Arts, Christianity, Culture

The Book of Judges: The time when God’s record got stuck?

JUDGES

A synopsis of the Old Testament Book of Judges

FOR MODERN DAY readers the Book of Judges probably presents more problems than by any other biblical writing. Readers vaguely aware of Deborah’s maternal leadership, Gideon’s timidity and heroics, and Samson’s tragic affair with Delilah which left him “eyeless in Gaza” are likely to be shocked by crude and grisly events, revenge, and general licence.

The author, who is working like a senior editor on Time magazine, compiling a selective essay from several reports, answers the ethical questions with one sentence: “In those days Israel had no king; everyone did as he saw fit.” It was anarchy, so what sort of behaviour would you expect?

Carefully constructed, the thesis is summarised in chapter 2. This is the only biblical book to speak of a “cycle of history”. Normally the Bible regards history as a continuous line from creation to heaven. But here, as poet Steve Turner has aptly put it:

History repeats itself.

Has to.

Nobody listens.

Judges reads as if God’s record has become stuck. But in fact, it is God’s people who are stuck in a cycle of faith degenerating into indulgence, followed by crisis which prompts repentance. We’ve all done it, although maybe not quite so brazenly.

And the glory of Judges is that God doesn’t give up on his people. He does rescue them, eventually. He keeps his covenant even though they break theirs. It’s not savoury reading, but it is certainly salutary. Our sins may be different to those of the time of Judges, but they are no less real. Christians today can sacrifice to the three related idols of greed, envy and avarice at the alter of consumerism without even realising they are doing it. Maybe there’s a message for us here, too.

Primarily, the Book of Judges shows how the tribes of Israel compromised their faith which brought about their own suffering. It tells of twelve leaders (judges) called by God to rescue them from oppression. Judges describes the raw nature of life and warfare in a society where anarchy was rife throughout various parts of Palestine. Assuming the Exodus was 1275 BC, events recorded in the Book of Judges are believed to be between 1200–1000 BC. The story leads to the account of Samuel, the last judge who held Israel together until King Saul.

For today, however, there is a clear message. We shouldn’t give up when God’s work isn’t completed. We should be aware of our own vulnerabilities, too, realising that doubt is not a sin – we should deal gently with those who have it.  And there’s a warning when it’s everyone for themselves and not to get carried away by size and numbers.


There’s danger in numbers

A narrative on Judges 7 –

IF the news had leaked out that General Gideon was planning a night raid on tens of thousands with just 300 men, armed with trumpets and candles, he would have been immediately relieved of his duties, certified insane and relegated to the annals of military incompetence along with the leader of the charge of the Light Brigade.

There are two “spiritual” applications of this familiar story. God can use a small minority to achieve great things, so the church should not complain about its relative proportion in society. Also, he may use strange tactics that only real faith can cope with.

Every age has worshipped numbers. Big is beautiful and mega churches are rated highly while mini churches are reckoned to be spiritual failures. They shouldn’t be overlooked by church authorities who see only balance sheets and not the godly faithfulness for which God never guarantees “success”.

We also pin our hopes on methods. It used to be the “Four spiritual laws” as an infallible guide to leading people to Christ. Previously it was Alpha courses. Soon, it will likely be something else. God hates being pinned down; so, the really-visionary will be looking already for God’s surprise tactics. And woe to those who package them as a method.

Yet, these are probably secondary considerations to the author’s main message for the Israelites. He is anxious that they do not fall into national pride (v 2). “We’ve done this!” they would cry, and God would be lucky to even get a mention. He does not share his glory with another, and we bask in his reflected glory at our peril. It can lead to a very damaged soul if we even try.

We also see an alternative way of waging war. The story hints that there is a better way of national life, under God, than bloodletting. Inducing panic was the tactic here, followed, of course, by a lot of bloodletting. It took many centuries before people were ready to hear Jesus’ message that there was a kingdom greater than the nation, and a weapon better than the sword.  

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Arts, Christianity, Culture

The Book of Jonah. Is it a whale of a tale?

THE BOOK OF JONAH

Jonah – a narrative

JONAH is the fifth of the minor prophets at the end of the Old Testament.

Jonah is mentioned in 2 Kings 14:25 as a prophet working during the reign of King Jeroboam II of Israel the northern kingdom, c. 793-753BC. He foretold the extension of Israel’s borders during this time of relative prosperity when the Assyrian threat was reduced. However, the book is anonymous and claims only to be about him and not by him.

The real question raised by Jonah is not did he get swallowed by a big fish (the Bible uses a different word than “whale”), but what sort of book is it meant to be? Is it history, theology, a parable, a moral tale for children, satire or a combination of these?

There are secondary points too. Firstly, the book is not about Israel (or Judah) but about Assyria (of which Nineveh was the capital at one time) and no reference is made to “God’s people”. Secondly, Nineveh was never as big as Jonah claims in 3:3 (unless he means a wider administrative district outside the city wall). And thirdly, there is no other evidence for this incident. Certainly, God’s initial prediction was not then fulfilled; Nineveh did not fall at this time although it did later. But the story shows that the prediction of doom had assumed impenitence, and Nineveh’s humbling brought a stay of execution.

In favour of the book’s historicity, we should note that Jesus quoted Jonah as a parallel to his own resurrection (Matthew 12:39,40; Luke 11:30,32). This could imply that Jesus accepted the historical reality of Jonah, but even if he did his allusion is still primarily to Jonah as a figurative “type”.

To focus too closely on the historical likelihood of events (which can never be either verified or discounted) can distract today’s reader from the timeless message of this small but important book. Christians will assume it has a historical basis and note that the references to the fish (which cause most problems) are slight and incidental.

The author says little of the method of rescue but a lot about the fact of rescue. It will help to focus on what the book intended to say to its original readers and what God can say through it to us now.

For today, the Book of Jonah is clear on several points. For example, we should be willing to do hard things God asks of us. And we should also remember that God cares for the world, and not just for the Church. No one should be surprised if God’s plans differ from our own.

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Arts, Christianity, Culture

Have faith, will travel

ENDURING FAITH

Hebrews 11 – a narrative

“I have no use for adventures,” declared Bilbo Baggins in J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit. “Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner!”

Abraham and the other biblical heroes whose stories are recalled here in Hebrews 11 would not have agreed. Faith to them was an adventure. Indeed, Abraham didn’t even know where he was heading when he set out (v 8).

The faith which is applauded here is not “saving faith”, the initial trust in God for forgiveness and eternal life, but applied faith. If we are committed to God, then we are to go with him, wherever that takes us, knowing God has promised long-term blessings to those who continue to obey and endure.

The Bible suggests that “saving faith” without such “applied faith” is a contradiction in terms. You can have neither without the other. If we are saved, we shall be motivated to serve; if we want to serve, we must first be saved.

The people we meet in Hebrews 11 trusted God to provide for their needs, lead them, protect them, and overcome obstacles; they sacrificed in faith that God’s purposes were greater, and his promises, sure. They weren’t perfect: drunken Noah, cheating Jacob, immoral Rahab, mixed-up Samson and adulterer David. Yet each set us an example of faith going places with God.

We can begin to exercise faith in small ways in our daily life, just as they did. The big tests come later. We must ensure we “walk the walk”; as Bilbo discovered, it’s better than staying at home.

Faith involves risk. There is the risk that we might be proved wrong. We could mishear God, mistake his call, misapply his truth, misappropriate his promises. We could even mislead others.

Running through this chapter is a testimony to the biggest risk of all: that we will never see our faith justified. Twice the author says that they “did not receive the things promised” (vv 13, 39). They were not wrong, but they never lived to see the fulfilment of their faith-dreams.

Indeed, much of life, is building for a future which we will never see. Our calling is to be faithful to what God has revealed, to live as if he is fulfilling his purposes even when we can’t see them, and to remember that we are but a small part of his very big enterprise.

In an age of impatience, the real risk of faith is not to our well-being but to our pride; we want to be proved right. All that these saints were bothered about was proving God right for posterity. It took the stress out of waiting, because they knew God would sort things out in his own time.

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