“…for he was
thinking: there is
going to be peace
and security
in my
lifetime.” --Isaiah 39:8
“My lifetime…” Me, my life… How will this affect me? How
will it benefit or trouble me? How often
is that our only concern, our one true focus? And yes, I am thinking of all the
people who are hoarding food, hoarding disinfectants, hoarding toilet
paper!! Why? Because they are worried. They are scared. Me
too. We all are, at least a little bit. But some people are letting that fear guide
them. They are so anxious that something might disrupt their comfort, distress
their routine, that they are grabbing for every bit of security and control
over their world that they can. Regardless of how it affects anyone else, they
are anxiously gathering the supplies they need to live a life of peace and
security.
This passage in Isaiah deals with Hezekiah, king of Judah
(716-687 BCE), and a warning he receives of future troubles that will come after
he has died. Hezekiah is one of those
kings with a mixed record. He is praised for religious reforms, for purifying
and repairing the Temple, for centralizing worship at the Temple, and tearing
down “high places” and idolatrous objects. He also reigned during the siege of
the Assyrians, and is credited with keeping the city safe, and yet at the end
of his life he is depicted as a vain and foolish man who is easily tempted by
praise and honor. And –by a false sense
of peace and security.
This passage comes at the end of a story about Babylonian
emissaries who come to visit King Hezekiah.
And in a moment of foolish pride, Hezekiah shows off his castle and all
his riches to these emissaries. Soon
after this visit, the prophet Isaiah comes to Hezekiah to call him out for his
foolishness. He tells him:
“The days are coming when everything in your palace,
everything
your ancestors have amassed until now, will be carried
off
to Babylon. Not a thing will be left… Sons begotten by
you
will be… eunuchs in the palace of the king of Babylon.”
(cf.39:6-7)
But Hezekiah’s response is only: at least there will be
peace and security in my lifetime.
How are we any different today? And I don’t think this speaks just to
the current pandemic and fears. It’s about the way we have been living for decades,
if not centuries. We –at least here in the West—have been living lives of covetousness
and consumption. We want, and we get and we discard and then we want some more.
And there is little concern for other people, other generations who might have
to suffer the consequences of our lives of abundance and comfort and amassing
so much personal treasure that we can’t even contain it, but have to rent storage
units to keep safe our overabundance! We could apply the lesson of King Hezekiah
to so many things: global warming, overflowing landfills, personal
responsibility, corporate greed, Wallstreet, the financial crises… It all boils
down to—on some level—selfishness, disregard for the other, for our neighbor, and
for the poor people who make the cheap shoes we love to buy, for the future, and
for the rest of the world—even those we can’t see. Or choose not to.
Let us take a moment, here and now, while God has slowed the
world down for us, given us some breathing space, a moment to sit still and
listen to the birds, hear the breeze in the leaves, watch the clouds passing
by, and smile at a neighbor who is quietly walking past pushing a stroller or
walking a dog. Let us take a moment here and now and learn the lesson of
Hezekiah. On the surface he was a pretty
good king, pretty good Jew, but below that surface there was a selfishness and
vanity that festered like a boil (cf. 38:1-8),
and left behind it a nightmare of desolation. After his death, Hezekiah’s son, King
Manasseh, returned to all the practices Hezekiah had tried to reform, even adding
to them things much worse: human sacrifice, the worship of pagan idols. In the
end, Hezekiah’s peace and security in his lifetime, lead to the destruction of the
Temple and the Babylonian captivity.
But there is hope. God’s love is unchanging, eternal. And
here we are in this place and this time, being called by God to make a few
sacrifices, to get our priorities straight.
It is a chance for us to think about the legacy we want to leave behind:
do we want to be remembered as people who shopped well, or people who loved generously
and without fear?
Take a moment and think about someone who might need you to
reach out to them. Someone homebound, or elderly, someone frightened by the news,
someone who has no sense of peace or security, but only anxiety and fear. Or
loneliness. Do you know of one person like that? Call them. Focus for a moment, not on yourself, but on them. Ask them how they
are doing, ask them if they need anything, and most of all tell them you were
thinking about them and wanted to hear their voice. And before you hang up the phone,
tell them you will pray for them. Then
take a moment and do it.
We need to slow down and make space for others. Start here.
Start now. In your own heart, this very day, make room for just one more. And tomorrow… maybe another… two by two we
will fill God’s ark with those we love until the moment we find it is full—because
everyone has found a place inside. Today we begin to love as God loves, to love
everyone. And it starts by looking outside yourself, your security, your peace,
your lifetime.
