Chapter 4: How to Treat a Snake

Truesdale says, “The transition from instrument to idol is subtle and deadly. Usually, we don’t see it coming” (58). Those words form the foundation of this chapter about Hezekiah and his on religious reform. Often, though, religious reform becomes difficult and painful. It sometimes requires changes that folks aren’t willing to make. And sometimes it requires changes that are so radical that it seems like something essential is being destroyed.

In this chapter, from the perspective of a successful businessman, we can see one such radical call to change that Hezekiah intends to bring about. He was going to destroy an idol. But not a pagan idol of Baal or Asherah, this was something from their past given to them by Yahweh. And the people weren’t happy about it. In their mind, Hezekiah intention was “to disrupt our sacred past, to destroy something essential for our worship of Yahweh” (63). By destroying the bronze serpent Moses fashioned in the Wilderness wandering, Hezekiah was destroying “an irreplaceable reminder of God’s presence and guidance, a sure sign of his salvation” (64). But Hezekiah tells the people that the bronze serpent is at the center of their transgression (66), that they had turned “what was supposed to be a transparent sign [into] a concrete idol” (67).

Once again it seems the meaning is ostensible for the church today, poignantly reflected in the cracks of division that appear along pressure points where past and future converge in the struggle for new and germane meaning. Too easily we can turn transparent signs into concrete idols. Think about some of those things from our “sacred past” that have been for us signs of God’s salvation. Now think about the ways we tend to turn those signs into objects of worship.

Chapter 3: Worship or Manipulation

Chapter 3 invites us into the courtroom scene that takes place in the book of Micah. God brings charges against Israel. They had forsaken the covenant. They had forgotten what it means to be the people of God. Their worship had become self-seeking, a tool to “put God in an agreeable and rewarding frame of mind” (48). Al Truesdale points out that “The commandment not to take the name of the Lord in vain (Exod. 20:7) is a warning against using God’s name for contrived human purposes” (48). A danger in any age.

A couple of key charges God makes against Israel stand out for me. The first is that they have forgotten what it means to be his people (54). I think this is a crucial failure. Understanding what it means to be God’s people can drastically change how we understand what it is to be the church as well as redefining the mission of the church.

The second key charge is that Israel and Judah had failed to “connect worship with love for neighbor” (55). It is somewhat ironic to me that the idea of “worship wars” is even an issue within the church, let alone that it can become so divisive, causing such inimical behavior among those who call themselves family. Perhaps if we could make the connection between worship and love for neighbor, our worship could become truly transformational.

Finally, God asks, “Why do you boast of your religious zeal, when your lives contradict my character?” (56). I suppose this charge sums up the others. Religion, worship, being the church, they are all supposed to reflect God’s character. It’s not a matter of cognitive assent to a particular set of propositions. It’s not a matter of doing this and not doing that. It’s not a matter of which church we go to. It’s simply a matter of as a body of believers, do we reflect God’s character (and it is significant to remember that this is not about individuals, but about communities. We can only be the people of God with others, never as individuals or even as a collection of individuals, only as community.).

So what does God expect? What does it mean to be the people of God, to connect worship with love for neighbor, to reflect God’s character? The answer God gives is startling. God says, “I want you to practice justice, show my kindness of love to others, and walk before me in genuine humility” (57).

Chapter 2: The Baal of Mechanical Piety

In this chapter Al Truesdale brings the prophet Amos into the story of Israel’s seduction to false worship. The focus is on an outward, “mechanical piety.” And the sort of mindset that understand worship as something to placate God and gain a reward. Indeed, in this chapter we see clearly how the Northern Kingdom saw their social, political, and economic prosperity as evidence that God was rewarding their impressive ritual of worship.

They seemed to be doing everything right: carefully nurturing the Mosaic tradition by “observing the great sacrificial ceremonies, feasts, and fasts;” teaching the people “the great convictions of Israel’s faith” (37); religion in the Northern kingdom was squeaky clean, not missing a thing. And the people were responding. Both centers of worship were full as people took their worship serious. From all outward appearances, God was responding favorably to the religion of the people.

But that’s when Amos shows up saying that they “completely misunderstood God’s special calling,” that “apart from covenantal faithfulness, election meant nothing” (40). And Israel had abandoned its responsibility to justice. They were “corrupted by opulence,” their greed was unchecked, they “trampled on the heads of the poor.” For all their attention to worship and religion, their “professed faithfulness to Yahweh did not translate into justice executed on behalf of the defenseless” (42). And so Amos declares that God hates and despises their feasts and solemn assemblies; their praise is little more than “hollow songs” (44). What God truly desires is that “justice [will] pour across the land like a flood, and righteousness [will] flow like and unending stream” (44).

I suppose, for me, the take-away thought in this chapter is that in every age we can allow our worship to become something perfunctory and mechanical. When it becomes an end in which we seek to ingratiate God in order to gain an advantage, the worshipers becomes elevated above the one who is worshiped. Control is wrestled from God, who becomes incidental as the worshiper assumes control.

I realize I’m probably opening a can of worms here, but as I read this chapter I couldn’t help but think about all the rhetoric I have heard (mostly from the “religious right”) about how the only way for America to return to its former prosperity is to regain its former practices of worship. I couldn’t help but wonder if this isn’t exactly where the Northern kingdom was coming from.

Chapter One: The Troubler

Chapter one recounts that very familiar story from 1 Kings 18 when Elijah confronts the prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel. The unique feature of this chapter, though, is the walk with Jubal. Jubal is a (fictitious) 9th century BC farmer from the Northern Kingdom. What makes this walk with Jubal unique is listening to his explanation of why this showdown is so important, and why the Northern Kingdom has found it so easy to worship both Yahweh and Baal. I think I would like to highlight two aspects from this chapter. The first is why worship Baal. And the second is the idea of compartments.

In this chapter, Al Truesdale did a good job showing us that the worship of Baal was not due to the fact that the people were backward and ignorant. Nor were they simply perverted in the lust. We need to remember that all myths (and by myth I do not mean false) about local deities are in their essence a way of explaining the workings of the world. Today we seem to think that because of the elevation of reason during the Enlightenment, and the proliferation of science and scientific discoveries, that we have the tools to really understand how things work. But in reality, our science functions in exactly the same way as did the myths that informed the people back in Elijah’s day. Baal was the best science of the day. It explained how the world worked. And besides that, up until this point, it was effective.

There is something anachronistically arrogant when we dismiss these myths as stupid. Of course, that doesn’t make them right or okay for the people of God, because God told them not to have any other God and not to worship anything or anyone but Yahweh. They knew better, not because they had better science or more intelligence, but because God told them. We are told that it really wasn’t a problem because “it is all matter of respecting boundaries. Some parts of life belong to Yahweh, and some to Baal” (27).

It seems to me that this is the open door that invites idolatry. Whenever we allow our lives to be divided into compartments where God either plays no role or that role is held to a minimum, an idol of some sort will always come around to fill that space. One of the most telling ideas in this chapter for me was when our companion Jubal tells us that Yahweh is the God of power and deliverance, the miracle-working God of the desert. “But that has little to do with the everyday affairs of life such as receiving rain, growing grapes, and paying bills” (27). Today we call that “being relevant.” It made me pause and wonder if the whole idea of being relevant has become an idol. I have a feeling it has.

Into the midst of all this comes the Troubler—Elijah. He tells the people that they cannot have compartments. Yahweh is not a God with boundaries. He gathers everyone on together on Mount Carmel and a showdown. We know what happens. Fire falls, consuming Elijah’s offering. Yahweh is God, Yahweh alone.

I guess the question for me is twofold. Where have I created boundaries/compartments? And where have I allowed the myths of our world to infringe on my exclusive worship of God?

The Scheme

Today I’m just going to look at the introduction, or what the author calls “The Scheme.” Here he sets out the basic premise behind the book: “If Satan can get us to insert inferior interests and motives into our worship, then the Conspiracy will accomplish its goal” (10). And, in short, its goal is to defeat God (10). In order to accomplish this, it “plays upon our blind spots. All of us are vulnerable” (10).

Of course, one has to wonder: can God be defeated? And I suppose that would depend on how you view God and God’s providence. Perhaps another way to say this is: Can God’s will be thwarted, or does God always get God’s way? Or to narrow it down even more: Do humans really have free choice? Does creation have freedom to choose? If we answer that ‘yes,’ than God’s will can be thwarted, and in that sense God can be defeated. Think of it this way: every time someone chooses against God, God suffers a defeat. So in this way God can be defeated; and that is the goal, Truesdale says, of the Baal conspiracy. And “[t]o achieve its goal, it tries to enlist the people of God—those of us who sit in church on Sunday morning or Saturday night—as its agents” (10).

He brings us to Elijah, and how easily Israel became beguiled by the conspiracy. After all, it is what “passed for advanced agricultural science” of the day (12). It explained how things grew, why crops flourished. It helped farmers increase their yield, offering “the key for success in everyday life” (12). Seems innocent enough, but in fact it had a deleterious effect.

Truesdale purposes in the 10 chapters that make the body of the book to expose the nuances of this conspiracy and how subtle it finds its way into the church. He will do so using a sort of historic fiction, bringing us into the lives of the people who made up the events of the Old Testament.

What I would really like to emphasis, though, is his “Word of caution.” We can either read these chapters with a fatuous confidence, noting how these words describe so well everyone else. Or we can read these words in a way that serves to examine our own lives, helping to drive out those furtive idols that linger in our own blind spots. Personally, I want to engage the book in this way and I hope you do as well.

READY, WILLING, AND ABLE

Don’t you think it’s interesting that the one thing the disciples wanted Jesus to teach them to do was to pray? They didn’t ask him to teach them to preach, though they must have heard him preach many, many times. They didn’t ask him to show them how to teach the crowds, though they had seen him instruct literally thousands of people. They didn’t ask him to teach them how to heal the sick or how to cast out demons, though they had seen him do so. No, the one thing they wanted to learn from Jesus was how to pray.
No doubt they had watched as he drew aside from the great crowds of people that gathered wherever he went. Usually it was early in the morning or late at night that he drew aside to find a secluded spot, a place to pray. And no doubt the disciples had sensed something very different both in the way Jesus prayed and the affects of his prayers. There must have been something starling, powerful, and even awesome that took place whenever Jesus prayed. For all the miracles and wonders they had seen in the time they spent with Jesus, it was his times of prayer that were to them the most significant. It was the time he spent alone with his Father that seemed to be the most impressive. And so they asked him “Lord Teach us to pray.”
You know, as I’ve thought about prayer and what this Scripture says about prayer, I think I’ve come to the conclusion that prayer greatly depends on two things. First, is the character of the one to whom we pray. And of course, as Christians we pray to the living and all powerful God whose essence and character is perfect love. So this first aspect of prayer is really beyond our control. But the second one isn’t. The second one is our understanding of the character of the one to whom we pray. It is how we see God, how we understand his nature. And I think this is what Jesus is getting at in this section of Luke. He’s helping us to understand God’s nature when it comes to prayer.
You see, God wants us to come to him. He tells us to “ask, seek, and knock.” He invites us to come to him through prayer and allow him to mend the hole in our lives… to fix what has become broken. Only God can do that. Only God can fill the void that is in our soul. Anything else is just an illusion... an illusion of peace… an illusion of happiness… an illusion of satisfaction. Unfortunately, though, illusions often create very real dangers.
We’ve all heard stories about the person lost in a desert who is dying of thirst. And as she claws her way across the sand, she sees reflected on a sand dune what looks like an oasis. It’s only a mirage; it’s not real. But the illusion is so intense and vivid because her need is so strong and so real that she actually tries to drink the sand.
Though most omit it from Luke’s version of this story, there are some manuscripts that have, “If a child asks for bread would you give him a stone.” The answer is, “Of course not.” But still, there are similarities between a loaf of bread and what a smooth, round stone may look like. And after all, wasn’t it the stones that Satan used to tempt Jesus to turn into bread in order to satisfy his hunger? There must be something in the appearance of bread and a smooth, desert stone that’s very similar. But there is also a big difference.
You see, one o f the dangers of living with illusions is that there is no satisfaction in it. The stone may look like bread, but it isn’t bread. And because it isn’t bread, the satisfaction it offers isn’t real. It’s an illusion that in the end leaves us feeling empty.
How many stories do we need to hear of the rich and the famous taking their own lives because they weren’t satisfied? They had everything—or at least everything this world could offer—and yet they were empty.
That’s because the things that the world offers to us are only stones, illusions, they’re not real. What we need is bread, not stones. Jesus said that he was the living bread that came down from heaven, and that those who partake of this bread shall never die. He said that he was the bread of life, and whoever comes to him shall never be hungry. Only Jesus is able to satisfy our deepest need.
I was once told by someone who grew up in Columbia that high in up in the mountains of that country, where the coca plant grew, the local villagers would chew on the leaves of that tree in order to ease their hunger pains. It is from those leave that the narcotic cocaine is derived. They would chew the leaves, usually with a bit of lime to increase the effectiveness to suppress their appetite. But it couldn’t satisfy the hunger, it could only mask it. And if the person didn’t eat, eventually they would die. The illusion couldn’t keep them alive; it could only hide the pain.
And so Luke’s main point comes with the questions: “If your child asks for a fish will [you] give a snake instead of a fish? Or if the child asks for an egg, will [you] give a scorpion?” And again the answer is, “Of course not.” Both the sting of a scorpion and the bight of a snake are serious, and both have the potential to kill. One of the very real dangers of an illusion is, not only does it not satisfy, but it is spiritually fatal as well.
Spiritual fatality comes when our focus is taken off of God and placed on this world and what this world can give. And once that separation takes place, we are in essence spiritually dead. The venom of illusion always seeks to kill that which would draw us to God. It always tries to keep us from turning to God. It prevents us from asking, seeking or knocking. It keeps us from prayer.
But when we do come to God in prayer we find that what God offers to us is not an illusion, but something very, very real. And not only is it not an illusion, but what God gives is always the very best. And it is always more than enough.
Just look at the story of the wedding feast in Canna. The wedding was in full swing when the host ran out of wine. In that time and culture, this would have been disastrous. But at the request of his mother, Jesus turned six water pots full of water into wine. And not just any cheap wine, but as the host of the party said, it was the best wine.
Or what about the little group of followers that was caught on the back side of the Sea of Galilee? It was late in the day, there was no McDonalds around, no 7-11, nothing… just desert. Jesus took the small sack lunch of a little boy and he fed five-thousand men and their families. Not only did they eat until they were full, but as the disciples cleaned up, they were able to fill twelve baskets with leftovers.
Or what about the time by the Sea of Galilee when Jesus told Simon to push out into deep water and throw down his net for a catch of fish? Simon obeyed and had such a catch that it started to break his nets. When he called for help they soon had both boats so full that they both began to sink.
And what about your own life? How many times can you look back and see the hand of God providing when there seemed to be no possible way? And isn’t it always the case that God’s provision in those times turns out to be the very best?
That brings us to God’s ultimate gift; God’s ultimate provision for us. Jesus says if we being evil know how to give good gifts to our children, “how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him?”
Now this is the ultimate gift. It is the gift that goes beyond our everyday need and reaches to our ultimate need—our need for God. What greater gift could God give than to give God’s self. That is what God has done on the cross. And that is what God continues to do through the Holy Spirit.
Humanity’s deepest desire has always been to find fulfillment and peace. But it’s a desire that can never be realized by anything we can have apart from God. “What benefit would it be if we could gain the world but in the end loose our soul?”
You see, that’s the point. Jesus said, “Peace I leave you; my peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you.” The peace Jesus gives is one which the world can never know because it is a peace that originated in the heart of God. It is a peace that can never be realized apart from God, a peace that surpasses all understanding. It is a kenotic peace, one secured at Calvary.
Humanity’s need for fulfillment and peace can only be found in the self-giving God’s gift given through the cross. It is a gift we are called to imitate.
The apostle Paul says, “So then, brothers and sisters, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh—for if you live according to the flesh, you will die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live. For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received a spirit of adoption. When we cry ‘Abba! Father!’ it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ—if, in fact, we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him.”
We began with Jesus’ instruction to ask, seek, and knock. These three words carry a meaning far beyond a single event. You see, as Christians we are to continually ask, to always be seeking, and to never stop knocking. It is a call to an ever deepening relationship with God. It is a call to all Christians everywhere to look to God. It is a call to find our total and absolute contentment in Christ and Christ alone.
The cry to ask, seek, knock is also a plea. It is a plea to those who do not know God—to those who may know the name, but not the person of Jesus Christ. It is a plea to those who have been looking down the wrong paths for their happiness. It is God calling you home. It is God calling you to a personal relationship. But more than that, it is a promise. It is God’s promise that if you would ask, seek, and knock your Heavenly Father is ready willing and able to enter your life and make a difference.
Let’s pray:
Thank you gracious Father, for the invitation to ask, seek and knock. And thank you for your promise to always answering. Through Jesus Christ your son our lord who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit One God now and forever. Amen

Wednesday’s Text: Psalm 82

1 God has taken his place in the divine council;
in the midst of the gods he holds judgment:
2 “How long will you judge unjustly
and show partiality to the wicked? Selah
3 Give justice to the weak and the orphan;
maintain the right of the lowly and the destitute.
4 Rescue the weak and the needy;
deliver them from the hand of the wicked.”
5 They have neither knowledge nor understanding,
they walk around in darkness;
all the foundations of the earth are shaken.
6 I say, “You are gods,
children of the Most High, all of you;
7 nevertheless, you shall die like mortals,
and fall like any prince.”
8 Rise up, O God, judge the earth;
for all the nations belong to you!
(NRSV)

Once again Scripture cries out for social justice. Once more the people of God are judged on how well they live out mercy. I think sometimes we have a tendency to want to reduce what it means to be a Christian to something personal and epistemic (knowledge). Yet, Scripture seems to insist that it is more communal and existential (experience). To be a Christian means we act justly; it means we rescue the weak and the needy; it means we maintain the right of the lowly and the destitute. We do so not because of some moral or ethical imperative, but because it is who we are. In the world of the Bible, there is no separation between the sacred and the secular. The only forum available for us to live out our Christian experience, our life of holiness, is in this world. That’s one of the truly unique things about Christianity. Oh, certainly we have the hope of the resurrection, we have the hope of a new heaven and a new earth, but our primary focus is not other-worldly; it is here and now. How can we live out justice for the weak and the orphan? How can we maintain the right of the lowly and the destitute? How can we rescue the weak and the needy? How can we deliver them from the hand of the wicked? You see, it is on how well we live out God’s justice and mercy and love that we will be judged.