a responsibility to impose order on my environment. That is a necessary part of creativity.

That includes accepting the limitations of my humanity. I have been given flexibility and ability to do some things well … but not everything.

This doesn’t mean that everything in my life is ordered to the nth degree, including banishing webs from the kitchen blind. It also doesn’t meant that I need a routine similar to that imposed by a Mother-Superior-equivalent.

I need to maintain basic order in life in order to be productive. And I need to recognise that committing time and energy to maintaining order is as much a part of my God-ordained work as are the more interesting and enjoyable parts of it.

Disorder versus peace

I would like to finish with a nice ‘proof text’ from the Bible. However, it would be remiss of me not to mention that the context of this verse is not actually about imposing order on our physical environments. It is about maintaining order in corporate worship. The principle is similar, though. It is only when there is order that we can we fully live out our God-given roles as part of a community of God’s people. In this community, each of us have different roles. None of us are called to do or be everything.

And so, as I go into a new week, full of all sorts of interesting activities as well as a few boring ones, I remind myself of this truth:

… God is not a God of disorder but of peace….

1 Corinthians 14:33 NIV

Where there is order, there is peace. Disorder leaders to dis-ease.

Order is important. Now to put these fancy words into action….

How do you feel as we look ahead to all that 2021 may (or may not) hold?

Although I am usually an optimist, there is one thing that fills my heart with dread this year.

It’s the dentist.

Many people are focused on the virus and its repercussions, on political tensions around the globe, on trade wars, on the refugee crisis, on health worries … BIG things. I don’t deny that these are concerning matters. My thoughts, however, are elsewhere.

Just before Christmas, I visited my dentist because of ongoing issues with a tooth … or the gum … or something. The verdict was that a root canal from seven years back has failed. The dentist has referred me to an endodontist.

What IS an endodontist? Are endodontists so specialised that they spell ‘dentist’ with an ‘o’? ‘Endo’ means ‘within’, I understand. I have since learnt that endodontists deal with ‘dental pulp’. That sounds gross. Worm-like. And expensive.

“Can’t you just pull the tooth out?” I pleaded with the no-frills-dentist. I hate dental work generally, but even more frightening are the bills.

“We would rather exhaust all other possibilities first,” the dentist explained as I lay there with dental sunglasses under a bright light, my mouth finally and blessedly relieved of all the dental paraphernalia. “Let the endodontist have a look under a microscope. If he can’t do anything, he’ll send you back here to have the tooth pulled. But if he can do a root canal repair, that would be best. Even if it only gives you another two years of life with your own tooth, that would be worth it.”

That would be worth it?

PANIC

A promise

Sufferers of dental disease in the Middle East in the seventh century BC either coped with it or had their teeth pulled without modern anaesthetics.

The people of Isaiah’s day had bigger problems than dodgy teeth, though. Many of them found themselves in exile in Babylon, far from their promised land. They considered themselves abandoned, forgotten by their God. (See, for example, Isaiah 40:27.)

And yet, despite their distress, look at what God told his people through the prophet Isaiah.

So do not fear, for I am with you;
do not be dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you;
I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Isaiah 41:10 NIV

Don’t fear … but why not? (Part 1)

When we think about WHO made this promise, fear fizzles away, despite the dire circumstances.

This God is the Judge of all the earth (Isaiah 41:1). The judge of all the earth was THEIR God. The authorities in Babylon were not the ultimate judges.

What’s more, in his sovereignty, God uses earthly rulers to do his bidding. Isaiah 41:2 contains a promise referring to the Persian king, Cyrus, whose army would one day conquer their oppressor, Babylon. God is sovereign, even using those do not recognise him to fulfil his purposes. “So – do not fear,” he said, “for I am with you.”

God also claims in this chapter to be the First and Last, the Uncreated One (Isaiah 41:4). No wonder he was sovereign and had the right to judge.

Those exiled Israelites with downcast eyes could raise their heads and stand tall when they remembered whose they were. God has a bird’s eye view of history, the future and those Jews’ place in the great span of time and space. This very same God instructed them, “… do not be dismayed for I am your God.”

Exile was not going to finish anytime soon. No, those original recipients of the promise would actually die in exile. Their descendants would return to their own land one day, but not them. Yet even in this distressing state, they did not need to fear. In fact, they were commanded not to fear nor be dismayed.

Don’t fear … but why not? (Part 2)

Keeping in mind the nature of God, Isaiah then continued with more reasons about why these exiles should not fear. In just one verse – Isaiah 41:10 – God gave not one, not two, not three, not four but five reasons for confidence.

1. “I am with you,” said the LORD.
2. “I am your God,” he reminded them. They may have slipped away from devotion to God, but he had not forgotten them.
3. “I will strengthen you,” he said, reminding me of another promise spoken just a chapter earlier to the same people: “… But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength…” (Isaiah 40:31a).
4. “I will help you,” God added.
5. “I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” Their oppressors could force them into exile, but God’s righteous right hand was undergirding them, nonetheless.

God’s people in 2021

We live in a messy world, and it seems to be getting messier by the day just now.

God hasn’t changed over the centuries, however. Although we are not in the sandals of the original recipients of that precious promise of Isaiah 41:10, we are God’s people if we follow Jesus. God has redeemed us through his own Son. He has indwelt us with his Spirit. The New Testament is packed with explanations of how it is that non-Jews like me have been incorporated into the ‘people of God’.

Consider this. The First and the Last, the Uncreated One, the Judge of all the earth remains sovereign. The craziness of our current era has not caught him by surprise. He even uses power-hungry rulers to fulfil his own purposes. (I’m honestly not pointing at any particular high profile leader here – there are actually quite a few I have in mind.) THIS God is our God. And he is with us.

God does not promise to rescue us from our troubles right here and right now, though ultimately he will. The hope of being plucked out of our difficulties is not a reason to not be afraid. (Sorry about the double negative there.)

God is with us. This is why we need not fear. In fact, we are commanded not to fear. The apostle to the Gentiles (to people like me) put it like this:

The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:5b-7 NIV

Eagles

This whole section of Isaiah is filled with precious promises. There are two that caught my eye.

The first is that promise of strength which I mentioned earlier. Actually, it was ‘my verse’ for 2020. I have blogged about that before.

… But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength, They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.

Isaiah 40:31 NIV

I like to think of eagles soaring high and unimpeded by the troubles beneath them. However, as I look at this promise in context, I see that Isaiah was not talking about leaving trouble behind and so gaining strength. In fact, the context is more like life in a pressure cooker.

In the thick of trouble, we who hope in the LORD will renew our strength. We will rise up on wings like eagles … even if we feel more like galahs.

Jesus said something along the same lines as Isaiah to his followers:

I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.

John 16:33 NIV

That applies to us too.

Worms

The second promise that amuses and encourages me both is this:

Do not be afraid, O worm Jacob, O little Israel,
for I myself will help you,” declares the LORD,
your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel.

Isaiah 41:14 NIV

This promise encourages me because, though I may feel small … and am small … God is with me and He himself helps me.

This promise amuses me because worms don’t have teeth! I have been quietly panicking about upcoming dental work and the bills for the last two weeks. Then God points me to a verse about worms … toothless pulpy creatures. And just look at what God said to his people next:

See, I will make you into a threshing sledge,
new and sharp, with many teeth.

Isaiah 41:15a

As I embark on 2021, I look ahead with hesitation to God only knows how many hours with a dentist / endodontist and at what cost. God does not promise to pluck us out of difficulties right here and now, but he does promise to be with us in them.

When I remember that he is with me, I need not be afraid. I just need to put my hope in the LORD.

Mind you, it’s easier said than done. Yet the fact remains: He IS with us. So … do not fear, caffeinated worm.

A woman wailed. Family members, their own faces wet with tears, tried to embrace her. She shoved them away, literally and figuratively.

The scene was repeated over and over. This was a horror day which would go down in history as a bleak aside to the Christmas story.

A megalomaniacal ruler had ordered the murder of all boys under the age of two in the area. His reason was that an ancient prophecy pointed to a king’s birth in that area at that time. A baby had been born … a baby who would not be allowed to grow up … or so King Herod intended.

Which is why ALL baby boys there had to die.

The facts

Christmas cards picture three wise men with gifts, paying homage to the newborn king. They never feature distraught mothers whose baby sons have been wrenched from their arms and slaughtered. But that, too, is an integral part of ‘The Christmas Story’.

Matthew didn’t go into details in his record, but simply stated the facts.

When Herod realised that he had been outwitted by the Magi, he was furious, and he gave orders to kill all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity who were two years old and under, in accordance with the time he had learned from the Magi.

Matthew 2:16

The Feast of the Holy Innocents

Today (as I write), churches around the world commemorate ‘The Feast of the Holy Innocents’. It seems strange to call it a ‘feast’, for as long as anybody knows, this ‘feast day’ was actually a day of fasting and mourning. And for good reason.

On this day, we remember that awful day some 2020 years ago when innocent children died a violent and undeserved death.

Yes, this atrocity served to fulfil an ancient prophecy from Jeremiah (according to Matthew). But it seemed so senseless. So wrong.

Then what was said through the prophet Jeremiah was fulfilled:
“A voice is heard in Ramah,
weeping and great mourning.
Rachel weeping for her children
and refusing to be comforted,
because they are no more.”

Matthew 2:17-18 NIV

Ramah – a place of pain for mothers

Rachel, of course, was the mother of three of Israel’s tribes – Ephraim and Manasseh (of Joseph’s line) and Benjamin. She died giving birth to Benjamin on the road to Bethlehem (Genesis 35:19-20). Her husband, Jacob, erected a monument there. Traditionally, Rachel’s tomb is recognised as being just outside Bethlehem, though scholars put it a little further north.

Rachel was childless for many years, a source of tremendous pain in itself in that culture, and a grief which she shared with several other notable figures in Israel’s history. Her grandmother-in-law, Sarah, knew what childlessness was like. Hannah, mother of the great prophet Samuel, would later suffer a similar grief for many years right there in Ramah.

Rachel would eventually be given a child … a child of promise … who would find himself whisked away to Egypt when he wasn’t much more than a kid. Joseph’s power-hungry brothers were at fault but God was sovereign and was preparing to save the clan through Joseph’s future position in Egypt. Rachel would then bear one more child, only to lose her own life in the process.

Rachel wept in Ramah. She wept for all that could have been but was not. She wept for shattered hopes and dreams. She wept for her children who were taken from her. And then she died.

But that was not the end.

Ramah – a base for the Babylonian exile

Jeremiah, whose prophecy was fulfilled that horrendous day in Jesus’ time, spent time in Ramah. When the Babylonians came and forcefully exiled the Jews, their base was Ramah. It was actually in the context of imminent exile that Jeremiah pronounced this prophecy:

This is what the LORD says:
“A voice is heard in Ramah,
mourning and great weeping.
Rachel weeping for her children
and refusing to be comforted,
because her children are no more.”

Jeremiah 31:15 NIV

There was a note of hope, however, even in the midst of pain. Read what else the LORD had in store. The prophecy continued:

This is what the LORD says:
“Restrain your voice from weeping
and your eyes from tears,
for your work will be rewarded,”
declares the LORD.
“They will return from the land of the enemy.
So there is hope for your future,”
declares the LORD.
“Your children will return to their own land.”

Jeremiah 31:16-17 NIV

Jeremiah himself actually avoided exile, though he had been chained and prepared for an imminent departure. His liberation took place at Ramah, which is why I surmise that the exile began there.

The word came to Jeremiah from the LORD after Nebuzaradan commander of the imperial guard had released him at Ramah. He had found Jeremiah bound in chains among all the captives from Jerusalem and Judah who were being carried into exile to Babylon.

Jeremiah 40:1NIV

It is significant, surely, that Jesus was sent into exile from Ramah to Egypt. This came about through the angel of the Lord giving instructions in a dream to Joseph, and thus fulfilling another prophecy (Matthew 2:13-15).

The symbolism is thick. Even as the baby was carried to safety, the lives of his young male peers were destroyed in a manner reminiscent of Moses’ story. But that was not the end.

Physical events reflect spiritual realities

John’s revelation from Jesus to the early church was given to encourage those early believers to stand firm, despite the dreadful days in which they lived. In chapter 12 of the book of Revelation, we can read a story remarkably similar to the horrendous tale of the slaughter of the innocents.

In Revelation 12, the ultimate megalomaniac – Satan – was desperate to destroy the woman and the child, the one through whom the salvation of all creation would come. The woman and the child were protected by divine intervention. When he realised that the babe had been whisked away from his clutches, Satan went ballistic. The apostle John helpfully, at this point, put in a note of explanation.

Then the dragon was enraged at the woman and went off to make war against the rest of her offspring – those who obey God’s commandments and hold to the testimony of Jesus.

Revelation 12:17

Revelation 12 is rich in symbolism. One thing is clear from this section, at least, and that is that the enemy’s power is real but temporary. Suffering for Jesus’ sake is normal but it is not eternal.

Satan’s fury is not the end of the story.

Pulling it all together

On this day on which the church commemorates ‘The Feast of the Holy Innocents’, we remember a dreadful atrocity.

Many of us Gentiles miss the rich symbolism of this horrendous tale. Let me try to summarise the riches I have glimpsed today as I have spent time in this passage.

First, pain is inevitable. We are part of a bigger story in which a megalomaniac strikes out in fury at Almighty God’s incarnation. That doesn’t excuse the various perpetrators of evil, of course. But it is not the end.

Second, we are encouraged to persevere. God, in his sovereignty, is working in the brokenness and despair of fallen creation. May we cling ever more tightly to the Saviour who was born that first Christmas when we suffer the fury of Satan, the ruler of our world, the one who has already been defeated.

I detest this part of the Christmas story with every maternal fibre of my being. Sin is like that. It’s horrendous. But against that dark backdrop, there is hope.

May we persevere, then, in obedience to the one who was born in a manger and snatched away to safety in Egypt.

For that was not the end of the story.

Here in Melbourne, Australia, the local Jewish community hosted an eight day public event in Federation Square called ‘Chanukah – Pillars of Light’. It finished yesterday (as I write). Each evening, different public figures would put in an appearance. They would sign a lit-up pillar, adding a note of positivity. Performers would delight the (covid-safe) crowds. Jewish games, discussions and more took place. The most significant part of each evening was the lighting of a candle on the menorah (a particular style of candle stick holder – see the screenshot below of the advertising for the event).

What is Hanukkah (Chanukah) about? Why is a non-Jewish Christian woman wishing you ‘Happy Hanukkah’ here? Is it Biblical?

Join me on a trip in our imagination (pretty much the only way to travel during these strange days). Let’s go back in time and across the world. I hope that you, like me, will find it fascinating and hope-engendering.

Time: Second century BC
Place: Israel

Exhilaration and devastation mingled in the community. Against all odds, Jewish guerrilla fighters had expelled the oppressors from their Temple. But at what cost? And what a mess confronted the people as they reclaimed their holy place of worship.

Brave people surveyed the damage. The altar to the Most High God had been defiled. Pigs had been sacrificed on it. It had become an altar to a Greek god, Zeus.

Where was Jehovah God?

Slowly the people began to clean. The menorah (the oil-lamp branched lampstand) was recovered. It was, perhaps, a more recent copy of the one Moses had made as instructed by God himself. (See Exodus 25:31-40.)

They found one small bottle of pure olive oil; oil uncontaminated by the atrocities which had been committed there. It would keep the lamps burning for a day, perhaps. It would take them longer to source what they needed. So much for reinstating what their Scriptures required.

Command the Israelites to bring you clear oil of pressed olives for the light so that the lamps may be kept burning. …. This is to be a lasting ordinance among the Israelites for the generations to come.

God’s instructions to Moses as recorded in Exodus 27:20, 21b NIV

And yet, miraculously, the lamps burned for eight days. EIGHT days. Surely God was with them.

By the eighth day, more oil had been obtained. The Temple was cleansed. It was dedicated afresh to the Lord, the God who was with them, whose light shone in the midst of their community, never going out.

Every year since that time, whenever possible, people celebrated this miracle. The festival culminated with the Day of Dedication, on the eighth day. God was with them. How good was that?!

Time: First century AD
Place: Israel

It was the Feast of Dedication again … perhaps the 194th such feast since the custom had begun, give or take a few years. The Jewish name for this feast literally comes from Hebrew word meaning ‘to dedicate’ and is pronounced something like ‘Hanukkah’.

It was winter in more senses than one. Life was hard. Oppression was severe. But the oil-filled lamps burned, symbolising God’s presence.

A man arrived on the scene. A crowd of Jews gathered around that man, demanding the truth.

Then came the Feast of Dedication at Jerusalem. It was winter, and Jesus was in the temple area walking in Solomon’s Colonnade. The Jews gathered around him, saying, “How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Christ, tell us plainly.”

John 10:22-24 NIV

In the weeks preceding this event, Jesus had had a lot to say about ‘light’. He had claimed to be ‘the light of the world’ (John 8:12). He had healed a blind man, insinuating that the religious leaders were, in fact, the blind ones (John 9:40-41). That didn’t go down well.

Now he stood there at the climax of the Feast of Dedication (Hannukah). For the first time, as requested by the mob, he made his position crystal clear.

I and the Father are one.

… the Father is in me and I in the Father.

John 10:30, 38b NIV

Surrounded by lamps and celebratory lights, the people picked up stones, intending to snuff out the Light of the World. They tried to seize him, but he slipped away.

He would not return to the city until Passover.

Time: Twenty-first century
Places: Varied

Bright lights decorate trees, shop windows, street, buildings and more. Light is an important part of Christmas celebrations the world over. They’re cheerful, lifting our spirits, and appreciated more than ever after a year like 2020.

The lights remind us of the birth of Jesus, the Light of the World, prophesied from ancient times. I wrote at length about light and Christmas in a recent blog post.

Yet there is so much more. Consider the Jewish celebration of Hanukkah and Jesus’ bold proclamation at that very festival of his divine nature. As followers of Jesus Christ (Christians), this Jewish festival is even richer in meaning than I, at least, had realised.

Think back to the broken, contaminated, filthy Temple of the second century BC. The people found a little bottle of oil. They lit the wicks on the oil lamp. Light broke into the dark and gloom, symbolising God’s presence. Miraculously, the oil lamps burnt for eight days, until a generous supply could be sourced. God was present, despite the mess.

Think back to the first Christmas. Mary gave birth to a little scrap of humanity, a helpless baby boy. Eight days later, she submitted him to a minor medical procedure, marking him clearly as one of God’s own.

On the eighth day, when it was time to circumcise him, he was named Jesus, the name the angel had given him before he had been conceived.

Luke 2:21 NIV

Jesus – the name means ‘Saviour’. (See Matthew 1:21 and Luke 2:11.) God was present in a very real and tangible way, despite the mess into which he was born.

Hanukkah – the feast of dedication. Jesus, God incarnate, was dedicated afresh on the eighth day after his birth. Years later, at the festival of dedication – Hannukah, he would publicly claim to be God incarnate.

String up those lights! God is with us! Celebrate!

Time: Now and then and in the time to come
Place: Wherever God’s church exists

Life was tough for those early followers of Christ. It can be tough for us today too. Throughout the centuries, it has not been easy.

Jesus gave an early church leader a very special vision. He wanted to encourage his people to persevere. Here are a couple of images, as valid for us now as they were for the seven churches spoken about in the vision.

… I saw seven golden lampstands, and among the lampstands was someone “like a son of man”…. His face was like the sun shining in all its brilliance….

… he said, “Do not be afraid. I am the First and the Last. I am the Living One; I was dead, and behold I am alive for ever and ever! And I hold the keys of death and Hades….

“… the seven lampstands are the seven churches.”

Revelation 1:12b-13a, 16b-18, 20b

The oil-filled lamps are us! I find myself singing the old chorus, ‘Give me oil in my lamp, keep me burning; give me oil in my lamp, I pray; give me oil in my lamp, keep me burning, burning, burning; keep me burning till the break of day’. (Though perhaps the ‘me’ and ‘my’ in the song would be better sung as ‘us’ and ‘our’.)

Jesus remains amongst us now. He walks among his lampstands. His very Spirit indwells us, just as the olive oil once filled and fueled the Temple lampstands.

But wait … there is more.

After chapters and chapters of highly symbolic, terrifying scenes of conflict in both the physical and spiritual realms in the book of Revelation, we find victory.

I did not see a temple in the city, because the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are its temple. The city does not need the sun or the moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and the Lamb is its lamp.

Revelation 21:22-23 NIV (my emphasis)

Remember the Jewish Temple lamps that were never to have gone out? For a time they did, but not forever. It may have felt like God was absent, but he had not forgotten them.

It began small, but with God’s divine intervention, light broke into the darkness. What is the ‘it’ which began small but ended up brilliantly radiant?

‘It’ is the light from the lamps in the Jewish temple in Jerusalem after it was reclaimed from oppressors in the second century before Christ. And ‘it’ is the Light of the World who was born as a helpless little baby that first Christmas morning and who went on redeem creation. And ‘it’ is God’s people, the church, and his kingdom who struggle still but whose future is secure.

Happy Hanukkah!

On Wednesday afternoons, several women in my neighbourhood sit in front of our computers doing an online simple English Bible study. We are allowed meet face-to-face now, but zoom has suited us well. We began during lockdown.

The other ladies in the group are mothers of international students at a local high school. They are happy to study the Bible if they can get English language lessons at the same time. I’m happy to teach English language lessons if I can introduce truths from the Bible at the same time. We all give and take a bit, but I think I speak for us all when I say that we are all getting so much more from the lessons than we had anticipated.

Last week’s lessons was, not surprisingly, from Luke 2. It was the story of Jesus’ birth. For me it is ‘old hat’, but for these ladies, it was fresh.

One of their questions stumped me. Let me explain.

An English lesson

I usually introduce vocabulary that they mightn’t know and any background to the passage which they need in order to understand it. Then we go through it section by section, reading and discussing it.

Luke 2:1-21 actually required quite a lot of pre-teaching. First there was the historical and geographical setting of the passage.

The ladies hadn’t learnt about the Roman Empire back when they were in school. They knew about the Mongolian Kingdom from the 13th century though. It spanned from Eastern Europe all the way across Asia and down into parts of the Middle East. In a similar way, I explained, the Roman Empire covered many parts of the world in the 1st century, including Europe and North Africa, parts of the Middle East and West Asia. I had maps ready to share through zoom and we located the various places mentioned in the Luke 2, including Syria and Israel, as well as Rome, Nazareth and Bethlehem.

Second, I taught a couple of unusual vocabulary items which they needed if they were to understand the passage. We use the New International Reader’s Version (NIRV) of the Bible because the language tends to be less specialised than some other versions. Nevertheless, the NIRV translators have left the relatively uncommon word ‘manger’ in this tale. (The other tricky word was ‘circumcised’.)

“Don’t worry about memorising the word ‘manger’,” I told them. “It’s enough to just recognise it. It’s not common in modern English except for when we tell the Christmas story. It’s old English, coming from a French word meaning ‘to eat’ – ‘manger’. In other settings, we would call that thing a ‘feeding trough’.”

We then worked through the wondrous story, one paragraph at a time. The climax of the lesson was a carol, ‘While shepherds watched their flocks by night.’

The question

“Why did Mary put the newborn baby in a manger?” A thoughtful woman in the group who is not over-familiar with the Christmas story asked this question.

It just so happened that I have recently re-read a chapter on the culture and history of that area, how mangers featured in homes and how that related to the Christmas story. If you’re interested in reading more about this, check out the book ‘Jesus Through Middle Eastern Eyes’ by Kenneth Bailey, published by Intervarsity Press.

So, in response to this quite reasonable question, I explained that a manger was just the right size for a baby. It was like a cot. The straw would almost certainly have been clean and comfortable. The new mother and those with her were making the best of what was at hand.

The lady looked puzzled. She continued, “But Mary must have been lying somewhere. Why would she need a special bed for the baby? Even if she was lying on the floor, wouldn’t it have been better for the baby to lie on her or next to her?”

She has a point. A manger is an odd choice for a baby’s bed. And what about mother-child bonding?

The significance of the manger

The more I thought about it, the more convinced I was that this lady was onto something. The manger is a significant element of the Christmas story. Kenneth Bailey, in the book recommended above, thinks so too.

Three times, the author Luke emphasised the manger in the section we studied a few days ago. In Luke 2:7, we read that Mary laid him in a manger because there was no guest room available for them. In Luke 2:12 an angel, in blazing light, gave terrified shepherds a sign to attest to the incredible incarnation. The sign was this: the newborn Saviour, Messiah and Lord would be found wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger. In Luke 2:16, the shepherds did indeed find the baby lying in a manger. After witnessing this miracle, they praised God and spread the word about what they had been told and what they had indeed seen … the Lord Jesus lying in a manger (Luke 2:17,19).

Humility

I tried again to answer this insightful lady’s question about the significance of baby Jesus lying in a manger in a satisfactory manner.

“The manger shows us how humble Jesus was. He went from powerfully sitting on a throne to helplessing lying in a feeding trough for animals. After all, Mary couldn’t hold him all the time, right? It would have been safer for the baby to be off the floor when Mary was up and about, don’t you think?”

This response isn’t as random as it might seem. Just a few weeks ago, we studied a passage from Philippians 2 in which Jesus is portrayed as having come from a position of equality with God to taking on the form of a servant. In fact, Jesus took on the form of not just a servant, but also a homeless waif whose parents had been forced from the security of ‘home’ by an edict of an oppressive government. In fact, the situation would get worse before it would get better. The horror of Herod’s jealousy was not covered in Luke’s tale.

The more I ponder the image of the baby Jesus lying in a manger, the more I appreciate the tremendous wonder of the incarnation.

Count the cost

These thoughts made me think me of something else related to humility, and that is the cost involved in following Jesus. I didn’t go there in our class last week, though. The elements of the Christmas story as recorded in the first part of Luke 2 would be enough for one day.

Philippians 2 contains that early church hymn which our group studied a few weeks back. But there is more.

A sobering injunction directly follows the hymn of Philippians 2:6-11. The writer clearly links the two with the word ‘Therefore’.

“Therefore, …. continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose” .

Philippians 2:12a, 12c-13

Jesus counted the cost when he descended from a throne to a manger. The cross was yet to come.

Perhaps the manger of his infancy also hinted at the homelessness that would be his lot in adulthood. Decades later, Jesus would explain to someone who asked to follow him, “Foxes have dens and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head” (Luke 9:58).

I find this passage sobering because I thoroughly enjoy having a place to call ‘home’. Just the same, as a follower of Jesus, I have to be ready to relinquish it, as I have done before. It was easier when I was younger, though.

It is my hope and prayer that these ladies will, in time, choose to follow Jesus. There are some good people in their lives, of whom I am just one. We are quick to hold out the good news of Jesus’ incarnation, but the reality is that there will be costs in following him as well. May the God who took on frail human form strengthen them to persevere when that time comes.

A feast

A manger is a feeding trough. Animals gladly come to feeding troughs after farmers have been because they are usually filled with good food.

That the baby Jesus was laid in a manger was no coincidence.

The image of a baby in a manger has become a well-accepted image of Christmas. Many people have beautifully carved nativity sets which they set out at this time of year. The animals look adoringly at the newborn baby … at least, that is what we like to imagine they are admiring. Could it also be the fresh hay?

The picture of a ‘feast’ and a ‘table’ laden with good food is woven throughout Scripture. “You have laid a table before me in the presence of my enemies” (Psalm 23:5) is one such picture with which we are familiar. The theme continues through most Christian denominations even today as we ‘come to the Lord’s table’ to celebrate communion. Consider these words of Jesus, spoken near the end of his life:

While they were eating, Jesus took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to his disciples saying ‘Take and eat; this is my body.’
Then he took a cup, and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them, saying, ‘Drink from it, all of you This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins. I tell you, I will not drink from this fruit of the vine from now on until that day when I drink it new with you in my father’s kingdom.’

Matthew 26:26-29

Is it coincidental that the newborn Messiah should be laid in a ‘manger’ – a feeding trough? Jesus himself was the feast that God had prepared for his people. In a very literal way, the one who would call himself ‘The Bread of Life’ (John 6) spent his first hours in a manger, a feeding trough.

A Christmas greeting for 2020

At the end of 2020, I hesitate to greet people with the phrase ‘Merry Christmas’. It’s been a shocking year for many of us. ‘Making merry’ is actively discouraged in many parts of the world this year. No, ‘Merry’ is not the right greeting for Christmas 2020.

Yet Christmas remains special. On that first Christmas, God incarnate physically entered our broken, hurting, contaminated world.

And so, as we, too, contemplate the wonder of Christmas, I shall finish this blog post with this Christmas wish for each of us – you, me, and the many (including the ladies in my neighbourhood) who have come to the Christmas story with fresh eyes this month.

“May the wonder of Christmas be ours.”

For our Saviour was laid in a manger.

Life was hopeless … literally without hope. It was as if they were under a great weight – a breath-of-life-extinguishing darkness.

That was how the people of Israel felt around the time that Isaiah prophesied almost three millennia ago. Their northern enemy was oppressing them and threatening to take over their land. It was just a matter of time before they succeeded. The potential ally to the south would eventually prove inadequate too.

Their land … the land of God’s own people … the promised land … was soon to be stripped away. Almighty God, the One and Only Jehovah, would do nothing to stop the enemy, for he was angry. They were his people, yet they put their trust elsewhere. His was a righteous, zealous jealousy.

Right smack bang in the middle of some magnificent Christmas prophecies which we sing and print on cards today (sections of Isaiah 7 and 9), come these chilling words in Isaiah 8:

Distressed and hungry, they will roam through the land; when they are famished, they will become enraged and, looking upward, will curse their king and their God. They they will look toward the earth and see only distress and darkness and fearful gloom, and they will be thrust into utter darkness.

Isaiah 8:21-22

Pinpricks of light

Isaiah 8 is a dark and gloomy chapter. And yet, throughout, flecks of hope – Christmas hope – prick the inky blackness.

With imagery of torrential flooding and bloody war, Isaiah depicts God as being not absent, but present. God was there in the very midst of the horror. (See Isaiah 8 verses 8 and 10).

The prophet calls on his listeners to fear the LORD Almighty (verses 12-15). In the thick of judgement, he describes God as a sanctuary, even though in almost the same breath he also describes him as a stone that makes men stumble and a rock that makes them fall. This ‘stumbling stone’ imagery harked back to King David’s prophecy of Psalm 118:22-23 and would be directly applied to Jesus some eight centuries later. (Check out Matthew 21:42-44 and 1 Peter 2:4-8.)

And then, in the darkness, Isaiah declared his faith. He declared not only his own faith but that of the children whose very names were, in themselves, prophecy (see Isaiah 7:3 and 8:3)

Bind up the testimony
and seal up the law among my disciples.
I will wait for the LORD,
who is hiding his face from the house of Jacob.
I will put my trust in him.

Here am I, and the children the LORD has given me. We are signs and symbols in Israel from the LORD Almighty, who dwells on Mount Zion.

Isaiah 8:16-18

The final section of Isaiah 8 is somewhat of a mystery to Westerners like myself who barely understand the spirit world, though likely not to people whose daily lives revolve around appeasing the spirit world. In it, Isaiah spoke of the blackness of mediums, spiritists and those they consult (Isaiah 8:19-20). They have ‘no light of dawn,’ he stated. Then he finished with the desperate and distressing verses quoted earlier, in which humans and spirits were ‘thrust into utter darkness’.

Then and now

That was then. This is now. 2020 … a year of dismay.

I watched an hour of world news on TV the other day. War in the Middle East, pillage in Africa, plague in Europe and the Americas, fractured families fleeing violence and oppression all over the world, chaos at all levels of society … the only relief was the sports report at the end.

Tonight, as I edited this piece, I switched on the TV for ‘a break’. On a programme which is usually a light-hearted look at current affairs, I heard the story of a serial murderer. The reporter focused particularly on the pain of those whose lives were destroyed by him either directly or indirectly. At the end of the segment, of course, the television station broadcast telephone numbers for crisis help because the segment may well have stirred up memories of some viewers’ own horror stories.

Where is God in our broken and hurting world?

Isaiah 8 speaks to us today just as it did to the Israelites back then. In the chaos, God is present. Immanuel – God with us. Trust in him and wait. Trust and wait…….

Nevertheless….

Throughout 2020, our ‘annus horribulus’ (as the Queen might say), we have been encouraged ‘to pivot’. Thank God, quite literally, for a welcome ‘pivot’ in the book of Isaiah, initiated not by us through any cleverness or strength of character but by God himself. The first word in Isaiah 9 is a glorious transition word: ‘nevertheless’.

Nevertheless, there will be no more gloom for those who were in distress….

The people walking in darkness have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned.

Isaiah 9:1a, 2

In Isaiah 9, we are finally getting back into Christmas-card-quotable verses. This chapter contains magnificent words of hope that have been sung in multiple languages throughout the centuries.

For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders,
And he will be called
Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Isaiah 9:6

Then and now

When Isaiah spoke this prophecy, the people were living in fear and with a sense of hopelessness. Yet even in the midst of the darkness, they were told to trust and to wait.

Seven centuries later, after cycles of rebellion, exile, repentance and return of remnants, light blazed. Brilliance broke into darkness in a literal way that first Christmas with an angelic choir over Israel and a guiding star over a foreign land.

The first Christmas there in Israel has been and gone. Today we hang brightly coloured lights around our houses, over our trees and occasionally even on our clothing in celebration of that light.

Yet in another sense, our Saviour has not yet completely dispelled the darkness. Just switch on the TV and you will see what I mean. As Christians, indwelt with God’s Spirit, we radiate light in a dark and dreary world. The apostle Paul urged his readers to imitate Jesus’ life and in so doing, we would be “… children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe…..” (Philippians 2:15b)

A city of light

Jesus was born. The prophecy was fulfilled.

And yet we still live in a dark world. We sparkle like stars, yes, but darkness has not yet been fully dispelled. Disease, dismay and death surround us. Can we trust and wait, like Isaiah did back in Israel in the dark and hopeless days of the eighth century BC? Can we trust and wait on God as the early Christians did in the oppressive Roman world of the first century?

Consider the vision that the early church leader John was given. It’s purpose was to provide hope and to encourage perseverance of battered and bruised believers. It is as relevant to us now as it was to the early Christians back then. John wrote:

I did not see a temple in the city, because the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are its temple. The city does not need the sun or the moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and the Lamb is its lamp.

Revelation 21:22-23

Immanuel – God with us

Isaiah’s prophecy was fulfilled. God was with those Israelites even in their difficult days. Judgement was imminent, but in the judgement, mercy was offered. Immanuel – God with us.

Fast forward 750 years (more or less). Jesus, Immanuel, the Light of the World, was born. The darkness tried to put out the light, but the light prevailed for it was more powerful than the darkness. (See Matthew 4:12-17, John 1:5, 3:19-21, John 8:12, John 12:35-36.)

As God’s people, united with Jesus himself, we also shine in the darkness. (See 2 Corinthians 4:6, Ephesians 5:8, 1 Peter 2:9, 1 John 1:5-7.)

God is with us in our difficult days. Immanuel.

Jesus will return in power and glory. Death will be defeated once and for all, along with decay, disease, despair and darkness. Immanuel.

Right now, though, our world is still dark. Nevertheless, Almighty God has intervened decisively and continues to intervene. Immanuel.

At the end of a year the like of which we wish we may never have to endure again, may we shine brightly for Jesus. For he, the light of the world, has come. Immanuel.

And so we trust and wait … and shine. Immanuel.

Happy Christmas. Immanuel.

Life was simpler for past generations. 

You spent what you earned, but no more … not unless you borrowed money for a home. You focused on one task at a time without your phone constantly alerting you of this or that or something else. ‘Food miles’ were low and produce was fresh. To ’cut and paste’ required scissors and glue. 

But would I want to live in a world without antibiotics? I rather enjoy our modern cuisine from around the world. Sliced bread is a staple in my home. 

Modernisation has impacted us all. In some parts of the world, its impact has been immense, influencing even the very way we think. 

Cultural incongruity

Today’s post was sparked both by an academic article I read yesterday as well as a particular online conversation with an experienced Christian worker who played a significant role in training me for ministry. 

The article which sparked this train of thought was written by a world renowned social scientist, Dr Rodney Stark, and a PhD student of his with Chinese heritage. This is what they wrote just six years ago.

Turning to the particular situation of educated Chinese, we explore how the rapid influx of technical and economic modernity into a traditional society can create a crisis of cultural incongruity – a conflict between the cultural assumptions  of modernity and those of traditional religious culture.

Stark, Rodney, and Xiuhua Wang. “Christian conversion and cultural incongruity in Asia.” Interdisciplinary Journal of Research on Religion 10 (2014). Page 3

What are the ‘cultural assumptions of modernity’ and how are they different to ‘those of traditional religious culture’? 

Dr Stark and Dr Wang (I used the title ‘Dr’ for the latter presuming that Dr Stark’s student has earned the PhD by now) go on to suggest that differences in the very way we think is a key factor in creating such ‘cultural incongruity’.  (I really like the sound of that phrase … ‘cultural incongruity’ … it sounds intelligent and the repeated ‘k’ sound is fun.)

Drs Stark and Wang go on to explain that a traditional Chinese worldview actually focuses on and is devoted to the past rather than the future. This poses a challenge to modernisation.

The primary impediment to modernisation in Asia was devotion to the past, as symbolised by so-called ancestor worship. It was believed that history traced a descent from more enlightened times.

Stark, Rodney, and Xiuhua Wang. “Christian conversion and cultural incongruity in Asia.” Interdisciplinary Journal of Research on Religion 10 (2014). Page 8

As a language nerd, I see the academics’ observation that Chinese traditionally look to the past reflected in the very language itself. Let me illustrate this observation with some examples about how Chinese language expresses time.

First, however, gear up for a language lesson or skim over the following two sections if you’d rather. 

A mini language lesson – part 1 – year, month and day

The Chinese word for ‘year’, 年 (nian), was apparently originally written as a pictograph of grain 禾 carried by a person 人, looking like this: 秂. In an agricultural society with four distinct seasons, this is an activity that would occur annually. Over the years, the character 秂 was simplified to become 年.

The Chinese word for ‘month’, 月 (yue), is a pictograph of the moon. Can you see it there? A full cycle of the moon is, of course, a month. 

The Chinese word for ‘day’, 天 (tian), is a pictograph of the sky, the line at the top 一, with the symbol for ‘big’ 大 underneath it. ‘Big’ 大 is itself a picture of a person 人 with their arms wide out, as if to say, “THIS big!” 大. 

So there you have ‘year’, ‘month’ and ‘day’ in this language which is rich in symbolism. But this doesn’t yet illustrate the focus on the past that I am arguing is inherent in the national language of China itself. For that, I need to explain just a few more Chinese characters, and can’t resist the opportunity to highlight a few of the pictures within them. 

Mini language lesson – part 2

The Chinese word for ‘go’ is 去 (qu), made up of radicals for soil 土 and secret 厶. I like the idea of what is ahead being somewhat unknown – as if it were concealed in the earth and secret. If I bump into a friend on the road, I might ask, “Where are you going? 你去哪儿？” She might reply, “I’m going to XXX. 我去XXX.” Both English and Chinese use to verb ‘to go’ in a similar way. 

‘Light’ 明 (ming), is officially my favourite Chinese character. I once had the dubious privilege of participating in a televised Chinese language competition and had to write this character with a calligraphy brush, explaining why it is my favourite. The reason is that it is bright and meaningful, with both the sun 日 and the moon 月 present. 

‘Above’ 上 (shang) and below 下 (xia) are pretty obvious. In the character for ‘above’ 上, the ‘sticking out bit’ is above the line. In the character for ‘below’ 下, the ‘sticking out bit’ is below the line. I can see it quite clearly in the sprigs of mint growing roots in bottles on my kitchen window sill. Above 上 the waterline are green leaves while below 下 the waterline are tender little roots. 

‘Ahead’ 前 (qian) has changed over the centuries. I am told that in its earliest form, it was comprised of a foot 止 over a boat 舟. That makes sense of you think of the motion generated when pushing a boat away from the shore. 

‘Behind’ 后 (hou) is a character which has been recently simplified this past decade in mainland China and some other parts of the Chinese speaking world. In other places, it is still written as 後, in which you can see a radical which I understand means ‘stepping with the left foot’彳 (though find it hard to see that in the pictograph 彳)， thread 纟and friendship 友.  I like the idea that ‘behind’ us there is a whole history of friends and movement all bound together with thread. 

Time orientation reflected in Chinese language

Now we finally get to the point of this blog post … my assertion that a focus on the past is reflected in the very language of China. Let’s pull together the content of the two mini language lessons above. 

‘Last year’ – 去年 (qu nian) quite literally is comprised of two characters: ‘to go’+‘year’. Putting ‘last year’ this way (go to the year) sounds as if the speaker is facing the past rather than the future. 

‘Next year’ – 明年 (ming nian) quite literally is comprised of two characters: ‘light’+‘year’. As a Christian, I love the fact that when we walk in the light of God we have nothing to fear in the year to come. With 2020 having been so difficult, that’s a comfort. 

‘Last month’ – 上个月 (shang ge yue) quite literally is comprised of three characters: ‘above’+‘the’+‘month’. When a Chinese speaker describes the month which has past, it is as if they are looking up. 

‘Next month’ – 下个月 (xia ge yue) quite literally is comprised of three characters: ‘below’+’the’+’month’. When a Chinese speaker describes the month which is yet to come, it is as if they are looking down. 

‘Yesterday’ – 昨天 (zuo tian) involves the character for ‘day’ 天 preceded by a character I didn’t explain in the section above. You might, however, notice the sun radical 日 there, along with another radical 乍 (zha) which can mean ‘for the first time’. It doesn’t have any particular meaning apart from ‘yesterday’.

‘The day before yesterday’ – 前天 (qian tian) quite literally is comprised of two characters: ‘ahead’+’day’. Again, it is as if the Chinese speaker is facing the past as they refer to the day before yesterday. 

‘Tomorrow’ – 明天 (ming tian) quite literally is comprised of two characters: ‘light’+’day’. As a Christian, I am once again comforted to know that although I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, I need not be afraid if I am ‘walking in the light’. 

‘The day after tomorrow’ – 后天 (hou tian) quite literally is comprised of two characters: ‘behind’+’day’. Again, the Chinese speaker is apparently facing the past with their back to to the future as they look to the day after tomorrow.

Time orientation and culture

Are you thoroughly confused now? In short, in English we talk about the future as ahead of us, and we approach it with a forward motion. We face the future. However, in Chinese language, the past is referred to as ahead or above the speaker. Chinese speakers face the past. 

As I look at the Bible, a collection of books written in Middle Eastern cultures, I wonder about the time orientation of the writers. Yes, I know that the words were written by men but inspired by the Holy Spirit, and I’m not questioning the inspiration of Scripture. However, I am enjoying some fresh insights having had my own worldview expanded by a foray into Chinese language and thinking. 

Have you ever wondered why the Bible includes so many genealogies? Perhaps this reflects the value that Bible writers placed on the past. To be sure, powerful lessons about God’s heart for the downtrodden and weak (as well as the strong) are to be found when digging through some of the stories of characters in those genealogies. 

I recently blogged about the Jewish roots of Christianity, contemplating the apostle Paul’s severe admonition not to treat lightly our privilege of being like a cultivated olive branch grafted into the root stock of Judaism (Romans 11). Perhaps we don’t take this passage as seriously as we ought because we don’t have a mindset that looks primarily to the past rather than the future. 

A gospel application

As I ponder these matters, it occurs to me that I have always shared the gospel with a future-facing orientation.“We have all failed to live up to God’s standard of purity. Put your faith in Jesus,” I explain to enquirers, “and you will have life eternal with God. His kingdom is here and yet it is also to come. One day, he will usher in new heavens and a new earth and we shall have new resurrection bodies. Jesus has shown us what is to come. What a hope.” 

A couple of months ago, I wrote a blog post about how we mortal beings can’t truly fathom the dimension of time. I believe that our finite nature restricts our ability to understand the full picture of eternity. As I contemplate the time-orientation of our very culture in this blog post, I wonder if there might also be another time-related aspect of the gospel that I have downplayed. I shall try that gospel summary again but facing the past rather than the future as best I can as a future-facing native English speaker.

Looking back to the beginning of time, we see that God created all things GOOD. God made people in his image to manage his creation. However, his image-bearers were seduced by God’s enemy. They chose to disregard God’s explicit instructions. Mankind’s relationship with this pure God was broken. Through Jesus’ atoning sacrifice, and overcoming the curse of death by his very nature as God, we can be restored to a right relationship with our creator. God is already restoring all things to their rightful order, as they were created to be way back at the start of time. We can have eternal life with the Ancient One and we look forward to the day when he will restore the heavens and earth to the perfection it had at the beginning.

Cultural Incongruity

I rarely think about ‘the good old days’ except, perhaps, as I reminisce with family and old friends about our recent past of the past half century or so. Mostly, however, I look to the future. In no small way, that is because I am a future-focused Westerner. 

My future-orientation is even reflected in my language. Next year … last year … I look ahead or behind.  Next month … last month … again, I look ahead or behind. Tomorrow – yesterday … again, I look ‘towards the morrow’ or behind.

Chinese people, however, have traditionally looked towards the past rather than the future. This orientation is reflected in the very language they use to express time, including the phrases 去年 (go towards last year), 上个月 (upwards into last month), 下个月 (downwards into next month), 前天 (ahead to the day before yesterday) and 后天 (behind to the day after tomorrow) . 

No wonder cultures have clashed (known as cultural incongruence) as traditionally past-facing Chinese engaged with the traditionally forward-facing West. 

Life was simpler in the good old days. In fact, it was good – very good – if you go WAY back to the beginning of time. The days when Adam (and, presumably, Eve) walked in the garden in the coolness of the evening and communed with their Creator and ours … now THEY were the good old days. 

How I yearn for a return to those particular ‘good old days’. What’s more, I have a very great hope that we shall indeed return to them one day! Bible imagery about the God’s kingdom are slightly different to that of the garden imagery of Eden, but the descriptions are just that – descriptions in terms that we mere mortals can understand. The bottom line is that in God’s kingdom, the curse of sin is obliterated, and all creation was once and will again be in harmony. We look forward to a city of divine light with a river and trees. As a modern woman who appreciates her modern conveniences along with the beauty of nature, the city of God sounds quite perfect.