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The Book of Daniel
A new series for the summer…
Wednesday 3rd July – Daniel 3:1-12 ‘Following the crowd’
Humans are social beings (as well as spiritual ones!). We are made to relate, and we also have a deep desire to ‘find our place’ in the community. We all know what peer pressure feels like – that subtle power to conform to a particular set of expectations, or ‘approved’ beliefs or behaviours.
Daniel chapter 3 is all about control (on the part of King Nebuchadnezzar) and courage (on the part of Daniel’s friends Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego). At the heart of both themes is the question of conformity. The king demands conformity to cement his power; the friends refuse because they worship Someone even greater.
I love the narrative of this chapter, because the endless repetition of the job titles (vv2,3) and the musical instruments (vv5,7,10) uses language to weave a narrative of conformity. The underlying message is: ‘everyone is falling into line, whether they like it or not – so should you!’
But Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego don’t fall into line. Not because they like rebelling for the sake of it, but because only one Being deserves their worship and adoration: the Lord God Almighty. Indeed, the astrologers testify to it in their denunciation to the king: ‘They neither serve your gods nor worship the image of gold.’ (v12)
As orthodox Christian faith finds itself under increasing attack in our culture, we too face greater pressure to ‘swim with the tide’ than for many decades. Let’s acknowledge that not to do so is hard – we are social beings who like to fit in, to ‘find our place’. For some, choosing not to is agonising, and it’s right to recognise the courage required. We can also note the significance of the three friends choosing to stay faithful to the Lord together – it’s one reason why we need each other more than ever. Faith was never designed to be a solitary occupation.
This is a story for our times, and let’s take heart from its message over these three days. Today, may we be inspired by the simple reminder that in the end we are God’s, and our calling is to live for the Audience of One. May God grant us grace to do that in all of our lives, and to support each other in prayer and friendship as we journey on ‘the road less travelled’ together.
Tuesday 2nd July – Daniel 2:44-49 ‘The God of gods’
Humans are spiritual beings. We are all made to worship – and since the dawn of civilisation, every generation of human beings in every culture across the globe has done so. Even now, those who apparently reject God, faith, or organised religion simply direct their worship towards something else. The question is not if we worship but who (or what) we worship.
It is now customary in the West to characterise faith as a minority pursuit, but in fact this is a myth – we’ve simply directed much of our faith and adoration elsewhere. We all live by faith, to some extent – what matters is where we direct our faith. When life gets hard, where do you go? What pulls you through? Who or what can you rely on? Who holds the ultimate authority? Who desires the best for us, and enables us to flourish as human beings?
This is when the direction of our worship really matters. Nebuchadnezzar may have been the world’s most powerful human being, but when he encountered something beyond his power, the source of his faith (essentially himself and his power) was left brutally exposed. Suddenly he was looking for answers, he was open to the idea that he needed something – or someone – more than he had in his life at present.
And in the God of Daniel – the Lord Almighty of heaven and earth – he found such a One. When Daniel miraculously revealed both the dream and the interpretation (and was careful to make clear who provided the inspiration – v28) Nebuchadnezzar was confronted with a greater reality, and was moved to a new kind of worship: ‘Surely your God is the God of gods and the Lord of kings and a revealer of mysteries.’ (v47)
It took many years for this spiritual awakening to produce genuine and deep change, as chapters 3 and 4 make clear, but Nebuchadnezzar’s journey towards the God of gods begins here. The Lord had captured his attention, if not yet his heart.
We too are called to be Daniels today – perhaps not at the level (or with the danger) Daniel faced, but simply to point a confused culture towards the one true source of worship, the One who alone can satisfy our deepest needs and longings. Our great God is more than able to do the rest, and to Him alone is all the glory.
Monday 1st July – Daniel 2:29-45 ‘The rock cut without hands’
Human empires come and go. For a while they might seem invincible – but eventually they always decline, and their place is taken by another. There is only one kingdom that lasts forever – the kingdom of God. A kingdom not reliant on a territory or an army, but on the presence and power of the Almighty. This kingdom may often appear weak and insignificant, but in the end it is the one which prevails, and eventually, ‘the kingdom of the world [will] become the kingdom of our God and of His Christ.’
Nebuchadnezzar’s dream tells the story of the kingdom, in visual form. A great statue is pictured, made of different parts, and Daniel reveals that these parts represent human empires. Whilst there is some uncertainty as to which are described, it is most likely the Babylonian, Medean, Persian and Greek empires, in that order. Alexander the Great is probably the ‘iron’ kingdom which smashes the others to pieces (v40), but which then divides into a number of competing dynasties (vv41-43). At that point, something dramatic happens: a ‘rock cut without hands’ smashes the statue (v34), fills the whole earth (v35) and lasts forever (v44).
The Greek Empire remained the dominant force in the world until it was conquered by the Romans, a process which took over a century, but which culminated in the Battle of Actium in 31BC – just three decades before Jesus was born and a new world order came into being.
Jesus is the rock cut without hands, the decisive intervention of God in our world (v44) whose kingdom prevails over all the others and now fills the earth. When he was born, he was laid on a stone feeding trough (sorry to disappoint your images of a wooden manger!); he won the salvation of the world on the rocky outcrop of Mount Moriah; and, ultimately, a large stone was rolled away to declare the victory of God on Easter Day.
Daniel didn’t know any of that, of course. But we do – and now we can read this amazing passage with wonder and joy in our hearts. The dream was true – as was the interpretation. Thank God for the ‘rock cut without hands’, who defeated our enemies, won our life and salvation, and now welcomes all into the family of the one, true everlasting kingdom. Amen!
Saturday 29th June – Daniel 2:24-28 ‘But I know someone who can…’
‘I know a man who can.’ You may remember the famous advert for the AA – and with apologies for the non-inclusive language, it was very much of its time! A child has buried the car at the beach, a truck carrying a giraffe is stuck at a low bridge… can you fix it? ‘No, but I know a man who can.’ (He’s a nice man, a very nice man, I like him, he’s a very nice man – but I’m getting carried away!)
When we face an insoluble problem, what we really need is ‘someone who can’. Whether it’s cars, boilers, computers – or spiritual troubles – we need to know where to look for the answer.
King Nebuchadnezzar has his own breakdown to repair – a disturbing dream – and he has put the lives of his advisors at stake to find out. And now that Daniel has the answer, he is shown in to the throne room to face the king directly (verses 24-25). Not surprisingly for a king, Nebuchadnezzar gets right to it, no chit-chat: ‘Are you able to tell me?’ (v26).
‘No.’
‘…but I know someone who can.’
It’s hard to overstate the courage required to start with the word ‘no’, especially when your life depends on it. But Daniel is here to do more than just fix the king’s problem: he wants to point Nebuchadnezzar to someone greater, the ultimate problem-fixer – Almighty God. In doing so, he takes no credit for himself, but instead gives all the glory to God – something which is repeated by the king himself at the end of the conversation, as we’ll see in a couple of days’ time.
We may not face the sort of life-threatening challenge Daniel does – but there is here a wonderful model for attractive witness to our family, friends, neighbours and colleagues. We may not have all the answers – but we know Someone who does. We may not be able to solve their crises – but we know Someone who can. We may not be able to fill the gap in their lives – but we know Someone who can. We may not be the answer to their prayers – but we know Someone who is.
When Jesus comes, he doesn’t say ‘this is the way’ – he says ‘I am the way.’ The path to life is found not in knowledge or expertise, but in a relationship. When anyone faces challenges, the best thing we can do is to point beyond ourselves, to the One who is greater. Because we know Someone Who Can.
Friday 28th June – Daniel 2:14-23 ‘When we need it’
‘Give us today our daily bread.’ A well-known line – indeed the central line – of the world’s most famous prayer, and one many of us pray every day. And of course it does have a literal meaning, especially for many around the world, for whom daily physical sustenance is not a given.
But there is a broader meaning, too. Bread in this case means ‘everything we need for the day.’ And there are days when this request takes on extra importance. An unforeseen crisis, an extremely heavy workload, a big event which we’ve dreaded for ages.
Today’s passage takes the promise of daily bread to its extreme! What Daniel and his friends need is a miracle to save their lives. The king will execute them the following day, along with hundreds of their fellow officials, unless they receive divine revelation concerning both the content and the meaning of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream.
And so they ‘plead for mercy from the God of heaven’ (v18). And God is wonderfully gracious: a vision is given and Daniel receives the answer he needs, saving not just his life but the lives of many others.
In the midst of this extraordinary act of God, let’s not miss: (a) the practical steps Daniel took to ‘create the space’ which allowed God to work – verses 14-16. This required both tact and courage: God’s supernatural work complemented Daniel’s natural activity; (b) the power of community. Daniel shared with his friends and they sought this miraculous ‘daily bread’ together; and (c) the importance of gratitude – how easy it is for us to forget to thank God for the ‘daily bread’ we receive! Perhaps Daniel’s wonderful prayer in verses 20-23 can be ours this day.
What ‘daily bread’ do you need today? And when you have received it, don’t forget to thank our loving God, too. ‘Praise be to the name of God for ever and ever!’
Thursday 27th June – Daniel 2:1-13 ‘The power of dreams’
Nearly all of us dream. It’s part of the brain’s way of processing and ordering our experiences, though it often leads to some strange combinations, and some even stranger recurrent dreams. For some years in my 20s and 30s I dreamt regularly of being attacked by killer cats – yes, really. If recurrent dreams are meant to provide insights into our basic psyche then I would probably be a psychologist’s nightmare. I really don’t want to know what that signifies!
God also speaks through dreams, too. The prophet Joel – the passage we often read at Pentecost, quoted by Peter in his famous sermon – promises that in the age of the Spirit ‘your old men will dream dreams, your young men will see visions.’ (Joel 2:28) Stories abound of how many thousands of people have recently come to faith in countries with no access to bibles or missionaries simply through dreams. Jesus appears to them directly, and they awake with a profound assurance of God’s love. Never under-estimate the power of a God-given dream.
And in our passage today, the world’s most powerful human being, Nebuchadnezzar – military genius, cruel tyrant, unstoppable force – encounters the one foe he fears: a vivid and disturbing dream. In a culture which assumed that ‘the gods’ only communicated through mysterious things, this was a big deal, and potentially signified either triumph or disaster – no wonder he was terrified and unable to sleep (v1).
And in typical fashion he tries to bully his way to wisdom, saying in effect to his Magi (name sound familiar?): ‘Tell me what it means or I’ll kill you.’ Not sure that kind of pep talk ever really works… about as effective as a sign I keep in my room, which always makes me chuckle: ‘Floggings will continue until morale improves.’
But what is clear is that this dream is a pathway to divine revelation (v11) – and even today we too need to be open to the possibility that God might use a dream to speak to us. Most of the time he doesn’t need to, we have bibles and pastors and lots of other ways to meet with God – so we need to beware overdoing this line of thought, or being ‘hyperalert’.
But let’s rejoice with those who have come to Christ through them, and let’s pray that God continues to use dreams in cultures which oppose the gospel in other ways, to draw many more to the glorious awareness of his love and grace. If God can speak to Nebuchadnezzar in this way, he can speak to anyone.
Wednesday 26th June – Daniel 1:17-21 ‘Real wisdom’
‘Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge? Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?’ These words of T.S. Eliot written almost a century ago are probably more true now than ever. Apparently the amount of information created and stored on the web doubles every two years: vast amounts of data about anything and everything. Information has become the idol of the 21st century, ironically obscuring our path towards knowledge, and pushing us even further from real wisdom, which seems more precious – and also more scarce – than ever.
But what is wisdom? Wisdom is what makes life really work. Someone once defined it in biblical terms as ‘godliness in everyday clothing.’ It’s about spiritual, emotional and relational health, the capacity to make wise choices, and to live with good, just and life-affirming purpose. It cuts through the noise of information and sharpens the tools of knowledge. In short, it’s how we were designed to live, and to flourish as human beings.
Today’s passage tells us that Daniel and his friends abounded in this kind of wisdom – ‘in every matter,’ and ten times better than the king’s other advisers, who are described as ‘magicians and enchanters’ (v20).
This last description is instructive because it makes the root of wisdom clear. If wisdom is rooted in the character of God, then it’s vital to know who this God is. Much religious practice of that day – including here in Babylon – assumed that the gods (probably plural) were essentially unknowable in any meaningful sense: they were capricious and unpredictable, and could only be sought through a series of bizarre rituals for, essentially, ‘yes or no’ answers.
The one, true God, on the other hand, worshipped by Daniel and his friends, is nothing like that. Our God can be known: this is a God who, from the beginning, speaks. This God communicated his will for human beings in detail through the giving of the law and the instructions of the prophets – all of which was available to Daniel. And this God is not capricious or unpredictable, but constant in character – full of mercy, loving-kindness and near to all who call on him. This God doesn’t need to be bribed or cajoled, but can be approached, loved and worshipped.
It’s no surprise, then, that Daniel and his friends gain a reputation for great wisdom. You just have to look in the right place! For us, too, despite the increasing pressure for us to abandon the wisdom of biblical truth, we can take great comfort and inspiration from knowing that we have the same access to real, divine wisdom – even greater, perhaps, than Daniel, because God’s Holy Spirit now writes this wisdom on our hearts.
Our God still speaks, and still desires our flourishing. Let’s recapture that joyful confidence in God’s wisdom to make life work, and may God grant us grace to find all the wisdom we need for our lives today.
Tuesday 25th June – Daniel 1:6-16 ‘Drawing the line’
Soon after I started office work in 1996, I was asked to work on a project for a large client in the gambling industry. Our team had lots of clients, and gambling research was only a small part of our turnover. I approached my director (quickly but quietly) and indicated that I had an issue of conscience with gambling, but would be very happy to work in every other client sector.
My boss reluctantly accepted my decision, though I did get hauled into the Managing Director’s office a couple of days later and was given a telling off for my trouble. But I worked there very happily (in the same team) for 12 years, with lots of clients in lots of sectors, and the issue never came up again.
On matters of faith and conscience, where do you draw the line? That is the million-dollar question, and one which many of us have to face in our work, as well as in other parts of our lives. It’s a multi-layered challenge: first, we have to know what we think about various things to start with – not always easy! Second, we have to face possible conflict with family, friends and colleagues. Third, we may also be worried that it puts our job or reputation at risk.
Daniel and his friends faced these exact same questions 2,500 years ago. They had been resettled in Babylon and forced to adapt to a totally different culture. They had a deep faith, and resolved to stay faithful to the one, true God. However, they also had to live and thrive in this culture – where should they draw the lines?
It’s fascinating to see that Daniel and his friends were happy to absorb Babylonian language, media culture and even names (v4, v6). But their ‘red line’ was food (v8). This may seem odd to our ears, but food laws were – and are – an incredibly important part of Jewish faith, and eating the wrong thing would have made Daniel unclean before God in a way that the other things didn’t. So they chose to make a stand on this issue.
But what I love, and find inspiring, is the wise and gracious way they took this stand. The talked to the right person privately rather than stand on a soapbox. They were polite. And they asked for a trial period to prove that they could do the job just as well regardless.
And God honoured their faithfulness. Their health flourished, and the official could therefore afford to turn a blind eye. It strikes me that this is a model for us, too. Our ethical challenges may be different. But we can still be wise and gracious – and above all, we look to our great God, who honours our gentle, loving obedience. Where do you need wisdom today? And how can God help you to act upon it?
Monday 24th June 2024 – Daniel 1:1-7 ‘A strange world’
According to the United Nations High Commission for Refugees, by the end of 2023 approximately 117 million people across the world have been forcibly displaced. Some flee drought, flood and famine; more flee conflict and persecution. All of them are precious human beings, and their stories have touched many of us personally. Whilst the majority were not forcibly taken – as the Jewish people were in Daniel chapter 1 – it remains, in many ways, a decision forced upon them. Their lives are in danger: and, however thankful many must be to be living somewhere safe, that is weighed against the trauma of leaving their homeland, their culture, and most of their extended family and friends behind, perhaps never to see them again.
As their lives unfold, these refugees have to learn to live in an unfamiliar culture, and, as such, will face the critical decisions that all those in exile must face: what parts of their identity must be kept, and what must be adapted or even discarded. This is the dilemma of exile.
The theme of exile is a crucial one in the bible. It defines much of the story of God’s people, from Abraham onwards: in Egypt and in Babylon in the Old Testament; and then, in the New, a story of spiritual survival surrounded by a hostile host culture – first Jewish, then Roman.
It is, increasingly, our story, too. For several generations our own culture in the UK has been moving away from the unquestioning acceptance of Christian truth as the bedrock of our culture, a process which is accelerating at present. Many of us now feel ourselves to be strangers in a strange land: a minority swimming against the tide – albeit one which remains as spiritually hungry as ever, and is now able to hear the story of our faith with fresh ears. So it’s not all doom and gloom: our good news is a genuine surprise to large parts of our nation, which brings enormous opportunities alongside considerable challenges.
But it is this cultural backdrop which makes the Old Testament Book of Daniel such an encouragement and an inspiration. The world Daniel inhabits as a person of faith looks rather more like ours than it did 100 years ago. There is so much gold for us to mine from its pages, and I hope over the next few weeks we will do just that. It is a story of courage, of integrity, of surprising flourishing – as well as containing some of the best loved stories of the bible: the dreams, the fiery furnace, the writing on the wall and the lions’ den.
Above all, Daniel is a book about identity. Not so much ‘who are we,’ but whose are we? And if we are God’s (and God’s above all), how do we live out our faith in our culture? What do we hold onto as non-negotiable, and where can we adapt? How do we seek the prosperity of our city, our nation, and also worship and serve a Higher Power first and foremost?
As we delve deep into Daniel in this season, may God continue to make us strong in our identity: as his children, followers of Jesus above all, the One who ‘is the same yesterday, today and forever.’ And may we be equipped to live out our faith with fresh courage, integrity and inspiration.
The Book of Esther: ‘The Hidden Hand of God’
The Book of Esther is a fantastic story. Unusually for a bible text, God’s name is never used directly, and yet God’s hand is across all the pages, pulling the strings when his people need him most. Roughly a contemporary of Daniel, Esther has much wisdom to tell us about how to thrive in a different or even hostile culture. It’s also a rattling good yarn – deserving of the film titles which introduce each day! – which we’ll enjoy for the next two weeks or so…
Note: all Inspirations are now uploaded for the week – scroll down for Friday’s, and earlier posts…
Saturday 22nd June – Esther 9:29-10:3 ‘Last Orders’
And so, our tale comes to an end. After the storms of the preceding chapters, the story concludes with relative calm, as Queen Esther communicates the decree regarding the new festival of Purim throughout the empire and Mordecai takes on a Daniel/Joseph type role as the king’s senior adviser.
It is notable that the book begins with Xerxes running the show directly, and ends with Esther and Mordecai taking more of the reins on his behalf – Xerxes was still ruler, of course, but now he had people he could trust around him (at least for a season), and it’s a tangible sign of the favour that God has shown, both to his people and to these two remarkable individuals, that we end up here.
In this last segment we get lovely summaries of each of the main characters. Xerxes – whose name means “ruling over heroes” – ‘imposed tribute’ (v1). He is still a tyrant, albeit perhaps a more benevolent one than he was a few months previously. Mordecai ‘worked for the good of his people’ (v3) – a fitting assessment of this quiet giant. And Esther ‘wrote with full authority’ (v29). During the course of the story she has visibly grown in stature, displaying great qualities of wisdom and courage, and she now acts like a true queen – with confidence and authority.
I hope over the last couple of weeks that this amazing episode has inspired you in various ways. Throughout we’ve seen the hidden hand of God, at work in the world and through his people. But this is not (yet) a ‘happy ever after’ tale. Life remained, and remains, challenging for God’s people. God’s people remained a vulnerable minority then, and many find themselves in similar situations now. To live as followers of Jesus calls us to swim against the tide, which means our relationship with culture and power will have pressure points. We are not called to seek trouble for its own sake – but sometimes it finds us anyway.
However, the phrase which describes the decree Queen Esther sends across the empire provides a fitting conclusion to this series: ‘words of goodwill and assurance’ (v30). This is the purpose of the book of Esther: to remind us of God’s favour towards us, his people, and to give us confidence and hope as a result.
Hundreds of years later, angels across the night sky over Bethlehem declared the same blessing as a baby was born: ‘peace and goodwill to all’. Advent is a long way away at this time of year! Nevertheless, may we be filled again with hope and joy at these words of goodwill and assurance. Amen.
Friday 21st June – Esther 9:19-28 ‘The Holiday’
In our annual calendar, November is usually the season of remembrance. Beginning with All Saints’ Day, moving through Bonfire Night and Remembrance Sunday and (if you’re American) finishing with Thanksgiving on the last Thursday in November, we dedicate a period of the year specially to remembering significant events.
And, for all that these occasions remember vastly different things, there are common threads for each. There is thankfulness: for our worldwide church (or particular loved ones), for deliverance from a wicked plot, for the ending of war, for the birth of a national identity.
There is also a message to take to heart, which serves to strengthen our resolve to live as better people and better communities.
These occasions also call to mind our vulnerabilities. We think of the Suffering Church, of what might have happened if our government had been destroyed, of the millions whose lives were changed (or ended) by war, and perhaps who live with its ongoing consequences.
All these themes resonate with our passage today. To celebrate their great deliverance a new festival is decreed for the Jewish people: Purim. It’s still celebrated today – the date for 2024 was a 24-hour period from the evening of Saturday 23rd March until the evening of Sunday 24th March. It is primarily a day (originally two days) of ‘feasting and joy,’ as the text declares (v22).
And yet there is also an underlying message of watchfulness: this has happened before, it can happen again. It is traditional to read the story of Esther (known to Jews as ‘The Megillah’) as part of the Purim celebrations, and tragically, the events of the mid-20th century have been a heartbreaking reminder that this kind of threat is not just ancient history.
It is also notable that, amidst the celebrations, gifts should be given to the poor (v22). To know our own vulnerability inevitably makes us more aware of others’.
Remembering is an important business. I have said in other places that our memory is our identity. It shapes our thinking, not just of the past, but of our present and future. Take a moment today to remember something that makes you thankful, and opens your heart ever more to others.
Thursday 20th June – Esther 9:1-19 ‘Independence Day’
This passage might have made challenging reading for you. To our modern ears the exultant response to the wave of violence strikes a discordant note, and perhaps dilutes the sense of relief we feel at the way God’s people were saved.
As always, we have to judge events by the standards of the time, in which this kind of outcome was not especially unusual. But it’s also worth reminding ourselves of what was shared yesterday. The edict of the King was effectively designed to stop anyone attacking the Jewish people. And yet still many had gathered who were ‘determined to destroy them’ (v2). This left these scattered Jewish communities with little option but to fight back, as permitted by Xerxes: which they did very successfully. Such action would not have been required if the implication of the king’s edict had been received by all people as it should have been.
That’s not to justify violence for its own sake; but this was a vulnerable minority used to being despised and ill-treated – and who had lived for nearly a year with the threat of destruction hanging over them. Their very existence was at stake.
For all that, we may have preferred an ending which involved deliverance without bloodshed, and it reminds us why the good news of the gospel has such transformative power. Jesus modelled a different way, which has impacted our culture more profoundly than we often realise. Today, followers of Jesus are encouraged to leave vengeance to God, the true Judge of all (Romans 12:19).
This is never easy, as it requires us to curb our natural instincts. But for all who suffer unjustly, may God grant us grace to hold them in prayer, and trust him to take care of the rest. And if that unjust suffering is yours, may God be especially close to you today, and bind your wounds.
Wednesday 19th June – Esther 8:1-17 ‘The Great Escape’
Intentions are one thing, actual plans and outcomes another. Over the last few days we’ve seen how God – with the aid of Mordecai, Esther and some outrageous ‘coincidences’ – has brought about the promise of rescue for his people. This is absolutely incredible! The king’s mind has changed and he is now ready to intervene on Esther’s behalf – but the key question now is: how will it actually come about?
As it stands, even with Haman gone, there’s still a law in effect which decrees the destruction of the Jews in a few months’ time; and, as Xerxes himself says in today’s passage, ‘no document written in the kings name and sealed with his ring can be revoked.’ (v8) The danger remains very real. Promises and good intentions need to become reality.
Again, we have to pay tribute to Queen Esther’s wisdom. Knowing that the existing law is still in effect, she asks her husband if he will write a new law to counteract the current one. And the irrevocable nature of Persian laws (regardless of their merit) explains why the law is written as it is. At first sight, giving the Jewish people freedom to arm and defend themselves sounds like asking for trouble; but it is the best response to a legally binding decree which invites violence against them. Anyone sensible reading this new edict would realise that the king is effectively banning the genocide, so would be daft to try and attack the Jewish people against the will of the king. But just in case anyone does….
It’s a clever solution to a potentially disastrous problem, and the king further cranks up the formidable machinery of his government to make sure the details of this law are spread as widely as possible. His empire covers a vast area of territory, so it’s just as well he can utilise his secretaries, satraps and couriers to get the word out.
It’s a helpful reminder that even miraculous deliverances often need practical human activity on the ground. The miraculous deliverance at Dunkirk we mentioned a few days ago still needed hundreds of sailors crewing their boats across the channel. Administration is listed as a spiritual gift in the New Testament for good reason. Practical wisdom and skill doesn’t replace God’s guiding hand, but complements it.
How might this encourage you today? Wherever God is at work, may he equip you with the practical skills and energy you need to work alongside his divine initiative.
Tuesday 18th June – Esther 7:1-10 ‘The Reckoning’
Every great story has a climactic scene where the drama is played out, and the central characters all find themselves in the room together. Although the most important outcome of the drama happens in the next two chapters, in chapter 7 we get the long-awaited dramatic climax, delivered to perfection by the master story-teller of Esther.
All the pieces are now in place: in chapter 4, Mordecai gave Esther her mission, which she chose to accept. In chapter 5, Esther won the king’s favour and Haman allowed the pride and malice of his heart to rule his head. In chapter 6, the king honours Mordecai and unwittingly humiliates Haman.
Now – and only now – comes the decisive second banquet thrown by Queen Esther, and here we can finally appreciate the wisdom of playing the long game. By not pestering the king, there has been time for the tables to turn in Esther’s favour, and the king – who likes to be flattered and given the appearance of control in every situation – is fully won over, and willing to grant her anything.
But even at this point, Esther is wise: she phrases her request in both humble and personal terms: the king has not just agreed to kill a whole people – the king has agreed to kill her, his queen; her people would accept slavery because of their love for the king – but genocide is a step too far!
It is the perfect response, and Xerxes now realises that he has been manipulated into a foolish decision by his senior advisor. How could he possibly execute this people, one of whom is his queen and another of whom has proved his loyalty by exposing a plot and saving his life?
Haman knows the game is up: but, in a final, darkly comic episode, he slips while throwing himself on Esther’s mercy and appears to be making an inappropriate advance to the queen, just as her husband walks in. With heavy irony he is now impaled on the pole he set up for Mordecai.
I said yesterday that God is nowhere directly named in this story. But there is a beautiful twist. The letters which spell God’s name appear five times in the Hebrew text: once in chapter 1, but then crucially twice in chapter 5 and twice more here in chapter 7: in verses 5 and 7, when judgement is declared against Haman.
Like the acrostic poems of the psalms, these letters begin sequential words and to a Hebrew speaker would be noticeable. It is, if you like, a simple code for God’s people to notice as this story is told, and to inspire them to give thanks that God has been helping and protecting them all along. Bearing in mind that most of Esther’s readers would have been living far away from Israel in secular cultures, what better way to give them quiet and enduring hope?
May we, too, as we read, hear God’s simple code to us, written between the lines of every page: I love you, I am there for you, I will be with you. And may that give us, too, quiet and enduring hope.
Monday 17th June – Esther 6:1-14 ‘The Sting’
‘When I pray, coincidences happen more often.’ These well-known words of Archbishop William Temple form a fitting introduction to today’s reading. God isn’t mentioned anywhere in this chapter, but we do see a remarkable sequence of coincidences:
Coincidence 1: the king happens not to be able to sleep.
Coincidence 2: of all the remedies he might have chosen, he decides that the best cure for insomnia is to have the history of his reign read out to him.
Coincidence 3: we don’t know how long this reading of records lasted, but either way, it went on long enough to include the episode where Mordecai saves his life.
Coincidence 4: Xerxes decides that now is the time to ask whether this chap had been rewarded for his service.
Coincidence 5: Haman just happens to be arriving at court as this conversation is ending.
Coincidence 6: Xerxes fails to mention Mordecai by name when speaking with Haman (though we might admit that Xerxes is more aware of Haman’s hatred of Mordecai then he lets on).
Coincidence 7: Haman, still in hubristic mode, thinks the king’s question is about him, so awards himself (he supposes) the highest accolades and rewards.
…and as a result of all these ‘coincidences’ Haman now finds himself, not executing Mordecai, but publicly honouring him! Can you imagine the scene as Haman of all people is forced to parade Mordecai around the streets, praising his deeds, and secretly grinding his teeth all the while?!
Today of all days is where we see the hidden hand of God, which gave us the title for this series. But God has been at work throughout: in providing a dedicated father figure for Esther, in Esther’s success in becoming queen, in Mordecai foiling a plot but not being rewarded at the time – had he been, the events in this chapter could not have happened as they did. In all this, God appeared to be silent but was in fact pulling all the strings.
It is hard at any point in time to be sure of how the Lord is at work: for much of life we see ‘through a glass darkly’. However, this marvellous story reminds us that God is there, he is at work, and sometimes we get to look through the window into the throne room of heaven and perceive it.
The story is not yet done, but everything is now in place, and we can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Wherever you find yourself in this season, what ‘coincidences’ will you pray for today?
Saturday 15th June – Esther 5:9-14 ‘Dumb and dumber’
In his book Why Organisations Fail, Jim Collins – the leading management and leadership thinker – outlines five stages of decline. Fascinatingly, the first two stages happen when organisations appear to be at the peak of their powers: stage 1 is ‘hubris born of success’ and stage 2 is ‘undisciplined pursuit of more.’ What makes this sequence so devastating is that the rug is slowly being pulled from under its feet even while the organisation is lauding its own achievements. Usually, by the time people start to realise they’re in trouble (stage 3 – denial of risk or peril), it’s too late. They didn’t spot the warning signs, and disaster lies ahead.
What’s true of organisations can be equally true of people. Haman finds himself exactly in the sort of quietly perilous position that Collins describes in his book – though to read today’s passage you would never know. Haman exhibits exactly that brand of hubris that is the undoing of many powerful and successful people. He assumes that his position is unassailable, and fails to heed the warning signs that a more astute observer might have spotted. He knows full well that Mordecai is a Jew – so how has he missed the obvious inference as to the likely sympathies of Mordecai’s ward, the Queen, the very person now throwing banquets for the king and himself?
Instead, he spends his time boasting about his power (dumb?) and, notwithstanding the king’s existing statute to oppress the Jewish people, decides that Mordecai deserves humiliation on top of execution, demanding the construction of a 75-foot pole on which to hang his body (dumber?!).
Haman will come to have a particular reason to regret wasting his energies on building this pole – but it is a sobering reminder that human pride, power and ambition are shifting sands on which to build a life. The methods people use to force their way to the top usually come back to bite them, often with greater force.
Our Saviour models another way. The way of humility and service, of compassion and generosity. This Saviour’s arrival lay hundreds of years ahead of this particular story, but we can see echoes of this kind of lifestyle in the behaviour of Mordecai and Esther. They chose to be salt and light, to be the good yeast that worked its way through the dough. Many of Jesus’ parables of the kingdom seem to connect with ‘the mustard seed conspiracy’ of these two, which saved a nation.
Tempting as it is to misuse power, may God grant us grace to choose the kingdom lifestyle taught and lived by Jesus, trusting in God’s power and authority to bless it – and us.
Friday 14th June – Esther 5:1-10 ‘True grit’
‘Pray as if everything depended on God. Act as if everything depended on you.’ I was told that many years ago, and it’s wise advice. There may be times when it’s the action of others we have to rely on, but often we have to play our part as an outworking of what we have prayed for.
For three days, the Jewish people have fasted and prayed. Now it’s time to act. And it’s notable that Esther wastes no time. As soon as the period of fasting is completed, she takes her courage in both hands, puts on her best dress and goes to see the king.
And we should bear in mind that this is the riskiest moment for Esther. It’s now that the king will either order her execution or extend his favour towards her. Thankfully, absence in this case has made the king’s heart grow fonder, and Esther is warmly received, with the further promise that the king will grant her whatever she asks.
But even now, Esther plays a canny game. Rather than blurt out her request – too much too soon, with the additional drawback that Haman is not in the room to see the king’s response – she invites Xerxes and Haman to a banquet that evening, thereby keeping the king on tenterhooks and making sure that Haman is fully involved in everything that happens next. The banquet is a success, but even then Esther keeps her cards close to her chest and piques the king’s interest yet more by inviting him to another banquet the following evening, to which Haman is also invited.
Esther is not just being coy or cowardly: little by little she is reeling the king in. After two meetings in quick succession Xerxes must be wondering what on earth could be so important, whilst also being reminded of how much he likes his new queen. As it happens, Mordecai also plays his part by showing his own courage in the face of Haman’s malice (v9). This prompts Haman to say and do some unwise things which ultimately work against him, as we’ll see tomorrow.
Today’s passage finishes with apparently everything left unresolved: but in many respects the biggest battle has been won. Esther has an audience with the king, and God’s people have hope. Hundreds of years later, Jesus counselled us to be ‘wise as snakes and innocent as doves.’ We should beware becoming ‘political animals’ – but there are times when shrewd behaviour reaps its reward.
May God grant us grace to act wisely in all that we face today, and in this season.
Thursday 13th June – Esther 4:1-17 (ii) ‘The Fast Show’
This chapter of Esther is usually the only one that anyone has read! So for that reason at least, it deserves a second look. And, alongside the conversation between Esther and Mordecai, what is most striking in this chapter is how the situation caused a nation to fast and pray.
Yes, their lives were at stake – but even so, the outpouring of religious fervour and commitment is notable. People sought their Lord, and not only with prayer but with fasting, too. We see it in verse 3, and then again at the end of the chapter (v16).
The most recent equivalent in the history of our nation came in 1940, as 300,000 British and Allied troops were encircled in a small corner of North-Eastern France near Dunkirk and facing annihilation. On 23rd May, King George VI called for a national day of prayer and fasting for the following Sunday. Ten days later, the result was a miraculous rescue of 270,000 of these soldiers from the beach at Dunkirk. The weather conditions were unusually favourable and the German response unusually muted.
Watching the most recent, brilliant film about this event, this part of the narrative was completely overlooked. Perhaps that’s no surprise – but it should never be forgotten. A nation fasted – and hundreds of thousands of lives were saved. Just as it is here in the book of Esther.
Fasting is an ancient spiritual discipline which has declined in recent generations. It is fascinating that ‘fast days’ are now much more likely to be talked about in diet regimens than in church! And I would admit that my own commitment to fasting has been patchy for a long time, so I don’t speak with any great authority today.
But this passage does challenge me to look again. We may not be facing genocide, as the Jewish people of Esther’s day did – but there are huge challenges facing our church, nation and world at present. Fasting is not a slot machine, and it’s always a challenge; but it does unlock something in the spiritual realm, in our access to God. Maybe it’s time to take another look?
Wednesday 12th June – Esther 4:1-17 (i) ‘Sliding doors’
I wonder what it must be like to know that one moment will determine the entire course of your life? In the classic film of 20 years ago which is our title for today, we saw two versions of what happened to Gwyneth Paltrow’s life, depending on one trivial incident: the doors of a tube train were shutting, and she either squeezed into the carriage or just missed it. The repercussions of this one event then played out – in alternative versions – for the rest of the film.
Today’s passage is a bit like this – only the big difference is that the event is not random or trivial, but huge and obvious. Esther’s people are threatened with genocide, and she is the only one of her people with favour and access to the king, the one person whose intervention might prove critical – this is the moment that will determine the course of her life, one way or another.
But to do so is hugely risky. We’ve already seen how touchy King Xerxes is, and how keen on observing both royal prestige and protocol. Even his wives were not allowed just to turn up and see him, and, if Esther times it wrong or meets his displeasure, she faces a worse fate than her predecessor Queen Vashti, who was ‘merely’ banished – Esther would be executed. (v11)
And yet… and yet: ‘who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this?’ (v14) In one famous sentence Mordecai gets to the heart of the issue. Esther may have wondered why she, of all people, was favoured by the king; perhaps this is the answer, perhaps this is her calling, her moment?
And it’s important to notice that Mordecai attests that, for all that she is in the right place at the right time, Esther is not the messiah, to coin a phrase: God is not limited to only being able to fix this via Esther – if she refuses, Mordecai recognises (in one of the great statements of faith) that God could do it another way, because God is the one true God. Esther is called to be obedient, and let God do the rest.
For such a time as this…. very few of us will experience the sort of nation-changing, life-defining moment Esther did. But this sense of calling applies to us, too. Calling is not just for ministers and missionaries: God calls all of us to lots of things, big and small. What is God’s call for you, at such a time as this? It might be a person to contact, or a commitment to make, a task to fulfil, or a relationship to renew. It might be something bigger! But whatever it is, will you step out, like Esther did, trusting in the One who calls?
Tuesday 11th June – Esther 3:1-15 ‘The Purge’
How quickly the tide turns. Only yesterday, Mordecai is saving the king’s life: today, not only his life is in danger but that of his people. How did we get here?
Things start to go wrong when Haman is promoted to the highest office in the land, below only the king. Haman is an Agagite (v1), which means there’s a bitter history here. Agag was the king which the prophet Samuel told King Saul to defeat – but Saul wouldn’t kill him, so Samuel finished the job. Ever since, the Agagites had hated the Jews, so Haman’s promotion always threatened to mean trouble for the Jewish exiles living in the Medo-Persian empire, and especially in its capital, Susa.
The flashpoint is not quite what it seems. The text says that Mordecai refused to pay Haman honour (v2), so it looks like a gratuitous snub. But what is really being required of Mordecai here is a form of worship, where Haman is effectively the substitute for King Xerxes himself. What Mordecai is doing (or refusing to do) is the same as Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego in the famous story in Daniel chapter 3. His worship is reserved for God alone – he will not bow down to another human being.
It is hard to know whether Haman was genuinely personally outraged by Mordecai’s decision, or just used it as a convenient excuse to exact a plan of vengeance which had lain dormant in the hearts of his people for centuries. Either way, he set about making the most of his privileged position to sanction a genocide.
As we saw in chapter 1, Xerxes was particularly sensitive to anything that smacked of disrespect (like most tyrants), and Haman cleverly plays this to his advantage. Thus, he tells the king: the Jewish people ‘keep themselves separate, and they do not obey the king’s laws.’ (v8) So, with the promise of a huge bribe, he suggests that the king should destroy them.
The king isn’t interested in the money (v11), but he doesn’t like the sound of disobedience, so he concurs, and issues the decree – giving a full 11 months for the letters to be circulated, and plans for the genocide to be prepared. Time enough, also, for God – via Mordecai and Esther – to save the day! But that’s for tomorrow, and the next few days.
(An interesting footnote is that the genocide was planned for the 13th day of the month (v13), which is where the original idea of ‘unlucky thirteen’ comes from. It is also notable to see how both power and hatred reduces our capacity for compassion – see how Xerxes and Haman enjoy a drink (v15) while the city is in a fever of anxiety.)
What we see in today’s passage is the destructive power of resentment and bitterness in the human heart. Haman had nursed a hatred for the Jewish people in all probability for many years, even generations. This hatred was ultimately to be his undoing. Whilst we might think that this could never happen now, sadly history suggests otherwise. Let us continue to examine our own hearts, and also pray for the hearts of those with power in our world today.
Monday 10th June – Esther 2:19-23 ‘Sense and sensibility’
Our culture has an ambiguous relationship to truth-telling when it involves getting other people into trouble. Generally it depends on how much power the culprit has. If they are powerful, then the person telling the truth is lauded as a whistle-blower. If they are peers, then the person telling the truth is a snitch.
Should power really determine the judgement we give? Arguably the risk of ‘snitching’ is greater than whistle-blowing, where (at least in the West) the person usually has immediate protection under the law. And Mordecai no doubt took a certain level of risk in revealing today’s plot, since people prepared to kill a king are almost certainly able to kill a private citizen.
The story at this stage is only recounted briefly: it might seem odd that it is even recounted at all, given the lack of attention the narrator seems to give it here – however its true importance only becomes clear later in the book. Mordecai has saved the king’s life, even if, for now, little is said about it.
Why did I give today’s inspiration the title I did? Well, the original meaning of ‘sensibility’ when Jane Austen wrote this famous title is what we would now describe as ‘sensitivity’ – and this is an apt description of Mordecai, who throughout the book of Esther demonstrates admirable sensitivity, both in emotional and intellectual terms. Unwilling to leave Esther destitute as an orphan, he raises her as his own (2:7). He is acutely worried about Esther’s racial background (2:10, repeated here in this passage v20). And now he spots a plot which perhaps others would have overlooked. Mordecai is someone who we would call ‘tuned in’ on every level.
But unlike the ‘sensible’ (i.e. ‘sensitive’) sister in Austen’s novel, Mordecai shows sense as well. He tells Esther, who in turn tells the king. Esther also sensibly (and humbly) gives Mordecai credit – this fact again becomes incredibly important in a couple of chapters’ time. Our narrator is setting up the story with expert care.
Some of us may have faced the sort of dilemma Mordecai did – whether to blow a whistle or not. Others of us have not: either way, truth-telling tempered with humility, as it is here with Esther and Mordecai, is a wonderful quality. The world needs more of it: and may God grant us grace to be humble truth-tellers in our lives, too.
Saturday 8th June – Esther 2:1-18 ‘The Cinderella Moment’
After Xerxes’ major strop in chapter 1, today our now queen-less king is looking for a new partner. Not that he lacks existing possibilities, as the frequent references to his harem indicate. However, he misses that special someone, and so institutes a nationwide beauty competition, which to our modern eyes reads rather like an ancient combination of Miss World and Love Island.
Not surprisingly, the competition attracts hundreds of hopeful applicants (v8), who have to undergo a gruelling beauty regime (v12) to have any chance of winning the king’s attention. The competition lasts months and months, with only one entrant allowed to visit the king each evening (v14).
One prospective candidate, however, is different to the others. There are definite parallels between Esther and the much better-known story of Cinderella. Both have a more illustrious heritage than their current circumstances suggest: generally the Babylonians only took into exile the brightest and the best of the conquered Jewish nation, so Mordecai probably has a respectable ancestry, which accounts for his being able to sit at the king’s gate regularly, as we’ll see tomorrow.
Both also have to hide their background. Esther is not mistreated, as Cinderella was, but her Jewish faith and culture potentially puts her at risk. She has to enter the king’s harem incognito, as it were, just like the way Cinderella goes to the prince’s ball – though it is notable that the narrator indicates that it was the older Mordecai who forbade Esther to reveal her background, rather than Esther having any such qualms herself.
Finally, both Esther and Cinderella have that natural grace and beauty that enables them to stand out from all the other wannabes. It is interesting that Esther refuses more than the basic beauty regimen before seeing the king (v15) – you get the sense that she wants the king to see her (and love her) as she really is, or not at all. Perhaps it is this integrity and authenticity – allied to her obvious beauty – that the king falls in love with, such that Esther becomes the chosen one, the new Queen. Fittingly, the king throws another banquet, completed successfully without the dramas of chapter 1.
We may not have Esther’s beauty, nor any desire to win a pageant! But there is something here about the value of honesty and authenticity which is worth reflecting on. How easy do we find it to let others see us as we are? Esther finds herself in an ambivalent position: forced to hide her culture (rather than her faith) but open about her character. It strikes a chord with many of us, who understand the struggle to be ‘real’ in our world and our relationships.
God blessed Esther despite all of this. May Esther’s example inspire us to be authentic, and, where we find it hard to share parts of ourselves to others, to ask God for courage to be real about who we are, including our faith.
Friday 7th June – Esther 1:1-22 ‘Pride and prejudice’
So the book begins with a bang! Like an ancient Bond movie, we start stylishly in the palaces of the powerful, where the King (Xerxes) has convened a big summit which lasts almost six months (v4). King Xerxes came to power in approx 486 BC, so, as we begin in the third year of his reign (v3), this dates the book fairly accurately to about 483 BC.
The summit ends with a whole week of feasting, at which Xerxes’ power and wealth is ostentatiously displayed (verses 5-8). At this time, the Medo-Persian empire stretched from India to Egypt, so Xerxes was probably the most powerful ruler in the world.
But there was one person over which Xerxes had less than full control. His wife, Queen Vashti, had her own banquet (v9), and when she was summoned by the king, she refused to come (v12). We don’t know why: there is no sign that she was plotting, perhaps she was just tired of being treated like an object for display. Whatever the reason, her refusal was like a red rag to the bullish king, who, after consulting his advisors, decided that she could no longer be queen.
The real reason why we are told this somewhat unedifying episode is made clear in chapter 2. Vashti’s successor is Esther, the heroine of our story, so were it not for Xerxes’ actions here in chapter 1, there would be no Esther, and who knows what might have happened to God’s people as a result?
But Vashti’s fate reminds us of the destructive power of pride and insecurity. Above all, Xerxes could not bear to lose face: his veneer of absolute control could not be dented. Was there really any great risk to the family structures of the kingdom by Vashti’s assertion of independence? Probably not. Just a lot of paranoid alpha males worried about their reputations (vv17-18)!
There is a useful reminder for us here. Where does our sense of worth and security come from? Certainly, there is great value in affirmation from other humans; in contrast, abusive or neglectful relationships can destroy our self-esteem. But ultimately, our security comes from knowing whose we are: that we are loved and cherished by God, that we are unique and uniquely valuable – held in his arms and given hope, purpose and a future.
All of us will occasionally be ‘disrespected’ by someone. God’s constant love and affirmation allows us to rise above that. It may not heal all of our human relationships, but it does allow us to live with confidence and trust. Perhaps even today there may be some encounter God is calling us to let go of?
As we begin the Book of Esther, let’s take a few moments to remind ourselves Whose we are. The Lord is our shepherd: we shall not want.
The Gospel of John – ch9 onwards
Thursday’s reflection concludes our series in John for time being. Tomorrow we start looking at the Old Testament book of Esther…
Thursday 6th June – John 10:30-42 ‘In that place, many believed’
Sometimes in life, the best thing to do is to retrace your steps. Perhaps because you’ve got lost, or perhaps because you need to go ‘back to your roots’, back to the start. This is often a good thing – whilst it could be seen in some circumstances as an admission of failure or defeat, it can also be the opposite, something proactive and hopeful, a determination to refocus ourselves.
Jesus has had a year or more of persistent opposition – every time he goes to Jerusalem (part of his religious identity, and we should never forget that he was born a faithful Jew, whose identity was formed in that crucible of faith), he is torn into by his enemies. John chapters 5-10 cover roughly a year: it begins with an unnamed Jewish festival (5:1) – most probably Tabernacles or Hanukkah – and proceeds through the spring festival of Passover (6:4), the autumn feast of Tabernacles (7:2,14) and finally the winter celebrations of Hanukkah (10:22) – and the result every time is the same. More debate, more opposition, more repetition of the same arguments. In fact, it gets worse each time, such that his opponents are now trying to seize him (v39).
What does Jesus do? He goes back to the start. He goes back to where his cousin John’s ministry began – across the Jordan, in the Judean desert (v40). This is where the Baptist first preached that the Messiah was here, where he pointed out Jesus as the One, where thousands re-dedicated their lives to God. This is where there was spiritual hunger, and spiritual fruit. Jesus is re-charging his batteries: not so much away from people, but back in a place where he is welcomed, where his word is listened to, and where many believe (v42).
It’s interesting that this is a remote place – not an urban centre, but one which invites commitment. People have to make an effort to get there, it’s somewhere you only go if you really want to, if you’re hungry to grow spiritually. This is why it’s such a good resting place for Jesus. He spends most of his life going to people – it’s in his nature, because the Lord is the One who takes the initiative, he naturally comes looking for us. But here, people come to him, they seek him out. Here, he is restored by spending time with those who are truly seeking him. Perhaps it’s no surprise that after a few months in this remote place, of recuperation and renewal, he takes on his greatest challenge of all – the raising of Lazarus, and the events that follow swiftly upon it.
Perhaps a few of you reading today need to go back to the start, to your roots. A place to rest and to grow. A place of spiritual hunger and renewal. Jesus did it – do you need to? Let’s be clear that this is not running away – and if that is your motivation, it won’t work. But if that still, small voice, the voice of the Good Shepherd, is gently beckoning you back to the start, to rediscover your first love, then take a few moments to reflect what that might look like for you.
And if that’s not the place you find yourself in today – store it away, be alert for the time when that is the word for you. Why not pray for those who are being called to that place of rediscovery and renewal? And, like those who sought Jesus out across the Jordan, may we continue to find in Jesus our first love, our joy and our hope. Amen.
Wednesday 5th June – John 10:19-33 ‘One with the Father’
For children of my generation, the great film saga of our childhood was Star Wars. I was not quite old enough to appreciate ‘A New Hope’ when it came out in 1977, but by the time The Empire Strikes Back came out in 1980, it was my birthday treat to go and watch it with Dad. By 1983 and the release of Return of the Jedi, we were all hooked – and the big reveal of that film was the identity of Luke Skywalker’s father – none other than the ultimate bad guy, Darth Vader.
The difficulty with anyone accepting this could be the case came from the fact that Luke was apparently nothing like his father. Except… what was apparent all the way through the series was that Luke had exceptional power, the sort of power that only Darth Vader possessed – only that Luke channelled it for good, rather than evil.
In today’s passage, the debate over Jesus’ identity continues to rumble on. We left it in v21 in the Autumn of the Jewish year (soon after the Festival of Tabernacles); almost three months later, at the Festival of Dedication (which we know better as Hanukkah), the debate is still going on: (v24) ‘How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly.’
It’s no surprise that the debate reignites as this particular festival: Hanukkah reminded God’s people of their wonderful liberation from Antiochus Epiphanes in the second century BC, and it was naturally a moment when Messianic fervour would be at its height. And Jesus is very clear with his reply: (v25) ‘I did tell you, but you do not believe.’
In fact, as he insists, if they won’t listen to what he is saying, all he can do is demonstrate his identity, to let the divine power manifest in his works speak for him (v25). He’s saying, in effect, ‘if you won’t believe what I say, then look at what I can do, and have done.’ It’s like the million-dollar question at the heart of the Star Wars films; except, of course, that Jesus’ Father remains entirely good and perfect. But the point remains: you can spot the Son because he bears the imprint of his Father.
And this divine imprint brings a wonderful promise: because Jesus really is the Lord, he is certainly able to keep all those who follow him: (v28) ‘I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no-one will snatch them out of my hand.’ It turns out that his questioners’ vision of the Messiah was too small all along: not just a divinely commissioned human liberator, but the Lord himself made flesh. ‘I and the Father are one.’ (v30)
This is dynamite, and the charge of blasphemy is inevitable (v33) – and would of course be justified, if it were not true. But if it is true… then today we can rejoice that our future is secure, because it is entrusted into the one Being in all creation who has the power to keep and to save. No-one – no-one – can snatch you out of your Father’s hand. Hold fast to that today – and may it bring you great peace, and joy.
Tuesday 4th June – John 10:14-21 ‘Listening to Jesus’ voice’
Back in my ‘office’ days, one of the highlights of the year was the Company Sports Day. Before you get notions of some sort of serious competition, this was more It’s a Knockout than Diamond League Athletics. Events included the Space Hopper Relay, welly wanging, egg and spoon race, you get the idea – all washed down with a picnic and free drinks all afternoon. What could possibly go wrong?
The last event each year was the biggest and most chaotic of all. It was a relay race, where all participants had to run to the end of the course, put a blindfold on, spin on a stick ten times and then try to run back to their team. The team would help them find their way back by shouting out – so each participant had to listen carefully for the voice which enabled them to get home. As you can imagine the fun was in the fact that people were so dizzy they usually ran off at an angle of 45 degrees before falling over in comic fashion. One particularly memorable year, my wife ran very fast at an oblique angle straight into the managing director, almost knocking him over. But I digress.
Thankfully I don’t remember anyone actually getting hurt – but in a way I think that race feels a lot like life to most of us. We feel disorientated, bewildered at the complexity of life, which seems to keep spinning us round. Many of us have no idea where we’re going most of the time – and even if we do, if can feel daunting trying to get there, like running blindfold and dizzy in a crowd of other blindfolded dizzy people. And there are so many different voices, all shouting for our attention. ‘Do this, try that, buy the other.’ How do we know which voice we can trust?
As we continue to rejoice in Jesus’ profound teaching about his identity as the Good Shepherd, today’s passage reminds us that the key to life is to know which voice to listen to. If we listen to the right voice, everything else will fall into place. Conversely, if we fail to listen to it, we shouldn’t be surprised if the rest of life feels dislocated.
Jesus is very clear that his is the Voice above all others, and he can make this bold claim because he carries unique authority: the only one with the authority, not just to lay down his life, but also to take it up again (vv17-18). Only God can decide to rise from the dead! And because of this unique authority, his invitation to listen to his voice goes far beyond his own people: (v16) ‘I have other sheep that are not of this sheepfold. I must bring them also… There shall be one flock and one shepherd.’
It is these last two claims – to unique authority and global reach – that continued to divide his listeners. Both are either wickedly arrogant or wonderfully true. There isn’t really a middle ground, as C.S. Lewis famously observed. It divided people then (vv19-21), and now. Which Voice will we listen to? Which flock are we part of? Praise God that he has given us a Good Shepherd! Life is challenging, and we are often tempted to doubt. May faith rise in each of us again today to trust the Good Shepherd, to listen to his voice, and to live as one flock, for the sake of His world.
Monday 3rd June – John 10:11-15 ‘Caring for the flock’
I recently watched a remarkable wildlife documentary about octopi (that’s the plural of octopus!) Many octopus mothers – including the one in this film – are known to lay eggs only once in their lives. They guard and care diligently for the eggs, all the while losing weight and weakening due to a lack of food – largely because their constant vigilance to protect their young against predators means they can’t risk leaving them to eat. Indeed, in recent scientific observations, an octopus mother even refused food when offered pieces of crab by the research team. Over time, they also change colour, usually taking on a ghostly pallor. These remarkable mothers often die soon after the eggs hatch, essentially sacrificing themselves for the success of their children.
This example provides a great illustration of what Jesus is teaching about today. When it comes to the privilege and responsibility of nurturing life, much depends on the one nurturing. When things get difficult, what is the one nurturing prepared to do for the sake of those in their care? Life as a shepherd in ancient Israel was hard, and often dangerous, if a wild animal came sniffing around. All you had was your courage and a rod to beat them off, and that was it. Unless the sheep were your overriding priority, there would be a strong temptation to run away, just as Jesus warns his listeners.
It’s why we need a shepherd, rather than a hired hand (v12). The shepherd simply has too much invested in his flock – emotionally and otherwise – to run away. When he sees a wolf coming, he stands his ground, for the sake of his flock, even risking his own life (v11, v15), if that’s what it took.
Jesus wants us to know that this is the kind of shepherd he is. It’s why we need to trust him as our Good Shepherd. There are many other voices: not just ‘hired hands’ who’ll let us down, but thieves who want to destroy (v10) – to rob us of all that makes life worth living. Voices which lie and deceive. Our first calling is to listen to Jesus’ voice – and tomorrow we’ll reflect on that in more detail.
But today, can I invite you to place your life once more into the strong and loving arms of this Good Shepherd: the One who never runs away but will be with you, no matter what, in every situation you face. The One who has proved his worth by already laying down his life for you. The One who alone is able to offer you life to the full. This is our Good Shepherd – and, as we trust ourselves into his care, may he lead all of us in the right paths this week.
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Head over to our Archive page to find previous series in the Psalms, the gospels of Mark, Luke and John, the Holy Spirit, Acts, 2 Corinthians, Philippians, Colossians, Hebrews, Isaiah, Daniel, Esther, Joshua, Deuteronomy, seasonal series for Advent, Easter, Remembrance, and more besides!