John Mark Hicks

Houston Chronicle (1921)

To the Editor of the Chronicle.

I desire to reply through your columns to some questions that have been propounded to me by private letter as follows:

“I read both the News and The Chronicle. Will you please state through one of these papers or both, for my information and that of some others, why you claiming to be a Christian, so bitterly hate klansmen of today? As you are a preacher you must know that the Bible teaches us to love all men, even our enemies, and condemns hatred for any man or any thing. I know it teaches this, for I, myself, am well acquainted with the Bible, as well as yourself. I have been creditably informed that you belonged to the klan in reconstruction days. Now, as the klan of that day and the klan of today were born of the same spirit and for the same purpose, how can you, as a former member of the klan, feel justified in being so inconsistent as to now oppose what you then indorsed and were? Of course you will not be so unethical with me as to have my letter published, when I ask you not to!”

But I do not consider it “unethical” to publish the interrogational part of your letter withholding your name. How else could I comply with your request in the informational way you asked for?

Please pardon me for saying, since you request that your identity be not disclosed, while asking me to step out into The Chronicle’s wide field and exhibit my identity to its multiplied thousands of readers favors of cowardice on your part. If you desire to know why I say this, I’ll tell you in advance of your asking why. Merely to gratify your curiosity you ask me to take the risk of being tarred and feathered and lashed, if not killed, for you know many klansmen will read my reply to your questions and I feel quite sure that every mother’s son of them will take offense at what I shall say, for I shall tell the truth about their klan and its principles and its lack of principles. Many men and not a few defenseless women have been tarred and feathered and whipped by klansmen, and some have been killed, for giving them less offense than the offense I feel sure they will take at my reply to your questions, though it is my sincere desire to give no offense to them or anyone in my answers, but to speak plain, unvarnished truth in the premises.

If I should answer your questions over some nome de plume instead of my correct name I’d feel that I had acted cowardly, and you would, too. But you, it seems are too shy to risk appearing before The Chronicle’s readers as a kluxer, even in a nom de plume attitude. I’m charitable enough to suppose that such cowardice on your part is not inborn, but mask-made.

I will now reply to your questions in as respectful style as my conscience will allow me, though I had decided to never again speak of the klan in any public way—not through either fear of them or favor for them, but because I know the local klans were dying out all over the country, like “sheep with the rot”—but from a worse “rot” than “sheep rot.”

In order that I may reply to your questions as briefly as possible, I answer in the following way: I do not “hate klansmen bitterly” or sourly, or in any way. Some of them are very dear friends of mine and some are my blood kin and some otherwise kin, all of whom I love. But I do “hate” the corrupt and corrupting doctrine and doings of the klan. I do so for many reasons, among which are that it tends toward making cowards out of brave men and liars out of truthful men—so positively _________ ____________ ____________ “hatred of anything.” I’ll try to set you right on this point—though I know it’s an almost impossible task to set a klansman right. The Bible teaches in many places and in various ways that even God Himself “hates sin.” And the inspired Psalmist said, “I hate all false ways.” The ways of the klan are “false ways.” “False” to Christ and Christianity, “false” to our nation and its constitution and Bill of Rights, “false” to our state and its constitution and laws, and “false” to every principle of justice, right, morality, democracy and civilization. And as David said: “Through thy precepts I get understanding, therefore I hate all false ways.” So I say, through the precepts of the Bible and the constitution and laws of our nation and state I get understanding concerning Christianity, morality, democracy and Americanism. Therefore, I hate false ways of the devil and the Ku Klux Klan.

I am an American—yes, a “hundred per cent,” one—but I do not have to write this on a Ku Klux card for it to be so—in fact If I should, I’d know I’d written what was not so.

You never made a greater mistake in your life than you did you said, “the klan of reconstruction days and the klan of today were born of the same spirit and for the same purpose.” The former was born of the spirit of patriotism and for the protection of Southern homes and firesides and womanhood against the carpetbagger vandalism that was then ruthlessly roughshodding our every sacred sentiment and constitutional right under its plundering, rapacious heel. The latter was born of the mercenary greed in the heart of an Atlanta schemer. And its purpose since such birth seems to be to wield political influence through means of intimidation in various ways as a stepping-stone to the control of elections.

As to “inconsistency” on my part because I once belonged to a klan for a the protection of home and womanhood against unconstitutional invasions, and now object to a klan that stands for the invasion of the homes in masked uniform and the dragging of defenseless women from their homes and tarring and feathering and cruelly beating them, I’m wholly unable to visualize the “no consistency” in the premises.

Austin McGary of Willis, Texas.

——–

Thanks to Terry Gardner who supplied this text and discovered the piece. Terry wrote the encyclopedia entry for The Encyclopedia of the Stone-Campbell Movement.

In 1909 David Lipscomb received a note from Nankin, Ohio, describing how Allen county voted “wet” by 36 votes when 800 “dry” Mennonites refused to vote. The angry author laid the “responsibility of the result” at the feet of the Mennonites. The writer noted that since the “supreme power in our government is lodged with the people,” everyone must participate or else responsibility for negative results lies with them (the non-voters).

Lipscomb responded in a classic article entitled “Mennonites” (Gospel Advocate. February 18, 1909, pp. 204-205).  He defends Mennonite practice and says the idea of non-participation “did not originate with” Menno Simons.  When “Jesus refused [Satan’s]  offer” of the kingdoms of his world, he set an example for his disciples.

Others followed that example. Lipscomb cites Justin Martyr, Tertullian and Origen. He depends on Edward Gibbon, Johan Lorenz Mosheim and George Herbert Orchard for his history.  “Nothing in history is surer,” he writes, “than that the churches for the first three centuries held firmly to the doctrine that Christians should not take part in civil institutions. After the conversion of Constantine they were encouraged to engage in political affairs, and many fell from their steadfastness in the faith.” But not all, including the “Waldenses, the Wickliffites, and the Husstites” (quoting Mosheim).  And the Mennonites.

Lipscomb then offers his own theological comment on the practice of the Mennonites. He concludes his brief article with the following three paragraphs. They are a succinct statement of his convictions.

     These are only a few extracts showing the ancient and divine origin of the doctrine held on tis subject by the Mennonites. I believe this the teaching of the Bible, and the true end of the reign of God on earth will never be realized until the children of God work in God’s church. The kingdoms of this world are nowhere recognized as the kingdoms of God, but as the kingdoms of the evil one. They are to be borne and treated with as necessitated by the sinfulness of man, to be overruled by God for the punishment of evil doers, and essential to the well-being and government of the world until the rule of Christ is established. We are to pay our taxes and submit in all things that do not lead away from God into fellowship with these. We should always gratefully accept all favors and laws promoting morality and virtue. But we cannot take part in the human governments.

     I think no greater evil can befall the churches of Jesus Christ than for them to enter the field of politics, drink into the spirit of the civil powers, and look to them for help in enforcing morality and in carrying out the law and the righteousness of the Bible. The more widely the church and the State can be kept apart in their operations, the better for both. The reason of this is, they are diverse in  nature and character, and must be run on different and antagonistic principles. For a man, as a Christian, to enforce a principle of morality or righteousness on his fellow-man by civil law is persecution. The church of God is the embodiment of spiritual influences that conquer through love and self-sacrifice; the civil government is the embodiment of material influence and forces that conquer by physical power. The two cannot be moved by the same spirit or work harmoniously in the same hands. The civil ruler that would be moved by the spirit of Christ, that would die to save a victim from death, would not be a successful civil ruler. While the church and the civil government cannot work harmoniously in the same hands and in the same channel, and while some men are wicked and corrupt and all are weak and short-sighted, under the laws of God they may both be in the world, and yet his people be not of the world, and they may be helpful to each other. The church doing its duty must keep a moral sentiment alive that will help the world and afford a standard of right on which the civil government will rest, and the government can afford protection and help to the Christian. For this latter protection the Christian should pay his taxes and submit to all laws of the government not conflicting with the laws of God.

     I am always sorry to see Christians engage in politics.I am sorry to see them become interested in working to put others in office. I ams sorry to see them seek office; sorry to see them given office, for it demoralizes them and leads others wrong. I am glad to see Christians stand for God and his truth even when the opposite course seems to bring good. Much good of an earthly character, moral and temporal, is offered to lead away from God. Men must learn to stand like these Mennonites for the truth against temporal good.

“Thus, endeth the lesson. “

In light of the Occupy Movement and the interests of the wealthy, I thought I wold share a piece that bears God’s interest in testing the wealthy with wealth.

1 Chronicles 29:1-20

The testing motif fills the story line of Scripture. Abraham is tested (Genesis 22:1). Israel is tested (Deuteronomy 8:1-5). Job is tested (Job 23:1-12). Jesus is tested (Matthew 4:1-11). Paul is tested (1 Thessalonians 2:4). Believers are tested (Judges 2:22; 3:4; Psalm 17:3; 66:10; Isaiah 48:10; Zechariah 13:9; 2 Corinthians 8:8; James 1:12). The world is tested (Revelation 3:10). Believers pray for testing (Psalm 26:2; 139:23). As God seeks hearts, God tests them.

Testing the Wealthy

In 1 Chronicles 28-29, David gathers Israel for a liturgical coronation of Solomon as king. David called Israel together in a holy assembly (cf. 1 Chronicles 13:5; 15:3). David calls this gathering an “assembly of the Lord” (1 Chronicles 28:8) and invites the whole assembly to “praise the Lord your God” (1 Chronicles 29:20; cf. 29:1, 10). Israel assembles to praise God on the occasion of Solomon’s coronation. David construes part of this praise as the responsibility to share their wealth.

In 1 Chronicles 28, David reminded the leaders of Israel of God’s gracious election of Israel and God’s dynastic promise to David which is now focused in Solomon as temple-builder (1 Chronicles 28:2-7). He then charged Solomon and the leaders to seek God just as he seeks them (1 Chronicles 28:8-10). David then laid out both his plans and his preparations for the building of the temple (1 Chronicles 28:11-21). Just as God gave Moses a “pattern” for the building of the temple (Exodus 25:9, 40), so God gave David a “pattern” for the temple (1 Chronicles 28:11-12, 18-19).

In 1 Chronicles 29, David seeks to solidify support for his temple plans among the people. Consequently, David gathered Israel as a holy convocation, a religious celebration. His purpose is engender support for the new temple–both in terms of recognizing it as a divine work and sharing personal wealth for its construction. Just as Moses sought free-will offerings for the support of the tabernacle (Exodus 25, 35-36), so David seeks free-will offerings for the support of the temple. The people respond generously to David’s plea for support.

The Response (1 Chronicles 29:6-9).

Rather than commanding the people to set aside personal resources for the temple, David seeks to persuade them. Japhet summarizes the rhetorical quality of this appeal with five items[1]: (a) the task is too enormous for any single person; (b) Solomon “is young and inexperienced;” (c) David models generosity; (d) David details some of the “necessary items;” and (e) David’s final question is “pregnant with expectation.” This persuasive appeal is a model for leaders. The task before them is communal, necessary, a matter of dedication to God and modeled by leaders.

The beginning and end of the appeal are important. The beginning appeal is a communal one. The task is great and Solomon needs help. Even though Solomon is God’s “chosen one,” he is still “young and inexperienced.” Even God’s elect servants need community. The community must help build God’s “palatial structure.” The designation of the temple as a palace (cf. 1 Chronicles 29:19) reflects royal interests. This is the only time in the Hebrew canon where the temple is so described. Williamson believes that Chronicles intentionally reminds its readers that though Solomon is king, “the kingdom ultimately belongs to God.”[2] God lives in his palace.

The final appeal is inspirational in character: “Now, who is willing to consecrate himself today to the LORD?” The verb “consecrate” is literally “to fill the hand” which is technically “associated with the induction of a priest into his office” (cf. Exodus 28:41; 29:29; 32:29).[3] The dedication of gifts to the Lord is a priestly act on the part of Israel. As Johnstone comments, “By their free-willing offerings, the leadership and, by extension, the whole community, are dedicating themselves, as it were, by ordination as the priestly people of God. Holiness, as sacramentally focused on the Temple, is the realized ideal for the community as a whole.”[4] The act of sacrificial giving is a priestly act; it is a sacrifice to the Lord (cf. Hebrews 13:16). Thus, “it is not simply the gift that is consecrated to God but the giver. As one bids the gift farewell, one takes on a new role before God, a role of consecration to the service of God.”[5]

Sandwiched between these two appeals are David’s gifts to the temple which arise out of two resources: his official capacity (1 Chronicles 29:2) and his personal piety (1 Chronicles 29:3-4). David provides effective leadership by modeling the piety of giving. The Hebrew term behind “personal treasures” is only used elsewhere for Israel as God’s own treasured possession (Exodus 19:5; Deuteronomy 7:6; 14:2; 26:18; Psalm 135:4; Malachi 3:17). As David models for Israel, God has already modeled for David. David gives to God as God has given to Israel.

The leaders of Israel responded generously. The term “gave willingly” is used 7x in 1 Chronicles 29 (5, 6, 9[2], 14, 17[2]), and it describes Israel’s response to Moses in Exodus 25:21, 29. The people saw their gifts of their leaders and “rejoiced” just as David did (where the Hebrew reads: “he rejoiced with great rejoicing;” 1 Chronicles 29:9). The joy was rooted in the spiritual significance and generosity of the gifts. They were an expression of the leaders wholehearted devotion “to the Lord” (1 Chronicles 28:9; 29:9). This was not about a building per se. Rather, it was an act of priestly dedication fitting for a holy nation that God intended to be a “kingdom of priests” (Exodus 19:5).

McConville comments that “people are closest to God-likeness in self-giving, and the nearer they approach God-likeness the more genuinely and rightly they become capable of rejoicing.” Thus, this self-giving was a reflection of Old Testament joy rather than grudging duty. The Old Testament’s “presentation of man’s relationship with God is above all in terms of joy” and wholehearted devotion that rejects “the path of self-gratification.”[6] God loves a cheerful giver (2 Corinthians 9:7).

David Blesses the Lord (1 Chronicles 29:10-20)

This is one of the most paradigmatic prayers in Scripture. It is “one of the best examples of prayer-forms” in the Bible[7] and “probably the best known passage in the Book of Chronicles.”[8] The prayer is steeped in theological significance for both David and the Chronicler.[9] It acknowledges that the kingdom belongs to God, and that the whole earth belongs to the Lord. It thanks God for the grace he has demonstrated to Israel and his dynamic activity in the world for the sake of his people. It appeals to God’s heart to move in the hearts of Israel. The prayer assumes a dynamic, active God who yearns for his people and supplies their every need. This confidence evokes praise, but it also evokes a confidence that enables generosity. Paul makes a similar appeal to the Corinthians in a didactic context (1 Corinthians 9:6-15). David does it in a liturgical prayer (notice the seven direct addresses to God). Even though this prayer speaks to God, but it also teaches God’s people.

David’s prayer is a blessing. While the NIV reads “David praised the Lord” (1 Chronicles 29:10), the Hebrew reads David “blessed” the Lord. To “bless” God is certainly to praise him and perhaps they are rough equivalents. However, Dawes has argued that blessing God “is about acknowledging him, giving him due honor,” an honor that belongs to no other.[10] It affirms that he is the only true God (cf. Psalm 134:1-3; 135:19-21) and usually responds to some mighty act of divine revelation (cf. Exodus 18:10; Deuteronomy 8:10).

The blessing links the present experience of Israel to the past and secures the future. The eternal God is the Lord who was with “Israel” (Jacob), and is now with David, and will always be with the children of Israel. The assurance that David draws from the eternal God as the God of his “father Israel” is the same assurance the postexilic community can draw. The Lord is the God of Israel yesterday, today and forever (cf. Hebrews 13:8).

The first stanza of the blessing (1 Chronicles 29:11a) reflects Israel’s worship language. Braun points out the following parallels: (1) “greatness” (Psalms 71:21; 145:3, 6); (2) “power” (Psalms 89:14; 90:10; 106:2, 8; 145:11, 12; 150:2); (3) “glory” (Psalms 71:8; 78:61; 89:18; 96:6); “splendor” (Psalms 8:1; 21:5; 45:3; 96:6; 104:1; 111:3; 145:5) and “in heaven and earth” (Psalms 115:15; 121:2; 123:1; 124:8; 134:3; 135:6).[11] This doxological language ascribes to God what rightly belongs to him as the sovereign Creator. He fills the earth and all majesty belongs to him. This praise language heaps up terms to exalt the one who has eminence in the earth.

The second stanza (1 Chronicles 29:11b-12) locates the reign of God in Israel’s situation. While the Lord reigns over all the earth and everything belongs to him, on this occasion God has demonstrated his reign in Israel. The references to “wealth and honor” refer to the occasion of dedicatory gifts to the temple and enthronement of Solomon. The God of Israel is the real king of Israel. The “kingdom” belongs to him. He is “head over all” and the “ruler” (Psalms 22:29; 59:14; 66:7; 89:10) of all things. “Strength and power” are associated with his reign and he decides whom he will exalt. God alone (“in your hands”) is able to glorify Israel, its king and people. Thus, the reign of God over Israel is manifested in the election of Solomon and the wealth that flows to the temple. In his sovereignty God has gifted Israel with wealth.

The heart of the prayer is David’s reflection on Israel’s situation before this sovereign God (1 Chronicles 29:13-17). It is a thanksgiving that acknowledges that God is actively testing Israel with this gift of wealth. God’s gifts to Israel enable their gifts to him. This thanksgiving and praise is offered on the particular occasion of Israel’s monetary support of the temple.

The contrast between 1 Chronicles 29:13 and 1 Chronicles 29:14 is important. The verbs “thanks” and “praise” are participles which suggest the ongoing nature of the action, that is, “Here we are thanking and praising [you]….but—and the word is strongly emphasized—what is our status before God?”[12] It is a contrast between the greatness of God and the frailty of humanity.

1 Chronicles 29:14-17 supports the thanksgiving of 1 Chronicles 29:13. The first part emphasizes human dependence (1 Chronicles 29:14-16) while the second stresses human integrity (1 Chronicles 29:17). Thanksgiving comes from the recognition that “everything comes” from God’s “hand” (1 Chronicles 29:14, 16). The metaphor of God’s “hand” serves as the binding concept for 1 Chronicles 29:14-16 and links it with 1 Chronicles 29:12. With the realization that God has given this wealth for the building of the temple comes the concomitant praise and thanksgiving. The generosity of the people is dependent upon the generosity of God. Israel is dependent upon God for their wealth: “Who am I, and who are my people, that we should be able to give as generously as this?” Generosity does not flow from pride, but from humility. It flows from dependency, not self-sufficiency.

This humility and dependency are metaphorically expressed in 1 Chronicles 29:16. Just as “father Israel” in 1 Chronicles 29:10 recalled Israel’s patriarchal heritage, so also the language of “aliens and strangers” (Genesis 23:4; also 17:8; 21:23). This was the plight of Israel’s “forefathers,” and Israel continues its pilgrimage. This seems a bit out of place, however, now that Israel has territorial integrity. How can Israel still be an alien and stranger? It does not refer to the move from nomadic tribes to established king. Rather, Israel still sojourns among the nations as God’s people. It is a spiritual pilgrimage “in your sight,” that is, literally, “before your face.” Israel has always had a sojourner status before God and the allusion to the brevity of life confirms this.[13]

This has tremendous theological significance. First, it is a recognition “that Israel’s privilege to worship Yahweh is not based on right, but on grace.”[14] Israel’s presence in the land, the kingdom of David, the gifts to the temple and everything that Israel has is a demonstration of God’s graciousness. Israel has no claim other than the promise of God. They are “aliens and strangers.” Second, the postexilic community, who felt like “aliens and strangers” in their own land, gained confidence from this graciousness. Their status before God does not depend on temple, king, or land, but upon God’s grace. Third, Christians are also “aliens and strangers” (1 Peter 2:11) in the world, just as Abraham (Hebrews 11:9) and Israel were. As Estes concludes, “Thus, the sojourning of the previous generation of Israel begins to be viewed also as a paradigm for the life of the believer on the earth.”[15] What the Chronicler anticipated by his reflection on his own present community, the New Testament applies to Christians living as exiles in the fallen world (1 Peter).

While 1 Chronicles 29:14-16 stresses human dependency and divine graciousness, 1 Chronicles 29:17 stresses human “integrity.” Integrity is a proper response to divine testing. God is engaged with humanity through testing or probing their integrity. Job is such an occasion of divine testing (Job 1-2; 23:10), but also Abraham (Genesis 22:1), Israel (Deuteronomy 8:2-5), righteous hearts (Jeremiah 11:20; 20:12; cf. Proverbs 17:3), and Hezekiah (2 Chronicles 32:31). The Psalmists pray for it and recognize it in their lives (Psalm 7:9; 11:5; 17:3; 26:2; 66:10; 139:23). God is active and “seeking” a people for himself through testing. God is pleased when his people reciprocate.

David recognizes this occasion as a test, and he rejoices that people’s response demonstrates their faith and integrity. The Hebrew term behind “integrity,” used in two different forms in 1 Chronicles 29:17, means equity or justice (Psalms 9:8; 58:1; 75:2; 96:10; 98:9; 99:4). “Integrity” is an appropriate translation in some contexts (Deuteronomy 9:5; 1 Kings 9:4) but it mainly refers to doing what is right (thus, “uprightness” in the NRSV). The proper response to God’s testing is to do what is right. This “integrity” manifested itself by a willing, joyful gift “with honest intent.” The Chronicler intends this as a model of obedient, grateful response to God’s graciousness. As the narrative unfolds, Chronicles will note thatkKings did what was “right” or they did not do what was “right.” That theological evaluation utilizes the same word that appears in 2 Chronicles 29:17. God is pleased “with honest intent” (or rightfulness), and thus he is pleased with Kings that do what is “right” in his eyes (cf. 2 Chronicles 14:2; 20:32; 24:2; 25:2; 26:4; 27:2; 28:1; 29:2, 34; 31:20; 34:2).

The Chronicler teaches his community how to graciously respond to God’s grace. 2 Corinthians 8 and 9 is another example of such teaching. The theology is the same though the circumstances are different. Paul tests the integrity and sincerity of the Corinthians’ love by exhorting them to give to the poor saints in Jerusalem (2 Corinthians 8:8). His appeal is based upon the grace that God had demonstrated in Jesus Christ (2 Corinthians 8:9). Paul uses the term “grace” more in 2 Corinthians 8 and 9 than in any other section of his writings (8:1, 4, 6, 7, 9, 16, 19; 9:8, 14, 15). The Corinthians ought to “grace” the poor because God has “graced” them so that “grace” (thanks) might return to God.

David prays for the hearts of his people and son. His petition calls for God’s gracious activity in heart. Integrity and uprightness do not simply flow out of human self-resolve. Rather, God works good things in the hearts of his people. God moves in the hearts of people (1 Samuel 10:9; 1 Kings 18:37; Ezra 6:22; Proverbs 21:1) as they move their hearts toward him (Deuteronomy 30:17; 1 Kings 11:9; Jeremiah 5:23; 17:5). He seeks them as they seek him. He enables them as they yearn for him. David’s prayer for his people and his son is a model for all believers as they pray for their churches and their children. The prayer assumes human responsibility, but it also seeks divine activity. Both are complementary and necessary values in God’s relationship with his people.

David’s petition draws on the covenantal promise of God to “Abraham, Isaac and Israel.” The children of Jacob are the children of promise; they are the people of God. David claims this relationship and asks God to “keep this desire in” their “hearts” and “keep their hearts loyal” to him. The heart is the crucial area of relationship with God. God seeks committed, “loyal” hearts which yearn for relationship with him. The “desire” refers to the willing, joyful generosity of 1 Chronicles 27:17. David prays that God will prepare their hearts just as he himself has prepared for the temple (1 Chronicles 29:19, “provided”).

Conclusion

God gives wealth, and God uses that wealth to test the hearts of his people. Will his people consume their wealth and use it for their own purposes, or will his people share their wealth and scatter it according to divine interests (for the sake of the kingdom and the poor; cf. Psalm 112:9 which is quoted in 2 Corinthians 9:9). Wealth tests the integrity of human hearts. What the people of God do with their wealth demonstrates the character of their heart and the nature of their commitment to the kingdom of God.

Endnotes:

[1] Sara Japhet, 1 & II Chronicles: A  Commentary, OTL (Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox, 1993), 503.

[2] H. G. M. Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, NCB (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1982), 184.

[3] Roddy L. Braun, 1 Chronicles, WBC (Waco, TX: Word, 1986), 278.

[4] William Johnstone, 1 and 2 Chronicles, JSOTSup 253 (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997), 1:285.

[5] Leslie C. Allen, 1, 2 Chronicles, CC (Waco, TX: Word, 1987), 189.

[6] J. G. McConville, I & II Chronicles, DSB (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1984), 103.

[7] Peter R. Ackroyd, I & II Chronicles, Ezra, Nehemiah, TBC (London:  SCM Press, 1973), 93.

[8] Allen, 191.

[9] Martin J. Selman, 1 Chronicles: An Initroduction and Commentary, Tyndale (Downers Grove, IL:  InterVarsity Press, 1994), 255-7.

[10] Stephen B. Dawes, “’Bless the Lord’: An Invitation to Affirm the Living God,” Expository Times 106 (1995), 295.

[11] Braun, 284.

[12] Ackroyd, 94.

[13] Daniel J. Estes, “Metaphorical Sojourning in 1 Chronicles 29:15,” Catholic Biblical Quarterly 53 (1991), 49.

[13] Ibid., 47.

[14] Ibid., 49.

If the facts of science should shape our interpretation of Scripture (see my previous post), how do we understand what is happening at the table of the Lord?  Lipscomb uses an argument below that is rooted in an optimistic empiricism but something even more profound as I will explain. See what you think.

“But if this [transubstantiation, JMH] is a miracle, it is the opposite of every miracle mentioned in the Bible. Instead of appeal to the sense to produce faith in the unseen, the belief in the miracle rests in an existing faith contrary to the testimony of the bodily senses. A man’s bodily senses say there is no flesh and blood in the loaf or the wine. It takes a blind faith that sets aside the testimony of the sight, touch, taste, hearing, smelling of the body to believe this. God never required a man to believe a thinking contrary to the witness of his own senses.”

“Jesus said: “Do this [partake of the bread and wine] (DL’s words, JMH) in memory of me.” A memorial of a person or a transaction is not that person or transaction itself reproduced. A memorial is something that reminds one of the person or the thing done.”

“Christ said: ‘This is my body.” “This is my blood.” But did he mean it literally or figuratively? Jesus frequently used words figuratively: as, “Upon tis rock I will build my church.” He did not mean a literal rock nor a material building. He told the woman of Samaria “he would have given [her], living water…Whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall become in him a well of water springing up into eternal life.” (John 4:10-14.) This was no real water of which Jesus spoke. It was a figurative use of the word. How do we determine this? Because to give it a literal meaning would contradict our bodily senses. Jesus called Herod a “fox.” Did he mean he was a literal four-legged animal? No one would so claim. Why not? Because our bodily senses contradict it, and we are forced to conclude it is untrue, or the word is used in a figurative sense. Now this is true when he says of the bread, “This is my body.” Our bodily sense know it is not, and we are compelled to say it is not true, or it is true in a figurative sense. Our bodily senses know it si not, and we are compelled to say it si not true, or it is true in a figurative sense. Our bodily sense are good witnesses to us of material things, and God at no time requires men to reject their testimony in reference to such things. He does not require us to believe the bread and wine are literal body and blood of Christ when all our senses tell us they are not. They are figuratively so. They bring these things to our remembrance,a nd his body and blood are spiritually present to bless our spirits. Our spirits, not our bodies, are blessed in remembering the body and blood of Christ. There is hardly a chapter, especially of John in which words are not so used.”  (David Lipscomb, Gospel Advocate, Dec 19, 1907, p. 807).

Lipscomb’s point has some merit.  Empirical reality, as perceived through the human mind, is a mode (in some sense) of knowledge. But I would suggest that a deeper point is at issue–one which, I think, Lipscomb would also argue if presented to him.

One of the reasons I reject transubstantiation is that it involves the annihilation of creation. Transubstantiation annihilates the presence of the bread and wine in order to replace it with the body and blood of Christ. This dishonors creation itself. The bread and wine are not transfigured into a form of new creation; it ceases to be bread and wine altogether. The telos of creation, however, is not annihilation but transfiguration (redemption in Romans 8). It does not cease to be but becomes new creation; not annihilated but renewed (as Lipscomb himself believed).

So, at the table, the bread does not cease to be bread or the wine cease to be wine. Rather, the bread and the wine become Spiritual (pneumatological and eschatological) means of experiencing the new creation in Christ. Bread and wine, as elements of creation itself, become means of Spiritual communion with the new creation that is Christ.

Transubstantiation does not fit the miracle stories of Scripture where the miracles perfect nature or utilize the elements of nature rather than annihilating or destroying nature. Lipscomb has a point, I think.

This is currently debated among some Roman Catholic scholars  For example, Terence Nichols (Transubstantiation and Eucharistic Presence,” Pro Ecclesia 11 [Winter 2002] 57-75) attempts to understand the miracle of the Eucharist in the context of modern physics while rejecting traditional theories of Thomistic Transubstantiation.

Does this mean we reduce the Supper to a figure or symbol where it becomes just a memorial?  I don’t think so. I think something Spiritual and eschatological is happening at the Eucharistic meal. But I won’t take the space to talk about that here; I have written elsewhere about that.

My point is that one’s theology of creation as empirical reality, as something good that should not be annihilated, and with an eschatological goal of transfiguration mitigates against a traditional, Thomistic understanding of transubstantiation. Something Spiritual happens, something mystical (thus the Greek church calls them the “mysteries”), but it does not subvert or deny creation. Rather, creation (bread and wine) retains its original function, that is, to mediate the presence of God and communion between God and humanity.

My new book, Meeting God at the Shack: A Journey into Spiritual Recovery, is now available.

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Chapter One

What Kind of Book is the Shack?

I will open my mouth with a parable, I will teach you lessons from the past.

Psalm 78:2 (TNIV)

While some have perhaps read The Shack as an actual account, the title page identifies the piece as a “novel.” This is a fictional story. But…it is nevertheless true.

When Paul Young talks about his book, he identifies it as an extended modern parable. Like a parable, the events described are fictional though possible (that is, it is not science fiction). And, like a parable, it becomes a world into which we step to hear something true about God, life and the soul.

The Prodigal Son (Luke 15), for example, is a fictional but true story. As fiction the story has no correspondence in fact, that is, it is not a story about a specific, actual family. No one walked up to Jesus after the parable to ask the name of the son, which family he came from and into which “far country” he went. Whether it is actual history or not is irrelevant. It is a fictional tale. But the story is nevertheless true. The Prodigal Son says something true about God and his relationship with his children.

A parabolic story draws the listener or reader into the world of the parable so that we can see something from a particular angle. A parable is not comprehensive theology, but a story-shaped way of saying a particular thing. As a piece of art rather than didactic prose, it allows a person to hear that point in an emotional as well as intellectual way. It gives us imagery, metaphor, and pictures to envision the truth rather than merely describing it in prose. Rather than analyzing propositions, we become part of a parable’s narrative. We are free to experience our own life again as we are guided by the storyteller.

Parables, as the parables of Jesus often do, sucker-punch us so that we begin to see something we had not previously seen about ourselves, God or the world. They speak to us emotionally in ways that pure prose does not usually do, much like music, art and poetry are expressive in ways that transcend discursive or academic descriptions. This enables the right side (the artsy side) of our brains to connect with what the left side (the analytical side) of our brain thinks about. We can feel these truths rather than simply think about them. As a result those truths can connect with our guts (our core beliefs about ourselves) in ways that our intellect cannot reach. The truths, then, can settle into our hearts as well as our minds.

The Shack is, I think, a piece of serious theological reflection in parabolic form. It is not a systematic theology. It does not cover every possible topic nor reflect on God from every potential angle. That is not its intent. That would be too much to expect from a parable. The “Prodigal Son,” for example, is not a comprehensive teaching about God.

Rather, the focus of The Shack is rather narrow. Fundamentally, given my own experience and hearing Young talk about his intent, I read the book as answering this question:

How do wounded people journey through their hurt to truly believe in their gut that God really loves them despite the condition of their “shack”?

The parable is about how we feel about ourselves in our own “shacks.” Do we really believe—deep in our guts, not just in our heads—that God is “especially fond” of us? How can God love us when our “shacks” are a mess? The parable addresses these feelings, self-images and woundedness.

The theology of The Shack engages us at this level. It encourages us to embrace the loving relationship into which God invites us. Consequently, it does not answer every question, address every aspect of God’s nature or reflect on every topic of Christian theology. Instead, it zeros in on the fundamental way in which wounded souls erect barriers that muzzle the divine invitation to loving relationship.

When reading The Shack as serious theological reflection, it is important to keep in mind two key points. First, Young wrote the story to share his own journey into spiritual recovery with his kids. His family recognizes that he is “Mack,” that Missy is his own lost childhood, and Mack’s encounter with God over a weekend is a telescoped parable of his own ten year journey to find healing. It is a story into which Young’s children could enter to understand their father’s journey from tragedy to hope, from barrenness to relationship with God.

Second, it is serious theology in that he shares a vision of God that is at the root of his healing. The parable teaches truth–the truth he came to believe through the process of his own recovery and healing. The “truth,” however, is not that God is an African American woman (a metaphor which has angered some). That is simply a parabolic form. Rather, the truth is that God is “especially fond” of Paul (Mack) despite his “shack” (his “stuff”).

This message, once it found a publisher, became available for others beyond his children. It has now become a parable for other readers, and Young invites us to see that the truth he discovered in his own recovery is true for every one of us. God is “especially fond” of each of us no matter what the condition of our “shacks”.

In the brief chapters that follow I will use Young’s parable as an occasion for thinking about some significant themes in spiritual recovery. The Shack will provide the fodder but I will not limit myself to Young’s book in developing the themes. Using the novel as a starting place, I will pursue these themes in the context of my own spiritual journey as well as placing them within the Story of God as told in Scripture.

While one aspect of my purpose is to discern whether The Shack deserves the hostility that some have given it, my larger intent is to reflect on spiritual recovery in the context of my own journey to find healing. We will walk along side Mack as he receives a vision of God which wounded people need and want to hear—a vision available in Scripture itself.

So, I invite you to reflect on these themes with me—to process them within your own journey, out of your own woundedness and in relationship with your own God.

Should the results of sceince ever revise our interpretations of Scripture?

There was a time when, according to our Stone-Campbell forefather, people believed that “the sun moved around the earth; they interpreted the Bible to say so.” But when “the investigation of the laws of the material world proved the earth moves around the sun,” their interpretation of the Bible changed because the “truths of science” and the “truths of the Bible” do not contradict.

For centuries people “understood the first chapter of Genesis said that the world was created in the six days enumerated in this chapter. The truths of geology led to the study of this matter–lo!–the Bible does not say this.”

“A truth in the material world thus helps us to understand the great foundation and far-reaching truths of the spiritual world….The phenomena of the material world are the records of God’s work in the world of matter through the ages that are passed.” They must not be ignored.

Facts of science–truths about the material world–are interpretative aides for understanding Scripture. “The theory of evolution–and, in deed, the science of geology–claim that in the material wold the simpler forms of life were in point of time first developed; afterwards, those more complex; that in point of time there has been a regular gradation in both animal and plant life from the simplest up to the highest forms of life…These facts are true in nature…The Bible plainly teaches these as facts, and the facts of the material world, so far as they have been determined, fully corroborate the Scripture statement. These facts, given in both nature and the Bible, are the grounds for the theory of evolution.”

Humanity “stands at the head of all created beings and is the best and highest of material beings, and that all preceding creations in the material world were preparatory steps and stages in refining the material out of which man is made and by which his life is sustained, is positively affirmed in the Bible and corroborated by the known facts of nature. When his highest mechanism of God was completed, God breathed into it a spirit that differentiated it from all the lower creation and allied it to the spirits and to God himself.”

“I believe life had existed on the earth previously to the six days’ work of Gen. 1. The Bible nowhere contradicts this. Man and the higher order of animals and plants did not exist before this.”

“Could we adopt the idea that the six days were long periods of time, we could reconcile it all; but this seems a forced and unnatural meaning of the Bible statement, and I greatly object to these. The statement seems to contemplate our ordinary days. So I say there are some things here that we do not understand.”

“My study of these things has caused me to revise my conceptions of the teaching of the Bible, but the comparison of the facts and truths of the natural world with those of the Bibl log since banished all apprehension of the least contradiction between them.”

Who said this?

None other than David Lipscomb, Salvation from Sin, ed. by F. B. Shepherd (Nashville: McQuiddy Publishing Co., 1913) in his two chapters “Evolution and the Bible” and “Geology and the  Bible” (pp. 347-375).

Think we can learn anything from his example?

On Christmas Eve, my wife Jennifer and I attended the communion and candlelight service at Woodmont Christian Church in Nashville.  The contemplative combination of Word and Table was what we were seeking that evening and it was a meaningful experience.

The Table was served by congregants coming to the front and receiving the bread from the minister and we were then invited to dip the bread into the wine. The technical name for this is “intinction” (from the Latin intinctio meaning to “dip in”). It has been practiced for centuries in many traditions and is widely practiced in liturgical churches.

We each have our own peculiarities, I suppose, but intinction is not my preferred mode of experiencing communion. I find it much too reductionistic.

I don’t like a dip in wine or grape juice ; I would actually like to drink it. I prefer the experience of drinking.

At the same time, I don’t like eating a pinched piece of bread or cracker; I would actually like to eat it rather than swallow a pill or simply get a taste. I prefer eating and drinking rather than a mere tasting.

Moreover, I actually prefer a meal for the Lord’s Supper; it is called a “supper,” right? It is a called a “table” rather than an “altar”; it is for eating and drinking rather than a procession of ceremonial tasting. I prefer the full experience of a table meal rather than a “wine tasting,” or a minimalistic “snack”.

However….and this is a major point–don’t miss it…the efficacy of the sacrament–the power, meaning, and grace of the Eucharist or Lord’s Supper–does not depend on the quantity and quality of the meal. God’s gracious work through the Lord’s Supper is God’s own work, not ours.

By faith we receive what God gives. Whatever we think God does through the Supper (and opinions vary here), God does it, I think, through faith. Consequently, as we receive the Supper in faith, God is actively at work.

It is unfortunate, as far as I am concerned, that we have reduced the Supper of the Lord to eating and drinking small quantities and have even reworked drinking by virtue of intinction. I think we loose something. We lose, for example, the fullness of the meal experience that is part of a communal act of eating.

Nevertheless, when we come to the table, it is God who graces us. We do not grace ourselves. God can work through eating small quantities and even through intinction.

But if I had it my way, I would…..

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.

Part II begins with the passion of Jesus through his resurrection to his exaltation as reigning Lord. At the end of this section is a missional proclamation:  Jesus is King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

Handel weaves together texts from John, Isaiah, Psalms, Lamentations, Romans and Revelation to tell this story. He uses the following and in this order:

• John 1:29b
• Isaiah 53:3a, 4-5b, 6
• Psalm 22:7-8
• Psalm 69:20
• Lamentations 1:12
• Isaiah 53:8
• Psalm 16:10
• Psalm 24:7-8
• Romans 10:15
• Psalm 2:1–4, 9
• Revelation 19:6
• Revelation 11:15
• Revelation 19:16

One of the more fascinating aspects of Part II is that the resurrection only gets on brief, but significant, musical piece. Though brief, it is at the center of Part II. Psalm 16:10–“But Thou didst not leave His soul in hell; nor didst Thou suffer Thy Holy One to see corruption”–is the hinge that swings the door from passion to exaltation.

The first half of Part II is focused on the cross, lament and atonement. The opening line–“Behold the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of the world” (John 1:29b)–sets the tone for the first half and leads us into Isaiah 53 which bookends the passion story:  “He was despised and rejected…for the transgression of Thy people was He stricken.” Isaiah 53 is the substance of Handel’s presentation of the atonement and highlighted by the fact that three of the five Isaianic texts are choral arrangements.

But lament gets equal billing but in a different way. The arrangements here are solos and the only choral piece is the voice of the mockers at the cross (“He trusted in God that He would deliver Him, let Him deliver Him, if He delights in Him,” Psalm 22:8). The other pieces in this section are tenor presentations–they are the voice of the sufferer though in the third person. He is mocked (Psalm 22:7), “full of heaviness” (Psalm 69:20), and experiencing incomparable sorrow (Lamentations 1:12). We get a deep sense of loneliness and isolation as the tenor voices the sorrow of the crucified one.

Nevertheless, we are reminded by Isaiah 53:8 that his suffering is for the sake of others. It is not about him, but about us.

But! “But Thou didst not leave His soul in hell” (Psalm 16:10). Here is the slim hinge, the brief announcement by the tenor voice. However, the voice rings as a herald rather than in the solemnity of sorrow. Something has happened; something has changed.

The chorus twice repeats Psalm 24:7-8:  “Lift up your heads, O ye gates…the King of Glory shall come in!” This is not a description of resurrection but the command that the gates of heaven open so that the King may enter. Jesus has defeated death, the great enemy.  “The Lord [is] mighty in battle.”

But is it just about death? Here a major theme from Part I re-enters the Messiah. Instead of pursing the death of death, Handel turns his attention–through the use of Psalm 2–to the submission of the nations. The kingdom theme emerges as the pinnacle of the Messiah’s triumph. The King of Glory defeats the nations.

Amazingly, instead of pursuing some kind of individualistic notion of salvation, Handel focuses on the nations. The nations are aligned against the Messiah. Instead of talking about sin and death, Handel sings about  the powers of the earth. The Messiah defeated the principalities and powers of this world. Nations (the Empire) crucified him–“the kings of the earth rise up, and the rulers take counsel together against the Lord, and against His anointed”–and by his resurrection Jesus defeats the nations. He “break[s] their bonds” and from his dwelling in heaven “laugh[s] them to scorn.” He breaks the nations like a “potter’s vessel.” The powers are defeated. Something has happened; something has changed.

This is, according to Handel, “the gospel of peace” (Romans 10:15). The good news is the submission of the nations and the defeat of the powers of this world. “Beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace” (Romans 10:15).

That Handel’s focus is on the nations and powers rather than on sin and personal salvation is evident from the famous “Hallelujah Chorus” that concludes Part II.  It is worth quoting in full (from Revelation 19:6b; 11:15; 19:16):

Hallelujah!
for the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth.
The kingdom of this world is become
the kingdom of our Lord and His Christ;
and He shall reign for ever and ever.
King of Kings, and Lord of Lords.
Hallelujah!

This glorious praise chorus is not about the resurrection. Rather, it is about the exaltation and enthronement of the Lamb that was slain. It is the slain Lamb that becomes King and joins the Lord God on the throne over heaven and earth.

The announcement which excites heaven and earth (Hallelujah!) is the center piece of this chorus: the kingdoms of the world no longer reign. It is now the kingdom of Christ.

Handel’s Messiah does not locate salvation in a personal flight to heaven after death. Rather, it locates salvation in the reign of God over heaven and earth. The mission of God is to once again rule the earth in a way that transforms and renews it so that it will become the kingdom of Christ–a reign of peace, righteousness and  rest.

Heaven breaks out in “Hallelujah” because God reigns….because God has defeated the nations and now His Christ is “King of kings and Lord of lords.” This is a reign of peace; it is the good news of peace. It is the Prince of Peace who reigns.

Part I moves us from the prophetic anticipation of the coming kingdom through the appearance of the Christ child to a conclusion in the ministry of Jesus.  At the heart of this movement is a missional vision–God comes to give rest to the nations.

Handel weaves together texts from Isaiah, Haggai, Zechariah, Malachi, Luke and Matthew to tell this story. He uses the following and in this order:

• Isaiah 40:1-2a, 3-5
• Haggai 2:6-7a
• Malachi 3:1b-3
• Matthew 1:23 (quoting Isaiah 7:14)
• Isaiah 40:9
• Isaiah 60:1
• Isaiah 9:2, 6
• Luke 2:8-11, 13-14
• Zechariah 9:9a, 10b
• Isaiah 35:5-6a
• Isaiah 40:11
• Matthew 11:28-30

Isaiah 40–the announcement of good news to Israel in Babylon–frames and punctuates Part I. God is going to act–leveling every mountain and exalting every valley in order to make a level highway through the wilderness, and “all flesh” will see the glory of God (40:1-5).  The good news is that God will come again to Jerusalem (40:9). God will gather his lambs and carry them in his arms (40:11). This the shape of Park 1.  We anticipate the coming of God, God comes in the flesh, and the incarnate God shepherd leads us to peace and rest.

At the center is the incarnation, a child is born (Isaiah 9:6).  Previous to this choral announcement of the birth is prophetic anticipation (Matthew 1:23 quoting Isaiah 7:14) and following it is celebration (Luke 2:8-11, 13-14; Zechariah 9:9a. 10b).

The choice of Haggai and Malachi in the first third of Part I is significant. The prophets anticipate that when God comes he will “shake the nations” (Haggai 2:7a) and “purify the sons of Levi” (Malachi 3:3). As a result, “all nations shall come” (Haggai 2:7a) and Israel will worship “in righteousness” (Malachi 3:3). This shaking and refining has cosmic dimensions. When God comes to his temple, everything will change.

The incarnation is pictured as the coming of light into the darkness. “Darkness covers the earth,” but the light of God arrives–“thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen” upon the earth (Isaiah 60:1-2). This is the good news of Isaiah 40:9. And the light that has come is equated with the birth of the child (Isaiah 9:6). Significantly, “the Gentiles shall come to thy light, and kings to the brightness of thy rising” (Isaiah 60:3).

The choral arrangement of Isaiah 9:6 is thrilling and a highlight of Part I. It is the announce of a new government, a new reign. This king is not the violent tyrants of the Ancient Near East but the “Prince of Peace.” A new king has come, and all other kings must submit and acknowledge him. All other kings must lay their crowns at his feet.

The significance of this birth is that “in the city of David, a Saviour, which is the Christ the Lord” (Luke 2:11).  In the context of the Greco-Roman world, this is political language.  The Emperor is the Savior of the world; Ceasar is Lord. But the royal city has produced a new king–the one who will save the world through his reign. The Emperor has a competitor; all the kings of the earth have a competitor.

The angels celebrate this birth with their own song which Handel makes a choral piece. The song reveals the divine intent:  “Glory to God in the highest, and peace on earth, goodwill towards men” (Luke 2:14). God is glorified as peace comes to the earth. The reign of “Christ the Lord” is the reign of a peaceable kingdom.

Brilliantly, Handel follows this choral piece with the exhortation of Zechariah 9:9a–“rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion” because “they King cometh.” But who is he? “He is the righteous Saviour, and He shall speak peace unto the heathen” (based on Zechariah 9:9b, 10b). Handel supplies “Saviour” in order to connect with the previous quotation from Luke (and Zechariah 9:9b does say “having salvation”), and combines this with a phrase from the next verse in Zechariah.  The Savior will “speak peace to the nations” (NIV).

Handel then identifies something of this peace. He gives content to this salvation. Quoting from Isaiah 35:5-6a, salvation comes in the form of the blind seeing, the deaf hearing, the dumb singing and the lame walking. Light dispels the darkness and heals the brokenness.

The healing ministry of this new king is then portrayed as the actions of a gentle Shepherd. The Alto-Soprano duet invites us to come to Jesus where we will find rest (Matthew 11:28-30). The choral conclusion assures us that “His yoke is easy and His burden is light.”

Part I is an invitation. We are invited to rest and peace. The ground of this invitation is a divine act of salvation–to save the world by giving birth to a new king who inaugurates a kingdom of peace and rest.

“All flesh” will see this. The nations will come to it. The kings of the earth will recognize it. Israel will be refined by it. Peace will reign upon the earth and God will give rest to the earth.

Handel invites us to “come” and be comforted.