Catching Fog

Moses took care of a bunch of sheep forty years before God let him do anything else. We may not enjoy learning patience, but we really have no choice. The forty years Moses spent tending sheep were not a waste: they had to happen in order for Moses to become the person that God needed to lead his people from Egypt. In that time he got married to a beautiful young woman named Zipporah, the daughter of a priest of Midian. They had a son named Gershom, and he had a career working in his father-in-law’s sheep business.

But God had not forgotten about his people back in Egypt; he knew he had a covenant with them; he heard all their cries for help. But it wasn’t yet time for God to act. He had to finish training the man who would rescue them. As the forty long years passed, the Pharoah that had issued the death sentence against Moses for the crime of murder.

The man who killed an Egyptian overseer who had been beating a Jewish slave, was not the sort of man God wanted to rescue his people. The man God needed was the one who had been a shepherd for forty years, who was married, who had a son, and who no longer had much interest in rescuing slaves from their masters. But the events and circumstance of Moses’ life, his time with the sheep, gave him just the skills he needed to lead a bunch of slaves to freedom.

From the point of view of the Israelites suffering during those forty years–many who spent their whole lives without rescue and then died in slavery and oppression–God’s patience looked like inaction and unconcern. Where was God? Why wasn’t he doing anything? But of course God was doing something: he was busy training their rescuer.

We can look at the methods God used to rescue his people after four hundred years of slavery and wonder why he did it the way he did it. In the first place, why allow them to be enslaved at all? Why did Moses have to be the one to rescue them? Why did his training take forty years? Why did it take ten plagues to convince the Pharaoh to let the people go? Why did they have to spend another forty years wandering in the desert? Why did they have to fight a series of wars against the indigenous peoples of Canaan before they could move in? Why all those problems and years before the Israelites could take possession of their Promised Land? Couldn’t God just have snapped his fingers, waved his hands or said some magic words and made it all perfect instantly?

I think the story of Moses and the Israelites reveals something about God and about how God works in his universe. It also illustrates the importance of patience: God seems not to be in the habit of doing things quickly. The creation of the universe, despite what Creationists argue, did not happen very fast. Nothing in the Bible happened quickly. Even Jesus lived thirty years as a carpenter before he began his public ministry—and God hadn’t even sent the Savior to Earth in Bethlehem until quite late in human history. Just like how the Israelites had to endure slavery before God saved them.

Just because you don’t see God doing anything about your problems, just because your dreams seem far from ever coming true, it does not mean that God is not there, or that he is not at work on your concerns. You just have to be patient.

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Jesus learned that his friend Lazarus was seriously ill, but he made no attempt to go visit him. In fact, Jesus delayed going to visit his friends, Martha and Mary of Bethany, and their brother Lazarus so that Lazarus could die. After he’d been dead for four days, he finally arrived at their house. He asked Mary if she believed in the resurrection of the dead. “Of course,” she replied.

“I’m the resurrection and the life,” he told her, and then insisted on going to visit the tomb. After weeping over his dead friend, he ordered the stone covering it moved away, then called Lazarus out. The man who had been dead four days, whose body had decayed and was causing a bit of a stink, came hopping out, wrapped in grave clothes but very much alive and well. (See John 11)

Sometimes God acts in a completely unexpected manner, after all is obviously lost.

Years ago my wife and I faced a significant crisis early in our marriage. My wife had decided not to sign a new contract at the private school where she taught. I was a college professor at a small Christian college, which decided to make radical changes in the Bible department so that my contract was not renewed. By the end of that first summer after the academic year, our paychecks came to an end–and neither of us had found a new position yet.

During the first week of September, an envelope arrived from an old friend. When I opened it, a bit of currency fluttered to the floor. To my surprise, it was a hundred dollar bill. Five identical bills then spilled out and floated to the ground.

The words in the letter were short and simple. “God told me that you were in need of money. Would you mind if I sent you six hundred dollars every month?”

My friend didn’t even know we were unemployed. But faithfully, every month, an envelope arrived with cash. After about five months, my wife and I got new jobs. Before we could tell our friend, another envelope arrived:

“My sister and brother are going to Mozambique to become medical missionaries. Would you mind if I sent them the money now instead?”

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Sometimes it doesn’t get better. John the Baptist was a faithful prophet of God. His life had been a hard one, born to an old man and old woman, who, according to tradition died when he was still quite young, he had spent most of his life living in the desert, subsisting on whatever food he could find there, usually bugs and sometimes a bit of wild honey. After announcing that his cousin, Jesus, was the Messiah, he saw his followers drift away after the new man; although he understood it had to be that way, he was still human.

Then, after criticizing the king and his wife, he found himself arrested and kept in a prison; at last, to satisfy the vengeance of the king’s wife, the king—on account of a drunken promise to a dancing strumpet, his wife’s daughter—has him beheaded. So John died, alone and on a whim. (see Matthew 14:1-13, Mark 6:16-29)

And yet, Jesus had this to say about John:

“What did you go out into the wilderness to see? A reed swayed by the wind? If not, what did you go out to see? A man dressed in fine clothes? No, those who wear expensive clothes and indulge in luxury are in palaces. 26 But what did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet. This is the one about whom it is written:

“ ‘I will send my messenger ahead of you,

who will prepare your way before you.’

I tell you, among those born of women there is no one greater than John; yet the one who is least in the kingdom of God is greater than he.” (Luke 7:24-28)

As the author of Hebrews wrote about other people of faith:

There were others who were tortured, refusing to be released so that they might gain an even better resurrection. 36 Some faced jeers and flogging, and even chains and imprisonment. They were put to death by stoning; y they were sawed in two; they were killed by the sword. They went about in sheepskins and goatskins, destitute, persecuted and mistreated—38 the world was not worthy of them. They wandered in deserts and mountains, living in caves and in holes in the ground.

These were all commended for their faith, yet none of them received what had been promised…(Hebrews 11:35-39)

Like John the Baptist, they received no comfort, blesssing, prosperity or everything working out okay.

Here.

But notice what the author of Hebrews wrote after the sadness above: “since God had planned something better for us so that only together with us would they be made perfect.” (Hebrews 11:40)

If we remain locked into seeing only our seventy odd years here on Earth, then John’s life, the life of the other faithful people who suffered and died, who experienced deprivation or martyrdom may seem empty and bleak. But we need to regain our perspective: we are eternal creatures, granted everlasting life thanks to the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross. There is more to the story than our life here, and our physical death. From eternity, our seventy years here will be an ever smaller part of our existence, fading into the distance in our rear view mirrors. Objects in the mirror are smaller than they appear.

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Proverbs 31 is a popular passage, which describes a strong and powerful woman. The author argues that a strong and powerful woman is worth a lot. The book of Proverbs is a composite work, written by more than one person. The author of Proverbs 31 is identified as King Lemuel. Nothing is known about this individual beyond his mention here; he appears nowhere else in the Bible or in history. He relates words his mother taught him, including a description of what to look for in a woman. Traditionally, she is described as “virtuous” or “noble” in most English translations. Oddly, the Hebrew word so being translated is rendered “virtuous” only when it is being used to describe women. Otherwise, the word gets translated as “powerful” or even “army.” Perhaps most translators, being male, find the concept of a powerful woman disturbing? And yet, the passage goes on to describe a woman who takes charge of her life and those around her, doing what she can to see to the welfare of her family, from purchasing land to conducting business and trade. We’re told that her husband is respected in the affairs of state and business because of her abilities. Lemuel’s mother tells him that in finding a woman, intelligence and productivity, together with the fear of Yahweh is much better than a charmer with a good figure, since beauty is fleeting: character, in other words, is what counts and it is what endures.

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Paul tells his readers that another characteristic of love is that “love doesn’t boast.” (1 Corinthians 4) Love is not boastful because you suddenly lack pride, but because you don’t feel the need to boast. Boasting is a consequence of feeling inadequate, of not feeling accepted by the one you love. If you truly love, you don’t feel a need to put on airs. During a new relationship, one tries to impress the new guy or gal, especially during the “in love” phase. You don’t need to impress, nor do you feel a need to impress, those you love. It is those you don’t know, who are new to you, that you feel a need to impress, or those that you are unsure of, like your boss or coworkers or acquaintances.

The more the insecurity, the more the need to start listing one’s accomplishments and attributes, or flaunting them. When one is comfortable, one doesn’t need to show off. That’s why the husband doesn’t feel the need to put on fancy clothes and cologne and suck in his gut when he is with his wife of thirty years.

Love is comfortable.

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I went to a small Christian liberal arts college–many years ago. We were required to attend chapel three times a week and I actually came to enjoy them; the chapels would be conducted by various professors and they would speak on any number of topics, ranging from Bible to history to science. The Old Testament professor, Dr. Richard Patterson, gave a message on 2 Kings 4:12-5:27, 8:1-5; he told the story of Gehazi, and he began by mentioning that most people had never heard of him, let alone heard a sermon on him. Certainly as an eighteen year old, I had not heard anyone ever tell his story, though I did have a vague sense that I’d at least seen the name. Ever since, I’ve been fond of Gehazi’s story”

The prophet Elijah had gone up to heaven in a chariot of fire, and his servant Elisha had taken his place as the prophet of Israel. Elisha had then picked a man to serve him as his servant. That man was Gehazi. One day Naaman, the commander of the army of Aram arrived and asked to be cured of his leprosy. Elisha cured him, but refused Naaman’s offer of payment and sent him on his way. Gehazi, thought Elisha was making a mistake, and decided that if his master wouldn’t make a profit, then he would. Chasing after Naaman, he made up a story: “My master sent me to say,’Two young men from the company of the prophets have just come to me from the hill country of Ephraim. Please give them a talent of silver and two sets of clothing.’”

Naaman believed Gehazi and was happy to pay up. In fact, he offered him more than he had asked: he got two talents of silver in addition to the two sets of clothing, and then Naaman supplied two of his servants to carry all the stuff back to Gehazi’s house. Gehazi hid his bounty, and sent the servants away.

But when he returned to Elisha, Elisha asked him, “Where have you been, Gehazi?”

Gehazi’s response was another lie: “Your servant didn’t go anywhere”

Elisha knew better and told him his penalty: “Was not my spirit with you when the man got down from his chariot to meet you? Is this the time to take money, or to accept clothes, olive groves, vineyards, flocks, herds, or menservants and maidservants? Naaman’s leprosy will cling to you and to your descendants forever.”

Then Gehazi went from Elisha’s presence covered with leprosy.

In the New Testament, Jesus asks, “What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul?” (Mark 8:36) People will do horrible things on account of greed; in Gehazi’s case it cost him far more than he gained.

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In 1 Corinthians 13:4 the first thing that Paul says about love is that “Love is patient.” Paul had just been explaining to the Christian community in the Greek city of Corinth that there was nothing more important than love. After making that statement, he then gave a list describing what the symptoms of love were, so that you’d be able to recognize the beast when you saw it. The first clue that you’re dealing with love is when you notice patience, a word that sometimes is described as “long suffering.” It means being able to put up with something that given your druthers, you would try to avoid or change: the old joke being that those whom doctors treat are called patients because of all the time they spend in the waiting room.

I have three daughters, all adopted out of foster care. My youngest was born addicted to crack cocaine. Additionally, she had been prenatally exposed to methamphetamine, tobacco, and alcohol. When she arrived in our home, five days after she had been born, she was still going through withdrawal and suffered uncontrollable tremors. One possible consequence of that drug exposure is that she now suffers from severe attention deficit hyperactivity disorder: ADHD for short. When she was young, she regularly misbehaved and frequently got into things. She has trouble thinking ahead about the possible repercussions of any of her actions. If the mood strikes her, she does it. “I have scissors, the cat has hair. What can I do about that? Hmm.” So over the years she has required a lot more time and effort and work to raise and discipline.

But she is still alive. How come? Because we love her. And we are obviously “patient” with her. From the moment she came into our home, we sought out all the best therapy for her: we found all the developmental services that are offered. She had physical therapists, speech therapists, and went to special preschool, and special kindergarten, then repeated in regular kindergarten.
The point, of course, is that love is willing to stick with a person, to wait however long is necessary, to do whatever needs to be done in order to solve the problem, for however long it might take. Why is that? Because the person is the object of my affections, and because that person and his or her welfare is vital to me. This gives us some insight into God’s relationship with us.

Do you collect your paycheck at the end of every day of work? No, you get it at the end of the week, or the end of every two weeks, or maybe at the end of the month. Do you say “to heck with it” because you don’t get paid at the end of every day? No, you happily wait; you’re patient, because that paycheck is worth the wait, worth the process.

How long you are willing to wait for something, how much trouble you’re willing to put up with, is dependent upon how important it is to you.

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How important is freedom, anyhow? When God created Adam and Eve, he put them in a garden with abundant food, in pleasant conditions. But he gave them a rule: they could eat from every tree in that garden they wanted save one: the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. It was one of two trees that were unusual. The other tree was called the tree of life. There was no prohibition on eating the fruit from that tree.

But one day while Eve was wandering about the garden, she met the serpent, who asked her some questions. The first question was: “Did God really say, ‘You must not eat from any tree in the garden?”
Eve set the serpent straight. “We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, but God did say, ‘You must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die.’”

The serpent then decided to set Eve straight, “You will not surely die. God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.”
Eve looked at the fruit, noticed that it was edible and pretty. More than that, it carried the promise of wisdom. So she took the fruit, ate it, and shared it with Adam, who also ate it.
The result was expulsion from the Garden of Eden, a series of curses on Adam and Eve, the worst being that they would be mortal and die. God set angels in place to make sure that Adam and Eve would not be able to get back to the garden; he did not want them to eat from the Tree of Life, because if they did, they would then live forever.

One of several lessons that is obvious from the story is that forcing humans to be good is not the most important thing for God. If it were, then why did he permit them to make a bad choice with the tree of the knowledge of good and evil? Why did he set up such a choice in the first place? Could it be that the right to choose—the right to be free—was more important to God than anything else? Apparently human freedom was worth the possibility of all the horrors of human history that grew out of that first poor choice. When people are free, they can make good choices, they can become anything they want—but equally, they can make bad choices and become something reprehensible.

But when one stops to think about which sort of society one would prefer to live in: a liberal western democracy or a totalitarian dictatorship—one can begin to understand why God made the choice he made: freedom is better than tyranny, even if tyranny is more orderly. Freedom is messy, but that’s better than any alternative.

Another of my books, this time a bit of Christian science fiction or satire, With a Rod of Iron: A Parable, is available for the Kindle. In this book, Jesus comes back, much to the surprise of the Israelis who were facing another war. The Palestinians who were attacking the Israelis were even more shocked when the sky opened up and Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a white horse. But the most shocked people of all were the Christians. In fact, many were so surprised by what happened that they decide it was a “strong delusion” and that the man who rode into Jerusalem was none other than the Antichrist himself.

When Jesus arrived in the first century, he was not accepted by the religious establishment. He did not behave according to their expectations of the Messiah. He didn’t measure up. Even Jesus’ own disciples didn’t understand what was really going on. In fact, they didn’t fully comprehend what Jesus was all about until after Pentecost.

So why do we imagine that we will be any more clued in when he comes the second time? And will the religious establishment react any differently the second time around, if Jesus once again fails to perform according to their expectations?

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