Maybe I’m Pharaoh

As we read the story of the Israelites in slavery in Egypt… as we read about the plagues and the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart… I’m not sure we ever put ourselves in Pharaoh’s place (at least, I didn’t, until this morning).

This revelation that I might be more like Pharaoh than I’d like to admit came on the heels of the narrative of the death of Ezekiel’s wife (see Ezekiel 24:15-27).  The story actually made me kind of angry (Do we admit that about Scripture?  I don’t really know…).    As I was reading, I had these moments where I thought, “Don’t you even care?” and, “For crying out loud, don’t let go!  Hang onto this!”  The words are rough: “With one blow I am about to take away from you the delight of your eyes. Yet do not lament or weep or shed any tears” (v.16)… after that, I just read blah… blah… blah… blah… blah…  And I am about 152% sure that’s not how I should hear the word of the Lord. 

In that frame of mind, somehow when I came to Exodus 10:21, as the Lord hardens Pharaoh’s heart and, “he was not willing to let them go,” I felt this weird (probably completely inappropriate) compassion for Pharaoh, which I never could have imagined.  I’m pretty sure it’s because I have trouble letting go of people (and situations… and things…), even when it’s hurting me… or them… 

This next part might come across incoherent, but please try to bear with me, because the whole thing was coming together pretty early in the morning…

A song came to mind… Caedmon’s Call (no surprise, since they have been my favorite since the mid-90s)… “Prove Me Wrong” (more of a surprise, since it comes from what is probably my least favorite Caedmon’s album, if there is such a thing, and clearly I am not a real fan of being proven wrong…).  Undoubtedly, this song surfaced specifically because of the line about Pharaoh, but it left me thinking more…

Is this holding on a doubt thing?  I don’t know.  Maybe.  I do know that Mark 9:24 keeps sounding loudly, somewhere at the subconscious level, lately: "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!" (NIV).

I was recently described as tenacious (which I took as a compliment), but I am trying desperately to determine the appropriate balance between holding on and letting go.  Which one requires more belief?  I don’t love the answer…

 
L.

It’s Better to Know

Sometimes I think we’re all just a little bit too unaware. 

In reading about the Israelites, today, these words speak directly into some of the social and political contexts that are most prevalent in our current culture:

Ezekiel 39:26-29, “They will forget their shame and all the unfaithfulness they showed toward me when they lived in safety in their land with no one to make them afraid. When I have brought them back from the nations and have gathered them from the countries of their enemies, I will be proved holy through them in the sight of many nations. Then they will know that I am the Lord their God, for though I sent them into exile among the nations, I will gather them to their own land, not leaving any behind. I will no longer hide my face from them, for I will pour out my Spirit on the people of Israel, declares the Sovereign Lord” (NIV).

This passage comes at the end of the Lord’s words regarding exile, and it’s worthwhile to read more for additional context, but these verses are sufficient for the purposes of this post. 

I was struck by the irony that the Israelites were most unfaithful in the midst of ‘safety.’   Interestingly, I think we are much the same.  It’s easy to give lip service to our desire to be the hands and feet of God in the world, but it is much more difficult to actually be them.  As an example, in recent days I have heard several people speak about how, as the white, American Church, we have prayed for years (even decades, maybe longer) for open doors to reach out to others from diverse cultural and religious backgrounds.  However, we had a very specific plan in mind that would allow us to enter into their world, blowing in and out with our truth in such a way that they would convert and begin to look just like us.  It’s appalling if you think about it long enough (or at all).  Interestingly, we seem averse to those same people groups setting foot on our turf.  We insist that God must answer our prayers in our way, in our time, or we will not be faithful to love the people we thought we wanted to.  We are unfaithful when we are ‘safe.’

I’m not a huge fan of fear, but maybe we need to be afraid—not of others but of ourselves.  I should be clear: I don’t think our well-being is actually threatened by ‘the other.’  I think our fear is misplaced.  Maybe we need to recognize that we are not the gold standard of truth or culture or religion or anything.  We are the problem.  No one wants to hear that, even if it’s true.  But sometimes it doesn’t matter whether or not we want something.

So here are a few more words we might pray:   

Psalm 139:23-24, “Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting” (NIV).

It’s better to know where our own culpability lies.  It’s better to be real, even if it hurts.  This is how we let go for the sake of others. Let me be the first to confess my offensive ways.  Change begins here.

L.

Intervention is Not Intercession… But…

There’s a scene in the movie, “Finding Nemo,” where Bruce, a great white shark, ‘invites’ (for lack of a better word) Marlin and Dory to a meeting of the Fish-Friendly Sharks support group.  Fish are his weakness.  He is, after all, a shark.  We don’t know his entire back-story (How about a “Finding Bruce” movie, Pixar?), but we do know a few things: Bruce never knew his dad, he hasn’t eaten a fish in three weeks, and he has exactly two friends (Anchor and Chum), in an entire ocean teeming with sharks, who are trying to swim the same, hard, fishless eating road.  When an accident leaves Bruce assaulted by the smell of blood; even though he has overcome adversity, he reverts to his old self.  Thankfully for Marlin and Dory, Anchor and Chum are there to push him up against a wall, shouting, “INTERVENTION!”

What could this possibly have to do with Scripture?

Romans 8:26-27, “In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God” (NIV).

I’ve read this passage of Romans more times than I could guess.  I’ve memorized it.  Once I went to a church where the senior pastor took several years to preach through the book of Romans, so I understand the concepts are enormous and must be taken in small ‘bites.’  I’ve quoted it.  I’ve answered questions over it in Bible quizzing.  I should have a lot of deep, meaningful things to share.  But when I read it, this morning, all I could think about was Bruce (and it’s not even because I recently watched “Finding Nemo,” because I haven’t…).

Intercession is not the same as intervention, but maybe it’s close in this particular instance.  I don’t think we have a god who watches for moments to forcefully back us up against walls, just to get his way, but I do think we have a relational God who intercedes, as Spirit, when we invite such action.

God’s interaction with the people of Israel always baffles me a bit.  Today’s reading was no exception:       

Ezekiel 39:28-29, “Then they will know that I am the Lord their God, for though I sent them into exile among the nations, I will gather them to their own land, not leaving any behind. I will no longer hide my face from them, for I will pour out my Spirit on the people of Israel, declares the Sovereign Lord” (NIV).

When I read passages such as this one, I can’t help but wonder how things got to this point.  They were the chosen people!  How can they not already know that God is their God?  How could God send them into exile?  The implications for this are huge on multiple levels.  Does God thwart their free will?  Does God even love the people God chose, if God is willing to take such action Godself?  And why does God decide to bring them back?  Is the timing arbitrary?  Have they simply paid enough for their offenses now that an entire generation is dead?  And, wait.  God was hiding?  Please excuse me while I feel a little bewildered by the question, “Why would Israel want this kind of God?”

To understand any of this, I think we have to take a step way back, realizing that God chose Israel, but covenant cannot be one-sided.  The Israelites do break the covenant, time and time again, which (at least in theory) means that God is also free to walk away from the terms.  Interestingly, God doesn’t do this.  In some ways, God even seems to go above and beyond the terms of agreement, taking chance after chance on these people God has chosen.  And so, when God leads the Israelites back into a land of their own, it is, perhaps, actually more an act of grace than one of control.  I don’t suppose God would have forced such a migration, and even if God had tried; who’s to say the Israelites would have listened this time around?  To me, it seems more like God offered an option.

“Hey Israelites!  I’m not sure you even know what you want, but there’s this Promised Land… if you’re interested…”

It had to be relational.

Let’s just imagine Anchor and Chum were two random sharks Bruce had never met.  Do you think their intervention would have been successful?  Because I kind of think we would have had either a couple of dead sharks… or a couple of dead fish… or both… on our hands, and that would have made for a terrible scene in a children’s movie!

Anchor and Chum were allowed to speak truth into Bruce’s life, because they were friends.  They had spent many days together discussing the desire to live a better, transformational, radically unusual life.  Even when Bruce forgot what he wanted, his friends remembered and intervened.

Let’s just imagine God was some random being the Israelites had never known.  Do you think God’s offer of hope and new life would have been accepted?  Because I think the Israelites had enough trouble connecting to this God they did know, from the beginning.  I think, without a foundational relationship, they might have wandered for another 40 years… or maybe forever.

God was allowed to speak truth into the lives of the people of Israel, because they knew one another intimately.  They had spent generations living together in the ebb and flow of both ordinary days and extraordinary ones.  All of the experiences from love to hate to joy to pain had been shared.  Even when the Israelites forgot what they wanted, God remembered and offered it to them.

But what about us?

I don’t know about you, but I can be unsure of what I want or even unclear regarding what I “ought to pray for…” (Rom. 8:26).

It doesn’t even have to be a matter of eating my friends or breaking covenant!  Often, there are multiple good options.  Making decisions can be difficult.  Life is hard!  And so, I desperately need the Spirit to search my heart, to intercede when I have no words, because I am so very interested in what ought to be. 

L.