Exodus 4: A Meeting on the Mountain

“Now therefore go, and I will be with your mouth and teach you what you will say.” Exodus 4:12

I love this story because it is a genuine picture of our humanity and God’s sovereignty. God meets Moses in the desert of Horeb and explains that He intends to bring the Israelites out of slavery; and he has chosen Moses to lead this venture. As Moses vehemently protests, you can’t help but feel sorry for the poor guy. He would have been quite content feeding sheep for the rest of his life.

Yet God reigns over Moses’s protests. Moses argues that he’s ill-equipped and lacks eloquence. Though I am kind of on Moses’s side here, I have got to admit that I am a fan of God’s answer: “Who has made man’s mouth?” That basically silences Moses’s side of the debate. Then, in exasperation, God promises that He will give Moses the words to say.

Throughout this whole discussion Moses remains completely honest with God. Rather than saying “I cannot do this” perhaps Moses should have said “God, I know what you want of me, but I cannot do this alone.” To me, the beauty of the story is that he does not say this – and thus, we see it is true that Moses is not eloquent and super-spiritual. He is just a normal guy that does not want to trade a docile flock of sheep for a herd of unruly Jews.

The truth is, we are all useless without God. However, protesting against His plan for us is not the way to express humility. Moses’s protest is merely a lack of faith. True humility is recognizing that “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” (Philippians 4:13)

That said, there will always be days when I would rather be tending sheep.

What the Puritans Got Wrong

Genesis 46:3, Exodus 1

“So he said, “I am God, the God of your father; do not fear to go down to Egypt, for I will make of you a great nation there. I will go down with you to Egypt and I will also surely bring you up again; and Joseph will surely put his hand on your eyes.” – Genesis 46:3

I have never had God come down and speak to me directly. Some people have had those surreal experiences, but God has always made His will clear to me in more concrete ways. For example, one Monday morning four years ago, after returning from a weekend of job interviews, I prayed a very specific prayer. I prayed, “God, please let a principal call me today. Give me some hope that I’ll get a job.” Sure enough, at 3:49 pm I got a call from a Social Studies department chair in Northern Virginia. Ok, it was not technically the principal, but I had hope. It seemed like God was moving…

In Genesis, God tells Jacob to get up and go to Egypt. With God’s blessing Jacob and his caravan set out for this unknown land. God assures Jacob that going to Egypt is part of His will. He does not tell Jacob that his descendants will end up enslaved under oppressive pharaohs. He also does not tell Jacob about the harrowing and glorious exodus that awaits the Nation of Israel.

Jacob is merely a piece of the story.

Could following God’s will mean we are getting ourselves into something uncomfortable and downright messy?

Yep.

We often expect that following God will ensure physical and material blessing. Our American forefathers, the Puritans, said that if you work hard and serve God he will bless your life. Conversely, those without such blessings were deemed unspiritual and judged for their state of misfortune. In fact, this “Protestant ethic” became so entrenched that made its way into our AP US History curriculum. Every September I teach that unit. Every September I can't help but think that I would have made a great Puritan.

I must ask myself: Am I guilty of judging people for making “poor life decisions?” If things aren’t going well for someone do I assume it’s because they just “suck at life?”

Sometimes God makes our paths very clear. Sometimes God’s direction makes sense. However, we may be called to do impractical things for the Gospel. Sometimes the path is difficult and hard to see. We might end up enslaved, imprisoned, or impoverished. Perhaps God’s plan is larger than our solitary lives. Perhaps those hardships are pieces of the story. We do not see the whole picture.

I wonder, would Jacob have gone to Egypt if he had known what was in store?

Restoration - Joseph Part II

…The real point of the story is this:

“Now therefore, do not be afraid. I will provide for you and your little ones.” – Joseph, Genesis 50:21

The real point of the story is restoration.

Genesis 45 is a beautiful chapter. Here, Joseph reveals himself to his brothers. He assures them that he holds nothing against them; God’s will has triumphed over their sin. He inquires about his father and commands his brothers to restore the family by bringing Jacob to Egypt.

The rest of the book is full of hope. It is such a welcome respite from the Genesis tragedy. I love the part where Joseph meets his father at Goshen and weeps in his arms “a good while.” [Gen 46:29] Finally, the family is together again. They are not a perfect family, but they have come a long way. If you pay attention to Jacob’s speech and demeanor throughout the remainder of the book you can sense that he has deepened his relationship with God – or at least his understanding of the important legacy his family carries.

Soon Joseph is busy implementing communism (Don’t believe me? Read Genesis 47:13-26) and things seem to be going well. In time Jacob dies, but not before his epic blessing on the twelve tribes of Israel. Then, at the very end of the book we begin to see that latent insecurities have plagued the brothers for years. They still question Joseph’s forgiveness, but Joseph won’t stand for that kind of thinking; in fact he is moved to tears once again: “Joseph said to them, ‘Do not be afraid, for am I in the place of God? But as for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, in order to bring it about as it is this day, to save many people alive. Now therefore do not be afraid, I will provide for you and your little ones.’ And he comforted them and spoke kindly to them.” [Genesis 50:20-21]

Joseph’s speech is full of grace, yet it does not gloss over wrongdoing. I am sure that the brothers walked away from that conversation feeling a mixture of regret and relief. Joseph’s forgiveness was genuine; they did not deserve such grace.

Forgiveness, grace, justice – this is all part of the restoration at the end of Genesis. Joseph not only preserves the nation of Israel and thus the line of Christ, but his example provides a glimpse of the Shalom that will come.

A Leader for Egypt: Joseph - Part 1

Joseph provides a welcome respite from the tragedy of Genesis. The book ends on a high note; a family reunites, forgiveness abounds, and a Holy God leads in a pagan land through the hands and feet of young Joseph.

My favorite piece of the whole story actually occurs when Joseph is in prison. He proves himself to the guards and they put him in charge of the place. The account reads: “The keeper of the prison did not look into thing that was under Joseph’s authority, because the Lord was with him; and whatever he did, the Lord made it prosper.”

That verse is highlighted in blue on page 73 of my Bible. I’m not sure when I highlighted it the first time, but it definitely stood out as I came across it the other night. That passage resonated with me once again. This year I have been feeling very blessed in my work. Yet this blessing has come with tremendous pressure and stress. I wonder if Joseph felt overwhelmed by his responsibility. I wonder if he laid awake thinking to himself “I’m way too young for this, what are they doing putting a twenty-something in charge of a prison full of criminals?” When Joseph turned thirty (the same age that Jesus was upon beginning his ministry) he became the second in command over all of Egypt. His job was to keep the nation from starving. I’m sure this required him to sort through a myriad of logistical and bureaucratic hurdles. Having no formal training in management, Joseph must have encountered his share of sleepless nights. (Ok, maybe I’m starting to read my own insomnia into this story)

Joseph was young and inexperienced, yet he served the Lord with a purer, steadier heart than his father and grandfathers. He stood his ground when tempted; he never went chasing after false gods, he worked hard, and as far as I can tell he remained faithful to one wife.

In short, Joseph’s story is inspiring. I don’t have the livelihood of Egyptians on my shoulders (definitely wouldn’t want that job right about now), but I do have nearly two hundred young minds and fragile souls to teach and coach and hopefully motivate. Some days when I think about it that way it’s kind of scary; but then I remember Genesis 39:23 – it’s the Lord that makes our work prosper.

…and that is only half of what I have to say about Joseph…the real point of the story is still to come. Stay tuned.

Genesis 29 & 30: Thoughts on Patriarchy

One day in the Garden Adam awoke to find Eve. He probably thought she was perfect (let’s hope so, because she’s the only woman that ever was). Eve was created as a companion for Adam because there was not a “helper comparable to him” (Gen 2:20). I like the NKJV phrasing because it depicts gender roles so carefully. It alludes to a balance between submission and partnership. Unfortunately there are few marriages in the Bible that stand out as good examples to follow.

Reading through Genesis quickly discourages me. The deeper in you get, the more you see sin creep into every human relationship. By the time you get to Jacob women have become a commodity. Chapter 29 talks of Jacob “loving” Rachel, but I often wonder what this means. Throughout the story you see little real interaction between the couple. Rachel is often manipulating various situations and competing with her sister for the attention of their shared husband. Then both ladies offer up their maids as the childbearing contest intensifies. I wonder if Jacob valued Rachel for anything other than her beautiful “form and appearance” (Gen 29:17b). I wonder if he valued Leah for anything more than the kids she could produce.

Where did that role of “helper” break down? I do not blame Jacob entirely (although he comes from a long line of weak men). The women were manipulative and unsupportive, merely seeking ways to sabotage each other and win the approval of the patriarch. At the same time however, you can’t help but sympathize with them. After all, how would it feel to sit back in the ladies’ tent while your sister sleeps with your man?

In the West the pendulum has swung to the other direction. While I hate patriarchal systems I am not a feminist - at least not in the Betty Friedan sense. I believe that the feminists of the latter twentieth century shot themselves in the foot. Rather than attributing value to women's roles, the feminists claimed that a woman’s natural strengths were of little value and they must dress, act, and think like men. Climbing up the career ladder became the only way to achieve worth. Families should take second place. Today, families are more like an expensive hobby to prove that you can, in fact, do it all.

I know that striking the balance and finding that God-ordained partnership is exceedingly difficult. It is impossible without grace. While women are not meant to lead the family, they must be the “comparable helper” which does involve submission. However, their intellect and unique abilities should be highly valued and made essential to the functioning of the household. Their role is to support, encourage, and share the burdens of life - whether that means cleaning the house or bringing home a paycheck. You see little of this in the women of Genesis. Christ’s lineage is filled with dysfunctional families. It is full of humans crying out for love and value and not finding it in one another. This is why we need a Savior.

Easter: Forget the Bunny, Remember the Snake.

It has been awhile since I've read through the Bible. I did it in college, but that was for homework and the only surefire way to secure an A in various Bible courses. With that in mind I've undertaken a new initiative - to read and blog my way through the Bible. I have no intention to get this done in a year and quite honestly I'll probably be more diligent in the summer and during school breaks. Most importantly I'm not doing this to get an A, to win heaven-points, or even to get internet followers. I just want to chronicle where God has led me, and if there are others in cyberspace who care to read about it, then I'm happy to share.
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My high school English teacher once said that the Christian God started out as a God of wrath, but His plans failed and He had to change his strategy. That has always stuck with me. I knew at the time that I was supposed to disagree, but a small part of me wondered if he was right. While the Old Testament justifies holy war and bloodshed, the God of the New Testament does seem like a much nicer deity.

I've since come a long way in reconciling this God of the Old Testament with the God of the New Testament, but I'll admit that I'm not wholly there. Thus, whenever I read the Old Testament literature I'm always looking for pictures of Christ and the message of the Cross. I have found that grace is on every page.

The good news is, you don't have to get in very far to find Jesus. The first direct reference to the Savior shows up in Genesis 3:15:
"And I will put enmity between you and the woman,
And between your seed and her Seed;
He shall bruise your head,
And you shall bruise His heel."

I love good foreshadowing. (This too is probably thanks to my high school English teacher) I love that right after God issues the curse He delivers the Promise. We live under the curse every day, sometimes we do not even realize it is there. We get so caught up in the busyness of our lives that it takes a holiday like Easter to remind us that Christ came to Earth, that He suffered the "bruising" of the snake, and arose in triumph.

I'm not sure if the "head crushing" refers to Christ's resurrection or Christ's Second Coming. It could be both, since God's understanding of time is different from our own. Either way, here we have the God of Wrath, juxtaposed against the God of Grace. He condemns Satan, while paving the way for a new Eden, a new Heaven and Earth once the snake is completely destroyed.

Easter is not cute and fluffy - but I suppose having a vanquished "Easter Snake" rather than an Easter Bunny would make a rather disturbing holiday mascot.

The Long Road to Auschwitz

*It's taken awhile to get back completing my post travel blog. Life started again, but I'm slowly progressing in converting my travel journal over to blog form:
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During my second day in Berlin I couldn’t help but look forward to the long leisurely train ride to Poland. I looked forward a cool train car where I could reflect on my journey and specifically my pilgrimage to Auschwitz. The train ride to Poland ended up being the most unbearable hours of my trip. The air conditioning in the train was not working and I was traveling in the midst of a summer heat wave. Not to mention, the train was packed. An hour into the ride my clothing was drenched, sweat was pouring down my face, tiny openings at the top of the windows offered scant relief from the stifling, stale air. To make matters worse the train car was inundated with European teenagers traveling to the capital of cheap revelry – Krakow. On the way to Krakow I tried valiantly to reflect on why I was going; but it was hot. It was nearly impossible to breathe. The stench was overwhelming. Positively overwhelming.

And yet I knew the dark irony of the situation. In those moments my mind kept drifting to the haunting train car scene in Night, and those visions of the prisoners starving, ready to kill for just a piece of bread. Even in the midst of my unreflective, discontented state on the train, I knew some twisted, unrelenting force was driving me closer and closer to Auschwitz.

The bus ride to Auschwitz was only marginally better than the train ride. It was cooler, but full of hung-over college kids. It was a despicable scenario, these backpackers galavanting through Eastern Europe drinking cheap beer and merely hopping on a bus to Auschwitz to kill time between one night of debauchery to the next.

Fortunately, I had Matisyahu on my iPod. The Hasidic Jewish reggae artist sung to me about redemption and the Promised Land. I forgot about the people on the bus and began to remember late nights in my little bedroom in Western, New York, surrounded by books from the A. University library. I remembered lying on my floor, taking notes, crafting my first research paper. I remembered reading Night for English class, confronted with the realities of human depravity. It was then as a sophomore in high school that I knew I would have to make a journey to Auschwitz. I don’t know why. Every sophomore at A-A completes a Holocaust project - but why do I seem to be the only one affected enough to journey across Europe alone on a sketchy Polish train to see this place of such despicable horror?

I remember coming into Auschwitz that day. The woods cleared and first I saw the barbed wire. Behind it the buildings. They looked familiar, that familiarity of something you’ve only seen in pictures. I was hard to believe, even after the hours spent in college libraries, and the long nights of paper-writing.

I remember the hair. The pile of human hair covered an area as big as my classroom. I remember the basement of Auschwitz Block II where countless prisoners were tortured and killed for leading uprisings, for standing up in faith, for maintaining a belief that injustice can be overcome. I remember the train tracks and the gate at Aushchwitz II-Birkenau. It was bright, sunny day and quite crowded with tourists. Despite all that, all I could think about was Elie Wiesel stepping off that train. The smell of burning flesh, the babies cast into the fire. The first time I read it I had to close the book. I remember opening it, reading it again. Closing it. Giving up for the night. And I thought about the pseudo-historians who denied that it ever happened.

But what I remember most about that day at Auschwitz was the countryside. The Polish countryside bears the marks of poor rural living, something that was the norm for me until I moved away at 18. On the two hour drive from Krakow to Auschwitz I felt keenly like I was at home. There was nothing foreign about the simple homes and farms, the haggard people, the old cars. It was not quaint like the French countryside, nor picturesque like the Swiss countryside. It bore the marks of everything I’d grown up knowing.

And there in Poland, on the outskirts of Auschwitz, this sick, dark thought started to creep into my mind and heart. I realized that the Polish inhabitants had been living in these towns for years, much as my own ancestors had been farming in the same town since immigrating to America. I realized that throughout the years of Nazi oppression those same families were there, occupying those little homes and farms and watching idly from their fields as train upon train passed by. Full trains. Full trains that returned empty.

And I saw it happening in Western New York. The Polish were just ordinary people. People just like my own neighbors. We would not have behaved any differently. I like to think I would have, but how? How can ordinary farmers lead an uprising against the Nazis? And against what exactly? The whole complex was kept in an air of mystery. Inhabitants were moved out of the immediate surroundings. As we crept closer to Auschwitz the towns gave way to dark, haunting forests. I believe my own neighbors, my peers, and dare I say my teachers and church leaders would have sat idly by. Had this happened in Western New York, we would have merely prayed in the comfort of our pews and quietly debated in the safety of our classrooms. We would have caved to the demands of the oppressors, afraid to stand out, to make the first move. We would have justified our safe and practical decisions.

The world has far too few revolutionaries. I'm inclined to believe the revolutionaries are the eccentrics. They are the ones who chafe at mainstream society and its inane residents. They are the people who question the norm and offer radical solutions to problems we have accepted. These are the ones whom we will call on to fight injustice and oppression when it arrives upon our doorstep.

The pilgrimage to Auschwitz helped me to think about the whole scope of the war and its effect on ordinary lives. The Polish learned to endure situations that would have been seemingly unthinkable years before. And what if you had told a promising Jewish student or established shop-keeper that he would be torn from his family, that he would die in a pool of his own diarrhea with other prisoners’ excrement dripping from the bunks above? As I wandered through the barracks at Birkenau I tried to picture these men and women who were respected citizens perhaps only a year or two before their death, now treated worse than animals, even behaving as animals.

There is not much more I can say about Auschwitz. Was it cathartic? No. It was a bit like going to the cemetery seeking comfort and cleansing but finding that you're are no closer to that person you’ve lost. You leave feeling just as empty as when you came. I guess I thought that maybe going to Auschwitz would make it easier for me to understand. But what exactly am I trying to understand? Perhaps I want to understand why God ordained a world where sin reduces us to such horrific creatures. How ordinary husbands and fathers can kill for a living. I cannot understand a world in which the beauty of the image of God is marred by cruelty and irrational hatred. God's own people are chased down and tormented and forced to suffer the unthinkable under a human system of oppression. What is the purpose? Where is the redemption? I do not even know for sure why I went, I just know that I needed to go.
I finished this entry in my journal with the question: “Do I really want to understand?”


I believe now, upon more reflection, that I do want to understand. I believe that the quest for understanding drove me there in the first place. Perhaps that quest for knowledge and understanding is somehow deeply intertwined in the purpose God has ordained for my existence. Perhaps that is what drives me on a solitary pilgrimage when other twenty-somethings are caught up in entertainment. In the end it is not evil that I understand, nor do I truly grasp the reason or Providential purpose of it all. I do understand human apathy. The pilgrimage to Auschwitz taught me that I cannot judge the onlookers. I would have been there among them. Perhaps I am one of them even now.