Hearing the Word Anew!

Over the past several months I have been doing a word by word break down of Genesis one, taking it back to the original Hebrew, looking at each word in the pictographs that proceeded the alphabet we currently use, seeing what is foreshadowed in this inaugural passage of our sacred text, and trying to understand what these words would have sounded like to those who heard it for the first time. To say the least, it has been an eye opening experience to study these verses that were presented to me in flannel graphs and the colorful picture books of Sunday school.

Something happens to our understanding of the Bible when you grow up with it being doled out in pretty little bite size pieces. When the stories all stand alone without any historical moorings to hold them in place or to give you perspective. We lose sight of the fact that these events happened to real people in a real world with a very real socio-economic-political-religious context that would have colored every word and phrase in a way that is all but lost on the modern reader.

To put it another way, Genesis was not dropped on a people whose minds and hearts were a blank slate. They were not automatons simply waiting for their programing to be downloaded. Just like us, they heard the news of creation with buttload of baggage and preconceived notions that had to be confronted, rooted out, and brought into alignment with this new revelation. (And yes, buttload is a proper and precise theological term – well, in my world anyways.)

So we ask the obvious questions:  Who wrote Genesis? When was it written? And to whom was it written?  

The first one is easy enough. The answer is Moses. Jesus even said so in Luke 24:44, and then Paul gives us a little more insight in Acts 7. This also answers the second and third questions. It was written after the Exodus and to the Children of Israel after they had been freed from slavery.

It is easy to brush by all that with a nod of acceptance, but we have got to stop flying through our Bible and acting as if reading the words is enough to understand what we are being shown. Think about this with me.

Moses who Paul says was “educated in all the wisdom of the Pharaohs” takes this bunch of refugees out into the desert. Refugees who had lived their whole lives in fear, who had all hope for the future snuffed out under a slave master’s whip, whose sole purpose was to toil for a people who viewed them as so sub-human that with a simple decree their children were ripped out of their arms and slaughtered. Can you imagine degradation they had endured? The sheer worthlessness that had been ingrained so deeply into their heads that they would one day beg to return to this condition because the comfort of the known held much more appeal than the rigors of the desert before them?

As we read the accounts in our comfy arm chairs, in rooms heated and cooled to our preference, and munching on our Cheetos, it is easy to proclaim that we would have never spurned God’s promises the way they did. We would never turn our backs on him after having experienced the awesome terror of the plagues or the grand wonder of the parting of the sea. How smug we can be! And yet how many of us can’t even bother with being polite to the checkout girl. Tell me again how easy it would be for a Christian today to make this walk of faith.

And yet, here they are. In a desert, carrying the only possessions they have, and wondering what is going to happen to them and their children when the food runs out. If this was not terrifying enough, there is another thought process running in the backgrounds of their minds – they may have just brought the entire world to an end.

The land they had just left was a land of cycles. Cycles of the sun personified by Ra who made his daily circuit through the sky, eaten each night by Set, and delivered from Set’s belly each morning, governing the ebb and flow of all life. Cycles of the Nile with its seasonal flooding that washed in the fertile silt and watered the crops that most of the known world depended upon for food at one point or another in history. Cycles of life, a 3000 year process of life, death, and reincarnation that only the most worthy could hope to escape. Cycles guarded and upheld by Pharaoh, the man they had just watched drown in the collapsing walls of the sea. The god-man entrusted with putting down political coups and slave uprisings so that the cycles could continue unbroken and unhindered lest the mighty Nun, the god of chaos, rise up from his watery prison and consume the world once more.

Did they not just witness the chaotic waters destroy the one charged with holding back Nun’s power? Did they not just rise up in defiance against the one the only culture they knew proclaimed to be their guardian and savior? What had they done? Was it a mistake? Could they be forgiven? Freedom? What did freedom mean to dead men?

Certainly they had experienced the fierce power of this God that Moses had claimed to follow, but hadn’t this God failed them before?  What of all the years they had languished as slaves, crying out for a savior and none was given? Hadn’t they watched their own parents, grandparents, and even their children die as this God ignored their cries? What was to say that this time would be different? And Moses, where was he? It seemed like so long ago that he had left them here in this barren waste and disappeared into the clouds that surrounded Sinai. Perhaps he had brought them here to die.

So many questions, so much fear, and so little to cling to as they waited their fates.

Then one day they seem him as he walks down the mountains, still radiant from his time with God. Moses who carries back the tablets of stone, the laws by which they are to live, but he carries back something more – the stories of a time only dimly remembered, the time of their forefathers, and the times of creation.

And the story begins with these life changing words – IN THE BEGINNING!

No more cycles to be defended or guarded. No more endless loops of time imprisoning humanity in never ending toil and hardships. No more wheels crushing them into oblivion. No! There was a beginning!  A point where it all started, a point where God acted, and a God did not conquer the chaos – he redeemed it! Fashioning and shaping it according to his desires, not reliant on a man, even a god-man to defend his cycles of life. He stood above it all.

And with the declaration of beginning came the promise of an end. Hope, purpose, and meaning! For now all of humanity would take part in the culmination of time so that the glory of God might be revealed to all men and women who walked this earth. A God who stood in power and glory above the chaos of this world, not with the need to conquer but with the desire to redeem.

I can only imagine the wonder that filled them as they heard this word we brush past. I can only imagine how the pillars of the world they knew shook and crumbled under the weight of this new revelation as they rose again. This time not as runaway slaves, but as a nation, holy, set apart, with a mission and purpose decreed by the God who defied every truth they had been trained to hold dear.

Can it mean any less for us? Even in our comfy chairs? Is the word any less vital or true for us? How many times have you felt like a rat on wheel, that life had no purpose, no meaning? That the chaos of this world had overwhelmed you, consuming all that you gave security and peace? The world does not have to be as we have been trained to see it. It does not have to be limited by the truths that everyone wants us to hold dear. For we are not slaves to this world, we have been freed so that we to might be a holy nation, set apart, with a mission, and with a purpose. We – you and I, not some person on a pedestal, not some spiritual guru, we have been set apart holy unto him! And he still the God who redeems all of creation to himself, we just need to hear the words anew.

What's in a name? Psalm 107

“Oh, give thanks to the LORD for he is good.” Psalms 107:1a

In the past two posts, we have looked at the background for this Psalm and the first word.. In this one we are going to look at the next key word in the verse, “LORD.”

Now, there have been volumes and libraries written on this particular name of God, and there is no way that I could begin to share everything this name has to teach us about the nature and person of God. However, we can get a glimpse into the significance of its use here, and in doing so, we can establish some principles for understanding when we encounter it in other passages.
Before we go any further, I would ask you to take the time to grab your Bible and to simply read this verse. As you do look for anything that you might consider strange.

Do you see it?

If you have a newer translation of the Bible, you probably noticed that the word LORD is in all caps. Did you ever wonder why the translators chose to do that? After all, none of the other names for God get this treatment, so why this one? To find the answer you have to dig back into the Hebrew, or know someone who will do it for you. (You’re welcome.)

If you were to read this in the Hebrew the name you would find is יהוה, sometimes referred to as the Tetragrammaton or the unspeakable name of God. So what do you do if something is unspeakable? You come up with a code word, a substitution, and the substitution in Hebrew is Adonai. So when you read the text in Hebrew, you see the name of God written out as יהוה but when reading it out loud you simply say Adonai in its place. The reader is fully aware of which name is being used, but it is just not spoken.

This posed a bit of a problem for English translations. How do you convey what is in the original text while still honoring the command that would Hebrew readers would have followed, not to speak this name? Translating it as Adonai would not work since adonai is a rather a generic term of respect that simply means lord. We find it used throughout the Hebrew Scriptures: Abraham is called lord, there are Philistine lords, and Jael even called Sisera lord - right before she pounds a tent peg through his skull. So there is no guarantee that when we see this word in the English that the Bible is talking about God. The solution? Translate adonai as lord, but when the Tetragrammaton is used write LORD in all caps so that the English readers would know the real name being used.

Now, back to our text, and we begin with a question: Why did the Psalmist use this term for God? There are a multiplicity of names that he could have chosen from. Elohim, for instance, is the name Moses used for God when he wrote Genesis, so why not chose that name? You know, one were allowed to say or sing in this case? This is a song lyric after all.

In Biblical theology there are rules for interpretation, and one of these is known as the “Law of First Mention.” Basically, it boils down to the way are to understand a word, term, idea, or even the letters of the Hebrew alphabet is to look at when it was first mentioned or appears in the text. Elohim, for example, is first mentioned in Genesis 1:1 when God is creating the heavens and the earth. So when we see this name we are to think of Creator God, and if we were to look at every passage where this name of God is used we would find that is somehow connected with the concept of creation.

In contrast, we do not encounter the Tetragrammaton until Exodus 3 when Moses encounters God at the Burning Bush. Think about what is going on at that time. God’s people are trapped in slavery.
There is no hope for them aside from his direct intervention. They need a miracle that will change not just the circumstances of their life. They need a new identity, or more accurately, they need to be returned to the identity God had given them so long ago as the children of Abraham and live as people of promise once more. To use a theological term, they needed to be redeemed, and it all begins here with God revealing himself to Moses with name יהוה, “I am that I am” or more precisely, “I will be what I will be.” And as the story unfolds, we see God revealed as redeemer and king. A God who can change realities and give identity and purpose. A God who changes slaves into a nation, and the oppressed into the means of deliverance for the whole world in the person of Jesus.

So what is the Psalmist trying to tell us? He wants us to think of God in the context of redemption. He wants us to remember that burning bush and the revelation of God’s loving response to his people. He is asking us to recall how God fought on behalf of his chosen one, and how through his love they became something so much greater than who they were. He is uniting us to a history that testifies of God’s goodness. He is reminding us that this history is our history, and we serve the same God as those who witnessed the plagues of Egypt and the miracles in the desert.

I think that we could all stand to be reminded of this truth. I know I have days when I am standing somewhere between the Red Sea and armies of Pharaoh that try to destroy my life, terrified there is no way out, and that is when I need the reminder. The God who split the Red Sea is the same God I serve. He did not change. He is still in the business of deliverance and redemption. He is just waiting for me to call out, to confess that I need him in my world and circumstance, and allow him some room to work. The history of Israel’s redemption is the story of my redemption, and it is the stories of others that we are encouraged to believe there is redemption for all who seek him.

I, too, am nothing more than a runaway slave. Each and every time, I make my escape it chases after me trying to drag me back to a place where I am defined by sins decrees. I need a God who will who will part the waters and make a way for me into the wilderness, a place where I become something new in his presence, and do what only the free can do – sing the praises of the LORD whose lovingkindness is everlasting.

Our Redemption Stories

Originally published on Exploring Life on the Pagus

There are times when we look up and find ourselves in the middle of a mine field. We have no idea how we got there, but circumstance and good intentions take us right back to a place we fought so hard to leave behind.

Yesterday, I was asked to help a friend. It seemed like an innocent enough request, and one I wanted to fulfill. After all, I know what it is like to be young mother taking care of small children on limited funds and not being able to pay the mountain of bills that keeps growing to epic peaks of destruction. So I got in my car and went, with no reservations, no compunction, and no hesitancy.

But soon after I got there I was in a scene all too familiar. One that I fled from over a decade ago, and one that I would like to forget ever played out in my life. It was a painful place, one where I almost lost myself and my children to a special type of hell that is reserved for women who think that they can save the world, or at least one “special” man.

As I sat and talked to the young woman who needed the assistance, I kept having flashbacks that were trying to break to the surface of my mind. Memories that I would quickly put down so that I could focus on the specifics of this situation, but as she talked I knew I really didn’t even need to hear what she said. The script was familiar enough, after all, I felt like I wrote it so many years ago, and frankly, my delivery was better.

I woke up this morning still troubled by what I had witnessed, and in the privacy and safety of my own home I let those suppressed memories play out in my head. The question that kept ringing across them all was why? Why did I need to be the one who went? Why did I need to be reminded in such a blunt way of all the pain I left behind? Worked so hard to be free of?

I know the answer, and it is simple enough. Those who went with me spoke it plainly, “I don’t have your perspective,” “I’ve never been in this situation,” “I can’t imagine what this is like,” “I don’t know what to do to help.” At the time, all I could think was “Thank God you don’t.”

If I believe anything it is this. One, God is sovereign. He is big enough, strong enough, and sometimes even ruthless enough to carry out his purposes. Two, there is redemption for all the things we carry to the throne. Nothing is wasted, nothing is without purpose, not even our pain.

As I walked through yesterday, I had eyes to see what others would have missed. I had the experience to hear between the words, and the hard won wisdom to know what can and can’t be done to help. I am not saying this out of any sort of arrogance. It simply is the result of what I have lived through, and that is the key – I LIVED through it.

I came out on the other side basically whole, with a few scars that still give me trouble when a front moves through. But I am still alive, and I am stronger for what I have endured. It deepened my appreciation for the beautiful things I have in my life now, and it gave me an intimate knowledge of God that so many people in church just do not understand.

The thing is, we all have at least one area of our lives like this. One wilderness that we have walked through that others don’t even have a map to explain. What we have known and what we have done is a mystery to them, and they need us to help them navigate through these unknown lands.

It is one of the redemptive elements of our lives – the power of our story. It gives purpose and meaning to the events we have witnessed that is beyond ourselves. It brings hope to those who are still wandering in the land we managed to escape. Too often we try to avoid confronting our past hurts and wounding, we think that if we ignore it long enough we can forget that it existed, forget that we ever allowed ourselves to be that person.

Sometimes, I think that the world is crying out for those of us brave enough to show them our scars to give them this hope. They need to see that the God we serve is big enough to bring life, even where they are. They need to know that they are not forgotten, and He loves them even in the midst of their pain. And that only happens when we are strong enough to let another see into our past, show them how God saved us, and the power of his healing enacted in our lives.

Our stories of healing and redemption validate God’s power in this life, in their lives, and for many this is the only hope they have to cling to. If God did it for them, maybe he can and will do it for me – how can they have that hope unless we live it out before them? Maybe it is time we put an end to being the victims of our past and declare the victory of a Lord who specializes in redeeming all of history to his glory. Maybe it is time we stopped living in shame over our mistakes and we lived a life celebrating the redemptive power of His story.