Then and Now
Commentary
“Current Events” can be very significant at the time they happen, but they can change and/or grow in significance as time goes by. Micah addresses a current political situation in his day that is pretty significant. Judah is under siege from Assyria. But the words of hope that he shares grow in significance over the centuries until hundreds of years later biblical experts are able to tell the Magi that Micah is telling us -- and is still telling us -- that the greatest king of kings will be coming from one of the smallest of the clans of Israel.
The author of Hebrews looks back to the significance of the sacrifical system that God instituted among the people. This was a means of reconciliation to cover a wide range of situations. But to cling to that system legalistically as a means of excusing sins you mean to commit anyway is being superceded by a more perfect reconcilation through the cross of Jesus, one that requires us to make an even more difficult sacrifice -- our old way of life.
Mary’s visit to her much older cousin Elizabeth is a pretty significant current event. Both are pregnant, against all odds, and both are important to the salvation history God has planned. In this case we look backwards, years earlier, and ask what thing did Elizabeth say or do with or for Mary when she was a little girl that had such a lasting effect on Mary. More than anyone else, when Mary’s word was turned upside down she didn’t hesitate -- but hurried to make the three day journey to the hill country of Judah to be with Elizabeth.
Micah 5:2-5a
Micah is speaking to a political danger in his time. King Ahaz is threatened by the formation of a political coalition by Ephraim, the Northern Kingdom of their Kin, referred to as Israel and Syria. They wanted to take the throne away from Ahaz, put in a puppet king, and attack Assyria. This is crazy. They’re not going to defeat Assyria. So Ahaz refused to join the coalition and it looks like he is going to be replaced by someone named Taba’el, which means, literally, “good for nothing.”
It’s all blown up. Assyria doesn’t take this lying down. They destroy Israel, the northern kingdom, and are besieging Jerusalem. This is a national humiliation, symbolized by the language about the king being struck on the cheek.
But Micah wants them to know this will not succeed. God has promised that a descendant of David will rule over God’s people forever, and such a king will come forth from Bethlehem to reign forever. (This is at the same time that Isaiah is prophesizing, telling King Ahaz that a virgin is with child and will give birth to a song who will be called Emmanuel, God with us. Isaiah and Micah are a dynamic duo.)
And Assyria is defeated. They surround the city and besiege Jerusalem. The people are ready to surrender. And an angel of the Lord kills a hundred and thirty thousand Assyrians in a single night. The Assyrian king staggers away, reeling, and he will be shortly killed in battle. The danger will be over.
For now.
Eventually, however, the unfaithfulness of the kings of Israel and Judah and the people lead to the destruction of their temple and the end of the kings. There is no king descended from David on the throne. What happened to God’s promise?
Micah addressed a current political situation in his day that was pretty significant. But his words of hope grew in significance over the centuries until hundreds of years later biblical experts are able to tell the Magi that Micah is telling us -- and is still telling us -- that the greatest king of kings will be coming from one of the smallest of the clans of Israel.
Hebrews 10:5-10
The author of Hebrews looks back to the significance of the sacrifical system that God instituted among the people. This was a means of reconciliation to cover a wide range of situations. But to cling to that system legalistically as a means of excusing sins you mean to commit anyway is being superceded by a more perfect reconcilation through the cross of Jesus, one that requires us to make an even more difficult sacrifice -- our old way of life.
This divine impatience with the sacrifical system is expressed in prophets like Isaiah, and the intention is to make it clear that the original intent was lost. Enter Jesus, we are told, who intends to fulfill the purpose of the sacrifical system once and for all, and to do so according to the will of the scriptures. One thinks of the scene in Luke where Jesus laboriously unrolls the Isaiah scroll to the correct spot, reads a few verses about the coming Jubilee, and announces that this balancing of the scales is fulfilled in him.
“Look!” Jesus says, “I am doing your will in the turning of the scroll.” This is all coming from Psalm 40:6-8. The writer quotes freely from the Greek translation of the Hebrew scriptures, known as the Septuagint, putting these words in the mouth of Jesus. The psalm speaks, not so much of a book but as a book turned by “a little head.” This refers to the the round wooden ball stuck on the end of the sticks around which the scroll was wound. We are invited to see Jesus in our mind’s eye opening the scroll of the Psalms, his hands bounded by the scroll beneath his hands and the ball above it.
We are then invited to reinterpret what God intends to do now that a suffering servant has been commissioned. Suffering once for all for all time, Jesus will fulfill the sacrifical sysem perfectly and permanently.
It’s a stretch. It’s a paradigm shift. We church people aren’t good at change. We’d rather repeat the same tired programs that no longer accomplish their original purpose, instead of moving with the Spirit into grander and more glorious ways of doing things.
Luke 1:39-45 (46-55)
Church camp, getting pushed out of our comfort zone, can have a lasting, even lifelong, effect on people of all ages. By day there are hikes and crafts and Bible lessons. Every night is campfire, where you sang corny songs, and hear a story that was a stealth sermon, some dramatic tale that had a message.
On the last morning, when everyone has packed their suitcases and is waiting to go home, and the most homesick and resfentful are already talking about what they’re going to do when they come back next year, as strangers become friends, you realize, we have all been changed. Camp does that.
And if you think about it, Mary, the mother of Jesus, probably came from a people used to camping out on church trips.
Think about it. Every year she and Joseph and Jesus travel three days south from Galilee to Jerusalem to take part in the Passover. They didn’t have to. Passover requires no clergy, and can take place anywhere, but a big group set out together every year from Nazareth, a three day journey, walking, sleeping outdoors, cooking food over fires, and in general, probably having a great time.
This suggests that Mary did this because her family did this when she was younger. Feast of Booths, or Tents, which involved the whole village camping outside of town. And they probably took part in the annual harvest festival, known as the Feast of Booths, which was really family camp.
The Bible is all about camping and changing. Not only did God’s people camp forty years in the desert, they remembered it every year with the Feast of Booths or Tents, which was really family camp. Everyone in the town was expected to set up tents outside of town after the harvest was brought in. They had barbecues, and ate fresh food, cooking it over an open flame. They roughed it, and grew to appreciate even more the things they took for granted in village life.
In the second passage Mary has received the most astonishing news imaginable -- she is going to give birth to the long awaited Messiah in the most astounding way imaginable. And who does she go to? Her cousin who is decades older. It’s not an easy trip. It’s long and hard. It’s a journey she probably took on foot.
Why? Why Elizabeth?
This is an important question.
What happened that told Mary that Elizabeth would be her redeemer, the one who would stand by her? It must have been something. Really something! I don’t know that they were at camp together, but maybe at the Feast of Booths, family camp, when you all got together, or else at some other religious festival where all the family was together. Maybe Mary and Elizabeth were both out of their comfort zone, making the best they could of the camping situation, and they learned that despite their great difference in age, they were two peas in a pod, and they could each count on the other.
And the kindness of Elizabeth to Mary, however far back it had happened, meant Mary had a place to go when things got rough, and a sanctuary while she was pregnant with Jesus, the savior of the world. We’re all being blessed on this day because of Elizabeth’s kindness.
Camp creates life long bonds. Like if someday a person were to find themselves in trouble, they’d know that even if you weren’t from the same generation, or the same background or town or outlook, they’d know they could count on you anyway. And just knowing there’s a person like you can be enough.
If your back was in a corner, who would you turn to? More important, who would turn to you?
The author of Hebrews looks back to the significance of the sacrifical system that God instituted among the people. This was a means of reconciliation to cover a wide range of situations. But to cling to that system legalistically as a means of excusing sins you mean to commit anyway is being superceded by a more perfect reconcilation through the cross of Jesus, one that requires us to make an even more difficult sacrifice -- our old way of life.
Mary’s visit to her much older cousin Elizabeth is a pretty significant current event. Both are pregnant, against all odds, and both are important to the salvation history God has planned. In this case we look backwards, years earlier, and ask what thing did Elizabeth say or do with or for Mary when she was a little girl that had such a lasting effect on Mary. More than anyone else, when Mary’s word was turned upside down she didn’t hesitate -- but hurried to make the three day journey to the hill country of Judah to be with Elizabeth.
Micah 5:2-5a
Micah is speaking to a political danger in his time. King Ahaz is threatened by the formation of a political coalition by Ephraim, the Northern Kingdom of their Kin, referred to as Israel and Syria. They wanted to take the throne away from Ahaz, put in a puppet king, and attack Assyria. This is crazy. They’re not going to defeat Assyria. So Ahaz refused to join the coalition and it looks like he is going to be replaced by someone named Taba’el, which means, literally, “good for nothing.”
It’s all blown up. Assyria doesn’t take this lying down. They destroy Israel, the northern kingdom, and are besieging Jerusalem. This is a national humiliation, symbolized by the language about the king being struck on the cheek.
But Micah wants them to know this will not succeed. God has promised that a descendant of David will rule over God’s people forever, and such a king will come forth from Bethlehem to reign forever. (This is at the same time that Isaiah is prophesizing, telling King Ahaz that a virgin is with child and will give birth to a song who will be called Emmanuel, God with us. Isaiah and Micah are a dynamic duo.)
And Assyria is defeated. They surround the city and besiege Jerusalem. The people are ready to surrender. And an angel of the Lord kills a hundred and thirty thousand Assyrians in a single night. The Assyrian king staggers away, reeling, and he will be shortly killed in battle. The danger will be over.
For now.
Eventually, however, the unfaithfulness of the kings of Israel and Judah and the people lead to the destruction of their temple and the end of the kings. There is no king descended from David on the throne. What happened to God’s promise?
Micah addressed a current political situation in his day that was pretty significant. But his words of hope grew in significance over the centuries until hundreds of years later biblical experts are able to tell the Magi that Micah is telling us -- and is still telling us -- that the greatest king of kings will be coming from one of the smallest of the clans of Israel.
Hebrews 10:5-10
The author of Hebrews looks back to the significance of the sacrifical system that God instituted among the people. This was a means of reconciliation to cover a wide range of situations. But to cling to that system legalistically as a means of excusing sins you mean to commit anyway is being superceded by a more perfect reconcilation through the cross of Jesus, one that requires us to make an even more difficult sacrifice -- our old way of life.
This divine impatience with the sacrifical system is expressed in prophets like Isaiah, and the intention is to make it clear that the original intent was lost. Enter Jesus, we are told, who intends to fulfill the purpose of the sacrifical system once and for all, and to do so according to the will of the scriptures. One thinks of the scene in Luke where Jesus laboriously unrolls the Isaiah scroll to the correct spot, reads a few verses about the coming Jubilee, and announces that this balancing of the scales is fulfilled in him.
“Look!” Jesus says, “I am doing your will in the turning of the scroll.” This is all coming from Psalm 40:6-8. The writer quotes freely from the Greek translation of the Hebrew scriptures, known as the Septuagint, putting these words in the mouth of Jesus. The psalm speaks, not so much of a book but as a book turned by “a little head.” This refers to the the round wooden ball stuck on the end of the sticks around which the scroll was wound. We are invited to see Jesus in our mind’s eye opening the scroll of the Psalms, his hands bounded by the scroll beneath his hands and the ball above it.
We are then invited to reinterpret what God intends to do now that a suffering servant has been commissioned. Suffering once for all for all time, Jesus will fulfill the sacrifical sysem perfectly and permanently.
It’s a stretch. It’s a paradigm shift. We church people aren’t good at change. We’d rather repeat the same tired programs that no longer accomplish their original purpose, instead of moving with the Spirit into grander and more glorious ways of doing things.
Luke 1:39-45 (46-55)
Church camp, getting pushed out of our comfort zone, can have a lasting, even lifelong, effect on people of all ages. By day there are hikes and crafts and Bible lessons. Every night is campfire, where you sang corny songs, and hear a story that was a stealth sermon, some dramatic tale that had a message.
On the last morning, when everyone has packed their suitcases and is waiting to go home, and the most homesick and resfentful are already talking about what they’re going to do when they come back next year, as strangers become friends, you realize, we have all been changed. Camp does that.
And if you think about it, Mary, the mother of Jesus, probably came from a people used to camping out on church trips.
Think about it. Every year she and Joseph and Jesus travel three days south from Galilee to Jerusalem to take part in the Passover. They didn’t have to. Passover requires no clergy, and can take place anywhere, but a big group set out together every year from Nazareth, a three day journey, walking, sleeping outdoors, cooking food over fires, and in general, probably having a great time.
This suggests that Mary did this because her family did this when she was younger. Feast of Booths, or Tents, which involved the whole village camping outside of town. And they probably took part in the annual harvest festival, known as the Feast of Booths, which was really family camp.
The Bible is all about camping and changing. Not only did God’s people camp forty years in the desert, they remembered it every year with the Feast of Booths or Tents, which was really family camp. Everyone in the town was expected to set up tents outside of town after the harvest was brought in. They had barbecues, and ate fresh food, cooking it over an open flame. They roughed it, and grew to appreciate even more the things they took for granted in village life.
In the second passage Mary has received the most astonishing news imaginable -- she is going to give birth to the long awaited Messiah in the most astounding way imaginable. And who does she go to? Her cousin who is decades older. It’s not an easy trip. It’s long and hard. It’s a journey she probably took on foot.
Why? Why Elizabeth?
This is an important question.
What happened that told Mary that Elizabeth would be her redeemer, the one who would stand by her? It must have been something. Really something! I don’t know that they were at camp together, but maybe at the Feast of Booths, family camp, when you all got together, or else at some other religious festival where all the family was together. Maybe Mary and Elizabeth were both out of their comfort zone, making the best they could of the camping situation, and they learned that despite their great difference in age, they were two peas in a pod, and they could each count on the other.
And the kindness of Elizabeth to Mary, however far back it had happened, meant Mary had a place to go when things got rough, and a sanctuary while she was pregnant with Jesus, the savior of the world. We’re all being blessed on this day because of Elizabeth’s kindness.
Camp creates life long bonds. Like if someday a person were to find themselves in trouble, they’d know that even if you weren’t from the same generation, or the same background or town or outlook, they’d know they could count on you anyway. And just knowing there’s a person like you can be enough.
If your back was in a corner, who would you turn to? More important, who would turn to you?
