Ezekiel 38

Leave it to heaven.

This is about Gog and Magog. Gog a leader, Magog a place.

They are easily mythologised as hostile nations. Ezekiel says they will attack the restored Israel. They return in the book of Revelation, in a final battle that is the end of opposition to God’s rule.

Islamic texts refer to them as well, as unruly attackers of civilisation. Vikings.

Ironically it’s the Islamic nations who would be seen as unruly today, by Christians affearded of attack. And the LGBTQI lobby can get pretty hostile, not entirely without cause.

Whatever; the message is that God will not be thwarted by hostile nations. God will be victorious, hostility will suffer defeat.

Another approach is not to let difference breed hostility.

Christians who aren’t afraid of multiculturalism or xenophobic, and moderate Islamic people… (pretty much all Muslims in Australia), are able to agree to differ, embrace tolerance and get along just fine.

Radical Muslims and their Christian equivalents: racists who regard the loss of Anglo Saxon dominance as an existential threat to their safety and culture, are sources of hostility.

With LGBTQI issues, I think there ought to be scope for a range of Christian attitudes, from thinking it’s a non issue to thinking queer lifestyles are not god’s plan, which don’t involve hostility. Abortion is not god’s plan, divorce is not, any heterosexual sex, even lustful thoughts, outside of marriage, is not god’s plan.

We need to leave the judgement to God. No matter how dimly we view any of those things, we need to stay Kingdom-focussed and grace focussed. Who did Jesus view as hostile, other than the chisler money-changers in the temple, the Pharisees and the Sadducees?

He wept for the people, who were like sheep in need of a shepherd, forgave the roman overlords (they don’t know what they are doing), watched the rich young ruler walk away sadly, and in his story the Samaritan was the neighbour.

Ezekiel 36

“He’s got the whole world in his hands”

It’s the start of the sugar. Reading the prophets, there’s so much death and destruction, you hang out for the sweet stuff.

The land has been emptied, but this is about hope for the mountains. Hope starts with the land itself.

Disappointed pilgrims observed over the years that the mountains of Israel are no great shakes. It’s quite a harsh, stony, dusty land.

But god’s blessing will make it bloom, will return the people and have them flourish.

Rain will cleanse the land of spiritual betrayal, the idols. Rain, beautiful rain. We don’t get that any more here.

The people’s hard hearts will be replaced with hearts of flesh. Beating, living hearts.

In every sense metaphorical and literal, God’s wonderful unique creative power of life will abound.

Oh dear God, our land is not beyond your blessing, our hearts are not beyond caring.

As it dries, bakes and burns more than we’ve ever known, and we argue and blame, and build more coal mines.

Give us hearts of flesh, send sweet rain to wash us of our idols.

I wrote a song that used this passage for the chorus and Ephesians 4 for the verse.  Goodness me, I’m a try hard! Almost 15 years ago now. Not one of my best,  but the beating heart and the anticipation of the rain are there.

 

Ezekiel 24

Signs for the very day of Jerusalem’s siege. Ezekiel had been prophesying for almost 10 years when Jerusalem finally fell to the Babylonians.

He has two prophetic signs.

A cooking pot, described in ghastly terms, an arbitrary mix of dead flesh in it, scum coming out, an intense fire fuelled by bones, so intense that it chars and melts the pot itself. The destruction of the city and the people.

His wife dies. The loss of a cherished beautiful living loved one, echoing the destruction of the temple. The ending of God’s presence. Ezekiel is allowed to show no sign of mourning, and the Israelites are to do the same when the official news comes though about the temple.

Living among the Babylonians already, it will show them presumably that there is something bigger afoot, God is in control still somehow.

Always in calamity, in the worst you can imagine, the deepest loss, the most deserved fall: hope, plans.

Ezekiel 21

This chapter has one big terrifying idea. Babylon is the sword of God drawn and unleashed against Israel. The thing most terrible, seemingly most unlike God, is part of his plan.

The doctrine of original sin makes god’s accommodation of evil and chaos inevitable.

Humanity has this spiritual and emotional overlay on top of natural functions.

Animals and plants reproduce. Humans fall in love, have lust and desire. We build a million things of beauty and ugliness on top of mere reproduction.

Likewise, nature replenishes. Things die, things are born. Things eat and get eaten.

With eternity in our hearts, we imagine our ancestors and our future generations. Our imagination fuels empires, noble and cruel. More than simply surviving, we have lives of generosity and greed driving us though our life span.

Made in god’s image, we think individuals matter. But we rise up and are cut down like grass.

Jesus lived in our perpetually unresolved state, eternal and mortal. God knows all about it.

Yet still it shocks. I recoil from god’s sword of judgement. It’s supposed to terrify me, and it does.

Ezekiel 19

The theologically correct response to bad leadership.

It’s a lament, a song expressing sadness over the last Kings of Israel. I think it is part prophesy, as one king had not experienced the failure of his leadership yet.

The first two are compared to lion cubs that fall into traps, and the third to a fruitful vine that, ironically is burned to uselessness by a fire lit by a staff made of is own wood.

The change of metaphor signifies that the first two Kings, Jehoahaz and Jehoiachin were not of the line of David.

The lament calls them Princes of Judah, as opposed to the third, Zedekiah, who is described as of the vine from the glory days of David and Solomon, when the southern kingdom of Judah and Israel were one.

They are all Kings that I just wrote off as pathetic when I read Kings and Chronicles. But to the Israelites who lived though the cruel 3 month reign of Jehoahaz, he was the leader, he briefly represented hope. King is a role which parallels in many ways that of God.

Sadness, singing of how far things are from right. That is a good response to the failure of human leadership.

Anger can galvanise you to action… occasionally. But it must subside to indignation and outrage to be effective, because it only harms you in the long run to live in the grip of the emotion of anger. Surely.

Lament is the start of the process of pointing the frustrations of this wrongness back to God.

They hoped in these kings in some small way, or at very least were poignantly reminded of a time when they could trust in them.

I feel it strongest when narratives won’t be neat. When dumb decisions are made. When you can see the happy ending but it won’t just fall into place, whether it’s affecting you or others. The sadness of the fall.

Ezekiel 13

These chapters are each a “word of the Lord” and end with “then you you know that I am Lord”, a phrase I associate with an almighty thud, like an anvil falling in a Warner brothers cartoon.

Today’s will be the exposure of false prophets, the ones who are selling comfort and peace.

Those are good things, unless they are works of the imagination that mislead people, give them false hope, are motivated by being invested in the power and wealth structures of the status quo, and lead people to act against their own best interests.

Climate change deniers come to mind, in the modern world.

In the church I suppose wishy washy theology comes to mind, people who know more than they let on about the love of Jesus, because of the gospel’s tendency to divide opinion. There are some prices too high for a positive vibe.

And I don’t say that easily, as someone who values it more than many.

A lot of the chapter is taken up with a wall metaphor. Very apt, considering they lived in a walled city under threat of siege.

God talks about the folly of whitewashing over weaknesses to gain false comfort, rather than acknowledging risk and danger, and actually making a strong wall.

As someone who has always lived in old houses in a termite prone area, I know all about walls that are held together just by paint. It’s amazing how plausible they can look, and how easily they crumble.

I got cathartic with my boss at work yesterday at our regular meeting, and it felt like such a good thing. I’m a conflict avoider, and he’s worse! He wasn’t going to raise it. But I jumped in at the end. We’ve been struggling, and the whitewash of smiley patter just hasn’t been cutting it.

I think we strengthened the wall, I hope so.

Ezekiel 10

In this chapter the glory of the Lord literally leaves the temple. The big throne thing from chapter one collects it.

It is like a cloud, it goes from the holy of holies to the threshold and then it departs altogether.

The Messenger who marked the faithful people to skip destruction in the last chapter takes coals from the big throne-with-wheels thing and spreads them about the city.

This predicts the burning of the city, which did in fact happen a few years later. The bitter pill the Israelites have to swallow is that the judgement may be executed by invaders but it comes comes from God.

The sermon on Sunday was about losing your religion. From John 29:10, how we are sheep that can’t be snatched from God.

The key thing being that faith is on our part governed by free will. Nothing external can separate us from God, but we can choose to. And nothing outside of ourselves will put the belief back into us. But we can always choose that.

Most of the Israelites have chosen to worship the sun instead of God, in his own temple. But those who have despaired at those choices are kept from destruction by God’s mark.

God, Father I can understand, mostly, the challenges before me. But I really don’t understand your plans for those who choose to reject you. You have revealed your character, and that I love. And trust.

Psalm 99

I’ve now realised these are called the ‘enthronement Psalms’. From 93-100.

There is speculation that the collection was used at the feast of the tabernacles, a festival where Jewish people gather and eat and/or sleep for a week in booths; tents, to celebrate harvest by mimicking the traditional sleeping arrangements for farmers, and to recall the exodus journey.

It was a joyous feast and these are certainly joyous Psalms.

This one mentions Gods rule over all nations, but mainly remembers some greats of Jewish history: Jacob, Moses, Aaron & Samuel.

I’ve been thinking a bit about Christian music recently. I had a conversation with a Swiss piano player guy about it last week at church, and he was airing old grievances about the narrow focus of so many modern songs.

To check that it wasn’t just prejudice talking, I analysed the top ten fave BBC hymns of praise, to represent traditional taste and stats of the top ten currently being sung in churches, to represent modern.

9 out of 10 of the modern group had god’s goodness/majesty as the subject matter, 5 of 10 the traditional songs were about living godly lives (eg: make me a channel of your peace) and generally a much wider range of subject matter and theme.

The Hillsong type songs are almost exclusively enthronement songs like these. And the limitations I’ve been pondering in both connect.

Gods reign is actually not that evident. The devil may have been dealt a decisive blow at Calvary but he’s still at large, evil is still in our world and in our hearts.

Jesus made it clear how to respond to this: ask for forgiveness, seek god’s kingdom.

In every one of these Psalms, god’s reign is exciting because it is one of rightness, justice and equity. Which is a clue about seeking Gods kingdom.

Also in most if not all – haven’t specifically checked – the world trembles or shakes.

The majesty is there in those modern songs, and the humbling thrill of personally experiencing god’s love.

Our role in living as citizens of God’s Kingdom by seeking justice and equity throughout the world? Not so much.

Job 6

Job responds to the last two chapters over the next two chapters. This one addresses the friend’s arguments. Next chapter he seems to return to thinking about his situation.

First he addresses their criticisms of his language… Of course he’s been a bit salty!

He goes further and says how he’s longed for death, just so he’d die without denying God’s words. They are underestimating how little strength he has not to curse God. He has no fight in him at all.

He’s making them aware how deep their lack of empathy is.

By the way, Job is an experience, it’s so well done! I have to read it a couple of times to get my concentration in, but it’s not actually difficult. It deserves to be just read, it is the prime experience of it, a summary is so much less.

So next he assures his friends he has not got some great hidden sin, he accuses them of being fair weather friends, of just being afraid of his misfortune – which is so true, sometimes people treat misfortune like it’s contagious, or need to assert a sense of control over life by saying it’s somehow deserved.

He ends this section saying ‘look at me! It’s your ol pal speaking, I’m not lying!’ I’m certainly not prepared for how precisely – and freshly- this ancient poem pinpoints my foibles.

I have lots of opportunities to comfort those suffering various kinds of misfortune at church, at work, even at home. Job’s message is:

don’t fear me,

don’t get desensitised to my words so they mean nothing to you.

I do crave honesty, but don’t give me facile, dismissive answers.

Don’t be unreliable.

Don’t fight the truth that I am the same as you: there but for the grace of God…

Time to pray.

Psalm 53

Almost identical to psalm 14. It’s an adaptable song a bit like happy birthday, except you substitute a reference to your current problem at the end instead of a person’s name.

Last time I wrote a lot about atheism. This time I got distracted at how the goal posts keep shifting on who’s ‘good’/believers and who’s ‘bad’/unbelievers.

It seems clear when it talks about the ‘fool who says in his heart there is no God’. Atheists, or in their day practical atheists who follow religion as a custom but don’t believe it in their heart.

But its less clear when it goes on to say everyone is corrupt, emphatically: no one does good, and no one seeks God.

And indeed, ‘believers’ continue to sin. We are scarcely seeking God when we are lying, cheating, lusting, resenting, being cowards for God, are we?

Then the goal posts seem to move again and it talks about the ‘evildoers’, who are attacking them, who will be beaten by fear.

We’ve seen again and again God’s favourite and most convenient shortcut to a military victory is to fill the enemy with unfounded fear, so they retire in confusion, or worse, destroy each other.

I like how David doesn’t really argue for God. He is confident that unbelief is a self deception, which will run aground on facts.

But that response to attack requires the most faith. The Israelites had to literally do nothing but trust God. Which can be terrifying. Fear and fools on their side too.

So you have a scenario of an impending attack on Israel, and David is saying: none of us are good, none of us deserve to win. We can be fools like our attackers and not trust God, or call on him.

You may call yourself a ‘believer’, but we are basically all the same evil hearted beings. Calling on God to overcome fear, trusting him for the crisis, is the thing.

David was clearly longing for Jesus, the one uncorrupt man. We know him, but the psalm still rings true. So many Christians prefer to trust politics for the crisis, for instance.

And I’m worried about my future, and my family. Let’s see how I go.