Absalom (part 13)

The only blood that was shed throughout the entirety of the time in which the plagues of Egypt ran their course was that of the lambs that were shed on behalf of the households of Israel.  The only bloodshed that preceded deliverance and exodus was that of sacrifice.  What bloodshed can be seen in the run-up to Absalom’s insurrection?  Only that of sacrifice---when Absalom offered sacrifices in Hebron (2 Samuel 15:12).  Quite rightly, if one desires to take a step here to make a connection to Jesus, Jesus could have spoken to a people that considered themselves to be a people in exile, under oppression, and reminded them that their God delivered their nation and gave them exodus without the people having to rise up in rebellion in order to cast off that yoke.   

Following the death of the firstborn in Egypt, Pharaoh sent Israel out of the land.  Their exodus was begun through the intervention of the Creator God alone.  Israel did not have to resort to the force of arms for even a single moment.  Neither did Absalom.  David departed from Jerusalem, going into exile much like Pharaoh, his army, and the land of Egypt (which was soon to be over-run by the Amalekites), and Absalom entered into Jerusalem without having to physically raise his hand against his father (15:37). 

Absalom could use this fact to point out that yes, Israel’s God was showing favor upon him, and by extension showing favor to Israel---delivering a kingdom into his hand.  This could have been used as evidence that he had, in fact, been raised up like Moses, and that David had been deposed from the position of power, much like Pharaoh.  Beyond that, Absalom could make it very clear that he did not lift up his hand against the Lord’s anointed, following the noble example that had been set by his previously non-oppressive father, who, when given the opportunity to act otherwise, had refrained from striking out against Saul. 

Back to David and back to his exilic experience, this study meets up with him as he “reached  Bahurim” (16:5).  “There a man from Saul’s extended family named Shimei son of Gera came out, yelling curses as he approached.  He threw stones at David and all of King David’s servants, as well as all the people and the soldiers who were on his right and left.  As he yelled curses, Shimei said, “Leave!  Leave!  You  man of bloodshed, you wicked man!  The Lord has punished you for all the spilled blood of the house of Saul, in whose place you rule.  Now the Lord has given the kingdom into the hand of your son Absalom.  Disaster has overtaken you, for you are a man of bloodshed!’” (16:5b-8) 

Those that were with David, quite understandably, did not appreciate being cursed at and having stones thrown at them.  One of them, Abishai, who was ever the loyal fellow, said “Why should this dead dog curse my lord the king?  Let me go over and cut off his head!” (16:9b)  Not only did David not allow him to do this, he said “If he curses because the Lord has said to him, ‘Curse David!’, who can say to him, ‘Why have you done this?’” (16:10b)  To that David added, “Leave him alone so that he can curse, for the Lord has spoken to him.  Perhaps the Lord will notice my affliction and this day grant me good in place of his curse” (16:11b-12).  With his final remark, and its mention of affliction, the reader is offered a small glimpse of David’s insight into this exile. 

Absalom (part 12)

This exile that David was experiencing had several of the marks of the curses promised in Deuteronomy.  The author reports: “As David was going up the Mount of Olives, he was weeping as he went; his head was covered and his feet were bare.  All the people who were with him also had their heads covered and were weeping as they went up” (2 Samuel 15:30).  Does this not sound like the way that slaves would be carried off by a conquering foe?  Is it possible to find this paralleled in Deuteronomy?  There one reads of “hunger, thirst, nakedness, and poverty” (28:48a). 

David, with all of his riches, was fleeing Jerusalem with nothing.  In fact, this is evidenced by the fact that shortly thereafter, “Ziba, the servant of Mephibosheth… had a couple of donkeys that were saddled, and on them were two hundred loaves of bread, a hundred raisin cakes, a hundred baskets of summer fruit, and a container of wine” (16:1b), so as to provide for the king and his people during their journey into exile for lack of faithfulness to their covenant responsibilities. 

In the midst of the travel of his travail, David, having begun to recognize where his faults had been and what it was that had brought him to this horrible predicament, begins to strategize.  He has already sent the Ark of the Covenant back to Jerusalem for good reason, and implores the Creator God to turn the advice of one of his chief advisers, Ahithophel, who was now supporting and advising Absalom, into foolishness.  In addition, he employed the priests, Zadok and Abiathar, to serve as his spies within Jerusalem. 

As David begins to remember the God of Israel and His faithfulness, he also begins to be fully cognizant of the exilic nature of what is happening to him, and vice versa.  No doubt this experience is going to serve him well, if in fact his God does restore him to the throne, which at this point was certainly not a foregone conclusion.  Remember, even if David is removed from the throne, the promise is that the God of Israel would make a dynasty of his house, which he could very well do through Absalom, who, at this point, has carried out a successful rebellion and insurrection without shedding any blood. 

In considering that, it is worth once again making note of the strategy which might very well have been being employed by Absalom.  Absalom has, quite possibly, positioned himself as a new Moses that is leading a new exodus for Israel, with a delivery from a new Pharaoh, that being David, who had become an oppressor in Israel.  Remember, Israel began to suffer oppression in Egypt when a Pharaoh came to power that did not know Joseph. 

Naturally, it was not so much that said Pharaoh did not know Joseph,  but more that he had forgotten what had been wrought on behalf of Egypt, with Egypt gaining an empire through the power and deliverance of the God of Joseph and Israel.  In making his case, Absalom could certainly point to David’s less than just actions and point out that David had forgotten the faithful, powerful, delivering, kingdom giving God of Israel---the very God that had delivered David from Saul and from his own earlier time of exile and oppression.          

Furthermore, as one examines the potential of Absalom positioning himself as a new Moses and leading a new exodus, it should be remembered that Israel’s Egyptian exodus was carried out with no bloodshed.  Moses had attempted such and failed, earning only a personal exile which eventually resulted in his calling by the covenant God.  Israel did not rise up en masse to overthrow and defeat Egypt by means of violence.  They did not have to resort to war.  Rather, their God worked for them.  The Creator God brought Egypt low through plagues and the eventual death of the firstborn.  

Corinth's Communion (part 12)

Paul first writes concerning the bread, reporting the words of Jesus that “This is My body, which is for you” (11:24).  He does this after first mentioning that Jesus had taken bread, given thanks, and broke the bread (11:24).  Then he goes on to indicate that “every time you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until He comes” (11:26).  Continuing on to what would eventually be designed as the twenty-seventh verse of the chapter (it’s worth pointing out every once in a while that there were no chapter and verse divisions in the original letter, which serves as a reminder that the letter asks to be read as a letter, in a sing sitting), Paul again speaks of bread, with the verse closing out with “the body and blood of the Lord” (11:28b).  This calls attention to and reaffirms the symbolic nature of the bread, as it stands in for the body of Jesus.  In the twenty-ninth verse, Paul writes “the one who eats and drinks,” omitting but clearly implying the bread and the cup, “without careful regard for the body eats and drinks (the bread and the cup again implied though omitted) judgment against himself” (11:29). 

Changing gears a bit, the insistence that follows, in which Paul reasons “that is why many of you are weak and sick, and quite a few are dead” (11:30), along with “if we examined ourselves, we would not be judged” (11:31), “but when we are judged by the Lord, we are disciplined so that we may not be condemned with the world” (11:32), the address to “my brothers and sisters” (11:33a), and the final addition of “when you come together to eat, wait for one another” (11:33b), seems to indicate a change of focus.  Paul is, it would appear, speaking to the group again. 

Taking that into consideration, a re-reading of the twenty-ninth verse, in which Paul makes two implicit references to the bread and the cup while also mentioning “the body,” should arouse some curiosity.  To which body is Paul referring?  Is he here using “body” in the same way that he used it in the twenty-fourth and twenty-eighth verses?  If so, why the multiple implied references to the bread and the cup in verse twenty-nine, with a sudden shift to the body, if “body” here is to be taken as yet another reference to the bread? 

The Greek word that is in usage has a minor variation, sharing the same root, so it is incumbent upon the hearer to tease out the subtle shift that has taken place in this verse.  It is unlikely that the original audience, immersed in the situation that is being addressed, would have missed out on this shift.  Paul’s use of “body” here has been shifted away from a reference to the bread of the communion table, and has been re-directed and used in reference to the body of believers---the church to which Paul writes.  This causes the usage to fit well with the words that began to be directed to the group, as Paul confers his attention upon the congregational body. 

At first glance, this seems like a strange conclusion, but when the larger context (the whole of the letter) into which the treatment of the subject fits is reconsidered, and when one listens to the letter in a single sitting, with those problems within the church as a whole top of mind, then what seems like a strange conclusion becomes not so strange at all.  When considering the genius in what he is doing, never forget that Paul is a thoroughly trained and gifted rhetorician.  He is highly skilled in argumentation.  He is quite capable of building a case for his teachings through a sustained narrative in which pieces function as essential building blocks.  His letter to the Romans is probably the finest example of these studiously acquired skills.  Just as Israel identified itself according to its own historical narrative, and just as Jesus saw and fit Himself within that narrative of the Creator God’s redemptive plan for the restoration of His good creation, Paul goes to great lengths to provide the recipients of his letters with a narrative structure that will aid in their coming to terms with that which he is attempting to communicate. 

Calling Down Fire (part 5 of 6)

So, given the prevailing sense of the “Roman peace” (pax Romana) when Jesus’ disciples arrive in a village and in a house and say “May peace be on this house,” one can almost imagine them being met with some trepidation.  Again, this is not un-familiar.  It is not difficult to envision the people, as they receive this greeting, thinking “Great, more peace,” as they entertain what they know and perhaps have experienced to be Caesar’s notion of peace. 

Then, when those same disciples go out into the public square and begin speaking of the kingdom of the Creator God that has come upon them (heaven has invaded earth and the Creator God is ruling the world through the true Son of God, Jesus the Christ of Nazareth), that message of peace, coupled with kingdom, could very well continue to invoke thoughts of Rome’s crushing domination and their means of establishing peace and extending their kingdom.  This, of course, is where attentiveness to the sick comes in as being dramatically important to the kingdom message, as it was and would never cease to be a distinctive badge worn by the disciples of the Christ. 

Naturally, the distinction is drawn because the usual, traveling preacher would pay little if any attention to the sick, as there would be almost nothing to be gained from them financially.  Similarly, the Caesar or his representative also cared little to nothing for the sick, as those that were sick to the point of being an unproductive subject of the empire, could very well be looked upon as nothing more than a burden that members of the local populace were all to happy to shift to Rome. 

Still, even with the healing of the sick (conscientiously serving them and attending to their basic needs so that they might recover their health and so be healed, and this alongside recoveries that could be described as nothing short of miraculous) accompanying the message of the rule of the Christ on earth, this preaching of the kingdom of God that had come, as indicated and proved out by the Resurrection, could create a natural skepticism and induce a “here we go again” attitude amongst the populace, as they would be fully cognizant of the Caesar’s methods that would be meted out to those that rejected the message. 

In this light, what is it that Jesus tell His disciples?  He says, “whenever you enter a town and the people do not welcome you, go into its streets and say, ‘Even the dust of your town that clings to our feet we wipe off against you’.” (10:11a)  This was a different approach.  This was certainly not a calling down of fire.  Far from it.  When heard within the appropriate context, it hardly even sounds like the invoking of a curse.  Where Caesar would have whetted his sword with blood (which would then need to be wiped off) and left men, women, and children lying in the dusty streets for their rebellion in rejecting him, Jesus suggests a different though significant, symbolic action.  

Joseph & Jesus (part 2)

A bit later, “they looked up and saw a caravan of Ishmaelites coming from Gilead” (37:25b).  We should note that “Ishmaelites” would have been family.  These men would have been related to this group through their great-uncle Ishmael, the brother of their grandfather, Isaac.  This adds an interesting kinship dynamic to the story to go along with the honor competition.  It is said that the Ishmaelites were heading to Egypt, so Judah said “What profit is there if we kill our brother and cover up his blood?  Come, let’s sell him to the Ishmaelites, but let’s not lay a hand on him, for after all, he is our brother, our own flesh” (37:26b-27a).  His brothers agreed to this and struck the deal.  Theoretically, by not killing him, and merely selling him as a slave, his brothers believed that they would have not have his blood on their hands.  We then go on to learn that Reuben was not a party to this, with the narrative indicating that he was quite dismayed upon learning that this had occurred.

Thinking back to the connection between the lives of Joseph and Jesus, we can see that link in the continuing demonstration of Joseph’s brothers’ animosity towards him.  When Jesus is betrayed by Judas, he is betrayed to Jewish leaders.  Ethnically, these would have been Jesus’ brethren.  With the honor and kinship model at play in the ancient world, it would indeed be something of a rare occurrence for members of Israel to willingly turn a fellow Israelite, and especially a messianic claimaint and potential king over to their foreign subjugators.  Thus, the honor competition, and Jesus’ apparent unwillingness to align His movement (and therefore His potential throne) with the powers-that-be of the day, trumped the broad familial tie.  Again, Jesus would accrue too much of the limited good of honor to Himself, and Jesus had not brought any of the ruling authorities into his circle of patronage and clientage.  Thus, He was not only of no use to them, but He also needed to be removed from the honor competition altogether.  Accordingly, they sought to kill Jesus. 

With that desire at play, they were able to successfully bring a charge of blasphemy against Him, which would merit the death penalty.  However, they did not carry out the execution themselves.  Yes, there were restraints on the execution of capital punishment, but this was clearly a special circumstance, and Jesus’ blood was not going to be on their hands.  Rather, they drew Jesus out of the metaphorical (and possibly literal) pit into which he had been placed, and carried Him to the Romans, in order to bring about His demise.  In a sense then, much like Joseph’s brothers believed to be the case when they handed their brother over to those that were effectively foreigners (though related), if the Romans also found Him guilty and carried out the sentence of death, then Jesus’ blood was on them.

Changing gears a bit, and fitting the two stories of Joseph and Jesus into the encompassing Scriptural themes of exile and exodus, it could be said that the entrance of Joseph into Egypt was the beginning of the people of Israel’s sojourn in Egypt.  His presence there marked the beginnings of the first exile from the land of promise, which would be rectified by the exodus under the leadership of Moses a few hundred years later.  Just as Joseph was sold into Egypt by the Ishmaelites, to whom he had been handed by his brothers, Jesus was effectively sold into the exile of death by the Romans, to whom He had been handed by His brethren. 

Though sold into Egypt as a slave, we know that Joseph did not remain a slave.  He first found favor in the house of Potiphar, and then found favor in the eyes of the warden of the prison into which he had been unjustly cast.  Finally, due to what is said to be the Creator God of Israel’s gift to him of dream interpretation, Joseph found favor in the eyes of Pharaoh.  As the story goes, owing to the Spirit that was to be found in Joseph, Pharaoh said to him, “Because God has enabled you to know all this, there is no one as wise and discerning as you are!  You will oversee my household, and all my people will submit to your commands.  Only I, the king, will be greater than you”  (Genesis 41:39b-40). 

Thoughts of Jesus should not be too far removed from our mind upon reading these purported words from Pharaoh.  Bringing in some early post-Christ-era reflections on Jesus, what do we find in the Ephesians letter?  “And God put all things under Christ’s feet, and He gave Him to the church as head over all things” (1:22).  This is thought to be so because the great and powerful Creator God “raised Him from the dead and seated Him at His right hand in the heavenly realms, far above every rule and authority and power and dominion and every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the age to come” (1:20b-21).  This is set forth alongside the idea that there was a people of God, a household of faith, chosen “in Christ before the foundation of the world” (1:4a)---a worldwide family of divine image-bearers that had always been the intention of the Creator.  It is these people, identified by their adherence to the Gospel of Jesus, and their submission to its claim that Jesus Christ is Lord of all, that faithfully submit to the commands of Jesus to love one another and to preach the message of the Gospel, through the enabling power of the Holy Spirit.  There is a household to be overseen.  

Raising A Temple (part 2 of 2)

Why go through all of this analysis of Paul’s sermon in Acts?  We did so because we needed to be able to have some perspective on David, and the fact that David is not there held up as a model for emulation, as we examine his desire to build the Temple.  After expressing his desire to the prophet Nathan, David hears it said to him by that same prophet: “You should go and do whatever you have in mind, for the Lord is with you” (2 Samuel 7:3).  However, it so happens that “That night the Lord told Nathan, ‘Go, tell My servant David: “This is what the Lord says: Do you really intend to build a house for me to live in?  I have not lived in a house from the time I brought the Israelites up from Egypt to the present day.  Instead, I was traveling with them and living in a tent.  Wherever I moved among all the Israelites, I did not say to any of the leaders whom I appointed to care for My people Israel, ‘Why have you not built Me a house of cedar?’”’” (7:4-7) 

This now allows us to return to the issue of motivation, as it is incumbent upon us not to place men like David on a super-spiritual level, but to remember that they were people like us, with fears and insecurities, prone to mistakes, and subject to the corrupting forces that shape any and all interaction with this world.  What’s more is that it is perfectly okay and legitimate to do this, as in the end it gives us an even more amazing picture of a faithful God---which seems to be one of the points of the Bible. 

So what was the motivation to build a Temple?  Through Nathan, God asks David as much, when He says, “Do you really intend to build a house for Me to live in?”  It’s almost as if God was saying, “Is this for Me or for you?”  To answer that, we cannot separate David’s desire to build a Temple from the relief from enemies that the Lord had given to His people and their king, and it is unlikely that the God of Israel separated these things from each other.  What was it that was signified by the temple of a god?  Power.  Prestige.  Authority.  Domination.  This was what Israel now had in their land.  They claimed that their God had given them these things.  However, if other nations and other peoples were to begin to look to Israel and to Israel’s God, which is precisely what the Lord desired, where would they find Him?  In a temple?  No.  They would find Him (in a manner of speaking) in a lowly tent.  This, of course, was not troubling for God.  However, in contact with many nations, Israel knew that such was not the house of a powerful god.  So not only would this invite scorn upon Israel, but with the lack of a glorious display of their God by a beautifully adorned temple, Israel’s position in the land could come to be looked upon as something of a fluke.  This would invite attack.  The tabernacle alone as the place of God’s dwelling could be understood as a source of embarrassment for Israel, as well as an undermining of their security. 

Apart from all of this, one had to consider the items that were to be found in the tabernacle.  There were a number of precious articles that were composed of gold and bronze, and yet, here they were housed in a simple tent.  This position, for a number of reasons, could be understood as untenable, and we can sympathize with David thinking that it needed to be addressed.  Therefore, to rectify the shortcomings of the house of their God, David proposed the construction of a Temple that would more adequately convey, at least in His mind, the power of Israel’s God.  It would seem that the prophet Nathan even succumbed to this idea for a brief period of time before God intervened to dissuade him, and David through him, of what he had encouraged David to do. 

As an aside, we here note that in the ancient world, the temple of a god was understood to be the resting place of that god.  The God of Israel, the Creator of all things, did not need to dwell in an elaborate temple, for the whole of creation was His Temple; and that was the Temple in which He rested on the seventh day, according to the record of Genesis.  Ultimately, God would take up His dwelling in human flesh, and call that His Temple. 

When Solomon would take up the task of building the Temple, it was not strictly because of a stated desire to do so.  He was simply following the instructions given to him by his father, as we find in the first book of the Chronicles (22:7-10).  There, we find David informing Solomon about his desire to build a temple, God’s denial of that desire, the reasons provided for that denial (David was a man of blood and war), and God’s insistence that it would be Solomon himself that would build the Temple to honor God (though this is never explicitly communicated in 2 Samuel---only that David’s son would build a “house” for the name of the Lord).  It is still of great interest to note that, even there in the Chronicles, it is not God that is demanding a temple to be built, but still only David. 

The Scriptural record is clear, in that it is David’s wish to build the Temple in Jerusalem, and this is probably due in large part to David’s desire to consolidate power and increase Israel’s relative security in its land, with an elaborate temple also serving as a witness of the divine sanction of his rule before the people.  So though this was not necessarily God’s doing, God made sure that when His Temple was built---even though David provided much of the supply, the building process would be carried out by a man of peace, wisdom, understanding, and justice (though this last term may be a pit problematic for Solomon in some cases).  These are epithets that are not given to David.  We cannot help but elaborate on this point, and say that the Temple of God that would come to be called the Church of Christ is built by the one known as the Prince of Peace.  It is in such a Temple that God will dwell.      

Solomon & Shimei (part 1 of 3)

Early in his reign, Solomon has Adonijah (his brother) and Joab (general of the army) dispatched.  Following that, Solomon turns his attention to a man named Shimei.  He does so because Shimei is mentioned within his father’s dying words.  David said to Solomon: “Note well, you still have to contend with Shimei son of Gera, the Benjaminite from Bahurin, who tried to call down upon me a horrible judgment when I went to Mahanaim” (1 Kings 2:8a).  This is not entirely true, so David seemed to have been employing exaggeration with some effect.  What Shimei is recorded to have said to David was “Leave!  Leave!  You man of bloodshed, you wicked man!  The Lord has punished you for all the spilled blood of the house of Saul, in whose place you rule.  Now the Lord has given the kingdom into the hand of your son Absalom.  Disaster has overtaken  you, for you are a man of bloodshed!” (2 Samuel 16:7) 

Apart from a subjective rhetorical flourish when Shimei declares that the Lord is punishing David for the spilled blood of the house of Saul, this cursing by Shimei rings true.  David was not punished for bloodshed related to the house of Saul, but rather, it was the blood spilled within his own house (Absalom’s slaying of Amnon as a result of Amnon’s rape of Tamar), as well as the blood spilled by his own command (David using Israel’s enemies to have Uriah murdered), that had led to the situation which gave Shimei the opportunity to speak forth such words.  Beyond the improper of attribution of the spilling of blood there mentioned, it is difficult to find fault with Shimei’s message to David.  At that point, since David was fleeing Jerusalem, Absalom, by all appearances, had taken the kingdom.  With the peaceful transfer of power, one could easily look upon Absalom’s taking of the throne as having divine sanction. 

With regard to referring to David as a man of bloodshed, it must be said that Shimei does not appear to be incorrect in his assessment.  If we were to look ahead to the first book of the Chronicles, we would there find a record of David speaking to Solomon and saying “My son, I really wanted to build a temple to honor the Lord my God.  But the Lord said to me: ‘You have spilled a great deal of blood and fought many battles.  You must not build a temple to honor Me, for you have spilled a great deal of blood on the ground before Me” (1 Chronicles 22:7-8).  Apparently, God Himself referred to David as a man of bloodshed. 

It’s useful here to consider, if the blood David spilled in battle was (according to the Scriptural record) almost entirely at the Lord’s direction, why that same God would use the fact of spilled blood as a reason to bar David from building His Temple.  The most likely reason is that a temple constructed by a king that was known to have waged vigorous military campaigns, and through those campaigns to have extended his territory and his power, would be seen as a temple constructed in honor of a conquering, warring, subjugating god that would bear a great deal of resemblance to the gods of the surrounding nations.  A temple built to honor such a god would simply be one amongst many.  This point is drawn out by what the Lord is reported to have said to David after making mention of his acts of bloodshed, which was “Look, you will have a son, who will be a peaceful man.  I will give him rest from all his enemies on every side.  Indeed, Solomon will be his name; I will give Israel peace and quiet during his reign.  He will build a temple to honor Me; he will become My son, and I will become his Father.  I will grant to his dynasty permanent rule over Israel” (22:9-10). 

The temple to be built by Solomon would not be constructed by a man of war, nor could it be perceived as a symbol of military conquest, which would have been common in that day.  The Temple that would be honoring to God alone (rather than a temple that would be partly honorific for David) would be built by one known as a peaceful man, though the fact that blood was spilled in abundance at the beginning of Solomon’s reign seems a bit troubling in this light.  Nevertheless, this Temple that was to be associated with rest and peace and quiet would be raised into existence by one about whom God spoke of as being His son.  This Temple would be the symbol of a permanent rule over the people of God, and by extension, over the territory occupied by that people.  Here, the analogies to the One that would eventually come, as a Son, in place of the Temple, and Who would raise up an eschatological Temple to God, are so stark and clear that they need not even be detailed. 

Reverting our attention now to David and his directives concerning Shimei that were passed along to Solomon, we find him moving from a recounting of the Shimei situation in connection with his escape from Jerusalem, to his dealings with Shimei upon his return to Jerusalem, and saying “He came down and met me at the Jordan, and I solemnly promised him by the Lord, ‘I will not strike you down with the sword.’” (2:8b).  To this David added, “But now,” speaking to Solomon, “don’t treat him as if he were innocent.  You are a wise man and you know how to handle him; make sure he has a bloody death” (2:9).  In the record of the Kings, these are the final words of David.  Ironically, and in a way that probably indicates that the author wants this to be acknowledged, these last words of David have to do with him calling for the bloody death of the man that had referred to him as a man of bloodshed.