The Priestly Duties - Sick!

I am now trudging through Leviticus and Numbers. I wish I could say I'm excited about it, but I'm not really. Last time I read through the Bible in a year, I actually did get kind of excited about the latter half of the Torah. It was actually at that point when I thought about how I would want to write or journal about my journey through the Bible the next time I read through it. At that time, I was apparently experiencing divine insight into these books of law... but not this time. These are the only three things I continually think about as I read about the decapitation of birds (Lev. 1:15) and the fatty entrails of herd animals (Lev. 3:3) over and over again...

1) Sick. The sacrificial rituals are disgusting. When I think about all the blood being thrown on the altar every day, and Aaron and his sons having to rip up animals, and having ram blood smeared on their ears, I am slightly revolted. Even the thought of throwing oil all over everything in the tabernacle to consecrate it seems sticky and oily and relatively gross to me. It's wierd to think that it was such an honor to be a Levite and be of the priestly family...but that basically meant you killed animals for a living...day in and day out. Not my dream job. That's for sure.

2) Praise God for sending Jesus to be our sacrifice! It's humbling to think that Jesus became the bloody, disfigured sacrificial lamb that disgusts me so much. I don't even like thinking about the sacrificial system of the old covenant. He EXPERIENCED the system for me! He became the sacrifice. What a faithful, loving Savior I have. He is not only the great high priest interceding on my behalf, but he is also the priest's sacrifice.

3) This is probably the only bit of new insight I have had this time around... how merciful and loving is our God to even be willing to accept animal sacrifices from the Israelites? I mean, God is so holy and powerful and worthy, and yet for a set amount of time, He was willing to accept mere animals to atone for man's sin. He didn't have to do that! We know that the tabernacle is "a copy and shadow of the heavenly things" (Hebrews 8:5) and that the sacrfices were a foreshadowing of Christ, our sacrifical lamb, but how merciful of God to allow them to be acceptable for a time and to be willing to meet with his people in a tent. He is the King of Heaven and He was lovingly willing to dwell in a tent to be near his rebellious, sinful people, because they were His beloved. So, even though the sacrficial system seems gross and tedious with all its regulations in my earthly eyes, I am realizing that God's kindness is so extravagent in permitting such a temporary, insignificant system to intercede for sinful man.

God Knows

The past two years have been a crazy, confusing, encouraging time of refinement for me. Since moving back to Washington in the fall of 2007 God has had His hand in my life like never before - convicting me of sin, enlarging my heart to love, building up new community for me. At times, I felt completely hopeless - living in my parent's basement, substitute teaching, giving up a full ride to grad school, lacking fellowship with other females, watiting on God's timing in my relationship with Micah... nothing seemed to be making sense. At other times though, I completely trusted God's sovereignty over my life - as I saw his love transforming me. Looking back over the past two years - I know that God used my circumstances - which often seemed miserable at the time - to make me fall more in love with Jesus and to make me more like Jesus at the same time.

In my Bible study with my roommates, we just started reading Richard Foster's Celebration of Discipline and the first chapter is about meditation. I have been reading through Exodus for the past week now, and I was struck by a verse that I have been trying to meditate on. Exodus begins with Moses' birth and some background on the Israelites' situation in Egypt. Since the death of Joseph at the end of Genesis, the Israelites have been in Egypt for about 400 years and have become long-standing slaves of Pharaoh. Their legacy in Egypt now includes centuries of oppression, and it probably feels as if there is no escape. Meanwhile, Moses is born, and his life is perserved by the hand of God, even though Pharaoh is killing all the male infants of the Israelite people. He grows up living among the Egyptians, but one day kills an Egyptian for attacking one of the Israelite slaves, and then must flee from Egypt, fearing for his life. In the next chapter (3), about forty years have passed since Moses fled from Egypt, and he is called to be God's servant at the Burning Bush, with instructions to go back to Egypt and lead his people away from their life of slavery and into God's Promised Land. However, there is this strange little interlude in Scripture between Moses fleeing Egypt in chapter 2, and being called to return to Egypt in chapter 3 (presumably about forty years later), and it's this strange part of the text that really stood out to me this week.  In Exodus 2:23-25  it says: "During those many days the king of Egypt died, and the people of Israel groaned because of their slavery and cried out for help. Their cry for rescue from slavery came up to God. And God heard their groaning, and God remembered his covenant with Abraham, with Issac, and with Jacob. God saw the people of Israel, -- and God knew."

I have been meditating on the final part of that verse this week... "and God knew." How many times have I felt like the Israelites? God, I need rescue. God, I feel trapped. God, I am calling out to You. God, I know we are called to suffer with Christ, but is there any escape, Lord? The Israelites had been suffering for 400 years. Even after Moses was born, setting God's plan for rescue in action, he didn't actually come to free the Israelites until he was 80 years old. But the truth of the matter is - God knew. He remembered his covenant with his people, and he was waiting for the perfect time to display his power to them. He was waiting for the perfect time to write his story of freedom and redemption. He was waiting for the perfect time to write the perfect Old Testemant analogy of the freedom from the slavery of sin, we find in Christ, and the hope of one day resting in the Promised Land with our Savior. Even when the Israelites were making bricks and crying out to God and it seemed like nothing was happening - God knew. He knows and loves his children. He is never absent. During those times when I feel like I am just waiting to see God's hand and struggling to have faith, I have to trust that God knows. It might not be His time to act, but he knows me, he loves me, he is never absent in my struggles. My God knows. And I can take comfort in that.

Christian "Advice" - From Bad to Worse

I am wrapping up my reading of Job, and I have to admit I get frustrated and irritated reading it. I know you are probably thinking, "You shouldn't feel irritated reading God's Word," but the truth is, I have felt that way over the past few days. The reason...listening the horrible, incorrect advice from Job's friends during his time of suffering. Job is at the worst point of suffering in his life, and his three (and eventually a fourth) friends journey to comfort him. That means the first few chapters of Job are good to read - in that you see how and why Job is tested with suffering, you see his obedient, submissive response of worship to God, and then you see friends who love him travel from afar to show compassion for their friend. Good, good, good. Then things get ugly. These three friends have no idea how to comfort their friend, and they speak for the next 30+ chapters about how they are wise and Job must be hiding sins that he is now being punished for, as they see his suffering as "a wicked man's portion from God" (Job 20:29). I understand that part of the book is to see how these friends (and Job in his response to them) are wrong, and how God is ultimately just, right, and sovereign, which is seen in God's response at the end of the book, but it's so hard to read the Christian "advice" of these four men for chapter after chapter.

However, in my irritation, I was struck with the thought that Christians often give poor advice to their brothers and sisters. I have a dear friend who is currently struggling through cancer treatment, and she said one of the hardest things to deal with is unhelpful advice/encouragement from Christian friends. She said there are two camps: those people who pray and believe that God WILL heal her absolutely, and go about with an almost too cheerful attitude about the disease that has struck her, and others who mourn the disease as if there is no hope, that to be struck with such a thing is unjust, and who cannot believe she is not just falling apart at the thought of facing cancer. Her Godly response to the first camp: God might not heal her; He is not called to, and it doesn't change anything about His love and care for her or the fact that she is in Christ, so she already knows she will have victory in the end. But, get real, cancer sucks. She is sick and suffering and it's incredibly hard, probably physically more than anything else. To the second camp: Her hope is in God. Cancer does not change anything about her identity in Christ, and she is not going to waste away her life mourning a disease and feeling hopeless. She is going to worship God and live life for His glory, even when her suffering is at its worst.

This leads me to question: as a Christian, how do I comfort and encourage a friend who is suffering. I think the answer is - with humility. I think it's so easy for Christians to speak words of advice that they think are right, when they don't really know or understand God's plan in the suffering. I'm sure I am probably guilty of giving presumptuous advice. This is God's rebuke of both Job and his foolish friends - "Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?" - meaning why do we pretend to know God's purpose in suffering. We know He is merciful, just, sovereign, loving, and knowing His character and his promises sometimes just needs to be enough for us. As Christians, we are called to "rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep" (Romans 12:15). Clearly, we are called to suffer with those who suffer through compassionate, empathetic love. But sometimes I think that love means NOT giving advice. I am going to try to approach the way I comfort others with more humility, with a willingness to admit "I don't know what the answer is or why God is doing this; I just trust that He loves you and He is sovereign even this suffering. I only know this suffering is horrible, and I can't even understand the full extent of it. Let me weep and suffer with you because that's the only thing I know to do in my finite knowledge of the Lord."

Suffering

I finished up Genesis a couple of weeks ago and moved onto Job. I am reading through my ESV Study Bible, but I am using the reading plan from the Chronological Bible, which attempts to arrange the books in the order in which they are thought to have been written. Therefore, I moved from the silent sufferings of Joseph, who was betrayed by his brothers and sold as a slave to a foreign land, to Job, who is attacked by Satan and has his property, family and health taken away from almost instantly. What do these two men have in common? They praise and obey God despite their circumstances. Joseph suffers through life as a slave and, later, as a prisoner for a wrong he didn't commit, before he is finally elevated to governor over all the land because of God's grace toward him. Yet, even in his horrible, isolated situation that lasts for many, many years, he remains faithful to God. It's only when he looks back on his situation, when he has sons of his own, that he verbalizes that his past has been full of "hardship," but he still praises God for delivering him from all the ways he has been mistreated over the years.

Likewise, Job suffers much and is still able to praise God. When Satan come before God, wanting to test Job's faithfulness, he is then granted the authority to essentially "ruin" Job's life by killing off his children, destroying his property, and by strking him with disease. And what does he do in the very next few verses? H praises God! He learns that all his children have died, and he "fell on the ground and worshiped" (Job1:20). Of course, he is mounring. He tears his robe, shaves his head, and is deeply grieved. But he praises God. How convicting for me. I often find myself in a bad mood, feeling selfish and miserable, at the slightest inconvenience to myself. My schedule doesn't go as planned, my students are irritating me, wedding planning is overwhelming... I often find myself sinning in these situtations - arguing, lashing back, feeling sorry for myself, filled with anxiety. I don't naturally turn to God and praise him. And look at the gifts he has given me: a busy schedule full of friends, ministry, and activities; a stable job and students I get to work with every day; an upcoming marriage and the fun of a wedding! How I want to be more like Job, who in all his trials, "did not sin or charge God with wrong" (Job 1:22), but instead worshiped his Creator and Redeemer.

The Patriarchs - Faith and Folly

I just finished reading through Genesis and I want to take a moment to reflect on the lives of the Patriarchs and what I learned when reading through the lives of Noah, Abraham, Issac, Jacob, and Joseph.

First, as recognized by the writer of Hebrews, the faith of these men is amazing and inspiring. From Noah, who was willing to build an ark and, in doing so, become the laughing stock of his community, to Abraham who left his relatives to set out for an unknown land that God had promised him, to Jacob and Joseph, who despite decades of troubles always drew near to the Lord, the faith of these men convicts me to live a life of faith, despite the inconvenience of the calling or the trials of my temporary circumstances.

However, the faith of these men is far from perfect. Abraham obeyed his wife's wish that he sleep with her servant, because they didn't trust that God really would provide a son in their old age. Jacob spent most of his life with almost a half-faith of sorts. He was deceitful when he stole his brother's blessing, and went to the home of Ladan, still only half-way trusting the Lord. For example, when Jacob is fleeing his brother's wrath, he has his well known dream of a ladder or stairway to heaven. When he wakes up, he knows he has encountered God's presence, but he only builds a pillar instead of an altar in response (Genesis 28). It is not until his life-altering wrestling match with God at Peniel about twenty years later that he gives his heart fully to the Lord(Genesis 32). What an awesome reminder that God really does use "faith like a grain of a mustard seed" (Luke 17:6). The Lord, by His Spirit, gives and increases faith. It's nothing we can do on our own. If faith were created and sustained within ourselves and by ourselves, I'm pretty sure the men of Genesis would not have left much of a legacy.

Also, it's important to remember that these men were not perfect; they were called righteous because of their faith, as small and weak as it was at times. Noah, the faithful boat-builder and father of all generations after Adam, spent his old age getting shamefully drunk, according to Genesis 9. Abraham, who planted the seed for the whole nation of Israel, slept with his wife's servant (which started the Arab-Israeli conflict that we see to this day) and denied his wife two times, giving her over to other men to save his own life. How important to remember that God is good; we are not. Even these men, who never lived to see "their commendation" in Hebrews 11, were not perfect. They lived by faith in the mercy and grace of God through Jesus Christ. Although they had not seen Christ, and had heard very little of him, except through hints of a kingdom established by God and prophecies of the defeat of sin, they were willing to live lives of faith, knowing that God had "prepared for them a city" after death (Hebrews 11:16), and that His promises would be fulfilled in coming generations.