Community and Active, Unconditional Love

One of the most challenging things about self-disclosure and hospitality is that we have so much fear about our actions being used against us. We've heard horror stories, or we've experienced in our own lives, that sometimes when we share things about ourselves, other people use that information to cause us harm. When we extend hospitality to someone else, sometimes others take advantage. Feeling betrayed is a part of many people's life experience, and this makes trust really difficult.

A community that practices mutual self-disclosure and hospitality addresses some of this threat. If you experience being served by others, it can be easier to serve without fear that others will take advantage of you. If other people are self-disclosing, it can be easier to trust that you won't be betrayed if you share something of yourself. None of this is a guarantee that someone won't take more than they give in a relationship, or betray a confidence out of anxiety. People don't always live in alignment with their deepest values. You and I are included in that. But intentional mutuality helps lessen our fear about being known and serving others.

There is another feature of meaningful, authentic community that figures into this equation, and that is active and unconditional love toward one another. Obviously, this is a mutual thing, too. Active and unconditional love informs why we would choose to know and be known by others -- why we would choose to serve and be served by others. It isn't enough that someone listens to us share something about ourselves, what we hope for is that we'll be understood and accepted. Mutual self-disclosure could still happen in an environment where people heap shame on themselves and one another, and this doesn't really help anybody. What makes a community meaningful is that we have our needs met, and part of what we need is a sense that we are valued and cherished by others. In other words, we need love.

Most of the adoration and value we extend toward other people and receive from others is conditional. We try to earn people's approval, or we make people earn ours. As children, many of us developed a sense of what we had to do or who we had to be in order to earn love and acceptance from others. For some of us, this has meant pretending to be something we're not. We hide our true selves because we believe at some level that who we really are is unacceptable or unlovable, and we show up in a more "worthy" persona that we think will fool people into loving or accepting us. "If they saw who I really am, I'd be rejected, but if they believe the mask I wear, I'll earn love and acceptance."

This impression gets reinforced in communities all the time. As long as you seem to conform to everyone else's beliefs and behaviors, you are given the message that you're acceptable, lovable, righteous, good. But if you veer away from the accepted beliefs and behaviors of the herd, there are consequences. Maybe you are given the message that you're unacceptable. Maybe love is withheld. In many cases, you are no longer treated as an equal participant in that community. In order to get your needs met, you have to do what the community demands. Being valued and loved is contingent upon following the rules -- even if that means pretending to be someone or something you aren't.

Now, healthy communities have boundaries. Behavior that harms people in any way can't be tolerated if a community is to provide safety. Enforcing community boundaries can take a number of forms, though. An anxious reaction to someone violating our boundaries might be to tell them that they are unacceptable -- that the boundary violator is unworthy of love and acceptance. A more intentional response might be to address the offending behavior, so that it becomes a matter of "This behavior is not acceptable" instead of "You are not acceptable." This kind of nuance can be a challenge to master, but it reflects a willingness to distinguish a person from their behavior. People have inherent worth and dignity, and behaviors can change.

It's loving to hold people accountable to a mutually agreed upon set of standards for a community -- a covenant, if you will. Members of a community can decide together, "These are the principles that are going to bind us together, and these are the boundaries that are going to promote us being in alignment with those principles." Then, when someone betrays a confidence or takes advantage of the community's hospitality or violates the community boundaries in some other way, the response can be  more loving toward everyone involved. Instead of a person being unlovable or unacceptable, the issue can clearly be, "This behavior doesn't align with our principles." It's even possible to say, "We love you and care about you, and this behavior isn't compatible with being part of this community."

This really isn't about controlling people's behavior. It's about giving people opportunities to grow into greater emotional maturity. Just about anything a person might do that would violate trust or harm another person is a product of that person's anxiety or emotional immaturity. When our decisions are informed by fears or false beliefs about ourselves or others, we're likely to cause some harm. But we have opportunities to alter our course. We have opportunities to learn and grow and do things differently. We have the potential to clarify our deepest values and guiding principles, and align our actions and beliefs with those values and principles. We have the potential to dismantle our irrational fears and give our word to greater integrity in our lives. We are capable of living into a best possible version of ourselves. Our decision to love others is essentially our willingness to see this same potential, this same capability, in them. So, it isn't about control so much as it is about hope.

At the same time, it's important for people to understand that their behavior has consequences, and that their actions have an effect on other people. None of this is a simple formula. It takes some commitment and some intentional work for a community to consistently focus on people's potential rather than their flaws. Hopefully, a community can establish a sense of active and unconditional love before it becomes necessary to enforce community boundaries. One way this can be done is by responding intentionally to the practices of mutual self-disclosure and mutual hospitality.

Love is apparent when people are accepted as they share who they are. We could respond to self-disclosure by trying to fix people, by judging them, by labeling them, or any number of ways that run contrary to valuing and cherishing a person. When a loving community practices mutual self-disclosure, that self-disclosure is followed by receptivity, acceptance, and validation. There are things that all of us could continue to work on. Validating and accepting where a person is doesn't equate to a declaration that they're done growing. It simply means that they are valued and cherished right where they are in their journey. The reason for growing isn't to gain love and acceptance. The reason for growing is to be more fully alive -- to be more consistently in alignment with a vision of a best possible version of yourself.

Likewise, love is apparent when service is met with gratitude. A community that practices mutual hospitality could come to expect that people will be of service to one another. People's acts of service toward one another may be overlooked or taken for granted if mutual hospitality is habitual for a community. Supplementing this commitment to a mutual sense of welcome with a mutual sense of gratitude and appreciation can foster deeper human connection. When people are willing to express gratitude, even when hospitality is expected, it reinforces a sense of value, care, and love for one another.

Meaningful, authentic community is more than incorporating a set of practices and behaviors into the community's identity. Self-disclosure and hospitality are wonderful, but they aren't enough in and of themselves. We all need to know that we are loved -- that we are cherished and valued. When we don't have this need met by other human beings, we invent sources. We imagine that something outside of ourselves cherishes and values us, even if we don't feel it from other human beings.

Some communities even foster this sense that something supernatural is the source of love. Meaningful, authentic communities recognize the truth that valuing and cherishing people is the responsibility of human beings to one another. We are responsible for expressing love and hope in one another's lives. When we abdicate this human responsibility to something we invent in our imaginations, we rob ourselves and others of full, satisfying human relationship. We miss out on being fully alive and fully human when we pretend that there is some other supernatural source for acceptance, value, and love.

Loving other people isn't safe, and it often isn't easy, but it is the task of human beings in meaningful, authentic community. If we aren't taking this responsibility seriously, we aren't creating authentic community. We're pretending to be less vulnerable and interdependent than we actually are. For this reason, honesty is another key component to meaningful, authentic community. Obviously, we must be honest in our self-disclosure if we expect to be truly known. And as we see here, active and unconditional love requires our honesty in recognizing love as the responsibility of human beings. We'll explore honesty further next week as we continue to consider the essential ingredients to meaningful, authentic community.

John 5:16-47 Values and Personal Authority

After the man from last week's passage was healed, the story goes on in John 5 to describe how the Jewish leaders persecuted Jesus. In a classic case of miscommunication, the Pharisees in the story hear and interpret Jesus' words in the most controversial way possible. The Jesus of this story tries to explain himself more clearly, but the concepts he is describing are difficult to understand and his audience doesn't really want to understand. 

Even though some of the ideas the authors insert into this passage are intended as literal, we no longer find them credible. Today, some may still contend that the dead are going to rise from their graves and be judged by a mighty supernatural. While this might encourage a morality of fear in some, it is obvious that many people are not persuaded to behave differently because of this threat. Even some people who claim to believe in this sort of judgment leading to eternal punishment or reward seem quite willing to do things that most folks would consider to be evil. There is no evidence to suggest its veracity, yet people have believed it for centuries. In all that time, belief in an afterlife has not perfected humanity. So, whether or not we want to believe in the mythology presented here, it doesn't seem fruitful to consider its merits. We are very sneaky in our beliefs, and we will find a way to believe what we want, no matter what is actually written on a page or spoken by a religious authority. There is a bit of the Pharisees' mode of listening in all of us.

What can we gain, then, from this exposition? Jesus seems to be defining his connection to and relationship with God, and he seems to be doing so in a very specific context of an ancient Jewish culture. Since we are not ancient Jews, we have to reframe a few things in order to make it meaningful in our own context. Let's first take a look at exactly what is being said.

First, Jewish leaders were angry because it seemed to them that Jesus was doing something unlawful. Jesus' provocative response was that God was still at work, so there was no reason for people not to work if they chose to do so. The story suggests that the Jewish leaders took umbrage at the implication that Jesus was making himself equal to God. This is a little bit odd, since Jews referred to God as Father long before Jesus -- the Old Testament often compares God to a loving parent, nearly always in the masculine sense. So, this may say something about the authors of John.

Next, Jesus tries to explain himself more clearly, saying that people can only do what is modeled for them, and he considers God to be a worthwhile model. He promises great and astonishing works, and forecasts a future grave-emptying judgment of all people, based on their merits. That is, Jesus promises that people will be judged by their deeds. He doesn't seem to have any other criteria in mind by which people might attain life abundant.

Finally, Jesus says not to take him at his word, but to verify what he says with other reliable witnesses and by the evidence in his life and actions. He points out that people have a limited perspective, and that sometimes they maintain a limited perspective by choice, especially when they can see themselves as superior. Yet, they do not realize how their own perspective ultimately condemns them to a life that is less than what it could be. Specifically, the Jews were relying on their scriptures and their legalistic sense of morality and ethics, yet in so doing, they missed the point of their identity as human beings. 

It's easy to look down on the Jewish leaders here, especially since the authors of John paint such a hostile picture of them. We can all see in ourselves a bit of the behavior we despise in others, though. We all choose not to listen to what someone is actually saying sometimes, especially when we hear something we can pounce on or be offended by. Sometimes, we all choose to judge others more harshly than we judge ourselves. We make sure the laws and rules we live by work in our favor, and we let some of our own behavior slide, even though it is "wrong" by our own standards. And we expect other people to behave the way we want them to behave, even when they haven't agreed to our set of rules. We want to be judged based on our best days, and we want our worst days to be forgiven and ignored. Yet we sometimes hold grudges against other people, and we are loathe to let others live down mistakes. 

It doesn't have to be like that. We don't have to be like that. The problem in all of that messy behavior is that we let our fear count for more than our hope. We are afraid of all sorts of things, and we may not even realize it. Some people are afraid of being overlooked, or of being wrong, or of being caught making a mistake. Being unacceptable. Being judged. Being unimportant. Being taken advantage of. Being alone. Being mistreated. Being ridiculed. Failing. Succeeding. We're afraid of all sorts of things. If we don't manage our fears, we can't live fully. If we don't manage our fears, we can't begin to approach a best possible version of ourselves.

As much as we can see ourselves in the Pharisees' behavior, we can also see ourselves in a different light. We are first and foremost accountable to ourselves. As much as we fear about how other people see us, we can't control other people. We can be responsible for ourselves. One key way for us to manage our fears is for us to have a clear sense of who we are -- to be self-defined. When we allow other people to define us, we fail to take responsibility for ourselves. And often, we take our definition from what we think other people think of us, without ever even verifying if our suspicions are correct. Even when we know what other people think of us, though, our identity is up to us.

One way that we define ourselves is by being very clear about our values -- about the things that matter most to us. This requires a bit of thought, and many people simply don't take the time. When we know what we value most, we can set clearer boundaries for our own behavior and in our relationships with others. We will likely have to go back over our values a few times, especially if we are used to making decisions based on fear. Our first run at defining our values might be based on our fears without us realizing it, and we have to ask some challenging questions and dig a little deeper if we want to get at the principles that we most want to guide our lives. 

You may think that you have a value of keeping someone in your life happy. This is misguided. You do not control another person's happiness. What are you afraid of if this person is unhappy? What belief about yourself is underneath that fear?

You may think that you have a value of making enough money to live comfortably. What is comfortable? Is your definition likely to change as you earn more? Is there a fear of scarcity underneath that value? Or a fear that you won't be acceptable to others if you don't have a certain lifestyle? Money is necessary, but money is just a way for us to do the things we value. Money accomplishes nothing on its own. What is the actual value that will direct what you do with the money you have?

This work is not quick, and it may take a lot of introspection before you arrive at a clear expression of the things that matter most to you. We might not be accustomed to doing this sort of work. It takes a bit of adjustment from our normal way of thinking. And once we've clarified some values, it takes some practice to live by them. Reminders every morning, thinking more intentionally about our decisions, and even talking through possibilities can help us adjust to living with integrity to the values we define.

Our values are part of what I think of as a deepest, most noble self -- a piece of us that is not based on fear, but on a sense of our capability, creativity, and beauty as human beings. Our deepest, most noble selves are always present, even though we often lose connection with what it means to be fully human. We second-guess our own sense of values -- our own identities -- because our fears get in the way. Our own sense of authentic personal authority comes from our deepest, most noble self, even though we sometimes look to other things to feel a sense of authority.

We have the potential for everything that we do to be sourced by our deepest, most noble selves -- for all of our actions and decisions to be based on our real values and guiding principles. If we work toward this level of integrity and intentionality, the results in our lives and in our relationships can be astonishing. We can experience life in a new way, with less of a sense that we are victims at the mercy of our circumstances or other people's whims -- a more vibrant life in which we have a clear sense of purpose and empowerment.

None of this happens by accident in our lives. We cannot continue on auto-pilot and expect anything to change in our lives. As we listen more deeply to ourselves and consider what a best possible version of ourselves might look like, we can live more intentionally into that vision of us. We are inclined to make up stories about ourselves, like "I'm working on that issue," or "One of these days, I'll figure out how to..." We often like affirming, positive words about ourselves. We'll know that what we claim about ourselves is true by what others see in our lives and by the actual evidence in how we behave. Other people won't necessarily approve of changes in our behavior, but when we change how we do things, the people around us will probably notice. If nothing looks different about how we live, chances are, nothing has really changed about how we are living.

The idea is not to have a different set of rules to live by. We have a habit of taking rules and twisting them so that we still think it's fine for us to do whatever it is we want to do. The idea is for us to claim responsibility for our own identities, for our own actions and decisions, so that our experience of life is more fulfilling. And if we are really paying attention to our values -- to our deepest, most noble selves -- our lives are more fulfilling when we are doing things that contribute to the well-being of others. We cannot define ourselves in isolation from everyone else. We are defined in part by the way we relate to others. So, our values and our guiding principles connect to how we are in relationship with other people. 

If the Jewish leaders in the story of John 5 had their way, they wouldn't pay any attention to someone needing help on the Sabbath. Their rules were strict, and they were afraid of what would happen if the rules were not obeyed. When we set aside fear, we can more easily see people as human beings of inherent worth and dignity, and our values can direct our actions more clearly than a set of abstract rules for behavior. This is the point of understanding our values. If we have a clear sense of personal identity and a clear sense of what matters most to us in life, we can more easily make decisions about how we will connect to other people and to the world around us. It is a different way of living than simply going with our automatic reactions, and I would offer that it is a more satisfying and fulfilling way of engaging in life. 

A Little Experiment: Know thyself. This is a repeat of a little experiment from a few weeks back, when I suggested that you write down your values -- the things that matter most to you in life. These are not the ways that you think you need to protect yourself from a hostile world. These are the things that you believe would make the world better for everyone. How do you most want to show up? What do you want to contribute to a better world? Write down your values, even if you aren't living by them very intentionally right now. Read over them a few times this week.

Another Little Experiment: Find the fear. Take one of your values and examine it carefully. Is there some fear about yourself or other people underneath that value? What would that value look like if you let go of that fear? Would it still be something you hold as important? Or is there something more important to you once the fear is out of the way?

One More Little Experiment: Intentional decisions. When you are faced with a decision this week, take a moment and consider your first impulse. Is it reflective of a best possible version of yourself? If so, celebrate that! If not, what option would be a better representation of who you most want to be? What is keeping you from making a decision that lines up clearly with your values?

Isaiah 33: Selective Well-Being Is Not Genuine Well-Being

People make enemies. Usually, people make enemies by their reactivity, when fear drives the bus and prompts people to act in ways that don't align with their deepest values. The leaders of Judah made enemies through political decisions intended to preserve power and protect resources. Unfortunately, their adversaries were operating under an equally false impression of power and well-being. The tyranny of emperors has never been sustainable in human culture, but that still doesn't stop tyrannical people from thinking that they will be the exception to the rule. Tyranny is based on fear, just as Judah's defiance of the Assyrian Empire was based on fear. Of course, when we talk about "Judah's defiance," it isn't as if an entire country rebelled with a common sense of purpose. The entire country suffered, but it was the decision of a single leader (informed by his counselors) that determined the fate of the people he governed. It would be a mistake to assume that everyone in Judah was in agreement about international relations, primarily because most people didn't know that much about the specifics of politics.

Many people are satisfied with not suffering. They don't necessarily care what is going on politically, and especially in other parts of the world, as long as they are not personally suffering. We concoct excuses why other people are suffering while we are not, and we practice behaviors designed to protect what we have and preserve the power we have over our lives and possessions. If we get too attached to having more power than some other people, more wealth than some other people, or (bluntly) more well-being than some other people, we run the risk of making enemies. Being comfortable with a status quo in which some people have greater well-being than other people is not far from being comfortable with the idea that some people are worth more than other people. This is not a path to mutual respect or peace.

Isaiah 33 issues a promise of deliverance from enemies. As many of the promises in the prophetic books, this one is empty. It is an empty promise because it relies on an external supernatural to take care of human problems. This is rather like a child expecting that a parent will clean up any messes and whisk away any consequences that result from the child's behavior. In other words, it is devoid of personal responsibility. The problems that human beings create must be addressed by human beings, and they must be addressed more responsibly than just waiting for a supernatural to decide that it's time to fix things. A supernatural is not going to be your salvation in time of trouble. If we have any salvation, it is in human beings and our capacity to make better decisions than what we have made in the past.

If we take the definition of divinity as something that is within every person -- an inherently human characteristic -- then we might create a workable interpretation of Isaiah 33. Without any attempt to retain the poetic nature of the original text,

People who seek to destroy or betray others in order to preserve an imbalance of power create only the illusion of well-being for themselves. They have to live in perpetual fear of reprisals and spend so much time protecting what they have that they never learn to use it wisely.

Our deepest, most noble selves influence us in a different direction and reveal the values that will lead to more authentic well-being. We cannot lose the voice of our deepest, most noble self; there is no way for us to blot out our truest selves completely. This voice of truth, beauty, and creativity within us shows us the path to mutual well-being, equity, and justice. The counsel of our deepest, most noble selves offers stability in our lives and in our relationships, boundless integrity with ourselves and reconciliation with others, and sustainable insights toward lives free of irrational fear.

People will lose all of the things they try to hold on to out of fearful self-interest. There is no strategy born of anxiety that will pay meaningful dividends. Peace, justice, and genuine well-being come from other sources.

If we heed the voice of our deepest, most noble self, it will be impossible for others not to notice. Our lives will look so different from the lives of those who live by fear that it cannot leave the world unchanged. 

Here are some specifics: our actions would have obvious integrity with our values and our words would be impeccably honest, we would find ways to have what we need without supporting the oppression of other people, we would seek what creates the greatest good for the greatest number of people rather than what provides immediate gratification in our own lives, we would not accept violence as an acceptable solution to human problems, and we would not justify abusive behavior by the ends it is intended to achieve. When we do what we know to be right, by the testimony of our deepest, most noble selves, we will create well-being in every dimension of our lives, and we will promote multi-dimensional well-being in the lives of the people around us. 

The world cannot be sustained by fear. There is no hope in the priority of preserving power and control of resources among an elite few. We don't have to learn what justice and well-being would look like. We already know these things. Yet, there is no point in resentment against those who have lived out of fear. The way forward creates a better world for everybody, where everyone has enough and no one has reason to be afraid.

None of this is to say that it is easy to live with integrity, or even to know what our deepest values are if we have never really thought about it. It takes time and practice to allow our deepest, most noble selves to have greater influence in our lives than the irrational fear and anxiety by which we are accustomed to living. Our greatest strength is that we already know what justice and well-being would look like. We just operate under the impression that it would be impossible to have true justice and well-being for everyone. Maybe we have to start small -- in our own lives and in our own neighborhoods -- so that we can develop greater hope for more people. We know what justice and well-being look like. We just have to commit ourselves to creating that to whatever extent we can.

Thus, it is not the case that power and wealth and well-being are bad things. When our goal becomes preserving our own power and protecting what we have, then we go off the rails and cease to have integrity with our guiding principles. However, it is possible for us to recognize the resources at our disposal and allow our deepest values to determine what we do with those resources. The reality is that some people have more power than other people. Some people have more money than other people. Some people have more intelligence than other people. Some people have advantages in some facet of well-being that others do not have. The point is not to reject what we have haphazardly, but to use the resources at our disposal to create something better than current reality. Rather than trying to preserve and protect what we have (or gain more to hoard for ourselves -- another fear-based reaction), we could be using what we have in ways that align with our deepest values.

Nor is this an entirely selfless position. The underlying message of Isaiah 33 is that what some people think of as security and well-being is just an illusion. Piling up wealth and power for oneself isn't going to create lasting meaningful benefits. True well-being for ourselves requires the well-being of the people around us. When we share our resources with our own neighborhoods, we create better environments for our own lives. When we share our resources with other parts of the world, we create a better future to live into. Our deepest, most noble selves do not encourage us to sacrifice our own well-being for the benefit of others, but to sacrifice our false sense of scarcity and our irrational fears about other people and ourselves, so that we might have genuine well-being in our own lives.

Isaiah 31-32: A Vision of Justice and Righteousness

Isaiah 31 is more of the same, and while we could cover the same ground again, it's most likely sufficient to say that no supernatural has ever protected, delivered, spared, or rescued anyone, just as no supernatural has ever caused anyone to perish. If any people have ever fallen by the sword, it was most certainly the sword of a mortal. If any people have ever been oppressed or put to forced labor, it was most certainly other human beings who were the oppressors. If any people have ever found peace, it was most certainly because of human conscience and will that they did so.

Thus we arrive at Isaiah 32, in which we find some words of substance. It seems that human beings in every time have promoted the idea that violence could be justified if one's heart was pure or one's motivations were righteous. It seems that there have always been human beings who propagated the belief that some people are more deserving of well-being than others. Even now, there are those who countenance bringing harm to some people so that the status quo of others can be preserved, and it is typically those who have wealth and power who find it easy to advocate for things to stay just as they are. Such people exist in religious and non-religious circles alike, and as we have seen, those who consider the Bible to be authoritative have plenty of evidence in their corner to defend the idea that those who have wealth and power were granted their status by an almighty supernatural.

What shall we do with Isaiah 32, then? Obviously, the authors are predicting a future time in which a competent and righteous ruler appointed by Yahweh will govern impeccably. That isn't likely to happen. Rather than dismiss the words entirely, however, we can attend to what the outcome will supposedly be of this ruler's righteousness. What fruit will righteousness bear? What will the practical result be?

Justice is a tricky word now. We have accepted too many varied definitions of that word for it to be of much use. We call it "justice" when a person is sent to prison as the result of a guilty verdict. We call it "poetic justice" when someone who has brought harm to another experiences similar harm. We call it "social justice" when we politically defend the legal rights of people who have been marginalized. Sometimes, we call something "justice" if it works out in our favor, or at least if someone we don't like suffers. We have to read further into the passage if we want to put valid meaning to the word.

Aside from the symbolic rhetoric the authors use to demonstrate what righteousness and justice look like, there are a few specific things that stand out. By contrasting noble ideals with foolish ideals, the authors suggest that the results of righteousness and justice are that people have plenty of food and water (Is 32:6), and the poor are uplifted (Is 32:7). In other words, the practical results of righteousness and justice are that people have sustenance -- that everyone has enough of what is needed for their physical and economic well-being.  

The authors interrupt with a warning to complacent women, which we could extrapolate as a general warning against complacency, understanding that whatever consequences result from complacency are natural consequences and not supernatural punishments. After that, though, there is a little more clarity about the practical results of what the authors are calling righteousness and justice. People will experience peace, trust, and safety as the consequences of righteous and just decisions. So, in short, the vision cast here is a world in which everyone has enough and no one has reason to fear.

We know a few things from our personal experience and the testimony of history. Violence begets violence. It is not possible to bring harm to some people for the well-being of other people without provoking greater violence, preventing trust, and/or thwarting a sense of safety. Violence cannot lead to well-being, and violence cannot be a tool of righteousness and justice, at least not in the sense that the authors of Isaiah 32 are using those terms. This isn't to say that the authors of Isaiah realized that. They promote violence left and right. Perhaps this is one reason they never saw the realization of the vision they cast. If we have learned nothing else from history, we have at least learned this.

We also know that "righteousness" and "justice" for only some people is not really righteous or just. The specific people mentioned as the beneficiaries of righteousness and justice in Isaiah 32 are the poor, the hungry, and the thirsty. If there are any who are made poor, hungry, or thirsty as a result of our decisions, or who remain poor, hungry, or thirsty as a result of our decisions, we cannot consider our decisions to be righteous or just, not by the standards put forth in Isaiah 32 at least. If we envision a world characterized by justice, we must build that on a foundation that meets the needs of the most needy people -- that provides a way for every person to have enough.

This is, admittedly, a tall order. It's no wonder the authors of Isaiah (and many people in the twenty-first century) see this as a super-human task -- something they expect God to be able to accomplish, but that they see as way beyond human capability. We may be tempted to think this because we recognize that the vision is too great for one person, or even a small group of people, to achieve. We also may be tempted to reject a vision of the world in which everyone has enough and no one has reason to fear because we think that this will mean that we personally will have less. We might be so accustomed to a way of life with conveniences and luxuries that come at other people's expense that we find it hard to imagine what our lives might be like if we were to take such a vision of the world seriously. I admit that when I think about the oppression I support by some of the purchases I make, I feel overwhelmed sometimes because I don't know what I can possibly do differently without upending my life and withdrawing from society. Even that wouldn't really do anything to end oppression, it would just alleviate my sense of culpability.

There is still hope for a world in which everyone has access to the food and water they need, and in which there are no disenfranchised or marginalized people. Such a world is not a short-term vision. It will take a long time and the commitment of a lot of people, but we can participate in creating such a vision. Some of what we can do might include our choices about what kinds of products we purchase, or it might include contributing to an organization that meets the real needs of people in nations where a few dollars goes a long way. I believe that some piece of what we can do involves contributing some of our resources to meeting the needs of the people right on our doorsteps, our own neighborhoods and communities. Whenever we contribute to greater well-being in the life of someone who might fall into those categories of marginalized, hungry, thirsty, or poor, we contribute a little bit toward creating a better world.

Honestly, I don't think that such a vision can be made manifest without some radical changes in global economics and the participation of the people who control the lion's share of resources. Whatever our own political and social influence might be, we have to be willing to use that influence to create the kind of world we envision. I suspect that using our influence responsibly feels most natural when we are living the kinds of lives that exemplify the kind of world we envision. As we assert definitions of what is "just" and "right" founded on the well-being of those people who are most often overlooked, we set the stage for a shift in awareness. As we commit ourselves to responsible consumption, and as we commit a portion of our resources toward a vision of well-being for all, we also contribute to the propagation of a new mental model for sustainable living. As we live intentionally in a spirit of abundance, we help to dismantle the fear of scarcity that fuels so much of the violence and oppression perpetuated by people in the world today. As we choose to live differently, we give other people permission to live differently too. And as we live our lives more intentionally, we more easily become aware of opportunities to live out the principles we value most.

There are enough visions of the world built on fear (entitlement, greed, scarcity, or whatever other names fear goes by), and they have not created anything approaching justice, peace, or sustainable well-being. One person cannot do everything, but one person living intentionally with a compelling vision for the world can inspire other people to do the same. This is how the world changes. Be inspiring.

Isaiah 29: Creating the Future

Human creativity (and our fear of being wrong about anything) make prophetic passages like Isaiah 29 potentially dangerous. Not all prophecy is prediction about the future, but this chapter clearly is intended as such. Whether the authors are predicting a literal future or are figuratively depicting a hopeful future is up for debate, but it is clear that the chapter is intended to predict a future that is different from current reality. 

We have some funny tendencies when we hear or read prophecies. Whether the predictions are coming from a financial "expert," a passage of ancient text, or the horoscope, we have a tendency to want to apply those words as directly as we can to our own lives, so that we can draw conclusions and make decisions that are in line with what is "supposed" to happen -- or even "destined" to happen. Even many people who would never put stock in a fortune teller or Tarot card reader look into the Bible and believe that they read "promises from God" about their personal lives. Entire religious communities take verses out of their original context and misapply them as personal promises relevant today. Jeremiah 29:11 is a prime example. It reads,  "For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope." This is not a personal promise to all believers, as a casual reading of Jeremiah reveals, and yet many people seem greatly comforted by this "personal promise from God," misappropriated though it may be.

Our creativity may become doubly engaged when we place confidence in prophecies. We begin to interpret exactly what is meant by the words, and we may begin seeking out ways to cause the prophecy to be true. If a horoscope tells us, "You will receive a gift today," we might be sure to check the mail and keep all of our appointments. If we don't actually receive a physical gift, we might start thinking through the day to discover what the intangible gift was. Perhaps it was the moment when someone sat and deeply listened to us, or perhaps it was the kind person with a full cart of groceries who let us go ahead of them with our three items. Most likely, we can figure out something that we would consider a kindness if we have been engaging with people all day expecting to receive something. 

Some predictions are more vague, however, and place things a bit more in our control. What if, instead of passively receiving a gift, I told you that you would find a treasure? Now, the responsibility is even more on your shoulders to make the prediction true. Even if you find a quarter on the ground, you can prove the prediction correct. The question is whether you are more likely than usual to find a quarter on the ground if you are expecting to find a treasure. It may be that once you hear such a prediction, your subconscious is more attuned to finding something even if you aren't consciously seeking it out. Prophecies are sometimes even more vague than that, though. Instead of telling you that you will a treasure, I might say, "A portion of your wealth will spring up from the ground." You could interpret that in such a way that finding a quarter makes it true, but your mind might also do a great many things with that statement. Maybe you will invest more in fossil fuels. Maybe you will plant a garden, so that you spend less on groceries. Maybe you will be entrepreneurial and leave your job to start a palm tree farm. 

Of course, you may be thinking, "I wouldn't do anything at all. I don't believe in your ability to make such predictions." Fair enough. The trustworthiness of the source certainly would seem to be an issue. This is why biblical prophecy is so problematic. The empirical trustworthiness of the Bible is fairly low when it comes to prophecies. The problem is that people have proclaimed that the source is infallible, and therefore every bit of biblical prophecy that seems not to be true is interpreted as symbolic or yet to come. Each of these has its own pitfalls.

Interpreting biblical prophecy as symbolic is a convenient way of not having to address inaccuracies and false predictions. Perhaps it is convenient that there is no way to verify the symbolic meaning. If a hundred people point to a hundred different events as the "fulfillment" of a particular passage of prophecy, there is no way to determine which of them, if any, is "correct." We have to rely on how much we trust the person making the claim, and we have to decide whether the claim makes sense to us. We are relying on our own emotions and intellect to draw these conclusions, not the source of the prediction. There is no way to take the event back to a biblical author and say, "Is this what you meant?" In reality, biblical authors making predictions were probably either (a) commenting on events relevant to their own people in their own time, or (b) forecasting vague hopes for the future in order to quiet the minds of powerless oppressed people with wavering faith. 

When we interpret biblical prophecy as "yet to come," we run into even more problems, however. Just like the person who would decide to start a palm tree farm if told, "A portion of your wealth will spring up from the ground," people can start looking for ways to make prophecies true. Or, at least, they can behave as if their interpretations of the prophecies are true -- as if all of their actions have foregone conclusions. Isaiah's prophecy that all peoples would stream to the "holy mountain" Jerusalem for wisdom and guidance from Yahweh was intended to offer comfort and hope to people, not to inform geopolitical decisions thousands of years into the future. Yet, there are some who continue to believe in the inevitability of this prophecy. If the interpretation is that this prophecy has not yet come to pass, this interpretation directly influences the way one views and deals with modern Israel and other nations in the Middle East. There is thus a dangerous potential for a misappropriated ancient text to inform military and political decisions, perhaps even overriding a clear sense of what would bring the greatest good to the greatest number of people. 

Thus it is that Isaiah 29 is a dangerous piece of writing, not because the authors were malicious, but because they were wrapped up in their own ethnocentricity, and twenty-first century readers misapplying the words to themselves find justification for closed-mindedness and self-aggrandizement. Consider, 

And the multitude of all the nations that fight against Ariel,
    all that fight against her and her stronghold, and who distress her,
    shall be like a dream, a vision of the night.
Just as when a hungry person dreams of eating
    and wakes up still hungry,
or a thirsty person dreams of drinking
    and wakes up faint, still thirsty,
so shall the multitude of all the nations be
    that fight against Mount Zion. (Is 29:7-8)

In verse 2, Isaiah identifies Ariel as Jerusalem, and for twenty-first century people, this might be interpreted as the city of Jerusalem (although probably only the Jewish and Christian portions of the city!), the nation of Israel, or the whole of Christianity. Enemy nations might be interpreted literally or figuratively, but the gist of the prophecy is that what seem to be powerful foes will disappear like a dream. This will happen because of something Yahweh does -- because of a supernatural will -- and thus can be beyond the explanation or understanding of human beings. What would you decide to do in your life if you believed that everyone who could possibly oppose you would eventually just disappear? This could be a very empowering idea. However, some opposing forces can help us maintain our integrity. We could become quite bull-headed, failing to see the long-term consequences of our actions, failing to see how what we decide affects other people, if we took this mandate to extreme.

The meek shall obtain fresh joy in the Lord,
    and the neediest people shall exult in the Holy One of Israel.
For the tyrant shall be no more,
    and the scoffer shall cease to be;
    and those alert to do evil shall be cut off --
those who cause a person to lose a lawsuit,
    who set a trap for the arbiter in the gate,
    and without grounds deny justice to the one in the right. (Is 29:19-21)

Again, this seems quite nice. The neediest people shall have reason to celebrate, and there will be justice. The problem is that very few of us cast ourselves in the role of villain in our own story. We believe that we are the one in the right. We believe that we deserve to win our lawsuits. We are the meek and humble sufferers who will eventually be lifted up. And if that is how we cast ourselves, that means that the people who find fault with our way of thinking are the scoffers. Those who keep us from doing what we want (and from forcing others to do what we want) are the tyrants. If we have a promise that those scoffers and tyrants will be taken care of, then we have no reason to listen to their perspective now. If we have confidence that justice will eventually be done, then we can obviously (egotistically) trust that we will be exonerated.

Please bear in mind, I am not attempting to interpret the words of the authors of Isaiah as they intended them to be interpreted. I am not even attempting to provide an interpretation that is viable in light of the entirety of biblical scripture. I am simply demonstrating the way that prophecy can be twisted and manipulated into self-legitimizing "promises," based on what I have personally read and heard from believers. It is important to understand that there is no viable way to talk someone out of a belief or "debate someone into reasonableness" when they have confidence that their personal scoffers, enemies, and tyrants will one day vanish into nothing because of God.

One more short verse, the final one of the chapter: "And those who err in spirit will come to understanding, and those who grumble will accept instruction," (Is 29:24). This is, for some believers, a blatant promise that one day everyone else will understand things as they do. It is confirmation that they are right, and that everyone who has a different interpretation of reality is erring in spirit or grumbling, but only temporarily. Perseverance without questioning one's perception is thus made into a virtue.

I've alluded to a couple of problems with thinking that we know the future, but let me clearly state the three biggest ones that seem to emerge from trusting biblical prophecy as yet to come. Then, I want to propose a better option. The first big problem is that we can be thoughtless about our own actions and beliefs if we believe that we know the future. This even counts for thinking that we know about an afterlife. If we believe we know what's going to happen, we have less reason to be thoughtful about what we do and believe right now. When we are willing to examine our own beliefs and actions, we have the opportunity to grow. When we grow, we get better at being the kind of people we actually want to be. If we don't grow, we stagnate.

Second, we stop listening when we think we know what is going to happen. If we believe that we know the way to eternal life, we stop caring what anyone else thinks about it. If we believe we know the way to happiness, we stop listening to anyone else's ideas. Once we think we know what is going to happen, it seems like the only reason we have to listen to other people is to tell them that they are wrong if they disagree with us. We need other people. It isn't that case that other people are just useful tools for us to gain knowledge and can be discarded once we know all we need to know. First off, we never know all we could possibly learn from other people, but beside that, we need relationship one another as human beings. We need connection with one another. When we stop really listening, we stop connecting.

Finally, we might stop making a difference when we think we know what is going to happen. Belief in an afterlife is one of the greatest detractors to justice and equity in the world. If you believe that good people (whatever your definition of that is) will go to heaven for eternity, you have less reason to make sure that their life here on earth is worth living. "Those people may suffer now, but they'll be able to celebrate for eternity if they just believe as I believe." What drivel! Even the belief that God is going to take care of things here in this reality is a bit demotivating. If God's will will be done no matter what, then we have no reason to act. If we believe that God will take care of all our enemies and scoffers and tyrants, then we are probably under the impression that he will do that when he's good and ready, and we need not worry our little heads about it. Meanwhile, we can also just wait for God to take care of all the other problems we see around us. Hunger, violence, slavery, disease -- they seem like insurmountable challenges, and it's understandable why we would just want to believe that one day, they will supernaturally disappear. Human problems won't just go away. We have to act, to whatever degree we are capable, if we want to see a better world.

Since prophecies are so problematic (particularly since so few risky prophecies ever turn out to be true), and since we cannot know what's going to happen, we have to base our beliefs and our actions on something different. Believers and non-believers alike can do this. If there is an afterlife, you don't know anything about it. You might think or hope or believe some things about it, but you honestly only know about this reality. You don't know the future. You might be able to make some reasonable predictions, and you might hope for some less reasonable things, but you honestly do not know the future. Recognizing that is the first step.

One thing we can know is what we value. As I have repeated many times, we all have a deepest, most noble self that reflects our innate truth, beauty, and creativity. We also heap on a pile of lies and fears about ourselves, other people, and the world we share. We have to dismantle those fears and lies and recognize what we really value -- the principles that we most want to guide us. We can't know the future, because we haven't created it yet. And we can't create the future we most want unless we know what we value most.

This is the point at which our defensive mechanisms kick in and we get sarcastic. "What I value most is for all the idiots to just leave me alone." "What I really value is a warm day with a cool margarita when I can just kick back and relax." "I want to create a future where I keep my paycheck instead of paying more taxes than all those other people." When your mind starts in with those defensive routines, recognize them for what they are. You're trying to protect yourself from realizing what really matters most to you. If you recognize what really matters most to you, you might have to do something about it. You're trying to protect yourself from dreaming big. If you dream big, you might get disappointed or hurt.

Even though they had no control over how twenty-first century narcissistic believers would twist their words, the biblical prophets knew how to dream big, and they knew what they valued. They were products of their time -- more than 2500 years ago in the case of Isaiah's authors -- so their values may look a little different from ours. We can be just as bold, however, in casting vision for what could be. Casting vision isn't the same as claiming to know the future. Casting vision is saying, "This is what I wish the world were like, and this is what I'm willing to do to move it a little bit closer to that vision." Powerful vision isn't based on our fears or lies about ourselves and other people, and it isn't based on our defensive routines. Powerful vision is based on our deep guiding principles -- the things that we most want to guide our behavior and decisions, even though we often let other things get in the way.

Guiding principles aren't complicated. For me, the idea that all people have inherent worth is a guiding principle. I don't always carry that idea forward into my life as well as I would like, but my values are all tied back to that principle. As I cast vision for the future, that principle is at the heart of what I envision. Your guiding principles don't have to match mine, but whatever they are, your guiding principles and your values are what empower your vision for the kind of world you want to create. We cast vision and create a better world by starting in our own lives. If you envision a world with greater compassion, what needs to happen in your life to start making that a reality? If you envision a world where clean water is available to all, what do you need to do to move things in that direction?

What principles do you most want to guide your life?
What do you value most deeply?
What would a world built on those principles and values look like?
What can you do to allow your life to embody that vision?

We do not know the future. We create the future. We can choose to create a future based on our deeply held values, or we can continue forward on auto-pilot. I know which one seems most compelling to me.

Isaiah 25-26: Being Special

As with many biblical prophecies, there are significant aspects of Isaiah 25-26 that are obviously based on cultural bias, and there are other assertions that are simply not true. In Isaiah 25, for instance, the authors claim that Yahweh was "a refuge to the poor, a refuge to the needy in their distress, a shelter from the rainstorm and a shade from the heat." By the end of the chapter, there is the snide claim, "The Moabites shall be trodden down in their place as straw is trodden down in a dung-pit," which is rather interesting considering the status of the Moabites as poor, distressed refugees who needed shelter (Is 15:1-16:4). It is somewhat ironic to call the Moabites proud while remaining blind to the inherent pride of considering one's own people to be specially chosen as worthy by the only real deity among a sea of tribal gods.

Beyond that, it is a rather frustrating empty promise to suggest that God will make life easier or smoother for the "righteous" person. Everyone faces difficulties in life, but some of the people who face the most insurmountable problems are also people who go to church every Sunday and do their best to live by what they are taught there. Some "righteous" people have very challenging lives, and some "unrighteous" people would seem to have very easy lives. It is one of the great problems of capitalism that many people who gain wealth via the suffering of others have rather enviable lives. And what does it really mean to be righteous? Contrary to what many Christians have been led to believe, morality is not exclusive to religious people. Atheists and Humanists have abundant reason to behave ethically and morally, and many do. Should we assume that their way is made smooth by God because they are righteous? More likely, the accurate interpretation of "righteousness" as it is used here should be: "people who sincerely believe what we believe."

Some believers will claim that the important symbolic predictions of these chapters have been proven true, not that nations have literally streamed to the "holy city," Jerusalem, to learn from God's wisdom, but that Christianity has spread throughout the world. The same narcissism that characterizes the ancient Israelites' self-identity as a chosen people has now become a self-characterization of many Christians. That Christianity has spread throughout the world is undeniable. However, it is also true that Islam and Buddhism have spread throughout the world. There are Atheists in every nation, too, whether they organize publicly in groups or not. The ethnocentrism of this passage conveniently ignores that those things which are true about its claims regarding Yahweh are true of a great many belief systems.

For instance, it is suggested that, although Yahweh is busy destroying cities in wrath, punishing them for calling on different gods (never mind that only the Israelites were his chosen people, and they weren't exactly creating a righteous society), those who patiently trust Yahweh to come through will be rewarded because Yahweh will eventually act on his will. Whatever might be commended in this assertion might be commended of patiently trusting in anything. If one prays for rain, it doesn't matter to whom one prays; eventually it will rain. When it rains, one is likely to attribute that to whatever god was the focus of one's prayers, but rain happens because of natural processes, not because of supernatural causes. One's perception of why or whence the rain comes does not change the fact that rain is a natural phenomenon that will happen whether anyone prays for it or not. Anyone who survived the warfare to which Isaiah's authors were responding could attribute that survival to their gods, but the more likely explanation would have been luck, or possibly some kind of privileged circumstances.

Perhaps the most disturbing aspect of these passages that lingers in the minds of believers today is the assumption that God works through human warfare. Armies were the practical means through which Yahweh was supposedly laying waste to cities, after all. There was no supernatural event or even extreme global weather patterns; when the authors of Isaiah say that Yahweh leveled a city, they mean that a foreign army leveled a city. Yahweh gets the credit for military successes. What this also means, however, is that military victors get credit for being Yahweh's instruments. When people go to war, the outcome is not based on the moral standing of the peoples involved in the eyes of a supernatural. When people bomb cities, the death and destruction is not ordained by God. Violence is a human decision, the consequences of which rest squarely on the shoulders of the human beings who made that decision. And violence always has consequences. There is no possibility that all the "evil cities" in the world can be destroyed and everyone left will go streaming to the "righteous cities" that remain, but even if that were a possibility, it wouldn't be because human beings raised armies and went to war.

Biblical prophecies are fraught with hazardous assumptions, and many of those assumptions still infect the minds of some believers. It is one of the problems of believing in supernaturals that people do not stop with mere belief in a supernatural, but must also believe that they have a special relationship with the supernatural -- that they are somehow special, superior to the people around them. Human value is not quantifiable. One person or group of people is not worth more than another. Human beings have value because they are human beings, not because of their special circumstances with regard to wealth, skin color, sexuality, or belief in a supernatural. Human beings are capable of making ethical and moral choices, regardless of their religious affiliation or lack thereof. Human beings are also capable of making unethical and immoral choices, regardless of their religious affiliation or lack thereof. No one is special in that regard, or if you prefer, everyone is equally special in that regard.

That is really the thrust of these chapters of Isaiah, after all. People want reassurance that they will be alright. People want some kind of hope to which they might cling. People want confirmation that they are special and beloved. People want to believe that their city is strong and impervious, because their supernatural protects it. The problem is that the sort of hope and reassurance Isaiah offers is inevitably short-lived, or else it requires a great deal of cognitive dissonance. The promises made did not come to pass, and the interpretation of events does not stand up to scrutiny. If we wish to be honest and we wish to have sane and responsible beliefs, we need something else on which to place our hope. We need a different source of reassurance. While we could simply believe that we have a special elevated status above other human beings because a supernatural said so, this sort of belief does not really serve us if we want to participate in building a better world (or, as some believers might phrase it, if we want to participate in building the kingdom of God).

On what can we hope? Where can we find reassurance in the midst of personal or societal trials? Next week, we'll take a look at one possibility.

Isaiah 23: The Lenses through Which We Look

Should one decide that there is little in Isaiah's "oracles against the nations" to be translated into a twenty-first century life, that conclusion would be understandable. Aside from placing these writings in a historical context, some biblical scholars don't seem to know what to do with them either, and they don't all agree on the historical context. Isaiah 23 is the last specific pronouncement against a foreign power, however, before the book of Isaiah turns to focus more on the nation of Judah. After this passage, Yahweh's destruction is reported as being global, and his devotion to humanity is focused specifically on Jerusalem (which is profoundly problematic, but we'll wait to delve into that).

Isaiah 23 contains commentary on the cities of Tyre and Sidon, both situated in present-day Lebanon, about 40 miles apart. These cities were located in a coastal area along the Mediterranean that was important for commerce, so every major empire that came along found value in claiming them. Assyrians, Babylonians, Egyptians, Greeks, Romans, Ottoman Turks, Crusaders -- whoever was in power at the time controlled Tyre and Sidon. Now, the cities are more Muslim than the United States is Christian, so one might draw some interesting conclusions if one puts stock in the prophecy, "Her merchandise and her wages will be dedicated to the Lord; ...her merchandise will supply abundant food and fine clothing for those who live in the presence of the Lord."

It's interesting to note that people throughout history have read the words of their scriptures and interpreted them however they saw fit, and people frequently criticize interpretations and perspectives that differ from their own, even when there is not necessarily greater support for one view over the other. We often hold our own perspectives in rather high esteem. Authors can only write from their own perspective, though, and the authors of Isaiah reveal some things about their perspective. Historically, it would have been unsurprising for a growing empire to take control of Tyre and Sidon, and Assyria controlled not only Tyre and Sidon, but also Babylon for a time (which could have been the land of the Chaldeans referred to in verse 13). 

The coastal cities were too useful to simply be destroyed, however. Isaiah 23 suggests that the cities will be like prostitutes, which is an interesting pre-Capitalist view toward international trade. An honest look at "free" economy in the twenty-first century might warrant the same criticism, that people are made to prostitute themselves to those who hold the power. For the authors of this passage, Yahweh is eventually going to make use of and benefit from the prostitute Tyre. Try convincing your preacher to speak about that on Sunday morning. Interestingly, the authors throw in a reference to a folk song in verse 16, which might make one wonder how many other poetic turns of phrase in scripture are taken from unacknowledged vernacular entertainment of the day. Perhaps even more interesting is that Sanchuniathon, a Phoenecian historian, seems to have cast Sidon as a daughter of gods and the originator of melodic singing. Could this mythology have influenced the authors of this oracle?

We can't know the complete cultural or historical perspective that influenced the writing of Isaiah 23 (or any other bit of scripture). What we can see clearly is that the authors began with a particular understanding of the world and interpreted events through that lens. For the writers of Isaiah, the clear assumption is that Yahweh is in control, that their god is powerful enough to orchestrate events on a global scale, and that human actions prompt divine response. If a nation or a city is besieged, Yahweh is interpreted as the commander of the attacking forces if they win, and he is interpreted as the protector of the defending community if the attackers withdraw. In order to preserve their view of the divine, they cast a vision of the future in which all people understand the power and righteousness of their god -- in which everyone sees the world as they do.

Human beings have adopted a strange stance with regard to our beliefs. We think that other people agreeing with us somehow legitimizes our beliefs. If others see the world as we do, then our perspective must be accurate, right? Not necessarily. Yet, when our beliefs are challenged by people who disagree with us, we don't reconsider our beliefs; we don't think, "Hmmm, maybe I was wrong about this. Let me consider this other perspective carefully." Instead, we often become belligerent, insisting that other people see things as we do. We are often just afraid of being wrong about what we believe; we won't allow our perspective of reality to grow into something new. 

So, we interpret everything through a particular lens, to the point that we are often willing to dismiss or ignore those things that do not fit cleanly with our perspective. The argument of Isaiah seems to go something like: Yahweh is in control of everything. Thus, every military action is approved by him, and he uses military forces to jealously punish people who worship other gods. Thus, when our own communities are overrun by foreign powers, Yahweh is ultimately behind it. Thus, rather than looking at political or military weaknesses, we should figure out why Yahweh would want this to happen to us and fix that problem. Then, we will have success against foreign military forces, because Yahweh will protect us.

Some people today look through a similar lens, making some assumptions before considering any facts. Just as the authors of Isaiah made some assumptions about their god before interpreting events around them, many people today assume first of all that their beliefs about the world are accurate, then they look at the world and fit what they see into their assumptions. We could go into the multitude of problems that arise from the assumption that God is in control, but it might be more constructive to consider starting from a different set of assumptions. We will always have beliefs that create a lens through which we see the world, but we could embrace the possibility that our lens grows and develops as we encounter the world. In other words, we could start with the assumption that we don't know everything. When we claim that God is in control, we pretend to know something that we can't know. There is no way to grow from that perspective. The only option is to force our experience into a particular box -- and to discard or ignore whatever doesn't fit in that box. A bit of honesty about the limits of human knowledge would suggest that we can grow in our perspective. That's one really useful assumption to make: We don't yet know all that we could know.

Here's another assumption we might make, another lens through which we might choose to see the world: Human hands can solve human problems. When we recognize that our current reality doesn't match our hopes for the world, we have an opportunity to create a better world. We aren't necessarily in charge of military decisions or international politics, but when we acknowledge that human beings make those decisions, and not an omniscient supernatural, we look through a lens of human responsibility. Once we are able to acknowledge that human beings are responsible for their decisions, we can be empowered in our own lives to be personally responsible for the things we do get to decide. If a supernatural is in control of everything that will happen in the world, there isn't much for human beings to do except sit back and watch. When we accept our own role in creating a better world, we might catch a glimpse of the kind of world we most want to live in.

Through what lens are you looking? Is there room for that perspective to grow? Does your lens empower and inspire you to live toward a best possible version of yourself? To contribute somehow to a better world? How you look at the world determines how you are in the world, and you have some choice in the lens you look through.

Compassion for the Moabite Refugees in Isaiah 16:1–12

Often, where the prophets of Hebrew scripture criticize injustice in Israel or Judah, they are referring to the leadership of those nations. Only a minority of people had the power to create policy, the authority to influence how other nations responded to the Israelites, and the wealth to steer the course of Israelite culture. In Isaiah 16, the oracle against Moab describes a scene of massive adversity in that nation, yet while the words of Isaiah pronounce judgment on the leadership of Moab, they prompt compassion for the refugees—the common people of the nation who suffer because of the poor decisions of their leaders. These words may tell us something of the perceived relationship between Judah and Moab, and they also offer some insight regarding a universalized sense of political responsibility that held the powerful accountable while recognizing the powerlessness of most people, regardless of their nationality. If the words of Isaiah are thought to be meaningful for twenty-first century readers, they perhaps hold some judgment against prejudice in personal life and in political decisions, as well as admonition for compassion toward refugees and aliens seeking greater safety and better living conditions.

For the purposes of this inquiry, focus will be on Is 16:1–12. As Kaiser and others observe, 16:13–14 are obvious additions to the text.[1] Although the oracle clearly begins in Is 15:1, it is in chapter 16 that one reads of an appropriate response by the intended audience of the text. Some repetition of material exists between the two chapters, and the oracle does not necessarily flow as well as some commentators would prefer, which has led some to conclude

that the text of this oracle was assembled from several previously existing poems.[2] Hamborg suggests that some of the more sympathetic material here may be Moabite poetry that the author of this oracle co-opted, transforming a sympathetic plea into a statement of judgment.[3] While this is possible, the theory does presume some unknowable characteristics of the author of Isaiah 16 (as does Hamborg’s overall conclusions). Since no source poems for Is 16 and Jer 48 are extant, any discussion about their use for this oracle is pure conjecture, although the existence of Nm 21:27–30 is provocative. It is clear that portions of this oracle appear in Jer 48:29–38, although nothing from Is 16:1–6 appears in Jer 48. There are many possible explanations for this, including that (a) Isaiah in some earlier form (with 16:1–6 not yet part of its composition) was in the hands of the author of Jer 48, (b) common previously existing material was used for both Is 15–16  and Jer 48, (c) original portions of Jer were omitted by a compiler, or (d) material from Jer 48 was added to Is 15–16 at some point. No evidence to support any of these theories exists, however, and thus it must be enough that the commonality between these two oracles against Moab is recognized.

Another problem with placing Is 15–16 is that much is still unknown regarding Moabite history. Conflicts with Moab are reported in 2 Kgs and 2 Sm, and it is known that “at the end of the war against Syria and Ephraim the Moabite king Salamanu appears among the tributaries of the Assyrian emperor Toglash-Pileser III.”[4] However, Moab was involved in several conflicts as a subject of Assyria and later as a subject of Babylon, such that several incidents could have sparked a mass flight of the victims of violence from Moab into a neighboring nation. Unlike the oracles of Ezekiel, Isaianic oracles do not reference specific political events; instead, the leader of Moab is accused of arrogance (16:6; cf. Jer 48:7, 27, 29 –30), an accusation that might be reasonably leveled at any leader of any nation at some point, but one consistently aimed at Moab in the Hebrew scriptures (cf. Ez 25:8–11; Am 2:1–3; Zep 2:8–11). Hamborg interprets the sin of pride as a general thoroughgoing motif in Hebrew prophetic oracles, and he specifically sees the oracles in Isaiah as expressions of disapproval for Judah’s alliances with other nations.[5] Hamborg’s evidence, however, is unconvincing (although a greater body of evidence may have been amassed since); at the very least, the oracle against Moab clearly represents events, in which Judah was not involved, happening to the nation of Moab. While opinions may vary as to what the oracle recommends as Judaic response to the refugees from Moab, it is obvious that Judah was not involved in the events that resulted in the Moabites’ flight.

There is a common ancestry between Moab and Judah, according to biblical genealogies, however. Kunin notes that when peoples share genealogical closeness with the Israelites, ideological differences are magnified by the Hebrew scripture.[6] For Kunin, it is significant that the Moabites were “of the same generation as the Israelites and born without the mediation of a concubine.”[7] Over time, the Israelite attitude toward the Moabites shifted from negative to more neutral, as indicated by a Talmudic weakening of the commandment in Dt 23:3, which forbade Moabite converts to Judaism (Ber. 28a; Yeb. 69a; 76a). There is thus a sense that the Moabites became less ideologically problematic for Judah over time, although the Israelite perspective never turned entirely positive toward the nation of Moab.  

The oracle against Moab begins in Isaiah 15; as it continues in 16:1, the refugees of Moab are clearly not safe in their own land. They are counseled to send a tribute ahead of them to the leader of Judah (Is 16:1). Fleeing to the southern border of Moab, refugees will be like a flock of inexperienced birds, scattered from the safety of their nest (Is 16:2). The verses that follow this colorful description of the Moabite flight are placed in quotes in most English translations, and it may thus be unwarranted to suggest that the author of this passage is advising Judah to comply with the requests of these refugees. Given the subsequent assurance that the eventual reality in Judah will be an end to extortion and oppression, and a rule based on tender benevolence, justice, and righteousness (Is 16:4b–5), it does seem that the words of Isaiah bend in the direction of compassion for those who are fleeing extortion, oppression, and injustice. If this is accepted, then the author of this passage may be seen to instruct the people of Judah to welcome the refugees from Moab, to shelter them from the harm inflicted on them by their leaders’ poor decisions, because it characterizes the justice and compassion that will one day reign in Judah.

In this instance, then, when the author of this passage refers to Moab in 16:6 and 16:12, the leader of Moab is the individual critiqued, while in verses 7 and 11, “Moab” may refer to the entire people of the nation. On the other hand, if one envisions a supernatural who can be both responsible for a city’s (or a people’s) destruction and saddened to the point of drenching the city in bitter tears, one might consider that supernatural also capable of having a mournful heart about a leader who wearies himself at ineffectual tasks (16:11).

Other place names within this passage may refer to sites of actual upheaval, or they may be symbolic. Kir-hareseth was a fortified city, a significant landmark in Moab from Judah’s past interactions (2 Ki 3). Although Heshbon had been possessed by Ammon and Israel at various points, its occurrence here and in Jeremiah’s oracle against Moab suggest that the city was under the control of Moab at some time as well (Jer 48). Similarly, Sibmah was at Mount Pisgah, near Heshbon and near Moab’s borders with Ammon and Israel, which may have shifted many times over the course of biblical history (Jo 13:8–23). Nm 32:37–39 suggests that the Israelite tribe of Reuben built these two cities, although this may be an exaggerated ethnocentric account. Jazer was also a city that had been in the control of Ammon at some point, and it played a significant role in Israelite history (Nm 21:23–33; 32:1– 36; Jo 13:25; 21:38–39; 2 Sm 24:5; cf. 1 Chr 6: 80–81; 26:31); like Heshbon, it is mentioned as a city of Moab in both Isaiah’s and Jeremiah’s oracles, indicating that the border city also changed hands. Much later than this passage in Isaiah, Judas Maccabeus captured and burned the city of Jazer, according to Josephus (Ant. xii. 8, § 1). Elealeh was another city in this collection of border communities in the northern area of Moab, mentioned in both the Isaiah and Jeremiah oracles against Moab (Jer 48); it too changed hands between Ammon, Israel, and Moab (Nm 32:1–39). 

Since all of these cities are clustered in northern Moab, in an area that was potentially contested between Ammon, Israel, and Moab, it may indicate something about how connected the nation of Judah and the nation of Israel were at the time this passage was written. It is noteworthy that the beginning of this oracle in Is 15 mentions a collection of communities in the south of Moab. One may wonder whether Moab faced violence on all sides, or whether these passages were originally addressing different events altogether. Whatever the case, the author of Is 16 seems to have no sense of vindication regarding these communities, but expresses compassion for the people who flee to the south, toward Judah. The author portrays the deity Yahweh as weeping bitterly,[8] drenching the cities with his tears (16:9); his “heart murmurs like a harp for Moab” (16:11), reminiscent of the minstrel who accompanied Elisha’s prophecy regarding Moab in 2 Kings 3:15.

The refugees from Moab are the victims in this scenario. The leader, whoever it may have been in the historical context of this oracle, was too proud for his own good—too arrogant for the good of his nation (16:6). This accusation is almost identical to that of Jeremiah 48:29, followed by wailing and mourning (Jer 48:31–33), just as the accusation is followed in Isaiah (16:7–11). Any details about the manner in which this arrogance was displayed in practical reality are not specified, presumably because the reader would already know such details. Most likely, the destruction of Moab on which this oracle comments was at the hands of the Assyrians, but there is no indication here regarding the relationship between Moab and Assyria. It is clear, however, that the leader of Moab prays to an ineffectual deity (16:12), which spurs criticism from this prophet of Judah. It is curious that Yahweh was no more effective in protecting the Israelites; they had to evolve their theological understanding of their supernatural in order to make sense of their circumstances. In a later age, one might caution the prophet to tend to the plank in the eye of his own people primarily rather than pronouncing judgment on all of the neighboring nations.

That 16:4b–5 promise a future righteous leader on the throne of David may perhaps seem like poor consolation for the fleeing Moabites is one reason that some commentators believe that this passage is stitched together from other pre-existing poems.[9] Perhaps it is congruous with the overall context of Isaiah, considering that all the nations are anticipated to one day stream to Jerusalem for wisdom from Yahweh (Is 2:2–4). One must also consider that the prophetic words were not missives to neighboring countries, but rather to the leaders of Judah. In addition to making sense of their own circumstances, they needed to understand the circumstances of the peoples around them in terms of their evolving theology. Moreover, this oracle is not intended to provoke jeers for Moab, but rather to embrace the refugees from that country with compassion, as if the prophet is saying, “at a certain level, these people are just like us, except that we will have nowhere to run.” The words of 16:3–4a are thus not merely a report of what was cried out by the fleeing population of Moab, but a command to the people of Judah: Welcome these people who need your aid; do not deny the fugitives hospitality. As Kaiser points out, the Moabites were “seeking the status of a gēr, a protected person, which was associated with permission to reside in a foreign country (cf, e.g. Gen. 15.13; Ruth 1.1 and II Sam. 4.3).”[10]

One indication that the thrust of the passage is to incite compassion for these refugees is the sense of sincere lamentation at their plight (16:6–11). As Brueggemann notes, “the listener is called to wail with Moab.”[11] Long finds similarities between the form here (perhaps intended to be the words of Yahweh) and the form of funeral lamentations throughout the ancient (and modern) Near East.[12] Although the speaker of the words of grief is not made known, if the assumption in all of the oracles is that the prophet is speaking on behalf of the supernatural, then here it is Yahweh weeping and drenching the refugees of Moab with his tears. Lalleman also finds the Isaianic oracle against Moab to be more of a long lament, while the oracle against Moab in Jeremiah intersperses lament words with “many threatening words of judgment and doom.”[13] From Long’s perspective, there is a trajectory of development of such passages, beginning with a lament that is not attributed to Yahweh (because of a cultural understanding of Yahweh that prohibited divine laments in this form) and progressing through theological developments such that “at a later stage of development this restriction was lifted to allow Yahweh to utter funeral laments—but only with overtones of taunt, threat, and punishment.”[14] One might note even further nuance if one recognizes the distinction between the leader of Moab and his subjects; the divine may weep for the innocent and the oppressed while exacting brutal judgment against an arrogant and ineffectual leader.

Kaiser seems to miss the overall context of the Isaianic eschatology, however, when he suggests that 16:6 is exclusively a taunt to the people of Moab, and that 16:4b–5 conveys a situation that is exclusive to Judah and of no benefit to the Moabites. He sees the oracle as entirely future tense, imagining that one day, the Israelites will have their idealized righteous ruler—with the accompanying peace and justice in the land of Judah—and that the Moabites who seek refuge will be turned away.[15] Aside from overlooking the prediction of Is 2:2–4, Kaiser assumes a rather tribal and localized eschatology for the Israelites. Either his interpretation of justice and peace is limited and ethnocentric, or he believes that the Isaianic interpretation of justice and peace was limited. Johnston sees 16:4b–5 in the context of “Judean subjugation of Moab,”[16] which has some historical precedence, although certainly not under the conditions of supreme justice and peace that 16:4b–5 heralds. Goldingay interprets something slightly different from subjugation when he connects Isaiah’s oracles against the nations to Is 24–27, in which it becomes clear that “the nations’ destiny in relation to Yhwh is thus not so different from Israel’s destiny.”[17] Everyone will eventually be gathered under the banner of equity, justice, compassion, and righteousness if Isaiah’s vision of the eschatological future holds true. On the other hand, perhaps Kaiser is correct to assume that Israel’s response to Moabite fugitives in 16:6 was intended to be a taunting refusal at the border, with a hubris-laced, “We’re all set here; sorry your king is so incompetent,” in which case the underlying lesson that pride comes before a fall would be ironically two-fold. Twenty-first century readers have nothing to gain from this oracle if that is the case, since it would then be a prognostication that proved to be inaccurate for a people that no longer exist. Perhaps Brueggemann’s insight is appropriate, that although just cause for the suffering of Moab is understood, “this song of grief is not interested in blame. The costs and hurts are too massive and acute for moralizing.”[18]

Even if the text is taken as an admonition toward compassion, there is no common situation by which twenty-first century Americans can connect with the initial audience for this text.[19] America is the Assyria of the situation in Isaiah 16, conquering with wealth and technology, in addition to military action where it is efficacious. There is something of the perceived character of Yahweh in Isaiah 16 that should alarm those in the developed world who consider themselves godly, and yet long for secure borders and the continued conservation of wealth. Even though the leader of Moab is misguided, arrogant, and devoted to an ineffectual supernatural, the plight of the people of Moab still prompts compassion. Yahweh expects his representatives to offer justice, refuge, and wise counsel, not because the asylum seekers can offer something of value, but because they are beloved human beings. From a certain perspective, one might say that the Moabites were made as much in the image of God as the Israelites. 

When one sees that the Yahweh of Isaiah 16 is against oppression and against self-indulgent destruction of others, one must find wanting foreign policies and practices of corporations that exacerbate systematic poverty and hinder multidimensional well-being (shalom). When one sees that the Yahweh of Isaiah 16 favors leaders who demonstrate mercy, seek justice, and are swift to do what is right (or what leads to multidimensional well-being), one must conclude that the political leaders of America, and perhaps other countries of the developed world, are often not nearly as godly as they would claim. With specific regard to the attitude toward fugitives, if one wishes to apply the mindset of Isaiah 16 in the twenty-first century, one must at least promote open borders and open access to housing and healthcare. Given the global nature of humanity in the twenty-first century, one might well extend such efforts beyond the artificial borders of a nation and strive to support—at the very least—the accommodation of basic human needs for all people, regardless of geography, culture, or religious tradition. The implications of this passage, however, are that God will establish a new paradigm of leader, just as God is ultimately responsible for the destruction wrought by Assyria. If one believes that God alone will accomplish what he wants in his own timing, then there is nothing to be accomplished by human action and twenty-first century believers are justified in abdicating responsibility to their supernatural. Some might also posit that, if a supernatural has not effected a sustainable society of justice, equity, and compassion over the course of more than 3000 years, perhaps it makes more sense to devote human efforts toward solving human problems.

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1. Otto Kaiser, Isaiah 13–39: A Commentary, The Old Testament Library, ed. Peter Ackroyd, et al, tr. R.A. Wilson (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1974), 60.  

2. This is the conclusion of G. R. Hamborg, “Reasons for Judgement in the Oracles against the Nations in the Prophet Isaiah,” Vetus Testamentum 31, no. 2 (1981), 150. ATLA Religion Database with ATLASerials, EBSCOhost (accessed Feb 11, 2014). Kaiser mentions others who have drawn this conclusion, Isaiah, 60.

3. Hamborg, “Reasons,” 151.

4. Kaiser, Isaiah, 63.

5. Hamborg, “Reasons,” 145–59.

6. Seth D. Kunin, “Israel and the Nations: A Structuralist Survey,” Journal for the Study of the Old Testament 82 (Mar 1999), 19. ATLA Religion Database with ATLASerials, EBSCOhost (accessed Feb 11, 2014).  

7. Ibid., 33. 

8. Even Oswalt finds it “tempting to see the person being referred to [in Is 16:9, 11] as God, since he is clearly the referent in verse 10.” John N. Oswalt, The NIV Application Commentary: Isaiah, The NIV Application Commentary Series, Terry Muck, ed. (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2003), 224.

 

9. Kaiser, Isaiah, 71.

10. Kaiser, Isaiah, 72.

11. Walter Brueggemann, Isaiah Vol. 1: Chapters 1–39, Westminster Bible Companion, Patrick D. Miller and David L. Bartlett, ed. (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1998), 144.

  

12. Burke O. Long, “Divine Funeral Lament,” Journal of Biblical Literature 85, no 1 (Mar 1966), 85. ATLA Religion Database with ATLASerials, EBSCOhost (accessed Feb 6, 2014).

13. Hetty Lalleman, Jeremiah and Lamentations, Tyndale Old Testament Commentaries 21, ed. David G. Firth (Downer’s Grove: InterVarsity, 2013), 286.

14. Burke, “Lament,” 86.

15. Kaiser, Isaiah, 72–73.

16. Philip S. Johnston, “Faith in Isaiah,” Interpreting Isaiah: Issues and Approaches, ed. David G. Firth and H. G. M. Williamson (Downer’s Grove: InterVarsity, 2009), 112.

17. John Goldingay, “The Theology of Isaiah,” Interpreting Isaiah: Issues and Approaches, ed. David G. Firth and H.G.M. Williamson (Downer’s Grove: InterVarsity, 2009), 183.

18. Brueggemann, Isaiah, 145.

19. Oswalt suggests that “cruel Death will make us all refugees in the end, leaving all we have on the road to be pillaged by those who come after us,” (Oswalt, Isaiah, 227). Oswalt misses the fact that refugees actively seek refuge, something that the dead cannot do. Is 16 clearly places some people in the position of seeking aid and others in the position of being able to grant it; although the people of Judah would be driven from their own land as well, that was not the reality in mind for the author of Is 16. Personal theology can be a profoundly limiting lens through which to read  a text, as Oswalt demonstrates when he claims that “in this world the only certainty is death and loss,” (Oswalt, Isaiah, 228). One must at least acknowledge that life must precede death and that gain must precede loss, thus the certainty of death and loss assumes the certainty of life and gain; where one chooses to focus and what one chooses to celebrate are personal choices.