Some Needed Encouragement (Revelation 15:1-4)

The Seven Last Plagues and the Harps of God, by Nicolas Bataille, c.1380 C.E.

I saw in heaven another great and marvelous sign: seven angels with the seven last plagues—last, because with them God’s wrath is completed. And I saw what looked like a sea of glass glowing with fire and, standing beside the sea, those who had been victorious over the beast and its image and over the number of its name. They held harps given them by God and sang the song of God’s servant Moses and of the Lamb:

“Great and marvelous are your deeds,
    Lord God Almighty.
Just and true are your ways,
    King of the nations.
Who will not fear you, Lord,
    and bring glory to your name?
For you alone are holy.
All nations will come
    and worship before you,
for your righteous acts have been revealed.” (New International Version)

Let’s keep in mind that the book of Revelation (also known as The Apocalypse of John) is a vision of the Apostle John about how things shake out in the end. The purpose of the vision is not for us to get lost in esoteric speculations about the future and try to figure out specific dates and times of God’s judgment.

Rather, John’s Revelation was primarily meant to give believers a future hope that their hardships and suffering will not last forever; there is a time coming, soon, when Judge Jesus will make all things right and all things new. In other words, the vision of John was designed to provide needed encouragement to followers of Jesus.

The believers needed a connection to their spiritual heritage – a way to see that they weren’t an isolated faith island in the middle of the world’s crud. The heavenly beings were singing a song of Moses and of the Lamb (Jesus). The two are connected, thus bringing together the saints of ages past with the struggling Christians of the present.

The song of Moses is a song of triumph, sung after the Israelites passed through the Red Sea unharmed and the Egyptian army was eradicated:

“I will sing to the Lord,
    for he is highly exalted.
Both horse and driver
    he has hurled into the sea.

“The Lord is my strength and my defense;
    he has become my salvation.
He is my God, and I will praise him,
    my father’s God, and I will exalt him.
The Lord is a warrior;
    the Lord is his name.
Pharaoh’s chariots and his army
    he has hurled into the sea.
The best of Pharaoh’s officers
    are drowned in the Red Sea.
The deep waters have covered them;
    they sank to the depths like a stone.
Your right hand, Lord,
    was majestic in power.
Your right hand, Lord,
    shattered the enemy.

Flee From Egypt, by Rev. Albert Lee Wagner, 1975

“In the greatness of your majesty
    you threw down those who opposed you.
You unleashed your burning anger;
    it consumed them like stubble.
By the blast of your nostrils
    the waters piled up.
The surging waters stood up like a wall;
    the deep waters congealed in the heart of the sea.
The enemy boasted,
    ‘I will pursue, I will overtake them.
I will divide the spoils;
    I will gorge myself on them.
I will draw my sword
    and my hand will destroy them.’
But you blew with your breath,
    and the sea covered them.
They sank like lead
    in the mighty waters.
Who among the gods
    is like you, Lord?
Who is like you—
    majestic in holiness,
awesome in glory,
    working wonders?

“You stretch out your right hand,
    and the earth swallows your enemies.
In your unfailing love you will lead
    the people you have redeemed.
In your strength you will guide them
    to your holy dwelling.
The nations will hear and tremble;
    anguish will grip the people of Philistia.
The chiefs of Edom will be terrified,
    the leaders of Moab will be seized with trembling,
the people of Canaan will melt away;
    terror and dread will fall on them.
By the power of your arm
    they will be as still as a stone—
until your people pass by, Lord,
    until the people you bought pass by.
You will bring them in and plant them
    on the mountain of your inheritance—
the place, Lord, you made for your dwelling,
    the sanctuary, Lord, your hands established.

“The Lord reigns
    for ever and ever.” (Exodus 15:1-18, NIV)

Throughout the millennia, this deliverance from harsh slavery to freedom is annually recalled and remembered in the Passover. The original Passover in Egypt involved a lamb being slain and it’s blood applied to the doorposts of each Jewish home. The avenging angel “passed over” those homes and instead dealt with the Egyptian houses which had no lamb’s blood over the door.

The song of Moses and the song of the Lamb (Jesus) are really the same song. Both the deliverance out of Egypt and through the Red Sea, as well as the deliverance from guilt and shame through the cross and resurrection, was real salvation from all that oppressed and hindered the people from living into their true selves.

This connection to salvation history was a great boon to the early believers undergoing their own brand of injustice, oppression, and persecution – just for being followers of Jesus.

So, we all need to apply the death of the Lamb to our present situations, so that we can endure through hardship and not give up and experience a failure of faith. We continually need a strengthening of faith, to recall and remember who we are and to whom we belong, so that we will sing our own song of hope and deliverance.

“Awake and Sing the Song,” by English hymnist William Hammond (1719-1783)

Awake, and sing the song
Of Moses and the Lamb;
Tune every heart and every tongue
To praise the Savior’s name.

Sing of His dying love;
Sing of His rising power;
Sing how He intercedes above
For those whose sins He bore.

Tell, in seraphic strains,
What He has done for you;
How He has taken off your chains
And formed your hearts anew.

His faithfulness proclaim
While life to you is given:
Join hands and hearts to praise His name
Till we all meet in heaven.

Amen.

Forgotten, but Blessed (Genesis 40:1-23)

Joseph, the cupbearer, and the baker in prison, by Gerbrand van den Eeckhout, 1643

Sometime later, Pharaoh’s chief cupbearer and chief baker offended their royal master. Pharaoh became angry with these two officials, and he put them in the prison where Joseph was, in the palace of the captain of the guard. They remained in prison for quite some time, and the captain of the guard assigned them to Joseph, who looked after them.

While they were in prison, Pharaoh’s cupbearer and baker each had a dream one night, and each dream had its own meaning. When Joseph saw them the next morning, he noticed that they both looked upset. “Why do you look so worried today?” he asked them.

And they replied, “We both had dreams last night, but no one can tell us what they mean.”

“Interpreting dreams is God’s business,” Joseph replied. “Go ahead and tell me your dreams.”

So the chief cupbearer told Joseph his dream first. “In my dream,” he said, “I saw a grapevine in front of me. The vine had three branches that began to bud and blossom, and soon it produced clusters of ripe grapes. I was holding Pharaoh’s wine cup in my hand, so I took a cluster of grapes and squeezed the juice into the cup. Then I placed the cup in Pharaoh’s hand.”

“This is what the dream means,” Joseph said. “The three branches represent three days. Within three days Pharaoh will lift you up and restore you to your position as his chief cupbearer. And please remember me and do me a favor when things go well for you. Mention me to Pharaoh, so he might let me out of this place.For I was kidnapped from my homeland, the land of the Hebrews, and now I’m here in prison, but I did nothing to deserve it.”

When the chief baker saw that Joseph had given the first dream such a positive interpretation, he said to Joseph, “I had a dream, too. In my dream there were three baskets of white pastries stacked on my head. The top basket contained all kinds of pastries for Pharaoh, but the birds came and ate them from the basket on my head.”

“This is what the dream means,” Joseph told him. “The three baskets also represent three days. Three days from now Pharaoh will lift you up and impale your body on a pole. Then birds will come and peck away at your flesh.”

Pharaoh’s birthday came three days later, and he prepared a banquet for all his officials and staff. He summoned his chief cupbearer and chief baker to join the other officials. He then restored the chief cupbearer to his former position, so he could again hand Pharaoh his cup. But Pharaoh impaled the chief baker, just as Joseph had predicted when he interpreted his dream. Pharaoh’s chief cupbearer, however, forgot all about Joseph, never giving him another thought. (New Living Translation)

Joseph, the cupbearer, and the baker, by Alexander Ivanov (1806-1858)

It is a sinking (and stinking) feeling to be forgotten, as if no one cares. But we know God cares. And we also know Joseph did nothing wrong. How did he get to this point of being left in a prison? What’s up with that?

Joseph’s Story

The story of Joseph (Genesis 37, 39-50) is one of the longest narratives in the Old Testament. Joseph was next to the youngest of 12 sons born to their father Jacob. Rachel was Jacob’s favorite wife and Joseph’s mother – which also made Joseph one Jacob’s favorites. This didn’t go down well with the rest of the sons. Joseph’s brothers (unbeknownst by Jacob) sold him into slavery.

Joseph was taken to Egypt and became the servant of Pharaoh’s captain of the guard, Potiphar. Joseph distinguished himself as competent, skillful, and virtuous. It was actually his integrity which got him into prison. Refusing to sleep with Potiphar’s wife, she became an angry woman and accused Joseph of something he didn’t do. The captain promptly dispatched him to jail.

Human Hatred and Unfaithfulness

Joseph became a slave in Egypt because of jealousy, hatred, and lack of faithfulness on the part of Joseph’s brothers. They disowned him, sold him, and rid themselves of him. The brothers wanted to forget Joseph, and they did.

Furthermore, Joseph became a prisoner in Egypt because of anger, hate, and betrayal of faith. Potiphar’s wife didn’t get what she wanted from Joseph, so she lied and fumed, landing Joseph in a dank prison. He was left without another thought – forgotten and jailed for no fault of his own.

And just when we think the story might turn around, and Joseph will be freed from his unjust imprisonment, the chief cupbearer (wine steward) promptly forgot him and said nothing to Pharaoh after he was out of jail and restored to his position. Once again, Joseph is the undeserved recipient of unfaithfulness. He remains in prison for another two years. Oy.

As much as we might like to get past all these unjust and maddening situations, Holy Scripture does not let us off the hook so easily. We have to sit with Joseph for a while, and feel what he feels, experience what he experiences, so that we can learn our own lessons from him.

Whether we like it, or not, suffering is a reality. And yet, although sometimes forgotten by humanity, we are remembered by divinity….

Divine Presence in the Middle of Suffering

God is present with us through hardship and adversity. Joseph’s story sets up the contrast between fickle humans and a faithful God. A lot of people in Joseph’s life let him down. But God was there as the continual divine presence throughout every circumstance, both good and bad…

  • God gifted Joseph and had special plans for him. God was with Joseph in his dreams. (Genesis 37:5-11) 
  • God was with Joseph, so that he succeeded in everything he did; the Lord caused all that Joseph did to prosper. (Genesis 39:2-3)
  • God showed Joseph steadfast love, and gave him favor in the sight of the chief jailer. The jailer did not worry about anything, because the Lord was with Joseph and made him successful in all that he did. (Genesis 39:21, 23)
  • God was present with Joseph in helping him interpret dreams, even in difficult situations. (Genesis 40:8)

God’s presence makes a difference. The Lord met Joseph in his suffering – yet did not leave him there. God entered Joseph’s suffering, was present with him while in it, and eventually brought him out of it, to another and better place. And in the process, God blessed others through Joseph.

Not only did Joseph survive, but he also thrived in the middle of injustice. God quietly went about the business of using Joseph as an agent of blessing everywhere he was sent: To Potiphar and his household; to the chief jailer and all those in prison; and then to Pharaoh and all of Egypt.

In the end, even the conniving and caballing brothers receive blessing — through Joseph. In this way, the Lord was fulfilling the divine promise to Abraham — that he and Sarah and their descendants would be blessed; and that through them, all the nations of the earth would also be blessed.

God is present with those in suffering. Yet, the way God works almost never seems fast enough for those who are suffering. We, along with the psalm writers, cry out, “How long, O Lord!?”

In situations, such as Joseph’s, it won’t do to offer platitudes to “Let go, and let God,” “Everything works for good,” or “God never gives us more than we can handle.” Sheesh. I doubt anyone in life-or-death situations relies on nifty phrases. They want God, and they understandably want God now.

Whether quick or slow, hard or unbearable, the biblical promise nevertheless stills stands that God meets us in our suffering. And God does not leave us there. God also calls us and moves us to more pleasant places. And know this: In the process and in the journey, God will bless others through us.

O God:
Give me strength to live another day;
Let me not turn coward before its difficulties or prove passive to its duties;
Let me not lose faith in other people;
Keep me sweet and sound of heart, in spite of ingratitude, treachery, or meanness;
Preserve me from minding little stings or from giving them;
Help me to keep my heart clean, and to live so honestly and fearlessly that no outward failure can dishearten me or take away the joy of conscious integrity;
Open wide the eyes of my soul that I may see good in all things;
Grant me this day some new vision of truth;
Inspire me with a spirit of joy and gladness;
and make me the cup of strength to suffering souls;
in the name of the strong Deliverer, our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Have a Piece of Humble Pie (Romans 9:14-29)

What can we say—that God is unfair? That’s unthinkable! For example, God said to Moses, “I will be kind to anyone I want to. I will be merciful to anyone I want to.” Therefore, God’s choice does not depend on a person’s desire or effort, but on God’s mercy.

For example, Scripture says to Pharaoh, “I put you here for this reason: to demonstrate my power through you and to spread my name throughout the earth.” Therefore, if God wants to be kind to anyone, he will be. If he wants to make someone stubborn, he will.

You may ask me, “Why does God still find fault with anyone? Who can resist whatever God wants to do?”

Who do you think you are to talk back to God like that? Can an object that was made say to its maker, “Why did you make me like this?” A potter has the right to do whatever he wants with his clay. He can make something for a special occasion or something for everyday use from the same lump of clay.

If God wants to demonstrate his anger and reveal his power, he can do it. But can’t he be extremely patient with people who are objects of his anger because they are headed for destruction? Can’t God also reveal the riches of his glory to people who are objects of his mercy and who he had already prepared for glory? This is what God did for us whom he called—whether we are Jews or not.

As God says in Hosea:

“Those who are not my people
I will call my people.
Those who are not loved
I will call my loved ones.
Wherever they were told,
‘You are not my people,’
they will be called children of the living God.”

Isaiah also says about Israel:

“Although the descendants of Israel are
as numerous as the grains of sand on the seashore,
only a few will be saved.
The Lord will carry out his sentence on the land,
completely and decisively.”

This is what Isaiah predicted:

“If the Lord of Armies hadn’t left us some descendants,
we would have been like Sodom and Gomorrah.” (God’s Word Translation)

In Christianity, humility is a virtue. Yet, sometimes Christians forget this, and they have to eat some humble pie.

In other words, there are times we need to be put in our place. It would go a lot better for us if we could just cultivate a humble spirit, rather than have humility forced upon us under embarrassing conditions.

The Apostle Paul realized he needed to make the Roman Church eat some humble pie. They were acting arrogant. The Jewish Christians and the Gentile Christians each thought they were better than the other. So, Paul reminded them both who was really in charge of things.

The proud person’s cry, when things don’t go their way, is “It’s not fair!” That’s because they believe they deserve to have something, to be on top, to call the shots on how things ought to go.

Paul was particularly hard on his fellow Jewish Christians, probably because he was quite familiar with their mindset about Gentiles (non-Jewish persons). The Jews tended to feel superior over Gentiles, and thus, to believe that they have the high ground and the right to trump Gentile thinking.

But Paul also took the Gentile Christians to task. They had a nasty habit of rolling their eyes whenever their Jewish sisters and brothers talked. The Gentiles mostly saw the Jews as hopelessly stuck in their old traditions and ways of doing things. And so, they believed new leadership was needed, wanting those crusty old guys out.

Therefore, each group – both the Jewish Christians and the Gentile Christians – had some major hang up’s about who should be in the Church and heading things up, and who should be out.

The Apostle (bless his exasperated heart) didn’t take sides. That’s because he knew that both groups were being knuckleheads. Each of them needed to get out of their pride. So, Paul cut them each some humble pie and dished it out.

Who is in and who is out is none of their concern. And what’s more, you’re never going to really know why some are in and some are out. The reason is that God is going to do what God is going to do. None of the petty posturing amongst each other means anything. In truth, everything is based on God’s call, and not on human decision, race, ethnicity, gender, politics, or anything else. It all comes down to God, not us.

God makes decisions and extends calls to people, all the time, that we don’t like. And Paul knew this. It is, in fact, what kept him humble. Paul understood he didn’t deserve a thing from God; everything good thing he had came from the Lord.

In his conversion from Jewish Saul to Christian Paul, the Apostle felt the sting of rejection from both groups. The Jews saw him as a traitor, a turncoat. The Gentiles didn’t trust him and wouldn’t accept him. But Paul, having had to eat humble pie himself – dished out by Jesus himself – learned to be patient and gentle. (Acts 9:1-5)

Yet, Paul had his boundaries and his limits. And the Roman Church crossed them. It was time for the entire church to hear a “suck it up, buttercup,” speech.

For the Jewish Christians, they were never “in” just because they were Abraham’s descendants. Abraham was called by God; therefore, everyone is called by God and not the other way around – and God calls whomever God chooses to call. There was nothing in Abraham to warrant a good choice. But God chose him anyway. And if God wants to take some of the Jews, the “chosen” people out, God will do it, because God isn’t accountable to us.

For the Gentile Christians, they weren’t brought “in” because of their own choice. Before they ever had a chance to choose God, God chose them. They were lost in darkness, far from God. But God, by sheer mercy and grace, called the Gentiles. And now that the Gentiles are “in” they can just as easily be “out” if God so chooses.

“The wonder is not that some are saved and others not, but that anybody is saved at all. If we receive what we deserve (judgment) or if we receive what we do not deserve (mercy), then in neither case is God unjust.”

John R.W. Stott

All of this is more than a bunch of power politics from the ancient world; these same dynamics impact us today in quite similar ways.

Any group of people who enjoy privilege over another group needs a slice of humble pie. Any group who continually disparages those in authority also needs a slice of humble pie.

In reality, there are times when every single one of us – including every community, institution, organization, corporation, and nation – needs a stiff reminder of who we really are, why we are really here, and what we are really supposed to be doing.

To eat humble pie means to acknowledge one’s mistake or wrongdoing and accept the humiliation that goes with that acknowledgement. We need to confess our sins and complicity in a host of the world’s ills. And we need to acknowledge that our awful predicaments aren’t just somebody else’s fault; we caused the crud.

We need the humility to ask for help; the humility to work with others very different from ourselves; and the humility to realize we could make the same mistakes again, if not for the grace of God.

Amongst us humans, we are all a community of equals. Yet, amongst God, none of humanity is equal to divinity. A clay pot has neither the right nor the ability to question the potter; they aren’t on the same level.

To enjoy divine privileges never gives us the right to show human prejudice. So let us be people who help one another live according to justice, mercy, and humility – for these are the very things which God calls us to embrace. (Micah 6:8)

Disturb us, Lord, when we are too well pleased with ourselves, and so, disparage others.
Disturb us, Lord, when with the abundance of things we possess, we lose our perspective and believe we are the masters of our own fate.

Disturb us, Lord, to dare more boldly by doing justice, loving mercy, and walking humbly with Jesus, in the enablement of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

To Be, or Not to Be (Psalm 28)

Only you, Lord,
    are a mighty rock!
Don’t refuse to help me
    when I pray.
If you don’t answer me,
    I will soon be dead.
Please listen to my prayer
    and my cry for help,
as I lift my hands
    toward your holy temple.

Don’t drag me away, Lord,
    with those cruel people,
who speak kind words,
    while planning trouble.
Treat them as they deserve!
    Punish them for their sins.
They don’t pay any attention
    to your wonderful deeds.
Now you will destroy them
    and leave them in ruin.

I praise you, Lord,
    for answering my prayers.
You are my strong shield,
    and I trust you completely.
You have helped me,
and I will celebrate
    and thank you in song.

You give strength
    to your people, Lord,
and you save and protect
    your chosen ones.
Come save us and bless us.
Be our shepherd and always
    carry us in your arms. (Contemporary English Version)

Today’s Psalm, in the Revised Common Lectionary, is alongside the Old Testament story of Joseph and his brothers in the book of Genesis. While out caring for the vast flocks of sheep and goats, Joseph’s brothers hatched a cabal against their younger sibling. They tossed him into an empty cistern (a deep water well) and intended to leave him for dead.

But when a caravan came along, heading to Egypt, the brothers decided on yet another diabolical plan. So, they brought Joseph out of the cistern and sold him into slavery. And, if that weren’t enough, the hateful brothers kept rolling out the devious scheming by making it look like a wild animal killed Joseph, so that they could hide their shameful guilt from Jacob, their father.

So, we are invited to view the psalm from Joseph’s perspective of frustration and agony, crying out to God. Then, praising the Lord for listening and saving his life – even if it meant becoming a servant in a foreign country.

Although becoming a slave was certainly not an ideal situation, Joseph faced a desperate need, even death, and the Lord saved him from it. And Joseph was encouraged and emboldened by the reality that God was with him, no matter where, nor what the situation.

Joseph, along with the original craftsman of the psalm, David, gave praise to God for hearing their prayers. Whereas we may get lost in anger and want retribution, perhaps our orientation is best directed toward offering praise to God for being with us and saving us from certain death.

This raises several questions, at least for me, about being in situations where I experience being heard by God, protected from ultimate harm, yet still left between a-rock-and-hard-place:

  • Can I praise God just for being heard and listened to? 
  • Do I really need to be healed or delivered? Or do I actually need to be delivered from the need for deliverance? 
  • What if I don’t get everything I pray for? Am I expecting to receive something God never promised? 
  • Will I offer praise and thanksgiving, even if God is silent? 
  • Is my joy in a relationship with God either conditional, or unconditional?

William Shakespeare’s Hamlet (c.1601 C.E.) put the question this way: “To be, or not to be, that is the question.” Hamlet’s soliloquy went on to say:

“Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, ’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance, to dream: ay, there’s the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there’s the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin [knitting needle]?”

Like Joseph left for dead in an empty cistern, Hamlet was miserable and burdened with a profound lack of power to change his circumstances. So, he reflected on life and death in a morbid and melancholy way. It’s not that Hamlet had suicidal ideation, as much as he meditated on what life truly is, and tried to find some meaning within it.

Unlike Joseph, Hamlet cannot find the courage to deal with his frustration and feels stymied with fear of the unknown. He became lost in the injustice of it all.

If we are blatantly honest with ourselves, we much too often have a particular outcome in mind that we want or expect God to do. 

Our hopes become tethered to God doing something extremely specific so that, if it does not come to pass, or does not come quickly, or doesn’t happen as we want, then discouragement, disillusionment, and even depression may settle down in our souls like a lead weight. 

Like Hamlet, we become lost in the shadows of our thinking and ponder some sort of escape.

So, here is another set of questions I am asking myself: 

  • If my adverse circumstances do not change, can I praise God anyway? 
  • Can I, like David, take joy in simply being heard? 
  • Can I find gratitude in all situations? 
  • Do I only express thanks and praise to God when things are going my way? 
  • Am I open to whatever God wants to do in my life, even if it is not what I would choose? 
  • Do I feel that I am above having to put up with the wickedness of this world? 
  • Am I expecting heaven on earth, or am I willing to suffer as Jesus did? 

I honestly believe the answers to those questions will largely determine the trajectory of our spiritual development, our emotional maturity, our mental thoughts, and our overall religious experience.

I praise you, O God, in the good and the bad, the easy and the difficult, the failures and the victories. You are Lord over all things. You are my strength and shield in every circumstance. When I am weak, then I am strong. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Amen.