“We Awake In the Night in the Womb of the World”

May 14, 2013

The above title is the first line in the refrain of Andrew Peterson’s “Come Back Soon.” On Sunday my old and dear friend Dean Barham, in his morning sermon at Woodmont Hills, alerted me to Peterson’s music and particularly this line. It has stuck with me for a few days now.

Yesterday I read Keith Brenton’s funeral eulogy for his wife. He has decided with faith and courage to grieve with hope. I grieved with my friend, prayed for his family, and protested her death.

April 30 to May 22 has become a season of lament for me. April 30th is the anniversary of my first wife’s death (Sheila), May 10 is my deceased father’s birthday, May 21 is the anniversary of the death of my son (Joshua), and May 22 is the anniversary of my first marriage. In the last five years my emotions during this time have been particularly evident to me as I have attempted to face my grief.

But I recognize that my lament is only a small part of the larger dimensions of sorrow within the world. The Psalms evidence this range of lament–lament for evil and injustice and lament over our own sins as well as lament over disease and death. It is not only the lament of an individual but the lament of communities, ethnicities, nations, and, indeed, the whole world.

We all “awake in the night.” At some point we all lose our innocence, and we realize the world is often a dark, lonely, and broken place. “Every death,” Peterson sings, “is a question mark.”

“We awake in the night,” and the refrain continues,

We beat our fists on the door
We cannot breathe in this sea that swirls
So we groan in this great darkness
For deliverance
Deliverance, O Lord.

Peterson’s language evokes Biblical images of chaos (sea and darkness) against which humanity protests (fists). “We awake in the night” when we lose our innocence and experience creation’s chaos.

Existentially, I had my awakening on April 30, 1980. I’ve had several since then as well–some due to tragedy, some due to my own sin and brokenness. But the groan remains the same….”we groan in the darkness” and we cry “for deliverance.” “So,” Peterson sings, “we kick in the womb and we beg to be born.”

We beg to be born. It is “in the womb of the world” where we awake, where we beg, where we groan. We cry for this broken creation to give birth to a new one.

The last song, “Don’t You Want to Thank Someone For This,” on the CD (“Light for the Lost Boy”) brings this yearning to a climax.

There is lament. “Can’t you feel it in your bones, something isn’t right here.”

But there is also joy. The sun comes up every morning, Spring follows Winter, and “beauty abounds.”

There is awakening. Though it is in the night, it is in the womb. Though we cry “How long?” we also pray “Come back soon.” And “when the world is new again,” then the children of the King will sing on, and their mourning will be turned to dancing.

“Hallelujah, Hallelujah.
Come back soon!”


Can These Bones Live? Ezekiel 37:1-14

January 22, 2013

The twentieth century is too familiar with valleys of dry bones.human bones The images of stacked bodies from Nazi concentration camps, churches filled with the bones of those who sought sanctuary in Rwanda, or the killing fields of Cambodia. Unfortunately, with the help of media and the horrific inhumanity of recent times, we can all too easily imagine what Ezekiel sees in this vision. We don’t even have to imagine it; our eyes have seen the photos!

Ezekiel’s valley is a metaphor for a moment in Israel’s history. After a thirty month siege, Jerusalem fell in 587 BCE to the Babylonian Emperor Nebuchadnezzar (2 Kings 25:3). Judah became a Babylonian province and ceased to exist as an independent nation. The devastation is likened to a valley of dry bones. These are the bones of a slain nation. Israel was dead.

Ezekiel, living in Babylon, records the lament of an exiled people: “We have become old, dry bones—all hope is gone. Our nation is finished” (Ezekiel 37:11). Bones are a vivid image and a relatively common metaphor. Living bones represent life and vibrancy, but bones that lie in the dust are crushed and broken (cf. Job 20:11; Psalms 32:3; 53:5; 141:7). Dry bones are powerless.

This is Israel’s position before the imperial power of Babylon. They are hopeless. The nation will never live again. Defeated and now exiled, they are scattered among the nations like dry bones scattered in a valley.

Can these bones live again? All human experience answers with a resounding “No!” Dry bones do not come back to life. Even modern medical miracles cannot restore life to dry bones. Humanity is powerless before death just as Israel was powerless under the thumb of an imperial power.

Ezekiel’s response to Yahweh’s question is perhaps evasive and probably faith-filled. “O Lord God, you know.” It is probably the wise answer. Who could imagine that dry bones could live again? But Ezekiel leaves it with God. Only God knows whether these bones—or any dry bones—can live again.

“Dry bones,” Ezekiel proclaims, “listen to the word of the Lord!” This is quite an image itself—a prophet speaking to dry bones. You might wonder what had happened to my psyche if you saw me preaching to graves in the local cemetery. The image is absurd and preposterous, even comical. What does one say to a grave?

“What does one say to a grave?” rings in my ears. I am, as many others, all too familiar with graves. I don’t enjoy cemeteries. Unlike some, I don’t find much comfort there. Graves are too permanent; they are cold, lifeless pieces of earth. What do you say to the grave?

Yahweh, however, has a message for dry bones—a message for graves. Yahweh is not powerless before graves. He announces that these dry bones will live again because he will breathe new life into them. This is probably the most crucial element of the vision. The term ruach (breath, wind, Spirit) occurs ten times in these fourteen verses. It is the central image of life, and it is the breath of God that has power over the graves. God breathes and dry bones live again.

The image obviously echoes the creation of humanity in Genesis 2. God created bones, sinews and skin, but there was no life until God breathed life into that body. Only then did Adam (humanity) become a “living soul.” God’s created life out of lifeless bones. If God did it once, God can do it again. Dry bones are no problem for the living God. His breath transforms death into life.

Can these bones live again? Can Judah rise again as a nation? Yes, Yahweh promises to “open [Israel’s] graves of exile and cause [them] to rise again.” Yahweh promises that “I will put my Spirit in you, and you will live again and return home to your own land.” Yahweh is God, and Yahweh is faithful to Israel. They will live again.

The vision, however, extends beyond Israel. God still speaks to dry bones and brings life out of death.

It seems our lives are too often filled with examples of dryness. We often live in barren wastelands. There are wastelands of addictions, failing marriages and dry churches. We sometimes, perhaps often, feel empty, powerless and lifeless.

Yahweh’s question for Ezekiel is also addressed to us. Can these bones live? Can addicts destroyed by the powerlessness of their compulsions live again? Can marriages whose love has been extinguished by selfishness and broken promises live again? Can churches devastated by scandal, rendered comatose by traditionalism or killed by unbelief live again?

Yes, but they will only live again by the power of God’s breath or Spirit. We are powerless. We cannot revive ourselves. We cannot think positively long enough or hard enough to bring life to dry bones. We cannot simply “try harder.” Rather, we must surrender our wills and trust God’s power. When we return to God, we return to life.

“What does one say to a grave” still rings in my ears. Death is real and seems so permanent. Dry bones cannot live again, can they?

Graves are places where we, because of God’s Spirit and the resurrection of Jesus, speak a word of hope. We proclaim the reality that God raised Jesus from the dead by the power of the Spirit. God breathed life into the bones of Jesus. God conquered the grave; it is the grave that is powerless. It holds no power over us.

When we visit graves, it is still painful. We feel the loss. We feel the absence of the ones we love. But we have a message for the graves—we have a word from the Lord. God promises “I will put breath into you, and you will come to life.”

We say to graves—you will not win! Death is not the final word. In Jesus, God has spoken the final word in Jesus.

“Where, O death, is your victory?
Where, O death, is your sting?”

Death has lost its sting, and “thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Corinthians 15:55-56).

The audio version of this presentation is available here under the date 1/20/13.


Haggai 2:10-19 — You Better Think About This!

June 28, 2012

Haggai’s third oracle, like the previous two, is precisely dated. The first oracle was delivered on a new moon festival and the second was delivered during the Feast of Tabernacles. This third oracle, however, has no clear canonical link to a Jewish festival. Nevertheless, the day is significant.

The oracle is delivered on December 20, 520 B.C.E. exactly three months after construction on the temple began. Further, the oracle itself roots the significance of its message in the importance of that day—it is the day when the foundation of the temple was laid (2:18; also noted as a significant day in Ezra 3:10-13 and Zechariah 4:6-10). Further, there is evidence that in the Ancient Near EAst the initial rebuilding phase (removing the old stones) was a time of lament while the laying of the new foundation stone was a time of celebration and anticipation. Ceremonies often focused on the royal and priestly functions as the royal personage laid the foundation stone and the priests purified the site. This is exactly what we see in Haggai as his two oracles on this day concern both the priestly (2:11-19) and royal offices (2:20-23; cf. Boda, NIV Application Commentary: Haggai and Zechariah, 141). This is a grand moment in the history of Judah and Judah celebrates it as a new beginning. On this occasion, Judah turns from lament to celebration. The new edifice has begun.

The oracle, then, is future-oriented as its last line announces: “I will bless you” (2:19). But it also moves its hearers from the past to the present to the future; it moves them from lament to hope. That movement, however, is focused by their attention to the significance of this day, that is, the day when the foundation of the temple was laid. This day means that something has changed and consequently the people recognize their future hope.

Three times Haggai advises that the people “give careful thought…from this day on.” This day is a turning point; it is a moment of conversion. It is when Judah moves from a “templeless” people to a “templed” people. The theological significance of that move demands “careful thought” or attention. Without temple, Judah is deprived of land, divine presence and a future. With a temple, Judah is blessed with land, presence and hope. Laying the foundation of the temple was the hinge which swings Judah from despair to hope because the temple embodies and symbolizes divine presence, forgiveness and power. This is reason for celebration.

Haggai uses the Fall harvest to illustrate the significant change Judah is about to experience. Their Fall crops (grapes, figs, pomegranates and olives) had failed. There was little or no fruit. This is devastating for Judah’s economy and lifestyle. Haggai specifics the reason for this want—God struck “all the work of [their] hands.” The divine motive was to produce repentance among the people. Just as there was no fruit of repentance, so there was no fruit on the trees and in the fields.

This is the point of the first half of Haggai’s oracle. The people were defiled and so everything they offered to Yahweh was defiled. The faithlessness of the people—indicated by their own priorities as noted in Haggai’s first oracle—defiled whatever worship they offered Yahweh. God was not listening because the people were not seeking. They worshipped but their offerings were defiled by their own lives.

Haggai’s first example, however, recognizes that holiness (consecration) cannot be passed from one party to another though defilement can. Meat is consecrated by its sacrificial offering to God and not because it touches something else as it is taken home. Haggai’s scenario recalls the practice of the fellowship (peace) offering where worshippers would offer sacrifices at the altar and then take the meat home to eat with family and/or friends. The holiness derives from its relation to God, but defilement comes from its relation to human faithlessness and sin. This defilement is the reason the harvest has not yet yielded its fruit.

Haggai’s oracle, then, is an exhortation. On the day that the foundation of the temple is laid and the people gather to celebrate, Haggai calls them to “consider” just as he had done in the first oracle (1:5, 7). This moment is not only a call to repentance—which God had sought to effect through his discipline, but it is also a call to renewed hope. The oracle encourages the people to continue the task of rebuilding the temple because such rebuilding is pregnant with the promise of God who says, “I will bless you.”

Judah has a new temple which bears a new promise. Will they, in response, become a new people consecrated to Yahweh?


Handel’s Messiah: A Missional Reading Part IV

December 23, 2011

Part III, the shortest, is humanity’s response to God’s redemptive act and is focused on the hope of resurrection which leads to a final praise of the Lamb. Handel ends his Messiah with the praise of the reigning King, a slain Lamb.

Handel weaves together texts from Job, 1 Corinthians and Revelation. He uses the following and in this order:

  • Job 19:25-26
  • 1 Corinthians 15:20-22
  • 1 Corinthians 15:51-52
  • Revelation 5:12
  • Revelation 5:9
  • Revelation 5:13

Salvation has been accomplished even though it has not yet been fully realized on earth. Heaven–and disciples on earth–sings “Hallelujah” because the Christ has been enthroned at the right hand of God. But even heaven–and certainly disciples on earth–yet hopes for the final defeat of the nations and death itself on earth. This hope, however, is not an uncertain wish but a certain anticipation. The war has been won though there are some battles yet to fight.

Part III begins by quoting Job. Though the meaning of the text is highly disputed in contemporary discussions, Handel uses the text in a traditional way as an affirmation of two interconnected ideas:  the resurrection of Jesus and our resurrection.  It comes in a first-person soprano aira that affirms “I know my Redeemer lives….in my flesh shall I see God” (Job 19:25-26).  Christ is raised and one day we will see God in the resurrected flesh.

This aira is a first person response to redemption accomplished. It affirms our faith and our hope. We are invited to confess. We are invited to sing, “I know my Redeemer lives…in my flesh shall I see God.” Part III is faith’s response to the exaltation of the God’s Messiah.

Handel immediately links this Jobian affirmation of faith with Paul’s theological description of Christ’s resurrection as “first fruits”–the resurrection of Jesus is a promise of a coming harvest (1 Corinthians 15:20). Our resurrection is rooted in the resurrection of Jesus; because he has been raised will we. Our resurrection is as certain as our death.

The hope of salvation is not flying away into some celestial city in the sky. Rather, the hope of salvation is resurrection from the dead.

The final solos of Handel’s work are bass. Singing 1 Corinthians 15:51-52, the emphasis is on the “mystery, ” and most importantly on the confession that “we shall be changed.” In this aria the bass repeats over and over “we shall be changed” while (in some versions) the trumpet sounds in the background. The combination of the trumpet with a triumphant bass voice booming in the foreground is absolutely thrilling.

Something has happened; something has changed. The kingdoms of this world have become the kingdom of Christ. Death has been defeated. One day heaven will come toearth and we, too, shall be changed.

One might imagine that the Messiah could have ended with the “Hallelujah Chorus” which concludes Part II.  But Handel added a third part. Would not anything after that be anti-climatic? But theologically and musically Handel pulls it off. The final choral arrangement, derived from Revelation 5, is an exclamation point to the whole oratorio with the final “Amen” as a conclusion to the choral doxology.

I think, however, we need to hear this final doxology in the context of the whole oratorio. Central to the the whole piece has been the reign of God over the nations and the proclamation of peace to the nations. In this final doxology the Lamb is proclaimed worthy of blessing, power, honor and glory; both to the Lamb and the one who sits on the throne.

Worth is assigned to the Lamb that is rooted in the fact that he is the slain Lamb who has “redeemed us to God by His blood.” The slain Lamb conquered nations. The slain Lamb defeated the powers. This is the redemptive mission of God–that the kingdoms of this world would become the kingdom of Christ. But not by force or violence, but by the suffering servant, the slain lamb.

Amen, and Amen.

We are followers of the Lamb, not the Emperor. We are citizens of the kingdom of Christ; we no longer belong to the kingdoms of this world. We sing, confess and praise because the kingdoms of this world have become the kingdom of Christ. The King of kings and Lord of lords has been enthroned.

Postscript:  The actual author of the text of the Messiah is not Handel but rather Charles Jennens.  Handel added the music to the text.  I have used “Handel’s Messiah” in a conventional way. The theology of the text is more attributable to Jennens than it is to Handel but it is difficult to separate the music and the text as they form a complete whole in this masterpiece.


Reverse the Curse IV – The Ministry of Jesus (Matthew)

August 23, 2008

“…Galilee of the Gentiles–the people living in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the shadow of death a light has dawned” (Matthew 4:15d-16).

“…Jesus began to preach, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is near” (Matthew 4:17)

“Galilee of the Gentiles”? Is that not part of the land of promise? Indeed. That is the point.  It is occupied land. The Assyrians invaded and annexed it in 738 B.C.E.  The land was seized by an alien power, by an ungodly nation from an ungodly nation that was supposed to be a light to the nations. Darkness enveloped Galilee, and it was still occupied when Tiberius reigned in Rome and John the Baptist went into the wilderness to preach and practice a “baptism of repentance.”

Now a new light dawns. The people living in the darkness see a bright light coming from the future; the people living in the shadow of death see the light of life. God makes an appearance; he visits his people to reveal to them the future and enter their brokenness in order to redeem it. They see the coming of the kingdom of God in the person of Jesus; they see the future in Jesus.  Darkness and death, though present in Galilee, will dissipate through the presence of the King of Israel.

Jesus announces that the kingdom of God is near.  Kingdom language is difficult for modern readers since we hear with so much baggage, both cultural and religious. Fundamentally, it is the reign of God.  The appearance of the kingdom is the appearance of the reign of God. 

When God created, he announced his reign over the earth and invited humans to reign with him.  But they chose to reign in their own hearts rather than in God’s story.  When God created Israel, he announced that they were a royal nation designed to reign with God in the world.  But Israel chose their own king, created their own story, and lived in darkness.

But now God himself comes and announces his reign. Immanuel comes to Galillee. The kingdom of God is near. The reign of God rules in and through the person and ministry of Jesus. God has come. The kingdom of God is here, close by and fully invested in the person and ministry of Immanuel. 

Jesus went throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues, preaching the good news of the kingdom, and healing every disease and sickness among the people” (Matthew 4:23).

“…people brought to him all who were ill with various diseases, those suffering severe pain, the demon-possessed, those having seizures, and the paralyzed, and he healed them” (Matthew 4:24b).

The conjunction of the words and deeds of Jesus in this text should give us pause.  Jesus prolaims the good news of the kingdom through teaching in the synagogues and then enacts the good news of the kingdom through a healing ministry.

The phrase “good news of the kingdom” is quite significant.  This is the gospel.  Is this about the death and resurrection of Jesus which is the common definition of the gospel among many? Is Jesus already talking about that? Not yet.  The narrator makes it clear that Jesus does not begin to talk about his death and resurrection until after his transfiguration (Matthew 16:21).

When Jesus is proclaiming the good news of the kingdom in the synagogues of Galilee–providing light in the darkness–he is not talking about his death and resurrection.  So, what is the good news?  It is the good news of forgiveness, of blessing, of compassion, of healing…it is the good news embodied in the very deeds of Jesus himself. The good news is that the curse is being reversed in the lives of people.

His deeds are themselves a parable of the kingdom; they are a witness to the presence of the reign of God.  They are a reversal of the curse. The miracles are not primarily about authentificating his Messianic claim though they do serve that function.  The miracles are not primarily about compassion though they convey the love of God.

Rather, the miracles are kingdom events; they announce the reign of God.  The miracles are the reversal of the curse. Where once there was death, now there is life.  Where once there was blindness, now there is sight. Where once there was pain and mourning, now there is joy. Where once there were tears, now there are smiles. The ministry of Jesus is God breaking into a broken world to reverse the curse.

The good news of the kingdom is that God has visited his people–he has entered his creation–to reverse the curse. The good news of the kingdom is that God intends to redeem, restore and renew his people so that he might once again rest in the goodness of his creation and enjoy his people.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.

Matthew 5:3-5

As we move read through Matthew’s narrative in chapters 4-5, he announces the coming of the light into the darkness, identifies the teaching and deeds of Jesus as the reign of God, and articulates the blessedness of the kingdom come near.

When the kingdom comes near, the humble are blessed because they enjoy the reign of God rather than the arrogant and proud.

When the kingdom comes near, the grieving are blessed because they are comforted rather than the boasting triumphant.

When the kingdom comes near, those with gentle strength are blessed because they will inherit the earth rather than ambitious empire-builders.

The kingdom has come near, but it has not fully arrived.  The ministry of Jesus is a witness to the coming full reign of God.  Only when there is “no more curse” will the kingdom have fully arrived.  But it is here, even now, but it is not fully here, as yet.

Even now the reversed curse can be experienced, but it is not yet fully experienced.  Even now the humble can rejoice in the reign of God even though they are still mocked by the arrogant.  Even now mourners can be comforted even as they still shed tears.  Even now the meek can enjoy their inheritance even though the earth still groans for release from the bondage of human arrogance and empire-builders.

Our blessedness is found in both the present and the future. Even now we are blessed but there is much more awaiting us. We wait for the full reign of God and thus we pray, as Matthew records (6:10), “Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is heaven.”

There is hope, but it is not yet seen….except it has been seen in the ministry of Jesus and experienced in our lives in ways. The ministry of Jesus is the proleptic presence of the reign of God, our experience is the authentic experience of that reign, and our hope is that the reign of God will fill the earth so that the will of God will be done on earth just as it is in heaven.

We hope, we rejoice and we wait.


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