Tag Archives: 2 Kings 16

Destructive Deference

Destructive Deference (CaD 2 Ki 16) Wayfarer

[King Ahaz of Judah] took away the Sabbath canopy that had been built at the temple and removed the royal entryway outside the temple of the Lord, in deference to the king of Assyria.
2 Kings 16:18 (NIV)

I hate conflict. I don’t like difficult situations. I’m sure I’m not alone.

One of the realities of this life journey in this imperfect world is that conflict is unavoidable (not that I haven’t tried to avoid it) as are difficult situations and crucial conversations.

This morning as I sat in the quiet and wrote my Morning Pages, what poured out of me was a string of events, situations, and relationships over many, many. years in which I chose passivity rather than purposed initiative, silence rather than strife, and escape rather than engagement. As the confession rolled off my ballpoint onto the pages I had to acknowledge the collateral damage I caused because of my unwillingness to simply step up to the plate and into the box.

Then, I opened the Great Story and it was as if God had synchronized my confession and the content of today’s chapter.

Ahaz takes the throne of Judah. The political situation in Judah is tenuous. Judah has been squeezed and diminished by enemies on all sides who have whittled away at their territory. Ahaz appears to be the quintessential “pleaser” who caters to everyone. There’s not a god he won’t worship, not a sacrifice he won’t make (even his own child), nor an offering he won’t give to ensure his power and security.

The Arameans and the Northern Kingdom of Israel come to lay siege to Jerusalem, and Ahaz appeals to the ascendant Assyrian Empire for help. Ahaz steals gold and silver from God’s Temple and sends it to the king of Assyria as a gift. When Assyria comes to the rescue, Ahaz visits the Assyrian king. He then sends word to the high priest Uriah back in Jerusalem to build an altar like the Emporer uses for worship and to put it in God’s temple. He orders that God’s temple be altered to be like the one where the Emporer worships. He orders that the worship of God be changed to be like what the King of Assyria does. He does all of this “in deference” to the king of Assyria. Ahaz’s faith was in appeasement. His trust was in the most powerful human protector he could afford.

Along my life journey, I’ve observed that deference can be a noble quality in the right context. However, the twenty-twenty hindsight in my Morning Pages this morning also reveals that I have often used “deference” as a cover and an excuse for my fear. I used it as an excuse for not appropriately confronting people and circumstances when I should have. I leveraged it to rationalize my passive avoidance of crucial conversations. Like Ahaz, my deference has been ultimately destructive.

Mea Culpa.

In the quiet this morning, I am grateful for God’s grace, mercy, and forgiveness. No matter how far I get in my spiritual journey, I still have more to learn, more to confess, and more to grow. I can’t do anything to change the mistakes of my past, but I can make different choices and decisions today than those I made before.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Life Between the Prevailing Wind and Hard Heart

Then King Ahaz went to Damascus to meet Tiglath-Pileser king of Assyria. He saw an altar in Damascus and sent to Uriah the priest a sketch of the altar, with detailed plans for its construction.
2 Kings 16:10 (NIV)

Last week Wendy and I found ourselves in a discussion about the hazing rituals we experienced growing up. For Wendy it was the process of pledging in a college sorority. For me it was being part of a high school swimming team. In both our cases, the hazing was the relatively minor and harmless. It was the ages old exercise of new members demonstrating allegiance and loyalty to the group and its elder members. There are nightmare stories of those who have been forced to do things against their will in order to be accepted. There are also stories of those who choose to behave against their beliefs, morals, or personal values simply to accommodate the prevailing cultural forces. And, it is ages old. These things have always been part of our human experience east of Eden.

Today’s chapter is dedicated to the reign of King Ahaz of Judah. According to the description provided us by the scribes, Ahaz appears to have had a pattern of choosing to accommodate the prevailing winds of his society’s popular culture. Ahab was a follower. Rather than being faithful to the Law of Moses and adhering exclusively to the faiths of his fathers, Ahaz seemed willing and open to worship anything anywhere. He even went so far as to sacrifice his own child which was a common practice among some of the more gruesome Canaanite cults (and explicitly forbidden by the law of Moses). Ahaz also worshiped the idolatrous gods of their northern counterpart, Israel.

When threatened by military conquest by his neighbors, Ahaz was unwilling to stand up and lead his army in defense of his nation and people. Ahaz was a follower. So, he appealed to the biggest bully in the neighborhood for protection: Tiglath-Pileser of Assyria (note: featured photo of this post is a relief showing Tiglath-Pileser standing over an enemy). The Assyrian warlord was happy to take Ahaz’ gold and defend Judah, but protection came with a higher price than just gold.

After the successful defense of Judah, Ahaz had to complete an ancient form of hazing by traveling to Assyria to pay his respects to Tiglath-Pileser and to prove his subservience. While in Assyria, he copied the plans to an altar there and sent it to be replicated and placed in Solomon’s Temple in Jerusalem. Scholars believe that this altar was likely the royal altar of Tiglath-Pileser, and its presence at the center of the Temple in Jerusalem would have been a sign that Tiglath-Pileser was to be worshipped as their protector. Ahaz, ever willing to worship anything, anywhere was only too happy to make this accommodation.

This morning I’m thinking about character, subservience, and accommodation. There is a fine line between harmless societal rituals and cruel hazing. There are some who will go along with the crowd to the point of losing themselves, and there are also some who err on the side of being so self-righteous about their beliefs that they cannot extend even an ounce of grace and mercy to those who disagree with every jot and tittle of their dogma. Once again I’m thinking about finding the truth in the tension between the extremes. I don’t want to be an Ahaz who simply “goes with the flow” and follows the prevailing winds of culture to the point that my faith is meaningless. I also don’t want to be so rigid and hard-hearted in my personal standards that love, grace, mercy and forgiveness get squeezed out of my life and relationships.

Chapter-a-Day 2 Kings 16

But the old bronze Altar that signaled the presence of God he displaced from its central place and pushed it off to the side of his new altar.2 Kings 16:14 (MSG)

We live in the culture of the "new and improved." We don't build things to last. We build things to be disposed and replaced with the "new and improved." My grandparents had the same television for twenty years. The "new and improved" HD television I bought seven years ago was out of date in less than five. Before we even have a chance to get used to our iPod or cell phone, there is a new "generation" to displace it. Even the government gives people [borrowed] cash for clunkers so that we will dispose of the old car and buy the new.

Certainly, there is nothing inherently wrong with new things. Even Jesus said he came to make all things new. I simply wonder how much of our dispose and displace culture creeps into the living out of my faith. The things of God are ancient. The things of God are eternal. They don't rust and wear out. And yet, I'm conditioned by my culture to distrust, displace and dispose of the old. I'm conditioned to yearn for something new and improved and trust that it is better, stronger, faster, quicker, more efficient, and more enviromentally friendly.

How easy is it for me to feel that faith of my fathers is old and outdated when I haven't even scratched the surface of its depth and truth?

I don't want to displace God from the central place in my life. I don't want to push Him off to the side. Instead of falling into the unconscious trap of dismissing the ancient things of God simply because they seem old, I prefer to spend my early morning hours digging in and plumbing their depths. Interestingly enough, I find that they are faithfully "new every morning."