It was a tough week in the Daily Bible. Last week, we read about God describing the materials and dimensions and requirements for the building of the tabernacle and the priestly garments. This week those things were built, just as God commanded, which is a good thing and all, but the descriptive passages were nearly identical. It was too soon to go through that again. I'm not a great visualizer. So I didn't really get the tabernacle picture last week, and I still don't have it. Oh, I've seen pictures. But when I read it, I kind of go into a survival mode where my only goal is to finish. And that's not the right attitude, I know.
Except for those couple of chapters that we skipped last week that we're going to pick up again sometime in the future, we're finished with Exodus. This week's readings also covered a few bits of Leviticus, the rest of which we'll find with those missing Exodus chapters later. But the lion's share (or so it seemed) of this week's reading was from Numbers. Oh, Numbers, how you test me. There's a passage in chapter seven that describes the offerings brought by the leader of each tribe. They all brought identical offerings of twenty-six different items over the course of twelve days and seventy-one verses. Then in case one missed out on those seventy-one verses, there's a summation of the total offerings from all the tribes. Numbers chapter seven tests my faith. I'm just being honest here.
I understand, or at least try to understand, the importance of those careful instructions regarding tabernacle construction, and I'm going to understand later the importance of the details of the law. God's in the business of making these people set apart. Holiness doesn't just happen. It's not easy, and an obedient heart, a heart that seeks to draw near to God through the methods that He prescribes, is the big deal. So I read most of these passages that occasionally get repetitive, and I appreciate that God, through Moses, is trying to emphasize that obedience matters. So I can be as understanding and appreciative as can be, but it's still a tough read, when taken all together.
But just in case careless readers didn't understand that God is serious about obedience, in this week's reading, we also have, from Leviticus 10, the unauthorized fire of Nadab and Abihu. This is an interesting story to me. It's not the first or last time that some Bible character will know what God expects and do something else anyway. But it is one of those instances when the consequences for disobedience are immediate and final. This sparked a decent amount of discussion in our class this morning. Why does Aaron, who creates an idol for worship, get off with an admonishment while his sons use the wrong fire and get swallowed up in fire instantaneously? A very wise commenter in class saved me from more useless speculation by declaring it a heart issue. God knows the hearts of people in a way that we can't, and perhaps there was something unrepentant or so blatantly defiant in Nadab and Abihu that required their punishment.
As the discussion went on around me, I was struck by the similarities of Nadab and Abihu to one of the few New Testament examples of God's swift and irreversible punishment: Ananias and Sapphira. I don't want to steal a story from next November, but these two early Christians sell a piece of property and lay a portion of the money at the apostles' feet. No one was forcing them to give anything, but when others were giving all that they had to the young community of faith, Ananias and Sapphira keep something back and lie about giving it all. And God strikes them dead without so much as a "how do you do." Just as in the case of our priestly brothers, they weren't the first or last try to serve self and God at the same time. But they were punished in a very public and permanent way.
It occurs to me that in both cases, these folks were caught in their sin when their respective faiths were still young. God was still laying down the Mosaic law to the Hebrews when the unauthorized fire incident occurs, and the New Testament church is still in its earliest days in the Acts 5 account. This is purely speculative, but perhaps it was important to show the followers of these fledgling religions that obedience mattered--that though God is merciful and to quote VeggieTales "the God of second chances (Praise the Lord)," He's still God, and His judgment can be swift.
Additionally, both Nadab and Abihu and Ananias and Sapphira were sinning in a worship context. The unauthorized fire was in the tabernacle, where God encountered His people. Ananias and Sapphira brought the partial offering to where the apostles were assembled. It doesn't seem accidental that if you mess with God in His house (and the NT version of His house is the people), you get what you get (or you get what they got). This is all the worst kind of speculation, but they're just the thoughts I was having as we talked about Leviticus 10 this morning.
One last thing I'm processing as I re-encounter God's covenanting with the Hebrews is this story as a foundation for the Incarnation. As the church is a pre-cursor to Heavenly fellowship, the Judaic law is a model for the God-relationship that the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus guaranteed for us. The sacrifice and intercession that God is establishing with this people in this tabernacle are imperfect harbingers of the perfect salvation that is to come. And it's that thought that's going to keep me slogging through Numbers.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Saturday, February 6, 2010
if i had more money than sense
Whenever the Powerball gets up into the hundreds of millions, the Popster always buys a ticket. He doesn't bother when it's any less than that, apparently tens of millions of dollars aren't worth his time, but hundreds he'll trouble himself for. And when he buys a ticket, and sometimes when he doesn't, he and my moma decide what they'd do with hundreds of millions of dollars. The nice part is that I usually end up getting a few million out of the deal. In fact, the first things my moma usually lists off when she's playing this little game is who all she'd give money away to: her kids, her sisters, the church, and so on down the line. I think most people probably say that they'd give money away whether they actually would or not, but when my moma and the Popster say it, I believe it. They are generous folks, and I don't imagine the addition of eight zeros to their bank balance would change that.
So when the Powerball gets high, I root for them rather than buying a ticket of my own. I'm not sure my heart is as generous as my moma's, and hundreds of millions of dollars is a big responsibility. I hope I'd be generous, but what got me to thinking about the Popster and his Powerball tickets was because I was feeling full of wants today, wanting things that are far from necessities.
So if my olds ever win their hundreds of millions and I end up with a windfall as a result, I'd first try to spread some of that around to causes and efforts that help the hungry and hurting. And I'd buy the last quarter of the college education I'm not using. I'd pay off Al, but maybe not get a new car right away. Al and I are getting along splendidly. And I'd settle up some credit card debt and make myself a promise never to get mixed up in that again. I'd stop throwing money away on rent, and make sure there was some money tucked away for a rainy day. Those are just the smart responsible things one does when one can afford it.
But then, I'd do fun stuff. The stuff you don't do or buy when you're trying to be a reasonably responsible, frugal adult.
Today, first on my list is a DSLR camera. I know I just got a new camera, and we're getting along just fine, but the more I see what my little $80 camera can do compared to my sister-in-law's or any of the photographer/bloggers whose photos I drool over, the more I want an expensive big-girl camera of my own.
I'd buy a new couch, one that had never belonged to anyone but me. I am to the point in my life where hand-me-down furniture is just no fun. It would also be a color, not tan or beige or any other code word for bland.
I'd buy too many pairs of shoes. I'd try not to, but it would happen anyway.
And I'd buy at least two more pairs of jeans and at least three more pairs of khakis. I'm down to only one pair each that I actually like to wear. And a new shower curtain. And maybe dishes. And chocolate-covered pretzels.
So those are the things I'm feeling greedy for right now. What, imaginary reader, will you do when my moma and the Popster hit the Powerball?
So when the Powerball gets high, I root for them rather than buying a ticket of my own. I'm not sure my heart is as generous as my moma's, and hundreds of millions of dollars is a big responsibility. I hope I'd be generous, but what got me to thinking about the Popster and his Powerball tickets was because I was feeling full of wants today, wanting things that are far from necessities.
So if my olds ever win their hundreds of millions and I end up with a windfall as a result, I'd first try to spread some of that around to causes and efforts that help the hungry and hurting. And I'd buy the last quarter of the college education I'm not using. I'd pay off Al, but maybe not get a new car right away. Al and I are getting along splendidly. And I'd settle up some credit card debt and make myself a promise never to get mixed up in that again. I'd stop throwing money away on rent, and make sure there was some money tucked away for a rainy day. Those are just the smart responsible things one does when one can afford it.
But then, I'd do fun stuff. The stuff you don't do or buy when you're trying to be a reasonably responsible, frugal adult.
Today, first on my list is a DSLR camera. I know I just got a new camera, and we're getting along just fine, but the more I see what my little $80 camera can do compared to my sister-in-law's or any of the photographer/bloggers whose photos I drool over, the more I want an expensive big-girl camera of my own.
I'd buy too many pairs of shoes. I'd try not to, but it would happen anyway.
And I'd buy at least two more pairs of jeans and at least three more pairs of khakis. I'm down to only one pair each that I actually like to wear. And a new shower curtain. And maybe dishes. And chocolate-covered pretzels.
So those are the things I'm feeling greedy for right now. What, imaginary reader, will you do when my moma and the Popster hit the Powerball?
Friday, February 5, 2010
music & me: because you miss those christmas album blogs
Back when I was talking about Christmas music, I mentioned the story of how I lived without a car radio for six months. I didn't live without music, but my listening joy was confined to songs I owned in a digital format, so I spent half a year not being exposed to new music. Though if I'm being honest, I wasn't hearing new music on the classic rock station that I mostly favored before the death of my car radio. I like music by dead people. I did sometimes listen to country radio, but there's a lot of junk out there in country music these days. Just sayin'.
When the death of the Focus (sigh) brought a working radio and a car payment to my life a year ago, I was excited about the prospect of radio. That lasted for a minute. I'd been out of the loop too long, and I was too used to a life of hearing only the music I liked. I don't remember the specific incident that compelled me to give up mainstream radio entirely, but one day in a fit of dissatisfied station-flipping, I stumbled upon Christian radio, specifically K-LOVE.
I had always been that person that judged Christian music, mostly without listening to any of it. I figured if those folks had any real talent, they'd be doing real music. I also thought that people that listened to Christian music were probably homeschooling their kids and not watching anything that wasn't G-rated. I was a jerk. I get that. But I'm not really the self-censoring type. I typically suppose that if my faith or value system can't withstand a few cuss words or drinking or, for lack of a better descriptor, wrong living, then it's not much of a faith. So there was no reason for me not to listen or watch or read whatever I wanted, and I guess my logic was that I didn't need Christian music or movies or fiction.
What I discovered is that I like Christian music. And apparently any new song I've learned at church and liked in the past seven years came straight from the K-LOVE playlist. Well, not straight I guess. Someone had to come along and arrange an acappella version, but close enough. Another amazing discovery: listening to "positive, encouraging" Christian radio sometimes actually makes me a better person with a better attitude. Seriously. It's not constant and foolproof, but I did notice a difference, especially at first.
I'm not all Christian radio all the time. The deejays are sometimes enough to send me away. I can barely tolerate talking on the radio at all, and there's a lot of talk on K-LOVE and sometimes they're just too positive and encouraging [Can I admit that without getting on the fast track to hell?], so I occasionally flip back to a few other stations, but since working radio also means working cd player and since Al has a six-disk changer (a big step up in the world for me, automotively speaking), when I get tired of talking, I typically switch to cds, which these days means Glee soundtracks in a continuous loop.
Wanna hear more about music I love? Maybe I'll blog about my Glee-love one day soon.
When the death of the Focus (sigh) brought a working radio and a car payment to my life a year ago, I was excited about the prospect of radio. That lasted for a minute. I'd been out of the loop too long, and I was too used to a life of hearing only the music I liked. I don't remember the specific incident that compelled me to give up mainstream radio entirely, but one day in a fit of dissatisfied station-flipping, I stumbled upon Christian radio, specifically K-LOVE.
I had always been that person that judged Christian music, mostly without listening to any of it. I figured if those folks had any real talent, they'd be doing real music. I also thought that people that listened to Christian music were probably homeschooling their kids and not watching anything that wasn't G-rated. I was a jerk. I get that. But I'm not really the self-censoring type. I typically suppose that if my faith or value system can't withstand a few cuss words or drinking or, for lack of a better descriptor, wrong living, then it's not much of a faith. So there was no reason for me not to listen or watch or read whatever I wanted, and I guess my logic was that I didn't need Christian music or movies or fiction.
What I discovered is that I like Christian music. And apparently any new song I've learned at church and liked in the past seven years came straight from the K-LOVE playlist. Well, not straight I guess. Someone had to come along and arrange an acappella version, but close enough. Another amazing discovery: listening to "positive, encouraging" Christian radio sometimes actually makes me a better person with a better attitude. Seriously. It's not constant and foolproof, but I did notice a difference, especially at first.
I'm not all Christian radio all the time. The deejays are sometimes enough to send me away. I can barely tolerate talking on the radio at all, and there's a lot of talk on K-LOVE and sometimes they're just too positive and encouraging [Can I admit that without getting on the fast track to hell?], so I occasionally flip back to a few other stations, but since working radio also means working cd player and since Al has a six-disk changer (a big step up in the world for me, automotively speaking), when I get tired of talking, I typically switch to cds, which these days means Glee soundtracks in a continuous loop.
Wanna hear more about music I love? Maybe I'll blog about my Glee-love one day soon.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
humility is not in my skill set
Today is Groundhog Day here in North America. Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow this morning, so we're in for six more weeks of winter. I like winter, so I'm not complaining, and I'm also considering honoring Phil with a viewing of the Bill Murray classic film in a little while. Can you call films from 1993 classic? I hope so.
Today is also Candlemas, or the Feast of the Presentation of Jesus at the Temple or the Feast of the Purification of the Virgin as it is forty days after December 25. In France, Candlemas is also Crepe Day, so it's a good day to be French.
Today is also World Wetlands Day, so care about the wetlands, officially.
On this day in . . .
. . . 1790 the United States Supreme Court convened for the first time.
. . . 1876 the National League of Major League Baseball was formed.
. . . 1882 author James Joyce was born and on this day in 1922, his novel Ulysses was published.
. . . 1931 Judith Viorst (author of the Alexander books) was born.
. . . 1947 Farrah Fawcett was born.
. . . 1953 Duane Chapman (Dog the Bounty Hunter) was born.
. . . 1977 Shakira was born.
. . . 1990 in South Africa the African National Congress was allowed to function legally.
. . . 1996 Gene Kelly died.
. . . and most importantly, in 1979 I was born.
I am never afraid to talk about myself. Never. But I sometimes think there's something just a bit tacky about making a big deal about your own birthday. We celebrate birthdays for everyone in my department at work, but when it comes time to celebrate mine, I feel silly saying what I want (and then I say anyway). This sudden bashfulness, which I don't possess in any measure for any other aspect of my life, crowds me.
Lucky for you, imaginary readers, there's just enough disconnect in this form of communication that I don't feel the least bit bashful about blogging my birthday. You're welcome.
So I'm 31 today. In fact about I turned 31 at 10:49 a.m. I started this birthday the way that I prefer to start each birthday. A few minutes after my alarm went off but before I had made any effort to get out of bed, my phone rang. My moma and the Popster sang the Popster's special birthday song rendition. I can't describe it or recreate it. But it's phenomenal and integral to the birthday process. I get grumpy when my moma isn't the first person to call me on my birthday. She's had to learn that one the hard way. I make life so hard for my sweet moma. But not today. My usual thing to ask her when I talk to her is if she feels better today than she did however many years ago. I was borderline afraid to ask her that this year since it's been a hard few weeks on my moma. And before we hung up, she said the sweetest thing, that made up for 7 a.m. and being in my 30s and anything else that was going to make me grumpy, "I love you even more today than I did thirty-one years ago." That woman is nonstop precious.
I debated taking the day off like I did last year, but I eventually decided to go to work. Tuesday is a busy day for us, with six classes of students visiting the library throughout the day, and I hated to dump all of that onto someone else. So in honor of my birthday, my delightful coworkers planned and put together a feast. We had nachos piled with every good thing and a chocolate cake that was amazing. I'm glad I showed up for it. But I did leave early--just because I could.
Faithful readers will recall that I did the birthday with the fam a few weeks ago when we were together celebrating Pinkie's birthday, so I've already gotten some loot.
147millionorphans.com is part of a ministry that feeds children in Uganda and supports adoptive families. Ugandan ladies make these necklaces out of magazines and sell them through this website. It's an important work, and I don't have the words to tell you about it, so go here or here to read more. In the meantime, my necklace is gorgeous. Thanks to my brother and sister-in-law and kiddos for it.
There is more loot and, more importantly, more dessert still to come. I'm spreading this celebration out as far as I can.
Today is also Candlemas, or the Feast of the Presentation of Jesus at the Temple or the Feast of the Purification of the Virgin as it is forty days after December 25. In France, Candlemas is also Crepe Day, so it's a good day to be French.
Today is also World Wetlands Day, so care about the wetlands, officially.
On this day in . . .
. . . 1790 the United States Supreme Court convened for the first time.
. . . 1876 the National League of Major League Baseball was formed.
. . . 1882 author James Joyce was born and on this day in 1922, his novel Ulysses was published.
. . . 1931 Judith Viorst (author of the Alexander books) was born.
. . . 1947 Farrah Fawcett was born.
. . . 1953 Duane Chapman (Dog the Bounty Hunter) was born.
. . . 1977 Shakira was born.
. . . 1990 in South Africa the African National Congress was allowed to function legally.
. . . 1996 Gene Kelly died.
. . . and most importantly, in 1979 I was born.
I am never afraid to talk about myself. Never. But I sometimes think there's something just a bit tacky about making a big deal about your own birthday. We celebrate birthdays for everyone in my department at work, but when it comes time to celebrate mine, I feel silly saying what I want (and then I say anyway). This sudden bashfulness, which I don't possess in any measure for any other aspect of my life, crowds me.
Lucky for you, imaginary readers, there's just enough disconnect in this form of communication that I don't feel the least bit bashful about blogging my birthday. You're welcome.
So I'm 31 today. In fact about I turned 31 at 10:49 a.m. I started this birthday the way that I prefer to start each birthday. A few minutes after my alarm went off but before I had made any effort to get out of bed, my phone rang. My moma and the Popster sang the Popster's special birthday song rendition. I can't describe it or recreate it. But it's phenomenal and integral to the birthday process. I get grumpy when my moma isn't the first person to call me on my birthday. She's had to learn that one the hard way. I make life so hard for my sweet moma. But not today. My usual thing to ask her when I talk to her is if she feels better today than she did however many years ago. I was borderline afraid to ask her that this year since it's been a hard few weeks on my moma. And before we hung up, she said the sweetest thing, that made up for 7 a.m. and being in my 30s and anything else that was going to make me grumpy, "I love you even more today than I did thirty-one years ago." That woman is nonstop precious.
I debated taking the day off like I did last year, but I eventually decided to go to work. Tuesday is a busy day for us, with six classes of students visiting the library throughout the day, and I hated to dump all of that onto someone else. So in honor of my birthday, my delightful coworkers planned and put together a feast. We had nachos piled with every good thing and a chocolate cake that was amazing. I'm glad I showed up for it. But I did leave early--just because I could.
Faithful readers will recall that I did the birthday with the fam a few weeks ago when we were together celebrating Pinkie's birthday, so I've already gotten some loot.
The Pioneer Woman Cooks because of my girl-crush on P-Dub. Thanks, Shelle. The new bathmat because I stained mine with hair dye a few months ago. The ice pick because my ice maker leaks and creates a giant ice glob in the tray on a regular basis. The Willow Tree because it's sweet and I'm sweet and my moma is sweet.Thanks to my moma and the Popster for all of that. And that necklace because it's beautiful and there's a beautiful story for it.
147millionorphans.com is part of a ministry that feeds children in Uganda and supports adoptive families. Ugandan ladies make these necklaces out of magazines and sell them through this website. It's an important work, and I don't have the words to tell you about it, so go here or here to read more. In the meantime, my necklace is gorgeous. Thanks to my brother and sister-in-law and kiddos for it.
There is more loot and, more importantly, more dessert still to come. I'm spreading this celebration out as far as I can.
project 4:4 week 4
Last 4:4 post I chose not to delve into the Moses/hard-hearted pharaoh/plagues story because it was split between the two weeks' readings. I also claimed to have much to say on the topic. I hate when I set myself up for failure and writer's block.
And just because transparency is my thing, I'll admit that I got completely behind again this week. I didn't catch up until Sunday afternoon because I'm a lazy slug. I knew I was caught up enough for the sermon, based on the sermon title, and due to still icy roads, we didn't have class, so I let it slide when I realized that it would be hard to get caught up before church. If I can't get motivated to stay on track during Exodus, Numbers is going to be a dark time, a very dark time. Lucky for us all, imaginary readers, you get to live that experience with me.
So here are my transition-less thoughts on Exodus 1-31, minus a couple chapters in the 20s that F. Lagard skipped but will tie in with other law passages later.
So Moses . . . he's like the star of the OT. I love his mother and the daring plan to save him as a baby. She's a part of a long line of biblical mothers who sacrifice and make hard decisions for children who will serve God in a special way. I love his Egyptian mother who provides protection and a privileged upbringing for the son of slaves. I love that despite that privileged upbringing, when he sees a slave being mistreated, he must intervene. I love that even when all he has is excuses, the Lord of all creation doesn't lose patience with him but steadily overcomes his objections until Moses is on board. And I love that for someone who begins his adventure with God so reluctantly, he's going to end up being a person who talks with God face to face, as a friend.
What about Pharaoh's hard heart? I've talked about (for several weeks running now) God's intervention in the lives of these men to bring about the promised nation, and last week I felt comfortable with God giving out free will and accomplishing his purpose despite human weakness. But what about that heart-hardening in the Exodus story? I think in that flannelgraph version, all I really got about this pharaoh is that he's a bad guy, an enslaver of men, a promise-breaker, someone who sits idly by and allows ten kinds of suffering to come upon his people when the power to stop it was always within his grasp. But when I read verses like Exodus 4:21, I wonder if the power to stop was truly his. If God hardens your heart, what does that mean? Could Pharaoh have given the Hebrews his blessing and kept his word? F. Lagard and Chuck both told me this week that God recognized the selfishness and stubbornness in Pharaoh's personality and used that as a part of His ultimate plan. I'm not doubting that the dude had that in him naturally, but that doesn't eclipse the language. That hard heart gets mentioned something like ten times in this story, and in most of those mentions, God gets the credit as the heart-hardener. It's a tough one to reconcile for a New Testament Christian, someone who sees God as "patient . . . not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance." (2 Peter 3:9) I really think I came out of this reading with a better handle on it than I have had in the past, but it's a tough passage for me.
My friend Lacey is in the middle of a blog series about God and remembrance, a topic that I've enjoyed reading about (and one that I once wrote a paper about for my OT survey class at Harding), and in the story of the institution of the Passover feast, we see God teaching his people about remembrance. It's important--He makes it important. Even before the law gets handed down, even before we learn the intricate obedience that will be required to be God's people, we (and the Hebrews) see that God sweats the details. It's important to remember, and it's important to establish an appropriate remembrance. It's important to pass it on as a tradition for generations to come. And considering how easily and how often the children of Israel are going to forget God, His miraculous deliverance from Egyptian bondage, and the extreme lengths to which He went to liberate His people, it's clearly a tradition that's needed.
In addition to some clear instructions on the memorial Passover feast, this week's reading covered the beginning of God's renewed covenant with His people and some clear instructions on their end of the bargain. The ten commandments come down (though the following two chapters of law have been temporarily skipped in my Daily Bible), and intricate barely covers the painstaking care that goes into the design of the tabernacle and implements that will be used in sacrifice and worship. Clearly there are enough tabernacle details for a 75-week sermon series. If you don't believe me, I can tell you the story of how I once lived through that. The thing that really strikes me in this reading is that if God cared so much then about the when and how and with what of worship, can he care any less now? It makes me worry (probably in a good way) about the state of my heart and the sloppiness I bring along in my head when I come to worship. And probably, if I'd paid more attention during that tabernacle sermon series, I might have known that sooner.
And for those of you keeping track of all the foreshadowing, this week we see the groundwork for a blemishless atoning sacrifice. Blood will be shed, but God will never ask that it be the blood of His imperfect people, the people to whom He attempts to draw nearer through miracles and guidance and salvation, then and now.
And just because transparency is my thing, I'll admit that I got completely behind again this week. I didn't catch up until Sunday afternoon because I'm a lazy slug. I knew I was caught up enough for the sermon, based on the sermon title, and due to still icy roads, we didn't have class, so I let it slide when I realized that it would be hard to get caught up before church. If I can't get motivated to stay on track during Exodus, Numbers is going to be a dark time, a very dark time. Lucky for us all, imaginary readers, you get to live that experience with me.
So here are my transition-less thoughts on Exodus 1-31, minus a couple chapters in the 20s that F. Lagard skipped but will tie in with other law passages later.
So Moses . . . he's like the star of the OT. I love his mother and the daring plan to save him as a baby. She's a part of a long line of biblical mothers who sacrifice and make hard decisions for children who will serve God in a special way. I love his Egyptian mother who provides protection and a privileged upbringing for the son of slaves. I love that despite that privileged upbringing, when he sees a slave being mistreated, he must intervene. I love that even when all he has is excuses, the Lord of all creation doesn't lose patience with him but steadily overcomes his objections until Moses is on board. And I love that for someone who begins his adventure with God so reluctantly, he's going to end up being a person who talks with God face to face, as a friend.
What about Pharaoh's hard heart? I've talked about (for several weeks running now) God's intervention in the lives of these men to bring about the promised nation, and last week I felt comfortable with God giving out free will and accomplishing his purpose despite human weakness. But what about that heart-hardening in the Exodus story? I think in that flannelgraph version, all I really got about this pharaoh is that he's a bad guy, an enslaver of men, a promise-breaker, someone who sits idly by and allows ten kinds of suffering to come upon his people when the power to stop it was always within his grasp. But when I read verses like Exodus 4:21, I wonder if the power to stop was truly his. If God hardens your heart, what does that mean? Could Pharaoh have given the Hebrews his blessing and kept his word? F. Lagard and Chuck both told me this week that God recognized the selfishness and stubbornness in Pharaoh's personality and used that as a part of His ultimate plan. I'm not doubting that the dude had that in him naturally, but that doesn't eclipse the language. That hard heart gets mentioned something like ten times in this story, and in most of those mentions, God gets the credit as the heart-hardener. It's a tough one to reconcile for a New Testament Christian, someone who sees God as "patient . . . not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance." (2 Peter 3:9) I really think I came out of this reading with a better handle on it than I have had in the past, but it's a tough passage for me.
My friend Lacey is in the middle of a blog series about God and remembrance, a topic that I've enjoyed reading about (and one that I once wrote a paper about for my OT survey class at Harding), and in the story of the institution of the Passover feast, we see God teaching his people about remembrance. It's important--He makes it important. Even before the law gets handed down, even before we learn the intricate obedience that will be required to be God's people, we (and the Hebrews) see that God sweats the details. It's important to remember, and it's important to establish an appropriate remembrance. It's important to pass it on as a tradition for generations to come. And considering how easily and how often the children of Israel are going to forget God, His miraculous deliverance from Egyptian bondage, and the extreme lengths to which He went to liberate His people, it's clearly a tradition that's needed.
In addition to some clear instructions on the memorial Passover feast, this week's reading covered the beginning of God's renewed covenant with His people and some clear instructions on their end of the bargain. The ten commandments come down (though the following two chapters of law have been temporarily skipped in my Daily Bible), and intricate barely covers the painstaking care that goes into the design of the tabernacle and implements that will be used in sacrifice and worship. Clearly there are enough tabernacle details for a 75-week sermon series. If you don't believe me, I can tell you the story of how I once lived through that. The thing that really strikes me in this reading is that if God cared so much then about the when and how and with what of worship, can he care any less now? It makes me worry (probably in a good way) about the state of my heart and the sloppiness I bring along in my head when I come to worship. And probably, if I'd paid more attention during that tabernacle sermon series, I might have known that sooner.
And for those of you keeping track of all the foreshadowing, this week we see the groundwork for a blemishless atoning sacrifice. Blood will be shed, but God will never ask that it be the blood of His imperfect people, the people to whom He attempts to draw nearer through miracles and guidance and salvation, then and now.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)