This blog is longer than usual, but I don’t see how to divide it…

In writing about Ruth chapters 3 and 4, I mentioned that Pastor Robert Gelinas of Colorado Community Church talked about the seminal book Jesus and the Disinherited by Howard Thurman, who is described on the book’s Amazon website:

Howard Thurman (1899–1981) was a man of penetrating foresight and astonishing charisma. Hailed by Life magazine as one of the great preachers of the twentieth century, he was a spiritual advisor to Martin Luther King, Jr.,… The first black dean at a white university, he was the cofounder of the first interracially pastored, intercultural church in the United States. His vision of the world was one of a democratic camaraderie born of faith.

I’ll say upfront that I’ve read a lot of books, Christian and secular, about racial injustice and race relations. This one moves me more than any of the others. I’m going to share a few thoughts from chapter one, which closes with an overview of the rest of the book. I recommend you read the book for yourself – it’s not long, just 100 pages. Here are some highlights.

Study this one. It’s horrifying:

It has long been a matter of serious moment that for decades we have studied the various peoples of the world and those who live as our neighbors as objects of missionary endeavor and enterprise without being at all willing to treat them either as brothers or as human beings. I say this without rancor… – page 2

“Seeing people…as objects of missionary endeavor…without being at all willing to treat them either as brothers or as human beings.” Ouch.

The masses of men live with their backs constantly against the wall. They are the poor, the disinherited, the dispossessed. What does our religion say to them? – page 2

This story is long and contains observations from a Hindu in what was then Ceylon. It sets the stage for Dr. Thurman’s theology of how one should live:

In the fall of 1935 I was serving as chairman of a delegation sent on a pilgrimage of friendship from the students of America to the students of India, Burma, and Ceylon. It was at a meeting in Ceylon that the whole crucial issue was pointed up to me in a way that I can never forget.

At the close of a talk before the Law College, University of Colombo, on civil disabilities under states’ rights in the United States, I was invited by the principal to have coffee…He said to me, “What are you doing over here? …This is what I mean.

“More than three hundred years ago your forefathers were taken from the western coast of Africa as slaves. The people who dealt in the slave traffic were Christians. One of your famous Christian hymn writers, Sir John Newton, made his money from the sale of slaves to the New World. He is the man who wrote ‘How Sweet the Name of Jesus Sounds’ and ‘Amazing Grace’…

“The men who bought the slaves were Christians. Christian ministers, quoting the Christian apostle Paul, gave the sanction of religion to the system of slavery. Some seventy years or more ago you were freed by a man who was not a professing Christian, but was rather the spearhead of certain political, social, and economic forces, the significance of which he himself did not understand.

“During all the period since then you have lived in a Christian nation in which you are segregated, lynched, and burned. Even in the church, I understand, there is segregation...

“I am a Hindu. I do not understand. Here you are in my country, standing deep within the Christian faith and tradition. I do not wish to seem rude to you. But, sir, I think you are a traitor to all the darker peoples of the earth. I am wondering what you, an intelligent man, can say in defense of your position.”

Our subsequent conversation lasted for more than five hours. The clue to my own discussion with this probing, honest, sympathetic Hindu is found in my interpretation of the meaning of the religion of Jesus. It is a privilege, after so long a time, to set down what seems to me to be an essentially creative and prognostic interpretation of Jesus …against the background of his own age and people, and to inquire into the content of his teaching with reference to the disinherited and the underprivileged.” – pages 2 – 4

Some things have changed for the better since the 1930s, but it’s instructive to remember how life was when Dr. Thurman extracted Jesus’ rules for living, knowing that Jesus lived in similar circumstances.

Dr. Thurman makes three simple observations:

We begin with the simple historical fact that Jesus was a Jew.  – page 4

The second important fact for our consideration is that Jesus was a poor Jew.  – page 6

The third fact is that Jesus was a member of a minority group in the midst of a larger dominant and controlling group. – page 7

Given that, how does Jesus counsel the disinherited to live? (And it works for both sides.)

There is one overmastering problem that the socially and politically disinherited always face: Under what terms is survival possible? – page 10

This is the position of the disinherited in every age. What must be the attitude toward the rulers, the controllers of political, social, and economic life? This is the question of the Negro in American life. Until he has faced and settled that question, he cannot inform his environment with reference to his own life, whatever may be his preparation or his pretensions. – page 12

The solution which Jesus found for himself and for Israel, as they faced the hostility of the Greco-Roman world, becomes the word and the work of redemption for all the cast-down people in every generation and in every age. – page 18

Dr. Thurman contrasts the Apostle Paul with Jesus. Paul was a Roman citizen with a certain amount of privileges. Jesus had no such privileges.

[By contrast] Living in a climate of deep insecurity, Jesus, faced with so narrow a margin of civil guarantees, had to find some other basis upon which to establish a sense of well-being. He knew that the goals of religion as he understood them could never be worked out within the then-established order.

Deep from within that order he projected a dream, the logic of which would give to all the needful security. There would be room for all, and no man would be a threat to his brother. “The kingdom of God is within.” “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor.”

The basic principles of his way of life cut straight through to the despair of his fellows and found it groundless. By inference he says,

• “You must abandon your fear of each other and fear only God.
• You must not indulge in any deception and dishonesty, even to save your lives. Your words must be Yea—Nay; anything else is evil.
• Hatred is destructive to hated and hater alike.
• Love your enemy, that you may be children of your Father who is in heaven.” – pages 23, 24 – it’s the end of chapter 1 and an overview of the rest of the book, bulleted for clarity.

There is a chapter for each of those four points:

• Fear
• Deception
• Hatred
• Love

Powerful stuff. He lets no one off the hook. After telling the train story that I mentioned Saturday, he tells of watching two little black girls wishing harm on a little white girl. Hatred is wrong, no matter who does it. And, from the first snippet, he writes “without rancor.”

My brothers, show no partiality as you hold the faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of glory. For if a man wearing a gold ring and fine clothing comes into your assembly, and a poor man in shabby clothing also comes in, and if you pay attention to the one who wears the fine clothing and say, “You sit here in a good place,” while you say to the poor man, “You stand over there,” or, “Sit down at my feet,” have you not then made distinctions among yourselves and become judges with evil thoughts? (James 2.1 – 4, ESV)

Be patient, therefore, brothers, until the coming of the Lord. See how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth, being patient about it, until it receives the early and the late rains. You also, be patient. Establish your hearts, for the coming of the Lord is at hand. Do not grumble against one another, brothers, so that you may not be judged; behold, the Judge is standing at the door. As an example of suffering and patience, brothers, take the prophets who spoke in the name of the Lord. Behold, we consider those blessed who remained steadfast. You have heard of the steadfastness of Job, and you have seen the purpose of the Lord, how the Lord is compassionate and merciful. But above all, my brothers, do not swear, either by heaven or by earth or by any other oath, but let your “yes” be yes and your “no” be no, so that you may not fall under condemnation. (James 5.7 – 12, ESV)

We continue our Lenten meditations with stanzas 29 – 37 of George Herbert’s poem “The Sacrifice.” 

(The bullets allow me to single-space the lines.)

• They choose a murderer, and all agree
• In him to do themselves a courtesy:
• For it was their own case who killed me:
•                                               Was ever grief like mine?

• And a seditious murderer he was:
• But I the Prince of peace; peace that doth pass
• All understanding, more than heaven doth glass:     [“glasse” = appear, show in heaven]
•                                               Was ever grief like mine?             

• Why, Caesar is their only King, not I:
• He clave the stony rock, when they were dry;
• But surely not their hearts, as I well try:
•                                               Was ever grief like mine?

• Ah! how they scourge me! yet my tenderness
• Doubles each lash: and yet their bitterness
• Windes up my grief to a mysteriousness:
•                                               Was ever grief like mine?             

• They buffet him, and box him as they list,
• Who grasps the earth and heaven with his fist,
• And never yet, whom he would punish, missed:
•                                               Was ever grief like mine?             

• Behold, they spit on me in scornful wise,
• Who by my spittle gave the blind man eyes,
• Leaving his blindness to my enemies:
•                                               Was ever grief like mine?

• My face they cover, though it be divine.
• As Moses face was veiled, so is mine,
• Lest on their double-dark souls either shine:
•                                               Was ever grief like mine?

• Servants and abjects flout me; they are witty:
• Now prophesy who strikes thee, is their ditty.
• So they in me deny themselves all pity:
•                                               Was ever grief like mine?

• And now I am delivered unto death,
• Which each one calls for so with utmost breath,
• That he before me well nigh suffereth:
•                                               Was ever grief like mine?  –“The Sacrifice” by George Herbert, stanzas 29 – 37.

Then they spit in his face and struck him. And some slapped him, saying, “Prophesy to us, you Christ! Who is it that struck you?” (Matthew 26..67, 68, ESV)

They cried out, “Away with him, away with him, crucify him!” Pilate said to them, “Shall I crucify your King?” The chief priests answered, “We have no king but Caesar.” (John 19.15, ESV)

But the chief priests and the elders persuaded the crowd to ask for Barabbas and to have Jesus executed. “Which of the two do you want me to release to you?” asked the governor. “Barabbas,” they answered. “What shall I do, then, with Jesus who is called the Messiah?” Pilate asked. They all answered, “Crucify him!” “Why? What crime has he committed?” asked Pilate. But they shouted all the louder, “Crucify him!” (Matthew 27.20 – 23, NIV)

Then he released for them Barabbas, and having scourged Jesus, delivered him to be crucified. (Matthew 27.26, ESV)

We’re still in the middle of barley harvest. Ruth and Naomi are eating well, but gleaning is not a long-term solution to their problem.

A few weeks ago, my son Matt, who lives in the Denver area, invited us to go to Colorado Community Church with him. That’s a first. I’ve met the pastor, Robert Gelinas – a good guy, author of Discipled by Jesus. Matt said:

Pastor Robert is doing a series on Ruth. You won’t learn anything, but why don’t you visit anyway?

June and I went, and at lunch afterward the first thing I told Matt was, “You were wrong…I did learn something!”

Pastor Robert took us through Ruth chapter 3 in the series he called “Ordinary Faithfulness.” He used a term I had never heard: disinherited. Naomi and Ruth, as widows, were disinherited. He said Ruth had three strikes against her: she was a woman, a widow, and an immigrant. Robert, who grew up a black street kid in Aurora, the somewhat rough city adjacent to Denver where the church is, introduced us to a book that was meaningful to him (and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.): Jesus and the Disinherited by Howard Thurman. Dr. Thurman was the black pastor of a large multi-racial church, just as Robert is. I found it to be a very insightful book and may do a blog on its principles. Do you want a picture of disinherited? Here’s a chilling vignette (the book was published in 1949):

A few years ago I was going from Chicago to Memphis, Tennessee. I found a seat across from an elderly lady, who took immediate cognizance of my presence. When the conductor came along for the tickets, she said to him, pointing in my direction, “What is that doing in this car?” The conductor answered, with a touch of creative humor, “That has a ticket.” – Page 67

Back to Naomi and Ruth. As Robert said, “Naomi has a plan to get Ruth a man.”

Isn’t Boaz our close relative, the one with whose young women you’ve been working? Maybe it’s time to make our move. Tonight is the night of Boaz’s barley harvest at the threshing floor. Take a bath. Put on some perfume. Get all dressed up and go to the threshing floor. But don’t let him know you’re there until the party is well under way and he’s had plenty of food and drink. When you see him slipping off to sleep, watch where he lies down and then go there. Lie at his feet to let him know that you are available to him for marriage. Then wait and see what he says. He’ll tell you what to do. (Ruth 3.2 – 4, MSG)

In addition to disinherited, here’s something else I learned: Ruth went off script. Naomi’s plan was to get Ruth a man. Ruth’s plan was to get Naomi included.

In the middle of the night the man was suddenly startled and sat up. Surprise! This woman asleep at his feet! He said, “And who are you?” She said, “I am Ruth, your maiden; take me under your protecting wing. You’re my close relative, you know, in the circle of covenant redeemers—you do have the right to marry me.” (Ruth 3.8 – 9, MSG)

Ruth plays the “covenant redeemer” card – not what Naomi had asked her to do because Naomi knew that Boaz was not the closest covenant redeemer. Boaz explained:

You’re right, I am a close relative to you, but there is one even closer than I am. So stay the rest of the night. In the morning, if he wants to exercise his customary rights and responsibilities as the closest covenant redeemer, he’ll have his chance; but if he isn’t interested, as GOD lives, I’ll do it. Now go back to sleep until morning. (Ruth 3.12 – 13, MSG)

When Ruth returns home the next morning, Naomi has a final piece of advice:

Wait, my daughter, until you learn how the matter turns out, for the man will not rest but will settle the matter today. (Ruth 3.18, ESV)

Wait. Chapter four reveals the outcome. The closer relative doesn’t want responsibility for Ruth and Naomi so Boaz marries Ruth, and they have a son:

The neighborhood women started calling him “Naomi’s baby boy!” But his real name was Obed. Obed was the father of Jesse, and Jesse the father of David. (Ruth 4.17, MSG)

Ruth, the disinherited, is the great-grandmother of King David and is listed in Matthew’s genealogy of Jesus:

Salmon had Boaz (his mother was Rahab), Boaz had Obed (Ruth was the mother), Obed had Jesse, Jesse had David, and David became king. (Matthew 1.5 – 6, MSG)

The small story of two widows and a farmer in their out-of-the-way village reminds us that Everyone Counts!

PS You can listen to Pastor Robert’s sermon in its entirety here. The sermon starts about 42:25 into the recording of the entire service.

We’re into Ruth chapter 2 – Ruth, the “small story of two widows and a farmer in their out-of-the-way village.” (Peterson) And the next page in this story was forecast at the end of chapter 1:

They arrived in Bethlehem at the time of the barley harvest. (Ruth 1.22, MSG)

It’s hard to imagine anything more ordinary, but for Naomi and Ruth, it sets up the logical “next thing.”

One day Ruth, the Moabite foreigner, said to Naomi, “I’m going to work; I’m going out to glean among the sheaves, following after some harvester who will treat me kindly.” Naomi said, “Go ahead, dear daughter.” (Ruth 2.2, MSG)

Naomi and Ruth were destitute widows – no means of support. So Ruth wisely says, “I’m going to work.” And in Israel following a harvester and picking up leftovers was a good strategy. You see, there was this law…

“And when you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap your field right up to its edge, nor shall you gather the gleanings after your harvest. You shall leave them for the poor and for the sojourner: I am the LORD your God.” (Leviticus 23.22, ESV)

“Leave them for the poor and sojourner…”

Guided, no doubt, by the sovereign hand of God, Ruth hits the jackpot:

And so she set out. She went and started gleaning in a field, following in the wake of the harvesters. Eventually she ended up in the part of the field owned by Boaz, her father-in-law Elimelech’s relative. A little later Boaz came out from Bethlehem, greeting his harvesters, “GOD be with you!” They replied, “And GOD bless you!” Boaz asked his young servant who was foreman over the farm hands, “Who is this young woman? Where did she come from?” The foreman said, “Why, that’s the Moabite girl, the one who came with Naomi from the country of Moab. She asked permission. ‘Let me glean,’ she said, ‘and gather among the sheaves following after your harvesters.’ She’s been at it steady ever since, from early morning until now, without so much as a break.” Then Boaz spoke to Ruth: “Listen, my daughter. From now on don’t go to any other field to glean—stay right here in this one. And stay close to my young women. Watch where they are harvesting and follow them. And don’t worry about a thing; I’ve given orders to my servants not to harass you. When you get thirsty, feel free to go and drink from the water buckets that the servants have filled.” (Ruth 2.3 – 9, MSG)

We know God guided her – even Naomi, oops, Mrs. Bitter, recognized that they hadn’t been abandoned after all:

Ruth gleaned in the field until evening. When she threshed out what she had gathered, she ended up with nearly a full sack of barley! She gathered up her gleanings, went back to town, and showed her mother-in-law the results of her day’s work; she also gave her the leftovers from her lunch. Naomi asked her, “So where did you glean today? Whose field? GOD bless whoever it was who took such good care of you!” Ruth told her mother-in-law, “The man with whom I worked today? His name is Boaz.” Naomi said to her daughter-in-law, “Why, GOD bless that man! GOD hasn’t quite walked out on us after all! He still loves us, in bad times as well as good!” (Ruth 2.17 – 20, MSG, emphasis mine)

And that sets us up for chapters 3 and 4 – stay tuned.

In the meantime, whatever your current state, remember:

GOD hasn’t quite walked out on us after all! (Ruth 2.20, MSG)

Here we go into the Book of Ruth, which has a surprising start:

Once upon a time—it was back in the days when judges led Israel… (Ruth 1.1, MSG)

“In the days of the judges…” – a chaotic time when “everyone did what was right in their own eyes” and some of their leaders ranged between “not all that great” and evil. During that time, God is at work in the lives of ordinary people.

The leading lady at the beginning of the story is Naomi, and things aren’t going well:

A man from Bethlehem in Judah left home to live in the country of Moab, he and his wife and his two sons. The man’s name was Elimelech; his wife’s name was Naomi; his sons were named Mahlon and Kilion—all Ephrathites from Bethlehem in Judah. They all went to the country of Moab and settled there. Elimelech died and Naomi was left, she and her two sons. The sons took Moabite wives; the name of the first was Orpah, the second Ruth…But then the two brothers, Mahlon and Kilion, died. Now the woman was left without either her young men or her husband. (Ruth 1.1 – 5, MSG)

Widowed and destitute in a foreign country, Naomi does the only thing she can do, and that’s return home. Her daughters-in-law start with her, but then she attempts to send them home. She has nothing to offer them, and Orpah stays in Moab. Then we have the famous scene of Ruth declaring her undying loyalty, remembered best by some of us in the old King James:

And Ruth said, Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God… (Ruth 1.16, KJV)

“Whither thou goest” inspired the words of a popular song, often sung at weddings – I played it for wedding soloists several times back in the day. Here’s a lovely version by Perry Como:

It’s sung as a love song, and it is, but not between a bride and groom, but from a daughter-in-law to her mother-in-law!

So Naomi arrives in Bethlehem with, shall we say, not that good of an attitude:

And so the two of them traveled on together to Bethlehem. When they arrived in Bethlehem the whole town was soon buzzing: “Is this really our Naomi? And after all this time!” But she said, “Don’t call me Naomi; call me Bitter. The Strong One has dealt me a bitter blow. I left here full of life, and GOD has brought me back with nothing but the clothes on my back. Why would you call me Naomi? God certainly doesn’t. The Strong One ruined me.” (Ruth 1.19 – 21, MSG)

Don’t call me “Naomi” – that means “pleasant,” call me “Mara” – “bitter.”

And so the chapter ends…but it’s only chapter one! And it ends with this odd observation:

They arrived in Bethlehem at the time of the barley harvest. (Ruth 1.22, MSG)

The barley harvest?! What’s that got to do with anything? Stay tuned.

Often stories with happy endings get off to a slow start. God called Moses in Exodus 3 and 4 to lead the Israelites out of Egyptian slavery. By the end of chapter 5, things are worse:

Moses went back to GOD and said, “My Master, why are you treating this people so badly? And why did you ever send me? From the moment I came to Pharaoh to speak in your name, things have only gotten worse for this people. And rescue? Does this look like rescue to you?” (Exodus 5.22, 23, MSG)

As we leave the mess of Judges, we stumble across a delightful short story, masterfully told: the Book of Ruth. And, as usual, Eugene Peterson’s introduction, appearing in The Message, is worth a look. He starts by contrasting the great heroes of the Bible with our possible perception of ourselves:

Very impressive. So impressive, in fact, that many of us, while remaining impressed, feel left out. Our unimpressive, very ordinary lives make us feel like outsiders to such a star-studded cast. We disqualify ourselves. Guilt or willfulness or accident makes a loophole, and we assume that what is true for everyone else is not true for us. We conclude that we are, somehow, “just not religious” and thus unfit to participate in the big story.

And then we turn a page and come upon this small story of two widows and a farmer in their out-of-the-way village.

We’re so used to this story and how it ends that we tend to see Naomi, Ruth, and Boaz as bigger than they really were: “…two widows and a farmer in their out-of-the-way village.”

Peterson’s introduction ends this way:

The unassuming ending carries the punch line: Boaz married Ruth, she had a son named Obed, Obed was the father of Jesse, and Jesse was the father of David. [Ruth 4.17]

David! In its artful telling of this “outsider” widow, uprooted and obscure, who turns out to be the great-grandmother of David and the ancestor of Jesus, the book of Ruth makes it possible for each of us to understand ourselves, however ordinary or “out of it,” as irreplaceable in the full telling of God’s story. We count—every last one of us—and what we do counts.

It’s a great story. Stay tuned.

The family tree of Jesus Christ, David’s son, Abraham’s son: Abraham had Isaac, Isaac had Jacob, Jacob had Judah and his brothers, Judah had Perez and Zerah (the mother was Tamar), Perez had Hezron, Hezron had Aram, Aram had Amminadab, Amminadab had Nahshon, Nahshon had Salmon, Salmon had Boaz (his mother was Rahab), Boaz had Obed (Ruth was the mother), Obed had Jesse, Jesse had David, and David became king. (Matthew 1.1 – 6, MSG, emphasis mine)

Thinking about “If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer,” here’s another take. Maybe “it” works better if I’m asking for what God wants me to ask for, asking for what I need to carry out His mission.

If I’m an Air Force fighter pilot, I might get the keys to an F-15 and the fuel I need to fly it. But it’s not so I can go to Tahiti on vacation! It’s so I can fight the war.

Joshua asked for something extraordinary, not to show off but so he could finish the job:

On the day the LORD gave the Amorites over to Israel, Joshua said to the LORD in the presence of Israel: “Sun, stand still over Gibeon, and you, moon, over the Valley of Aijalon.” So the sun stood still, and the moon stopped, till the nation avenged itself on its enemies… The sun stopped in the middle of the sky and delayed going down about a full day. There has never been a day like it before or since, a day when the LORD listened to a human being. Surely the LORD was fighting for Israel! (Joshua 10.12 – 14, NIV)

So this verse that many of us have memorized…

Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask and you will receive, and your joy will be complete. (John 16.24, NIV)

…doesn’t mean just tacking “In Jesus’ name” on the end of our prayers. It means asking for what Jesus would ask for. If I’m the Men’s Department manager in, say, Macy’s, I might buy clothes, lots of clothes “in Macy’s name”! But they’re not for me. I have to buy the kinds of clothes that Macy’s wants to sell.

And if I’m asking for what Jesus would ask for, maybe “whatever things you ask in prayer, believing, you will receive” would work!

Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need. (Hebrews 4.16, ESV)

I was discussing with a friend this word from Jesus:

Assuredly, I say to you, if you have faith and do not doubt, you will not only do what was done to the fig tree, but also if you say to this mountain, “Be removed and be cast into the sea,” it will be done. And whatever things you ask in prayer, believing, you will receive. (Matthew 21.21, 22, NKJV)

“Whatever things you ask in prayer…” It’s a tough one. It’s been over 2,000 years, and I haven’t heard of a single mountain being cast into the sea. People – faithful, devout, believing people – have asked for all kinds of things and not always received them. Healing comes to mind. Even J.P. Moreland who wrote A Simple Guide to Experience Miracles: Instruction and Inspiration for Living Supernaturally in Christ and prays for healing all the time said that only about 20% of the folks he prays for are healed.

So what did Jesus mean? Some people have built an entire ministry and philosophy of life around “whatever things you ask for…” It’s called “Positive Confessionalism” or “Name it and Claim it” or “The Prosperity Gospel,” which many of us think is heresy.

So I still don’t know exactly what Jesus meant. I think there is power that most of us don’t avail ourselves of, but I don’t think that power is unlimited as the name it and claim it folks might teach.

Here’s one way to think about it. Suppose it’s literally true, 100% of the time. That I could ask for whatever I want and receive it. Would I want to live in such a world? Not in my current state! It would feel like I was in charge, and I’d really rather have God be in charge, wouldn’t you?

Garrison Keillor, the great storyteller, was spinning a tale about some people in “Lake Woebegone Minnesota, my hometown,” when he uttered this gem. I first heard it over 40 years ago and haven’t forgotten it:

Lucky? Some people are lucky not to get what they want, but to get what they have, which, after they’ve had it, they may be lucky enough to know it’s what they would have wanted had they known about it. – Garrison Keillor, Prairie Home Companion, sometime in the 1980s.

Read it again. God may not give us what we ask for because he’s giving us something better!

I need one more day on this…stay tuned for thoughts on these prayer principles:

Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask and you will receive, and your joy will be complete. (John 16.24, NIV)

This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us. And if we know that he hears us—whatever we ask—we know that we have what we asked of him. (1 John 5.14, 15, NIV)

We continue our Lenten meditations with stanzas 19 – 28 of George Herbert’s poem “The Sacrifice.” 

(The bullets allow me to single-space the lines.)

• They bind, and lead me unto Herod: he
• Sends me to Pilate.  This makes them agree;
• But yet their friendship is my enmity:
  • Was ever grief like mine?

• Herod and all his bands do set me light,
• Who teach all hands to war, fingers to fight,
• And only am the Lord of Hosts and might:
  • Was ever grief like mine?

• Herod in judgment sits, while I do stand;
• Examines me with a censorious hand:
• I him obey, who all things else command:
  • Was ever grief like mine?

• The Jews accuse me with despitefulness;
• And vying malice with my gentleness,
• Pick quarrels with their only happiness:
  • Was ever grief like mine?

• I answer nothing, but with patience prove
• If stony hearts will melt with gentle love.
• But who does hawk at eagles with a dove?
  • Was ever grief like mine?

• My silence rather doth augment their cry;
• My dove doth back into my bosom fly,
• Because the raging waters still are high:  [reference to Noah, the flood, and the dove]
  • Was ever grief like mine?

• Hark how they cry aloud still, Crucify:
• It is not fit he live a day, they cry,
• Who cannot live less then eternally:
  • Was ever grief like mine?

• Pilate, a stranger, holdeth off; but they,
• Mine own dear people, cry, Away, away,
• With noises confused frighting the day:
  • Was ever grief like mine?

• Yet still they shout, and cry, and stop their ears,
• Putting my life among their sins and fears,
• And therefore, wish my blood on them and theirs:
  • Was ever grief like mine?             

• See how spite cankers things. These words aright
• Used, and wished, are the whole world’s light:
• But honey is their gall, brightness their night:
  • Was ever grief like mine? -“The Sacrifice” by George Herbert, stanzas 19 – 28.

Blessed be the LORD my strength, which teacheth my hands to war, and my fingers to fight. (Psalm 144.1, KJV)

And when he learned that he belonged to Herod’s jurisdiction, he sent him over to Herod, who was himself in Jerusalem at that time. When Herod saw Jesus, he was very glad, for he had long desired to see him, because he had heard about him, and he was hoping to see some sign done by him. So he questioned him at some length, but he made no answer. The chief priests and the scribes stood by, vehemently accusing him. And Herod with his soldiers treated him with contempt and mocked him. Then, arraying him in splendid clothing, he sent him back to Pilate. And Herod and Pilate became friends with each other that very day, for before this they had been at enmity with each other. (Luke 23.7 – 12, ESV)

Pilate said to them, “Then what shall I do with Jesus who is called Christ?” They all said, “Let him be crucified!” And he said, “Why, what evil has he done?” But they shouted all the more, “Let him be crucified!” So when Pilate saw that he was gaining nothing, but rather that a riot was beginning, he took water and washed his hands before the crowd, saying, “I am innocent of this man’s blood; see to it yourselves.” And all the people answered, “His blood be on us and on our children!” (Matthew 27.22 – 25, ESV)

Since I like to finish things, we need to bring our meditations on Judges to a close. We left off with Samson last week. He’s the last judge, but there are five chapters left, and they are not pleasant reading.

First, I have confirmed something I was told a few years ago: the two events in this section (Judges 17 – 18 and Judges 19 – 21) actually occurred BEFORE any of the other events of Judges. How do we know? Because the grandsons of Moses and Aaron are involved:

Jonathan son of Gershom, the son of Moses…(Judges 18.30, MSG)

Phinehas son of Eleazar, the son of Aaron, as the ministering priest…. (Judges 20.28, MSG)

Why are these stories included? Apparently to illustrate the truth of the well-known verse in Judges, which comes from these sections:

In those days there was no king in Israel. Everyone did what was right in his own eyes. (Judges 17.6, Judges 21.25, ESV)

And what did they do? In chapters 17 and 18, we have a man, Micah, and later an entire tribe, Dan, making an idol and establishing an ongoing religion with a succession of priests.

First, a man steals silver from his mother:

There was a man from the hill country of Ephraim named Micah. He said to his mother, “Remember that 1,100 pieces of silver that were taken from you? I overheard you when you pronounced your curse. Well, I have the money; I stole it. But now I’ve brought it back to you.” His mother said, “GOD bless you, my son!” (Judges 17.1, 2, MSG)

Then they both make it into an idol:

As he returned the 1,100 silver pieces to his mother, she said, “I had totally consecrated this money to GOD for my son to make a statue, a cast god.” Then she took 200 pieces of the silver and gave it to a sculptor and he cast them into the form of a god. This man, Micah, had a private chapel. He had made an ephod and some teraphim-idols and had ordained one of his sons to be his priest. (Judges 17.3 – 5)

Then Micah got a Levite to be his priest (nothing like making things feel more spiritual than with “ordained clergy”).

Micah said, “Now I know that GOD will make things go well for me—why, I’ve got a Levite for a priest!” (judges 17.13, MSG)

Then men from the tribe of Dan take the idol and the priest for themselves.

The five men who earlier had explored the country of Laish told their companions, “Did you know there’s an ephod, teraphim-idols, and a cast god-sculpture in these buildings? What do you think? Do you want to do something about it?”… They said to [the Levite], “Hush! Don’t make a sound. Come with us. Be our father and priest. Which is more important, that you be a priest to one man or that you become priest to a whole tribe and clan in Israel?” The priest jumped at the chance. He took the ephod, the teraphim-idols, and the idol and fell in with the troops. (Judges 18.14, 19 – 20, MSG)

And just as sometimes happens today, the priest is delighted to be “called to a larger congregation”!

And here’s something I saw for the first time. This is not a one-off incident in the time of the Judges:

The Danites set up the god-figure for themselves. Jonathan son of Gershom, the son of Moses, and his descendants were priests to the tribe of Dan down to the time of the land’s captivity. All during the time that there was a sanctuary of God in Shiloh, they kept for their private use the god-figure that Micah had made. (Judges 18.30, MSG, emphasis mine)

This went on “down to the time of the land’s captivity…” as long as there “was a sanctuary of God in Shiloh…” I don’t know if this practice kept up until the temple was built in the days of Solomon or until the Assyrian conquering of the northern tribes (which would include Dan) but either way, a long time. Actions have consequences – this chain started by one guy and his mother.

In the ninth year of Hoshea, the king of Assyria captured Samaria, and he carried the Israelites away to Assyria and placed them in Halah, and on the Habor, the river of Gozan, and in the cities of the Medes. And this occurred because the people of Israel had sinned against the LORD their God, who had brought them up out of the land of Egypt from under the hand of Pharaoh king of Egypt, and had feared other gods and walked in the customs of the nations whom the LORD drove out before the people of Israel, and in the customs that the kings of Israel had practiced. And the people of Israel did secretly against the LORD their God things that were not right. They built for themselves high places in all their towns, from watchtower to fortified city. (2 Kings 17.6 – 9, ESV)

I had planned to write the follow-on blog on the events of Judges 19 – 21, but this is a G-rated blog, and the text is nearly R-rated. Suffice it to say that it’s ugly, a picture of what happens when…

Everyone did what was right in his own eyes.

And there’s no question that we’re living in such an age now. An X-rated age if you look hard enough. The Internet, built for scientific collaboration, has become, by any measure, a vast storehouse of readily available pornography, and that’s not counting how accessible it’s made gambling.

God includes five ugly chapters in the sacred text to remind us of the folly of doing what is right in our own eyes. We need to reject today’s common “follow your heart” mantra – the same thing.