enough, or excessive?

How much is enough? When Nelson Rockefeller, one of the richest men in America at the time, was asked how much money was enough, he supposedly answered, “Just a little bit more.”

As a young man, this question was only academic. I barely had enough to pay bills, and then have children, and then pay tuition. But these days I’ve been blessed with more money than I really need to get by. So what’s the right thing to do with it?

The problem with focusing your wealth on yourself is pretty soon you start spending it in ways that look ridiculous to ordinary people. This morning I read about the greatness of Solomon, and this passage from 2 Chronicles 9:17-19 made me cringe: “Then the king made a great throne covered with ivory and overlaid with pure gold. The throne had six steps, and a footstool of gold was attached to it. On both sides of the seat were armrests, with a lion standing beside each of them. Twelve lions stood on the six steps, one at either end of each step. Nothing like it had ever been made for any other kingdom.”

Solomon taxed the people with a heavy hand, and exacted tribute from a bunch of other countries. And one of the things he used that money for was the fanciest throne a king had ever had.

You’ve probably heard the saying that God doesn’t give us more so we can increase our standard of living, but our standard of giving. That’s why the concept of enough is critical for me. How much house is enough? We just built a 1,400 square foot home and sometimes I think it’s more than we need. How much car? I drive a little 11-year-old pick-up, but I live less than a mile from work. Should I be driving at all? 

How about groceries? Vacations? Clothes - does any man really need 20 hats? Or, my personal downfall, technology? Dawn is very satisfied with her phone, even though there are three generations of “better” phones out there. I have a new phone and am getting itchy because there’s a newer model coming out.

What’s the right amount to spend on myself? I believe God blesses some people with the ability to earn money because ministry needs to be funded. Am I moving into that category?

My money goes where my heart is. It shames me that I have so many ivory thrones in my life.

Do the work

Recently I had reason to do a reset on life, and to try to better organize all the work I have to get done. I was actually impressed and kind of intimidated at the number and scope of important projects I have going. Some are personal, some are professional. A few are self-assigned. But I’m trying to do some pretty big things.

My first reaction was to shrink away. I’m not that great. I’m not that talented. I’m not sure I want to work that hard. 

Then I read David’s advice to Solomon as he passed along one of the biggest projects Solomon would do in his life, an assignment from God. Solomon was to build God’s temple. David said this:  "Be strong and courageous, and do the work. Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the Lord God, my God, is with you. He will not fail you or forsake you until all the work for the service of the temple of the Lord is finished.” 1 Chronicles 28:20.

Those words are amazingly reassuring. They tell me that, so long as I’m working for God, no job is too big or too hard or will take too long. Even me, with my self-centeredness and intermittent laziness, can do great things.

There’s a saying about  how to eat an elephant: one bite at a time. Work is that way. If I recognize that God sustains me, I can get a lot done one day at a time, one task at a time. 

Trust and obey, as the song says. Lord, help me do that. 

God's plans

King David wanted to build a temple for God, but God said no. David’s bloody hands weren’t the right ones for that job, so God gave it to Solomon. 

But David was still the driver behind the project. And God not only approved, he used David for that purpose. Solomon would build a magnificent temple, but he would do it using plans that came from God, through David.

“Then David gave his son Solomon the plans for the portico of the temple, its buildings, its storerooms, its upper parts, its inner rooms and the place of atonement. He gave him the plans of all that the Spirit had put in his mind for the courts of the temple of the Lord and all the surrounding rooms, for the treasuries of the temple of God and for the treasuries for the dedicated things. . . . ’All this,’ David said, ‘I have in writing as a result of the Lord 's hand on me, and he enabled me to understand all the details of the plan.’" 1 Chronicles 28:11-12, 19.

It strikes me that, when something is important, God has very specific plans. He gives a lot of detailed direction, for example, about my relationship to him, as well as my relationship with fellow believers. He has a different set of plans for my relationships with non-believers. He tells me a lot about how I’m supposed to care for the earth yet use its resources. He gives a lot of detail about blessings and how I’m supposed to use them.

Equally detailed are his plans for emergencies and disasters. His first and most-often repeated instruction, “Fear not,” is critical and yet I often forget it.

This morning, and every day, I can look at the temple that is my body and the act of worship that is my life and echo the words of David: “I have this all in writing as a result of the Lord’s hand, and he enables me to understand all the details of his plan.” 

I feel convicted not just to understand the plan, but to pass it to my children, just as David did. And as I try to live out the plan, my prayer is they will too.

prophesying

David’s wars are over. He’s nation-building now, putting in place all the administrative and governance pieces the country needs. And he does one thing I’m having trouble understanding.

1 Chronicles 25:1 says, “David, together with the commanders of the army, set apart some of the sons of Asaph, Heman and Jeduthun for the ministry of prophesying, accompanied by harps, lyres and cymbals.”

I kind of get prophesying as a ministry, but I thought God called prophets. I didn’t know a king could name them, and sent their budget, and define their work.

And then, what do the commanders of the army have to do with it? This isn’t a military government, so I wouldn’t expect them to stray very far from their professional focus. Is it because they saw prophesy as critical to success in battle?

Finally, why the musical accompaniment? Sung prophesy? How does that work?

Obviously my understanding of prophesy isn’t correct. It makes me wonder if there isn’t more to church music than I think. It makes me wonder if some of the people who write that music are prophets. Maybe part of their gift is the ability to make us see what God is doing and will do.

It seems likely that one thing we’re told in this verse is that we need to hear God’s voice if we’re to effectively govern, make war, and worship. It follows that we need that same guidance to lead families, manage households and participate in church life.

We need prophets, those people who can legitimately proclaim, “Thus saith the Lord!” Who are they? Probably pastors, but who else? I want to start paying more attention to what they say.

preparations

King David was a much better man than I am.

That’s not surprising - he was, after all, known as the man after God’s own heart. I don’t feel like I fit that description very often.

But David had a dream. David wanted to build God a temple. When God said no, it would have been natural to wash his hands of it all. I’d have said, “Fine. You can see to your own temple in your own time.”

“David said, ‘My son Solomon is young and inexperienced, and the house to be built for the Lord should be of great magnificence and fame and splendor in the sight of all the nations. Therefore I will make preparations for it.’ So David made extensive preparations before his death.”) 1Ch 22:5 

David put a lot of effort into preparing for a future he would never see. This work didn’t benefit David at all; he did it out of love for God. Much as he loved his son, he knew on his own Solomon was unlikely to get it right. So he made sure God’s temple would be built well.

I’m a planner. I’m working on retirement. I know what I want life to look like in five years, and use that to define this year. But those things benefit me. Am I as diligent about planting seeds that will take decades to grow? Do I care as much about the future of other people as I do myself?

I think I need to focus more effort on listening to what God wants the future of his kingdom to be. Planning for my own benefit is important, but essentially selfish. I should be as concerned that God be glorified, hungry children are fed, the truth is told, justice is served, the weak are protected. I’m not a planner in any of those areas, and as a result I don’t do much either.

It’s that old question, whose kingdom am I building. The answer shames me.

no menial jobs

There were no menial jobs in God’s tabernacle. 

This morning in 1 Chronicles 9:30-31, I read,” But some of the priests took care of mixing the spices. A Levite named Mattithiah, the firstborn son of Shallum the Korahite, was entrusted with the responsibility for baking the offering bread.” Other Levites cleaned and counted utensils, or guarded doors and gates. Menial jobs, done in service to those who came to worship.

Note the words, though. Mattihiah was “entrusted with the responsibility” of baking bread. I think when wives got their servants, one of the first things they delegated was baking the bread. I’m not sure anyone ever fought for the honor.

But bread is a blessing. I remember being in the field one time in the same forward operating base with a bakery unit. I remember the wonderful smell of the ovens, which made me homesick. I remember the time they gave me a whole loaf, fresh from the oven, for myself. Compared to the C Rations we were eating, it tasted like cake.

Mattihiah’s bread was used in the temple, which made it even more of a blessing. Maybe he got to teach or preach sometimes too, but it doesn’t say, so I gather that his main function was bread. But it was an important job, enough so to be mentioned specifically.

There are a lot of jobs like that in churches, jobs like custodial work or nursery attendant or setting up chairs and tables. There are a lot of roles like that in life, too, things like bagging groceries or greeting at the Walmart doors. And in families and relationships, someone needs to prepare food, do laundry, sweep the garage. 

When I think of calling, I think of the preacher, honored for his special training. I think of counselors and evangelists, on the front lines in the war with evil. Am I wrong to give those people a higher place than the ones who shovel snow? I think maybe I am.

I need to value every act of service. And not just in others. I need to do them too, even the most lowly. That’s harder for me.

ordinary

I think 1 Chronicles needs a few more chapters. I’d like to know more about the family of Ephraim.

1 Chronicles 7:21-24 tell us, “Ezer and Elead were killed by the native- born men of Gath, when they went down to seize their livestock. Their father Ephraim mourned for them many days, and his relatives came to comfort him. Then he made love to his wife again, and she became pregnant and gave birth to a son. He named him Beriah, because there had been misfortune in his family. His daughter was Sheerah, who built Lower and Upper Beth Horon as well as Uzzen Sheerah.”

There’s a lot of drama in those few short verses, and of course Ephraim had many more children than just these four. But the loss of two sons on a raid, and the birth of a new baby boy are compelling. Still, the thing I want to know more about was this daugher who built three towns.

There are some remarkable women in the Old Testament, and we get the stories of a few of them. Why doesn’t Sheerah get a little more space? I want to know if she had a husband, and whether he helped her or did his own thing. I want to know why she decided to build these towns. I want to know if the men of the day opposed her. Nehemiah and Ezra got a lot of opposition; did Sheerah? What kind of person was she, that she accomplished so much?

I guess her life story didn’t have the elements of revelation required to be told in the Bible. It’s enough that she’s mentioned, I guess, because it suggests that sometimes lives of great accomplishment aren’t the most important contributions to God’s kingdom. At the same time I get a hint of a woman who lived faithfully to God and so was able to do great things.

Either way, the idea I’m left with is that each of our lives becomes exactly what God desires it to be, if we walk closely with him. For whatever reason, Ephraim’s territory needed three towns that his daughter built. For whatever reason, my town and my church and my company need an army-trained leader and operator who thinks a lot and sometimes jots down his thoughts. In both cases, God put a person in place and gave the required skills.

It’s a kind of faithfulness that happens around me every day, one I just don’t notice. But each of my days is filled with ordinary people equipped in extraordinary ways to live the lives God calls them to. When I look at it that way, there are no ordinary people, or lives.

worship music

I tend to like musicians - my wife is one. In addition to playing piano or organ most services, she also plans worship for our church. As a result, we have a lot of good music in our services.

Although I never thought much about it, I probably would have said that was our preference. But this morning, still slogging through the genealogies at the start of 1 Chronicles, I came across these verses: “These are the men David put in charge of the music in the house of the Lord after the ark came to rest there. They ministered with music before the tabernacle, the tent of meeting, until Solomon built the temple of the Lord in Jerusalem. They performed their duties according to the regulations laid down for them.” (1Ch 6:31-32) 

The men listed were called to music ministry in the same way that the other Levites were called to priestly duty. Not only were they called, but their ministry was regulated, presumably by God since he was the one who laid down all the temple laws.

I’ve always been proud of my wife but this made me a little prouder. Her work follows in the footsteps of faithful servants from the earliest days of the church, when the people worshiped in a tent. 

This suggests that rather than just a choice, music is a necessity to good worship. Why? 

I wonder if it’s because music is appreciated first of all emotionally. Preaching, reading and prayer can be intellectual, especially to a person inclined to logic rather than emotion. Could it be that true worship requires, maybe even is primarily, emotion? Could it be that worship is better when it includes the beauty of the arts along with the logic of theology?

I don’t know why, but it’s enough to know that God not only wanted, he commanded music for worship. We need to encourage and value our musicians.

prosperity

In my reading this morning I once again came to Jabez, one more name in the midst of a half dozen chapters of genealogies. Jabez got a bad rap a number of years ago because of the Bruce Wilkensen book about his prayer, which most Reformed Christians disdain as promoting prosperity theology. 

But here’s the intriguing thing: God granted his prayer. 

Here’s everything we’re told about Jabez.  “Jabez was more honorable than his brothers. His mother had named him Jabez, saying, ‘I gave birth to him in pain.’ Jabez cried out to the God of Israel, ‘Oh, that you would bless me and enlarge my territory! Let your hand be with me, and keep me from harm so that I will be free from pain.’ And God granted his request.” (1 Chronicles 4:9-10.)

You can see why we Dutch Calvinists aren’t impressed. “Lord, make me rich and important. Oh, and give me an easy, pain-free life.” I was taught to pray for others, to pray for God’s kingdom to grow. If I do pray for myself, I tend to pray for my soul, for God’s strength to stand against temptation. To pray for an easy, prosperous life doesn’t seem consistent with warnings of how we’ll suffer if we follow Christ.

Could it be that God isn’t really as dead set against pleasure and comfort as we might make him out to be? Is it possible that sometimes, or for some people, he just delights in making us happy?

It occurs to me that maybe it’s OK for Jabez to pray for these seemingly selfish things because he is acknowledging God as the source of all goodness. He doesn’t attribute success to his own efforts. He isn’t reading self-help books and putting in 80-hour weeks in pursuit of prosperity. He asks God, the one who blesses. He trusts God, and God grants his requests.

I think this might change my prayers. Maybe I can be more forthright and honest with God about what’s really on my heart. I don’t have to pretend to be unconcerned about myself; I can pray about the things that are affecting me, even if they’re as simple and self-centered as itchy chigger bites.

Thinking like this makes God seem less a judge and more a father. That’s good.

love like God

1 Chronicles has maybe the most boring first chapters of any book, at least to me. They’re just list after list of genealogies. But this morning there was something there that I hadn’t thought of before. 

In the middle of the first chapter, starting at verse 28, were the descendants of Hagar and Keturah. Hagar I knew of as the mother of Ishmael. Keturah didn’t ring a bell, but it says she was a concubine of Abraham. 

These are two branches of the family tree that could easily be left out, or even intentionally pruned away. They had nothing to do with the 12 tribes who inherited the Promised Land, much less the line of David that would produce our Savior.

But God in his faithfulness didn’t forget Hagar, just as he promised her. And he didn’t forget Keturah either. Two women taken by Abraham for his own purposes, as a human solution to the problem of an heir. Two women that could easily be considered outside of God’s plan. But their children and grandchildren are there, named right along with Boaz and Jesse and David.

It’s comforting to me to think that God has no stepchildren. Each of us, not matter the circumstance of our birth or how we came to know him, is as loved as all the others. 

How can it be, then, that we who follow this God seem so intolerant to the rest of the world? How did we acquire a reputation for small-mindedness and hate? It reminds me that because I identify with Christ, I have to be careful to love like Christ. 

blind spots

Jehu, the army commander made king, the zealous assassin for the Lord, in the end was a failure. I read about him this morning in 1 Kings 10, and it occurred to me that Jehu’s problem was that he only partly got it. And then I figured out that I do to.

Verses 27-29 say, “They demolished the sacred stone of Baal and tore down the temple of Baal, and people have used it for a latrine to this day. So Jehu destroyed Baal worship in Israel. However, he did not turn away from the sins of Jeroboam son of Nebat, which he had caused Israel to commit—the worship of the golden calves at Bethel and Dan.”

Jehu seemed to recognize that his job was to eliminate every vestige of evil brought to Israel by Ahab and Jezebel. He did that job thoroughly, as a military professional would. But he didn’t get that what God wanted was true worship of him alone, so Jehu left in place idols that were set up by an earlier king.

Jehu reminded me how easy it is to have blind spots, things in my life that I just don’t see because they’re too close. It’s easy for me to spot and condemn sin that’s out there, that other people are doing. It’s a lot harder for me to see all the ways my own life disappoints God.

Jehu did as he was commanded, but he obeyed the letter of his orders and never understood their intent. In the same way, I can interpret living for God as changing the world and never really get that first of all God wants to change me. 

How many sins do I accept because I don’t even see them as sin? That’s a question I won’t be able to answer until God shows me. One more thing to pray about.

open eyes

I remember being at a church-building conference years ago where someone asked the key presenter, “What do you pray for?” His answer: “I pray to see the world as God sees it.”

I thought of that this morning as I read the story of Elisha, especially the part where Israel’s enemy, the king of Aram, sent an arm to arrest him. Elisha’s servant, looking through human eyes, saw doom. But then, “Elisha prayed, ‘Open his eyes, Lord, so that he may see.’ Then the Lord opened the servant's eyes, and he looked and saw the hills full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha.” (2 Kings 6:17)

The story gets better, though. Elisha asks God to blind the Aramean army, and then leads them into Jerusalem. That time when Elisha prays for open eyes, his enemies suddenly can see that they’re helpless in the middle of the Israelite capital.

If God’s people could see as God does, instead of a scary, threatening world they would see protection and providence all around them. They would see lost sheep in need of a savior instead of “Walmart people” and “losers” and all the other names we call each other. They would see not political infighting or geopolitical strife but Satan’s centuries-old battle to steal souls from Jesus, and would realize that the so-called other side are people just like us who were lied to by Satan.

If unbelievers could see as God does, they’d realize that they’re not really winning. They would see that they don’t have God on the run, they haven’t pushed him out of public life, he isn’t dead or powerless or irrelevant. They would see instead that he has graciously delayed the day of his coming, the day of judgment, just to give them more time.

If I could see the world as God does, I would condemn less and love more. I’d worry less and trust more. I’d be angry less and be more broken-hearted. And I’d want nothing more than to help those others I’m so quick to scorn.

respect

In the Army there was a saying: “We salute the rank, not the man.” The point was that the chain of command only works if all soldiers give respect according to rank, not according to their personal views of the person holding the rank.

I thought of that this morning when I read of Elisha being called on by the king of Israel to foretell the outcome of a pending battle. Three kings had come together to do war, and now they wanted some reassurance. Elisha wasn’t inclined to help out his enemy, but he said this, in 

2 Kings 3:14:  "As surely as the Lord Almighty lives, whom I serve, if I did not have respect for the presence of Jehoshaphat king of Judah, I would not pay any attention to you.”

Elisha didn’t respect Jehoshaphat because he was such a good king, or even a good man. Elisha respected the fact that, out of love for David, God had promised there would always be a descendent of David on the throne in Judah. Even though most of the kingdom had been stripped away, God honored the man after his own heart in this way.

Elisha honored God, so Elisha honored what God honored. David’s line would always be treated with respect because of David and his devotion to God.

It makes me wonder if there are things that God honors that I don’t. Maybe there are things I honor in principle but not always in deed, like justice for widows and orphans. Sometimes my vote goes to candidates who will be good for business and the economy, not those who want to strengthen the social safety net.

Sometimes I might just pay lip service to the idea of unity in the church, while what I’m really doing with my words is aggravating differences of opinion. Maybe I try to act humble but really think I’m doing pretty well in life by myself. 

Elisha’s words remind me that I need to respect the things God wants respected. It isn’t hard to know what those things are, so why don’t I do a better job of it?

no God in Israel?

Words I read this morning from the prophet Elijah to the king seemed to me to be a condemnation of America. The king, sick in bed, sent men to inquire of the false god Baal whether or not he would recover. Elijah confronted the men, and later on the king himself, with these words: "This is what the Lord says: Is it because there is no God in Israel for you to consult that you have sent messengers to consult Baal- Zebub, the god of Ekron?” (2 Kings 1:16)

As I read, I heard in my mind, “Is there no God in America for you to consult? Why do you rely on exit polls to predict the outcome of the election? Why do you consult statistics and actuarial tables to calculate your security? Why do you rely on piles of money to secure your retirement?”

In a nation where most of us still claim to be Christians, why do we Christians still get so uneasy when other Christians say they have a word from God on a particular subject? Do I really not believe God could or would speak? Do I just feel guilty because I don’t earnestly seek God in prayer whenever I’m worried or need to know the right thing to do?

I look a lot of places for answers. I seek advice from people I don’t know on the Internet. I look to science, even though to date most scientists still get the basic facts about the origin of life wrong. I like seminars and TED talks and National Geographic magazine. I spend more time with all these sources of knowledge than I do with the Bible.

Sometimes I act like there’s no God in America. I don’t believe that. I know God is the same as he ever was. I just tend to go to the same financial planners and insurance advisors and health gurus and talking heads that all the unbelievers rely on for my answers.

God and only God controls my life. Why do I so often ignore the fact that He’s right here?

giving up

I’m no hero. It seems I get a lot more wrong in life than right, and I let down more people than I rescue. But today as I read in 1 Kings 19 I was reminded that even people we call heroes are just men and women like me.

In this chapter Elijah, the prophet of God is fleeing for his life from Queen Jezebel. Hiding in the wilderness, he sat down under a bush and said this prayer (v4): “I have had enough, Lord. Take my life; I am no better than my ancestors.”

Elijah gave up. With all the mighty miracles he’d performed, and the amazing providence God had shown him, his courage still failed and his spirit proved weak. He lost sight of God and looked at his plight as though he had to solve it. And he quit; he lay down and asked to die.

That seems a lot more like me. When the going gets tough, sometimes I get going but sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I get discouraged. Sometimes I whine and moan. Sometimes I even get angry with God. And never have those times been as serious as my government wanting me dead.

It encourages me that Elijah had this episode. It encourages me even more that God didn’t get angry, but encouraged him through it and rescued him once again. And it encourages me that from this low point Elijah rose up again to become the respected and feared prophet of God he was called to be.

Me at my worst isn’t who I am in Christ. Me at my best isn’t really me, but Christ working in me. I can’t think of anything more comforting as I struggle each day not to be as weak as I was the day before.

ravens and widows

Being a prophet of the Lord was a rough gig. In 1 Kings 17 is the story of Elijah, who brought Israel news of years of drought. And then, in verses 5-6: “So he did what the Lord had told him. He went to the Kerith Ravine, east of the Jordan, and stayed there. The ravens brought him bread and meat in the morning and bread and meat in the evening, and he drank from the brook.”

Picture him there, by the brook in this rocky ditch. No internet, no TV, no library. What did he do? Those twice-daily visits from the ravens must have been the highlight of his day. The bread was probably dried out and the meat was either raw or cold, depending on where the ravens got it. And once he was done with the ravine, it was on to the widow’s upper room. House arrest, as it were.

I wonder why God didn’t just send a legion of angels to protect Elijah. I wonder why he didn’t just strike down the king. This is the God who chased away the Midianites with the sound of marching in the treetops; he made enemies of Israel lose their minds and fight each other. So why did Elijah have to go on the run?

I read once that in all things God is either working through me, or he’s working on me. Maybe the time in the ravine was something Elijah needed in order to grow. Maybe God’s plan to get the attention of Israel once again also included blessings for the widow.

I can seldom see what God’s doing with my life. Most of the time it seems routine, nothing special, to the point that I feel guilty. Often, though, I look back and see how something prepared me for something else. Even my greatest sin has shaped me in a way God has used to empathetically help people. Even so, there are still things I wonder about. 

I guess that’s why they call it faith. I can’t see God’s plan for me. I don’t get why my life goes the way it does. I have thought more than once that I must be a particularly headstrong and willful child, because my plans seem to be thwarted more often than blessed. I should thank God for that. I think I’m where he wants me, but I wouldn’t be here if I’d done my own thing.

So praise God for those times he’s sentenced me to the ravine, or confined me in the widow’s upper room. Even though I still struggle to make my life all about him, at least he’s kept it from being all about me.

protection, not restriction

Of all the destructive forces in the world, Solomon’s wives have to rank near the top in terms of the damage they did. 

1 Kings 11 details in the first verses Solomon’s seven hundred wives and three hundred concubines. We’re told of all the pagan altars Solomon built so his various wives could worship the gods they grew up with. You see, most of Solomon’s wives were from pagan nations. In fact, we’re told in verse 2 that they were women that the Israelites were forbidden to marry. But scripture tells us Solomon was bound to them in love.

It made God mad, so God split the kingdom and gave 10 tribes to another king. Only Judah remained faithful to Rehoboam, the son of Solomon. But not to God. 1 Kings 14:23-24 says, “They also set up for themselves high places, sacred stones and Asherah poles on every high hill and under every spreading tree. There were even male shrine prostitutes in the land; the people engaged in all the detestable practices of the nations the Lord had driven out before the Israelites.”

Solomon, the son of David. Rehoboam, the grandson of David. These were the men who led Israel into idolatry. They were the third and fourth kings the Israelites ever had. In the forty years Solomon ruled, Israel became a world power and also a pagan nation. All because Solomon loved his many wives.

Centuries of misery were in store for God’s people, because one of God’s commands was violated. The wisdom of that command is made obvious by the consequences of breaking it.

I don’t like some of the restrictions God seems to put on me. On my more bitter days I might think of my faith as something that keeps me from enjoying life. Sometimes I’d like to be more like my fellow Americans. Sometimes I get tired of trying to swim against the currents.

But that’s because I want to love the world like Solomon loved his wives. I’m reminded this morning that Solomon’s wives destroyed his kingdom. God’s rule about marrying pagans wasn’t given just to impose his will, to require the Israelites to do a hard thing to serve him. He made the rule to keep his people from a dangerous, self-destructive act. 

God’s law isn’t restriction; it’s protection. When I see that, it’s a lot easier to obey.

true leadership

The topic of leadership is a big deal these days, with a whole industry devoted to providing books and seminars that teach good leadership techniques. I’m often amused when some supposedly new concept comes out that I’ve been reading about for years in the Bible.

“Servant leadership” is a current buzzword in business, and it’s counter-intuitive. Most folks think of bosses as the ones with power and perks, the ones who can do what they want and get to order other people to do what they want. It’s generated a lot of chatter.

But this morning I read about the Queen of Sheba’s visit to Solomon. She was amazed by him, and said, “Praise be to the Lord your God, who has delighted in you and placed you on the throne of Israel. Because of the Lord 's eternal love for Israel, he has made you king to maintain justice and righteousness." (1 Kings 10:9)

It couldn’t be any more plain: Leaders are raised up not for their own benefit, but for the good of the led. And that good comes in two ways. The people are given justice, and led into righteousness. Servant leadership, it turns out, was the original template for leadership. This new idea is actually centuries old.

The Queen of Sheba realized that leaders are really supposed to make sure everyone has the same opportunities as everyone else, and that everyone is treated fairly. That’s justice. Leaders also are supposed to create an environment where the people are encouraged to obey God’s laws, and to model that for their people. That’s righteousness.

It’s interesting to evaluate our national leaders using the Queen of Sheba’s standards of justice and righteousness. But it’s more important for me to look at myself. At various times and places I’m responsible to lead others. In fact, any person can lead in any situation, because true leadership is more about influence than authority. 

When I’m with others, am I promoting justice and righteousness, or am I more focused on promotions and profits? Am I working to build my own empire, or God’s kingdom?

Achievement

I have always struggled to related to Solomon. David the warrior king who lived in caves I kind of get. But Solomon the wise, the great philosopher and builder, has always seemed less real and more of a historical figure. Today, reading in 1 Kings, I noticed something that made him seem even less like me.

It was just a snippet, found in verse 1: “When Solomon had finished building the temple of the Lord and the royal palace, and had achieved all he had desired to do, the Lord appeared to him a second time . . . .” Solomon set out with a plan, and labored at it for about twenty years. And in the end, he did it all. He achieved everything he wanted. 

There are a small handful of things in my life that I have completed according to plan. There are a few more that maybe give me a few points for persistence; I didn’t really do it the way I envisioned, but I stuck things out to the end. But, in my memory anyway, my path is really littered with projects begun but not finished and good intentions never realized. 

I feel guilty about that because I tend to see people like Solomon as somehow more God-honoring. They make good use of their gifts. They aren’t distracted by pleasures or recreation. They accomplish great works. But me . . . . I’m lazy, easily distracted, too ready to compromise. At least that’s how I seem to myself.

I want to be a Solomon. I feel like I have some great gifts. In fact, there are a few things that I think I can do as well as anyone I’ve ever met. But somehow I’ve never consistently performed at that level. My few accomplishments have been done on relatively small stages with audiences equally as small. The dreams I had as a young man have given way to what I call a more realistic view. But this little verse about Solomon makes me wonder if “realistic” isn’t just code for “Nah, not gonna work that hard.”

I want to be a faithful servant. I want to be the man who turned one talent into five. I want to set my sights on great things for God and achieve them. But right now I don’t feel like that’s who I am.

Too hard on myself? Maybe. Odds are I’ve done more good than I realize. And there’s a lot of life and opportunity left. In the end this verse about Solomon is a good reminder of what I’m here for, and a good model of what servanthood can look like.

better?

Is bigger better? A lot of people think so, especially when it comes to buildings. So I’m not sure what to make of 1 Kings 6 and 7, which describe Solomon building the temple, and his palace. The last verse of chapter 6 and the first verse of chapter 7 set the contrast: “The foundation of the temple of the Lord was laid in the fourth year, in the month of Ziv. In the eleventh year in the month of Bul, the eighth month, the temple was finished in all its details according to its specifications. He had spent seven years building it. It took Solomon thirteen years, however, to complete the construction of his palace.”

You see, Solomon’s palace was bigger. The temple was 60 cubits long and 20 wide, but the palace was 100 cubits by 30. Is that important? By today’s standards, it would seem Solomon was putting more importance on himself. Was he? Based on the first part of 1 Kings, he doesn’t seem like he would, but he did show a bent toward excess during his reign.

Does it matter? I don’t know. There’s no hint at all that God was displeased, but then God was satisfied to wait four centuries to move from his tent into a building (metaphorically speaking, of course). 

As I think about it, two things occur to me. The first is that God doesn’t seem to begrudge us good things when we earnestly follow after him. Joy and blessing in this life aren’t incompatible with faithful service. God only seems to object when those things divert us from him. That may be why Solomon’s big palace was OK with God.

The other thing is that the opinions of other people are still a key part of my witness. God might be OK with Solomon’s palace but it made me cringe a little bit. What did it communicate to the Israelites? Scripture doesn’t say, but they had moved a long way from the day when Israel had no king, but was ruled more directly by God himself through prophets and judges.

My conclusion is that when God chooses to allow me worldly blessings to give me comfort in my journey, I still have to be careful with how those things appear to my brothers and sisters, and to others who know me to be a Christian. 

That’s maybe a lot to read into a few odd details, but it’s where my meditating led me. As with everything related to scripture, it merits further thought.

war and love

The end of 2 Samuel 21 describes several battles fought by David’s army against the Philistines toward the end of David’s reign. Reading about it made me wonder a couple of things.

In verse 19 I read this: “ In another battle with the Philistines at Gob, Elhanan son of Jair the Bethlehemite killed the brother of Goliath the Gittite, who had a spear with a shaft like a weaver's rod.” 

It intrigued me that Goliath had a brother. The other three battles also resulted in the deaths of Philistine heros, giant men, one with six fingers and six toes on each hand and foot. All were descendents of someone named Rapha, evidently well known at the time. So I wonder, who was Rapha, and what were his family of giants like? 

Which led me to a much harder question. Why all the war against the Philistines? I know that God gave over Canaan to his people and commanded them to clear the land of all its pagan-worshiping inhabitants. What I wonder sometimes is why that was necessary. The Old Testament books of Judges and 1 and 2 Samuel are chapter after chapter of relentless killing.

The reason the question seems important to me is that God doesn’t change. I get it that he wanted the influence of pagan religions eradicated so his people could more easily avoid being enticed. But what does that mean today? I don’t want to think it means we Christians should try to eliminate everyone who doesn’t believe like us. I don’t want to agree with those who resist allowing immigrants to settle here. I don’t want to go along with the strident voices that try to “otherize” anyone whose sin is different than the standard ones we’re used to living with.

Yet God seems to demand that I don’t just accept pagan gods in the land either. So what does he expect of me?

I don’t know. But there are a couple of things that I do know. One is that where I have influence, I can’t allow sin to flourish. And the other is that the greatest commandment still is to love God with all my heart and love my neighbor as myself. Somehow the answer lies in doing the second in a way that accomplishes the first.