This post has been rewritten, keeping the substance, but deleting some of the extraneous matter.
My previous post addressed Jesus learning obedience in his childhood. This post examines his young adulthood. In our culture, we could just as easily say his adulthood, for the event I will be addressing happens when Jesus is nearing 30.
This incident once again involves his obedience to his mother. I think this incident in the life of Jesus seriously challenges the current societal delusion that something magical takes place on the day one turns 18, that all of a sudden, BOOM, you become an adult, and then nobody can tell you what to do any longer. This ideation can hardly be supported Biblically, though there is no question that one's responsibilities become broader when one reaches adulthood. However, the Western ideal of total autonomy is a delusion, as is the idea that one is ever totally free from any obligation to parents.
The incident in Jesus' life is the wedding feast at Cana as recorded in John 2. The story is familiar: the host of the wedding has miscalculated in the amount of wine which was needed for the party. He has run out of wine, and the family is likely on the edge of a social disgrace and humiliation. Mary finds out about the dilemma, and she calls Jesus in for the rescue.
The interchange between Jesus and his mother is fascinating. "Son, they have no wine." Jesus, "Woman, what to me and to you?" -- a literal rendering of the Greek. Mary, to the servants, "That which he says to you, do it." What is going on here? How do we understand this dialogue and Jesus' enigmatic, cryptic response to his mother?
The various translations differ here. Some follow the KJV to the effect of "Woman, what do I have to do with you?" Others turn this around, following another textual witness, and make this "Woman, what do you have to do with me?" Jesus follows this up with the statement, "My hour is not yet come," implying that he is rebuking his mother for having overstepped her bounds of authority in some manner, perhaps in attempting to command control over those aspects of Jesus' divinity. Others make this more general, "Woman, what has this to do with us?" In other words, ""Woman, this is none of our business," or "Woman, this is no concern of ours, it is the responsibility of others, let them care for it on their own."
A young person from our modern generation may understand Jesus to be rebuking his mother here, saying to her something on the order of, "Woman, what do you have to do with me? I am an adult now, and I need to be able to make my own decisions. You do not have any authority over me any longer, so you really shouldn't be ordering me around!" In fact, I can hear the argument for this interpretation now, and that is that Jesus is simply setting his boundaries; he is engaging in emotionally healthy behavior, and he is gently letting his mother know that she is violating his personal space, and that she is infringing upon his autonomy as a person.
I so not think that this argument can be supported from the text, for it does not fit very well with Jesus' actions. You see, Jesus did what his mother instructed him to do. Mary says to the servants, "Whatever he says to you, do it." Jesus calls for the water pots, and turns the water into the wine. Mission accomplished. Jesus has obeyed his mother's implicit instructions, he has fulfilled them right to the T.
In so doing, Jesus has honored his mother. Whether or not there is an overstepping of personal boundaries is perhaps a valid point of discussion. However, despite any overstepping that there may have been, Jesus has honored his mother. He has not put her to open shame. He has maintained her dignity, demonstrating his obedience to the command in the law of Moses to honor his father and mother.
I am not certain if Jesus' statement to Mary is intended to be a mild chastisement or not. If it is, I suspect it has far more to do with Mary asking Jesus to demonstrate the power of his divinity than that he is trying to set boundaries concerning any violation of his supposed person. When it comes to allowing people to violate his person, Jesus sets the example; he endured all forms of suffering, yet he never tried to protect himself, neither when it was crucial, did he ever offer any defense. Our Roman Catholic friends refuse to see a rebuke here, and maintain that Jesus was simply addressing according the custom of the day. And that does seem to be the case in Jesus' use of the term "Woman," for that is the way that he also addressed other women in the Gospels.
There is more to be said here, but it will require at least one additional post. Stay tuned, and I will get right on it, before I forget what it is that I desire to say.
Saturday, April 20, 2013
Listening to the Childhood of Jesus.
In my doctoral studies, I have been reading through Jaroslav Pelikan's The Christian Tradition: A History of the Development of Doctrine. I am now in the middle of Volume 3, The Growth of Medieval Theology (600-1300). In the pages that I have been reading, Pelikan is assessing the theology of St. Bernard of Clairveaux, specifically his understanding of the passage in Hebrews where it says that Jesus "learned obedience through the things which he suffered." Bernard's understanding of this is that while it was impossible for the Logos of God to learn anything new, he can learn by experience things which he already knew from eternity, but which he had never before experienced personally experience, or which he had never experienced as a man.
Bernard's understanding is very near to my own, though I perhaps have not been able to articulate it as clearly. According to Pelikan, Barnard writes that what Jesus knew as God, he now experiences as man. As God, he is the healer of human infirmity; as man, he now experiences infirmity himself. Quoting Bernard, Pelikan writes, "I would not say that he is made wiser by his experiences, but he does seem to be nearer to the children of Adam." This sentence struck me; and it combined with some other of my tangential thoughts. And I found myself wondering, "What did Jesus learn about life as a kid, as he was learning obedience at the hands of his parents?"
The New Testament tells us precious little about the childhood of Jesus. Gnostic accounts are filled with fabulous stories, but I discount them, as I do not consider them Scripture. From the writers of Scripture we have far more information about his birth and his infancy that what we do about his childhood. Then we have the big leap to his ministry; it is almost as if his childhood did not exist!
Yet, we have the incident when he was 12, when he was taken to the temple by his parents. After the festivities were over, his parents start for home, "supposing him to be in the company," apparently of other people from Nazareth. But when the company stops for the night, they cannot find him; and so back to Jerusalem they go. They find Jesus in the temple, and they get after him a bit. I can hear it now, "Jesus, what on earth are you doing?" "What's up, Mom and Dad, did you not know that I would be about my [true] Father's business?"
My children struggled when their personal convictions violated mine. "Dad," they would argue, "You taught us to live by our convictions, and to do what we believe the Lord would have us to do. Why don't you let us? Why do we have to live by your [outdated] convictions? You need to give us the freedom so that we can live by our own!"
Perhaps Jesus could empathize with my children, for it appears as if Mary and Joseph did not agree with Jesus that this was the proper time for him to be able his [true] Father's business. I agree, the text does not specifically state this; however, it certainly implies it, for it says that he "went with them, and [they] came to Nazareth, and [he] was subject unto them" (Luke 2:51 KJV), I am guessing without complaint. And interestingly, the next thing that Luke tells us about is the beginning of Jesus' ministry, started at about the time he was 30. Once again by implication it appears as if it was quite some time before his parents freed him up in order to begin pursuing his ministry.
You may say, "That is really an example of learning obedience through suffering." Well, I disagree, for I suspect that to a child it is. St. Bernard of Clairveaux arguef that Jesus passed through every stage of life sinless, obedient, learning obedience through suffering. In passing through sinless, Jesus sanctified every stage of life, and he left us a pattern, so that as Peter states, we are to follow his steps. And so, even in his childhood, he sets an example that even children can follow.
Bernard's understanding is very near to my own, though I perhaps have not been able to articulate it as clearly. According to Pelikan, Barnard writes that what Jesus knew as God, he now experiences as man. As God, he is the healer of human infirmity; as man, he now experiences infirmity himself. Quoting Bernard, Pelikan writes, "I would not say that he is made wiser by his experiences, but he does seem to be nearer to the children of Adam." This sentence struck me; and it combined with some other of my tangential thoughts. And I found myself wondering, "What did Jesus learn about life as a kid, as he was learning obedience at the hands of his parents?"
The New Testament tells us precious little about the childhood of Jesus. Gnostic accounts are filled with fabulous stories, but I discount them, as I do not consider them Scripture. From the writers of Scripture we have far more information about his birth and his infancy that what we do about his childhood. Then we have the big leap to his ministry; it is almost as if his childhood did not exist!
Yet, we have the incident when he was 12, when he was taken to the temple by his parents. After the festivities were over, his parents start for home, "supposing him to be in the company," apparently of other people from Nazareth. But when the company stops for the night, they cannot find him; and so back to Jerusalem they go. They find Jesus in the temple, and they get after him a bit. I can hear it now, "Jesus, what on earth are you doing?" "What's up, Mom and Dad, did you not know that I would be about my [true] Father's business?"
My children struggled when their personal convictions violated mine. "Dad," they would argue, "You taught us to live by our convictions, and to do what we believe the Lord would have us to do. Why don't you let us? Why do we have to live by your [outdated] convictions? You need to give us the freedom so that we can live by our own!"
Perhaps Jesus could empathize with my children, for it appears as if Mary and Joseph did not agree with Jesus that this was the proper time for him to be able his [true] Father's business. I agree, the text does not specifically state this; however, it certainly implies it, for it says that he "went with them, and [they] came to Nazareth, and [he] was subject unto them" (Luke 2:51 KJV), I am guessing without complaint. And interestingly, the next thing that Luke tells us about is the beginning of Jesus' ministry, started at about the time he was 30. Once again by implication it appears as if it was quite some time before his parents freed him up in order to begin pursuing his ministry.
You may say, "That is really an example of learning obedience through suffering." Well, I disagree, for I suspect that to a child it is. St. Bernard of Clairveaux arguef that Jesus passed through every stage of life sinless, obedient, learning obedience through suffering. In passing through sinless, Jesus sanctified every stage of life, and he left us a pattern, so that as Peter states, we are to follow his steps. And so, even in his childhood, he sets an example that even children can follow.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Listening and Wisdom
I am finding that the theme of hearing and listening is very prevalent in the Scriptures, far more so that what I would have first imagined. I have started a sermon series in Proverbs, and there it is again. In the introduction to the book, Solomon writes that the whole key to wisdom, to understanding the words of the wise is to listen. The wise man will hear, and he will increase in learning; and the man of understanding will also listen (meaning implied) and he will attain unto wise counsel. Listening is a key to growth in sound judgment, in the skill of living, which is what the word wisdom means in Proverbs; wisdom ultimately comes from God, God possessed it in Himself at the time that He created the world.
Therefore, what does Solomon advise his children to do? He tells them to hear, to listen. "My son, listen to the instruction of your father, and to not forsake the law of your mother, for they are an ornament of grace unto your head, and they are the chains (of luxurious jewelry) about your neck." Solomon was the king of Israel, the son of the mighty David. He was crowned king. He wore the royal chains. But he tells his son that the real crown, the real symbols of royalty, were the teachings of royalty, were the instructions of royalty, were the input of father and mother, as they taught the son (perhaps the king to be!) to be wise, to be prudent, to be discerning, to have discretion, so that he would keep his feet from evil, so that he would be able to exercise sound judgment, and so that he would be able to properly govern the kingdom.
At the very head of his instruction to his son, Solomon states that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. Fools despise wisdom and instruction. Fools do not listen. Fools will not hear. Fools will not allow instruction and wisdom to guide them. They are full of their own thoughts, they are full of their own ideas; they are so open-minded that their brains leak out. They are easily deceived; they are susceptible to smooth words, or to the words of the con artist, or those who are greedy for gain and who will take advantage of the innocent in order to gain a profit.
This is the antithesis in Proverbs 1. Wisdom cries aloud in the streets. She cries from above, "How long, O you open-minded simpletons, how long will you love your open-minded simplicity?" The sinners cry out as well, the deceivers, the vultures, "Come with us, let us lie in wait for dishonest gain. Throw in your lot with us; we will all have one purse. We will suck out the life of the innocent." To whom will you listen? To whom will you give ear? Wisdom's assessment is that "I cried, but you would not listen; I stretched out my hand, but nobody paid attention to me."
The assessment of Proverbs is that foolishness is bound up in the heart of the children of humanity. How often we prove ourselves to be fools by our inability and unwillingness to listen. We trot off in foolish paths, listening only to our own mind, and we end up destroying ourselves; or, worse yet, we destroy the innocent with our stupidity. We set at naught the counsels of wisdom, and we do not turn at her reproof. And she laughs at us and mocks when our destruction comes as a whirlwind.
O Lord God, teach us Your fear. Teach us to be wise, help us to hear; unstop our ears and help us to listen. Cure us of our idolatry, and teach us the walk in Your ways. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Therefore, what does Solomon advise his children to do? He tells them to hear, to listen. "My son, listen to the instruction of your father, and to not forsake the law of your mother, for they are an ornament of grace unto your head, and they are the chains (of luxurious jewelry) about your neck." Solomon was the king of Israel, the son of the mighty David. He was crowned king. He wore the royal chains. But he tells his son that the real crown, the real symbols of royalty, were the teachings of royalty, were the instructions of royalty, were the input of father and mother, as they taught the son (perhaps the king to be!) to be wise, to be prudent, to be discerning, to have discretion, so that he would keep his feet from evil, so that he would be able to exercise sound judgment, and so that he would be able to properly govern the kingdom.
At the very head of his instruction to his son, Solomon states that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. Fools despise wisdom and instruction. Fools do not listen. Fools will not hear. Fools will not allow instruction and wisdom to guide them. They are full of their own thoughts, they are full of their own ideas; they are so open-minded that their brains leak out. They are easily deceived; they are susceptible to smooth words, or to the words of the con artist, or those who are greedy for gain and who will take advantage of the innocent in order to gain a profit.
This is the antithesis in Proverbs 1. Wisdom cries aloud in the streets. She cries from above, "How long, O you open-minded simpletons, how long will you love your open-minded simplicity?" The sinners cry out as well, the deceivers, the vultures, "Come with us, let us lie in wait for dishonest gain. Throw in your lot with us; we will all have one purse. We will suck out the life of the innocent." To whom will you listen? To whom will you give ear? Wisdom's assessment is that "I cried, but you would not listen; I stretched out my hand, but nobody paid attention to me."
The assessment of Proverbs is that foolishness is bound up in the heart of the children of humanity. How often we prove ourselves to be fools by our inability and unwillingness to listen. We trot off in foolish paths, listening only to our own mind, and we end up destroying ourselves; or, worse yet, we destroy the innocent with our stupidity. We set at naught the counsels of wisdom, and we do not turn at her reproof. And she laughs at us and mocks when our destruction comes as a whirlwind.
O Lord God, teach us Your fear. Teach us to be wise, help us to hear; unstop our ears and help us to listen. Cure us of our idolatry, and teach us the walk in Your ways. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Freedom and the Fruit of the Spirit
I gained a new insight from my study of Galatians 5:13-26 this past week while studying for my third sermon on this passage. The source of the insight was an older commentary I found online. I cannot remember the name of the commentary or its author, otherwise I would cite it here, as what follows is not original with me.
I had always thought this passage compared two different ways of living; one, living under the law, which I had put together with the lusts of the flesh; and two, living in the Spirit, or living according to the Spirit of God, by whom one is able to produce the fruit of the Spirit in one's life.
Through the help of this commentary, however, I have come to see that there are three different kinds of lifestyle being referred to in this passage. The first is living under law, or having an external set of rules and standard by which one orders one's life. The second is living in freedom, but a freedom which is consumed by the flesh. This is truly a freedom; for it lives in disregard for all law. It may be in conformity to some of it -- whatever makes the self feel like a good person -- but otherwise it disregards law and does whatever it pleases. But this is not the freedom for which Christ has set us free. Christ has set us free for a third kind of lifestyle, the lifestyle of love, the lifestyle of service, service to one another in love.
This is a lifestyle which is not lived for the self but for others. This is a lifestyle that fulfills the entirety of the law. Paul states that the entirety of the law is fulfilled in the one command to love one another even as we love ourselves. This is a lifestyle that is not marked by the characteristics of the second kind of freedom, by the striving, by the discontent, by the feuding and fighting that is characteristic of a person who is only serving themselves and trying to get ahead at the expense of everyone else. It is also absent the manipulation and the conniving and the backbiting and the lying of those who are only pursuing their own agenda, or who will stop at nothing, or run over anything and anyone in order to get their own way.
It is the second kind of freedom that is insisted upon by the rebel. It is a freedom, but it is not the freedom of Christ. Even if you add the name of Christ to it, this freedom is still a malicious freedom; it is not kind, it is not gentle, it is not loving, it does not bear under any adversity well. This sets this rebellious freedom apart from the truly Christian freedom that comes from the life of the Spirit. This kind of freedom is kind, it is peaceable, it is loving, it is patient, it does endure under pressure and distress.
This latter freedom comes only at a price, according to Paul. It is the price of crucifixion of the self and its selfish desires. Those who are Christ's have crucified the flesh with is passions and its desires. The second kind of freedom, the rebellious kind, must be left behind, totally and utterly forsaken, if the freedom of the Spirit is ever to manifest itself. Failure to do so leaves the soul in its turmoil, and it brings turmoil and struggle and striving to every situation that encounters. Only in the freedom of the Spirit is there peace.
Those of us who name the name of Christ often live in the rebellious kind of freedom thinking that since we are not under the law we are free to live as we please. But this is far from the truth. We have been released from the law, but we live in fulfillment of it, living in love, having crucified ourselves and our passions and desires in order to live for the glory of Christ. So much of the rebellious lifestyle is contrary to law; it is outlawed behavior, behavior which is illegal, or certainly that which is immoral. The freedom of the Spirit, however, is commendable behavior; we would not even dream of passing a law against it. Who would think of outlawing love as dangerous, or passing a law against gentleness, or making kindness and peace illegal? Thus it is in compliance with law; nay, it supersedes law, for it fulfills the requirements of the law by going above and beyond.
This is the true freedom of the Christian; and it is the link between freedom and the fruit of the Spirit. This is the freedom for which Christ has set us free. This is a freedom which keeps the desires in check; it is a restrained freedom, a freedom from destructive behavior. May God give us grace to live in this kind of freedom until the end of our days here on this earth.
I had always thought this passage compared two different ways of living; one, living under the law, which I had put together with the lusts of the flesh; and two, living in the Spirit, or living according to the Spirit of God, by whom one is able to produce the fruit of the Spirit in one's life.
Through the help of this commentary, however, I have come to see that there are three different kinds of lifestyle being referred to in this passage. The first is living under law, or having an external set of rules and standard by which one orders one's life. The second is living in freedom, but a freedom which is consumed by the flesh. This is truly a freedom; for it lives in disregard for all law. It may be in conformity to some of it -- whatever makes the self feel like a good person -- but otherwise it disregards law and does whatever it pleases. But this is not the freedom for which Christ has set us free. Christ has set us free for a third kind of lifestyle, the lifestyle of love, the lifestyle of service, service to one another in love.
This is a lifestyle which is not lived for the self but for others. This is a lifestyle that fulfills the entirety of the law. Paul states that the entirety of the law is fulfilled in the one command to love one another even as we love ourselves. This is a lifestyle that is not marked by the characteristics of the second kind of freedom, by the striving, by the discontent, by the feuding and fighting that is characteristic of a person who is only serving themselves and trying to get ahead at the expense of everyone else. It is also absent the manipulation and the conniving and the backbiting and the lying of those who are only pursuing their own agenda, or who will stop at nothing, or run over anything and anyone in order to get their own way.
It is the second kind of freedom that is insisted upon by the rebel. It is a freedom, but it is not the freedom of Christ. Even if you add the name of Christ to it, this freedom is still a malicious freedom; it is not kind, it is not gentle, it is not loving, it does not bear under any adversity well. This sets this rebellious freedom apart from the truly Christian freedom that comes from the life of the Spirit. This kind of freedom is kind, it is peaceable, it is loving, it is patient, it does endure under pressure and distress.
This latter freedom comes only at a price, according to Paul. It is the price of crucifixion of the self and its selfish desires. Those who are Christ's have crucified the flesh with is passions and its desires. The second kind of freedom, the rebellious kind, must be left behind, totally and utterly forsaken, if the freedom of the Spirit is ever to manifest itself. Failure to do so leaves the soul in its turmoil, and it brings turmoil and struggle and striving to every situation that encounters. Only in the freedom of the Spirit is there peace.
Those of us who name the name of Christ often live in the rebellious kind of freedom thinking that since we are not under the law we are free to live as we please. But this is far from the truth. We have been released from the law, but we live in fulfillment of it, living in love, having crucified ourselves and our passions and desires in order to live for the glory of Christ. So much of the rebellious lifestyle is contrary to law; it is outlawed behavior, behavior which is illegal, or certainly that which is immoral. The freedom of the Spirit, however, is commendable behavior; we would not even dream of passing a law against it. Who would think of outlawing love as dangerous, or passing a law against gentleness, or making kindness and peace illegal? Thus it is in compliance with law; nay, it supersedes law, for it fulfills the requirements of the law by going above and beyond.
This is the true freedom of the Christian; and it is the link between freedom and the fruit of the Spirit. This is the freedom for which Christ has set us free. This is a freedom which keeps the desires in check; it is a restrained freedom, a freedom from destructive behavior. May God give us grace to live in this kind of freedom until the end of our days here on this earth.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Hearing, Listening and Idolatry
I have just begun reading another book entitled You Become What You Worship, by G. K. Beale. Beale's thesis is that you become what you worship, or in other words that you become like the idols to which you devote your worship -- assuming, of course, that you are not worshiping the true God. Beale argues that if you are worshiping an idol, you will become like them: you will be hardhearted; you will have eyes, but not be able to see; you will have ears, but will not be able to hear; you will be hardheaded and foolish as well.
In his opening remarks, Beale speaks of the call of God to Isaiah as recorded in Isaiah 6. Isaiah is told to make the ears of the people dull, and their eyes dim, and their hearts hard; lest they hear with their ears and see with their eyes, and understand with their hearts, and return to the Lord and be healed. Beale assesses that the reason for the pronouncement of judgment of God upon the people was their many years of idolatry, their refusal to worship the Lord God alone, their perpetual turning to the gods of the other nations, and their worship of wealth, influence and power.
I may be adding a bit to Beale in this assessment, as I have only complete a chapter or so of his work. But I can see the direction in which he is going. Beale argues, I think, that the idol comes first, then the progressing conformation into its image. I have to wonder if it might be the other way around. Could it be that the idol is the projection of our own hearts? Could it be that the reason why our hearts are hard, our ears dull, our eyes closed, our head empty is because our idol is actually ourselves? After all, what meaning and what conception do we pour into our idol? Is it not the conception of the Ultimate that exists already in our own minds?
The average person does not hear very well. We do not listen. We hear, but we do not understand. We do not even try to understand; rather we judge. We have our rebuttal on our tongue long before the other person is finished. And we wait, anxiously, for our turn to come, so that we can spout off with the "wise-crack" of sardonic depreciation. We generally cannot see any farther than the end of our nose. We are great at looking down the nose, but we don't open our eyes and look up very often. Our brain is so often closed -- especially those who are would argue that they are open-minded; these are some of the most close-minded of all. Generally this means that they have closed their eyes to the truth, and they have their eyelids screwed shut.
Christians are no better than others. It is the result of our limited view, our short-sighted vision, our relative deafness to that which we cannot understand. Beale assesses it quite well as idolatry, the worship of ourselves, the worship of what we have formed and shaped with our own hands.
The Scripture scoffs at our humanity. We cut down the tree, we chop it up into pieces. With one piece we make a fire to stay warm. With another we build our houses. With the third piece we form out a god, overlay it with gold, place in its hand precious jewels; and then we bow down to it in worship, and say, "I thank you, O my father, that you made me as outstanding and wise as I am!"
This perhaps characterizes the rebellious better than anything else in the book. Hardhearted, just like the tree trunk itself. Or worse yet, rotten to the core, totally empty and entire devoid of life inside. Foolish, and yet ever so wise; seeing the "truth," and yet not perceiving reality. Listening to all the wrong voices, and filling their empty-headed minds with the vain philosophies of other warped humans.
The saddest thing is that so often this is a description of even myself. Wise in my own vain conceits. At least by the grace of God I can see it. At least by the grace of God I sense the deafness deep in my soul. Speak to me, Voice of God. Open my ears let me hear. Show me, Lord God, the beautiful things in Your word. Soften my heart, Lord God; break up the hard, fallow ground. And help me to feel, and teach me to love. And, please, make my heart just a bit less rebellious.
In his opening remarks, Beale speaks of the call of God to Isaiah as recorded in Isaiah 6. Isaiah is told to make the ears of the people dull, and their eyes dim, and their hearts hard; lest they hear with their ears and see with their eyes, and understand with their hearts, and return to the Lord and be healed. Beale assesses that the reason for the pronouncement of judgment of God upon the people was their many years of idolatry, their refusal to worship the Lord God alone, their perpetual turning to the gods of the other nations, and their worship of wealth, influence and power.
I may be adding a bit to Beale in this assessment, as I have only complete a chapter or so of his work. But I can see the direction in which he is going. Beale argues, I think, that the idol comes first, then the progressing conformation into its image. I have to wonder if it might be the other way around. Could it be that the idol is the projection of our own hearts? Could it be that the reason why our hearts are hard, our ears dull, our eyes closed, our head empty is because our idol is actually ourselves? After all, what meaning and what conception do we pour into our idol? Is it not the conception of the Ultimate that exists already in our own minds?
The average person does not hear very well. We do not listen. We hear, but we do not understand. We do not even try to understand; rather we judge. We have our rebuttal on our tongue long before the other person is finished. And we wait, anxiously, for our turn to come, so that we can spout off with the "wise-crack" of sardonic depreciation. We generally cannot see any farther than the end of our nose. We are great at looking down the nose, but we don't open our eyes and look up very often. Our brain is so often closed -- especially those who are would argue that they are open-minded; these are some of the most close-minded of all. Generally this means that they have closed their eyes to the truth, and they have their eyelids screwed shut.
Christians are no better than others. It is the result of our limited view, our short-sighted vision, our relative deafness to that which we cannot understand. Beale assesses it quite well as idolatry, the worship of ourselves, the worship of what we have formed and shaped with our own hands.
The Scripture scoffs at our humanity. We cut down the tree, we chop it up into pieces. With one piece we make a fire to stay warm. With another we build our houses. With the third piece we form out a god, overlay it with gold, place in its hand precious jewels; and then we bow down to it in worship, and say, "I thank you, O my father, that you made me as outstanding and wise as I am!"
This perhaps characterizes the rebellious better than anything else in the book. Hardhearted, just like the tree trunk itself. Or worse yet, rotten to the core, totally empty and entire devoid of life inside. Foolish, and yet ever so wise; seeing the "truth," and yet not perceiving reality. Listening to all the wrong voices, and filling their empty-headed minds with the vain philosophies of other warped humans.
The saddest thing is that so often this is a description of even myself. Wise in my own vain conceits. At least by the grace of God I can see it. At least by the grace of God I sense the deafness deep in my soul. Speak to me, Voice of God. Open my ears let me hear. Show me, Lord God, the beautiful things in Your word. Soften my heart, Lord God; break up the hard, fallow ground. And help me to feel, and teach me to love. And, please, make my heart just a bit less rebellious.
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