Today’s Noontimeis a story we need to hear in our present state on local, national, and international turmoil. The story we hear read out to us at least once during the liturgical cycle; it is the story of the people’s relationship with God that takes place during a time when Yahweh’s prophets were being persecuted. It is also a time of high political intrigue when the kingdom brought together under David’s leadership has split in two. Ahab, Jezebel, Obadiah, and Elijah find themselves caught up in the kind of turmoil that guarantees suffering.
Elijah, the only surviving prophet of Yahweh, appeals to the people, and allows God to work through him to remind the split nations that despite their petty squabbles God is in charge. The prophets of Baal bring all of their power and influence to bear and still they cannot best Elijah and Yahweh. This is a good story and it deserves enough reading that we can apply it to our own lives.
What or who might be the Baal prophets in our lives? Who is it we believe more than God who created us and cares for us beyond all human capacity? Who is it we follow more eagerly than Jesus who redeems and saves us daily? And who is it we love more intensely than the Spirit who guides us and counsels us every minute of our day and night?
The humor with which Elijah pits the Baal gods and their prophets against Yahweh makes today’s reading entertaining and authentic. We may want to look for the humor in our own struggle to survive the droughts and famines of our days. And we may want to ask ourselves the same question that Elijah asks his audience: How long will you straddle the issue? If the Lord is God, follow the Lord; if Baal, follow him.
We have reflected on Ahab and Jezebel and their fall into corruption caused by their envy of Naboth’s vineyard. Today we see what happens to the seventy princes, their legacy. There is no plan, no ally, no fortification that can withstand truth, light and life.
It is unsettling to read about the terrible events that take place as retribution for evil or of the clearing away of what follows upon the heels of deception. Today we read about the end of an evil reign and if we celebrate love as Jesus teaches, there is no joy at the downfall of former foes. He shows by example how to ask intercession for those who both love him and jeer at him. Jesus is willing to speak to the wise among us who hear his words, believe, and act. Jesus also speaks to the foolish among us who hear his words and continue to ignore his call.
Ahab and Jezebel lived a life governed by self; their end and the end of their children is certainly a lesson in how our best laid plans go awry when God is not a part of them. We might look at two verses in particular:[They] have the chariots, the horses, a fortified city, and the weapons . . . The seventy princes were in the care of prominent men of the city, who were rearing them. Ahab and Jezebel laid every possible plan, made every conceivable provision. They “hard-wired” their legacy; yet all disappears because the walls of their city were an illusion and their strategies futile. They thought of themselves, their whims and their comfort first and only. They believed that they had built their legacy on thinking and behavior that was everlasting. Today we see that their plans were finite; they and their children came to an ugly end. We might also remember two verses from Psalm 20: Some rely on chariots, others on horses, but we on the name of the Lord our God. They collapse and fall, but we stand strong and firm. (Psalm 20:8-9)
To be wise, to be foolish: the choice always lies before us. To build on a firm foundation, to build on sand: the work is always before us. To act out of self-interest, to act out of love for others: the action is always before us. We may choose the path of Ahab and Jezebel and see our princes slaughtered. Or we may act like Christ to be open and vulnerable to suffering, to be open to eternal joy and hope.
Adapted from a favorite written on December 4, 2008.
For more reflections on Jezebel, enter her name into the blog search bar and explore.
Oh what tangled webs we weave, when first we practice to deceive!
My mother’s quoting of Walter Scott’s words peppered our growing-up years. Her use of Scott’s poetic words was her method of teaching the lesson of Ahab and his temper tantrum.
Ahab wants something which someone else cherishes and does not wish to give up. Ahab goes home, puts his face to the wall and refuses to eat. His unfortunate wife, Jezebel, colludes with him to get the coveted vineyard from their neighbor, and if we read the entire story, we see what kind of an end these two come to. They both pay a heavy price for their egregious crimes of trumping up false charges, conniving, lying, stealing, inciting a crowd to stone to death an innocent man. Naboth’s mistake or error is merely the cherishing of something that someone elsewants.
We hear Yahweh’s words through the prophet Elijah in verse 20: You have given up yourself to do evil in the Lord’s sight.
Frederick Leighton: Jezebel and Ahab met by Elijah
Since my childhood, and because of the wisdom of my mother, my family has not worried about belonging to a particular group. When my family opens our home to a party, all are welcome. Universal hospitality, bridges building to fringe groups, invitations to include all at the table have grown out of my mother’s teaching about Naboth, Ahab and Jezebel.
In this time when U.S. presidential politics are again fully before us, we must become aware of the many Naboths, Ahabs and Jezebels in the public eye. As we take in the daily news, we recall more words Mother and Dad recited from scripture: The measure that you measure with is measured out to you. Ostracizing others says more about you than it does about the others. There is really nothing that can be kept secret. The truth always comes out in the end. I hope you can stand it when it hits you in the face.
What a wonderful gift we are given in the friends and neighbors God sends to us. What a wonderful treasure is the vocation of building community to which we are called. What a blessing to work, play and live beside people with whom we hold things in common, and people with whom we hold little in common. We learn more from our enemies than we do from the people with whom we feel most comfortable. We are all God’s creatures, made in God’s image. What do our daily actions say about the relationship we have with our Creator? Do we turn away in anger when we covet something someone else has? When we open our hearts and homes, are all welcome? Do we extend invitations with ulterior motives? Do we interact with only a select few and bully others to bow to our wants? And when God asks us to invite the faithful to the table, whom are we willing to invite?
Oh what tangled webs we weave, when first we practice to deceive!
These words, often mistaken attributed to William Shakespeare, are found in the epic poem, Marmion, by Walter Scott about the Battle of Flodden that took place in 1513. The poem was published in 1808 but my mother repeated the words of this poem she had read in high school any time she found any of her brood even thinkingof doing something that was not above board, open, honest and fair. The story of Naboth is one that haunted me as a child; the envy, lies and deceit go beyond anything I experienced among family and friends. But as I grew older, I began to see Naboths everywhere; and from time to time I have been Naboth myself.
Verse 4 sends a chill down our collective spine when we realize what is about to happen: Lying down on his bed, [Ahab] turned away from food and would not eat.
We were raised by parents who kept secrets on topics they did not know how to discuss or that brought pain to those already suffering too greatly; otherwise, my elders modeled honesty in every-day life whenever they could. Mother would often say, “If you are keeping something secret in order to have friends, this should tell you that there is something wrong with the people or the event you are thinking about joining.” Of course, she was correct. Secrets have a way of surfacing and when they do, their result is always irony. “You better think twice about what you are thinking of doing.” She would continue with more axioms. “Birds of a feather flock together. There is no honor among thieves.” Once when I was in the sixth grade, I told my Mother that I could not invite a particular girl in my class to my birthday slumber party. “Why not?” Mother asked. “Because,” I answered with confidence, knowing that she would agree with me once she heard the terrible consequence that would follow, “If I do, the rest of my friends won’t come to the party. And besides, she isa little weird and gets on our nerves.” My mother turned from the stove where she was always standing, and said. Here is what you are going to do, or else there is noparty. You will invite allof these girls and when you do, you will allfind something nice to say to this one you say gets on your nerves. If you were paying attention as you should be, you would realize that she is worried that you don’t like her and she doesn’t know what to do about it.” She turned back to the stove, saying over her shoulder, “And if the rest of the girls don’t come because you have invited her, they are no friends at all. They are just people who are rude and inconsiderate. hey must have really had their own feelings hurt at some time, or they wouldn’t be acting this way. You would think they would know better.” And that was that. I imagined a slumber party with me and the “weird” girl, but then I knew better than to try to outmaneuver my mother. And she was right. All the girls were invited. All the girls came. We sat crossed-legged eating popcorn until small hours, making certain that this one friend felt cared for. We all survived the experience having learning something, and being better for it. s for the weird girl, my mother was right. Once she realized that we were not ostracizing her, she stopped being weird. But really, I think it was the rest of us who stopped being weird.
That was most likely the most important lesson I learned about social interaction. Mother did not name this bullying. She knew nothing of Mean Girls, or Queen Bees, or give it any other name than what it was: rudeness, a lack of consideration, the mean ostracizing of individuals or groups from a community. And my mother, growing up in a family of six sisters and one brother, would not tolerate this lack in her own children. I thank God for the careful shepherding Mother gave us as she handed us tools to handle the meanness of the world.
Tomorrow, Deception-Part II, Ahab gets his way.
For more on girls and bullying, visit: http://culturesofdignity.com/portfolio/queen-bees-and-wannabes/
Perhaps we believe that we ought to postpone grace and blessings, that we ought to wait for the reward of our hard work for the day we move from this world to the next; but this thinking forgets that the kingdom is here, the kingdom is now. And it forgets that we are called to witness to the kingdom each day, to experience its joy and to spread its good news. Our problem is that it is so difficult to see the kingdom through the smoke screen of life. The confusion of un-kept vows and broken people obscures our view of God’s plan for the world; but God’s promise is with us just as are the stars that scatter across the sky. We cannot see these heavenly bodies in the fierce light of the sun but still they are there, guiding us when night is the darkest.
One moment yet, a little while, and I will shake the heavens and the earth, the sea and the dry land. I will shake the nations, and all the treasures of all the nations will come in, and I will fill this house with glory.
What will happen when the shaking begins? Where will we be? Where will we and our loved ones tumble? Will we still able to hear the voice of God?
Haggai and Zechariah speak to the tired remnant, calling them to rebuild the fallen city of hope. They look upon ruin and dream of what might be. When we listen to these prophets, we have the choice to follow the admonition to build or to lapse into a self-serving life. Our action – or our inaction – determines our ability to hear The Word when spoken.
And I will set you as a signet ring; for I have chosen you, says the Lord of hosts.
Life is tumultuous and the only words of clarity that come to us come from the Creator. All else is illusion and obfuscation.
I will shake the heavens and the earth; I will overthrow the thrones of kingdoms, destroy the power of the kingdoms of the nations.
God overthrows power and comforts the powerless. God rebukes those who take what they want and saves the broken-hearted. God chooses the damaged and wounded, the betrayed and the abandoned and he heals them . . . for I have chosen you, says the Lord of hosts.
God pledges to fulfill promises, and this kingdom of hope and promise is now. Amid the cacophony and the haze, we must keep our ear tuned to the Voice which can be trusted. We must keep our eye on the One sent to lead us from the confusion. We must rely on the Spirit that dwells within . . . for I have chosen you, says the Lord of hosts.
The opening words of this chapter are the ones that Jesus stands to read in his hometown synagogue (Luke 4: 16-21). He follows this reading with the announcement that the words are fulfilled for them that day. Tension builds as those present question Jesus and realize that he is, indeed, saying that he is the Messiah, and that they have not listened to him or to God. A riot results and the congregation hauls him off to the edge of the cliff to hurl him over; but in the melee Jesus slips away.
These are such troubling words. These are such comforting words. Why are the people so angry? Why does the congregation reject good news? Why does Jesus’ audience refuse to allow the healing of broken hearts, anxiety and worry? When we pause to reflect, we realize that we too frequently do as this crowd does in Luke 4. We also reject the beautiful good news that Isaiah brings to us.
Envy is a powerful force. Those who would hurl the Messiah from the cliff forget that God alone saves, God alone heals, and God alone brings true freedom from all that holds us down. The crowd was thinking – in the same pride-filled way that we also might think – that they alone were responsible for all good things in their lives. They did not want to believe that they were not Yahweh’s faithful who followed The Mosaic Law to the letter. And they did not want to be challenged about their conduct, nor did they want anyone to discover the corruption of the system they had established.
As we read the words of Isaiah’s Chapter 61, in this “Book of Consolation,” we are filled with the knowledge that through perseverance and pain, good things do happen. Each day my children and grandchildren, my students, friends, colleagues, and even strangers bring God to me. I am healed by their prayer, their action, their connection with me in and through Christ.
And all God asks in return is that we take the suffering we have experienced and transform ourselves so that we too may in turn heal and cure. God asks that we also bring hope to the afflicted. Isaiah reminds us that we are all anointed. We are all called. We only need to reply to God’s call in word and deed.
The eleven huddle in fear for their lives when the Emmaus disciples burst into the room telling of their resurrection experience with Jesus. We can imagine the juxtaposition of the Emmaus joy and the Calgary fear – these disciples are living two different aftermath experiences – and then Jesus appears to affirm the truth: that what they have hoped for has come to fulfillment. He is risen! Then the disciples hear the true call of the aftermath. This call is notthat troubles will fall away from Christ’s workers, but rather that these workers will bring the same hope to others that Jesus has brought to them. The light has come to the world in fullness just as they had expected.
And so it also with us. The aftermath that Jesus foretells is already surrounding us. Perhaps we just cannot see this duality yet that the light has come to the world in fullness just as we have expected.
Several times a year we visit the ending of Luke’s Gospel during our Noontimereflections. Perhaps we need this aftermath reminder that often. Just a few weeks ago we spent some time thinking about the Emmaus people on the road with Christ. Today we see them harbinger the news to the eleven that the Christ has risen. The light has come to the world in fullness just as they had expected.
We seem to always need reminding that the paradox of the Easter story is that we are free even though we do not always feel free; yet the very act of our doubt becomes an act of faith because the light has come to the world in fullness just as we have expected.
We seem to always need reminding that the hope of Easter is fulfilled in us; we bring that message to one another on dark days because the light has come to the world in fullness just as we have expected.
We seem to always need reminding that the love of Christ sustains us in all we do and think and say; we offer ourselves as victims each day in his love because the light has come to the world in fullness just as we have expected.
We are Easter People, yearning for the goodness of life and perfection in God; and we live that goodness and perfection because the light has come to the world in fullness just as we have expected.
Is this the aftermath we have expected from the Easter story? Yes it is, because the light has come to the world in fullness just as we have expected.
LA BIBLIA DE LA AMÉRICA. 8th. Madrid: La Casa de la Biblia, 1994. Print.
The eleven enter into the fullness of the Easter message thanks to their encounter with the resurrected Jesus. They discover through him the profound meaning of the Scriptures and he sends them into the world as witnesses to preach conversion and the forgiveness of sins for all. For this enormous work, the disciples encounter the Spirit as told in the first chapter of Acts. (La Biblia 1595)
The Easter story is at once both beautiful and burdensome. It is the news we long to hear: we are saved. It is the work we often feel unable to accomplish: we fear that we are not up to the work because of our own under-nourishment or lack of faith, hope or charity. In our dual state, we might cling to the words of Jesus recorded by Matthew (10:22): You will be hated by all because of my name, but whoever endures to the end will be saved.
This is not the aftermath we expected. This is not the result we anticipated from the unfolding of the Good News. We were thinking that obstacles might become stepping stones, that hands might be held, wounds cured, scars healed. We were hoping that dark spirits might dissipate, cruel forces fall away. We were anticipating that the light might come to the world in fullness.
Tomorrow, aftermath . . . just as we suspected . . .
LA BIBLIA DE LA AMÉRICA. 8th. Madrid: La Casa de la Biblia, 1994. Print.
Upon the recommendation of a friend, I am reading Mountains Beyond Mountainsby Tracy Kidder about Paul Farmer, a physician who is saving bodies and souls in Haiti against all odds. As a coincidence, yesterday a photograph of a Haitian child arrived who is not starving this year because of a modest contribution I made to his church through my own parish. He wears a pink shirt open at the neck and he is not smiling. We have fed the stomach but have we answered the cry of his soul?
Paul Farmer lives out his call in a way that few of us are able; but I am not thinking about that kind of inequality today. Nor am I thinking about guilt or gluttony or inebriation. I am thinking about inequality and what each of us might do to lower obstacles so that we might all see what happens in the mountains beyond mountains of our world. One of the gifts of the internet is a glorious burgeoning of micro loans from one of us to another all around God’s blue/green globe. This seems to me to be the hand of God’s Spirit at work. Another gift of the internet is the way in which light permeates darkness, and the way in which the darkness exposes itself. It becomes more and more difficult to hide when this electronic presence can pierce the thickest fog and travel the roughest terrain with no effort.
What do we do about the great and small inequalities of life? We address them with the greatness and the smallness of our own bounty. Even the tiniest of ceramic shards is needed to create a mosaic depicting God’s glory. And even the smallest of these slivers is important for without that one sliver the total is incomplete.
Jesus ben Sirach calls us to think about small, every day matters in big ways. The life of Paul Farmer does the same. Rather than become frustrated about the inequalities before us, we might address them even in the smallest of ways.
Rather than curse the darkness, we have learned to light one small candle. Rather than succumb to the avarice and addictions of the world, we have learned to lend one tiny gesture, send one small check which calls us to sacrifice from our needs rather than our wants. These gestures and prayers rise to God like incense in the night, and in God’s hands they are capable of toppling tyrants. These are the acts that dispel the darkness and free souls from captivity, for they are acts of God carried out by good and faithful servants.
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