Making a Name
The book(s) of Samuel hold layers on layers of literary brilliance. Threads in the narrative tapestry that seem to be of little value—nearly throw away lines—come back around later, woven back in to take center stage in the story, or sometimes to underline a message with subtlety. It really is a master work.
One such subtle stroke gave itself to me as I was reading this week, a piece of the interplay between 2 Samuel 7 and 2 Samuel 8. Let me share a couple of sections of these two texts.
Then King David went in and sat before the LORD, and said, “Who am I, O Lord GOD, and what is my house, that you have brought me thus far? And yet this was a small thing in your eyes, O Lord GOD; you have spoken also of your servant’s house for a great while to come. May this be instruction for the people, O Lord GOD! And what more can David say to you? For you know your servant, O Lord GOD! Because of your promise, and according to your own heart, you have wrought all this greatness, so that your servant may know it. Therefore you are great, O LORD God; for there is no one like you, and there is no God besides you, according to all that we have heard with our ears. Who is like your people, like Israel? Is there another nation on earth whose God went to redeem it as a people, and to make a name for himself, doing great and awesome things for them, by driving out before his people nations and their gods? And you established your people Israel for yourself to be your people forever; and you, O LORD, became their God. And now, O LORD God, as for the word that you have spoken concerning your servant and concerning his house, confirm it forever; do as you have promised. Thus your name will be magnified forever in the saying, ‘The LORD of hosts is God over Israel’; and the house of your servant David will be established before you. For you, O LORD of hosts, the God of Israel, have made this revelation to your servant, saying, ‘I will build you a house’; therefore your servant has found courage to pray this prayer to you. And now, O Lord GOD, you are God, and your words are true, and you have promised this good thing to your servant; now therefore may it please you to bless the house of your servant, so that it may continue forever before you; for you, O Lord GOD, have spoken, and with your blessing shall the house of your servant be blessed forever.”
(2 Samuel 7:18–29 NRSV)
Here David recognizes the Lord's presence and help in bringing him to this point in the journey, where he has finally become King over all of Israel. And he notes that God has done these things to make God's own name great — as a way of demonstrating God's presence and power in Israel so that people would understand and honor God.
That is well and good, but then see what comes up in the next chapter, which tells how the now-king David leads Israel to defeat some of her persistent enemies among the surrounding peoples:
When King Toi of Hamath heard that David had defeated the whole army of Hadadezer, Toi sent his son Joram to King David, to greet him and to congratulate him because he had fought against Hadadezer and defeated him. Now Hadadezer had often been at war with Toi. Joram brought with him articles of silver, gold, and bronze; these also King David dedicated to the LORD, together with the silver and gold that he dedicated from all the nations he subdued, from Edom, Moab, the Ammonites, the Philistines, Amalek, and from the spoil of King Hadadezer son of Rehob of Zobah.
David won a name for himself. When he returned, he killed eighteen thousand Edomites in the Valley of Salt. He put garrisons in Edom; throughout all Edom he put garrisons, and all the Edomites became David’s servants. And the LORD gave victory to David wherever he went.
So David reigned over all Israel; and David administered justice and equity to all his people. Joab son of Zeruiah was over the army; Jehoshaphat son of Ahilud was recorder; Zadok son of Ahitub and Ahimelech son of Abiathar were priests; Seraiah was secretary; Benaiah son of Jehoiada was over the Cherethites and the Pelethites; and David’s sons were priests.
2 Samuel 8:9–18 NRSV
It's the opening sentence in 8:13 that strikes me here. I think it's not accidental that, even though this is still in the "upside" of David's trajectory, David is said to make a name for himself, rather than God. Indeed, David's preoccupation for his reputation and legacy becomes the major problem for the text moving forwards—but the seeds of his downfall are already planted here.
There's plenty else that is apparently good; David is defending the people from their enemies and is said to administer that important word pair "justice and righteousness". (מִשְׁפָּ֥ט וּצְדָקָ֖ה, here translated by the NRSV as "justice and equity.") David is being a good king here, by and large. And yet, I can't help but believe that in planting that phrase about making a name, and doing so right on the heels of a speech recognizing the need to magnify God's name, that the text is preparing us to understand what is at work as David falters in the coming chapters.
Sometimes the things that come to be our greatest obstacles and problems, are present even when things are going well—we just can't see them yet.
A Missional Reading of Nahum
An Angry Poet
Nahum is a vicious book.It begins with a quote from Exodus 34, which includes the divine self-revelation:
“The Lord, the Lord, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, keeping steadfast love for the thousandth generation, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, yet by no means clearing the guilty, but visiting the iniquity of the parents upon the children and the children’s children, to the third and the fourth generation.” (Exodus 34:6–7 NRSV)
In contrast to Jonah’s citation of this text, Nahum attends to the more wrathful bits1:
A jealous and avenging God is the Lord,the Lord is avenging and wrathful;the Lord takes vengeance on his adversariesand rages against his enemies.The Lord is slow to anger but great in power,and the Lord will by no means clear the guilty.(Nahum 1:2–3 NRSV)
The wrath of the Lord is focused in this text on Judah’s imperial enemy Assyria. the burning poetry flows from the trauma of the Assyrian destruction of the northern tribes and near destruction of Jerusalem. The prophet’s message is that though the Empire is still “at full strength and many”, their reign is coming to an end.2However, the good news Nahum envisions being proclaimed is the destruction of Nineveh—a destruction which is imagined in vivid detail.
Because of the countless debaucheries of the prostitute,gracefully alluring, mistress of sorcery,who enslaves nations through her debaucheries,and peoples through her sorcery,I am against you, says the Lord of hosts,and will lift up your skirts over your face;and I will let nations look on your nakednessand kingdoms on your shame.I will throw filth at youand treat you with contempt,and make you a spectacle.(Nahum 3:4–6 NRSV)
Nahum is a challenging book for missional readers, providing no easy forgiveness or reconciliation for Assyria, no word of hope for the poet’s enemy. It is revenge poetry, much like Obadiah, written in solidarity with a victimized people.One way of reading it is to enter into that solidarity. Reading Nahum alongside those who have received trauma and exploitation prepares us to be allies of the oppressed in our own age.
When Bad News is Good News
Readers might be surprised to read the familiar text of Nahum 1:15 in its context. In Romans 10:15, Paul alludes to this text, which is a parallel of sorts to Isaiah 52:7. Nahum’s version reads:
Look! On the mountains the feet of onewho brings good tidings,who proclaims peace!
However, here there is no real word of a full, Messianic peace. The only peace Nahum can envision comes from the impending destruction of Assyria. The utter flattening of this imperial power is Good news for her victims.Let’s not scoff at this vengeful spirit too quickly—it needs to be heard. The corrupted, devastating power of Assyria had to be stopped, and the word of Nineveh’s collapse could only be received as good news by those victims who had struggled under her power and longed for relief. To read this text in solidarity with the victimized means celebrating the end of terror. Is there any other way to enter into communion with those who have been broken by others than to stand with them as they ask for justice?
Is There Any Room For Mercy Towards Assyria?
But what about the other side? Is there any place for solidarity with Nineveh? Nahum (justifiably) cannot imagine it. God will have a hard time lining up mourners at the funeral:
Then all who see you will shrink from you and say,“Nineveh is devastated; who will bemoan her?”Where shall I seek comforters for you?(Nahum 3:7 NRSV)
Nobody sheds a tear for the oppressor. Indeed, Nahum recognizes that Assyria’s cruel reach has been universal—and celebration over her downfall will surely be so as well.
All who hear the news about you clap their hands over you.For who has ever escaped your endless cruelty?(Nahum 3:18–19 NRSV)
Only after we have read this text in solidarity with the victims, wept for them and stood with them while they have we lashed out can we understand what it means to reach toward the oppressor. It’s hard to find a leverage point for mercy, a place where we can begin to see that they have been broken, too. Though they have exercised agency in the process, they have also been acting out a role, been victims of the corrupted structures of the world, the game laid out for them. Did they truly understand their own evil? What forces were they swept up in?Eventually we might find a way to ask, “Is there any hope for their redemption?” We may struggle towards an imagination of what repentance might look like for them. The struggle is a good sign, an indication that we are reading Nahum on its own terms. But ultimately, Nahum needs a conversation partner, and the Minor Prophets oblige us, bringing Jonah to the table.3Nahum’s Conversation Partner: JonahAlthough Jonah is the more familiar book, it makes sense to me to read NAhum first, absorbing its pathos before turning to Jonah. The dissonance of Jonah emerges more clearly when we read Nahum, absorbing the trauma and finding solidarity with the victims. Then, all of a sudden, Jonah doesn’t seem like simply a foolish, begrudging simpleton. His response, even if comically tragic, makes sense coming from the perspective of Nahum. The big differences between the prophet Nahum and Jonah?
- Nahum received a word for Judah, Jonah was sent to Nineveh.
- Jonah gets eaten by a fish and vomited.
The perspective of the two prophets towards Nineveh are likely in alignment with each other. Jonah shouts Amen all through Nahum’s sermon, and Nahum screams in protest when God sends Jonah to the Assyrians.On the other hand, the books Nahum and Jonah are pointed in different directions. Jonah is an astonishing, dumbfounding, stupefying answer to Nahum’s rhetorical question, “Nineveh is devastated; who will bemoan her?”. The whole book points towards a final question: “And should I not be concerned about Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand persons who do not know their right hand from their left, and also many animals?”Who mourns over Nineveh’s destruction? God does.Is Judah’s pain real? Yes.Does Nineveh need to be stopped? Yes.Is retribution in order? Yes.Does God care? Yes.God cares for the Jew and the Assyrian.
Reading Like an Assyrian
One last thing. Nahum expresses Judah’s anguish over Nineveh’s oppression and to provide hope for relief from that oppression. As readers from afar, I think that reading in solidarity with the oppressed Jews is the primary mode of reading the text, we should also consider another perspective: reading as Assyrians. It’s worth considering whether our position is most naturally that of the underdogs in the story. We might, rather, be the empowered empire that inflicts suffering on others and exploits them for our own ends. There are certainly those in the world that see the tribes that I belong to (American, White, Christian) in that light. This angle too can be over simplified, but it’s worth considering.It may be that, as I learn to read in solidarity with the oppressed who cry out for justice, I have to own my role in the empire. It may be that such a reading provokes me to really see my own complicity with violence and runaway power, and calls me to repent.The missional way stretches towards justice in the whole world, longing with God for all of creation to flourish, with each human freely obeying God, receiving God’s grace and mercy. We long for each person and every nation to experience the abundance of creation, God’s love, and the community of loving, just humanity. Following such a way demands that I continually repent, gaining new self-understanding and turning again to follow God.When I read with the possibility that I am more likely Potiphar than Joseph, Pharaoh than Moses, Nebuchadnezzar than Daniel, it opens up my heart to repent of corruption and the exploitation of the less powerful. Nahum stands in that space, and I can either cry out with him, or I can hear the prophet call out against me from a distance, and seek change. It may be that a different moments of my life, I need to do both.
- The first part of that language also points us towards the decalogue itself. The second command reads: “You shall not make for yourself an idol, whether in the form of anything that is in heaven above, or that is on the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for I the Lord your God am a jealous God, punishing children for the iniquity of parents, to the third and the fourth generation of those who reject me, but showing steadfast love to the thousandth generation of those who love me and keep my commandments.” (Exodus 20:4–6 NRSV) ↩
- Nahum 1:12 ↩
- This is a great example of the kinds of conversations bouncing between the prophets. If we read them like something of a symposium, rich connections emerge. Obadiah, and Habakkuk, come to mind as equally rich conversation partners for Nahum. ↩
Pride and Fall
The Setup
For the Jews to whom Daniel was written, the Exile was the grief of griefs. Babylon swept in to Judah like a flood, drowning any sense of their ability to defend themselves and shattering any illusion of safety that Judah clung to. Nebuchadnezzar’s troops dismantled the city, robbed the temple, and stole every last ounce of pride that they could find. What they left behind was a deeply broken people.The pain of the moment was so severe that it created generational trauma, passed down from parent to child, and eventually to grandchildren. The devastating impact reverberated through decades, and created a fundamental challenge to their self-understanding and their identity as God’s people.As is often the case, such pain carried with it terrible bitterness—much of it deserved—towards those who had been the agents of death and chaos. The babylonians were the villains of the story, and Nebuchadnezzar was their king.The book of Daniel is written with the backdrop of all that pain. All of the suffering which didn’t need to be spelled out is captured by the short prologue to the book, which simply says :
“In the third year of the reign of King Jehoiakim of Judah, King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon came to Jerusalem and besieged it. The Lord let King Jehoiakim of Judah fall into his power, as well as some of the vessels of the house of God. These he brought to the land of Shinar, and placed the vessels in the treasury of his gods.” (Daniel 1:1–2 NRSV)
Daniel then begins by with a story about what it means to survive in such an empire without losing your head or your heart, a story of savvy subversion in which Daniel gets his foot in the door as the interpreter of the visions the pagan king has but cannot understand, and a tale about what it means to worship God alone, even when threatened by a king who worships himself.
The Story
Whether in a courthouse scene or in the life of faith, it is always dramatic when an odd character all of a sudden emerges to give incredible testimony. In Daniel 4, the crazy twist is that the person giving the testimony of the greatness of Israel’s God is Israel’s greatest Enemy!The story opens with Nebuchadnezzar receiving a terrifying dream, and desperately searching for its meaning. He recounts the dream to Daniel, hoping he will interpret it:
“Upon my bed this is what I saw;there was a tree at the center of the earth,and its height was great.The tree grew great and strong,its top reached to heaven,and it was visible to the ends of the whole earth.Its foliage was beautiful, its fruit abundant,and it provided food for all.The animals of the field found shade under it,the birds of the air nested in its branches,and from it all living beings were fed.”1
Note that the image here is not only of the emperor’s power, but of the capacity of that power to bring the flourishing of life. Of course we know that imperial power also holds a capacity for great harm, and such was the experience of the Jews at the hands of the Babylonians.At any rate, the dream moves on, and regardless of how the emperor was going to use his power, he finds that it is to be taken from him, as a watcher comes and proclaims: “Cut down the tree and chop off its branches, strip off its foliage and scatter its fruit…”2 The poetic proclamation of judgment goes on to tell of the dehumanization of Nebuchadnezzar, who is going to revert to an animal state for a while.3 Far from being purposeless suffering, though, this is all with a particular intent: that “all who live” would know the sovereignty of God, and that God gives power “to whom he will”, and gives it to even the lowliest of human beings.”Daniel, understanding the dream, reacts surprisingly: he was “severely distressed for a while”, and “his thoughts terrified him”. The shocking truth is that this story evokes empathy for Nebuchadnezzar. While one would expect an exiled Jew to be elated that the oppressor would be humiliated, in this story the news distresses Daniel—and the story is designed to evoke that same empathy in the reader as well.
The Surprise
However, the story isn’t done messing with its readers yet—and the biggest surprise is how it concludes. after his dehumanization, the narrative actually takes on Nebuchadnezzar’s voice.
When that period was over, I, Nebuchadnezzar, lifted my eyes to heaven, and my reason returned to me. I blessed the Most High, and praised and honored the one who lives forever.For his sovereignty is an everlasting sovereignty,and his kingdom endures from generation to generation.All the inhabitants of the earth are accounted as nothing,and he does what he wills with the host of heavenand the inhabitants of the earth.There is no one who can stay his handor say to him, “What are you doing?”4
Nebuchadnezzar, the arrogant oppressor of God’s people, comes to repent and acknowledge God’s sovereignty. The shocking message: Even Nebuchadnezzar can change.The Old Testament is full of the enemies of God’s people, but the most powerfully oppressive empires were Egypt, Assyria, and Babylon5. Get this: the Hebrew Bible contains a story where each of them comes to their senses and acknowledges the rule of Israel’s God. In each, God uses an unlikely and humiliated spokesperson—Moses, Jonah, and Daniel—to call the king to acknowledge God.In this story, the great villain of the history of Israel—Nebuchadnezzar—ends up worshipping God!And you think your neighbor is beyond redemption?Perhaps you’ve thought that you are?
- Daniel 4:10-12, NRSV ↩
- Daniel 4:14, NRSV ↩
- It’s interesting to read this story in conversation with the Genesis account fo the creation of humanity—perhaps Nebuchadnezzar represents not just imperial power, but humanity in their calling to have dominion on the earth for the sake of creation’s flourishing. But that’s a blog for another day. ↩
- Daniel 4:34–35, NRSV. ↩
- The scriptures treat Persia with discretion and the resistance to Persian imperial power is written much more subtly into the text than the outright laments over the destruction wrought be the other three. ↩
Psalm 2 and Power
Now therefore, O kings, be wise;Be warned, O rulers of the earth.Serve the LORD with fear,with trembling kiss his feet,Or he will be angry, and you will perish in the way,for his wrath is quickly kindled.Happy are all who take refuge in him.
Psalm 2 is one of the royal psalms (2, 18, 20, 21, 45, 72, 89, 93, 110, 132, 144) and as such celebrates the partnership between God and the Davidic king. The king becomes an instrument of God's rule over the earth, not unlike the prototypical humans of Genesis 1, and is given the task of enforcing God's will among the nations, bending the rebellious forces to submission before the Lord. All of this is a reflection of the divine sanctioning of the king's power.And yet, being good poetry, the Psalms also carries a subversive note as well. It calls out to the kings of the other nations to "be warned" and to "be wise", calling them to serve the Lord in the realization of their subordination to God's own power.Indeed, this call, though posed to the nations, is also before the king who sits in Jerusalem as well. God's own king is only blessed (or "happy"), when he has taken refuge in the Lord. The form of the beatitude ("Blessed is the man who...") helps pair the Psalm with the one before it, and Psalm 1 marks out the road that leads to blessing as sharply forked between those who take the path of the "wicked" and those whose attention is given to God's instruction. the point of all this is that even the king of Judah, who has received power from God in partnership with God, must use that power in accordance with God's own wisdom. Any power that fails to do this is doomed to "perish" as both of these first two psalms attest (Psalm 1:6, 2:11).The second psalm, then, does indeed affirm the power of the king, but places that power in a theological context, one which will take on particular ethical flavors in others Psalms as it becomes clear what God expects the king in Jerusalem to do—preserve justice and righteousness. It is this sort of context that enriches the Psalm's messianic flavor—the Psalm was read by the early church as containing the seed idea of the messiah as a Son of God who will become the true king. We should not miss though, that it also contains a word about what kind of king that messiah would be—one who is not only empowered by God, but who is attentive to God's way as well.Those who see their lives as joined to such a messiah, receive here not just an affirmation, but a call to faithfulness as people following God's way in the world.
Joseph and Jacob's Story
A few years ago we were getting ready to have VBS and we asked Dr. John Fortner to come and help prep our adults with a theological understanding of the story we were going to work on—the Joseph narrative. One of the best insights for me that came out of that story was how the Joseph story really fits into the larger narrative of the patriarchs, and particularly into the story of Jacob.For most of Jacob's life, he is an absolute control freak, scheming for control over virtually everyone in his life. He lies cheats and steals his way to the top. Even though God appears to him, and promises to be with him, he seems to believe that life would be much better if he (Jacob) were in control, and he consistently resists God's initiative.Now, I think most people would see and agree with that. Unfortunately, we tend to atomize the text—we separate out the stories of the Bible into individual tales, and lose the intergenerational narrative that Genesis (and the rest of scripture) is telling. When we do that we lose some insights—for instance, the significance of the Joseph saga.The Joseph saga is not just about how things worked out for Joseph. It's about how things worked out for Jacob. It's about how things worked out for God's people. See, the Joseph story is really just a long stretch within the story of Jacob—it's the definitive blow to Jacob's mentality that he is in charge. He can't manipulate God. He can't micromanage the promise of God. It seems like he's in control until Joseph (he thinks) dies. That concept completely rocks Jacob's world, and since he's not in control, he basically gives up on life and waits to die. He seems to think God has abandoned him.However, after he learns Joseph is alive, Jacob has another theophany, where God appears to him, reassures him that he is still with him, after all this time. Jacob turns loose of all the control, and it seems to me like he actually reinterprets his life through that insight. Now he can (for the first time!) tell Joseph about the promise of God. (Joseph will later tell the rest of the brothers.) Now he can refer to God as the one who "has been my shepherd all my life to this day." Jacob can finally affirm the promise of God and the continual working of God, even in light of his own impending death! Reading Genesis 48 with this insight has been a powerful adjustment to the way I've read the Joseph saga before, and indeed the way I see my own life.Think about the deeper lesson here about reading the scriptures: Anytime we read a text, we need to remember to pull back and see it from a perspective of the broader story of the mission of God. Each story is unique and important on its own terms, but becomes even more incredible when viewed in terms of a longer context. Reading a text like the Joseph saga with a missional perspective allows us to pick up different layers of what's happening in the moment of the text as well as how that text contributes to (or complicates) the larger story of God and the world.It's not just Joseph's story. It's not even Jacob's story. It certainly isn't simply my story. These are all moments in God's story.[bctt tweet="It's not just Joseph's story. It's not even Jacob's story. It isn't my story. These are moments in God's story." via="no"]
Overlooking the Plain of Sodom—Advocates of Righteousness and Justice
The Bible's story hinges on what God wants to do and what God can do with Abraham's descendants—and neither is particularly clear in the early chapters of the saga. God and Abraham seem to both be feeling their way through the new relationship, and I'm beginning to take more seriously the language of Abraham as God's friend—it's kind of easy to read the story almost like Abram and God are pals, traveling around together just for the sake of it.There are of course moments when something else shines through all of the odd episodes of Abraham's story. The narrative reaches outside of itself and shows itself to be more than a story about one man's weird relationship with God. In these moments, the Abraham saga becomes a critical piece in the story of God and Creation. One such moment takes place in Genesis 18.Here is a well-worn story of Abraham bargaining with God, negotiating on behalf of Sodom and Gomorrah, or at least on behalf of his kin who live there. I won't retrace the story here, because I want to focus in on one particular facet of the episode—the terms of the negotiation. We'll pick up with God's internal monologue (dialogue?) regarding whether or not he'll let Abraham in on what's about to happen:
The Lord said, “Shall I hide from Abraham what I am about to do, 18 seeing that Abraham shall become a great and mighty nation, and all the nations of the earth shall be blessed in him? 19 No, for I have chosen him, that he may charge his children and his household after him to keep the way of the Lord by doing righteousness and justice; so that the Lord may bring about for Abraham what he has promised him.”
Here God opens up, just a smidge, about the long-term plan for Abraham and his descendants. They are to become a great nation which will bless the world, (just as God promised Abram in Genesis 12. But also, catch the important added note here: What kind of nation will they be? What does God want to become the characteristic mark of Abraham's children? They are to be a people who keep the way of the Lord by "doing righteousness and justice".This is a pair of Hebrew words, Tsedakah and Mishpat, (צְדָקָה וּמִשְׁפָּט ), which become particularly important for the prophets and which are loaded with meaning, most of which I'll leave you to unpack on your own (big hint: as a pair, they almost always connote social justice concerns for the poor). This little aside by God is the first time we really meet them in the Bible, and that would be remarkable enough in its own right, except note further how the words actually function in the story that follows. While God intends for Abraham to teach his children about Righteousness and Justice, they actually become the critical words that Abraham leverages to bargain with God:
23 Then Abraham came near and said, “Will you indeed sweep away the righteous with the wicked? 24 Suppose there are fifty righteous within the city; will you then sweep away the place and not forgive it for the fifty righteous who are in it? 25 Far be it from you to do such a thing, to slay the righteous with the wicked, so that the righteous fare as the wicked! Far be that from you! Shall not the Judge of all the earth do what is just?”
Abraham is even more shrewd than we give him credit for: he effectively uses God's own words and intentions against God, holding God to a standard. Abraham takes his vocation as an advocate of righteousness and justice so seriously that even God has to own up. In this story, Abraham becomes a force for Righteousness and Justice, even with God. The implications of this are tremendous, even if the story won't do all the work to unpack it for us. What might it mean for us to enter into such advocacy? What might it mean as people who act and pray, people who have become children of Abraham?The end result of the story is the sad destruction of the two cities, and while the narrative certainly paints this as justified, even within Abraham's bargain, there is a final haunting image in the Genesis 19 I'd like to point towards:
24 Then the Lord rained on Sodom and Gomorrah sulfur and fire from the Lord out of heaven; 25 and he overthrew those cities, and all the Plain, and all the inhabitants of the cities, and what grew on the ground.26 But Lot’s wife, behind him, looked back, and she became a pillar of salt. 27 Abraham went early in the morning to the place where he had stood before the Lord; 28 and he looked down toward Sodom and Gomorrah and toward all the land of the Plain and saw the smoke of the land going up like the smoke of a furnace. 29 So it was that, when God destroyed the cities of the Plain, God remembered Abraham, and sent Lot out of the midst of the overthrow, when he overthrew the cities in which Lot had settled.
That image of Abraham, alone, looking down on the burning wasteland is a poignant image, one that stands in my mind as both mourning the brokenness and wickedness of creation, as well as pointing towards the unfinished business that God and Abraham have with each other. If God's intent is to bless the world through Abraham's descendants, and we are willing to accept that mantle ourselves, then the end of this story calls us to look around us, smell the sulfur, and dive into the work left to do.
The Broken Earth in Genesis 1-6
Tonight, in my class on the Torah, we wrapped up by observing the tight connection between the moral responsibility of humanity, the human descent into wickedness, and the effect on the earth itself in chapters 3-6. Hearing the church's common conversations, you could get the impression that the problem with the "fall" is simply the rift human sin and pride creates between people and God. In reality though, the consequences of humanity's fall is multifaceted. For instance, as demonstrated in the Cain and Abel story (and the Lamech one that follows), relationships between humans break down due to sin and violence, and we may easily observe the conflict that arises between the sexes on the heels of the tragic episode in the garden.One of the too often ignored facets of the human fall is the curse that it brings on the earth itself. Although God's initial directives to humanity were to "Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it", as the story plays out, it's as if the earth itself suffers the sin of humanity in the early chapters of Genesis. Read chapters 3-6 with a ready eye, and you'll see the motif show up repeatedly. It's in the original garden fallout scene, and the language that contains the motif in the Cain and Abel saga is some of the richest in the Old Testament:
8 Cain said to his brother Abel, “Let us go out to the field.”[b] And when they were in the field, Cain rose up against his brother Abel, and killed him. 9 Then the Lord said to Cain, “Where is your brother Abel?” He said, “I do not know; am I my brother’s keeper?” 10 And the Lord said, “What have you done? Listen; your brother’s blood is crying out to me from the ground!11 And now you are cursed from the ground, which has opened its mouth to receive your brother’s blood from your hand. 12 When you till the ground, it will no longer yield to you its strength; you will be a fugitive and a wanderer on the earth.” 13 Cain said to the Lord, “My punishment is greater than I can bear! 14 Today you have driven me away from the soil, and I shall be hidden from your face; I shall be a fugitive and a wanderer on the earth, and anyone who meets me may kill me.” 15 Then the Lord said to him, “Not so![c] Whoever kills Cain will suffer a sevenfold vengeance.” And the Lord put a mark on Cain, so that no one who came upon him would kill him. 16 Then Cain went away from the presence of the Lord, and settled in the land of Nod,[d] east of Eden. (Gen 4:8-16, NRSV)
See how the motif functions here? It begins simply enough, with "the field" being the site for the murder. But as the story develops, the ground or soil is almost a character in the story, bearing testimony against Cain, even cursing Cain. Cain's punishment involves being hidden from the face of God, and social exclusion as well, but note that this layer of being driven away from the soil itself seems to be Cain's most agonizing consequence.The motif continues to develop in the early chapters of Genesis, perhaps culminating in the flood saga. In the build up to the Flood story, Noah is introduced by a reference to the curse upon the land: "[Lamech] named him Noah, saying, “Out of the ground that the Lord has cursed this one shall bring us relief from our work and from the toil of our hands.”(Gen 5:29, NRSV) In the next chapter, God's actions in the Flood are repeatedly attributed to God's observation of how the wickedness and violence of humanity has corrupted the earth:
11 Now the earth was corrupt in God’s sight, and the earth was filled with violence. 12 And God saw that the earth was corrupt; for all flesh had corrupted its ways upon the earth. 13 And God said to Noah, “I have determined to make an end of all flesh, for the earth is filled with violence because of them; now I am going to destroy them along with the earth. (Gen 6:11-13, NRSV)
On the other side of the Flood, the focus shifts a bit, returning to the original command to "Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth...". God returns to the project of filling the earth with rich human life, scattering humanity across the world. This eventually leads to the strategy of blessing the scattered peoples of the world through the people of Abraham, but that's a subject for another day. For today, it is enough to not how tightly God's purposes for the earth were connected with God's purposes for humanity. Perhaps this shouldn't be that surprising, unless we have forgotten that God indeed made the man (hebrew 'Adam') from the dust of the ground (hebrew 'Adamah'), and that we are connected to the earth through our work until the moment that we are returned to the ground. "By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread until you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken; you are dust, and to dust you shall return." (Gen 3:19, NRSV). given this, how could our sin result in anything but estrangement from the very earth which is our perpetual context?
Egypt in Hosea
One of the interesting features of Hosea is the role(s) that Egypt plays in the text. The word "Egypt" shows up 13 times in Hosea (2.02 occurrences per 1000 words). That's the highest concentration of occurrences of any book in the whole Bible outside of Exodus (3.45/1000 words), unless we divide Isaiah into the customary first and second parts. In that case, although my old version of accordance won't tell me, I imagine First Isaiah's concentration would be higher—31 of Isaiah's 34 references to Egypt are in chapters 1-39. The similarity is no surprise, of course, because the historical situation of Isaiah 1-39 is contemporary to Hosea.Hosea is steeped in the exodus tradition, so that he sees the departure from Egypt and the time in the wilderness as formative for Israel's special relationship with God. But Hosea is also writing during a time when Egypt is appealing as an ally against the Assyrians. So he writes about Israel being called out of Egypt (Hosea 11:1) by YHWH, and also about their "return" to Egypt. Egypt is a world power that offers an alternative security to that offered by YHWH, and Hosea sees reliance on any such power as a road to ruin—indeed, a return to slavery. That means that Hosea is able to play off the exodus tradition, suggesting that Israel's flirtation with other powers will reverse the situation of the Exodus. This is just another layer of the whole reversal position of Hosea—their current actions threaten a reversal of the entire covenant, though the Lord will eventually again reverse this judgment and restore them again. Hosea thus imagines a new exodus, this time from Egypt and Assyria (Hosea 11:11).This is an interesting take on a theme present within many of the biblical narratives—Israel's morbid obsession with forms of power that threaten and oppress them. (Egypt, Assyria, monarchy) Even post-exodus, Egypt has a strange allure. What once enslaved Israel calls her back, promising her relief from her current troubles.This is, of course, a recurring theme not just with Israel, but humanity. Alcoholics, the greedy, the gluttonous, addicts of all flavors and the rest of us all have our Egypts, and when we find ourselves under pressure, they can sing a sweet, sweet song. Ultimately it is a song of death.
Hosea—A Bibliography for Study and Preaching
While I've been preparing for the Hosea series of sermons (and blog posts!) I have had the wonderful chance to work through a few books, and I thought I should share a few I've found helpful. Looking for a commentary on any given text can be tough, because there is simply so much material available. I haven't read all of the following cover to cover, but have used each at some point in my preparations on Hosea over the course of the last few months.
The commentary by Andrew Dearman (2010) is perhaps the most well rounded and up to date volume that I worked with as I prepared to preach from the book. Dearman takes form critical matters seriously without swimming in them too much, and the same is generally true for his treatment of ancient Israelite religious matters. This commentary has a great balance, and doesn't feel too heavy for the average user, but is also well-informed and dialogues with other treatments of the book well. There is also a kindle version available, which is the only of the commentaries listed here for which that is true. The kindle version doesn't include (at this point) page numbers, which is a bit annoying, particularly if you want to cite the book. Nonetheless, I think this is a great buy, and if I was starting over I think I'd pick this up first.
Gale Yee's commentary on Hosea in the twelfth volume of the New Interpreter's Bible (1996) challenged me in some very helpful ways. While being extremely readable, Yee's commentary provoked me to thinking through something of a feminist perspective of Hosea, particularly helping me see a new perspective on some of the rhetoric about Yahweh as husband. While I don't know that the commentary would be sufficient by itself, it would make a fantastic second voice for a full conversation about Hosea. This volume includes commentary on each of the Minor prophets, as well as Daniel, from good solid scholars, and at $40 on amazon might be the best deal dollar for dollar, particularly in you're going to work on the other minor prophets as well. As a side note, I think this whole set of commentaries has really been done well. The lineup of contributors is impressive, and the format is excellent. 
Douglas Stuart's commentary on Hosea (1987) is in a volume that also includes commentary on Joel, Amos, Obadiah, and Jonah. Hosea gets the lion's share of the substantial book, though, and Stuart is very thorough in his treatment of Hosea. Writing from a very fixed perspective, Stuart heavily emphasizes that Hosea is a reformer, seeking to call the people back to the covenant made years ago as represented by the book of Deuteronomy. I appreciate Stuart's perspective, but at several points felt as though he was a bit overconfident in his argumentation of the point—perhaps even condescending, although he certainly isn't the only scholar to be guilty of such. On balance, I think the commentary is a nice contribution, and I found it helpful, although a little annoying. That in itself is not a serious criticism, because if you aren't willing to learn from annoying sources occasionally, you just aren't going to learn.
The mammoth commentary on Hosea by Anderson and Freedman (1980) in the Anchor Bible Series could be quite helpful to some, but this is a heavy (literally and metaphorically) book with a good bit of technical discussion in it. I think the authors offer some great analysis and fresh insight, but this book is just simply going to be too much for most readers of the text. If I was doing a paper on a specific text, I'd definitely check it, and on particularly difficult passages for preaching there is some very helpful work here. However, at 600 plus pages, I simply can't imagine reading through this whole work. If you can, more power to you.
I only briefly looked at James Limburg's commentary on Hosea (1988) in the Interpretation series. While I typically have enjoyed commentaries in that series, and have written elsewhere of my appreciation of Limburg's work on Ecclesiastes, I was really quite disappointed with this volume. It was too stiff, and I just didn't get the same vibe of creativity here as I did with his ecclesiastes work. Alas.
Hosea and Gomer—Background of Hosea 3:1
Perhaps because they differ greatly from the rest of the book, the sections of Hosea which tell of his personal family life seem to be better known than the poetic passages. The relevant texts are Hosea 1 (particularly Hosea 1:2-3), and Hosea 3.When we look at those texts, we're immediately presented with the question of whether the two texts refer to the same woman. We are given a name in the first chapter, but not in the third, and it is easily conceivable the narratives tell of two different women. After all, it seems that God's command to Hosea in 3:1 initiates a new action on the part of Hosea. The use of "again" (עןד) in 3:1 seems most naturally to modify "The Lord spoke to me" (so NRSV), although it could conceivably modify "go" (ESV), or even "love" (NIV—this reading seems unlikely to me, and indeed the translation of the whole verse in the NIV seems to sidestep the legitimate ambiguity.) I read the first part of the verse as saying, "The Lord said to me again, 'Go, love a woman who has a lover and commits adultery...'"Although that reading may suggest that Hosea is being told to love a completely new woman, I think that on the whole the analogy depends on this being the same woman from chapter one. Just as the Lord is loving Israel despite her infidelity, I think Hosea is being told to love his wife even though she has been unfaithful to him. the analogy doesn't make sense if Hosea is starting a new relationship—that certainly isn't what God is proclaiming he is going to do! So we're on perhaps difficult methodological ground here. Although the intent of the passage was to make clear the Lord's action by way of Hosea's action, for us we almost need to reverse engineer the metaphor and interpret the reality of Hosea's action by what it is said to have represented in the Lord's actions. Thus, I felt comfortable letting my sermon on Hosea and Gomer grow out of this verse, because on the whole I think the data bests suggests that Gomer, the daughter of Diblaim mentioned in chapter 1, is the same person being referred to here in Chapter 3.