praying to God as friend and foe (& everything in between)?

I just read Job 19 for my morning devotions.

It’s a profound combination of doubt and faith. In the same chapter, Job accuses God and expresses profound hope in his Redeemer. It’s astounding.

Check out the stark protests against the Almighty…

He has blocked my way so I cannot pass;
    he has shrouded my paths in darkness.
He has stripped me of my honor
    and removed the crown from my head.
10 He tears me down on every side till I am gone;
    he uproots my hope like a tree.
11 His anger burns against me;
    he counts me among his enemies.
12 His troops advance in force;
    they build a siege ramp against me
    and encamp around my tent.

And contrast this with the profound hope – dare I say Resurrection hope! – later in the chapter…

25 I know that my redeemer lives,
    and that in the end he will stand on the earth.
26 And after my skin has been destroyed,
    yet in my flesh I will see God;

This is a breathtaking combination. Even putting to one side the questions of how specific terms from v25-26 are to be translated… however they should be translated they speak of seeing God after the flesh, skin or body has been destroyed. Seeing God “with my own eyes—I, and not another.” (v.27)

I wish I had a faith as resilient and honest as Job’s. I feel very disrespectful accusing God. But maybe this language is there in Scripture for us all to express all of life, toxic, tragic, triumphant and technical, to our Father.

Maybe we are given resources in Scripture to pray to God, no matter how we may feel he is relating to us. With the tender intimacy of ‘Abba’ Father, or the relentless punishing violence of a cold-hearted enemy. Or any of the options in between these extremes. He may feel like a mother or a mercenary. Defense attorney or prosecuting attorney. The judge or indeed… the one taking the punishment of the guilty.

from the bondage of self

When an alcoholic is working the 12 steps using the guidance of the ‘Big Book’ of Alcoholics Anonymous, I am told that it is traditional to pray the “Third Step Prayer” found in Chapter 5 ‘How It Works’. Here is the full prayer:

“God, I offer myself to Thee—to build with me and to do with me as Thou wilt. Relieve me of the bondage of self, that I may better do Thy will. Take away my difficulties, that victory over them may bear witness to those I would help of Thy Power, Thy Love, and Thy Way of life. May I do Thy will always!’’

There is clearly much to appreciate about this prayer, but in this blog I want to do two things. First, I want to zero in on the significance of one line “Relieve me of the bondage of self”; and Second, I want to use the Lord’s Prayer to demonstrate how it is a prayer that asks the same thing.

The Self

The AA Big Book has a lot to say about an addictive focus on ‘self’. Selfishness-self-centeredness! That, we think, is the root of our troubles. Driven by a hundred forms of fear, self-delusion, self-seeking, and self-pity, we step on the toes of our fellows…” (bold and italics not in original) It says “the alcoholic is an example of self-will run riot.” In one of the appendices, there is a quote from Dr. W. W. Bauer, who observes that helping other fellow alcoholics creates an atmosphere in which “the alcoholic often overcomes his excessive concentration upon himself.”

Modern psychologists may sometimes take issue with what could seem like a negative view of the self in such language. But if we are read these quotes as intended, we can see that it is not the self, as such, that is being critiqued, but the ‘excessive’ focus upon self. ‘Self’ is not the problem, but selfishness. The AA Big Book wants the alcoholic to see that even when trying to be ‘good’ their self-will is at play. Such is the description of the ‘actor’ trying to ‘run the whole show’: “Is he not really a self-seeker even when trying to be kind?”

This wisdom about a counter-productive self-focus is behind one of my favourite lines in the prayer: “Relieve me of the bondage of self.” Through the spiritual programme of action outline in the 12-steps, the alcoholic or addict is guided through a process by which their excessive focus on themselves is relieved by the aid of a Power greater than (who?) themselves.

The Lord’s Prayer

I’d now like to translate this wisdom into Christian key. Of course, it is well known that the Christian faith was the spiritual garden out of which the principles of AA were harvested. Frank Buchman, the Lutheran minister, had his transformational experience with resentment, which led to him establishing the ‘First Century Christian Fellowship’ later known as the ‘Oxford Group’, whose 6 principles were expanded into 12 steps by Bill Wilson and the early AA fellowship.

So, although, it is not needed to re-translate any of this back into Christian faith, it might at least be interesting or useful to show how the Lord’s Prayer relates to this line from the Third Step prayer (indeed the entire prayer!); particularly given that the early AA groups used to open or close their meetings with the Lord’s Prayer (and some still do).

  • Our Father in heaven, hallowed be Thy name.
    • Right from the start, my focus on self is violently interrupted by shifting and lifting my spiritual gaze off of my self and onto another. Not just any ‘other’, but the ultimate Other. Consider how the same shift can at least be somewhat attempted in the practice of someone who does not believe in any traditional Monotheistic God. Take a practitioner of yoga (which I am neither criticizing nor commending here). Through their practice of breathing, exercise, community and spiritual worldview, they also shift their focus from their individual self onto their body, the others they might be exercising with, and indeed the Universe. Stresses and difficult mental states are at least temporarily put aside as one focuses on higher and wider things than their self. Monotheism simply takes this as far as the logic can lead – to an ultimate Other, the un-caused Cause behind all causality, the One Creator of all things.
  • Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
    • In contrast to the self-will that wants to run the whole show of life, and aggressively or passive-aggressively trying to get others to do what we think they ought to do, this part of the prayer acknowledges that there are higher laws and higher wills and a higher order of things than mine. I do not need to, and indeed I cannot live well if I persist in trying to, play God. Even the agnostic can at least sense a comparable shift when they acknowledge the vast order of natural law in the Universe. We are but a small part in the whole. Monotheism simply recognises that this higher order is not the an order characterised by ‘blind, pitiless, indifference’ as Richard Dawkins famously wrote, but rather by a purposeful, creational and ‘kingly’ or royal will.
  • Give us this day our daily bread
    • One of the basic fears that a fragile self can have is around the fear of financial insecurity. We fear not being able to secure means for ourselves, and for those who may depend on us. Food security experts talk about the difference between a ‘scarcity’ or ‘abundance’ mindset. One can base their positive affirmation of abundance on factual appreciations of the wealth of resources available to us. This prayer just rests this confidence on the ground of a generous God.
  • And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.
    • One of the most profound contributions of the AA Big Book is the focus on cleaning one’s own side of the street. We have many resentments against the wrongs others have done. Sometimes these resentments are essentially justified and we have truly been harmed. However, the wisdom here, is that even an innocent victim can get stuck in justified resentment. As the saying goes, “holding onto resentment is like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies.” I cannot change the other person who hurt me (in my case, as a young child). I can only focus on changing myself, particularly the ways that I nourish my sense of victimhood and keep the fires of resentment enflamed. Forgiveness, in this context, has nothing to do with absolving or excusing or minimising the harm done to me; nor should it keep me from taking any appropriate action to protect myself or others from present or future harm. It is simply ‘giving’ them up out of my death grip of judgment. The wisdom here is very challenging, because never does the self feel more righteous than when criticizing another for legitimate harms done (think of Israel or Hamas). Whatever forgiveness may do for the one who is forgiven, it is undeniably transformative for the one doing the forgiving.
  • And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the Evil One.
    • Here the prayer follows on directly from the previous line. Unforgiving and merciless criticism of another person, and most of all the victim mentality too often leads to various forms of verbal, physical or military retaliation or vengeance. For others, it could lead to various forms of escapism as we feel entitled to a mental or moral holiday. We’ve been harmed, mis-represented, ignored, abandoned, so “Screw ‘them’; they have it coming.” Or “Screw ‘it’, I’m going to numb out…” with food, work, sex, drink or self-harm. Such escalations or self-harm are named here as temptations driven by a force that is malevolent, destructive, anti-creational, counter-productive, distorting, enslaving and thus ‘Evil’.
  • For Thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, forever and ever, Amen.
    • My life, my future, my past and present; and the history and activities in the whole world, are all subsumed within a higher order that will be ‘just fine’. This is not the well-meaning distant dualism of hoping that ‘God is watching us… from a distance.’ It is the dogged, insistent hope in the reality of a loving Father who can sort out the baddies ‘out there’, and who is constantly and compassionately available to help me with my fearful and vulnerable badness ‘in here’. God is the one who provides, rules, understands, judges and heals. I need that every day.

So then,
Father of all Creation,
today and every day,
relieve me of the bondage of self.
Make me a vessel of reconciling love
to some of your children today.
Amen.

refuel, release, reconnect, relax

I was thinking about the acronym H.A.L.T. (Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired) today.

This is an acronym that use used and cited frequently in contexts that are about life-improvement. Mentoring, coaching, supervision, and counselling. The idea seems to be that being unaware of how I’m feeling sets me up for various kinds of unhealthy life patterns. For example: if I find myself particularly triggered by something someone said to me, it may be related to me motoring on through the day not realising that I forgot to have lunch Or if I’m not particularly motivated around my work today, I may be lacking connection with other humans.

It should be obvious that it is a good thing to recognise and respond accordingly when I am any combination of Hungry, Angry, Lonely or Tired. There is everything right and nothing wrong with this acronym.

But I tend to use it in as a reactive diagnosis.

It’s all well and good to be able to reactively diagnose my behaviour in the past-tense by linking it to my unawareness in the past-tense of how I was feeling. What I really need are habits of being that keep me from getting into these states of unaware un-wellness. I want and need to be spiritually proactive rather than cleverly reactive.

How do I have a way of life (or a ‘rule of life’) that will guard against me being Hungry, Angry, Lonely or Tired?

I can practice the fulfilling opposites of those dysfunctional states. I can develop and maintain:
1) a regular pattern of eating,
2) an ongoing practice of processing and letting go of anger,
3) a frequent custom of social interaction,
and 4) a dogged commitment to times of rest.

I can learn, on a continual basis, to:
Refuel my tank (and not get Hungry),
Release others from my wrath (and not grow Angry),
Reconnect with humans (and not become Lonely),
and Relax my body (and not get Tired).

If this is sounding a bit like a cheesy book-turned-movie like Eat Pray Love, I think I’m OK with that, because those are, regardless of how they might be framed in that book or that movie, good things.

Living a lifestyle of this kind of discipline is not complicated, but various challenges can make it… well… challenging.

A wealthy, upwardly-mobile, business-type person could find that:
meetings crowd out lunch,
high pressure situations don’t allow for on-the-spot forgiveness,
endless emails and report-writing isolate me from colleagues
demands of family mean there is ‘just no time’ to rest

A less-wealthy, less-mobile person with less-choice could also be faced with realties like:
they cannot afford to eat properly
they live in a conflict-ridden, war-torn context, fearing for life, with a long-list of real enemies and justified resentments
they are forcibly isolated from human contact or loved ones
they have to work 80 hours to feed their family

I don’t have anything but empathy for the latter of those two.
But for those of us whose lives are more like the first, there is possibly more opportunity and choice than we admit.

If…
I want to avoid states of low-wellbeing where I set myself up to not flourish…
then…
I need to set myself up to live well.

I need to be spiritually proactive instead of cleverly reactive.

I need to refuel, release, reconnect and relax.

Esther, Exodus & Escalation

I just finished reading Esther this morning. It’s quite astonishing to read it in 2024 – with what’s going on in Israel & Gaza. There are some fascinating similarities (and important differences) between 480 BC and 2024; between ancient Persia and modern Palestine, which I wanted to reflect on here.

The Reality of Oppression

Jewish identity is shaped by many things, but among them we must include the tragic reality of being oppressed.

This is a historic trajectory that goes all the way back to Egypt. Israel under the lash of oppressive rule by Pharaoh. Making bricks without straw. The book of Exodus narrates the astounding victory that Israel experienced under God’s redemptive hand. It’s an ultimate reversal of power. The ultimate under-dog story. The little guy beating the big guy. Little Israel plundered the Big Egyptians. Their Big fancy chariot wheels got stuck before they all got drowned in the sea, and we Little guys made it through just fine with dry feet.

The book of Esther narrates the Jews under a kind of new Egypt, this time it is Persia. And this time, it is not the king that plays the leading oppressor role, but a high-ranking official named Haman. The basic story arc here is similar to Exodus, but instead of escaping with plunder, the reversal here is that the ones who were about to be entirely destroyed got to do some defensive destroying of their own.

Fast forward to 1933-1945 and the sense of victimhood has another horrific and historic chapter supporting it. This time Egypt is the Third Reich and Pharaoh is Hitler. I’ve been to Auschwitz. I’ve read Night by Elie Weisel. Utterly inhumane and horrific. Jewish folk carted in, dehumanised, starved, humiliated and systematically disposed of.

So then, in the mind of the Jewish people, the lineage of oppression and victimhood is clear and historic.
Egypt. Persia. Third Reich.
Pharaoh. Haman. Hitler.

Victims in the Present Moment

The time-span from Hitler and the WWII era to the current situation is only mere decades, but for us it feels like ages. The UN Partition Plan (1947) placed Israel officially back in the land. Without wanting (or pretending to be able) to get into a balanced summary of events, shall we say it’s not been a peaceful situation. There’s not much I want to say about the current horrors taking place. But I will risk making an observation that I think is crucially important.

Putting aside the question of what is correct or right, and focusing on the question of what motivates action… both the IDF (Israeli Defense Force) and Hamas (note: I’ve deliberately not used the terms ‘Israel’ or the ‘Palestinians’) are operating from a victim mindset… and both feel their actions are justified because of it.

Whatever you think about Just War theory, pacifism, or self-defense, we can probably acknowledge the difference between senseless, random, brutality (“let’s kill people for fun”) and the kind of violence and counter-violence at play here (“they have it coming to them”). Agree or not with the actions of either, it is useful to try to understand them.

Let’s go back now and look a little closer at Exodus, Esther, WWII and then the present…

Justifying Violence?

Lets start in Exodus. Egypt justified violence and ‘shrewd’ treatment against the Israelites, arguing that “the Israelites have become much too numerous” (Exodus 1:8-10). They feared them growing even more numerous, fighting against them, and leaving. In light of this oppressive enslavement, we see Moses justifying killing the Egyptian who was beating a Hebrew (2:11-13). In the book of Exodus, there is a strong theme of God fighting for Israel (14:14; 14:25). They don’t have to wield swords, the Lord brings plagues and parts the sea. The Israelites are more numerous, but weaker in terms of political power, might and money. And through divine rescue, they conquer. The little guys (large in number) beat the big bad guys.

Next, let’s look at Esther. Here we have Haman, the Agagite, who is not only incensed that Mordecai will not bow to recognise the high standing he’d been given, but escalated matters to planning and scheming to have all Jews destroyed throughout the whole kingdom. We don’t know if the logic he lays out to Xerxes (Ahasuerus) is genuinely part of his background hatred of Jews, but his argument was that the Jews have different laws, keep separate, and don’t obey the king’s laws. Their impropriety made them, by his logic, worthy of extinction. By the time Haman had written letters in the king’s name, they contained “the order to destroy, kill and annihilate all the Jews – young and old, women and little children… and to plunder their goods.” (3:13) The order identified a single day for the slaughter, and went out to every province.

The immediate response was “great mourning among the Jews, with fasting, weeping and wailing.” (4:3) This was in addition to their existing sense of oppression as exiles. Esther (Hadassah) was not only a descendant of captives, but also an orphan. She didn’t have any wealth or power, but we learn she is rich with beauty and wisdom (2:5-7). As the story plays out (spoilers if you haven’t read it), Haman gets hung on a gallows he had made for Mordecai (7:10). Still more, although the previous order of Haman could not be undone (it carried the seal of the signet ring), the king empowered Esther and Mordecai to issue a second decree, authorised again by the signet ring, that the Jews have “the right to assemble and protect themselves, to destroy, kill and annihilate any armed force of any nationality or province that might attack them and their women and children, and to plunder the property of their enemies.” (8:11). Haman’s orders were literally genocidal (“all the Jews” young/old, women/children), while Mordecai’s were restricted to the defensive destruction of armed attackers. When the day came for the previous genocidal orders of Haman to be carried out, the Jews assembled “to attack those seeking their destruction” (9:2). The enemies resisted and destroyed reached as high as 75,000, and it is repeated three times that “they did not lay their hands on the plunder.” (9:10, 15, 16) The would-be victims were empowered to defend themselves, and did not escalate matters and take the plunder that the edict had entitled them to. The victims had resisted oppression without becoming oppressors themselves.

Fast forward to WWII and Hitler. Hitler was motivated by a victim mentality. He and other Germans felt that the Treaty of Versailles was too harsh. With his own brand of so-called scientific reasoning, he felt that the Jews were a threat to the health, strength, and purity of human progress. Such was the horrific thinking that justified such terrible tragic brutality and violence. As for the Jewish people, there was no opportunity for counter violence – and no need for justifying it. Unlike the mass deliverance narrated in Exodus, not everyone was able to escape to neighbouring countries or survive the concentration camps (better called Death Camps). Unlike the stark triumphant reversal narrated in the book of Esther, there was no great empowering act of self-defense in 1945. The war simply ended one day and survivors were freed.

Revisiting Victimhood in the Present Moment

Again, both the IDF and Hamas feel victimised.
Let’s consider some of the ways each feel victimised.

Palestinians in general – and Hamas in particular – protest displacement going back decades to the 1947 UN Partition Plan. They see this as an ongoing act of oppression. They lament the imposition of walls that were built between families that separated people and communities. They lament the responses of Israel that they would claim are consistently disproportionate.

Israel, by contrast, feels the pain of long-standing displacement and diaspora, going back centuries. They feel hated by surrounding nations. They feel the pain of being judged for what they would call self-defense. They feel misrepresented and labelled as reckless when they claim they are doing everything possible to warn innocent people to clear out.

When Justifications aren’t Just…

I’m going to risk suggesting that the victim mentality has wrongly justified violence on both sides.
That’s not me sitting comfortably on the fence, that’s trying to be even-handed in critique.

Hamas cannot justify their literally genocidal intent. Whatever the realities of ongoing colonisation and oppression, that does not justify the actions of 7 October 2023, and the ongoing refusal to return all hostages. It does not justify the tactics of hiding under hospitals and using civilians as human shields.

The IDF cannot justify its ‘collateral damage’ of civilian casualties in Gaza. Whatever the legitimacy there may be to defending yourself against a group (Hamas) that wants to end your existence, and however fair it is to take action to achieve the return or rescue of hostages, this does not justify the mass bombing. Civilians are never going to be able to clear out faster than Hamas.

A Better Way…

Jesus spoke to a group of Jews who also identified as Victims. They were under the thumb of Roman occupation. They longed for a Messianic rescue. Some of them were ready to wield the sword. Some did. The Maccabean revolt decades before Jesus. The Simon bar Kokhba revolt a century after.

Jesus instead taught these victims to pray for those who persecute them. To strive for and pray for justice, but to do that with Mercy and Humility, in line with the prophet Micah. Jesus knew then and knows now what happens when “the things that make for peace” remain hidden from our eyes.

Let us Pray for Peace and Work for Peace. At all times and places.

Nehemiah-nomics

Chapter 5 of Nehemiah gives a great picture of biblical justice.

The irony here is the context that the injustice develops.

Luxury in a context of hard-times

Cyrus, the pagan king anointed by God, has mercifully decreed that the Jews should return and rebuild Jerusalem. Artaxerxes, not able to bear seeing sadness in his presence, has sent the weeping Nehemiah back to rebuild.

It’s all hands on deck building the wall. Read chapter 4. The people “worked with all their heart” (4:6) and are making angeringly fast progress filling in gaps. Their neighbouring adversaries (forced to let them build) are threatening to attack and stop them. So the re-builders have to work with one hand and have a sword in the other. They roster on shifts of people working and watching.

As early as chapter 3, Nehemiah hints that the nobles are not so helpful. They “would not put their shoulders to the work” (3.5).

The Voice of the Poor

Now in chapter 5 we have three quotes from those facing hardship. This is quite remarkable. Nehemiah doesn’t just describe the challenges facing them in his own words, but in the actual voice of the poor.

One group talks about how their large numbers make their need for grain a matter of life and death
Another talks about having to mortgage their homes to get grain.
A third group talks about having to sell their children into slavery to pay the kings tax. They say “we are powerless, because our fields and vineyards belong to others.”

Economic Dominance

Nehemiah critiques the nobles for economically dominating their fellow Jews. Buying their lands and charging interest for the loans they made. The nobles didn’t have a word to say in their defense (5:8) This moment is a parallel of the Jubilee laws given at Sinai (Leviticus 25) to prepare the people to live justly in the land. Land was not to be sold permanently. It was to be seen as belonging to God. Nehemiah calls for the Jubilee reset. Give it back. The fields, vineyards, olive groves, and interest you gained.

Translating this for today…

It is a stunning picture of biblical justice and jubilee economics.

It’s important to say that it is not communism. It’s not everyone having the same. It’s not equality legislated to the max. But it’s clearly not everyone ‘free’ to do whatever they want. Be as successful as you can, make as much money as you can. Even if it causes your neighbour to starve and they end up facing the horrible decision of dying of starvation or selling their family into slavery.

No. This is neither unhindered free-market economics, nor big-government forced equality (which always seems to make room for a special powerful group who has a lot more). Neither Moses nor Nehemiah intended to control people so that nobody would ever be a bit more successful than another. What they both will not stand for, however, is gross inequity. Once you have a huge rich/poor gap, things get practically impossible for the poor, while the rich have to do practically nothing to keep their wealth.

Whatever we think about government legislation or political policy, the Church today should call one another to conduct ourselves in ways that do not allow the poor to be destitute and without a real choice.

fashionable help

In my arrogance…
I don’t want help that looks to simply like help…
I don’t want help that makes me look too desperate…
I wouldn’t want anyone to think I really needed help…
I’d rather be seen as someone who is a smug curator of the most desirable help.

In my arrogance…
I want fashionable help.

In my arrogance…
“I lift my eyes up.
Up to the mountains.
Where does my help come from?
My help comes from…”
Things that sound cool…
Things I can wear like fashion accessories…
Things like “12 step spirituality”
or “neuroscience”
or the scintillating book quotes I might drop…

What about people whose help is… God?
What about people who find it helpful to listen to Christian top-40 worship music?
What about people whose help is saying the serenity prayer?

Instead of arrogance…
intelligent help for intelligent people…
trendy help for trendy people…

What about simple help for simple people…

Lord make me humble.
Make me a servant.

the sneaky allure of selfishness

I’m a prayer guy, and I’m a fan of 12-step spirituality.

So one of the resources I use for prayer is the guidance offered in the AA Big Book for step 11.

It suggests some patterns of meditation and prayer “upon awakening”. Here’s the first bit of advice…

“On awakening let us think about the twenty-four hours ahead. We consider our plans for the day. Before we begin, we ask God to direct our thinking, especially asking that it be divorced from self-pity, dishonest or self-seeking motives.”

AA Big Book, page 86

I am in awe of how practical this advice is. If I’m not directed by God, I will eventually (or immediately!) drift into spiritually unhelpful ways of thinking about my day. It mentions three huge categories of bad day-planning: “self-pity, dishonest or self-seeking motives.”

In my insecurity, I can lapse into the self-pity of imagining how certain situations may not go my way, or dreading the experience today of the effects of having been wronged yesterday.

In my self-protecting fear, I can drift into dishonesty, looking at the day ahead with a distorted lens that lies to myself by exaggerating the good that I think I might do, or minimising the mistakes I may make.

In my grandiosity (itself a product of insecurity), I can wade into the waters of imagining how impressively I might perform in this or that situation.

Later on in these couple of pages of advice, the AA big book has a strong suggestion around making our prayers that are oriented to being useful to others.

We ask especially for freedom from self-will, and are careful to make no request for ourselves only. We may ask for ourselves, however, if others will be helped. We are careful never to pray for our own selfish ends. Many of us have wasted a lot of time doing that and it doesn’t work. You can easily see why.

AA Big Book, page 87

I don’t think it is theologically wrong to pray for ourselves, of course. But it is not hard to see the wisdom of this advice. Our thinking about the day, and our ways of going about the day itself, are quickly distorted by self-focused motives. Heck, I can find myself drifting into worry, fear or self-protecting resentment even during a time of prayer itself!

The advice here is to always remember our priority of being useful to others. That is damned good advice.

surprising God speech

This morning I am up to 2 Chronicles 35 in my daily readings.

I was excited to read more about Josiah, who is becoming a bit of a favourite of mine. No king like him before or after him, says 2 Kings 23:25. The account of Josiah in 2 Kings is very brief in its narration of Josiah’s death. It simply says that Josiah went out to fight against the Egyptian king Necho, who “faced him and killed him.” It’s given as a very short footnote in the life of the great reformer.

The account in 2 Chronicles has a fair bit more to say about Josiah’s death. Despite all of Josiah’s inspiring life: the years of learning as a young king, his seeking after God, the purging Judah of idols and images, the repairing of temple, and the celebrating of a Passover like no other, we are given a blunt account of his stubborn end.

Necho came up to fight against Carchemish by the Euphrates. Josiah is determined to stop this, and moves into position. Pharaoh is off-put and sends a message to Josiah, effectively saying: “Hey, what are you doing? My fight is not with you, but with them.” And then we have a fascinating record of communication from this Pharaoh. This Egyptian brings God into it, saying, “God commanded me to make haste. Refrain from meddling with God, who is with me, lest He destroy you.”

That’s quite a statement. “I’m acting under the command of God. God is with me. If you resist me, you’re resisting God, and you’ll be destroyed.”

Immediately some of our intuitive sensibilities leap in here in confusion. “Oh sure, the Egyptian king may be claiming that God has sent him, but we know that God only speaks to and through the good people of Israel, like prophets, priests and kings. God doesn’t speak through Pharaohs…”

But then, the narrative continues and shatters those sensibilities: we are told that Josiah, unwilling to turn away, disguised himself and went to fight, and in so doing “did not heed the words of Necho from the mouth of God.”

What? This is not just Necho being used as a mouthpiece for God, but God’s mouth being used as a channel for… Necho’s words!?.

Here again we have an expectation-shattering narrative. God gets involved in the world in ways we don’t like, don’t approve of, and don’t expect. God not only gets involved with passionate prayerful reformers like Josiah, but also with warring Egyptian kings who are being resisted by the ‘good guys’.

As we learn much later in the biblical metanarrative, God is not only the God of the Jews, but of Gentiles also (Romans 3:29). God can speak through stars, donkeys and silence as well as prophets, preachers and holy writ. When it comes to God, we do have a definitive narrative to help us know when something is or isn’t from God, but we also do well not to overly absolutize or restrict our expectations.

Maybe today God is speaking through people and groups we don’t like, as well as ‘The Christians’.

God speaks in surprising ways. May I listen, hear and obey.

the idolatry of seeking bad help

In 2 Chronicles 28, amidst the familiar but irregular back-and-forth rhythm of ‘good king, bad king’ in this part of the Bible, we are introduced to King Ahaz. He did not do what is right.

Bad king.

One of the familiar refrains of this part of biblical history has to do with burning incense to, building altars to, or not removing the high places to foreign gods. The original readers or hearers of these stories would have known the practical detail of the idolatry that is summarised by such words. But we modern readers don’t.

Early in the chapter (28:2-4) we get a list of his idolatrous practices (the Baal images, the child sacrifice, the incence at the high places, hilltops and trees), but later (28:22-23) we are given a window into his idolatrous mindset. Here’s how the text puts it.

In his time of trouble King Ahaz became even more unfaithful to the Lord. He offered sacrifices to the gods of Damascus, who had defeated him; for he thought, “Since the gods of the kings of Aram have helped them, I will sacrifice to them so they will help me.”

Here is the implicit idolatrous ideology we are invited to consider: if you want help in a particular area, you sacrifice particular things to particular gods. If you have food insecurity or drought, you sacrifice grain to get more from the gods. If childbirth and reproduction isn’t going so well, you might sacrifice your child to get help with having more children.

By contrast, the faithful leaders and prophets understood that the Lord doesn’t require dead children, or even rams or bulls, to bless his people. They knew how inhumane and anti-life such practices and ideology were.

In our modern world, we don’t literally make these same kinds of sacrifices, but we still can fall into idolatrous thinking that leads to idolatrous living. We see other people who seem to be enjoying certain things, so we sacrifice to get in on the action. We might think: “Their holiday photos looked amazing. I’m going to work extra and save so we can go.” or “That newest smartphone model has amazing features, instead of using my money for other purposes, I’ll shell out for one.”

Those are just some easy examples. Idolatry can be much more subtle. Even church leaders can be tempted: “Their church services look amazing, let’s invest in all of their tech so we can have that too.”

Then and now, the contrast is grateful obedience to the Lord and not enslaving ourselves to a false god, even if the offer looks enticing. The things we really need, oxygen, grace, meaning, purpose, are free of charge and not in short supply.

spirit direct my tongue

Lord, open my lips, and my mouth shall declare your praise. (Psalm 51:15)

However and whenever I use my tongue, I am increasingly away of the need for my speech to be spirit-directed. There are a few categories of spirit-directed speech that are useful to recognise:

spirit directed proclamation

Whatever form or format the proclamation takes, be that preaching in a church, directing a film, or designing an image for a billboard or Instagram (and I don’t ever expect to do two of those four!), there is a stark difference between engaging in those tasks with a mind and heart full of self, or filled with Spirit.

spirit directed conversation

Whether it be the most gentle listening and coaching, or the most urgent and heated must-have dispute, again, there is a clear distinction between the Spirit directing me to speak words filled with truth and grace, or my ego directing me to speak words filled with half-truths, defensiveness, insecurity and manipulation.

spirit directed prayer

When I pray, I may use a prayer book, I may let my mind chase the Spirit’s heart with unplanned words, or indeed I may silently speak to God in the quiet space of my own mind and heart. In all of those ‘modes’ I can either be led by the fear and pride that flows from ego and flesh, or I can be prompted or awakened by the Spirit enabling me to read, pray or meditate along the lines of love, humility and courage.

spirit directed tongues?

I have no personal experience of what most people call tongues. But even with my lack of experience (and putting to one side the exegetical interpretive questions I can hide within) I can imagine that whatever kind of speech that is borne from the movement of my tongue, be that a) a spontaneously and miraculously given and previously un-learned human language, b) a humanly-unintelligible angelic language, c) wordless groans, or d) a simple, humble and playful kind of free vocalisation offered to a Father by a child seeking an encounter that transcends rationality, it is the Spirit that makes such speech edifying or selfish.

Lord, open my lips, and my mouth shall declare your praise. (Psalm 51:15)