mercy’s victory

On Sunday I preached on 2 Kings 6:8-23, the story of the prophet Elisha’s showdown with the army of Aram. This was not a story, upon coming upon it several years ago, that I remembered from my childhood Bible story books. Yet it deserves to be better-known than it seems to be.

The story seems to express in narrative form what the Psalmist proclaimed: “A king is not saved by his great army; a warrior is not delivered by his great strength. The war horse is a vain hope for victory, and by its great strength it cannot save” (Ps. 33:16-17).

Indeed, the text makes much of horses, chariots, and armies. Two of the appearances of these in the text have to do with weapons of “blood and flesh”, to borrow the language of Ephesians 6. A third has to do with the weapons of the spirit—the “horses and chariots of fire” which the servant of Elisha saw were “more” than “the army with horses and chariots” which surrounded the Israelite city of Dothan.

The king of Aram is keen to use the horses and chariots of flesh; the prophet Elisha fights with the “sword of the spirit”—prayer. When Elisha repeatedly foils the king of Aram’s plans to attack Israel, the king of Aram responds by escalating his military escapades. Even though the king’s earlier military strategies have failed because of Elisha’s interventions in the spirit—his officers tell him that “it is Elisha, the prophet in Israel, who tells the king of Israel the words that you speak in your bedchamber”—the king is not deterred from attempting to take Elisha by force. In spite of all evidence to the contrary, the king does not consider that more military might will not now bring his enemies under his feet. He dispatches “horses and chariots and a great army” to Dothan to put an end to Elisha’s prophesying.

As before, his latest attempt is foiled. Elisha prays. The Aramean army is struck blind. Elisha leads them to Samaria, the seat of power in the Northern Israelite kingdom. He prays again. The Lord opens their eyes, “and they saw that they were inside Samaria.” By his might the king of Aram had hoped to put his enemies under his feet; now his army finds itself within the grasp of his adversary, the king of Israel.

If the Arameans expected the king of Israel to do unto them as they did unto others, this indeed would have been a time for fear. If they had understood, however, that the God of Israel is not a man, they might have expected that mercy which they received through the words of the prophet.

“Set food and water before them so that they may eat and drink; and let them go to their master" (v. 22).

“The war horse was a vain hope for victory” for the king of Aram. Far from victory, in fact, it was his defeat. Only the God who led him there, against whom his plans were laid, could bring his army out—by mercy, for the sake of God’s merciful name (see Ex. 34:5-6).

-Joe

Glory of glories

More than a year ago, I recorded some discoveries I had made on the transfiguration story from the gospels (Mk. 9:2-8; Mt. 17:1-8; Lk. 9:28-36) in conversation with African traditional religion. That entry reflected preparation I had done for teaching the story at Bethany Bible School. Finally, in May, that opportunity came to pass. I used the story as the Bible Study text for my lesson on the synoptic gospels, Matthew, Mark, and Luke.

The story is a good one for getting at some of the thematic differences between the gospels. Taking Mark as the narrative baseline for the synoptic tradition in general, one can see through the transfiguration story the distinct ways in which Matthew and Luke built upon the story. Matthew, for example, adds to Mark’s account the description of Jesus coming to the disciples, touching them, and telling them not to fear after they have witnessed the dramatic scene, entered the cloud, and heard the voice. Jesus comforts the disciples because they have fallen “on their faces” in response to the cloud and the voice. This is the second usage of “face” in the text; the first occurs at the outset of the story when Jesus’ “face” begins to shine a brilliant white. Whereas in Mark it is Jesus’ clothes which turn white, Matthew adds also that Jesus’ face shines. In doing so, Matthew intensifies the comparison between Jesus and his prophetic predecessor, Moses, whose face also used to shine when communing directly with God. Matthew’s intensification of the comparison between Jesus and Moses is commensurate with his gospel’s broader emphasis of Jesus the Law Giver/Teacher who gives the new law which fulfills the law that was given to Moses.

Luke’s account, on the other hand, reveals his own emphases. Jesus is transfigured while he is “praying”, something he did regularly according to Luke. Moreover, the city of “Jerusalem” again figures in this story as it does throughout Luke. Luke alone informs the reader of what specifically Moses and Elijah were talking about with Jesus: the exodus that he was about to accomplish “from Jerusalem.”

It is also from Luke that I was able to make my major connection between the world of the text and the traditional thought-world of my Xhosa audience. As pointed out in my earlier entry, an African reader might quickly notice in this story what a westerner might not, namely, that Jesus is communicating with his dead ancestors. Traditional African Religion was/is based upon communication with the ancestors. The story then might be read as a justification of communication with the dead.

It is not always or perhaps often appropriate to make comparisons between Jewish religion pre-Christ and African religion pre-Christ. There are significant differences, the main one being that Jewish faith was oriented toward the one God, Yahweh, to the exclusion of other gods, whereas African religion was oriented functionally toward many spiritual mediators or “gods” in spite of the fact that a concept of the one Creator God did also exist. Still, for the purpose of proclaiming a text, in this case the transfiguration story, it works to place Moses and Elijah in place of the ancestors of African traditions. Indeed, in this story, Moses and Elijah appear personally to the disciples whom Jesus had led with him up the mountain--as a deceased African grandfather might appear to his progeny in a dream. Peter’s response to the sight, likewise, is functionally equivalent to the decisions many African Christians have made with Christ—put him alongside, not necessarily in place of or even higher than, the other spiritual authorities in one’s life (we must also say that westerners have not often placed Christ in a superior position to the particular “powers and principalities” of their cultures).

But back to Luke. What of his contribution to the story? Luke, alone among the synoptic evangelists, dwells with suspense upon the characters that turn out to be Moses and Elijah. That is, Luke initially does not say, as Matthew and Mark do, that “there appeared with him Moses with Elijah” but rather, simply, “two men”. Who are these two men? Only then does Luke answer: Moses and Elijah. Going on: “they appeared in glory and were speaking about his exodus which he was about to accomplish from Jerusalem”. Luke returns to the appearance of glory once more thereafter: “Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep, but because they stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him.” Whereas in the first appearance of glory to the disciples, glory includes three—Moses, Elijah, and Jesus—in the second appearance of glory only one remains. He alone is glorious; Moses and Elijah are again, merely, “men.”

Of course, this is also how all of the synoptic evangelists conclude the narrative. The voice with the cloud acclaims “my beloved Son; listen to him” after which only one—"Jesus alone”—remains.

The ancestors used to look glorious to our eyes. But when Jesus came, we saw true glory.

-Joe

if and are

I’ve had opportunity recently to revisit the story of Jesus’ temptation (Lk. 4:1-13).

In particular, I noticed the manner in which the devil approaches Jesus in the temptation story in comparison to the way in which the “voice from heaven” approaches him at his baptism, the story which directly precedes the temptation in the gospel tradition.

The “voice” says to Jesus, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased” (Lk. 3:21). The devil says to Jesus, “If you are the Son of God”, followed by a series of requests he makes of Jesus.

God says “You are.” The devil says “If you are.”

God says “you are” my child. The devil says “If you are” God’s child, you must prove yourself according to a certain set of criteria.

The criteria which the tempter says we must fulfill in order to be a child of God comes from outside the child of God. They come from the expectations and demands that others have for us. Such expectations and demands may be the right course for us—if, and only if, they are confirmation of what the Spirit of God has already, beforehand, prior to, said to us. You are a child of God because of what God has put in you.

-Joe