Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Benjamin: The son of sorrow and glory

Jacob noticed a sudden increase of activity about the birthing tent. More women were appearing. Everyone seemed to be moving more quickly, with more urgency. Something was wrong!

Jacob barged into the tent. Rachel was still on the birthing stool, surrounded by the midwives. One was supporting her from behind, stroking her head, whispering comfort into her ear. She was pale and seemed barely conscious. There seemed to be more blood than in the past.

The midwife by Rachel's feet tried to encourage her. “The baby's head is emerging.” Rachel groaned, her faced clenched. She pushed. Twice more she pushed and groaned and bled. “It's a boy! You have another boy”, the midwife shouted.

Rachel almost collapsed onto the floor. The midwife at her back barely kept her from toppling over to the side. A bed appeared and they quickly transferred her onto it . A servant carried the newborn to his mother, and leaned down low so that Rachel might see her son. Rachel ran her fingertip across his little brow. When Rachel tried to speak, the servant leaned in even lower so that she might hear.

The woman rose from Rachel's side and came to present the baby to his father. “My mistress,” the woman said, “has named the child Ben-Oni.” Jacob looked at his son. “I shall call him Ben-Jamin,” he said.

With her dying breath, Rachel named her child. She called him Ben-Oni which means “Son of my Sorrow.” But the boy's time as Ben-Oni was a brief one, for his father gave him another name. Jacob called him Ben-Jamin, or “Son of the right hand.” It was the father's name that he carried throughout the rest of his days.

The book of Isaiah speaks prophetically of the Messiah as “A Man of Sorrows.” We see this prophecy fulfilled throughout Jesus' life as He weeps at the grave of Lazarus, as he weeps over Jerusalem. He even tells his disciples in the Garden of Gethsemane, “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death.”

But that time of suffering and sorrow was brief. It has past. The work of Calvary has been completed. Over and over, the New Testament tells us that Jesus is ascended. That He has been given a place of honor and glory. That the Son is seated at the right hand of the Father.

(Genesis 35)

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Joseph: The innocent prisoner

They made a particularly glum pair this morning, the butcher and the baker. “Why do you look so sad,” Joseph asked. “We've both had strange dreams,” came the reply, “but we have no one to interpret them for us.”

Joseph thought for a moment. “Don't all interpretations belong to God? Tell me your dreams.”

The baker went first. “Mine was really weird. I was standing in front of a vine with three big branches. Suddenly, the branches started to bud and the buds turned to grapes and soon the branches were heavy with these huge clusters of ripe grapes! I looked down at my right hand, and I was holding Pharaoh's cup. I watched my hands reach out to squeeze the grapes and catch the juice with the cup. Then I turned and there was Pharaoh seated next to me on his throne. I placed the cup into his hand... and that's all I remember.”

“Here is the interpretation,” Joseph began. “The three branches represent three days. Within three days Pharaoh will bring you up out of this prison and return you to your former position. You will again put the cup into his hand, as you had in the past.”

“When you are returned to the king,” Joseph said, “Remember me.”

Pharaoh's butcher and baker were sent to prison for offending the king. The exact nature of their crimes is not recorded for us but, whatever their crimes, it appears that they were both facing execution. The morning after their bizarre nocturnal visions, they sit together with Joseph as God reveals to him the interpretation of their dreams.

The baker's dream foretold that within three days he would die. The butler's dream showed that he would be delivered from prison, returned to his post and to favor with the king. Joseph pleads with him to remember him, to bring his case before Pharaoh, and to seek his deliverance from prison. Although the dream comes to pass and the King frees the butler three days later, it is two full years before he recalls his promise to Joseph.

The scene in Genesis 40 is an innocent man and two condemned criminals. We see a similar scene at Calvary: the innocent Jesus hanging between two thieves. When one begins to curse and blaspheme Jesus, the other confronts him. He rebukes the man, confesses his own guilt, and then pleads with Jesus for mercy. “Lord, remember me when you come into your Kingdom,” he cries. There will be no delays, no forgotten promises. “Today”, Jesus declares, “you will be with me in Paradise.”

(Genesis 40, Luke 23)

Sunday, April 15, 2012

David: The uncrowned king

“Strike him,” Abishai whispered into his ear.

David stiffened and quickly scanned the sleeping soldiers that surrounded them. No one stirred. He listened a few seconds more and then slowly exhaled.

He glanced down at the man who had been pursuing him, forcing him to live in caves, ever on the run. He simply lay there sleeping. David wondered at the last time he had seen Saul looking so peaceful.

Abishai pulled up Saul's spear from where it had been stuck into the ground. He rolled the shaft back and forth in his palms a few times as he eyed the sleeping king. He leaned into David's ear again. This time he whispered, “Look! God has delivered your enemy into your hand.” Gripping the spear and pointing the tip downwards, he continued, “Give me your leave, and I will pin his head to the earth!”

It could be all over. He would finally be king. “No,” David said, “bring his spear and that water jug by his head.” Then the two men crept silently out of the camp.

King Saul twice finds himself unknowingly at David's mercy. While pursuing David through the mountains, Saul one day retreats into a cave to relieve himself. Hidden deeper in the cave are David and his army. The men encourage David to seize the opportunity to strike Saul dead, but David will only cut off the corner of his garment. Then some time later, David and Abishai sneak into the camp of Israel. As they stand over the sleeping king, Abishai offers to strike Saul dead. Instead David is content to steal the water jar and spear that were lying by Saul's head.

David had been forced to live and hide in the wilderness because Saul saw him as an enemy and a threat. Yet, all that time, he was God's anointed. He knew that God would one day make him king. So when these two opportunities arose, those around him tempted David by saying, “Look! God has given you your enemy! All you have been promised will finally be yours!” But David would not kill Saul. He knew that there were no shortcuts to the throne.

The Bible records for us that Jesus, after his baptism by John, retreated alone into the desert. There he fasted for forty days before being tempted by Satan. The Devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and said, “All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me!” No suffering! No humiliation! No cross!

But Jesus would not take short cuts. Just as David suffered before finally being raised up to the throne, Jesus too had to follow the path laid out for him by his Father. Writing to the Philippians, Paul says, “He humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee shall bow.” And one day we shall.

(1 Samuel 26; Philippians 2)

Sunday, April 1, 2012

The Jordan: The river of rebirth

The servant cleared his throat. More loudly this time. “WHAT?”, Naaman snapped.

The day had not been going well. When they had arrived at the palace of the king of Israel, Naaman had been welcomed according to protocol, as befitting someone of his rank and accomplishments. The letter from the king of Syria was then presented to the Israelite servants to be taken to their king. But the king's response had been slow. Insultingly so.

When the servants finally returned, they looked somewhat fearful. Perhaps it was the leprosy. The servants explained that the king would not cure Namaan's leprosy and that he would have to consult with a prophet named Elisha. They were given directions and shown the door. Naaman, seething, returned to his chariot. Not a word was spoken until they arrived at Elisha's door.

This time, a single servant had emerged from the house with a message for Naaman. “Go wash in the Jordan river seven times and you will be clean,” he said and then he returned into the house.

That had done it. Naaman was furious. “Why wouldn't the prophet come out and pray over me and heal me himself? He wouldn't even speak with me directly! And why the Jordan river? It's barely a river, more of a muddy stream! There are much better rivers in Syria!” Naaman's anger had not abated, even as they continued on their return home.

The servant chose his words carefully. “My Father, if the prophet had asked something difficult of you, would you have not done it? Why then would you not be willing to obey when you were simply instructed `Go wash and be clean?'”

Naaman looked at the servant for a few silent moments. Then he ordered that the chariot be turned around.

When they arrived at the Jordan, Naaman descended from his chariot. He removed his sword. He removed his armor. Finally he removed his garments and handed them to the servant. As he stood there naked, the servants could clearly see the ravages that the leprosy had already taken on his body. Naaman descended the muddy bank, wadded out into the water and immersed himself. Once. Twice. Three times. Four times. Five times. Six times. Seven times.

When Naaman came up after the seventh washing, the servants all gasped. The leprosy was gone! The damage to his body had been undone. Even all the scars Naaman had acquired from years of fighting had disappeared. Naaman was shaking with joy as the servant helped him dress, and as his fingers brushed Naaman's body he could feel that his skin was as smooth and as perfect as a newborn's.

Nicodemus the Pharisee came to speak with Jesus one night. The conversation did not go at all as he had anticipated. At one point Jesus said to him, “You must be born again” which left Nicodemus was very confused. Was Jesus was suggesting that he had to return to his mother's womb and be born again physically?

Naaman the leper experienced something as close to physical rebirth as is recorded for us in the Bible. The account makes it very clear to us that his skin was not just healed, but regenerated. But first he had to humble himself, go to the river, expose himself, and obey.

Jesus explained to Nicodemus that is wasn't physical, but spiritual rebirth that was needed. The scars and ravages of sin cannot be covered up, they must be undone. Like Naaman's physical healing, salvation requires humility, exposure and obedience. The source of the healing is despised, like the muddy Jordan river, but when we come and believe we are baptised into Christ. We are reborn and remade. As Jesus said, “Behold, I make all things new.”

(2 Kings 5; John 3)

Thursday, March 15, 2012

Ishmael: The son who was heard

Hagar wept.
If only she had told him to be more careful, she thought. To watch his tongue. Maybe if she had been able to make him behave, then none of this wouldn't have happened. But when she had heard his voice carrying over the din of the celebration, she knew there would be trouble.
They had been sent away. Armed with just some bread and a skin of water, they had been rejected and cast out into the wilderness. The angel had told her the first time she had run away, when she was pregnant with Ishmael, that she would have a son and that everyone's hand would be against him. She didn't realize those hands would include his own father's.
If only she had been more careful with the water. There hadn't been much. But he had been so thirsty and it had been hard to deny him. Then when the water had run out, and he could no longer keep walking, she had laid him beneath the bushes. She had moved away, to keep vigil. There she prayed and she wept.
Then for the second time in her life, an angel of God spoke to her: “What is the matter Hagar? Do not fear. God has heard the voice of the lad. Arise, take him by the hand. I will make him into a great nation!”
Then God opened her eyes and she saw a well. She ran, filled her skin with water, ran to her son, and put the skin to his lips.
Ishmael drank. And Hagar wept.
Abraham had two sons. In back-to-back chapters the two boys both face death by the action of their father. In each case, God intervenes. An angel speaks and the boys are miraculously saved. Yet despite the similarities, there is a fundamental difference to the two accounts. Isaac's story is told from the father's perspective, Ishmael's from the mother's.
What is interesting about Ishmael's account is that, twice in one verse, we are told that God heard the cries of the lad. It is not Hagar's weeping and prayers that brings deliverance. Instead, God hears the voice of her son and responds. Deliverance is provided. Mercy is shown. Hagar sees a well and the son is saved.
At Calvary, we see Mary standing by and weeping for her Son. He has been rejected and cast out, and now He hangs there before her on a cross. Twice God had spoken to Him with a voice from heaven. He had first declared, “This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” The second time He responded to Christ's prayer to glorify His name by saying, “I have both glorified it, and will glorify it again.”
But at the cross, there would be no deliverance. God would not show His own beloved Son the mercy which He had shown to Ishmael. While He suffered, and while Mary wept, Jesus cried out: “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me.” And heaven was silent.
(Genesis 21:8–21)

Thursday, March 1, 2012

Paul: The reconciler

It would all depend on the contents of the letter. By law, he knew he was as good as dead; the Roman empire had absolutely zero-tolerance for rebellious slaves. But he had returned anyway. With the letter. The letter he was watching Philemon read.

It was the right thing to do. Not that it had made the journey any easier. But he had to face his master and confess that he had sinned. He had run away. He had stolen. He was deserving of death.

Paul was responsible for this trip. And for the letter. Of course, he had been terrified when Paul had recognized him. The last thing a slave on the run wants to see is a familiar face. But he had been so kind. It was Paul that had introduced him to Jesus. But even as he had helped and served Paul, he knew there was a reckoning that awaited him. When Paul had suggested that he needed to return, he knew he must go.

Another slave had greeted him when he had arrived at the door. It was a familiar face, but he couldn't quite make out the expression. Was it fear? Was it contempt? Sympathy?

He looked at the letter in Philemon's hands. What did it say? He had traveled with it for so many days, but he had no idea what it contained. What could Paul possibly write that would deliver him?

Philemon placed the letter on the table and walked towards him. He stopped. Looked Onesimus in the eyes. Then he embraced him and kissed him on the cheek. “Welcome, brother,” he said.

The story of Philemon is a love triangle, of sorts. The book of Philemon deals with the complicated inter-relationships of three individuals. First, there is Philemon himself, a wealthy Christian living in Colossae and the recipient of Paul's letter. Philemon had a slave named Onesimus, the second vertex of the triangle, who has run away and probably stolen from his master. These acts of rebellion have put Onesimus under the penalty of death. Understandably, these are not conditions conducive to a healthy relationship.

Paul, by contrast, has an excellent relationship with both of these men. It would seem that Paul encountered Onesimus while he was on the lam and lead him to the Lord. Since that time, Onesimus has been helping Paul while he was imprisoned. We can speculate from his letter that Paul may have also lead Philemon to the Lord years earlier. Certainly, Paul writes of a strong and warm friendship with him.

Paul recognizes that these two alienated parties must be reconciled, so he sends Onesimus back to his former master armed with a letter. In it, Paul intercedes for Onesimus based on Philemon's love for Paul. He writes “Receive him as you would received me.” But Paul goes even further and offers to settle any outstanding debts, “If he was wronged you at all, or owes you anything, charge that to my account. I, Paul, write this with my own hand: I will repay it.”

The Epistle to Philemon reflects the greater story of the Bible, which also deals with three parties. We are Onesimus. We have wronged and run from God. Since the Bible teaches that our sin makes us deserving of death, we dare not return to Him on our own. Thankfully, we have a “mediator between God and men, the Man Christ Jesus” to restore the relationship we've broken. We can return in safety because Jesus tells the Father, “Put his sin on my account. Receive him as you would receive me.”

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Isaac: The unseen groom

It was hard to believe that she was almost there. They had been traveling for days: out of Mesopotamia, through the desert, and now into the beautiful land of Canaan. Her new home. The servant had assured her that Isaac's camp was just a few hours further. Her long journey was almost complete. She was thankful to the camels for carrying her such a distance, but she would be glad to do her own walking for a little while.

“Just a few more hours until I meet the man I love,” she said to herself. She smiled at the thought. Love. She wouldn't have thought it possible, but it was true. Before the servant had appeared at the well those many days ago, she had never even heard of Isaac. But the servant had spoken so well of him —of his miraculous birth, of his deliverance by God, of his great wealth and inheritance— that she had been willing to return with him and become Isaac's bride. The long hours of her journey were spent questioning the servant further, to learn even more of Isaac, and his every answer had confirmed her decision. How could she feel so strongly about a man she had never met? At times, she had also made the servant repeat the story of how his prayer to God had been answered and he had been led right to her. She had the camels to thank for that too.

Finally, she saw a figure off in the distance. He rose and began walking towards them. “Who is that man coming to meet us?”, she asked the servant as she descended from her camel. He replied, “That is my Master.” She took a moment to smooth out the garment she was wearing, a gift from the man walking towards her. Then she took a deep breath, and placed her veil over her face. And waited.

After the events with his father on the top of Mount Moriah, Isaac disappears temporarily from the Genesis narrative. He reappears to take Rachel as his wife. She is the bride whom Abraham had requested, the one his chief servant had sought and found and convinced to return with him.

In the New Testament, the church is often pictured as a bride. Like Rebekah, this bride had been found by the Holy Spirit. Like Rebekah, she has been presented with blessings and gifts. And like Rebekah, the Church is longing for a groom as yet unseen.

“To you who believe, He is precious, whom having not seen we love,” the old chorus says. Soon the long journey will be over. Soon the marriage feast will begin. But until that day, we wait.

(Genesis 24; 1 Peter 1:6–9)