Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Job's Exquisite Rant

Today’s Old Testament reading took my breath away, and I simply had to share a few lines from it. They speak volumes about God’s willingness to be present to every part of us, even our deepest rage, and care for us all the same. In Job, meanwhile, we get a role model for relationship and the hard work therein: a faithful soul who rants at God but will not walk away from him. May we drink deeply of such a relationship with the Divine—where we feel secure enough to be fully ourselves.

“I loathe my life; I would not live forever.
Let me alone, for my days are a breath.
What are human beings, that you make so much of them,
that you set your mind on them,
visit them every morning,
test them every moment?
Will you not look away from me for a while,
let me alone until I swallow my spittle?
If I sin, what do I do to you, you watcher of humanity?
Why have you made me your target?
Why have I become a burden to you?
Why do you not pardon my transgression
and take away my iniquity?
For now I shall lie in the earth;
You will seek me, but I shall not be.”

(Job 7:16-21)

Friday, August 15, 2008

Samson and the Odder Side of God

(Samson) told his father and mother, “I saw a Philistine woman at Timnah; now get her for me as my wife.” But his father and mother said to him, “Is there not a woman among your kin, or among all our people, that you must go to take a wife from the Philistines?” But…his father and mother did not know that this was from the Lord; for he was seeking a pretext to act against the Philistines. At that time the Philistines had dominion over Israel. Then Samson went down with his father and mother to Timnah. (Judges 14:1-5)

You’ve got to feel for Samson’s parents. They did not see this coming.

Earlier in the story, God told them that their son would liberate Israel from the Philistines. He was to be raised as a nazirite, one specially consecrated to God. So they raise him this way. And what happens? Samson grows up and decides to take a wife from the oppressor. Even worse, God had warned the people of Israel not to intermarry with the Philistines and other Canaanite peoples.

Here’s where it gets interesting. In the next two verses, we get two pieces of information that may (or, in the second case, may not) hold profound relevance for us today:

  • “This was from the Lord.” In their complaint to Samson (“Can’t you marry one of your own?”), the parents were coaxing him to obey God. How could they possibly know that God had made other plans? Even when God speaks directly, it’s hard to let go of the former commandment and trust that voice: just look, for instance, at Peter’s resistance to God’s new work among the Gentiles (Acts 10:9ff).

It’s hard for us too. In matters of God, we often refer to scripture or tradition, and this is good. But God’s zigzag in this story reminds us to hold tradition lightly—because we have no idea when God will do a new thing.

  • Samson’s parents went along with it. They think he’s disobeying the Law by marrying this woman—and yet they go down to Timnah and help arrange it anyway. What gives?

This reminds me of Dan Quayle, the former vice president and ardent anti-abortionist. He once said that, if his grown daughter ever chose to have an abortion, he would support her “on whatever decision she made.”

There’s something going on here, and I’m not sure what it is. I’m not saying we should toss away what we know of God on a whim. Abraham nearly sacrificed his son to God; Jesus said people who loved family more than him were not worthy of him.

And yet compassion for one’s children, even when they do bad things, runs so very deep within our species—within most species. Maybe the lesson here is compassion above all else. Maybe it’s a simple respect for our genetic code and the God who made it. Maybe there’s no lesson at all.

What do you think?