Wednesday, October 14, 2015

Genesis 19

Genesis 19 comprises not just one but two rather lurid stories that one might expect to find in some Canaanite pulp magazine. While not exactly salacious, they're also not exactly Sunday school material. The first story is more well-known; Lot invites two Heavenly messengers into his house in Sodom. A group of concupiscent men knock on Lot's door, wanting to, appropriately enough, sodomize the visitors. What a lovely city. Lot tells them to shoo (good), but then offers his daughters instead (not so good).

I understand that Lot wanted to protect his guests, but using his daughters as substitutes? I may not be a father (yet), but even I know that that's horrific parenting. Perhaps that leads to the rather odious events between him and his daughters later in the chapter. Even when the angels urge Lot and his family to leave to avoid Sodom's impending annihilation, Lot hangs back and even haggles a bit, asking to flee to the nearby city of Zoar (a site of more potential temptation and possibly lecherous men) instead of going to the mountains. His wife is not so lucky, transfigured into a mineral fit for sprinkling on French fries.

Despite showing hospitality to his guests, Lot makes at least three mistakes in this story, ranging from the morally dubious to the outright atrocious. And yet, as verse 16 says, God still mercifully spares him. I can disdain Lot for betraying his daughters, but I'm also similar to him in that I sometimes hesitate to do the right thing if it's inconvenient or uncomfortable. And though I'm still working on spiritual discernment, I can foresee myself haggling with God when I'm better able to perceive His voice. "Can I do it later?" Or, "Well, that's too hard. Can I do it halfway?" God does let Lot go to Zoar, but he ironically gets spooked and ends up going to the mountains anyway. If God wants us to do something, He'll end up getting His way. (Just ask Jonah.) Given my shy and introverted nature, I'd have never imagined that I'd have a job in which I basically have to talk for hours at a time. Yet God has a reason for placing me where He has, even if I don't know what that reason is yet (other than forcing me to develop my oral communication skills).

Then, we're treated to the unsavory story in which Lot's daughters get him as drunk as a skunk so they can know him in the Biblical sense. They want to "preserve their family line," but I do wonder if that's a pretense and that they're actually getting revenge on Lot for offering them to the dogs. That may be too modern a way of interpreting it, though; maybe in that society, daughters (sadly) thought it expected to be subservient to such a degree.

Anyway, this incident does raise a few questions. I admit I've never been drunk, but if Lot didn't know what was happening until it was a fait accompli, he must have been pretty hammered. And if he was so out of it, how was he able to…well, I'm sorely tempted to get a little colorful here, but suffice to say that his daughters ended up pregnant. Surely Lot would've noticed something was up.

So yes, Lot was spared, but he lost his wife and ended up performing an unspeakable act with both his daughters. It's a rather distasteful and inconclusive note to end on, but it's a reflection of the fallen world we live in. Beauty and horror both exist in this world, sometimes side by side. But, to paraphrase James 1:17, every good gift comes from God.

Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Genesis 18

Abraham welcomes three visitors to his tent; said visitors turn out to be God and two of His angels. After partaking in a scrumptious feast of bread, milk, cheese, and veal (verse 7 of the NIV uses the euphemism "prepare" to describe the slaying of the calf), the visitors once again remind Abraham of the promise to him. This time, though, they give a specific time frame: Sarah will bear a son within the next  year.

I don't know whether Abraham knew who the three visitors were beforehand, but it's a reminder that we must strive to be hospitable to everyone. They might not literally be God in disguise, but as Matthew 25:40 reminds us, showing compassion towards God's children reveals our love for God. I can be curt with those who get on my nerves, but I know I have to show them God's love.

When Sarah hears the news about her child in the offing, she laughs in disbelief. God confronts her about this, she repudiates His allegation, and He in turn smacks her down. On the one hand, I'm tempted to wonder why you would lie to God. Think about it: When you lie to a human who knows the truth, you're just digging your own grave deeper and deeper in their eyes. Well, God, unlike us, always knows the truth and, as the one perfect being, He can't abide sin. Although I do probably lie to God, I more often try to ignore Him--but isn't evasion a kind of lie as well? That's also one of the reasons it can be so tempting to distance myself from God: If I'm not close to Him, then I don't have to deal with his disappointment when I screw up or don't act in a Christ-like manner. But that's just so incredibly selfish, and it's something I'm trying (with God's help, of course) to change.

God decides He's going to smite Sodom and Gomorrah in the best Old Testament tradition, but Abraham starts bargaining with Him. He asks God (with the proper deference) to not destroy the cities if there are 50 righteous people, then whittle it down to 10. Spoiler alert: Sodom and Gomorrah end up getting barbecued, so it's likely that Lot and his family members were the only righteous people in Sodom. Did Abraham need to do this to remind God that He is fair in His judgment? Probably not, but God may have wanted Abraham to develop his own sense of judgment through his arguments. That would sound remarkably patronizing of God if He were human, but He's not. And, of course, there was no reason for Him to send Jesus down to die for our sins.

In a world where (and this is not the intro to a movie trailer) some virtuous people get murdered or stricken with awful diseases and some evildoers get away unscathed, it can be hard to believe that God doesn't punish the righteous along with the wicked. Yes, this world is temporary, and the ultimate judgment will occur once our earthly bodies die, but that can seem so abstract and irrelevant while we're mired here in this world. I myself often get caught up in the distractions and troubles of this world. Needless to say, we shouldn't ignore everything in this world, but since our time here is temporary, we need to do what we can while we have the opportunity. Everyone needs to hear the good news of Christ, and I pray that God will light a fire within me, giving me the impetus to carry out whatever He has planned for me.

Monday, October 12, 2015

Genesis 17

Following the Hagar/Ishmael debacle, God reiterates His covenant with Abram, perhaps thinking that this time it'll get through the man's thick skull. Not only that, but, just as a lowly Magikarp evolves into a formidable Gyarados, Abram becomes Abraham. His wife receives a similar upgrade, becoming Sarah.

However, God's blessings for Abraham don't come without their conditions. There's a nasty little snip--the unkindest cut of all--that he and the other males of his clan must endure as a sign of their faithfulness. In Western culture, most guys who are circumcised have the process done soon after birth, so they probably don't remember the trauma. But Abraham, Ishmael, and the other members of the household will probably remember it...for the rest of their lives.

Why did God choose such a harrowing procedure as a demonstration of one's faith? Although there are some possible health benefits to circumcision, I (as you'd expect) don't have the answer. There's another possible hypothesis, for which I'll make an analogy. When musical artists perform, they provide the venue with a "rider" that lists their requirements, such as technical equipment, instruments, transportation, booze, In-N-Out burgers, etc. Van Halen used to specifically ask for a bowl of M&M's with the brown ones taken out. It's not that the band members were eccentrically finicky (at least in this regard); it was a test to see how carefully the venue paid attention to the rider's specifications. Well, perhaps circumcision was like God's version of the brown M&M's--it proved how serious people were about their faith and that they were paying attention to the genuinely important matters. Many of the laws in Leviticus might have served this purpose as well. Or maybe not; the moment I think I know God's mind is the moment he pulls the rug out from under my sorry feet.

Abraham must also be "blameless" and walk "faithfully" with God. While I suppose Abraham does end up meeting the latter requirement, he doesn't end up being entirely blameless--he'll make at least one more mistake before he kicks the bucket. Yet God, in His unfailing grace, ends up giving Abraham the blessings anyway. (Or maybe the word "blameless" has a different connotation in Hebrew and I'm totally off base.)

How often do I make promises to God and end up breaking them? Not very often, technically. Because I know I probably won't end up keeping my word, I don't make promises in the first place. I cop out, thinking, "Well, God, I'll try, but I'm not making any promises"--which, of course, just as bad, and probably worse in some ways. If I know with such certainty that I won't be able to keep a promise to God, are any of my words to Him worth anything? I can't just keep taking advantage of His grace, because that's not how this works. If I truly value God, I should trust Him enough to let Him work through my strengths and support me in my weaknesses.

Sunday, October 11, 2015

Genesis 16

We saw a hint of Abram's disbelief regarding God's promise that he will have more descendants than there are stars in the sky (about 8,000, according to a somewhat pedantic NIV study note), but Abram's dubiousness has now festered, manifesting itself in his actions. Sarai tells Abram that, since it looks like she won't be bearing kids, he should get it on with one of his slaves, Hagar. "Well, if you absolutely insist," Abram replies, probably rushing off to the sack to get busy before Sarai can have second thoughts.

A Mutual Antipathy Society develops between Sarai and Hagar, to the point where Sarai blames Abram for her misery. Abram, in an action eerily echoed by Pontius Pilate's hand ablutions thousands of years later, tells his wife to do with Hagar what she likes. Driven into the desert, Hagar is told by a messenger from God that her son, Ishmael, will be a wild man who won't get along with basically anyone. And, according to tradition, he became the ancestor of the Arabs (including Muhammed--the Islam one, not Ali).

This whole story illustrates how poor decisions, made without God's guidance, often spiral into maelstroms of malice and regret. It all started with an innocuous desire--to have children. It ended with accusation, shirking of responsibility, abuse, and suffering. Abram/Abraham is probably better known for his faithful qualities, but his mistakes remind us of humankind's sinful nature. Now, I'm not going to launch into a fire and brimstone sermon about we are doomed and America is going to hell--I don't know about you, but if I were an atheist or agnostic, a message like that would drive me away from the real good news of Christ's sacrifice for us. But I am, in fact, a Christian, and I need constant reminders of how I need God in my life.

I'm not going to relate some juicy story about how one of my attempts to take matters into my own hands led to an imbroglio because this is not my private Dear Diary. (I think a fellow named George Kaplan stole my diary.) But there have been times when my selfish actions have inconvenienced or frustrated others. Of course, I feel like a miserable wretch afterwards--again, perhaps that's God nudging me. I can write all this, but changing my attitude so my actions reflect God will require me to put my trust in Christ, allowing Him to work in and through me.

Saturday, October 10, 2015

Genesis 15

The Lord formalizes his covenant with Noah, promising him the land and descendants He had mentioned earlier. In verse 1, God states in a concise, tweet-length poem that He is Abram's "shield" (or sovereign) and "very great reward." Such blessed assurance from the benevolent Creator of the universe should be all that one needs, right? But even Abram has his misgivings, noting the lack of little Abrams and Sarais running around. Later on, he will propound his own solution to this little dilemma, but at this point, we can tell that Abram is well on his way down this thorny road.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, few of us hear audible commands from God, but we do know that, if we accept His son as our Savior, He will be our shield and sovereign as well. I have yet to hear God give me any specific promises or fortunes ("Tomorrow, you will slip on a banana peel discarded by Tom Hanks"), yet I suspect I would respond as Abram did, doubting and trying to take matters into my own hands. Though I pray for spiritual discernment, part of me is frightened that God might tell me to do something that I won't like. In fact, in order to make me grow, it's almost guaranteed that He'll tell me to do something way outside my comfort zone. Writing these posts has been a leap of faith, but it's not a major life change. I'm not wasting as much time as I used to, but that's about it. Am I willing to endure the ordeals that will spur my spiritual growth? It's like that moldy chestnut of a lightbulb joke: How many psychiatrists does it take to change a lightbulb? Just one, but it has to really want to change. (If you don't like that little witticism, at least it's not mine.)

Abram bisects some animals (but not the birds) at God's behest. The author, for whatever reason, thought it really important to include the little detail in verse 11 about how Abram drove away the carrion birds who wanted to make a repast out of the carcasses.

But before God sends His Back to the Future Delorean fire trail through the halves of the animals, He sends Abram a prophecy of the Israelites' future bondage in Egypt and the subsequent Exodus. In addition, He promises that the wicked Amorites will get what's coming to them. (A short drop and a sudden stop?) I wonder if Abram, who will be long gone by the time his descendant Charlton Heston leads the Israelites out of the land of Yul Brynner, managed to pass this information down to his offspring, or if it ended up like a generations-long game of telephone. Maybe by the time Moses got the message, "Our people will be enslaved by Egypt for a while but will be set free," turned into "Our street will be paved by eagles and crocodiles but we'll get a pizza tree."

Just as few of us receive audible commands from God, not everyone has the gift of prophecy. But I do think God gives us information or guides our actions that will benefit others--and we'll never know it. In films or books, we get a sense of narrative satisfaction from such acts because the director or author can show us different characters' points of view. In reality, we're not omniscient--but God is. I hope this doesn't come across as too sententious, but when we let God guide our actions, there may be times when we don't think we're making a difference. But perhaps we are, and we'll never know the fruits of our actions until we arrive at our eternal home.

Friday, October 9, 2015

Genesis 14

Lot finds himself caught in the crossfire in a battle between kings with funny names (although one of the kings is the ruler of a region called Goyim), spurring Abram to come to his rescue. I suppose it had been kind of a long time since Adam and Eve, but it's still disturbing how quickly human society started  squabbling for land and power.

I admit I find a morbidly humorous quality to the image in verse 10 of people fleeing, only to run straight into tar pits. I know I certainly wouldn't be laughing if I were in that situation, but unless the battle took place at night, there is kind of a Looney Tunes, Wile E. Coyote quality to someone walking into a tar pit because they're not watching where they're going. (Just watch;  that's going to end up happening to me some day.) In any case, it's an oddly specific detail to include in an otherwise vaguely described battle.

Lot's decision to pitch his tent (so to speak) near Sodom, a bustling city with a facade of opportunity, had led him to become embroiled in a political situation. Kidnapped by four kings, he probably momentarily regrets his decision. (I say "momentarily" because he ends up going right back.) Abram, who has put his faith in God, has enough people under his command to not only pluck Lot out of his quandary, but also to rout the opposing kings. Not to say that God will always provide you with wealth beyond your imagination if you have faith in Him, but He will provide what He knows you need at just the right moment--and Abram did need all those resources to rescue his nephew and make his mark in the area, letting his neighbors know of the God he served.

I know that God provided me with my jobs just when I needed them. Even more miraculous in this economy is that I got these jobs without knowing anybody at the companies beforehand. And this was all when I just had a tenuous connection with Him--how much more will He stimulate my growth and development when I actively start living for Him (as I'm attempting to do now)?

As a final note, in my freshman year of high school, our band played a musical piece based on this Biblical event called "Abram's Pursuit," composed by David R. Holsinger. One of my favorite pieces I played in my years of band, you can listen to it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_h4tiFNS-qg

Another rousing piece by the same composer is "To Tame the Perilous Skies" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WnmSWfSlZTg This particular performance isn't the greatest, especially during the finale, but I couldn't find the recording I have on Youtube. (Not my uploads)

Thursday, October 8, 2015

Genesis 13

We saw in the last chapter that, even though Abram was faithful, he could still make goofs. In this chapter, we see another one of Abram's imperfections, this one very human: He squabbles with his relatives. After trekking miles and miles from Ur to Egypt and back to Canaan in close proximity with Lot, Abram apparently can't stand his nephew anymore--and the feeling is mutual.

We all know people we can't stand, though I'm lucky enough not to have to spend much time with said people. And although Abram and Lot agree to go their separate ways, Abram is magnanimous enough to let Lot pick where to go. As the elder, Abram probably could've said, "I'm going over here to this awesome oasis. Good luck trying to survive in the Jundland Wastes!" When I'm in positions of privilege, do I take the high road, allowing others to pick their preference? When I'm driving and have the right of way, it irks me whenever someone who, apparently not valuing their own life, makes an unsafe or illegal maneuver. Of course, one should always drive defensively lest one become a doormat, and I myself have gone through many a yellow light. If one is too obsequious, that can also create a lack of respect from those whom one interacts with. But (and I think I've touched on this before) making selfish decisions gets me nowhere. Well, it does get me somewhere--it pushes me away from God.

In verse 10, Lot looks around and just happens to be able to see the features of the land around him. I can only assume that he and Abram are on the top of some conveniently located mountain. Or maybe he's using a jetpack.

Although most of us have positions of influence over certain other people, we also sometimes receive the benefits of mentors in positions above us. Lot, allowed by Abram to pick his territory, chooses the land that looks the most promising and beneficial--near Sodom, a choice that will eventually leave his wife in a pillar-shaped state of dismay. Abram, on the other hand, puts his trust in God and in turn is promised a permanent land for his people (what is now Israel) and multitudinous descendants.

I ashamedly tend to take the Lot route when I make decisions. Though I haven't undergone the horrors (to put it mildly) that Lot faced, trying to make decisions based on my own pleasure leads to temporary satisfaction, but tends to give me a bad attitude when confronted with difficult situations. And yet I keep doing it! We can all laugh at Biblical characters making the same mistakes over and over, yet I act similarly. I'm going to sound like a broken record, albeit one that God probably broke intentionally: I need to rely on God and not on my own strength.