Ep.062: Daniel and the Lions.

Hello, I’m Daniel Westfall on the channel “Pray With Me”.

I asked my parents once why they named me Daniel.  They said “Because we liked the name, and because it’s in the Bible.”

The Book of Daniel tells stories about his life while he served in the court of Babylon. He interpreted bizarre dreams for King Nebuchadnezzar and mysterious handwriting on the wall for King Belshazzar. Daniel’s three friends were thrown into a raging fire but were unharmed. Daniel was thrown to the lions but was not eaten. Daniel had a series of disturbing dreams about an apocalyptic future where evil dictators persecute the saints, where the whole earth experiences disaster and chaos, and finally a son of man comes riding on the clouds of heaven to sort it out. I can see why the Hebrew Bible doesn’t group Daniel with the prophets, but with the Ketuvim which are books of miscellaneous writings and poetry and history and stories.

Today we look at Daniel in the lions’ den. An upper class Jewish exile serving in the Babylonian court, he was a true survivor. He outlived King Nebuchadnezzar’s mental health problems and transitioned successfully to the Medo-Persian rule when they deposed the Babylonian king and claimed the empire. King Darius the Mede made Daniel a chief ruler in his administration, where Daniel gained both power and powerful enemies. His enemies scrutinized Daniel’s administration for signs of corruption or negligence, but when they came up empty, they decided to go after his religious life. (In my years as a working man, I’m fortunate that nobody scrutinized my management or my religious practices for corruption and negligence).  

Meanwhile, Daniel’s enemies arranged for King Darius to proclaim a new law: For 30 days, no one could pray to any god or human except the king. Violators would be thrown to the lions. Daniel, of course, ignored the law and continued praying three times a day at an open window facing Jerusalem.

When Daniel’s enemies reported this to Darius, the king realized he’d been had. But it was “the law of the Medes and Persians” that even the king could not immediately repeal his own law. So he regretfully threw Daniel to the lions, spent a sleepless night worrying, and in the morning hurried to the lions’ den and shouted “Daniel, has your God been able to rescue you?”

Daniel replied, “My God sent his angel and shut the mouths of the lions.” The happy king had Daniel pulled out and the tricky advisors thrown in. When I was a child, my favorite bit was the statement that  “Before [the advisors] reached the floor of the den, the lions overpowered them and crushed all their bones” (Daniel 6:24). I wonder if I should talk with my therapist about why I found that so satisfying?

Instead of drawing lessons from Daniel’s experience, I give you two pictures from his story.

First, the classic picture of Daniel standing safely among the lions. It has inspired many artists.

And second, the picture of Daniel praying at his window. Over the years, my religious life has shifted from fantasizing about becoming a major Christian politician like Daniel, giving dream interpretations and advice in the high courts of international intrigue, to a more simple vision of a life spent praying at some window. I hope your life takes a similar direction.

Let’s pray.

Our father, we see the picture of Daniel standing quietly among the lions. Teach us to live among our lions with faith and wisdom and integrity.

And we see the picture of Daniel praying at his open window, facing Jerusalem where your temple was in ruins and your people lived in poverty.  May we pray faithfully as he did.

Amen.  

I’m Daniel on the channel “Pray with Me”.

Ep.061: Psalm22: Godforsaken.

Hello, I’m Daniel Westfall on the channel “Pray with Me”.

Psalm 22 begins, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” This prayer is etched on the Christian imagination, in our memory of Jesus hanging on the cross, suffering and dying, alone and godforsaken.

We too experience abandonment in our lives. Overwhelmed by grief and pain, relationships in disarray, church dry and annoying, scripture uninteresting, prayers distracted and powerless, and a God who is absent and disinterested. Behind these personal difficulties is the universal problem: If God is love, why is the earth filled with violence, abuse, disease, poverty, wars, and injustice?  Has God has forsaken the whole world?

Let’s start by listening to the poet’s prayer. His first words are “My God, my God.” These words refute atheism and rationalism and existentialism. Even when we feel the situation is hopeless, the worst is upon us, that evil is winning, that life has no meaning and even God has given up, our prayer still begins “My God, my God.”

This is a cry from the heart. We don’t understand what God is doing, we are pained by his absence, oppressed by his silence, offended by his refusal to help. But through all this, he remains “MY God”. We remember when he was near to us, times when he brought us comfort and courage and joy. Even now in our forsakenness, he gives us each breath we breathe. So we call him by name, and we call him out, saying, “MY God” as we point out his lack of love, his lack of attention, and his failure to live up to his name and his promises.

And then, having asserted our relationship with him, we ask the painful question, “Why have you forsaken me?” The poet does not retreat into silent pain, he speaks to God about his experience, he shouts his troubles, he tells God how bad things are. If we join him in this prayer, our complaint mingles with his complaint and with Jesus’ anguished cry from the cross and with the suffering of Jews and Christians over three thousand years. This prayer embraces the world’s pain and puts in on display before humans and God, even if no one is listening.

For twenty and a half verses, the poet details his misery to God.

Then half way through verse 21, the language of pain and suffering is exhausted. Abruptly and unexpectedly the song changes tune. Some new experience or revelation shines into the darkness. The poet says, “You rescued me from the horns of the wild oxen. You have not despised the suffering of the afflicted one but you have listened to his cry for help” (vv 22 – 24). And the psalm finishes with a song of praise to the God who hears and saves and delivers. The God who abandoned is suddenly the God who rescues. God saves not only the poet but all nations and all creation and all the generations that follow. God has turned from king in absentia to God ever present.

Let’s pray.

Our father, evil and war and genocide have scarred the world you made: Syria, Yemen, Sudan, Rwanda, the Rohingya refugees, residential schools in Canada, the Holocaust. Have you abandoned us to do our worst to each other? Cancer and depression are the defining diseases of western civilization, we use drugs to mask physical and mental and relational pain, we numb ourselves with entertainment. Have you forsaken us to the consequences of living in a godless society?

O God, our experience of you moves randomly and inexplicably between the comforts of faith and the fear of forsakenness. We ask two things of you. When we experience your presence, leave your imprint of faith on our lives. And when we experience forsakenness, give us the courage to pray, “My God, my God.”

Amen

I’m Daniel on the channel “Pray with Me”.

Ep.060: Ezekiel in the Gap.

Hello, I’m Daniel Westfall on the channel “Pray With Me”.

The prophet Ezekiel lived at the same time as Jeremiah. He was exiled to Babylon in the first round of deportations, along with King Jehoiachin and much of upper class Judah. So while Jeremiah was prophesying in Jerusalem, Ezekiel was prophesying in Babylon.

Ezekiel is responsible for the famous prayer metaphor, “stand in the gap”.  He quotes God by saying, “I looked for someone . . . who would build up the wall and stand . . . in the gap on behalf of the land so I would not have to destroy it, but I found no one. So I will pour out my wrath on them and consume them with my fiery anger” (Eze. 22:30 – 31).

This raises two questions:
First, what does it mean to stand in the gap?
And second, it seems to me that Jeremiah and Ezekiel were busy standing in the gap, so why couldn’t God find anyone to do the job?

First, what it means. Imagine a fortified wall, like the Great Wall of China or the wall Israel built against Palestine or the one President Trump wants along the Mexican border. Wherever there is a door or a gap in the wall, you need guards to keep out the undesirables. So the guards stand in the gap to protect the mother country.

One example of standing in the gap occurred during the exodus from Egypt. When God became angry at the Israelites for making a golden calf and calling it their god, Moses intervened. Psalm 106 tells the story this way:
    So [the Lord] said he would destroy them –
       had not Moses, his chosen one,
    stood in the breach before him
       to keep his wrath from destroying them (Ps 106:23).

Moses faced down God’s anger. He advised God that it was a bad idea to destroy the unfaithful people, and he persuaded God to change his mind.

Today, websites such as “Guardians of the Gap” and International House of Prayer in Kansas City are created by people who want to stand in the gap for their nation. A quick study of modern movements shows that they change the vision Moses and Ezekiel created in these ways:

  1. They assign God’s interest to all nations of the world, not just to his special people Israel in Old Testament times. So they encourage “standing in the gap” for your nation, wherever it is in the world, even if the nation doesn’t have a contract with God like Israel did.
  2. They don’t say much about facing down God’s anger and advising him not to act on it. God’s anger is a topic that gets lots of publicity in the Old Testament, but not much today.
  3. They suggest a broader application than just standing in the gap to prevent national disasters like the exile. They stand in the gap for people they know, for churches, for parachurch ministries, and of course for various countries. Ezekiel might be surprised, but probably not opposed, to see how his turn of phrase has become a standing metaphor for Christian prayer two and a half millennia later. I’m pretty sure that two and a half millennia from today, my turns of phrase will be long forgotten.

Let’s pray.

Our father, the people of Israel didn’t create just a gap with the golden calf, they pretty much demolished their relationship with you. But when Moses argued on their behalf, you changed your mind and did not destroy them. Jeremiah and Ezekiel stood in the gap for Judah, watching the people violate their contract with you. But these prophets were unable to avert your fierce anger, and Babylon destroyed the city, the temple, and the political system.

Our father, are you angry with our western civilization as you were with Judah and Jerusalem?  Are you angry with modern Israel for their sins against you and their neighbours? If we stand in the gap, confessing the sins of our country, asking you to lose your anger and spare us from judgment, will you do it? In our time, are you willing to preserve our nation — our civil society and our national security and our way of life? Where does your kingdom fit into our world of 21st century nations?

Our father, shelter us under your wings of mercy. Help us keep faith with Christ in our living and our dying. Be our God and our Saviour in the preservation of our civilization or in its judgment and destruction.

Amen.  

I’m Daniel on the channel “Pray with Me”.

Ep.059: Psalm21: Game of Thrones.

Hello, I’m Daniel Westfall on the channel “Pray with Me”.

In our journey through the psalms, you may have noticed the immense role that imagination plays. The poets invite us to see the world as they see it, to experience life as they experience it, and to pray to God as they pray to him. Today, as we look at Psalm 21, the poet invites us to imagine God as the king of kings, sitting on his throne in heaven. We celebrate this great unseen king as he helps the earthly king of Israel prosecute military adventures and destroy his enemies.

The heavenly kingdom where God rules is not a democracy. The high king, God, rules over a council of lesser gods (as described in Psalm 82:1), and over the kings on earth. Psalm 21 celebrates the special relationship between this highest God and the king of Israel. Their relationship is based on the covenant, a mutually binding contract, in which the nation of Israel agreed to be a faithful client of God, and God in return agreed to be faithful and loving to Israel and to their king.

The first half of the psalm emphasizes that God is the one who makes the king of Israel successful. The psalm says:
 The heavenly King gives military victories. (vv. 1, 5)  
 The heavenly King places a crown of gold on the earthly king’s head. (v. 3)
 The heavenly King gives long life and great joy and rich blessing. (vv. 1, 3, 4)
 The heavenly King establishes the earthly kingdom so it will not be shaken. (v. 7)

The second half of the psalm describes the earthly king’s exploits, enabled by his heavenly connections.
 The earthly king captures his enemies. (v. 8)
 The earthly king foils their plans. (v. 11)
 The earthly king makes them retreat in fear. (v. 12)
 The earthly king destroys his enemies and their descendants. (v. 10)

Let’s pray.

Our father, your kingship is a foreign idea to us. In our western democracies, we vote for prime ministers and presidents, who then humiliate themselves chasing after opinion polls and popularity and power. I’m afraid there’s no room for you in our system, God. We have closed our imagination to the idea of a king in heaven, we live under the illusion of political cause and effect, our western civilization marches to the tunes we compose and the drums we beat.

In those rare moments when we pray that you will influence politics on earth, the best we can imagine is a choice between bad alternatives. In Canada we choose between the liberals who incur debt to build “inclusive” social programs; and the conservatives who urge fiscal responsibility and social conservatism. American evangelicals choose between Donald Trump who supports their anti-abortion, anti-gay agenda, and the Democrats who prefer social liberalism, moral relativism, and socialized medicine.

Our father, if you are indeed the king over earthly kings, show us a third way. Surely the world you imagine does not leave us caught on the horns of an evil dilemma. Surely Christ’s kingdom, if we could only see it and live in it, offers a rule of freedom from the culture wars, freedom from the battles of church politics, freedom from the conflict of nations, freedom from our disordered and selfish appetites

Surely Christ’s kingdom gives us freedom to love and serve you in our communities and nations.

Our father in heaven, your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
Amen

I’m Daniel on the channel “Pray with Me”.

Ep.058: Weep, Pray, and Complain.

The book of Jeremiah is the longest book in the Bible. It is mostly a collection of long prophetic poems that
– denounce Judah’s sins,
– predict the downfall of Jerusalem, and
– declare judgment on surrounding nations.

Occasional breaks in this monotonous prophetic material tell bits of Jeremiah’s story.

He was a prophet who was unhappy with his jobIt was no fun telling the Jerusalem establishment that God was angry with them, and that their political system, their temple, and their city would soon be destroyed. While Jeremiah preached sin and destruction, other more optimistic prophets were saying to the people, “Don’t listen to Jeremiah. God is not against us. He is for us. He will bring us lasting peace.” Little wonder Jeremiah was often embroiled in conflicts with these prophets.

After many years of predicting the fall of Jerusalem, it finally happened. The Babylonians invaded and conquered. Jeremiah lived through the Babylonian siege, he witnessed the destruction of city and temple, and he watched the forced exile of many Israelites.  For him, the only thing sadder than prophesying the disaster was living through it. That’s why Jeremiah is called the weeping prophet.

Let’s consider three of Jeremiah’s prayers. At one point he prays,
    “You deceived me, Lord . . .
       you overpowered me and prevailed.
    I am ridiculed all day long;
       everyone mocks me.
    Whenever I speak, I cry out
       proclaiming violence and destruction.
    Your word has brought me
       insult and reproach all day long.
    But if I say, ‘I will not mention your word
       or speak anymore in your name,’
    your word is like fire in my heart,
       a fire shut up in my bones.
    I am weary of holding it in;
       indeed, I cannot.”  (Jeremiah 7:7-9, paraphrased)

That’s Jeremiah’s prayer. “God, you tricked me into this prophetic ministry. All I get from it is ridicule and insults. But if I try to shut up, your word burns like fire in my bones. You’ve made me a volcano, spewing fire and brimstone whenever your word erupts. I’m tired of it, God, what am I to do?”

In another prayer he says,
Although our sins testify against us,
       do something, Lord, for the sake of your name.
For we have often rebelled;
     we have sinned against you.
    You who are the hope of Israel,
       its Savior in times of distress,
    why are you like a stranger in the land,
       like a traveler who stays only a night?
   
Why are you like a man taken by surprise,
       like a warrior powerless to save?
    You are among us, Lord,
       and we bear your name;
       do not forsake us! (Jer. 14:7-9)

Jeremiah knew the pain of unanswered prayer, the feeling that God should show and do something, instead of letting the situation grew worse and worse.  

And a third prayer:
    Lord, I know that people’s lives are not their own;
       it is not for them to direct their steps.
    Discipline me, Lord, but only in due measure—
       not in your anger,
       or you will reduce me to nothing. (Jer. 10:23-24)

What a beautiful picture of life in God’s care. Our lives are not our own, we don’t direct our steps, we cannot control our fate. Discipline us, Lord. Teach us what we need to know, take us where we need to go. But do it gently, Lord, for we are fragile. If you are angry with us, you will destroy us.

Let’s pray.
Our father, like Jeremiah we often find your word embarrassing, out of touch with the thinking and values of our culture, and personally confusing. What is the right path for our present and future? Our lives our not our own, they are yours. Direct our steps Lord, discipline us gently. Do not destroy us, but save us.
Amen.

I’m Daniel on the channel “Pray with Me”.