Wednesday, April 3, 2019
Good morning, LORD!
But what good does it do to call you “LORD”—even in all caps—if I don’t actually do what you say?
Help me to love you today with my obedience and with my silent clinging. I am hoping that even the desire to love you in obedience and silent clinging pleases you. Perhaps this desire is only the tiniest seed of love, but I will not despise even the tiniest of seeds.
To Expound Torah and to Be Torah
This is what Rabbi Leib, son of Sarah, used to say about those rabbis who expound the Torah: “What does it amount to—that they expound the Torah! A man should see to it that all his actions are a Torah and that he himself becomes so entirely a Torah that one can learn from his habits and his motions, and his motionless clinging to God, that he has become like Heaven itself, of which it is said: ‘There is no speech, there are no words, nether is their voice heard. Their line is gone out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world.’” (Martin Buber, Tale of the Hasidim, vol. 1, p. 169)
Rabbi Abraham said:
“I have learned a new form of service from the wars of Frederick, king of Prussia. It is not necessary to approach the enemy in order to attack him. In fleeing from him, it is possible to circumvent him as he advances, and fall on him from the rear until he is forced to surrender. What is needed is not to strike straight at Evil but to withdraw to the sources of divine power, and from there to circle around Evil, bend it, and transform it into its opposite.” (Martin Buber, Tales of the Hasidim, volume 1, page 115)
Andy Stanley made a similar point in a podcast he calls, “You Might Also Like.” He says that you can’t overcome the temptation of greed by saying, “I’m not going to be greedy! I’m not going to be greedy!” Rather, we overcome greed by . . . Well, frankly, you need to listen to his podcast on You Tube.
I have tried too often frontal assaults on the evil that assaults me. How many times has that actually worked? I don’t know precisely, but I’m pretty sure it’s somewhere between zero and nil.
Do you remember an old cartoon strip called “Cathy”? Cathy was a single young lady who was always going on diets. In every frame of the cartoon segments that chronicled her diets, she gained weight. I can identify.
So, perhaps it would be good if we tried Rabbi Abraham’s approach and Andy Stanley’s approach. Perhaps we should withdraw to God. Maybe life wasn’t meant to be lived by ourselves.
Even if you don’t believe in God—and who of us really does believe in God all that much—you can act as if there is a God. Take the empirical approach. The Scripture says, “Taste and see that the LORD is good” (Psalm 34:8a)
What have got to lose? I mean, besides the chronic losses you suffer when you attack your problems head-on? Withdraw to the source of your strength, of all strength. Your attack might go much better when you have done that.
“The maggid [preacher] of Mezritch said: ‘Now, in exile, the holy spirit comes upon us more easily than at the time the Temple was still standing.
‘A king was driven from his realm and forced to become a wayfarer. When, in the course of his wanderings, he came to the house of poor people, where he was given modest food and shelter, but received as a king, his heart grew light and he chatted with his host as intimately as he had done at court with those who were closest to him.
‘Now, that He is in exile, God does the same’” (Tales of the Hasidim, vol. 1, p. 103).
I often feel like an exile. I have since I was a little kid. I’ve never felt that I fit in anywhere. Maybe that’s because I don’t.
I suspect that we all feel that way some of the time, and that some of us feel that way all of the time. I have no empirical evidence for that, just a hunch.
The hasid, Dov Baer, says that God is also in exile in this world. God as a wandering king—now that’s an interesting way of thinking about God!
The Bible often refers to God as King. This is true whether you look in the Old Testament or the New. While I’m not sure that it ever speaks of God as an exiled king, it frequently comes close.
For example, in the initial visions of Ezekiel (chapters 1-3), who is in exile in Babylon, the prophet sees God’s throne—on wheels no less! Even though the Temple in Jerusalem was in ruins, God was still king, even in exile. Ezekiel saw a very portable, dynamic God.
In the New Testament, Jesus is often portrayed in ways that kings were depicted in the Old Testament. And yet, he was a very strange king, who once said, “The foxes have dens, and the birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head” (Matthew 8:20).
I think that, deep in the human heart, is a desire for a God who is in control, at least in control of other people and of situations that threaten us. The problem is that when God wants to change us, we get very balky. Deeper still, however, is the longing for a God who understands and shares our feeling of exile.
Perhaps God as an exiled king is not so strange after all. Perhaps God has been an exiled king in our world since the Garden of Eden. Perhaps God is always the one who shares our individual and collective exile.
1 Samuel 30:6 David was now in great danger because all his men were very bitter about losing their sons and daughters, and they began to talk of stoning him. But David found strength in the LORD his God. (New Living Translation)
I wasn’t feeling particularly strong this morning physically, emotionally, or spiritually. So, I thought of 1 Samuel 30:6.
A literal translation of that last sentence would be “And David strengthened himself in the LORD his God.” It was something he did to himself. (For Hebrew students, the verb translated “strengthened” of “found strength” is a hithpa`el.)
We are told in 1 Samuel some of the things that had taken place up to this point. David had been on the run from King Saul for years. He had finally taken refuge with the Philistines, but they did not altogether trust him. He had offered to go to war on the side of his Philistine host. We are not told whether the offer was sincere or not. As is often the case, David’s motives are opaque.
David was sent back to the town he and his marauders had been given by the Philistines, Ziklag. However, as they drew near, all they saw was a pile of burned rubble. The Amalekites had raided Ziklag, and taken all the possessions and family members of David and his men. David’s men seem to have been very loyal to him generally, but loyalty has its limits. They were so devastated that “they began to talk of stoning” David.
But then, we are told that “David strengthened himself in the LORD his God.” We are not told how he did that, just that he did it.
How do you strengthen yourself in the LORD? I don’t really know, but I do have some suspicions. Here is what works for me.
How did God answer Paul’s prayer? “Each time he said, ‘My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.’ So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me.”
Weakness, when acknowledged and submitted to God, is the strongest form of strength.
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