Thursday, 4 January 2007

Esther 8

1. The Great Reversal – continued
In chapters 6 & 7, we saw a great reversal taking place – the proud and persecuting Haman was humbled and hung while the faithful and reliable Mordecai was favoured and raised by the king. And we noted that such is the way of God: he opposes the proud and gives grace to the humble; he brings low those who trust in themselves but raises those who trust in him.

In the opening verses of chapter 8 that great reversal continues. The estate of Haman is given over to Esther and then the king’s signet ring that had been given to Haman is placed instead on Mordecai’s hand and Esther appoints him over Haman’s estate. Then, in v.15, we see Mordecai leaving the palace clothed in royal robes and crowned with gold and joy and gladness break out among the Jews who so recently had been weeping and fasting.

We could take the words of Xerxes in 6:9 and re-work them slightly to explain this dramatic reversal: ‘This is what is done for those whom the Lord delights to honour’. He honours those who honour him and that is vividly demonstrated here.

This scene also portrays, in its localised and temporal manner, the destiny of all who put their trust in the Lord and in his Messiah. In Rev. 5:10 we hear a song of praise to the Lamb who conquered by his death; he’s worshipped as the one who with his blood “purchased for God members of every tribe and language and people and nation.” But what was his purpose in doing so? To make them “a kingdom and priests to serve our God and they will reign on the earth”.

Do you see what’s happening there? The purpose of God in creation for humanity to bring God’s good rule to the whole of creation – a purpose which sin had opposed – is now brought to fruition through the death of Jesus. The destiny of all God’s people is to serve him and to rule on the earth. That doesn’t mean domination in this present age but is looking further forward, to the time when the kingdoms of this world have become the kingdoms of our God and of his Messiah.

But of course it does also mean that where we have opportunities now to promote the will and ways of God that we do so. But in saying that we must always bear the larger more perfect picture in mind.

Here are God’s creation purposes being worked out for fallen, sinful humanity through the crucified Messiah. That is a reality to which the great reversal put in place by the Lord in this book so clearly points towards. However the world perceives the church (1 John 3:1 tells us it fails to recognise the reality of our relationship with the Lord) this is our destiny.

2. The Now & the Not-yet
The reversal of fortunes is, of course, massively significant for the whole Jewish people throughout the entire Persian empire. A decree is issued, sealed with the king’s signet ring, that effectively annuls the previous decree that sought their slaughter. And so there is great rejoicing among the Jews. The Lord has bestowed on them “a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair” (Is. 61:3).

This is surely the only possible response to such a great deliverance, to so great a salvation. It ought also to be mirrored in our lives in the light of what God has done for us in Jesus – he has annulled the decree of death for our sins by a decree that says whoever believes in the crucified and risen Messiah is saved. What joy and blessing is ours!

But notice that there is still a great battle to be fought in the next chapter. Yes, the decree has changed everything but it has still got to be worked out on the ground. This is very much a case of the now and the not-yet for the Jewish people. Come the 13th of Adar, they’ll be in the thick of it.

That reality is also the case for us today and is often brought to the fore in the NT. Now we are the people of God, now we are truly saved, but there is still a race to be run and a fight to be fought. That reality is one we must grapple with if we are to make genuine and lasting progress in the life of faith.

Many of our troubles as believers can often be traced to a failure to grasp these twin points: that we are saved and yet we are also being saved. Yes, sin has been overcome by Jesus through his cross but we have got to work out the reality of that in our lives. You see this very much in Rom. 6 – we have been united to Jesus in his death and resurrection and therefore must live in the light of that.

3. A holy war?

But I guess it’s what the Jews had to do that has caused the most discussion on this chapter and the next. The decree that Esther asks the king to make, and which Mordecai takes to all the peoples, is a direct counterpart to the one issued by Haman, point for point, line for line. They are given licence to “destroy, kill and annihilate any armed force, and their women and children, of any nationality or province that might attack them and to plunder the property of their enemies.” (8:12)

This has been a problem, not just for commentators, but for many thoughtful Bible-reading believers. Doesn’t this just reduce the Jews to the level of the Persians? Won’t they now be just as bad as Haman?

Some think that’s the point being made here – that the Jews are not chosen by God because they’re better than the rest but because of his grace. And, of course, that’s true – but is that really the point being made here? Others suggest that we’re meant to make a contrast between the severity of this decree and the ‘softer’ approach of the NT. Again, there is a need to bring the NT into the equation but not perhaps in that way.

Just what should we make of this holy war? And not only this one here but those throughout the OT? Can they be justified or do we need to steer people away from these less presentable parts?

That is a very big topic to try to handle and we can’t do it justice on this occasion but let me try to sketch something of an answer. In terms of the decree itself, we ought to notice that it is defensive and only permits the Jews to act in order to protect themselves. That alone is worth bearing in mind here. But there are other significant points we need to make and bear in mind. Let me mention 2 of them.

i) God has a right to judge people, as and when he chooses to do so and will do so fairly and with complete justice. His calling of his people to arms in the OT has that as an aspect to it; Israel fights the Amorites when their sin has reached its full measure (see Gen. 15:16). Who of us can tell the Lord when and how he should judge? What we know for sure is that the judge of all the earth will do right.

ii) The whole progress of salvation history needs to be kept in mind. Why does the Lord choose to defend and protect the Jews? Why does he drive out nations before them? Because he’s at work through the Jews to bring healing and salvation to all the nations of the earth and to every people group.

That is why he turns his guns on Israel when they turn aside to idols and sin against the Lord. They cannot be allowed to do so; the glory of God and the whole future of humanity is at stake. And that is also why he doesn’t make an end of them but remains faithful to his covenant and brings the exile to an end.

This battle in Persia is tied to the Lord’s purposes of salvation for the whole world. That’s why he decrees the preservation of his people. It also explains why the battle is so intense – the nations’ hatred of Israel in the Bible is not simple nationalism but spiritual warfare.

But the OT is only part of the picture. We need to see where the whole story is heading. God’s holy war against sin and evil reaches its climax on the cross of Calvary; God’s faithfulness to his covenant promises to redeem the world climax in the death of his son as a sin offering. At the cross, the justice and love of God are revealed and reconciled.

And so holy war is brought to an end, or at least redefined. The followers of Jesus are not to take up arms to extend his kingdom; violence will never change the hearts of sinful people (v.17 aside). The NT is clear: we do wage war but not with worldly weapons. Rather it is by the Word of God, the gospel, and by prayer and faithful living that we wrestle against powers, not flesh and blood.

The war was won by Jesus, through his cross. We fight in the light of that, seeking to be clothed in the armour of light. That’s our calling.

Esther 6,7

People sometimes say that the Bible is great literature and we are quick to counter by reminding them that it is so much more than that. Of course it is so much more than that but we do need to take the point: the God who caused the Bible to be written is a great artist and we can expect that, in at least some places, the Bible will display amazing literary artistry.

One such place is in this book of Esther. Although ch.4 was very significant in terms of the story, it is in chapters 6&7 that the issues raised are settled (in principle). Not only can we see that in terms of how the story flows but also in how the book is structured.

There are 3 pairs of feasts in the book, the middle pair being these two feasts given by Esther for Xerxes and Haman. Structurally, the whole story hinges around what happens between the banquets given by Esther; this is the heart of the book.

And then we notice that the annals of Xerxes, the records about his reign get mentioned 3 times; again, the second instance (i.e. the middle one) is here in ch.6.

In these ways and more, the author of Esther wants us to see that this is the heart of the book, that here is where the issues are being decided. Great literary skill is being put in the service of the truth and together they combine to speak with power and urgency to us.

1. The humble honoured; the arrogant abased
In terms of those issues, we’re going to look in the first place at the way the big picture is played out here. Put simply, we see here the outworking of a principle that Jesus often referred to in his ministry: God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble. Here we see, in Mordecai and Haman, the humble honoured and the arrogant abased.

And the point is made with great power and irony. After Esther’s first banquet, the king can’t sleep and asks for the records of his reign to be read to him – we’d feel certain that would send us to sleep but Xerxes probably has other things in mind.
Whatever his reason, he hears again of what Mordecai did to warn him of the attempted coup and ask what has been done to honour Mordecai. Of course, the answer is nothing; he has been entirely overlooked.

Just then, Haman arrives, bright and early to get the king to agree to have Mordecai killed. But the king asks what should be done for the one the king delights to honour – Haman straight away thinks he means him but boy is he in for a shock! The king orders Haman to go out and robe Mordecai and lead him in honoured procession through the town.

How striking is God’s way of honouring those who honour him! How deeply ironic that Haman should have his murderous plans brought to nothing. But there is worse yet in store for Haman. When he tells his family what has happened, they at least recognise that he’s onto a loser because he is fighting a Jew – God is with Mordecai so Haman’s case is lost.

And it is. At the next feast, Xerxes asks Esther for her petition and learns that Haman has set in motion the plan to exterminate the Jews, Esther included. His fate is quickly sealed – with great irony, he is impaled on the giant pole he had intended to slaughter Mordecai on.

This is the way of the God of the Bible. Those who are oppressed and who look to him for help will be heard. Those who oppose the Lord in their pride will be brought low; very low.

That principle functions as both a comfort and a challenge. Here is one writer expresses both those aspects: “In our darkest hours we can be assured of our final destiny of glory with Christ. We can be assured that the reversal of circumstances we so crave will one day be ours. By contrast, no matter how prosperous or powerful, those who are not in Christ will ultimately also suffer a reversal of fortune. Like Haman, they will find themselves caught in a web of destruction that hindsight will show to be of their own making. It can happen at any time.” (Jobes p.162)


2. How God Works

That is the big picture of these chapters but it is important that we also pay close attention to the smaller details which form that larger picture.

How does the Lord work his purposes out here? Is it through human ingenuity and plotting? Certainly, as we saw last time, Esther is very careful how she approaches the situation and that is still the case here. She is careful not to accuse the king of doing wrong (he after all signed the edict) but puts the blame where it really lies, with Haman.

But however wisely and prudently Esther acts, the show belongs to God. And the one who can work mighty miracles to deliver his people (as he so often did) chooses here not to do so; rather, he works through the seemingly insignificant detail of a sleepless night.

Had Xerxes not had that disturbed night, who knows what the outcome might have been. But he was awoken; and, when he asked for the chronicles of his reign to be read, it just so happens that he hears about Mordecai. God is at work, acting to deliver his people, not through human might or ingenuity, nor by mighty miracle but in quiet and unexpected ways.

As the hymn says, “This is your God!” This is the God who worked in the life of Jesus through a combination of the ordinary and the miraculous in order to effect our rescue from sin. Here is the God who, in ways seen and unseen, drew us to himself.

And here is the God who is still at work in our lives, in the life of his church – yes, in large and surprising ways but also in quiet ways and through seemingly insignificant events. Isn’t this just what Jesus was teaching in the parables of the mustard seed and the yeast? Small events, hidden from sight, yet with greatly important outcomes.

Doesn’t this mean we can trust the Lord to be at work in our lives as his people in the most unexpected of ways? And doesn’t this give a renewed sense of significance to what we might think of as trivial or mundane?

3. To pity or to punish?

God is at work, in his providence and through the hero of this book, Queen Esther. But there are some who believe Esther fails badly in this scene. When the king flies into a rage and decides that Haman’s fate is sealed, they suggest that Esther should have interceded on behalf of Haman, vile though he was. She was in a position to pity him but instead opts to punish.

Are they right to make that criticism? There are a number of points to bear in mind here.

Firstly, in general terms, there is a time to pity but there is also a time to punish. God’s grace will not always be extended (to individuals or the human race at large) and his justice will not always be held back.

As someone has rightly asked, “Is pity always a virtue? And is absence of it always a character flaw (especially in a woman)? Perhaps it is in this very moment that Esther exhibits her greatest strength of character and fulfils her highest calling.” (Jobes p.167)

And then, more specifically, we need to remember there is a larger OT storyline being worked out here. Haman, as we have been made aware, is an Agagite, a descendent of the king that Saul should have slain but allowed to live (Samuel had to finish the job). Is Esther aware of that and ready now not to make the same mistake?

She had a position of responsibility, both in the Persian kingdom and in relation to the Jews and their history (with which the whole destiny of the world is connected). Esther plays her part well here; there is a time for justice. God is good to those who seek him but all must seek him “while he may be found”.

Esther 5

1. Gladrags & Grace
Esther told Mordecai that she would have a go – she would go in to see the king but it would be at great personal peril. Xerxes was hardly a model king and could be quite unpredictable; an artefact from that time shows the king on the throne holding his sceptre and behind him stands a guard with an axe, ready to do the king’s will.

So it would be quite understandable if Esther pulled back, that further reflection had convinced her not to go through with it. But that is not so. She has fasted and prayed and now takes the bold step of standing in the inner court, in full view of the king.

Esther has chosen to play the part of a faithful Jew by playing the part of the Persian Queen. We read in v.1 that she “put on her royal robes” (more literally, ‘put on royalty’) and then went and deliberately stood in the inner court where the King would see her.

To be faithful to her Jewish heritage and to take her stand as one of God’s people, she did not need to renounce her position in the world but rather use it, as Mordecai had encouraged her to do. And Esther does just that to the very best of her ability – she approaches the King as the Queen.

This isn’t a case of playing worldly power games; rather, this is what it looks like to be as wise as a serpent and as harmless as a dove. She is doing what Jesus urged his followers to do – “use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves”.

There is a lesson here for us to grasp. In this life, we are given positions of responsibility, of varying sorts. To be faithful as believers does not necessarily mean abdicating those positions but rather seeking to use them as best we can for the sake of the gospel. That doesn’t mean a crass abuse of our position (e.g. buying everyone on the firm a Bible with company funds) but rather well thought-out and sensitive witness and testimony to the grace of God and the blessings of honouring Jesus as Lord.

Esther puts on her gladrags but she does so while trusting in God’s grace. And his grace was certainly active in this scene, for when the king sees her he holds out the sceptre to her, permitting her to come into his presence and asking her what she wants.

She can ask for up to half the kingdom and he’ll give it to her (that was not literally meant but was indicating a generous spirit toward her). What causes him to do that? His heart is in the hand of the Lord and he turns it wherever he wishes. God honours those who honour him; that’s a fact. It may not always be affirmed how we might hope it to be but it is always true and it is so here with Esther.

Yes, Esther is right to be active; yes, she needs to be wise in her approach, but without the intervention of God, her cause is hopeless. The life of faith is 100% God and 100% us – we work our salvation out with fear and trembling, knowing that God is at work in us.

2. Prayer & Purpose
With that combination of gladrags and grace, Esther finds herself in the king’s presence. What happens next may be quite unexpected: Esther invites the king, along with Haman, to a banquet. And later, when they were enjoying the food and wine, she tells the king she’ll make her request at a further banquet.

This is unexpected because we might have thought she would at once beg the king for mercy on behalf of the Jews. Quite why Esther chooses this more roundabout way is not clear; what it does show is that her fasting and praying has led to her behaving in a very careful, thought-out way. She’s got her script together and is working to plan.

Just as our responsibility and God’s grace go together, so too do our praying and our planning. Some might suggest that there is no need for Esther to be quite so careful or constrained – hasn’t God said he will give us just what we need, when we need it? She should just trust God and say whatever he gives her in the moment.

There are some who would say that also applies to the preaching of God’s Word – there’s really no need for detailed preparation, since Jesus promised to guide his disciples into all truth and the Spirit will give the words as necessary.
By extension, the same could be said about our witnessing to others about Jesus – don’t worry what to say, don’t think ahead just trust and he’ll give you the words to speak.

As a preacher, that sounds immensely attractive. But as a preacher who wants to be biblical, it doesn’t hold water. Jesus did promise his disciples to lead them into the truth – and so we have the NT; he did promise that his Spirit would give them the words to speak when they were hauled into court – and he did so; the book of Acts more than makes that clear to us.

But that is a far cry from suggesting preachers don’t need to bother preparing to preach or that we don’t need to give careful thought to how we might witness in different situations. It’s a far cry from suggesting that we need not bother to think ahead of how we will handle potentially difficult situations and conversations.

Of course we must trust God; of course he is able to, and does, give us words to speak and help us in a thousand ways. But that doesn’t remove our responsibility to prepare as best we can. Praying and planning go hand in hand, just as they did here with Esther.

3. Pride & Pain
Esther prayed and trusted God’s grace; she planned well and acted accordingly. While we have to wait to see what her exact plan is, we can see that it has an immediate impact on Haman. He thinks he’s not only well-up in the king’s opinion but also now in Esther’s. As far as he can see, his star is on the rise.

But his enjoyment of the moment is choked when he sees Mordecai still refusing to honour him. And he goes home utterly beside himself with rage and unable to appreciate what he thinks of as his blessings. The only way his family can console him is to suggest that he gets a gallows built and has Mordecai hung on the next day.

What we’re seeing here is the real nature of sin and what it does to human beings who are consumed by pride and self-importance. Here we see rage against God and his people destroying Haman as it flares and burns so passionately.

The spiritual warfare in which we are engaged is not a minor conflict, it isn’t what footballers refer to as ‘handbags’; it is utterly serious because the opposition of a hostile world to the one true God is implacable.

How can God’s people survive where there is such intense hatred and loathing? Notice what v.1 tells us: Esther goes to the king “on the third day”. Rather rings a bell doesn’t it? Is this going to be the beginning of a kind-of resurrection for the Jews? Will this moment herald the rising of their hopes for deliverance? It would seem so.

Our God is a God who intervenes and delivers his people. He has done so consistently throughout history but, supremely, he did so through the cross and resurrection of Jesus. That’s where all our hope lies; it’s also where the only hope for the world lies.

But the wretched picture of Haman and his hatred is also a solemn reminder of the sinfulness of all our hearts. How often are we robbed from enjoying the genuine blessings of God by jealousy or pride? And given that is so, what hope can there be for people like us?

Someone has helped us with that with these words: “Had God not extended the cross of Jesus Christ to the world, all would die in his presence. ‘On the third day’ after the final judgement transpired on the cross, Jesus Christ arose to imperishable life, guaranteeing safety to enter God’s presence to all who reach out in faith to touch that cross-shaped sceptre.” (Jobes p.147).

That’s where all our hope lies – in the grace of God demonstrated in his Son, in the cross and resurrection of our Lord. That ought to give us more than enough cause to rejoice today and to return to our callings with fresh energy and vigour, to the glory of God. Amen.

Esther 4

The Jewish community in Persia is in a very dangerous situation. The king has issued a decree for their slaughter, at the instigation of Haman, as he raged over the refusal of Mordecai the Jew to bow down before him.

Mordecai’s reaction to the decree of the king is, understandably, one of shock and horror. We’re told that he “tore his clothes, put on sackcloth and ashes and went out into the city, wailing loudly and bitterly” (v.1). We can’t say for sure but perhaps his reaction was deepened by a realisation that his actions have contributed to the crisis coming upon his people.

In addition to that, we’re also told “there was great mourning among the Jews, with fasting, weeping and wailing” (v.3). That isn’t an unexpected response but what is noticeable, in Biblical terms, is how closely this resembles the words of Joel 2:12ff.

That correspondence between the description of the Jews in v.3 and the words of Joel helps us to see what is going on here. In Joel, the problem is the people’s sin; they brought judgement on themselves and are being encouraged to turn back to the Lord and to discover his mercy.

Here, in Persia, the Jews are in exile because of their sin (although many have, by now, returned to Judah). And we hold in mind the possibility that both Esther and Mordecai have made bad decisions – certainly, Mordecai could have been more peaceable in his response to Haman.

So the allusion to Joel 2 is reminding us that, when we are opposed because the world is hostile to God and to his people, when we ourselves may well have exacerbated the situation and failed the Lord, we are not without hope. This is what the Lord says: “Return to me with all your heart, with fasting and weeping and mourning”. And why? “For he is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love” (Joel 2:12f).

Situations that may seem hopeless to us, that seem to have spiralled well beyond our control, are not hopeless for this reason: God is merciful and invites us to turn to him in our need, to return to him from our sin. His invitation is as genuine as his grace.

But when we do that, when we return to the Lord and depend on him, looking to him for mercy, we’re not necessarily to be passive in waiting to be delivered. Mordecai clearly casts himself upon the Lord for help but at the same time, when his state of mind becomes known to Esther, he takes the opportunity to ask her to help. God’s mercy and our actions are not incompatible

Who knows…?
Mordecai is trusting God for help but that doesn’t mean he is going to be passive. When Esther tries to find out what the problem is, he urges her to ask the king for mercy. The exchange between them at this point makes some very important points that we must grasp.

Mordecai urges her to go to the king but Esther is reluctant to do so. Anyone who did that without being asked by the king was in great danger. And Esther has not seen the king for 30 days now – a suggestion that maybe she is no longer flavour of the month, at least not as strongly as before.

Esther reticence is quite understandable. If she just bursts into the king’s presence, she’s likely to anger him, perhaps leading to her losing her life and certainly not delivering the Jews. Common sense tells you to look for another way.

But Mordecai isn’t having any of that. If she doesn’t speak up, her family will be lost but “relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place” (v.14). Quite what Mordecai means by the other Jews being saved but Esther and her family lost is not immediately clear. What we can say is that his hope is in God to deliver his people, one way or another.

Esther can choose to sit back if that’s what she wants but she will lose out if she does so, at least in how Mordecai understands the situation. The future of the people is not in doubt, but Esther’s is.

Whether Mordecai is right in that last aspect is a moot point but what is certain is that the Lord will always be with his people, to deliver them, although not necessarily as we might think he ought to do so at times. His care for us is undeniable and his wisdom unsearchable; so we can and must trust him to keep his word to us.

But notice what Mordecai says next – words that for many people are the most famous in this book – “And who knows but that you have come to royal position for such a time as this?” (v.14) Mordecai is urging Esther to act; some even suggest he threatens her when he says she and her family are at risk (hardly likely). But as well as urging her to act for that reason, he is also laying before her the possibility that it’s for this very reason, for this exact situation, that God has placed her in the position she’s in.

Notice what Mordecai is saying. He isn’t claiming to have a complete handle on the situation; he isn’t saying, ‘God has told me what you must do.’ Rather, he is encouraging Esther to consider the possibility that God is in this, that this is how his providence is working out.

We can learn a lesson from the way he couches the suggestion. Too often perhaps we think we know just what God is up to, that we know just how to read the signs of his providence, that we are in the know, that we’ve got him sussed. That just isn’t so. We need to be more humble than that; we need to think of emulating David in Psalm 131 when he adopts a position of humility and trust in the Lord.

It’s interesting to compare his words here with Joel 2 again – the same “Who knows?” is found there in v.14 – Mordecai is not saying he knows for certain what will take place but there is a strength in his hope which is borne out of knowledge of God’s character and his promises in scripture.

But as well as learning from how Mordecai speaks here, what he says is also of great importance. he is affirming that God is always at work and is doing things we may not see the reason for at the time. Nothing is wasted with him – even the mistakes and wrong choices we make (if that is true of Esther).

This is a powerful point and made all the more so by the fact that the Lord is nowhere mentioned in this book. When he seems to be absent, we can trust that he is still at work; when we can’t see what he may be doing, we can rest in his all-wise providence.

If I die, I die
The point has been powerfully put to Esther that her royal position may have been decreed by the Lord for just this time and for just this purpose, the rescue of her people. She is the only person in the book with 2 names – she is Esther and she is Hadassah; she is the Persian Queen and she is the Jewish girl. Whose side will she take?

Esther faces one of the most crucial moments in her life. This choice is going to define the rest of her days. Such moments do come along for each one of us – perhaps many times in the course of our walk of faith. Maybe the issue seems small or maybe it seems larger – but either way, it will significantly affect our future. Such times, if we’re aware of their significance, can be scary!

What should we do? What can we learn from Esther? Just this: Esther stood up to be counted; she took her place with the Lord’s people; she refused to hide away and pretend it had nothing to do with her. And she does so without knowing what the outcome will be for her personally – “If I die, I die” (v.16). She may well lose her life but that is not going to deter her. Some things are simply right, whatever the cost, and Esther was determined to do the right.

Up to this point in the story, Esther has been passive; others have taken decisions that affected her, whether Xerxes as the king or Mordecai as her guardian. But now the time has come for her to be proactive, to make decisions – and, interestingly, the roles are reversed with Mordecai – he now does what she says. And Esther knows she needs others to help her so she asks that they fast (& therefore pray) for and with her.

Do you want to be encouraged to take your stand like Esther? Listen to these words of one writer:

“The decision to be identified with Christ energises our lives. It gives us a purpose bigger than our own concerns and problems and a hope that goes beyond our own death. It transforms us into people loved by the Holy Spirit, human agents of God’s grace and love in the world…By sustained obedience to God’s Word, which the apostle Paul calls ‘the renewing of your mind’ (Rom 12:2), God’s promise of his transforming work in our own lives is realised and touches the lives of others in ways we can neither control nor predict.” (Jobes, Esther, NIVAC, p.141).

Take your stand, in whatever situation God has placed you. Previous failures and sin do not debar you from honouring God today. So why not do so?

Esther 2:19 - 3:15

Before we continue with the story before us, I want to make a couple of further comments on what we looked at last week. Firstly, I came across something that expresses the point I was trying to make last week regarding Esther’s choice, and it puts it far better than I could or did do (quote Jobes pp.114,5).

Then, secondly, notice the details of 2:18. Esther is elevated into the king’s affections and all the people benefit from it. We need to remember that Esther is a Jew, a descendant of Abraham to whom God said, “All peoples on earth will be blessed through you”. This small detail reminds us that God’s purpose still stands and was being worked out, even in ancient Persia.

1. Mordecai: A Good Citizen
Onto the next scene. The virgins are assembled a second time for Xerxes (his choice of Esther is not to the exclusion of all others) and “Mordecai was sitting at the king’s gate”. That would be a good place to try to keep an eye out for Esther (cf. 2:11) but we’re also being told something far more significant (and in case we miss it, it gets repeated in v.21). To sit in the gate implies that a person has some kind of official position relating to the court of the King.

Maybe Mordecai got to be where he was as a result of being Esther’s cousin; maybe not. But what is certain is that he was not a man who withdrew from engaging with life in pagan Persia; he did not retreat into an other-worldly pietism. Mordecai played his part in the life of the nation and a significant one at that.

What we see him doing here is just what the Lord had urged his people to do in Jer. 29:4-7 – he was seeking the welfare of the city, he was honouring the king. This is quite striking given his Jewish identity but even more so given what has happened to Esther (the LXX suggests that he would like to have married her).

But Mordecai is not a man consumed with desire for revenge. He is not out to destabilise the king; in fact, we’re told that the opposite is true – he overhears of a plot to assassinate the king and, through Esther, reports it to the king.

Here is a Jew standing up for a pagan king and one who had taken and used his beloved cousin at that! The contrast here is quite marked – those who oppose the king (Vashti, Bigthana and Teresh) are Persians; the ones who stand by the king are Jews.

Peter urges us in his first letter to “honour the king”; Paul reminds us that ‘the powers that be’ are put there by God himself. Mordecai is a man who recognises that and who is able to entrust the future of his people to the care of God, even while he serves the pagan king with a robust loyalty.

The example of Mordecai at this point is significant and needs to be taken to heart. He was not into protest politics but neither was he withdrawn from active engagement in the society where he had been taken.

But just because he was a good citizen didn’t mean he would get what was due him. To act as he did was worthy of reward (as 6:3 makes clear). But although his action was recorded, Mordecai wasn’t
rewarded. In fact, just when we expect to hear that the king has favoured him, we read instead that he honoured Haman!

Life is not straightforward. We must take God’s Word seriously and do all we can to live quiet and productive lives. We must seek the welfare of the society we live in. But there are no guarantees that our efforts will be successful and, if they are, that we will be rewarded in some way. Life in this world is often unjust – we need to recognise that and be prepared to live with it.

2. Haman and hatred: the clash of kingdoms
Haman is honoured where Mordecai isn’t. We aren’t told why the king honours him but we are told something of his pedigree: Haman, the son of Hammedatha, was an Agagite, a people also known as Amalekties and some of the longest-standing enemies of the Jews.

And the events that unfold show us just how deep that ancient hostility runs. When Haman feels slighted by Mordecai, he vents his fury not simply on the man but on the whole people. This scene is very disturbing and it leads us into a bigger biblical perspective.

Regarding that larger perspective, someone has written that “An assault on God’s covenant people at anytime in human history is really an attack on the authority, power and character of God himself.” And that attack on God himself springs from a source deeper than the human heart. What we’re seeing here is yet another instance of the war waged by the serpent upon the Lord which issues in terrible violence upon his people (see Rev. 12).

We’re to seek the welfare of the city but at the same time we’re not to be naïve about life in this world. We’re in a warfare situation and we can expect to be the targets of some very fierce opposition.

As we see the story of Haman’s rage against the Jews unfold, we need to remember that this isn’t just about one mean-spirited and hard-hearted man; this is about a whole spirit of opposition to God and his purposes and people. Our wrestling is not against flesh and blood but against principalities and powers – but those powers often manifest their enmity against God and his people through flesh and blood, through characters such as Haman.

We need to know that. We need to be ready for that.

3. Mordecai: A right to hate?
But one of the big issues that this chapter then forces us to face is how we handle the inevitable tension that exists in this world and the antipathy demonstrated by so many against the church.

Mordecai refuses to kneel down and honour Haman which the king has said should be done. Why does he do that? It isn’t a case of Jewish sensibilities over idolatry, for Mordecai no doubt would bow down to the king. And the same verse in Peter that tells us to honour the king also tells us to “show proper respect to everyone”.

The writer wants us to know that Mordecai’s reaction to Haman is a result of the ancient hostilities that existed between the Jews and the Agagites; that’s why we get to know Haman’s ancestry.

The big question that we need to ask – and which the author clearly raises but doesn’t necessarily answer for us – is whether it was right and wise for Mordecai to refuse to honour Haman.

Certainly he wasn’t worthy of such honour – but, frankly, neither was the king! So what should Mordecai have done? Is it possible that he could have honoured Haman without feeling that he had somehow defiled himself and compromised the faith? There seems no reason to suggest that he could not have done so.

Which leads us to ask and reflect upon whether the stands we take on various issues are principled and mandated by scripture or whether they’re down to personality and mood? If it is the latter, we need to be aware that our imprudence may put others in difficulty and cause problems for the gospel.

We need to stop and think very carefully about what the Lord expects of us in our relations with the world. He clearly wants us to be free from idols and not be deceived into worshipping false gods (such as prestige and power). But he also calls us to be salt and light, to be effective and attractive in our whole-life witness.

And at the heart of that witness is to be an attitude of peacemaking, of turning the other cheek, of gentle answers turning away wrath. Is it too harsh to suggest Mordecai could have done better by heeding Prov. 25:21f?

But we can also sympathise with his situation. He may well have felt trapped by ancient hostilities and unable to break free. His ancestor, Saul, did wrong and compromised by allowing Agag to live; maybe Mordecai is fearful of making a similar mistake? If we feel trapped by circumstances or history, we need to look to God for his freedom.

4. So who’s in charge?
Whether Mordecai should have taken a gentler approach or not, his refusal to honour Haman brings down the full fury of the state against the Jews. They are in grave danger. The lot is cast and a date is set for the destruction of the Jews and decree is written out on the eve of Passover.

Prov 16:33 tells us that though the lot is cast into the lap, its every decision is from the Lord and Passover was a reminder of his covenant love to Israel. Would he come through for his people? Or has Mordecai been just too foolish? We must let the book teach us!

Esther 2:1-18

1. Idolatry and Identity
We saw from ch.1 that the world in which Xerxes reigned was a dangerous one for all who crossed his path. His reign was a parody of the real and blessed reign of God and of his anointed. In this second scene, the ground for which was prepared by that first chapter, we see that point being further developed.

After 4 years (during which he has suffered a humiliating defeat at the hands of Greece) Xerxes remembers Vashti (is he regretting his decision to banish her?) and on the advice of his attendants calls for a search to be made “for beautiful virgins for the king”. His harem is going to be enhanced with the loveliest virgins in the land and Xerxes will have free choice as and when he wants of any of them.

This kind of scene would probably produce lurid headlines in our tabloid press (‘King beds new girl every night!’). It is a scene that should make us recall Genesis 2 and shudder at the deconstruction of creation. Here is rampant idolatry, with the creature’s lust knowing no bounds (nb: remember Solomon’s harem, too).

Secular history also tells us that boys fared as badly as girls – 500 were gathered and castrated each year to serve as eunuchs. This is a world very far removed from the just and joyous reign of a good Creator. This is the world in which our story unfolds.

But the whole story of scripture is that there is another story being worked out within history and in the midst of a world in which raw power is used to exploit and oppress. That story is the story of a people chosen by God for the sake of the world – and in vv.5-7 we see that people highlighted through the introduction of two central characters in this book, Mordecai and Hadassah his cousin.

The author reminds us that the Jews are in Persia because of the exile which was a result of their sin. The God who chose them to be his people takes very seriously the conditions he laid down for their relationship – if they sinned, they would lose their home in the land. But if they sought him again, he would rescue them and return them.

That return has, in part, taken place and so the question is implicitly raised: will the Lord also rescue his people who have not returned to the land? Can he be relied upon in any and every situation or can his people out-sin his grace? Is he faithful and, if so, how does that faithfulness intersect with his people’s responsibilities?

Those deep and searching questions are opened up in this story and are, of course, of great interest to us today. We, too, live in the exile of a sinful world as a minority people. We, too, fail the Lord and struggle at times to see his ways. What does this chapter teach us about our response in such a situation?

And notice that the main character is given two names – her Jewish name, Hadassah, and her Persian one, Esther. She lives in two realms at once, there are twin contexts for her life and the choices that she makes are made where those two realms meet and clash. That’s the context for our lives too. How she manages that will have much to teach us.

2. Providence: The Unseen God is Active
With those twin markers laid down, this chapter steadily unfolds one of the controlling themes of the book: the unseen, unmentioned God is active and in control of events. That point is made in a number of ways in this chapter:

• the extensive use of the passive voice shows that here are people being swept along by circumstances beyond their control – and that applies to Xerxes too.

• Esther’s beauty is clearly a gift from God (v.7)

• both Hegai (v.9) and Xerxes (v.17) are impressed by her

What is also interesting is that God’s providence is being worked out over time – as we noted, four years has gone by since the events of ch.1. We do well to remember the lesson Peter taught us – with the Lord a day is as a thousand years and vice versa.

The clear focus on God’s providence is saying that something far bigger than choosing a new queen is being played out here. The God who made the universe and who called Abraham and formed Israel is still active in the lives of his people. This God is still – even when it is unseen – working his purposes out.

We need to take the appropriate comfort from that.

3. How human actions intersect with God’s sovereignty
But there is a very big point that needs to be set alongside the control of God over all history. This chapter (no less than the whole book) raises the question of how his control intersects with the choices and decisions of some very fallible human beings. The fact that there is someone in ultimate control in this universe does not mean it’s a case of que sera sera and our choices are irrelevant.

But what are those choices?

• Esther chose not to stand against the system that chose her with the other virgins;

• They chose to conceal Esther’s identity as a Jew (v.10)

• Esther ‘played the game’ and made herself as beautiful as she could for the king (v.15)

There are interesting parallels here with the book of Daniel (which of course shares a similar setting): Esther has two names, she is taken into the circle of the King and trained in the ways of the Persians but, unlike Daniel and his friends – at least at this stage – she doesn’t make any objection to what is suggested to her but simply follows the advice of the man in charge.

Now, notice two crucial points:

i) The choices made by Mordecai and Esther are ambiguous – some of us might agree with them, others might not – e.g. ‘marrying’ a pagan king. But what of, say, Jer. 29:4ff? The fact that there is room to question what they did does not mean it is open season on them and their ethics. The author of the book doesn’t offer us an opinion on what they do, he simply describes it.

This is the nature of life in a sinful world – sometimes we just don’t know what to do for the best; sometimes we feel trapped by events and unable to decide as we would wish to; and sometimes we just want to take the easy road.

If we’re tempted to judge Esther and Mordecai, in the absence of any definite criticism in this book, we do well to recall Paul’s words in Romans 14:4 about not judging another’s servant.

We should also bear in mind the example of the Hebrew midwives and Rahab who all took less than straightforward decisions and yet were commended by God. That isn’t to say situational ethics are the order of the day; it’s just to notice that things are not always as straightforward as they seem and a little humility would go a long way.

ii) The second crucial point we need to handle here is that Esther (and to a lesser extent Mordecai) makes decisions without a direct word from God in the situation – and so must we.

Of course, where scripture is clear, we simply need to follow what the Lord says but often we will discover that although there are clear principles in scripture, it doesn’t deal in the specifics as often as we might like.

In those times, what are we to do? Do nothing until, somehow, the Lord gives us a definite word? That might sound the spiritual thing to do but we aren’t promised any special words from God. The answer of scripture is this: “Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him and he will direct your paths.” (Prov. 3:5,6)

We confess our ignorance to God and trust him to direct our paths as we make our choices and act in faith. To do nothing until we hear God’s voice will often be a recipe for relying solely on our emotions and imagining that they are from God; they may not be.

Esther had no direct word from God but she acted. Was she wise or foolish? It’s hard to say. One thing we do know: she was not aware of how the situation was going to develop. The important thing always, not just when we cannot see the way, is to commit ourselves into the hand of God. He is always active in his gracious purposes. As Moses wrote, “His works are perfect and all his ways are just.”

Esther 1

Some people don’t much like the book of Esther. In the first 7 centuries not one commentary was written on it; Calvin never preached on it and Luther lumped it with 2 Maccabees and said “I wish they had not come to us at all, for they have too many heathen unnaturalities.” Hardly an auspicious start to a series on Esther!

If we ask why it has produced such reactions, the answer probably lies in the fact that it never once mentions God as well as posing some awkward questions that are rather hard to answer.

Thankfully, there are a number of good commentaries available to help us wrestle with the book and a number of them make the point that part of the genius of the book is the way the apparent absence of God helps us to grasp the reality of his all-wise providence, even when unseen. And doesn’t his felt absence chime with our own experiences in life?

The book has many urgent and important lessons to teach us about God and the life of faith. Specifically, it teaches those lessons in the context of exile. The setting is the Persian empire, with not even a glance towards Jerusalem and the temple. Where the books of Ezra and Nehemiah are centred there, the concerns of Esther remain elsewhere. And that means it has valuable lessons to teach us who live our lives here as aliens and strangers.

But the fact that there are Jews still in the land of exile after others have returned raises other questions. Why are they still there? Don’t they want to go back? Can they still count on God to rescue and help them?

Two further general points before we get to the text itself. At least one commentator suggests that it might be best to preach on the book by taking the themes it raises rather than simply following the story. But however hard it might be from a preaching perspective, I feel we must allow the story to make its own points at its own pace. Part of the force of those points – even if they are repeated – comes out in the way the story unfolds.

Bound up with that, we may find a number of loose ends and grey areas in the book. Some of us may struggle with that; we like life – and God’s truth & ways – to be neater than that. But as Ecclesiastes reminds us, life is messy and we may not be able to grasp (because the Lord may not choose to show us) how loose ends are tied up and apparent contradictions resolved at last. We’ve got to be prepared to live with that; our faith must be big enough – mature enough – to trust where we cannot see.
Can I whet your appetite for our study of the book by quoting from one commentary? (Jobes pp.48,49) So – chapter 1. In many ways, the role of this chapter is to set the scene and it does so by raising a number of vital issues which we’ll look at together now.

1. Xerxes: power and parody
The opening scene of the book introduces us to one of the principal characters, Xerxes the King. The son of Darius who had promoted the rebuilding of the temple in Jerusalem, it was Xerxes who was ruling when people opposed the rebuilding work in Jerusalem.

What we’re meant to pick up from these verses is just how powerful Xerxes was – he ruled over 127 provinces, including Susa where the Jews lived. And that sense of power is greatly heightened when we’re told that “for a full 180 days he displayed the vast wealth of his kingdom and the splendour and glory of his majesty.” The succeeding description of his palace and gardens shows the lavish nature of his reign – he was top dog in the world of his day.

The description of his palace and gardens is extremely detailed and is only surpassed in scripture by the description of the temple. And that’s a very significant point. What we’re presented with here is a parody of the kingdom of God – here is a king with great power, with lavish and majestic surroundings, who throws a great party for people from all over the world.

Does that remind you of certain parables in the NT and descriptions of the reign of God? Xerxes is trying to occupy a position that doesn’t belong to him; he believes he has all power (secular records show that he organised this great event to raise support for his policies of expansion) and no-one will stand in his way.

The description of Xerxes’ reign in these verses raises a crucial and fundamental question: who’s really in charge in this world? That’s a question the book will answer in surprising ways. But not only was it the question of those times, it remains the question today. The preaching of the gospel in the NT was seen as a direct threat to Caesar who styled himself as Lord and Saviour. Still today many with earthly power take their stand against the Lord and against his anointed one. In fact, it’s the basic stance of all humanity.

Who’s in charge? The answer to that question has, of course, profound implications for our lives and how we will live out our faith. We will find that we have much to learn from this book on that score.

2. The abuse of power makes for a dangerous world

Xerxes was a very powerful man. But how would he use that power? The next scene tells us: under the twin influences of strong drink and overweening pride, he calls for Queen Vashti to be brought out to be displayed for his fellow revellers to see.

But Vashti refuses and Xerxes burns with anger and, after consulting with his legal experts, banishes her forever from his presence, no doubt condemning her to a life of suffering and shame.

This chapter is reminding us of the nature of life in this world. When power is in the wrong hands, the outcome is the abuse of power and the oppression of people made in the image of God.

Not much has changed since the days of Xerxes. The world is a still dangerous place and there is a desperate need for the reign of a just and merciful King. In the gospel, we have the message of just such a King and so we have a message of hope for all who suffer.

And the world is especially dangerous for all who worship the one true Lord. We can expect to face difficulties precisely because there is a cosmic struggle being waged over the question of who’s really in charge.

That means we have urgent questions to address How should we tackle that struggle? What kind of stand do we take, if we’re to take a stand at all? Does the fact we belong to the Lord mean we ought to be exempt from certain kinds of suffering? This book will help us to at least face up to questions like that and direct us in our search for answers.

3. Vashti right or Vashti wrong?
With those questions in mind, we might want to ask whether Queen Vashti provides us with any answers – is she a good role model to follow? Vashti right or Vashti wrong?

There are at least two schools of thought on Vashti. Some commend her for standing up to a bully and see her as a heroine and a role model for all who are involved in abusive relationships. They see this passage as principally teaching about male/female relationships.

Others suggest she is a very poor role model, who ought to have simply obeyed her husband. Luther, for example, encouraged husbands with non-compliant wives in these words: “If she still refuses, get rid if her; take an Esther and let Vashti go, as King Ahaseurus did.” (Shows a great man to have had feet of clay).

Who’s right? In terms of the passage neither is; the passage is not interested in adjudicating on that issue. Too often we rush to take lessons from scripture that it may not be teaching. What we do see being handled here is a bigger issue than male/female relationships - that between Jew and Gentile and the purposes of God in blessing the Jewish nation (which was for the sake of the whole world).

Vashti and her actions serve, in God’s providence, to bring Esther into the story and the entrance of Esther will focus attention on the struggles of the Jews and their need for deliverance – a deliverance which will affirm again the character of God and his commitment to his promises to bless the world through Abraham’s family.

And that sense of a bigger perspective under God’s providential care extends to Xerxes himself. His response to Vashti’s refusal which leads to the choosing of a new queen is also in the hand of God.

The book will have a great deal to say about God’s providence and how it intersects with human actions, both commendable and otherwise. For now, let’s take heart from this passage – it tells us we live in the middle of a spiritual conflict, a conflict that is extremely dangerous but even as it does so it reminds us in no uncertain terms where the real issues lie and whose hand not only turns the pages of history but writes that history too.

Habakkuk 3:1-19

Habakkuk was troubled by evil – in the nation and the evil of those the Lord was raising up to judge them. The Lord’s answer to his impassioned praying was to call for the righteous to live by faith and to show that, far from evil annulling his purposes, the Lord was actively pursuing those purposes and even using human sin and rebellion to further them. Sin would not have the final word; no, the earth would be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.

In this last chapter of the book, we have the final response from Habakkuk to the Lord’s reply. Before we come to the substance of his words, it’s worth pausing to notice its form. Vv.1,19 make it clear that this chapter is written as a psalm and set to music. Here is a heartfelt response and reflection by Habakkuk to what God has said and it is set down in a finely-crafted poetic form, with appropriate musical accompaniment. Let me just say two things about that.

i. Some might think that the ability to write good poetry and music are incidental in the Christian life, that the truth needs no ‘dressing-up’ to make its point. This chapter offers no support for that viewpoint. Here are gifts from God that are harnessed in the service of God.

ii. And the fact that the Lord inspires this composition shows that he furthers his work in us by such means. He made us not only to be able to appreciate poetry and music but such that they can be of positive spiritual benefit to us. Such gifts, therefore, should not be despised but accepted with gratitude and used to God’s glory.

1. In awe of God’s greatness; in need of God’s mercy (vv.1,2)
So, Habakkuk has bared his soul before the Lord and has received his powerful reply. In v.1, he takes his stand with the worshippers of 2:20 and is awestruck by the greatness of God.

He has heard of the Lord’s fame and stands in awe of his deeds. The God who been active in history has, through his words and deeds, made a big impression upon Habakkuk as he has wrestled with the problem of evil in his day.
And as he stands in the presence of God, awed and humbled, Habakkuk prays once more: he asks the Lord to renew his deeds in that day, to do again powerful, redeeming works as he did in former times and, in his wrath, to remember mercy.

Habakkuk knows very acutely the needs of the times. If the situation is going to be changed, it needs God to act in power. But if God acted in power alone, the people of Judah would be consumed, since they deserve God’s wrath. As God’s plans to chastise his people by the Babylonians begin to unfold, Habakkuk pleads for mercy, that they would not be utterly consumed.

Habakkuk is praying for revival, for the LORD to show mercy to his people in the face of their sin. He is looking to the Lord to spare them through the coming calamity and to renew his work among them. He cared enough to enquire in the first place and now he is spiritually-minded enough to engage in passionate praying for revival.

His example is one we do well to emulate.

2. The ground of prayer: the deeds of God (vv.3-15)
Habakkuk grounds his prayer for God’s merciful intervention on the character of God as it has been revealed in history. That is a very important principle for us to grasp. For many, history is a dull subject but, seen from the right perspective, it is far from being so. For those with eyes to see (and the Bible helps us to see clearly) history is full of God and his powerful interventions and mercies.

In very poetic language, Habakkuk portrays the Lord here as the divine warrior, taking his stand against his enemies and delivering his people. Much of the language recalls the exodus from Egypt and the entry into the Promised Land, which were events that the people often recalled to inspire their hope in dark days.

It is possible, and right, for the church today to remember what God has done in the past and so to ask him to intervene in our own day. The basis on which Habakkuk prayed can also be the basis for our own prayers. But there is one area of crucial difference that we need to look at.

Habakkuk asked the Lord to intervene in power and mercy on the grounds of what he had done in the past. But those events were not the ultimate rescue in themselves; the exodus pointed forward to the true deliverance that Jesus alone was to effect through his death.

That means when we pray, it is to be on the basis of the finished work of Jesus. That truth has important implications for how and what we pray.

When we pray for the revival of God’s work in our own day, it must always be with the glad and humble recognition that God has already done the work, he has already won the decisive victory. Our praying is to be not for a decisive victory but for the outworking of what Jesus has already done.

It would be terribly wrong if our praying were ever to give the impression that really, what the Lord has done up till now is not very much indeed, that we are lacking evidences of his power and mercy. All our praying for revival should have the cross at its heart, as the supreme demonstration of the love and power of God and as the decisive, once-for-all victory over sin and evil.

It is also important that we learn from Habakkuk here that we are submitting ourselves to the Lord’s timing. In v.16, Habakkuk says he will wait patiently for calamity to come upon the Babylonians. When it came, that would mean deliverance for the people; he is prepared to wait patiently for that time. In doing so, he is honouring the sovereign rights of the living God.

The fact that our nation is in desperate need does not mean we can dictate to the Lord. He knows what he’s doing, doesn’t he? We can trust that, can’t we?

3. “Endurance inspired by hope” (vv.16-19)
Having prayed for God’s reviving mercy and having laid out the grounds for that hope, in vv.16-19 Habakkuk writes of his (and the people’s?) readiness to wait in hope and even to rejoice in God in the midst of the dark days.

What we’re seeing here is the application of the truth of 2:4: the righteous will live by faith. In the most poetic language, Habakkuk describes the emptiness and the seeming hopelessness of the days he lived in (v.17) but that will not stop him from waiting in genuine expectation and with sincere, unaffected joy in his heart.

How can he say such things? Where does this hope spring from that inspires such endurance on his part? It springs from the reality of the character of God and his powerful interventions in the history of the people. If he could look back to the exodus and resolve to wait in hope and eager expectation, how much more should we, who regularly feast at the Lord’s Table, how much more should we be steadfast in our hope and overflowing in joy?

Yes, the days are evil; yes, the ground seems so hard; yes, we are often at a low spiritual ebb – yet the God who sent his Son into this world to die and rise again will not allow that work to go to waste. The Lord Jesus will see and rejoice in the fruits of his suffering.

Knowing that, we too can be people of genuine hope, a hope that leads to believing prayer and faithful service. All may seem dark and dismal, fruitless and futile, “yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will be joyful in God my Saviour.” It is the Sovereign LORD who is our strength and who make us strong and stable, enabling us to go on the heights. To him be the glory. Amen!

Habakkuk 2:6-20

We began looking at the prophet Habakkuk last week, a man whose heart was aching and whose mind was confused. His trouble centred on the fact that God’s people were living as anything but – the land was filled with violence and shame. What would God about it?

The answer was that he would judge his people by raising up the Babylonians to conquer them. But to Habakkuk that was simply making the matter worse; they were even more evil than the people of Judah. Where was the justice in that?

And, perhaps even more distressing, where would this leave God’s plans to save a fallen world through the nation of Israel, as he had promised to do? No wonder Habakkuk prayed with such feeling.

The answer in 2:1-5 was that God remains in control of the situation and, knowing that, the righteous must live by faith. Habakkuk and others must rest in the character of God and take the long view. What follows in 2:6-20 elaborates the point that the Lord will judge those he had sovereignly used to judge his people.

1. The Justice of God
The first substantial point made here is that the God of the Bible, the living and true God, is not indifferent to sin, whether committed by individuals or nations. Nothing goes unseen by him; he has no blind-eye to turn toward it but takes it all in hand to deal with one day.

And deal with it he will. Sometimes people say, “There’ll be hell to pay” when something’s gone wrong; in this case, it is literally true. Five times, woe is pronounced over those guilty of the crimes listed here. One writer has aptly said that “This series of woes is designed to show that ultimately sin, evil, crime, greed, oppression, debauchery and idolatry are doomed to destruction.”

The simple fact is, as God tells us over and again in the Bible, you reap what you sow. He may use Babylon for his own purposes but their own interest was in boosting their pride and lining their pockets. That kind of behaviour will inevitably have its consequences and so the woes are pronounced.

And so we see that, as each woe is elaborated, the justice in view is one of like-for-like – those who have killed will be killed; those who have plundered will be plundered; those who have ravaged and exposed others will themselves be ravaged.

This is a consistent biblical principle that God has built into the very fabric of creation – nature teaches us the point and time and again it is captured in the Bible for us to ponder. He stands up to the proud but gives grace to the humble.

The God revealed in the Bible is active in the affairs of nations. He cares what happens; although he can as Lord use wickedness to advance his own purposes, he never condones it; rather, as here, he condemns it.

But even as he condemns the evil, of individuals as well as nations, there is sadness in the tone of his voice. It has been noted by scholars that these woes are a parody of a funeral lament and could, therefore, be seen as a taunt. But there is also genuine sadness in the heart of God at the tragedy that befalls the impenitent.

Judgement is necessary and, because it sets things right, is a cause for joy. That is part of the biblical picture; but so too is the sight of the Saviour weeping over impenitent Jerusalem as he contemplates its fate at the hands of the Romans for its sin in rejecting him.

The situation may seem to be getting out of hand to Habakkuk but God remains in control, just as he was when Jesus was slaughtered, just as he is today when all seems so dark and distressing. His justice will prevail and his purposes will not be thwarted.

2. The Glory of God
And here we have, in a famous and thrilling verse, a description of what those purposes ultimately are. People can rage against God and commit the most awful crimes, filling the world with filth and seeming to destroy the last vestiges of its original goodness. Yet, in the face of that, we see asserted here that “the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.”

Could there be any statement more daring or more encouraging against such a backdrop? The earth that is filled with violence and shame will one day be filled with the knowledge of the glory of God!

The term ‘knowledge’ speaks of an intimate and living relationship with God. Here the Lord says that the whole world will be bathed in the wonder of that relationship – to its fullest extent, “as the waters cover the sea”.

There was a time in the OT when the temple was completed and God’s glory filled that house. Here, we read of a time when his glory will fill the earth and his glory will be known and rejoiced in. Sin will not have the last word; God will be known. He will be all and in all.

And this promise and purpose were going to be accomplished through the one of whom it was said by those who knew him, “We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only from the Father, full of grace and truth.”

God’s promises seemed to be hanging by a thread in the dark days of the OT as sin ran riot in Israel. But, in reality, the danger was only apparent – sin was never going to win; God would come in the person of his Son to deal with it through the unveiling of the truth and the grace of God.

God is involved in the affairs of nations, not simply to judge sin and then leave the field. He is involved in order to reclaim his world and to remake it in holiness and righteousness, having saved it through his own Son and his once-for-all death on the cross.

3. The Presence and the Reality of God
That statement was the first of two outstanding declarations about the living God contained in this passage. We close with the second in v.20: “The LORD is in his holy temple; let all the earth be silent before him.”

V.18f describe the utter futility, the nonsense, of idol worship. People make images, bow down to them, put their trust in them and hope to be taught by them.

We can laugh at such folly but it still happens today, as equally foolish and powerless gods are worshipped – gods of money and leisure, of pleasure and gain.

How sad and tragic to see people made in the image of God looking in every other direction for help and blessing. It won’t come; it can’t come. All other gods are idols – useless and lifeless.

But the LORD, the Almighty God, is in his holy temple. The one who made us and all things, the eternal God who existed before us and doesn’t in truth need us, this God is not under threat; he is in his holy temple. He is truly at the centre of the universe and all reality. This is the true picture.

And the call of this verse is for all the earth to be silent before him. The idols are silent because they’re dead and lifeless; this silence is of an altogether different kind – it’s the awe-filled worship of creatures standing before their Maker and gazing on his beauty and majesty, and gladly acknowledging his complete sovereignty and utter worthiness.

Do you stand with them today – in awe before the God who made you and all things, who is high over all, beyond the reach of sin and chaos, whose gracious and redeeming purposes are not under threat but are being steadily worked out?

This is why the righteous can – and must – live by faith.

Habakkuk 1:1 - 2:5

Some Bible books are a bit like acquaintances – they don’t rate as close friends but you do see them from time to time when you’re in the company of your close friends (NT quotations). When you happen to bump into them on their own (via a Bible reading programme?) you may find you don’t really know what to make of them, they seem to speak a different language and seem so different to your close friends. And so you make your apologies and offer to do lunch someday, being careful not to say when or where, and you run-off to find your more familiar friends.

The great shame about that kind of approach to the Bible – quite apart from what it says about our attitude to the one who gave us the Bible – is that we miss out so much. If we would only spend time with these acquaintances, we would find in them a depth we never realised was there, we would find them engaging and profound.

Habakkuk’s book may be one of those acquaintances. It gets at least 3 honourable mentions in the NT – at some very strategic points, no less – but in its own environment it looks less inviting. After all, very little indeed is known about its author and, whilst the historical situation it addresses is discernible, it isn’t dated as many of the prophets are. So we might feel the cards are stacked against us and it would be more prudent to make our visit brief.

I hope a slightly more extended visit over these next weeks will show us how mistaken that is.

1. Habakkuk’s complaint: ‘Lord, you don’t seem to care’
The situation that Habakkuk describes may be distant in time but should be familiar enough in terms of scripture: the people have turned away from God. Not all of them, certainly; there was always a righteous remnant. But sufficient have forsaken him to make the land full of violence and oppression (notice how Habakkuk piles up the adjectives here).

It is that situation which prompts Habakkuk to pray. Before we look at his prayer and the Lord’s response, I just want to suggest that the fact Habakkuk is concerned is worthy of our attention.

It reads as though he is complaining to the Lord, which in a sense he is. We might want to tut-tut but there is a challenge there for us: are we concerned enough about the state of the church and the world to wrestle before God over it? Or are we so wrapped up in the smaller details of our small lives that we are blinkered and have a blind spot in the very place where Habakkuk’s heart bled?

2. The cure is worse than the disease: Is God righteous or not?

So what is Habakkuk so worked up about? In 1:2-4 he lays the situation before the Lord: the land is full of violence and oppression; God’s people are living a lie – they are called by his name but they live as though he didn’t exist.

Given that they are his people and given that he is holy and righteous, Habakkuk wants to know why the Lord hasn’t done anything about it – “Why do you tolerate wrong?”

Maybe he was expecting the Lord to come in mighty reviving power to transform the nation but the answer he receives only leads to further anguish and confusion on his part. In 1:5-11 the Lord tells Habakkuk that he is going to deal with the situation in a way that was scarcely imaginable: he was going to raise up the Babylonians to chastise his people.

But this only intensifies Habakkuk’s sense of confusion. The problem he has is not that the people don’t deserve to be judged but that the cure seems to be worse than the disease. The Babylonians are utter pagans, notoriously violent and destructive; if God raises them up to world dominance then those who are more wicked than Israel will prosper even more (1:12-17).

How can this be right? How does this uphold God’s righteousness?

The Lord’s reply in 2:2-5 emphasises the fact that judgement will one day come. Yes, he will use the Babylonians to chasten his people but they will be responsible for their sins and will one day answer for them in judgement. No one is getting away with anything.

And Habakkuk’s response to this situation must be to rest and trust in the Lord’s sovereign and unsearchable wisdom (2:4).

The lesson for us ought to be clear, too. There are many situations that grieve and confuse us. It is not wrong to take our grief to the Lord and to ask him why. But we must then be ready to allow his word to address us and humble ourselves before the greatness of his power and wisdom. Habakkuk had to do it and so must we.

3. The big picture: If the law is paralysed, what will save us?
But there is a deeper significance to the problem that Habakkuk is wrestling with. In fact, if there wasn’t a bigger picture, it would mean when Paul quotes 2:4 he was guilty of just scanning the OT for a text to make his point, which isn’t how he uses God’s Word.

The bigger picture is tied to the Lord’s purpose in choosing Israel to be his people. That purpose was to bless the world through them, for salvation to come into the world through this people.

For many in Israel, the means for that would be the law, the torah. But as Habakkuk looks at the nation, he sees that the sin of the people has paralysed the law (v.4). If that is so, how will the Lord’s saving righteousness be effected? Is sin going to finally stymie the living God? Is Satan going to win after all?

The point Habakkuk makes here about the law is also made by Paul in Rom. 8:3 when he says “the law was powerless” because “it was weakened by the flesh”. The mere giving of the law to sinful people could never effect their rescue. The law was always going to be powerless to rescue. It could highlight sin but it couldn’t deal with sin.

What answer does the Lord give Habakkuk here? He tells him there is a solution, his righteousness will be vindicated, sin won’t have the last laugh; but that time was then still future: “the revelation awaits an appointed time; it speaks of the end and will not prove false.” Or as Paul so aptly put it, “When the time was fully come, God sent forth his Son…”; “at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly…” (Gal. 4:4; Rom. 5:6).

What the law could never do, God was going to accomplish in the most unexpected way (more remarkable than raising up the Babylonians) - sending his Son in the likeness of sinful flesh to be a sin offering and through him to condemn sin in the flesh (Rom. 8:3).

But that was all future for Habakkuk; he wasn’t told how God would resolve this challenge to his righteousness, to his saving faithfulness. He was only told that one day it would be. What he is told is how he and others should respond: “the righteous will live by his faith”.

They must put their hope in the God of the covenant. Their trust is not to be in the law; if it was, they would be gravely disappointed because sin has paralysed the law and the law is powerless to do anything about it. No; their faith must be in God that he will one day act in person to deal with sin.

Paul’s point in quoting this verse in Rom. 1:17 and Gal. 3:11 is to emphasise that this has always been God’s way of saving; it never was through the law but was always a matter of faith; “The righteous will live by faith”. He, of course, is dealing not with anticipation but fulfilment; the time has come and God has acted to deal the death blow to sin through his own Son dying in place of sinful humanity.

So the righteous, those who put their trust in God, will live by faith. The verse in Habakkuk and as used by Paul is a little ambiguous: it could refer to faithfulness or to faith; it could have God in view or man. Where Paul quotes it in Rom 1:17 it’s very likely that he has both in view, for he speaks of salvation being “from faith, for faith” which many take to mean “from God’s faithfulness to man’s answering faith”.

Today still “the righteous will live by faith”. It is how we come to be united to the Lord Jesus Christ and share in his blessings. But it is also how we are to live our lives: with faith in God, in the dark days when we see no sign that Jesus will return, when we doubt our own salvation, when sin abounds and there seems to be no answer.

The emphasis must always be on trusting God, hoping in his faithfulness that was revealed in Jesus and sealed in the sending of his Spirit.

Is that where your trust is this morning – not just for yourself but for the church and, indeed, for the whole world? “We walk by faith, not by sight”; “The righteous will live by faith.”

Monday, 1 January 2007

A Hermeneutic Of Trust

In Shakespeare's Measure for Measure the self-righteous villain Angelo pronounces a death sentence on Claudio, who is guilty of committing fornication. Claudio's sister Isabella comes to Angelo to plead for the life of her brother, but Angelo, who is trying to manipulate Isabella into bed with him, spurns her suit, saying,

Your brother is a forfeit of the law,
And you but waste your words.


Isabella's reply alludes to the great theme of Romans and calls upon the hypocritical judge Angelo to see his life anew in light of God's judgment and grace:

Why, all the souls that were were forfeit once;
And He that might the vantage best have took
Found out the remedy. How would you be
If He, which is the top of judgment, should
But judge you as you are? 0, think on that;
And mercy then will breathe within your lips,
Like man new made.


Isabella resists the oppressor by applying a hermeneutic of suspicion to his pose of righteousness and by appealing to a hermeneutic of trust in the biblical story of God's mercy. Isabella is a profound interpreter of Scripture. We should follow her example.

Richard B. Hays - The Conversion of the Imagination: Paul as Interpreter of Israel's Scriptures; Eerdmans 2005; p.200f

Loving and Hearing the Text

When I was an undergraduate at Yale University, students flocked to Professor Alvin Kernan's lecture courses on Shakespeare. Kernan's work predated the academy's current infatuation with ideological criticism. Even though it was the late 1960s and we were all living in an atmosphere charged with political suspicion and protest, none of this overtly impinged on Kernan's lectures. Kernan was not a flashy lecturer. What, then, was the draw?

He loved the texts. His teaching method - as I remember it - was simply to engage in reflective close readings of the Shakespeare tragedies and comedies, delineating their rich texture of image and metaphor and opening up their complex central themes - moral, philosophical, and religious. Often, Kernan would devote a significant part of his lecture time to reading the text aloud, not in any highly dramatic manner, but with sensitivity to the text's rhythms and semantic nuances. I would often sit in class thinking, "Oh! ... I hadn't heard that in the text before." And I would leave the class pondering the problems Shakespeare addressed: love, betrayal, fidelity, sacrifice, death, and hope.

Richard B. Hays - The Conversion of the Imagination: Paul as Interpreter of Israel's Scriptures; Eerdmans 2005; p.200

Loving the text so that others truly hear the text. That's a good aim for 2007.

Monday, 18 December 2006

Two thoughts

from John 19:

i) The correlation in v.7 & v.12 of the terms 'Son of God' and 'King' suggests that the Jewish leaders were not accusing Jesus of claiming divinity but of claiming to be the Messiah;

ii) The irony of the Jewish leaders' assertion, "We have no king but Caesar" being followed in the text by Pilate finally handing Jesus over to be crucified: the irony lies in the fact that to say they have no king but Caesar is the final capitulation.

Sunday, 10 December 2006

voluntary gifts (Volf)

Since God gives freely, we should too. That's how the apostle Paul thought of gift giving; it should be voluntary. He praised believers from Macedonia for giving "voluntarily" to the poor of Jerusalem (2 Corinthians 8:3). Similarly, he urged that the Corinthians' gift be ready when he came to collect it "as a voluntary gift and not as an extortion" (2 Corinthians 9:5).

Why is freedom in giving so important? Because the gift consists more in the freely undertaken choice to give than in the things given. In this regard, the Apostle might well have agreed with Seneca, the great stoic writer on gift giving, who said: "For, since in the case of a benefit the chief pleasure of it comes from the intention of the bestower, he who by his very hesitation has shown that he made his bestowal unwillingly has not `given', but has failed to withstand the effort to extract it."' As for Seneca, for the Apostle the "eagerness" of the giver matters more than the magnitude of the gift. God loves "a cheerful giver" (2 Corinthians 8:12 and 9:7).

And yet we noted earlier that we are obliged to give. God's gifts themselves oblige us, and God's commands reinforce that obligation. Now we see that we are obliged to give freely - and there's the rub. How can we give freely if we are obliged to give? Inversely, how can we be obliged to give if we give freely? Is it possible to be obliged to give freely?

The apostle Paul thought so. True, he never commanded the Corinthians to give, and he underscored this for them (2 Corinthians 8:8). But he exerted enormous pressure on them using some potent rhetorical weapons. He played with their sense of shame: they would humiliate themselves if they didn't give (2 Corinthians 9:4). He had them compete with other donors: the Macedonians gave, so the Corinthians should stick to their promise and give (which is also what he said to the Macedonians in 2 Corinthians 9:2). He appealed to their debt to him: he would be humiliated if they didn't give (2 Corinthians 9:4). And he did all this in order to nudge them to give, as he put it, "not reluctantly or under compulsion", but voluntarily (2 Corinthians 9:7)!

Was the Apostle twisting their arm to be free? Some strange freedom this must be! But maybe our sense that to be free is to act under no constraint whatsoever is mistaken. We tend to think that we must be autonomous and spontaneous to act freely. Behind this identification of freedom with autonomous spontaneity lies the notion of a self-defined and free-floating person. Strip down all the influences of time and place, abstract from culture and nurture, and then you'll come to your authentic core. This core is who you truly are, the thinking goes - unique, unshaped, unconstrained.

But that's more like a caricature of a divine self than an accurate description of a human self. Using the image of the beast, Luther argued that human beings are always ridden by someone, either by God or by the Devil. That's a crude way of putting it, but it's basically right. The point is not that either God or the Devil compels us. In that case, our will would turn into, as Luther put it, "unwill". It's rather that, unlike God, we always exercise our will as beings constantly shaped by many factors - by language, parental rearing, culture, media, advertising, and peer pressure, and through all these, we are shaped either by God or by God's adversary. Often we don't perceive ourselves as shaped at all. If we are not visibly and palpably coerced, we think that we act autonomously, spontaneously, and authentically. Yet we are wrong.

Take our preferences for one soft drink over another. I am thirsty, walk into a store, reach for a Pepsi, and walk away, never doubting that I acted autonomously and spontaneously. But why did I choose Pepsi over Coke or just plain water? I may like its taste better. But most likely it's because Pepsi's ads got to me the way Coke's didn't. I don't autonomously and spontaneously choose to be a Pepsi drinker; I'm made into a Pepsi drinker. Yet I freely chose that Pepsi can that is in my hand.

Recall what I said about the old and the new selves. Our old self died, and our new self was raised. It's a self in whom Christ dwells and through whom Christ acts, a self that has put on Christ and "learned" Christ. We are these new selves, and that's why we give (though non-Christians can give for many other reasons). We don't give mainly because God or God's messengers command us to. If we did, we would be giving under compulsion, and therefore, reluctantly. Instead, we give because we are givers, because Christ living in us is a giver. Informing every seemingly small act of Christian giving is a change in our very being, a transformation of a person from being one who either illicitly takes or merely legitimately acquires, into being one who beneficently gives. As I will explain in chapter 3, even as such transformed people, we still need to grow into the joy of giving. But the command to give is not compelling us to act against ourselves, even if it often feels like this.

That feeling that the command is against us, a sense of reluctance in giving, is not unfounded. When we have failed to put away our "former way of life", the new self becomes an obligation that butts against the ingrained habits of the old self. Yet as uncomfortable as it may feel, the pressure is not to our detriment, but in our favor. It pushes us to act true to who we most properly are. That's why we can be obliged to give freely: the obligation nudges us to do what the new self would do if the old one didn't stand in the way.

Imagine your life as a piece of music, a Bach cello suite. You've heard it played by a virtuoso. You love it and would like to play it well. But try as you might, you fail - not so much because you've had a bad teacher or haven't practiced enough, but because your left hand has a defect. You make music, but it's nothing like it's supposed to sound. Then you have surgery performed by a magician with a scalpel. Your hand heals. You return to your lessons with new vigor. And then one day, you play the piece nearly perfectly. Full of joy, you exclaim, "Yes! I love it! This is the way the music of my life should sound!" Constrained by the score because you have to follow its notation? Well, yes. But loving every moment of that constraint - and not feeling it as constraint at all - because the very constraint is what makes for the beauty and delight.

Something like this is what it means to be a free giver. God obliges us to give. But it is precisely when we act in accordance with the obligation that we have a sense of unspoiled authenticity and freedom. So in our best moments, we forget the command and just give the way we are supposed to give. We are like a motor-powered sailboat when it's "running", as sailors say: With the wind at the back of a powered boat, all resistance is gone; the boat is always where the wind would push it to be. The same is true of us when we give freely. Living out of our new selves, we are always already where the command would want us to be.

(Miroslav Volf, Free Of Charge, pp.64-67)

Monday, 4 December 2006

the psalms & us

The attempt to recover and renew psalmody in our time must not be undertaken merely as an embellishment of liturgical practice. Crucial possibilities for the theological, liturgical, and pastoral life of the church are involved. The liveliness and actuality of the language of the reign of God supply an organizing milieu for all the principal topics of the Christian faith. It constitutes the basis and medium of the three primary functions of our religion - praise, prayer, and the practice of piety. It provides a way of thinking and understanding that holds the individual and corporate relation to God together. Said and sung as Christian liturgy, the language of the psalms discloses the unity of the canon of scripture. It articulates a polemic against the polytheism and paganism that go unnoticed in our culture. It establishes a critical resistance to the domination of any human politics and the apotheosizing of any ideology, including democracy. The language of the psalms puts all who use them in the role of servants to the LORD God, and so lays a basis for an ethic of trust and obedience. It opens up a realm for existence in which the dying may take hope, the afflicted find strength, and the faithful encouragement.

Mere recitation of the psalms will lay hold on none of these possibilities. If, however, in the use of psalms as our praise and prayer and scripture we are led to feel and think and decide as those who live in the kingdom of God in hope of the kingdom of God, then we might begin to grasp some of them. We might be better able to trust ourselves to the One who comes saying, "The kingdom of God is at hand." That would be the right reason for the renewal of psalmody today.
James L. Mays, The LORD Reigns - A Theological Handbook to the Psalms, p.11

augustine & the psalms

In his Confessions, Augustine tells how he used the psalms in a period of retreat between his conversion and baptism. "What utterances sent I unto Thee, my God, when I read the Psalms of David, those faithful songs and sounds of devotion.... What utterances I used to send up unto Thee in those Psalms, and how was I inflamed toward Thee by them" (IX, 4).

For Augustine it was a time of preparation for a different life, of initiation into a new existence, a period in which habits of thought, customs of practice, and feelings about self and others and the world had to be reconstituted. As part of the transformation, he was learning a new language.

He spoke the psalms to and before the Christian God, who was now source and subject of his faith and life. He took their vocabulary and sentences as his own. He identified himself with the speaker of the psalms. He said the psalms as his words, let his feelings be evoked and led by their language, spoke the words that resonated in his own consciousness in concord with those of the psalms. He was acquiring a language world that went with his new identity as a Christian. It was the vocabulary of prayer and praise, the "first order" language that expressed the sense of self and world that comes with faith in the God to whom, of whom, and for whom the psalms speak.

James L. Mays, The LORD Reigns - A Theological Handbook to the Psalms, p.3

Friday, 1 December 2006

In a different light

It has always struck me as a great (and regrettable irony): Festus and Agrippa agree that Paul could have been set free (Acts 26:32) but because Paul has appealed to Caesar (Acts 25:11 ), to Caesar he must go. If only he'd held on a little while longer before making that last-ditch appeal, it could all have been so much simpler; still, I'm sure the Lord is able to use it for Paul's and the gospel's good. He is sovereign, after all.

But no; it's much more definite than that, in every sense. Paul has already been told that the Lord is taking him to Rome (Acts 23:11) - the only thing not specified was the how and why of the way in which that journey would come about. The purpose for going was as clear as day:

As you have testified about me in Jerusalem, so you must also testify in Rome (Acts 23:11)

So Paul's appeal to Caesar is neither impetuous nor desperate; it arises in the context of the Lord's clear direction and decision to send his apostle to the heart of the empire. And the forcing of Festus' hand is not a matter for regret; it is simply the Lord's time and place for enacting his plan to send Paul to Rome.

I'd never seen it that way before. I do now.

Thursday, 30 November 2006

doctrine & competence

Doctrines, then, are profitable for celebrating, communicating, criticizing - and coping - provided they are used competently. The present work sets forth an account of theological competence, which involves more than academic expertise. Theological competence is ultimately a matter of being able to make judgements that display the mind of Christ. Individual Christians, and the church as a whole, have no more crucial task than achieving such theological competence. One of the chief means of doing so is by attending to doctrine - to its derivation from Scripture and its development in the believing community."

Kevin J. Vanhoozer, in the introduction to The Drama of Doctrine: A Canonical-Liguistic Approach to Christian Theology, p. 2