New Thoughts (12/28/06-1/6/07)
I found it interesting to have Ninevah identified as being across the Tigris from what is now Mosul, Iraq. Until recently, such cities were little more than curious names we read in the Old Testament, but with no sense of place. They held no real meaning for us, because they had nothing to do with our experience. Now, we live in times when places such as Mosul are part of daily experience, as we hear news of things transpiring in Iraq. Yet, how easily we miss the connection with Biblical history. We vaguely understand that there is this connection with Babylon of old, but I think it fails to register as much more than a reminder of our high school days, learning of ancient or world history.
By and large, it seems the Church chooses to neglect the history of those civilizations that rose and fell. Yet, that history can and should inform our sense of the present and our expectations for the future. Should we not recognize that the turmoil we see in the world is but a reflection of the battle raging in the heavens? Oh, I know, the forces of humanism that were birthed of the Enlightenment will cringe to think of any connection with something greater than man, but the connection remains. It pleases man to think that his rationality has made him too mature to accept such nonsense. The reality is that his pride in his rationality and his belief that man truly is supreme have blinded him to the greater issues.
It is in this region that Daniel was given answer to his prayers on behalf of exiled Israel. It is on the banks of a tributary of this same river that Ezekiel was given visions. Consider, particularly, Gabriel’s explanation to Daniel. “From the first day that you set your heart on understanding, I have come. But the prince of Persia was withstanding me for twenty-one days before Michael came to help me” (Dan 10:12-13). Things were moving in the heavens that were directly related to and associated with what was happening, as we would say, on the ground. Perhaps a more realistic understanding of matters would be to say that what was happening on the ground was a reflection of what is happening in the heavens. We battle not with flesh and blood, but with powers and principalities (Eph 6:12).
We may see things playing out in the world of flesh and blood, but that is not the place to focus. What news from Iraq, from Iran, from Syria and like places? Well, that news is really little more than an echo, little more than a reflection of what is really going on. The prophets among us cannot help but take notice. The world may not grasp why it is we find this region so important. They may not grasp why they, themselves find it so important. The world does not really recognize the significance of the battle lines between Islam and Christianity. It chooses to brush these off as anachronism. It wants to write the whole matter of religion off as being no more than the last vestiges of ancient ignorance and superstition. The truth is that these two religions are the earthly manifestation of the great battle that has been ongoing through all existence since Satan was first cast down out of heaven. It is the same battle that has been going on since Cain and Abel were born. There have been lulls in the warfare, but the battle has been joined forever between those who will pursue God and those who willfully rebel against Him.
With that thought, I want to turn to Jonah: God’s man in that moment of history. He truly was a man of God, a prophet who spoke truly as he was given expression by the God of Truth. Yet, in the book that bears his name, we are reading about a rebel. We are reading about God’s man fleeing from God. Considering where he was being sent and where he was trying to go instead, it would have been hard for him to be any more completely opposed to his instructions. Ninevah lay overland, almost due east from Israel. Yet, here we find Jonah on the water, headed for Spain. He was going as far as the known world at that time would allow him to go in the wrong direction. The remainder of his story is the story of God providing course correction. First, of course, there is the correction of his travels, returning him to his mission. However, the end of that story shows another course correction being made. It is a correction in line with the corrections Jesus was trying to bring to the course of Pharisaism. “I desire compassion more than sacrifice.” That was God’s message to Jonah, who was more interested in revenge and strict, legal justice paid out upon the Ninevites. Well, thanks be to God that His children can know that He ever tempers His justice towards them with compassion.
That same justice that Jonah preferred for the Ninevites is the justice we so richly deserve. This is the thing the Christian must bear constantly in mind as he walks this fallen world. This is why we are called to leave vengeance in God’s hands. See, when we look on the sinner, when we look upon a particularly heinous criminal, our eyes only wish to see justice served. Oh, we see those crimes that one has committed, and we just know he is unforgivable. It’s impossible that any amount of repentance on his part could change our sense of what justice demands. But, we mustn’t lose sight of the fact that in God’s eyes, we are no less criminal, no less heinous in our crimes against His perfect rule. This was Jonah’s error, and it is often our own. When it comes to those who have sinned against us, how we will clamor to see God’s justice served. But, we have forgotten that the same justice we are crying out for in that one’s case is the justice we deserve. Were it not for the compassion of God, who has Himself provided the only possible means of our pardon, there would be no call for our own repentance, no chance of our own reconciliation. We would all find ourselves with no possible expectation than the full punishment of the Law.
Oh, praise God for His mercy! Let us learn to reflect that very mercy, even in the face of direst threat. That is what gave power to the martyrs. That is what still gives power to the message of the Gospel of the Christ. That is the power that will yet win the war that matters. That is the power that will reign victorious, however much the forces of darkness rave.
By His comments, Jesus makes it clear that Jonah’s trials point forward to what He would suffer through, and more importantly, to the fact of His resurrection. The three days and nights that Jonah spent buried, as it were, in the belly of the sea provide the clearest connection, but there are other matters as well. Both came to a people whose sins had risen to a level God would no longer tolerate. Both came to such a people with a simple message: repent or perish. Is this not the same message that comes throughout the pages of Scripture? I hear it in the call to choose this day. “I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing. Now you must choose” (Dt 30:19). “Choose today, whether you will serve the idols or the LORD. I have already chosen the LORD” (Jos 24:15). Here, and in Jonah’s case, the message has an increased urgency. There is no longer time to procrastinate. That urgency is not lacking in the words of Moses and Joshua, but it is more accented as time runs short. The Judge is preparing His verdict. If you would change the outcome that is all but certain at this point, you must act now. You must act swiftly, decisively, and in full earnest. Only a real and complete repentance is going to change His mind now.
This is what John was talking about. The kingdom is arriving. The King is returning to His lands, and He will surely establish His rule once more. Today, we would have some sort of internationally mediated council of reconciliation. In the day of our Lord’s return, there shall be no such mediation. The time for reconciling is before He has come in His power. He has provided the means of that reconciling. Indeed, His greatest desire is to see His people reconciled to Him. He has gone out of His way to make it possible, extended every conceivable aid to bring it about. That’s the whole point of Jonah’s journey, and he knew it. It was one more possibility for reconciliation being given to the people of Ninevah. They were being warned that their actions would not go unpunished. They were being served notice that the Judge had seen the evidence of their ways, and was coming swiftly to establish His justice.
The same message was being served to Jerusalem in the ministry of Jesus. Forget the Pax Romana, God was coming to establish His peace, a peace that nothing is going to disturb. The Roman army might come and punish those who troubled the Roman peace, but trouble would arise again. When God moves against those who trouble His peace, however, it is finished. His preferred method is assimilation. He would rather so act upon the rebel as to make him a son, but he will not suffer a rebellious son. Sons will be sons in deed, not solely in name. There are no honorary sons in the kingdom. You are either a true son of the true King, or you are not. Again, the call: “Choose you this day: son or rebel, life or death.”
Perhaps the saddest part of this whole scene is that, as Jesus points out, the people of Ninevah – a people who sat in great darkness, and knew not the God of Creation – nevertheless recognized God when His word came to them, and they responded in the only sensible way. They repented. They repented in earnest. They recognized the smell of death on the winds, and were determined to do the only thing they could which might avert death’s approach. Granted, they would relapse in time, but in that moment, in the lives of those who heard this message from Jonah, there was real change. By way of contrast, Jesus has come to the people of God, to those He has chosen as the bearers of His witness, and they are so full of themselves that they cannot even recognize their own danger. Ninevah was given forty days’ notice, and they took full advantage of that notice to change for the better. Israel was being given forty years’ notice, if we measure it to the destruction of Jerusalem, but they were too proud to acknowledge the warning. Is it any wonder that Jesus tells them that the Ninevites, in spite of their great evil, in spite of their godlessness, will be called as witnesses against God’s own people?
Of course, at this point it is only reasonable to consider these things as a warning to ourselves. If a people who had been charged with the keeping of God’s own house, who had been entrusted with His testimony for centuries, who had been personally led out of captivity by the God of all creation; if such as these could fail to recognize the King upon His return, what of us? If those who were blessed to have the opportunity of hearing the Son firsthand could nonetheless reject Him out of hand, what of us? This is a source of particular blessing to us, that we have believed in spite of the handicap of not having been there at the time. There is a particular blessing upon us, for we have not seen Him. Though we have not seen Him, we love Him. Though we do not see Him now, we believe in Him. Having never seen Him, yet we rejoice greatly with inexpressible joy. Yet, we are full of glory, and our faith has obtained its outcome: the salvation of our souls (1Pe 1:8-9). That is a great blessing, indeed. And yet, we are not out of danger. We, too, can easily slide into the comfortable religion of Pharisaic compromise. For, in spite of its array of rules, what the Pharisees presented was indeed a compromise. It looked holy. It impressed us with its rigid adherence. Yes, we were all duly impressed. But, God saw only compromise. They had lowered His standards until they could manage them.
We are just as capable of compromise. We see it all the time. It happens every time we try to present our own personal sins as somehow unimportant and acceptable. It happens every time we announce that it is ok, under whatever circumstances we may opt to qualify the action by, to act contrary to God’s unqualified commandments. Ouch! You know we do it! It’s not just those other denominations that have more publicly and obviously gone a-whoring after idols. It’s us! Yes, and as we recognize this, as we see how ready we are to compromise, we should be very concerned. For, having compromised, it becomes very easy to become so comfortably entrenched in that compromise that we are no longer willing or able to hear the correcting voice of God. Though we continue to claim allegiance to Him, we set ourselves up in the place of authority which He alone should occupy. Though we claim to serve Him, we insist that He serve us.
What shall we do when the call to repentance comes? By now, this is clearly not a rhetorical question. We have boundless evidence of what we do. How often do we hear the call to come before God and repent of our sins, but instead of simply obeying the intent, we check the list of specifics looking for a loophole? OK. I’m clean on that one. We’re like the rich young man who recognized that something was lacking in his righteousness and yet, when reminded of the commandments, remained convinced that he had obeyed in full. He couldn’t see himself in them. I haven’t murdered, so I’m clean on that count. I haven’t been sleeping with the neighbor’s wife, so I’m clean on that count. Never mind what Jesus suggested was lacking for that one. He wasn’t clean even on the counts he claimed. He is just like us, or should I say that we are just like him? For all our lofty condemnation of legalism, we are the worst of legal eagles, ever looking for the loophole through which we can avoid the command to face ourselves.
Ninevah repented. They repented in spades. They saw their destruction on the horizon, and they recognized that the strength of arms would do them no good against it. Israel did not, and the story of Jerusalem’s downfall is quite possible the darkest chapter in all her long history. It is darkest because it was self-inflicted. My question – particularly for me – is, what choice am I choosing? Which outcome am I setting my face toward?
It comes to this: We are warned that no man, no prophet, no apostle, no anybody is going to be able to tell us when King Jesus is returning. We have before us the example of a kingdom that rejected its King. We are now citizens of that kingdom awaiting the King’s return, but are we any more ready? If He chooses today for His return, are our hearts in good standing with Him? If He comes right this moment, am I prepared to face Him with joy, or do I have cause for concern? Cause for concern is cause for repentance, for only real and earnest repentance can prepare us for His arrival. That is the red carpet that we ought to be rolling out to greet Him as He comes. It is the one thing He asks of His people. Repent and turn away from the things that He has said not to do. Repent and turn back to the things He has commanded us to do. Stop playing games of justification and look to Him who is Justification. If you would be called a child of the kingdom, then act like one. If you would bear the honor of being a son of God, then it’s time to honor your Father with obedience to His training.
Of course, we cannot think of Jonah without thinking of the whale, or big fish, that was his temporary tomb. Some have gotten caught up in debate over which it was, but I think that is no more than a distraction. The importance of the record of Jonah’s falling and rising is not the means by which God provided for his restoration, but the fact of that restoration. Our tendency is to look at the story and think how horrible it was that he was swallowed up like that. However, a look at his prayer from within that beast’s belly makes it clear that Jonah did not view it that way at all. Jonah did not go to God complaining of his then present location. He went to God thankful for that location! Look at his prayer, as God has preserved it in Jonah 2. Jonah had already called out to God before ever that fish showed up, and he understood that the fish was not the trial, it was the miraculous rescue from a sea of self-inflicted trials.
I have to credit R. C. Sproul in part for my understanding of this passage, for I know much of it comes from having heard him teach on the significance of it. However, it does seem clear from Jonah’s words that he is thanking God for a rescue accomplished, not crying out for a rescue yet to be seen. He had descended to the roots of the mountains. The earth had already engulfed him forever, bug God had already brought him back from the pit (Jon 2:6).
There is this in Jonah’s example that we ought to take fully to heart. Nowhere in this whole episode does he rail against God for what He is doing. Neither does he play the game of blaming the devil for his trials. Jonah, for all his running, does not run from his own decisions. He acknowledges his error and he accedes to the punishment of it. Consider that the sailors whose lives he had put at risk by his choices were more reticent about throwing him to the sea than he was. Even after he had confessed himself the cause of their present woes, even after he had told them what must be done for their own safety, they did all that was in their power to find another path. They both labored and prayed that some alternative path might be found (Jon 1:13-14), only throwing him upon God’s mercy when no choice remained to them.
Isn’t it something to find that God even uses the rebellion of His own servants to accomplish His good purposes! Look at the result: those men feared the LORD and made vows before Him. We might look at it as though that whole shipload had just prayed the sinner’s prayer. Was it because Jonah had shown himself to be such a good man? Not really. If it had anything directly to do with his example, it could only be with his acceptance of what must transpire. Well, no. There is something more. It is tucked away in his prayer. See, in spite of his foolishness, Jonah had faith in God. Look there in Jonah 2:4. “I said, ‘I have been expelled from Thy sight. Nevertheless I will look again toward Thy holy temple.” That is the voice of one who recalls the promises of God. That is the voice of a faith like Abraham’s faith.
At first read, it might sound like he was expressing a confidence that he would see the light of day again, so as to be able to look toward that temple. However, his is not the voice of presumption, but the voice of hopeful prayer. He was recalling the words of his predecessors. He remembered the promise: if My people will return to Me and repent of their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven.
So, Jonah sees the fish as an answer, as proof that God was true to His word, and had indeed not only heard from heaven, but answered. He’s not looking for devils to blame. He’s taking the opportunity to thank the living God. He is acknowledging once again the goodness of God’s providential care for him. He knows full well he doesn’t deserve it, and he knows full well that he has received it anyway. All is to God’s good purpose, and this is reason enough to give thanks.
So, that fish is no trial. It is the means of salvation. This, to me, speaks volumes of the way in which Jonah foreshadows the Christ. I cannot say that Jesus did not consider the cross a trial. I could no more say that Jonah did not find the vessel chosen for his restoration troubling. The cross was a trial beyond our imagining, more for the separation it demanded of Jesus than for the physical torments. Yet, Jesus could look upon that trial and recognize the means of salvation, just as Jonah, sitting in the belly of a whale could count it the means of not only his own salvation, but also the salvation of those in Ninevah to whom he was being sent.
Obviously, I cannot say it with certainty, but I suspect that Jonah already understood, as he spoke this prayer, that he would get to Ninevah, and that his words would be received to great effect. The simple fact that God had been pleased to rescue him from himself was a pretty strong hint in that direction. As confirmation, I can offer his reaction when the people of Ninevah repented. “See? I knew this was going to happen. That’s why I didn’t want to come here.” Nevertheless, not Jonah’s will, but God’s will was done.
When I consider that Jonah saw the fish as the means of salvation rather than a trial, and alongside this place the foreshadowing of Jesus’ crucifixion, something amazing emerges. Think about this: Jesus, the Christ of God, though He sweat blood at the thought of what lay ahead for Him, still looked at the cross not as a trial, but as the means of salvation! Like Jonah, He would have been glad to see God find another way to accomplish His purpose. Like Jonah, though, He would submit to God’s will and purpose, although in His case the submission was far more readily given. Jonah required convincing and correction. Jesus did not.
Then, there is the parallel of burial. Jonah spent three days and nights buried at sea, yet in the midst of it, He could declare with full faith, “Nevertheless, I will look again to Thy holy temple” (Jon 2:4). If it were not for this confidence in God, even as he was running away, I don’t see how he could have advised the sailors to throw him overboard. Why else would a man suggest that the last vestige of hope for survival be removed from him in favor of certain death? So long as the ship remained, there was the chance he would ride through the storm on that ship. Once thrown into the sea, and the ship blown onward into the distance, no chance remained at all. Yet, he willingly took that course. Why? Because he knew God was faithful and true.
Jesus also had a choice. He could have avoided Jerusalem, knowing the trouble that awaited. He could have opted to go to the Gentiles Himself, rather than saving that job for His disciples. So long as He remained out of the hands of the Sadducees and Pharisees, He had hope to survive. As soon as He was turned over to them, all hope was extinguished, and He knew this well. Yet, He too, had full confidence in God’s faithfulness. As horrifying a prospect as the cross was to Him in personal terms, He would face it, knowing that it was not a useless and futile trial, but the very means of salvation that He should do so. He knew, as much as He trembled to consider the path He must take, that though He ‘descended to the roots of the mountains,’ though ‘the earth barred Him around forever,’ yet, God has ‘brought up His life from the pit’ (Jon 2:6). Think about that. Both Jonah and Jesus were in a place were death was their reality. In purely rational terms, they could find no reason or possibility of life. But, since their reasoning included God, “impossible does not apply.” Not only does impossible not apply, but the impossible is already done! Jonah didn’t just look forward with confidence. He didn’t say, “God, I’m sure You will do this for me.” No, he says, “You have done this thing.” He’s still in the belly of the whale, yet he knows that his rescue is not just a future hope, it’s an accomplished fact.
You and I are still here on earth, still in the grip of our sins, of our fallen nature, though that grip is weakening day by day. Yet, we know – we certainly ought to know – that our salvation is not just a future hope, it’s an accomplished fact. Our sanctification, while still in process, is not just a future hope, it’s an accomplished fact. It’s not of our doing that we can have this confidence. It’s because of the confidence that Jesus had as He submitted Himself fully and finally to the plans and purposes of the Father. “Nevertheless, not My will, but Thine be done.” Nevertheless, the confidence that “You will not let Your chosen One suffer decay.” “You have already brought up my life from the pit, though I have not yet entered it.” We, who walk in the blessings of what Jesus willingly went through, can have that same confidence. We, too, have already been brought up from the pit, though we have yet to be put into it.
Let me turn to Solomon and the queen who came to visit. As an aside, I find curious that the record of Solomon’s rule as we find it in the books of the Kings, has him at the height of his success in 1Ki 10, when this queen comes to visit. But, come 1Ki 11, Solomon has begun his moral bankruptcy. Now, there is doubtless some very mundane explanation for the fact that Chapter Eleven is a term synonymous with bankruptcy here in the States. Yet, with a God of no coincidences, isn’t it interesting to find the unparalleled King Solomon sliding into moral failure in Chapter Eleven? It’s nothing to get overly caught up in, of course. I could read the story in the Chronicles instead and this connection would be lost. Neither is it going to be the case that chapter eleven of every book in the Bible has this sense of bankruptcy in it. On the other hand, First Kings is the eleventh book. Still, I would not be inclined to pursue this much, except that the connection has been so impressed upon me.
We live in an age that is deeply concerned with financial bankruptcy. At the same time, it is an age where such bankruptcy is not nearly so catastrophic an event as it once was. It has, to some extent, moved from being the step of last resort to being a relatively painless way to deal with a burdensome credit card debt. Bankruptcy no longer has the impact on one’s future outlook that it did at one time. Companies declare bankruptcy with fair regularity, if only as a way to shed expenditures like the pensions they long promised as part of the contract (or covenant) agreed to by their employees. By this simple maneuver, they find themselves legally absolved from paying their vows. And, other than those most directly impacted by that failure to pay, nobody really pays it much mind. These companies will soon emerge from bankruptcy, like the proverbial phoenix. They are reborn, though the name may remain the same. They no longer have to deal with the baggage of their past. They can take on new baggage, and if it gets too burdensome, well, we already know the solution.
Clearly, there are parallels to this situation in matters of soul and spirit. Just as we live in an age of cheap credit, where even the seriousness of bankruptcy has little impact, we also live in an age of cheap grace, where many are convinced that their past has no impact on their present. Worse yet, these same folks are convinced that their present has no impact on their future. This has ever been a danger with the doctrine of grace. Paul recognized it. He recognized it because he came face to face with it as a side effect of his own preaching. He did not, however, ignore that side effect, nor did he write it off to seed falling in bad soil. No! He made clear that the doctrine of grace was not in any way to be construed as permission to sin. The availability of the bailout of bankruptcy should not be taken as a permit to disregard all financial responsibility, nor to renege on our obligations. Likewise, the doctrine of grace should not be taken as a permit to disregard the Law of God, nor to disregard the promises we have made to Him.
Yet, in our day, grace is often put forward in just such a sense. Come and be forgiven. So far, so good. That is sound, and in keeping with the Gospel of Christ. But, where is the ‘go, and sin no more’? It is largely ignored. There is no demand placed upon the believer, because, well, if he sins, he can always come back next week and recommit. There’s always bankruptcy. Have your debt cancelled and start over. Oh! But, it’s not that easy! We dwell in God’s economy, not the world economy. Consider this. If we go on sinning willfully after receiving the Truth, there is no further sacrifice for our sins, only the certainty of judgment and consuming fury. Those who set aside the Law die without mercy. How much worse shall it be for those who set aside the redemption bought by the Son of God (Heb 10:26-29)?
In God’s economy, there is but the one time that we are allowed to go to bankruptcy court. Does that mean that any little slipup we may experience after conversion is the end for us? It cannot be, for this would require a perfection of man that is disallowed by the very fact of Christ. If it were in us to walk sinless, even with the power of the Cross, then there would be no need for the righteousness of Christ. We are back to being able to save ourselves, and the death of God’s Son has been made an empty, and because it is empty, also evil, action on the part of God. No. There is no man of God so advanced that he shall not transgress the Law, perhaps even for an extended period of time. I tell you, though, that the man of God, even as he sins, is not only aware of that sin, but pained by it. The act of sin is indeed willful, for how can a man do what he has not willed to do? But, for the man of God, there is a war. The flesh and the spirit are at odds. The flesh has always been in that place of easy credit, in that place of doing as it pleases and damn the consequences. The spirit, however, has been reborn and renewed. It knows better. It desires to live within its means, to live in accord with the Law of peace, but finds itself joined to this foolish flesh. All of life, since we have been converted, has become a struggle between these two, a struggle for control.
Holy Father, knowing in myself the reality of this battle, I come to You. I come in thanks for the sacrifice of Your Son, of His call upon me and His redemption of me, apart from which I could not dare to call Your name. I come to You in thanks for so awakening within me the spirit of righteousness that this struggle with my flesh is a reality. For, apart from the rebirth You have given, I should be quite satisfied to walk in the living death of this flesh, with nothing before me but the grave. But You, my God, have chosen to adopt me, such as I am. You have created this desire in me to prosper as You define prosperity.
God! I know the agony of this battle between flesh and spirit, between old man and new. I know, as well, that victory is not to be had in my own strength. Oh, may I never be so foolish as to attempt to win this war of the spirit apart from You! Lord, I look upon this man Solomon, whom You blessed beyond measure. I see him become morally bankrupt in the midst of blessing, and I know I am at risk. You have blessed me so, and You have given fair warning that with the blessing comes the danger of forgetting You, forgetting my dependence on You. May it never be!
Is this the reason for the thorns, my God? I feel as though I understand what Paul was dealing with, that old way that just won’t die off, as much as I would have it dead. In the midst of all the goodness You have poured into my life, this thing remains. Unless You remove it from me, I suppose it always shall. And yet, as You have been teaching me, I must look to Your good purpose in what seems so evil. I can only suppose that You allow this thing so that I cannot forget my need for You. Even so, my God, I would seek its removal. Nevertheless, my God, Your will be done. For removal or for persistence, Your will be done, and may You find my will wholly submitted.
Well, then, let me turn to this Queen of the South. In some ways, she is not far different from the Pharisees. This might explain why Jesus chose her example in response to their wicked unbelief. She, like they, had heard the stories of what God was doing. What was told of Solomon among the nations was told with the understanding that the God of Israel was the real cause of his wisdom and wealth. What was told of Jesus was told with the understanding that the God of Israel was the real cause of the healing and deliverance. Like the Pharisees, this queen heard, but she didn’t really believe what she was hearing.
It is at this point that differences begin to emerge. The queen wasn’t convinced of what she had heard, but she aimed to find out. The Pharisees, by and large, couldn’t be bothered. Oh, they had sent out a few of their members to probe John’s ministry, but they really weren’t looking for proof of God’s working. They were looking to preserve their own power by discrediting the work. There are exceptions, of course, but by and large when we see a Pharisee in the presence of Jesus, we find he has come to hinder the work, not to confirm it.
This is a lesson I have had in other circumstances, but the contrast presented between the queen and the Pharisee affirms it. We are called to test and to prove the work of God, but there is a point where proper testing falls into crass cynicism. We are not called to join the skeptics, only to check what has been said. As the Bereans, we are called to pour over the Scriptures to confirm whether the things we are taught are true. The Bereans did so with the hope of finding they were. The Queen of the South, I feel sure, also came hoping to find the stories true. The Pharisees, on the other hand, came intent on proving the message false. Indeed, so determined were they to find fault with the work of God that they didn’t even concern themselves with their own adherence to the God they claimed to serve. They cheerfully set aside every tenet of righteousness in their efforts to mark Jesus as unrighteous.
So, the Queen made great effort to see if God was really moving. She traveled great distance for the chance to prove the rumors. Not only that, but she came bearing gifts for the purported man of God the like of which, it is said, were never seen from that region again. This is not the act of a skeptic. A skeptic might take the journey, just to prove his suspicions, but he certainly won’t be bringing gifts to the one he doesn’t believe. The gifts tell the difference. She wanted to prove the God of Israel true in this man. The Pharisees wanted to prove the God of Israel false. For, otherwise, they must admit their own falsity.
Another difference lies in their reaction to the proof they were given. The queen, when she came with her questions, actually listened to the responses Solomon gave. She found that he did indeed have the wisdom of God by which to answer the most difficult questions she could pose. Now, I really don’t think this was anything like that tournament of riddles that we find in ‘The Hobbit’. I think she came with real problems, problems that she needed to solve as the queen of her nation, the solutions of which eluded her. It was no game show prize that she brought along in her caravan, but what seemed in her sight to be the reasonable recompense for having her problems solved by this man.
Look, then, at the Pharisees. They came, it is true, with questions. However, those questions were posed as riddles to trap the Teacher. They sought to hit Jesus with some conundrum that He could not answer without offending either the Jews, the Romans or both. Indeed, they weren’t interested in the answers to their questions. They wouldn’t have even asked if they hadn’t felt certain they knew every possible answer. So, when His answers came, and they were none of the ones the Pharisees had come up with for themselves, they were shocked. They were shocked, but they weren’t changed. They heard, but they didn’t hear. They heard only that Jesus had somehow escaped the trap they laid. They recognized that He had found a clever answer to avoid their intent, but they didn’t really pay attention to what the answer was, nor did they consider the implications of His giving the answer. In short, they saw the proof that what was said of this Man and of what God was doing through Him was true, but rather than accept and acknowledge the proof, they rejected it, ignored it. Worse still, rather than acknowledge the goodness of God that was so evident in the ministry of Jesus, they credited the devil. Absolutely irrational! It is because of this that Jesus declares this woman will rise up to issue a friend of the court brief which will only confirm the just condemnation of these false leaders.
Because of this blindness, and because of their insistence on proofs of their own imagining, Jesus declares these ‘seekers’ to be evil, morally derelict. He says they are full of annoyances and hardships. My, how rude that sounds! His point is quite simple, though. It was not their prerogative to decide by what signs Messiah would be announced. That was God’s prerogative and His alone. He had long since revealed what those signs were to be, and caused them to be recorded in the text of Torah so that these very men who challenged Jesus could know what to expect.
Indeed, even the name of Jonah declares the sign God had not only chosen, but already provided. Jonah’s name is translated ‘the dove’, and at the baptism which marked the beginning of His ministry, Jesus had received the sign of the dove, the sign of Jonah, if you will. No other sign out to have been necessary to make clear to these ‘men of God’ that God’s Man was here. The Holy Spirit had descended upon the Son of God in bodily form as a dove and, lest that not be enough, the Father declared His choice. “This is My Chosen One, My Beloved Son. Listen to Him.” It is a morally bankrupt generation that is not satisfied with the sign God prepared and provided. It is a wickedness that ought to be unimaginable when God’s people are not satisfied with God’s Word.
In recent studies, I noted that this demand for a different sign, a sign not of God’s choosing but of their own imagining, was a demand for the Righteous One to sin. It was as much a temptation as the more direct assault that Satan had made upon Jesus in the desert, and it was just as unsuccessful. There is also this in the demands, though. The demand for different signs was also pretty solid proof that no sign would ever suffice for them. It really would have made no difference to their faith had Jesus complied. Had He done precisely what they asked of Him, still they would have found reason to condemn, reason not to believe.
As I was pursuing this thought, the problem with this whole ‘seeker friendly’ movement became more clear to me. That whole movement, it seems to me, is at best a movement that is doing exactly what Jesus refused to do. They are bent on giving the seeker what he is seeking. They are determined to provide whatever people come looking for. Oh, they’ll point to Jesus, certainly, but it seems He becomes almost an afterthought. Look at the programs we have for you! Look at the entertainment we’re providing. Counseling? You want counseling? We’ve got it! Daycare? We’ve got it! A safe dating service? Sure! You want to hear how God can help, but you’d prefer not to have too many demands put on you in return? Hey! We’ve got just the program for you!
Oh, but what do I hear Jesus saying? “No other sign will be given.” He insists on doing only what God has prescribed for Him to do. He is determined to speak only what God has given Him to speak. He is committed to declaring the Truth, the whole Truth, and nothing but the Truth. He doesn’t sugar coat the message to make it more acceptable to those who are hard of understanding. He doesn’t present the message stripped of any threatening aspect. He doesn’t ignore hell’s reality. As I was reading in Table Talk this morning, Jesus makes more mention of hell than anybody else. It was central to His message, because it is such a real danger for every one of us. This is your future apart from the work of the Christ. If not for the grace of God, that is what I would have to look forward to. The grave is not the issue. If it were only that, only the cessation of the struggle of this life, who would tremble at the thought of it? No, it’s what lies beyond the grave that rightfully causes us such concern. Apart from Jesus, there is only one thing to be found on the other side, and it’s not going to be pleasant. Oh, many will laugh at the idea of it today, but they won’t be laughing when they are finally forced to face the reality.
The men of Ninevah repented. Why did they repent? Was it because somebody threatened to destroy them? No, not just somebody. The One who had brought this Jonah to them in such strange fashion had sent warning. The One Who had just made it clear to them that He could do the impossible by keeping His man alive in the belly of a fish had promised them destruction if they would not change their ways. Well, first off, if they had not believed that there was a Power behind Jonah’s words capable of the impossibility of destroying what was then the most powerful regime in the region, Jonah’s words would have been empty things. I have to say, though, that if they had not understood that something lay beyond the grave, the threat of being put in the grave would not have had nearly as much power.
I have to say, let us hear the warning in these words. Let us hear how easily God’s people had gone so far astray, and how impervious they had become to correction. No other sing will be given but the sign God has chosen. No other Gospel ought to be preached but the Gospel God has chosen. Enough with the happy go lucky message of the modern church! Enough with the foolishness of saying ‘God wants you rich and powerful.’ Access was not given to Paul for him to accumulate wealth for himself, nor to provide him with fame. It was given because he bore the Gospel, he spoke the Gospel, and he insisted on the unique claim to Truth in the Gospel. He wasn’t going to change his message, God’s message, to please anybody. We need to return to the same determination to speak God’s words in the way He has taught us, not in the way that seems right to us, not in the way that sounds pleasant to those seekers who seek only their own consolation.
Consider what Paul say to the Corinthians: The Jews ask for signs, and the Greeks seek for wisdom (1Co 1:22-23). In other words, everybody has their own preconceived notions as to what proof they require of God. Everybody comes to God demanding that He prove Himself real. Now, hear Paul’s reaction. “In spite of all that, we preach a crucified Christ. The Jews can’t handle that particular sign, so they reject Him. The Greeks can’t recognize the wisdom of God’s plan, so they think it foolishness, and they, too, reject Him.” Now, I’ve attempted, in my wording of that passage, to make clear what is not entirely obvious in Paul’s words. The Crucified Christ is both the sign of God’s choosing, and the manifestation of His wisdom. So, we must understand that Paul is neither condemning signs nor wisdom. Indeed, he is not even condemning these people for seeking signs or wisdom. His complaint, God’s complaint, is not that we come looking for proof of His reality. The problem He has is with a people that don’t recognize the proof they ask for when it is given.
They seek for signs, and the sign of Jonah, a man dead and buried three days come back to life, is given. Yet, rather than acknowledge that they have been given the proof they sought, they declare the whole thing a fraud, lest they should return to God and be healed. They seek for a wisdom beyond their own, and yet, when faced with the plan of God, which He had caused to be foretold long ago, they insist that their wisdom is superior to His. They want a wisdom beyond their own yet, at the same time, less than their own. This is the issue with seekers. They are not really seeking, at least not after the thing they claim to pursue. What they are really seeking, like any good skeptic, is a reason not to believe the Truth. What the seeker friendly movement has provided them is an alternate reality that looks finer, tastes better, smells nicer. It fits more snugly with their present, demands no particular change in their habits or their tastes, has no particular concern with doing something about the sin in their lives. No, no. You can keep those and have God, too. They have given the seeker/skeptic exactly what they wanted, reason not to believe.
God, forgive us for this habitual bending and twisting of Your word. Forgive us, Holy Father, for we are so bent on ignoring the signs that are here in favor of different signs. We are so bent on telling You what to do, rather than asking You what we ought to be about. Oh! Let us not get caught up in seeking a different God than You! Let us not fall into the idolatry of pursuing a different agenda than that which You have provided. May Your Church come once more to the place of repentance, and truly turn from all the other gospels it has made up to avoid the difficulties of carrying Your cross.
