Tag: Ezekiel

Truly no man can ransom another, or give to God the price of his life. — Psalm 49.7

For most of the first minute immediately after our third child was born earlier this summer she didn’t take the deep breath a baby should take, nor give way to the first joyous cry. It was an agonizing expanse of time.

I began to plead in prayer but, more than any other time in my life, felt the reality that I had nothing with which to bargain. Nothing I have, control, or can manifest was worth her life—even everything combined didn’t seem to come close. I was simply at the mercy of God.

Though our daughter drew her first breath—releasing her beautiful cry into the world—and has done wonderful since, something inside me changed that night. I was confronted with my insufficiency.

This experience is part of what Sally Lloyd-Jones gets at when she explains the story of Naaman to children in her book The Jesus Storybook Bible. Naaman’s miraculous healing from leprosy requires he leave the comfort and control of his incredible riches and power. Lloyd-Jones imagines what he must have thought upon hearing God’s plan:

“I am Naaman. I am important. I should do something important so God will heal me!” And he rode off in rage. (Of course, you and I both know, that’s not how God does things. All Naaman needed was nothing. It was the one thing Naaman didn’t have.)

The Scriptures do not speak of our temporal reality in order to demean us, but to awaken us. Though we have much, the way to eternal life is to have nothing. Though we succeed, the way to transcended peace is to release it all and rest in the mercy of God. As the Psalmist writes:

For God sees that even the wise die; the fool and the stupid alike must perish and leave their wealth to others. Their graves are their homes forever, their dwelling places to all generations, though they called lands by their own names. Man in his pomp will not remain; he is like the beasts that perish.

For though, while he lives, he counts himself blessed and though you get praise when you do well for yourself—his soul will go to the generation of his fathers, who will never again see light. Man in his pomp yet without understanding is like the beasts that perish.

Today’s Reading
Ezekiel 10 (Listen – 3:16)
Psalms 49 (Listen – 2:10)

Walk about Zion, go around her, number her towers, consider well her ramparts, go through her citadels, that you may tell the next generation that this is God, our God forever and ever. He will guide us forever. — Psalm 48.12–14

What a person does with their success reveals their character. This may be why, as a culture, we are fascinated with movements like The Giving Pledge—where, according to their site, “the world’s wealthiest individuals and families dedicate the majority of their wealth to philanthropy.”

To look at the opposite end of the spectrum, what a person leaves behind in their success reveals their character. For a real-time case study on this we turn to Uber CEO and cofounder Travis Kalanick. Thirteen months ago I wrote:

Uber’s plans for the future don’t appear to be focused around making life better for drivers. The company recently lured 40 robotics engineers away from Carnegie Mellon. Drivers are a stop-gap until the robots take over.

This year the company has taken those 40 robotics engineers and launched Uber Advanced Technologies Center—which, as I write today, is in the process of testing their first self-driving cars in Carnegie Mellon’s hometown of Pittsburgh. Soon-to-be left behind? The first-generation immigrants who make up a majority of Uber’s drivers—not to mention every middle class driver trying to make ends meet.

Uber isn’t a case-study in wickedness (nearly any organization could be used to demonstrate institutional brokenness), nor are any of the philanthropic billionaires exemplars of virtue (a person can give money for scores of self-serving purposes). Yet as we consider the lives of others we find the opportunity to reflect on our own decisions and trajectory.

Success is revealing. This is what makes the prophetic images in Scripture so powerful. What we see, especially in the Psalms and gospels, is what happens when God succeeds.

There is something profound about the imagery in Psalm 48. We are asked to picture ourselves walking in the city of God. The last time humanity walked with God was in the garden—now the garden has been cultivated through God’s grace in our labor and we walk with him again.

What is left behind? Sin. The death and decay of our world, the pain and suffering of living in brokenness—all has been left behind—all that was lost has been restored.

Today’s Reading
Ezekiel 9 (Listen – 2:05)
Psalms 48 (Listen – 1:28)

You shall tear down their altars and dash in pieces their pillars and burn their Asherim with fire. You shall chop down the carved images of their gods and destroy their name out of that place. You shall not worship the Lord your God in that way. — Deuteronomy 12.3-4

Scripture explains the concept of idolatry as the practice of wrapping one’s identity, success, and pleasure in anything outside of God. The concept of idolatry is often reduced to an ancient and individual problem. Yet when we consider idolatry’s modern and communal—or social—expressions we find it not only in our own culture, but even inside communities of faith. David Powlison explains:

What happens to the Gospel when idolatry themes are not grasped? “God loves you” typically becomes a tool to meet a need for self-esteem in people who feel like failures. The particular content of the Gospel of Jesus Christ—”grace for sinners and deliverance for the sinned-against”—is down-played or even twisted into “unconditional acceptance for the victims of others’ lack of acceptance.”

More often than not Israel didn’t worship other gods through their idols, but worshiped their own God through idols. This is the case after they crossed the Red Sea. The people crafted a golden calf and cried out, “These are your gods, O Israel, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt!”

The same happened in Deuteronomy when God commanded Israel, “you shall not worship the Lord your God in that way.” Idolatry, we learn, does not stand in contrast to worship—idolatry is any form of worship that is polluted with self-created, self-serving, self-focused practices.

Idolatry becomes more insidious as it gains steam in a culture. “All societies are addicted to themselves and create deep codependency,” Fr. Richard Rohr observes in his book Breathing Underwater: Spirituality and the 12 Steps. He continues:

There are shared and agreed-upon addictions in every culture and every institution. These are often the hardest to heal because they do not look like addictions because we have all agreed to be compulsive about the same things and blind to the same problems. The Gospel exposes those lies in every culture: The American addiction to oil, war, and empire; the church’s addiction to its own absolute exceptionalism; the poor person’s addiction to powerlessness and victimhood; the white person’s addiction to superiority; the wealthy person’s addiction to entitlement.

Communities fall into idolatry when their individual members stop questioning what’s normal. The Church is supposed to be more diverse, loving, inclusive, joy-filled, and sacrificial than any society in which it is incarnate. Anything less is an idolatrous reflection of the tribalism, indifference, division, apathy, and self-preservation that is native to our broken world.

Weekend Reading List

• The Echo Chamber of Idolatry. Michael J. Ovey for Themelios.
• Self-Critical Thinking. Fr. Richard Rohr for the Center for Action and Contemplation.
• Idols of the Heart and “Vanity Fair”. David Powlison for The Journal of Biblical Counseling.
• This is Water. David Foster Wallace for the 2005 Kenyon Commencement Address.

Today’s Reading
Ezekiel 5 (Listen – 3:28)
Psalms 42-43 (Listen – 2:39)

This Weekend’s Readings
Ezekiel 6 (Listen – 2:49) Psalms 44 (Listen – 2:44)
Ezekiel 7 (Listen – 4:32) Psalms 45 (Listen – 2:17)

Monday’s Reading
Ezekiel 8 (Listen – 3:21)
Psalms 46-47 (Listen – 2:15)

 

By Charles Haddon Spurgeon (1834-1892)

As for me, I said, “O Lord, be gracious to me; heal me, for I have sinned against you!” — Psalm 41.4

Here is a prayer: “Lord, be gracious to me.” It may mean,—and I daresay it did mean, at least in part—“Mitigate my pains.” I have sometimes found that, where medicine has failed, and sleep has been chased away, and pain has become unbearable, it has been good to appeal to God directly, and to say, “O Lord, I am thy child; wilt thou allow thy child to be thus tortured with pain?

But that is not all that David meant, I am quite sure, for, next, he must have meant, “Forgive my sins.” You can see, by his prayer, that his sins were the heaviest affliction from which he was suffering: “Be merciful unto me: heal my soul; for I have sinned against thee.” And, believe me, there is no pain in the world that at all approximates to a sense of sin.

David, when he said, “Lord, be gracious to me,” also meant, “Fulfill thy promises.”

I think that David also meant by this prayer, “Heal me of my tendency to sin.” He seemed to say, “Lord, I shall sin again if I am not healed. I have an evil tendency in me, and an old nature which is inclined to sin; if thou dost not heal me of this disease, there will be another eruption upon the skin of my life, and I shall sin again.” When a man sins outwardly, it is because he has sin inwardly. If there were no sin in us, no sin would come out of us; but there it lies, sometimes, concealed.

The second part is a confession: “I have sinned against you.”

It is a confession without an excuse. David does not say, “I have sinned against you, but I could not help it,” or, “I was sorely tempted,” or, “I was in trying circumstances.” No; as long as a man can make an excuse for his sin, he will be a lost man; but when he dare not and cannot frame an excuse, there is hope for him.

It is a confession without any qualification. He does not say, “Lord, I have sinned to a certain extent; but, still, I have partly balanced my sins by my virtues, and I hope to wipe out my faults with my tears.”

A man who only pretends to be a sinner, and does not realize his guilt in the sight of God, will not have a Savior. Christ died for nobody but real sinners, those who feel that their sin is truly sin.

*Abridged from “A Singular Plea In Prayer,” delivered by Charles Haddon Spurgeon in 1884.

Today’s Reading
Ezekiel 4 (Listen – 2:56)
Psalms 40-41 (Listen – 3:57)

 

O Lord, make me know my end and what is the measure of my days; let me know how fleeting I am! And now, O Lord, for what do I wait? My hope is in you. — Psalm 39.4, 7

How do you put Christ at the center of every longing, joy, and cry when you have what you want? It’s one thing to cry out to God when life is falling apart—another thing entirely to look to him when everything is going as planned.

As an infant Isaac Watts “nursed on the steps of the Southampton jail where his father was imprisoned as a Dissenter,” the Poetry Foundation notes in the now famous hymn-writer’s biography. Had Watts’ life stayed in a state of poverty at the fringes of society his music and recorded prayers could be explained as a grasping for help from any place he could find it.

Yet Watts’ life excelled far beyond his unstable beginnings. After his formal education concluded, The Poetry Foundation continues, “Watts was to become a prominent educator whose textbooks and educational theory were republished in Britain and America for more than a century.” He also published four volumes of poetry, 750 hymns, hundreds of sermons, and seven books that span a number of fields.

In all his success, Watts grounded himself in the scriptures and prayer. His book The Psalms of David Imitated in the Language of the New Testament provides a glimpse into this world. Watts’ interpretation of the words of Psalm 39 reveals the power of success moored to to the transcendent glory of God:

Teach me the measure of my days,
Thou Maker of my frame;
I would survey life’s narrow space,
And learn how frail I am.

A span is all that we can boast,
An inch or two of time;
Man is but vanity and dust
In all his flower and prime.

See the vain race of mortals move
Like shadows o’er the plain;
They rage and strive, desire and love,
But all the noise is vain.

Some walk in honor’s gaudy show,
Some dig for golden ore;
They toil for heirs, they know not who,
And straight are seen no more.

What should I wish or wait for, then,
From creatures earth and dust?
They make our expectations vain,
And disappoint our trust.

Now I forbid my carnal hope,
My fond desires recall;
I give my mortal interest up,
And make my God my all.

Today’s Reading
Ezekiel 3 (Listen – 4:41)
Psalm 39 (Listen – 1:49)