I’ve been reading in the Book of Hosea recently. Hosea received instruction from God’s Spirit to take a wife. A girl with a “reputation,” shall we say? I’m glad I missed out on that call.
By this woman, Hosea had three children. His first child, a boy, he gave kind of a weird name: Japanese Internment Camp. Ok. That wasn’t actually his name. His real name was “Jezreel.” But the neighbor boys would have reacted to Jezreel the way you’d react to a little boy named “Japanese Internment Camp.” Jezreel was a place of great bloodshed and violence, and it was also a place where the country’s values were scoffed at and defiled.
The next two kids were named “Fascist” and “Injustice.” Whoops, I meant “Unpitied” and “Not-my-people.”
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The book is filled with messages. I mean, that’s how the bible is, right? Lots of messages, lots of different perspectives. You could read Hosea and talk about God’s wrath. You could talk about the violent imagery of battle, drawn swords, pregnant women and children. Or, you could talk about the promises of wrath and how God seems to turn his face from the Israelites. But for all of that, there is the promise of hope given.
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I heard somebody talking about the ten plagues the other day- he was discussing that he thought it inappropriate to inundate children with the notion that God favors one people over another, simply by virtue of their race. Namely, he was talking about the 10th plague- the “Big Nasty,” or as it’s known more commonly, the Visitation of the Angel of Death. It’s also the advent of the longest continuous religious celebration: Passover.
See, I wonder how many times I’ve done the same thing as the guy above? He is honestly looking for the pearl here. And he really believes that teaching children about favoritism is wrong, and here’s the thing- I would say the same thing. Teaching children that God is racist would be very, very wrong. But the thing my friend has done is to really miss the high altitude perspective of the story.
God wasn’t punishing the Egyptians over the nation of Israel. The thing that saved Israel wasn’t their being Israel, it was their obedience to God when He told them to set themselves apart by using the blood of the Lamb to mark their doorways. The same judgment that fell on the Egyptians would have fallen on Israel, had it not been for obedience.
And Pharaoh didn’t obey. 10 times he didn’t obey. He was very, very naughty. But if this was the punishment for being disobedient 10 times, what kind of punishment have I earned for myself? What kind of blood do I need in order to escape God’s judgment on the world?
See that’s the thing that “the world” doesn’t really want to hear: We are all under judgment for disobedience. Not just these people, or those people, stealers, cussers and cursers, drug-abusers, fat people, greedy people or perverts. All of us. Vain people. Mean people. Self-righteous people. Oh yeah. Them too.
The message of God’s prophets and by proxy, God Himself, through the ages, is that judgment is warranted. It is inescapable. That greed, ambition, pride, and the hubris of our race is inescapably and inherently human. That even our good-natured and kindly qualities are self-fulfilling and will become a source of self-righteous pride. Unless. Unless we believe Him, believe that judgment is warranted, believe Him that it comes, and believe Him that we can be passed over.
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It’s hard to transcend your own perspective. I think it helps to remove myself from the story in order to regain that “big-picture” perspective. By reading the story of the Passover in the Bible, with the help of people more mature than myself, I can begin to regain that high-altitude God-perspective of a world that is in need of discipline.
I guess the thing I’m getting to is that I understand why people think the stories and lessons of the bible seem unfair at times. I tend to feel that way sometimes too. But I trust God. I believe He is just, and fair, merciful and compassionate, and that He delights to save and bless. So, trusting that, when I get to thinking something sounds unfair, I try, albeit unsuccessfully at times, to re-understand it, more from a perspective of an absolutely perfect God and an absolutely imperfect me. It eases the corners on my indignation, and warms my heart to God’s compassion.
But there’s more- I bet it also diminishes my inclination to judge others, too. Maybe that’s what a judgmental world needs- a dose of grace.
