Ezekiel 32

A lament over Pharaoh. It talks about him as a water monster flailing on land and being picked at by birds and bits of flesh carried out and around. It’s not literal or personal, it’s about the dissipation and weakening of the Pharaoh’s power.

The old testament prophesies are so often political, the grisly metaphors of death and destruction are not as deadly when they work out as they may sound. God’s bark as often not as bad as his bight.

It’s often tough love, about shattering pride and prosperity that has undermined people’s spirituality.

I continue to worry about our church on that score. We’ve got this property deal happening this year that will comfort us financially but take the pressure off relying on God as much.

The end of the passage talks about the pit, about Egyptian fallen warriors being cast down there and meeting all the other nations who were mighty: the Assyrians, Meshak,Tubal, Elam. Forgotten powers.

The pit is sheol, the dark shrouded nothing that the old testament describes as the afterlife. Souls still exist, but God has revealed nothing much of what will become of them, except hints in the Psalms and a few other places. In the earlier books, like job and genesis, god’s blessing is mainly seen in terms of earthly blessing.

I was struck though, that even the pit wasn’t oblivion. The souls are still eternal. The passage even has a weird word “consolation” in there as the fallen warriors realise they are there with many others, even though it’s an awful fate.

It’s not atheism, because of eternity perhaps. We don’t just happen and disappear without trace, we are intentionally created and once god has created something, it is a forever universe event.

We are a unique act of God, we bear his imprint. With hearts that can love and do evil, and spark our minds to imagine eternity.

There it is, even in this bleak passage, a hope so fundamental to my thinking.

Ezekiel 29

We’re into 4 chapters of judgement on Egypt.

It opens with an elegant simile likening Egypt to a crocodile, with God as crocodile hunter, pulling it out of the river that allows it to thrive and leaving it in a field where it is weak and struggles.

And Egypt’s glory days never really did return after the Babylonians attacked and exiled them.

There’s a few things going on here that subverted my thinking.

This is another exile, being presented as God’s teaching another country a lesson. Israel’s exile is so profoundly tied to the revelation of God’s salvation plan, I tended to think it was unique.

Mind you, Egypt’s weakening and exile is also a lesson for Israel, an urgently relevant one. At the time the prophesy was made. They were trying to make alliances with Egypt to save them from the Babylonians. Big mistake, trust God not man.

I suppose God is caring about and shaping the narrative of all nations. I mean it says he does, but the Bible doesn’t often expose the untold stories. You tend to assume he’s only working on the chosen people.

God’s attitude to the Babylonians surprised me too. The siege on Tyre lasted 13 exhausting years and the wealthy merchants who ran the city sailed away to a nearby island with most of the valuable stuff,

So God says he is giving them Egypt without much fight as a kind of payment. A reward for the effort on Tyre, because they did it for God.

God showing concern that Babylon be rewarded for their efforts is strange to me, but sure seems to tell of his loving nature.

It reminds me of how I found the moment in Joshua 5:14 so pivotal, where the angel says God is on neither side of the conflict over the promised land.

A theme of the old testament is that wealth and prosperity leads to spiritual poverty, and losing everything material leads to spiritual renewal.

I’ve been thinking about that, as a big financial deal is going ahead that will give our church a big income. Danger ahead!

Goodies, baddies, success, failure. The Bible is telling us that nothing is as it seems.

The world is like groundhog day, set up to be generational, to restart over and over. And the specifics don’t matter a bit compared to the spiritual meta-journey.

That movie blends a little more of god’s view, eternity, into human experience than is normal, and so it draws out different implications of being both mortal and eternal.

God loves the Babylonians and the Canaanites too. We don’t comprehend God’s love with our natural instincts. God has to bless us with spiritual insight. And he does, the whole world, in different levels.

Ezekiel 25

Don’t worry, they’ll get theirs.

Lest Israel make a case that God is picking on them, This chapter assures them that their neighbours who passively watched and cheered as Babylon destoys Israel will get their judgement too.

God has no time for schadenfreude here.

I’m stressed organising our holiday. It’s expensive, complicated, and I’m worried it might not actually be that fun.

I don’t think there’s any natural connection between what Ezekiel is saying here and my worry, but it’s clarified that I should talk out my fears to Kelly somehow.

Maybe it’s something about the mutual destructiveness of being passive. Not being to blame for something doesn’t actually stop the bad thing being bad. Blame games don’t fix anything.

We’re in the season of advent, the season of hope, joy peace and love. The blame game increases none of those.

Matthew 2

The familiar events directly after Jesus’ birth. Wise men, slaughter of innocents, flight to Egypt, settling in Nazareth. Each event methodically linked to a prophesy it fulfills. Piling up an overwhelming case that Jesus is Messiah.

The interplay of agency and prophesy reminded me of exodus, where Pharaoh’s refusal to let the people go virtually alternates between “God hardened Pharaoh’s heart” and”Pharaoh hardened his heart”.

The very strange visit of wise men happened in order to fulfill the prophesy, but Herod’s unspeakably cruel slaughter of the innocents was simply prophesied. Herod owns it.

The plot mechanics are very visible, but in this story Deus ex machina is literal. For me the Egypt loop has always been a tipping point. I mentioned yesterday the absence of an exodus pillar in the genealogy. How could I forget! There’s just so much in here. Like a checklist.

But Jesus’ birth is a messy disaster too. On the run, born into oppression and the worst political persecution, refugees, having to live in the boondocks. And kings of the Orient, with expensive gifts.

Like yesterday, where the royal bloodlines were blurred by grace, the promises of the conquering Messiah are undercut with humility and marginalisation.

I’m exhausted, yet stable, as I read this. We’ve had a recovering child on crutches and a big party to stage. I’ve been forgetting to enjoy life, succumbing to stress and unconfidence. Some great things have been happening this year.

God works with mess, just be trusting and obedient. Commit. Wholehearted.

Psalm 136

His love endures forever. This is a chant, a groove. In this song “His love endures forever” is an phrase that endures forever… In a 26 verse psalm its repeated 26 times. HLEF.

I really want to write music based on this one, and maybe make it like one of those Gilbert and Sullivan pieces, where there is a tradition of writing in new lyrics for the current times.

Maybe it would work better rhythmically if it was “forever his love endures”. “Endures” is an enduring word, it stretches out.

The interposed lines run though God’s saving acts. Exodus. The Israelites can never get enough of exodus.

First we get God’s greatness: God of Gods, Lord of lords.

Then his creation. These are beautiful and elemental: earth, sun, moon, land and sea.

Then exodus. Same order as the Bible really.

Then.. us. He remembered us, freed us, gives every living creature food.

Give thanks to God in heaven!

I’m feeling thankful and proud of the report of the first NAIDOC (week celebrating indigenous culture) morning tea in the Queensland office.

One of our team was there and she was so excited, many of the workers, the people from properties, accounts etc felt moved by the explanation of, and support for the theme: Voice, Treaty, Truth. There were tears. They hung around just talking about it for a long time.

His love endures forever!

Give me wisdom to talk to my children Lord, give me and Kelly happy times. I’m having trouble remembering all the blessings we’ve had because of the challenges we face, may love endure.

Ecclesiastes overview

I thought I would enjoy this, and I did. Also, I read it mostly in a week when I was on holidays so, for better or worse, the reduced time pressure allowed more rumination than usual.

It’s the antidote to proverbs: for when you are good and diligent, and you get nowhere. For when the lazy cheaters are rewarded while your life sucks.

The book piles up examples of life not making sense, promising a lot but not delivering, and God and eternity being obscure.

By about half way through it has plumbed the depths of despair. But the unsparing honesty of the venting allows a happy ending of sorts.

You may as well enjoy the good bits of life while you can, and wisdom, once you have identified its limits, does have a role in giving us the context of god and eternity. Enriching our enjoyment of being God’s creation, within his creation, and helping us accept aging and death.

One of the bloggers I follow said she regarded the whole book as an instruction to relax, I loved that.

This book has kept me sane when God and life seem not to make sense for many years. I love that God put it in the Bible. Jesus came to earth to show us God understands and loves us on a deep level. This book reaches forward in trust to that empathy. “Remember your Creator” the teacher says in the end. I will, aware that my creator remembered me.

1 Life is a circle, no progress. I consider the pros and cons of reading this book now
2 Pleasure, achievement, success. Eternity makes all of them insubstantial. I consider authorship, structure, and the meaning of “meaningless”
3 A time for everything under heaven, how having eternity in our hearts is a mixed blessing. Great chapter!


4 Justice, work, relationships, fame. Observations of the limits of all leave the teacher deeply unsatisfied.
5 Don’t promise, don’t question, don’t dream. The often unsatisfying nature of religious and intellectual pursuits. Better to be a simple worker, flopping exhausted to bed at the end of the day
6 Wealth and fate – when wealth leaves you wishing you hadn’t been born, and how even when fate delivers good things, the randomness of it feels vulnerable


7 We’re all going to die, happiness is inane, sex is a trap, why frustration is good for you and other happy thoughts.
8 Railing against the randomness of life, wisdom can help in good times and bad
9 Quite a focussed conclusion to the problem that wisdom doesn’t always work as nearty as it could: death is the great leveller, it’s still better to be wise.
10 Since it’s better to be wise, a series of proverbs. A retreat from some of the negativity we’ve been through.


11 Concludes the list of proverbs with some thematically appropriate ones about coming to terms with randomness and starts a poem about wisely enjoying life when you can
12 Finishes the poem about youth lived wisely but enjoyably by vividly, but with calm resignation, describing old age and death. His ending refrain is “remember your creator”. Then the narrator wraps it up.

I wrote this song a few years back with my daughter based on Ecc. 3:11… what a pleasure to collaborate!

Ecclesiastes 11

I was grumpy yesterday about the abrupt change in tone from philosophical to practical but it works better read together with this chapter, which continues but deepens this direction of thinking.

A certain calm has come over the writer, having been in a spiral that descended in restless logic down to the despair of chapters 8 and 9, he now comes to terms with what can be known and what can’t.

He talks about trying lots of different ideas because you don’t know what will succeed.

He uses metaphors of randomness such as the unpredictable patterns of rain and wind, of a hedging against uncertainty by investing in many different things in life and trees falling random times and directions.

He reminds us of how deeply we don’t know the way of God by saying we don’t even know how we are made in the womb. Mysteries of even our origin are veiled from us. Science has come a long way since that was written, but we are still yet to create new life forms in a womb of our making.

Jesus linked wind and birth images to the experience of god’s presence:

The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear the sound of it, but cannot tell where it comes from and where it goes. So is everyone who is born of the Spirit John 3:8

To me the point is that only the now intersects with eternity. The past is fixed, the future is unknown. In the present moment we have choices and opportunities to affect things which will last. In the present, we have a sense of interacting with destiny, like an eternal being.

He returns to the “under the sun” language but with, I thought, a relatively carefree and optimistic twist:

“Light is sweet,
and it pleases the eyes to see the sun.
However many years anyone may live,
let them enjoy them all.

To me this is using a single day, even a single moment, walking out doors and seeing the sun, as a metaphor for life. Life is the now, our time in the sun, the interaction with eternity we know and experience. Use it well.

N T Wright, theologian and for a long while bishop of Durham cathedral had an example that comes to mind of stone masons working on Jigsaw pieces of the cathedral. A plant-inspired column top here, or a curved arch section there, but not necessarily having the master plan or visualising how they would sit in the finished cathedral. So, he says, it is with the eternal work we do on earth, that is stored up as treasure in heaven.

The teacher here can come to terms with questions about why and how we came to be, and the insubstantial darkness over god’s future, by clinging to the revealed wisdom of how to live happily and in accordance with god’s wishes while the sun is bright.

He’s gone from finding God’s wisdom annoyingly limited and incomplete to finding it the best we can get, and valuable for what it is.

Starting back at work after a weeks break, feeling quite negative and unprepared to cope with life, worth repeating to myself as I step out this morning into the sun….

Ecclesiastes 5

Don’t promise, don’t question, don’t dream.

The teacher can’t help but toss out wonderfully memorable, profound observations about most aspects of life as he dismisses them. But dismiss them he does.

Despite being clearly a person of learning and refinement, the structure of his book sometimes reminds me of an angry old alcoholic ranting to nobody at a train station: “And another thing: politicians. Liars the lot of them. And kids today: no respect…”

It’s a whinge list. Erudite, nuanced, but a whinge list.

In chapter 5, first up: extravagant promises, vows to God, that you don’t keep.

I think I get the scenario. Their religion involved pilgrimages to the temple to offer sacrifices atoning for sin. In a moment of religious ecstasy, and/or showing off/fake public piety, you make a big promise to God that you later regret. Easy target – loud, hypocritical religion.

But he also throws dreams in there… “Much dreaming and many words are meaningless. Therefore fear God”.

Don’t dare to dream?

Then he says not to be surprised by oppression, because it’s not isolated injustice, it’s systemic injustice, going all the way up to the mindless, bottomless, greed of the king. It’s too big to fight. There’s nothing you can do but observe it, presumably. It would be sort of socialist if it weren’t so defeatist. Perceptive observation, dismissed.

The rest of the chapter is about the dissatisfaction of labouring and scheming for fleeting wealth, which death mocks; compared to the dreamless heavy slumber of a working class labourer.

It ends with a perceptive, yet cynical little sermon: wanting more won’t make you happy, learn contentment with what you have be it a little or a lot, and exhaust yourself during the day with honest work so you don’t question or dream, and life will be as good as it can get.

I think it’s time to grapple with the phrase “under the sun”.

It appears many times in the book: a condition, the context, of most of the observations. In the book the refrain is like “and another thing” of the old drunkard’s rant. “And I saw this meaningless thing under the sun”.

Quick Google scan, the consensus is that it’s somewhere between the literal “on earth” and the metaphysical “without God”.

I visualise it like those science pictures that show bands around the earth of atmosphere and stratosphere. The band closest to the earth is “under the sun”, the realm of time and the realm of the physical, flesh: that which can be perceived through the senses. Even in this realm we will experience something of God and eternity… enough to drive us mad, as it said. But not much.

Above that is heaven, which is referred to when discussing eternity in chapter 3 (“a time for every purpose under heaven”). The realm of God, relatively unknown and eternal. The supernatural, things that last, the kingdom of God.

Jesus said to pray every day for ways to reduce the discrepancy between the eternal order and the world as we know it: “thy will be done on earth as in heaven”.

St Paul picked up ideas from parts of Greek philosophy about spirit and flesh and was inspired to put up with temporary difficulties because he saw the long term eternal nature of Christ: “for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties.

In many respects, despite Easter, we are still in the world of Ecclesiastes, under the sun. Imperfect people acutely aware that the world falls short of what if could be. Still seeing God through a glass, darkly.

All three reactions are probably still part of a normal believer’s life at different times, coping strategies for chronic personality traits or current temptations:

– Ecclesiastes: observe the madness around you, but don’t let it drive you too crazy. Enjoy the things that are good, do a good days work and sleep sound.

– Jesus: do what you can, with God’s help, to make things better. Start building heaven on earth: tell the good news, fight for justice, model love.

– Paul: try to disregard the flesh, suffering will pass. Tune out to the world, tune into eternity.

Ecclesiastes 3

Oh chapter 3! Each bit feels like arriving at a moment of significant personal truth, but then at the end I also think “what was that?”

Puts you through the wringer and remains enigmatic. It’s quite an experience.

First there is the time for every purpose under heaven. Can’t help but hit play on the Pete Seeger/Byrds song, ‘turn turn turn’ in your mind’s iPod (unless you’ve absolutely never heard it).

I aways thought it was a cheat the way they added “I swear it’s not too late” after “a time for peace”. I thought “it’s not just about peace”.

But now I like that it ties it to a moment, civil rights and the peace movement of the 1960s. This passage is all about being tied to moments.

It’s such an evocative piece of writing.

It’s clearly about time, but also dancing on one spot, not making progress, because the series of opposites balance or cancel each other. A time to gather stones, a time to cast away stones. One day the stones matter, another day, they don’t.

You get its pattern straight away, and that rhythm creates a space in which your mind can wander and personalise the examples.

So it’s different every time you read it. Today I might think a about notre dame cathedral burning down, or how my son is slipping through my fingers and I can’t seem to connect with him, or regret not being more successful in the worlds terms, and mildly resent it.

Read it again tomorrow and your mind will go a bunch of different places.

Today it also reminded me of my mother’s use of the word “philosophical”. As in “I don’t like it, but I’m trying to be philosophical about it”

She wasn’t unique in using it to mean “coming to terms with a less than desirable outcome”. But it was while talking to her that I first wondered “how did the word for all the world’s collected efforts to understand the meaning of life become a word for shrugging your shoulders when things are out of your control?”

And at the same time, that memory gives me a warm sense of maternal comfort from beyond the grave.

Which is typical of the honest and emotional – cathartic I suppose – places this passage always takes me. While also supporting the general argument that life goes in ultimately meaningless circles.

Whew. Then comes the amazing bit!

How we are tortured by eternity. Because we can imagine it, conceive it – God put it there right in our hearts. But we live animal lives that just end one day. We are tied to time. And not.

That’s why “meaningless” is not a good enough translation for the frustration and restlessness the writer feels. If life were genuinely meaningless, it would be easier. He almost envies animals when he asks rhetorically if we aren’t the same? But the original word, Hevel, has the sense of life seeming like it’s going to mean something, but the meaning lying just beyond our grasp. Wisps of smoke.

I love that verse, it describes the human condition so perfectly. It explains almost everything. You can’t write off the Bible if it contains that verse, without telling yourself a lie.

Then the rest of the chapter talks about enjoying what you do have, and living a good life, calling out injustice because what little we know of eternity is the glimpses we have revealed to us of God’s unchanging character. He is just. He will will bring judgement for those wronged.

The writer seems to arrive at “We can’t know for certain what will happen when we die, but we do know what is good”.

And I have to get breakfast. Or should I say “a time for blogging, a time for tea”.

And to pray? Does God get a look in?

Too much! Use of time, relationships, mourning and dancing – connecting to eternity.

Psalm 90

Book 4 of psalms starts with a song by Moses. A commentator said there was some argument as to whether it was THE Moses, but it certainly wouldn’t surprise me. It’s exactly the emotions the wilderness leader would be feeling after a life on the trek from Egypt.

He’s so tired, and aware of the mortality of man compared to God. He’s seen so many Israelites perish before reaching the promised land, and he too will. He sees God’s mountains on the horizon.

He refers to metaphors of our lives’ ephemeral nature: dust, and new morning grass that withers by afternoon.

Letting go of the literal promised land, he’s learned that the Lord is his dwelling place.

It all leads to his request that God will teach him to number his days, making his heart wise.

Being aware of deity, of eternity is the key difference between his life and that of grass. Seeing our life span as a scene from a continuum, a snapshot freeze frame from God’s eternity, gives each day a value and a context.

He finishes by praying that God’s deeds among them, the work they have done in his name, will live on.

And it did. The exodus linked to the Easter story and remains one of the Bible’s most potent examples of God’s salvation.

Last week we were on the sidelines of a decision to end the days of a much loved dog.

Dogs don’t number their days. He got up every day and did doggy things. As the end came, he was not aware of his relatively great age or his cancer. You could see it increasingly interrupt and restrict his ability to do his doggy things till they became just a tiny part of his day, that he limped through.

He was a splendid part of God’s works in his way, but he was not aware of a long life compared to a short, of an eternity or a legacy after his death. He fully lived his doggy days, and the grief his family felt was a human experience that crossed over with his. They connected, and both conceptions of the meaning of life and love were still only a shadow of God’s understanding.

As less and less is unpredictable in my days for a season, as they seem to speed by, may I number them, and gain some wisdom in my heart.