This is what the Lord, the God of Israel, said to me: “Take from my hand this cup filled with the wine of my wrath and make all the nations to whom I send you drink it.” Jeremiah 25:15 (NIV)
One of the things I love about reading through the ancient prophets is discovering the metaphorical threads and themes that tie the Great Story together from beginning-to-end. This past Sunday I gave a message in which I unpacked Jesus’ statement, “I am the Gate.” The reality is that the entire Great Story is a series of “outs” and “ins.” From the beginning of Genesis when Adam and Eve get kicked “out” of the Garden of Eden to the end of Revelation when those whose names are written in the Book of Life enter “in” to the City of God.
In today’s chapter, God through Jeremiah declares judgement and destruction on Jerusalem and the surrounding nations. This, of course, is not shocking. Judgement and the Babylonian exile were the dominant themes throughout Jeremiah’s long, prophetic ministry. What was different in today’s chapter was the metaphor God gave Jeremiah when He told Jerry to take “this cup filled with the wine of my wrath.”
Fast forward just over 500 years to the eve of Jesus’ execution. Jesus prays fervently that Father God would “let this cup pass from me.” What cup? The same one Jeremiah speaks of in today’s chapter. The “wine of God’s wrath” is the cup Jesus’ drank when he suffered and died on the cross even though He was innocent. Not only that, but earlier in that same evening Jesus took a cup of wine and told His followers, “Drink from it, all of you. This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.”
This was the great turning point in the Great Story, when God’s own Son drank the Cup of Wrath on behalf of humanity, that the Cup of Forgiveness might be consumed by any willing to drink it.
If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.
The Underdog & The Unprepared (CaD 1 Sam 22) –
Wayfarer
“Then David said to Abiathar, “That day, when Doeg the Edomite was there, I knew he would be sure to tell Saul. I am responsible for the death of your whole family. Stay with me; don’t be afraid. The man who wants to kill you is trying to kill me too. You will be safe with me.” 1 Samuel 22:22-23 (NIV)
I’ve always cheered for the underdog. I’m sure that this is wrapped up in my temperament. Throughout my life’s journey, the teams I ended up adopting are teams that never (or rarely) win the big one, the perennial losers, and the “less than” team in big rivalries. Perhaps this penchant for the underdog is the reason that one of my favorite classic tales has always been Robin Hood. I love the lone upstart who cares for the common man and takes on the prejudicial system. There’s a hint of Christ-likeness in the character and the story.
This came to mind this morning as I pondered today’s chapter. The saga of King Saul and to-be King David is, throughout, a story of contrasts. King Saul is on the throne. He has all of the authority and power. He is, however, a horrible leader. Today’s chapter hints at the fact that King Saul has stuffed his administration with friends and cronies from his own tribe, the little tribe of Benjamin. This could not have played well with the other 11 tribes. Instead of being concerned with the welfare of the nation, Saul is slowly descending into a personal, mad obsession to kill young David, who is anointed by God to become his successor.
Saul is an object lesson in a trifecta of deadly sins: pride, envy, and wrath.
David, in contrast, has all the gifts of a strong leader in the making. His courage, humility, and military prowess have made him popular with the people. David, however, has no nobility, social standing, or systemic power. Rather, he’s got a price on his head. The king is myopically focused on killing him. He flees into the wilderness.
David is an object lesson in the forging of a great leader through injustice, suffering, and sore trials.
In the wilderness, hiding first in a cave and then in a forest, today’s chapter states, “All those who were in distress or in debt or discontented gathered around him, and he became their commander. About four hundred men were with him.”
A rag-tag bunch of mercenaries, misfits, and malcontents who have no social standing becomes David’s merry band of followers hiding in the forest. Sound like anyone?
Meanwhile, the mad-king has the high-priest who gave David consecrated bread in yesterday’s chapter killed along with his entire family and the entire population of the town where they resided. One son of the High Priest, Abiathar, escapes to David in the forest to tell David what has happened.
What does David do?
He takes personal responsibility for the slaughter: “That day, when Doeg the Edomite was there, I knew he would be sure to tell Saul. I am responsible for the death of your whole family.”
He treats the young priest Abiathar with kindness, extends to him peace, and shows him loving hospitality: “Stay with me; don’t be afraid. The man who wants to kill you is trying to kill me too. You will be safe with me.”
Looks like Robin just got his Friar Tuck. 😉
Some people are thrust into leadership unprepared, like Saul. Without the requisite character qualities for learning quickly on the job, the position becomes a trap that brings out the worst in a person.
Some people become leaders through experience and trial, like David. All references to Robin and his merry band aside, David is not having fun. It is during this period of hiding that David wrote the lyrics to Psalm 142:
Listen to my cry, for I am in desperate need; rescue me from those who pursue me, for they are too strong for me. Set me free from my prison, that I may praise your name. Then the righteous will gather about me because of your goodness to me.
As I ponder these contrasting individuals, my underdog spirit whispers: “Forge me, Lord, into the person you want me to be. Amen.”
If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.
Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior. Habakkuk 3:17-18 (NIV)
Today’s final chapter of Habakkuk contains the lyrics to a psalm that Habakkuk wrote in response to his two-question dialogue with God in the first two chapters. Habakkuk is an ancient multi-media prophecy with two chapters that are almost like the script of a play and ending with a song.
Habakkuk has been warned by God that He is going to bring judgment on His unrepentant people by bringing the Babylonians down upon them. Habakkuk would have known what this meant. The Babylonians, along with their neighbors the Assyrians, had a reputation for violent sieges that destroyed and plundered cities while violently killing the citizens within. But God also promised Habakkuk that the Babylonians themselves would face their own day of judgment.
As I read and pondered the prophet’s lyrics in the quiet this morning, there were a couple of things that struck me.
First, I couldn’t help but see echoes of John’s Revelations in the apocalyptic, doomsday images. Plague and pestilence in verse 5 brought the four horsemen of John’s apocalypse to mind. Earthquakes, mountains crumbling, along with other natural calamities were also in Revelations along with God arriving with wrath. So was John writing about Judah and Babylon, or was he writing about the end times? As I’ve observed before, the metaphors of prophetic and apocalyptic writing are layered with meaning. As I have often observed on this chapter-a-day journey, the answer is “yes/and.”
The second thing that came to mind as I meditated on Habakkuk’s psalm is that he knows God is going to first bring wrath upon His own people and then will eventually execute judgment on the Babylonians. Habakkuk, however, is just like me knowing that the end times will eventually come yet not knowing when. He’s ignorant. His psalm reminds God “In your wrath [on your people] remember mercy” (vs.2) and he gives a nod to God eventually delivering His people (vs. 13) but the rest of the song seems pretty focused on the evil Babylonians getting their just desserts.
I found this to be particularly human on Habakkuk’s part. He knows God is going to bring consequential wrath on the Hebrew people, but Habakkuk doesn’t want to think too much about that. He conveniently skips that part and jumps to God’s deliverance while he waxes apocalyptic about God’s wrath on the Babylonians for most of the song. I have to confess that I’m no different. I don’t want to think about suffering or having to endure hard times or experiencing judgment. I do, however, want to see swift judgment and fiery wrath raining down on those I have judged to be evil on my own personal scales of justice. As I’ve seen oft-quoted in the media of late: “Rules for thee but not for me.”
Yet it’s the end of Habakkuk’s song that, just like the psalmists before him, brings everything together in a pretty amazing statement of faith. He does embrace the notion that he may personally suffer as God makes good on His promised judgment. It’s the beautiful statement of faith I pasted at the top of this post
Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior.
In the quiet this morning, I confess that I identify with these ancient words. We are living in strange times. Things are changing at a rapid pace. Times are difficult and I have no guarantees that even more difficult times aren’t ahead of us on this terrestrial ball…
yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior.
If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.
So they impaled Haman on the pole he had set up for Mordecai. Esther 7:10 (NIV)
I once had a person who told me they were angry with me. I had done something to offend, and the person confessed that they knew I had no idea what I had done to hurt them so deeply. I asked what I had done and sought to reconcile, but they chose to not to tell me. Sometime later, I made another appeal and asked the person to share with me what I had done. Again, they chose not to do so.
Two cannot be reconciled if one is unwilling to do so.
Along my life journey, I have encountered many individuals who hold on to their anger, their grudges, their hatred, and their judgments of others. Typically, I find that underneath it all lies a spiritual, relational, and/or emotional wound. The wound often remains carefully hidden beneath all the bitterness and rage. If the wound is not addressed the destructive emotions remain.
I have observed that anger, hatred, grudges, and vengeance are spiritually dangerous things. It has been said that harboring them is like drinking a cup of poison yourself and expecting that it will somehow kill your enemy.
In today’s chapter, the plot twist is downright Shakespearean. Haman’s plot to kill Mordecai and all of the Hebrews is uncovered. Ironically, Haman is impaled on the very pike he had erected for the impaling of his enemy, Mordecai. He allowed himself to drink from the poisonous cup of anger, resentment, bitterness, and rage for so long that he became its victim.
This morning I find myself praying for the person I mentioned at the beginning of this post, as I do whenever that person comes to mind. Perhaps someday the time will be right and they will be ready to talk things out. I hope so. I also find myself taking an internal inventory of my own wounds and examining my own levels of anger, resentment, bitterness and the like. I don’t want to harbor such things lest I find myself the victim of my own internal poison.
The word of the Lord came to me: “Son of man, set your face against the mountains of Israel; prophesy against them….” Ezekiel 6:1 (NIV)
At the time of Ezekiel’s prophetic messages (c. 590 B.C.), the nation of Israel had been split for over three centuries by civil war. Like the U.S. civil war, the nation had been divided north and south. Ezekiel came from the southern kingdom, called Judah because it was primarily made up of that particular tribe and Judah was the tribe from which King David had come. The southern kingdom followed the royal line of David and kept the capitol in Jerusalem.
The northern kingdom was called Israel and consisted of 10 of the other 12 Israeli tribes. Because the northern kingdom did not follow a particular royal lineage, the throne of Israel was continually up for grabs. The northern kingdom’s history is marked by political intrigue and bloody power struggles. Cut off from Solomon’s temple in Jerusalem, the northern kingdom had its religious center in the town of Bethel. Israel largely abandoned the religious law of Moses and generally worshipped the popular Canaanite gods of the day whose worship included sexual fertility rituals and, in some instances, child sacrifice.
In the previous chapters, Ezekiel’s prophecy has focused on God’s judgement on the southern kingdom of Judah and its capitol, Jerusalem. In today’s chapter, God’s message through Ezekiel takes an abrupt turn to the north. The earthly kingdoms may have been divided, but in God’s economy all 12 tribes of Israel were still His people. Just because Judah was going to face God’s judgement for their unfaithfulness did not mean Israel was going to escape His wrath.
There was an interesting parallel to the prophetic messages to both kingdoms. Amidst the messages of doom there was a measure of grace. A remnant would escape the judgement and be scattered, leaving hope of the nation’s ultimate survival.
Today, my mind is making parallels between God’s punishment of Israel and Judah, and the judgement I faced many times as a child. Like all children, I dreaded the judgement and wrath of my parents. The sting of corporal punishment and “time out” exile to my room was no joy to endure even when deserved. But amidst the punishment there was always a seed of grace. I was loved. Blessing and restoration would return with my repentance and obedience.
I saw in heaven another great and marvelous sign: seven angels with the seven last plagues—last, because with them God’s wrath is completed. Revelation 15:1 (NIV)
“Wait until your father gets home.”
Perhaps this phrase has lost some of its meaning over the years, but when I was a kid things were relatively simple and traditional. Dad got up early and left for work. You wouldn’t see him until just before supper. Mom was at home with us kids while we were growing up. She got us off to school and she was there when we got home.
Make no mistake, mom could mete out parental authority and necessary punishment with the best of them. She did, however, always carry a trump card which she reserved for those special occasions when a child’s offense crossed this vague, emotional maternal threshold:
“Wait until your father gets home.”
As a child, this was the worst thing you could hear. Sure, it was a stay of execution, but you knew in your gut that there would be no last minute pardon from the Governor. Dad, when he just got home from work, could be tired and grouchy. The last thing he wanted to deal with was unruly kids. His wrath would be swift and sure. A kid soon learned a harsh fact of life: If mom played the “Wait until your father gets home” card, you were screwed.
I have come to realize that there are threads of spiritual truth the permeate our every day lives and experiences in the most subtle of ways. Creation cannot help but echo the Creator. We carry in our hearts the capacity for both grace and wrath. I have come to find that most people consider love, grace and forgiveness as ideas we should fully embrace and celebrate until someone victimizes us or violates some threshold in our personal psyche. When that happens we want the trump card of judgment and wrath in our hip pocket. We want it to be swift and sure.
We often perceive God through the lens of where we find ourselves on the grace/wrath continuum. The further a person’s personal scale tips towards grace the more uncomfortable they tend to be with the concept of God punishing anyone for anything. Those whose personal scale tips towards wrath tend to see God as willing executioner to their own personal judgment and convictions. Folly is found in increasing measure the further we move towards either extreme.
I know that not everyone had the same experience I did, and our human fathers often affect our perceptions of God in negative ways. If that’s true of you, I beg your forgiveness. Please bear with me as I make this analogy. You see, as a child I experienced in my father both grace and wrath. I’ve come to realize that, motivated ultimately by love, both were proper and necessary in their context. There is an echo of eternity here. There is a time for grace, and a time for wrath. This morning I’m struck by the idea that Revelation is the spiritual form of “wait until your father gets home.” It’s not the end in this moment, but you better get yourself prepared. Dad will definitely be here at the end of the day. For disobedient children and their deeds, there’s going to be hell to pay.
English: The ark of Noah and the cosmic covenant / L’arche de Noé et l’alliance cosmique / 04 CATACOMBES NOE ET LA COLOMBE SAINTS PIERRE (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
“Do not harm the land or the sea or the trees until we put a seal on the foreheads of the servants of our God.”Revelation 7:3 (NIV)
I have been watching with interest the trailers for the movie Noah. It will be interesting to see what Hollywood is going to do with the story. If you remember, the story begins with God being fed up with the evil of man and deciding to wash the slate clean with a flood. After this act of divine judgment, God makes a covenant never again to wipeout all living creatures on the earth with a flood.
I have heard many people say that God revealed in the Old Testament and God revealed in the New Testament are different. They describe God in the Old Testament a God of judgment while God in the New Testament as a God of love and grace. After my multiple journeys through the whole of God’s Message, I must respectfully disagree. When I was a child I perceived my parents as largely persons of wrath and judgment, but as I matured I perceived the depths of love and grace that were beneath the wrath. I have come to believe that as God’s story is revealed over time and as civilization has matured, we are able to more fully comprehend the person of God as God revealed Himself through the law, then the prophets, then through the resurrected Jesus and God’s indwelling Holy Spirit.
While God revealed Himself as righteous judge in the Old Testament, He also revealed His grace through the salvation of Noah’s family and through covenants with Noah, Abraham, Israel, and David. Jesus, in His New Testament arrival and ministry, certainly revealed God’s loving heart and desire for all to choose salvation, but He also spoke often of the Day of Judgment, of death, and of hell. We can see in today’s chapter that God near the end of the story is still a God of judgment. Four angels given power to wreak destructive judgment on the earth are present and ready. They are held back, however, by God’s loving desire to seal and protect His servants on Earth.
Both grace and judgment are part of God’s nature. To choose to see one part without the other leads to misperception. Misperception can lead to all sorts of tragic places.
We work wearily with our own hands to earn our living. We bless those who curse us. We are patient with those who abuse us. We appeal gently when evil things are said about us. 1 Corinthians 4:12-13a (NLT)
I’ve been slowly working on a blog post about the life lessons I’ve taken away from J.K. Rowling‘s series of seven Harry Potter books. One of the lessons on my list comes from the character of Albus Dumbledore. In the books, Dumbledore is well-known as the only person that the evil antagonist, Lord Voldemort, fears. Harry Potter is continually reminded of what a great and powerful wizard Dumbledore is.
What is always fascinating to me with the stories is the way that Dumbledore, despite his legendary power and abilities, is always so meek and gracious even in the most conflictive situations with his enemies. It is well into the fourth book of the seven book series before Harry Potter witnesses even a hint of the potency that lay hidden behind Dumbledore’s perpetual smile and the kind eyes which peer out through half-moon spectacles.
As I’ve once more been making my way through the series of books and encountering the character of Dumbledore as he navigates tricky conflicts, a verse from King Solomon’s proverbs keeps popping into my mind: “A gentle answer turns away wrath.” (Proverbs 15:1)
The proverb popped in my head once more this morning as I read of Paul’s response to the adversity and conflict he continually faced as a follower of Jesus.
When people curse us ——> we bless them
When others abuse us ——> we are patient with them
When others say evil things about us ——> we appeal gently to them
As I watch the news and observe the culture around me, I see so much anger, hatred, and vitriol. We demand our way, belittle those those who disagree with us, and judge others harshly. Lately, God has been quietly reminding me of Solomon’s proverb, of Dumbledore, of Paul, and Jesus most of all. I don’t want to be a person who reacts to insult and injury with wrath and harsh words, but a person who responds in patience, and gentle kindness.
The verdict of God-of-the-Angel-Armies on all this: “Because you have refused to listen to what I’ve said, I’m stepping in. Jeremiah 25:8 (MSG)
My experience: Whenever a person of authority has had to “step in” because those under his or her authority has not done what they are supposed to do, it’s not a good thing.
When mom or dad “step in” because their child refused to do what he was told. [not that I would know anything about that]
When a teacher “steps in” because the class willingly refused to follow directions.
When a coach “steps in” because the team did not follow his or her clear instructions.
When a boss “steps in” because the employee(s) refused to do what was expected.
It’s never a pretty picture when the authorities “step in.” All the more reason to take it seriously when it’s God who’s threatening to step in.
Creative Commons photo courtesy of Flickr and 1uk3
"Watch now. God's Judgment Day comes. Cruel it is, a day of wrath and anger…." Isaiah 13:9a (MSG)
There are two sides to love. There is the soft side of love with warm-fuzzies, hugs, grace, and random acts of kindness. There is also a hard side of love. The hard side of love stands up for what is right, sets clear and appropriate boundaries, and ensures that justice is appropriately carried out. The hard side of love is hard because it requires tremendous strength of character to wield it, and because it appears harmful to the ignorant, casual observer. A doctor will, lovingly, injure his patient to ensure future health and wholeness. The hard side of love seems terrible, unjust, and unfair in the moment while it is utterly necessary in the context of the whole.
Let's face it. We like the idea of a safe God. Give us a God of stained-glass and angelic choruses. We like a God with babies in his arms or a gentle lamb draped over his shoulders. But the God who gathered the innocent child into his arms is the same God who made a whip and went on a violent rampage through the temple. The shepherd who gently carries the wayward sheep home must also be ruthless in killing the lion and the bear who would prey upon his flock.
A father who cares for his children must dispense both praise and punishment appropriately, and with great wisdom. Our Heavenly Father, a God of love, must also by definition be a God of judgement. Love without justice is not true love.
Wayfarer 