Posts Tagged ‘Solomon’

Who is in and who is out?

January 4, 2014

Epiphany 2014

Matthew 2:1-12

Marian Free

In the name of God, whose love knows no bounds and creates no boundaries for those who would love God in return. Amen.

I imagine that many of you have seen the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding. It is a wonderful, light-hearted look at a family of Greek migrants in the United States. Like many migrants, they have formed their own sub-community and have done what they can to maintain their culture in a new and strange land. One of the ways in which this extended family can ensure that their traditions are maintained is to insist that their offspring marry someone of Greek descent who will be like them. The movie follows a young woman, her desire to build her own life and to marry the American man with whom she has fallen in love. We watch in agony as her Father parades a number of less-than-attractive but suitable Greek men before he is persuaded to give in and allow her to marry the man of her choice. Along the way we observe the difficulties of two different cultures coming to grips with each other and the migrants letting go of their rigid insistence on remaining apart.

 Of course, the movie is an exaggeration but I grew up in a Brisbane in which recent Mediterranean migrants mostly lived in West End with others who shared their language and ate their food. The supermarket in that suburb was stocked with huge tins of olive oil and the fruit shops introduced us to exotic vegetables like zucchini (which as a child I could have well done without)!

It is human nature to seek out those who support and encourage us, to find those with whom we have something in common, to mix with those who share our background, language and history. Migrants in particular often form communities in the new countries in which they find themselves. Living close to those who have shared their past and their journey to another world provides a sense of continuity, makes the present less strange and makes it easier to practice one’s faith, to cook the foods one is used to and to speak a familiar language and be understood. 

From what we can glean from the New Testament Judaism, in the first century at least, had very clear boundaries and cultural identifiers. According to Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus claimed to have come for “the lost sheep of Israel”, and all the Gospels make a clear distinction between those who are Jews and those who are not. Paul’s letters to the Romans and Galatians indicate just how strong Jewish ethnic boundaries were and how effective they had been in keeping others out. These included adherence to the law – including dietary regulations and purity laws – the circumcision of every male and belief in the one God.

These borders appear to have been fiercely guarded. Outsiders who admired and practiced the faith usually only obtained the status of “God-fearers” and were never fully included as members of “God’s chosen people”.

It is difficult to know if this was always the case, but almost certainly the experience of the exile (500 years before Jesus), would have served to define and harden national identity. It would make sense that those living in exile in Babylon would have placed an emphasis on those characteristics that distinguished them from the culture around them. (We see in the Book of Daniel a description of how some people responded to living in a culture vastly different from their own. In the face of great opposition, and at the risk of his life, Daniel holds fast to his identity and refuses to compromise his beliefs and the practices associated with his faith.)

When the exiles return home they have a clearer vision of who they are, but it is not long before they are again under foreign rule – this time in their own land. By the time that Jesus is born, Palestine has been ruled by foreign powers for over three hundred years. It would be reasonable to suppose that this too created a need for them to preserve their unique identity, to stress their distinctiveness and so claim their place in the world. Those who had left Palestine and settled in other parts of the Empire may (like today’s migrants) have drawn in on themselves and stressed the importance of the things that made them different from the world around them.

For Christians reading the Old Testament, the exclusiveness of first century Judaism is harder to understand. Books like the book of Ruth and Jonah tell, in different ways, the story of God’s concern for and desire to include every nation in the covenant that God made with Abraham. Ruth is a Moabite (non-Jewish) woman who becomes the forebear of David and therefore of the expected Saviour. Jonah’s task is to warn the Ninevites (non-Jews) of God’s wrath and to urge them to repent. According to the Book of Kings, the Queen of Sheba travels to meet King Solomon, to pay homage and to listen to his wisdom and according to the prophet Isaiah, Cyrus, the Persian King is God’s anointed or Messiah. In more than one Psalm, the author sees a time when the whole world will stream to Jerusalem. As we read the Old Testament, it seems clear that God’s intention was always to include the Gentiles.

 By the first century, possibly because the Jewish people were feeling so embattled, they had not only drawn clear lines around themselves but, from what we can tell, they had come to the conclusion that a Jewish Saviour would only save the Jews – or those who were prepared to become Jews. This created a dilemma for the early believers. Many Gentiles had come to faith in Jesus just as they had and what is more, they too had received the gift of the Holy Spirit as a result of that faith. Could they be excluded from membership in this new community simply because they were not Jews by birth? The answer was “no”. Both Acts and the letter to the Galatians tell us that the issue was resolved at a council held in Jerusalem. Rather than be compelled to become Jews, Gentile converts were required only to observe a minimum number of practices in order to belong.

A different dilemma faced the Gospel writers who, some twenty years later, had to confront the reality that Jesus, the Jewish Saviour, had made a greater impact on the Gentiles than he had on the Jews. In order to resolve this puzzle, it was important that they discover and record the evidence that Jesus’ ministry clearly demonstrated an intention to include the Gentiles. In the Gospels there are accounts of Jesus commending Gentiles who exhibit more faith than the Jews, of a Canaanite woman who argues that her daughter deserves to be healed, Jesus’ command to make disciples of all nations and his promise that the disciples will receive the Holy Spirit and be his witnesses to the ends of the earth.

It is in this context that we are to understand Matthew’s account of the coming of the Magi. The author of Matthew, whom we believe was writing for a primarily Jewish community, needed to make it clear that right from the very beginning of the story, Jesus was recognised and worshipped by Gentiles. Furthermore, these magicians – astrologers or scholars – were no ordinary people, but, like the Queen of Sheba who visited Solomon, they were people of significance and wealth who come to pay homage to a Jewish Saviour. In this way the author of Matthew establishes that, from his infancy, Jesus was identified as the Saviour not only of the Jews but of the whole world. The implication being that if Jesus is the Saviour of the world, then those who are not Jews by birth or practice can and should be included in the worshipping community. Anyone who has faith in Jesus can belong.

It is always a mistake to try to second-guess God, to believe that we can determine who is in and who is out, who to include and who to exclude. If we are rigid and exclusive, if we insist that only those who behave in a certain way can belong, we are in danger of drawing our boundaries too close and of failing to see what God is doing in the world.

Who do we exclude and why? If anyone who has faith can belong, who are we to decide who is in and who is out?

 

 

Will God indeed dwell on earth?

June 1, 2013

Pentecost 2 2013

1 Kings 8

Marian Free

 In the name of God who is always with us and yet always just beyond our reach. Amen.

“But will God indeed dwell on earth with us?” These words spoken by Solomon at the dedication of the Temple never cease to amaze me.  The most extravagant Temple has just been completed and as Solomon begins the prayer of dedication, he admits that it will not be a place that will be able to hold God.

When Israel journeyed through the wilderness the Tablets of the Law were kept in an ark, which in turn was kept in the Tent of Meeting. Every time the people broke camp, the Tent would be dismantled and whenever they stopped it would be erected. Even when the Israelites finally settled in the promised land, the Tent remained the place in which they worshipped. It was not until David became King that anyone thought to do anything different.

Having finally settled in Jerusalem, David built himself a magnificent palace. However, it was only when his own home was completed that David realises that while he has furnished himself with somewhere splendid to live, God still (figuratively at least) lives in a tent. He determines to rectify the situation and build a Temple for God.  Initially the prophet Nathan encourages David in that plan, but that same night the prophet is given a message for the King. “Are you the one to build me a house to live in? I have not lived in a house since the day I brought up the people of Israel. Have I ever asked: “why have you not built me a house of cedar?” (2 Samuel 7:7).  God, it appears, does not require a house.

That would seem to be the end of the story, however, according to the Book of Kings, David was prevented from building a Temple not only because God rejected the idea, but also because he was constantly engaged in conflict and not settled enough to carry out a building project. So it was that when Solomon was established as king and the nation was at was peace, Solomon began the process of building the Temple of his father’s dream. Apparently the building was a huge undertaking. Solomon is said to have conscripted 30,000 men to work on the building in shifts of 10,000 a month. On top of that there were 70,000 labourers, 80,0000 stonecutters and 3,3000 supervisors, not to mention the various artisans who carved the timber and cast the bronze.

It is hard to imagine the wealth and extravagance of the building. According to the Book of Kings, both the interior and exterior were overlaid with gold including the floor. The pillars were bronze every surface appears to have been covered in carvings. All the vessels were bronze or gold as were the candlesticks, snuffers, basins and so on.

At last the Temple is complete and the day of dedication arrives. All of Israel is gathered to witness the ark being brought up into the Temple and Solomon begins to address the people: “The Lord has said that he would dwell in thick darkness. I have built an exalted house, a place for you to dwell in forever.”

The King continues by explaining why he has built the Temple and praising God for the covenant that God has made with David to establish David’s house forever. It is then that the King appears to be pulled up short. The God of Israel is unlike any other God, there is no God like him in the heaven above or on earth below. It seems that as Solomon utters those words he is reminded that no Temple, no matter how splendid or lavish it is sufficient to contain God. The God whom he addresses simply cannot be confined by four walls. All the effort and all the expense that has been poured into the Temple will not be able to keep God in one place or to make God answerable to the people.

That said, the exercise of building the Temple has not been a waste of time. God may not be able to be contained, but that does not mean that the Temple has no purpose. Solomon sees that it can provide a place in which the people can strengthen their relationship with and dependence on God. It can be a place in which they address their concerns to God, seek forgiveness or ask for God’s help. Solomon’s prayer turns in this direction as he asks that God’s eyes be “open day and night toward this house” and asks that God will respond to the prayer of the people, hear their cry and forgive them when they ask.

Throughout the ages, those who believe have built places of great beauty in which they can worship God. Whether they be Cathedrals or Parish churches, built by Kings or by the people, they represent  – not an attempt to restrict God – but a desire to demonstrate through the construction of a place of worship, love of, faith in and gratitude towards God. God cannot be contained even by the highest heaven – let alone the grandest structures that we can erect. God cannot be manipulated or cajoled, or bound to us by anything other than God’s love for us. We cannot force God’s hand through strength or weakness.

We can however continue to trust in God’s love and God’s presence with us and reach out in prayer and worship, in penitence and gratitude, in our churches and in our day-to-day lives confident that God will hear and respond. We can continue to offer God our very best – not to ensure that God is obligated to us, but to demonstrate through such offerings our thanksgiving and praise.

Building a house for God

August 25, 2012

 

Pentecost 13

1 Kings 8

Marian Free

 

In the name of God whose majesty, might and power we cannot comprehend and cannot begin to contain. Amen.

‘Yahweh had been tamed and domesticated. He had been put in his house and told to expect visitors, he was to be available as required. but could you do that to Abraham’s God who always travelled ahead of his people? Could you do that to the terrifying God of Exodus and Sinai, the God who was no one’s puppet? In the years to come there were to be many questions about the Temple. For all its exquisite beauty, for all then hopes and longings of the pilgrims who wound their way up to Jerusalem, there were many who saw the Temple as a danger to the true worship of the Lord. Could a God who had always been on the move be made to stand still?’

One only has to see the footage of the crowds at the ‘wailing wall’ in Jerusalem or to reflect on the tensions that surround the Temple Mount or the Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem to understand the place of the Temple in the Jewish imagination. The history of the Temple is filled with drama. It was dreamt of by David, built by Solomon, destroyed by the Babylonians, re-built by the Jews, extended by Herod and finally and to this date, irrevocably, destroyed by the Romans. Until its destruction by Rome, the Temple was the centre and the unifying element for the Jewish people. Up until the time of Jesus thousands flocked to Jerusalem for the major religious festivals. Week by week the priests made burnt offerings of behalf of the people.

The Temple was not like our Parish churches, or even our modern Cathedrals. Weekly services of worship were not held in its precincts. Synagogues were the places for meeting and teaching. The Temple was for worship and sacrifice. The worship of our Cathedrals is replicated in our Parish churches which are modeled on their design. In the time of Solomon there were no synagogues and when, after the return from exile, synagogues were established in towns and villages, their purpose was far removed from that of the temple. Nothing and nowhere could achieve the purpose and significance of the Temple.

The original Temple was quite small by our standards. It was not so much a place of worship, but a place in which offerings could be made.  As we can see from the description of the dedication of the Temple, worshippers may have gathered around its walls during the great festivals, but they were not expected to enter in large numbers. The holiest of holies – the place in which the burnt offerings were made – could only be entered by an allotted priest.

Visits to the Vatican and other European cathedrals reveal the sort of generosity that believers pour out to express their devotion to God. By all accounts Solomon’s Temple, despite its size, would surpass them all in extravagance. From the time of the Exodus to the time of David, Yahweh had been worshipped in the tent of meeting which could be packed up and re-erected as the Israelites travelled to the promised land. When David succeeded Saul as King, he built himself a splendid palace. It was only when his home was complete that he was struck by the fact that while he lived in a palace, God was only provided with a tent. This was not a problem for God of course, who forbade David from building a Temple. The fact that this task was then given to Solomon indicates that this was not a permanent ban.

Planning for the Temple began while David was still alive, but building only started in earnest when Solomon acceded to the throne and peace with neighboring countries had been established. According to the first book of Kings the building of the Temple was quite an undertaking. The timber alone took 30,000 men to cut it in shifts of 10,000 at a time. At the quarry there 70,000 labourers, 80,000 stonecutters and 3,300 supervisors. The interior of the building was completely covered with the timber much of which was elaborately carved. All of the interior and its decoration was completely covered in pure gold. On top of this were all the various furnishings and vessels which were likewise made of gold or other precious metals. It must have been completely overwhelming – a house fit for God who was no longer housed in conditions below that of the king.

After all that expenditure and all that effort why Solomon’s moment of doubt? At the very moment at which the Temple is to be dedicated Solomon is struck by one thing – God cannot be contained. There is no human structure that is able to hold and house God, not even something of such splendour and beauty. In the midst of his prayer he exclaims: “But will God indeed dwell on the earth? Even heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain you, much less this house that I have built!” The nature of his prayer changes as a result of his insight. As he acknowledges that God cannot be forced to stay still he prays that God will respond to those who pray in the Temple, that God will hear the prayers of those who turn towards the Temple and respond to those who so for forgiveness. Solomon asks not only for the people of Israel, but for anyone who would turn to Israel’s God in prayer.

The quote with which I began captures Solomon’s dilemma. God who had spoken to Moses in the burning bush, God who had led the people out of Egypt in a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night, God who had thundered from Mt Sinai when the law was given was not to be bound but to be acknowledged, worshipped and adored. The Temple was and only ever could be a sign of the people’s loyalty, recognition of and obedience to that God.

It is wonderful to have beautiful places in which to offer prayer and praise to God. It is natural to want to offer to God our very best – in buildings, in furnishings and in sacred vessels. However it is important to recognize – as did Solomon – that these are simply expressions of our love. However lavish and beautiful they are, they cannot trap God into remaining still, they cannot be used to insist that God has an obligation to us. God is greater and more magnificent than anything that we can build and cannot be limited by time or space.

We will continue to build places of beauty and awe, but nothing will ever be as awesome as the real thing. We should not be blinded by human edifices – whether our buildings, our institutions or anything else we have created to help us express our faith – but should constantly and fearfully open ourselves to the presence of God wherever we are and wherever we may be.