Wednesday, 5 December 2007

Stumbling Blocks [8-9]

One of the messianic promises of Isaiah 8 is that the Messiah will be "a snare, an obstacle and a stumbling stone to both the houses of Israel." (8:14) My first thought is, what kind of a promise is this? No one wants to stumble! Of course, it could just be a warning that most people will not recognize the Messiah, so don't be surprised when your neighbors think you are criminally insane for following the Christ. But then in 23, Isaiah says something else, that "in the end he has glorified the seaward road, the land west of the Jordan, the District of the Gentiles. Anguish has taken wing, dispelled is darkness: for there is no gloom where but now there was distress." Here at last we find out that the Gentiles are not forgotten, that they are going to be a part of this transformation.

Although I don't believe in pre-destination, I do believe in God planning and allowing for human failings. What if the very fact that Israel stumbled caused the Gentiles to take notice? We know that the Romans became aware (later, painfully aware) of the Christians mainly because they seemed to be causing trouble among the Jews, who were already a problem people as far as the Romans were concerned. What interest would the Romans have had in one more Jewish leader who made them more reverent and more joyful for a generation, and then faded from memory? Roman memory at least. What interest would the Greeks have had in the workings of the Jewish God if there had not been some controversy? Some test that stumped Jewish Pharisees before going on to trouble Greek philosophers?  Israel stumbling caught everyone else's attention.

[Edit] I did not address Isaiah 9 above at all because I was running out of time and was kindly encouraged to post already, so life can go on.  Chapter 9 is such a glorious chapter though, that I can't skip it.  As my friend Pere pointed out, you really have to listen to Handel's The Messiah while reading it.  There are so many famous lines.  "The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light," "For a child is born to us, a son is given us," "They name him Wonder-Counselor, God-Hero, Father-Forever, Prince of Peace."  Aside from having some wonderful names for addressing God, this shows us more clearly who He is.  The one that particularly sticks out to me is God-Hero.  (Note: this is the New American Bible translation; most others translate it as Mighty God.  I think it interesting that Hero is a possible translation though.)  Hero usually indicates a person who is somehow able to do the impossible or near impossible.  Heros often have amazing qualities, but most of all, there is some sacrifice involved.  We call people heros today when they risk their lives (or even give them up) to rescue someone else.  Our heros in literature are often called upon to make a great sacrifice rather than simply win on brute strength or because the odds were in their favor.  If you look at the words God-Hero then, they seem to be a contradiction.  God is all powerful.  Heros are not.  End of story.  But then of course, we have Jesus, who, though perfectly divine, willingly became fully human.  At no point, did he preserve his life through powers not given to man, nor did he call on the Father to do so.  Instead, he gave his life to rescue all of mankind from death.  A seemingly self-contradictory prophecy is fulfilled in his obedience and humility.

5 comments:

r. mentzer said...

Thinking of God as one with whom we are in a personal relationship (and I know this is a purely intuitive connection), I wonder if the snare in this case might be the revelation that tradition, rules, and external behaviour are not the way to God--the legalistic view of religion in some ways a comfortable one: your heart doesn't have to be in any of your rituals.

Waiting on God and hoping in him are relational, though, with no rites or ceremonies attached. The righteous man waits and hopes while he does not understand (while others curse their kings and gods), and will ultimately be under the reign of the Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace (9:6).

The ten commandments are not often seen as laws that are evidence of and leaders to love, and perhaps the discipline of the Lord is not seen as such, either. In the previous chapter, the Lord says "If you do not stand firm in faith, you shall not stand at all". What with the emphasis on faith and then hope, love cannot be far off.

Quele said...

It seems like a difficult balance. On one hand, we do not want to have a legalistic religion where we expect that if we perform X, then God will give us Y. If God fails to give us Y, then we perform X more often and more elaborately until finally we give up and decide God isn't listening after all.

On the other hand, we don't want to do away with all ceremony and rites purely in the name of making things easier. I've heard a number of people say they don't believe in organized religion. I always wondered exactly what they mean by that. It needs to be disorganized? That's a bit like saying I don't believe in organized math or organized fire departments. Things are organized when they're too complex for one person to perform alone or to hold the entirety of knowledge alone. So it is with some rituals. They are there to support knowledge or an act that is beyond an individual. The Eucharist is an obvious example. Community prayer is also very important as is being answerable to that community in some way. Some rites bring us together for necessary teaching, repentance, or worship. Even in the gospels, this is the case. It's a little discouraging for an introvert like myself to see how seldom Jesus gets to go off on his own and pray. Now and then he does, but more often we see him calling his disciples to him. Alas! I think this means I'm supposed to take part in all the forms of community worship, but not as an empty act. Rather, it should be sincerely and wholeheartedly.

r. mentzer said...

The important thing for me is that the rituals stem from the need to "blend" spirit with matter, especially that the external ritual be an extension of the internal conviction.

From there, we just have to make sure that we institute these things lovingly--I would have problems if they tried to light incense during our prayers in church because the room is very small and I'm asthmatic. "Dear COUGHCOUGH God pleasehelpme COUGHCOUGH breeeeeeaaaaatheee." Altho I suppose it would incite me to prayer.

Quele said...

Hahaha, yes it would! You'd pray fervently the whole time! I wouldn't want to see that done to you though. I imagine that's why incense has been quietly used less and less in small churches.

I agree that everything exterior act must mirror an interior belief. We are both body and spirit. It's a strange combination, and sometimes I wonder why God chose it, but he did. Trying to be all one or all the other is not going have have good results.

r. mentzer said...

So true! I've always liked what Lewis had to say on the subject. And this point about spirit-and-body being united is a great reason to treat yourself to bubble baths and good coffee . . .

"And let me make it quite clear that when Christians say the Christ-life is in them, they do not mean simply something mental or moral. [...] They mean that Christ is actually operating through them; that the whole mass of Christians are the physical organism through which Christ acts--that we are His fingers and muscles, the cells of His body. [Segue explaining that God acts through physical beings to do physical things and that attempting to separate spirit and body is a rather silly idea.] God never meant man to be a purely spiritual creature. That is why He uses material things like bread and wine to put the new life into us. We may think this rather crude and unspiritual. God does not: He invented eating. He likes matter. He invented it." (C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity bk. II, ch. V)

Also, it might do to note that you have just rejected gnosticism, a rather interesting but prevalent heresy.

Sometimes I wish we had more ritual, though. Sometimes worship service seems . . . cold. And watery. It feels like Melissa, from The Hawk and the Dove when she had wine for communion; "That was a bit more like Jesus":) I like lighting candles when I pray.