You Were There (2/2/04)
Step into the house of Zacharias and Elizabeth as Zacharias returns from serving in the Temple. He is agitated, excited, yet as he returns to his wife of many years, he is unable to speak of his excitement. Had she heard, by the time he arrived, that his tongue had been silenced? Surely, with the crowds that had witnessed the event, somebody had come to tell her. She had now had some few days to spend alone, wondering what it was that had befallen her husband. Was there worry, or was there only curiosity? By the time the story had reached her, there would have already been the understanding that her husband had seen a vision of some sort, although it is unlikely that any who came her way knew more than this. I'm thinking curiosity was the overriding thought on her mind. What had transpired, what did it mean? Doubtless, she was anxiously awaiting her husband as he returned to the house that day.
By then, he had most likely figured out ways to communicate beyond the wild gestures he had made coming out of the Sanctuary. Perhaps he even comes home with writing supplies to be on the safe side. At any rate, he quickly (as quickly as scribal means allow) explains what has transpired. Having the benefit of being forewarned that major events had transpired, it seems that Elizabeth was given to avoid the doubt that had troubled Zacharias. If any doubt had come, it apparently passed as quickly as it came, for it is said of her that she remained in seclusion for five long months, which I'm thinking began at the moment she learned of Gabriel's words to her husband.
The comment we have from her in v25 is not the comment of one reflecting back upon prior events, it is the statement of one convinced at the beginning that God was true to His word. Now, we know that it takes time for pregnancy to be certain, yet it is clear from this that she did not wait for physical evidence. Her faith in God was absolute. Her trust in her husband was also apparently quite strong. There was none of Sarah's reaction in this, but only the voice of faith. "God has hidden away my disgrace forever. I, too, will hide myself away as a sign of what He has done." It is not fear or exhaustion that causes Elizabeth to opt for seclusion, it is a clear understanding of the import of the events in which she was to take part.
It was no modesty about being pregnant at her age, indeed, it had less to do with herself, than with the big picture. The Redeemer was coming. This was a righteous woman, daughter of a priestly heritage, and wife of a well taught Levite. She knew her Torah. She knew the prophecies. She knew that, as God was taking away the reproach of her barrenness, taking it away never to be seen again, just so did Scripture teach that the Redeemer would take the sins from His people; "I will forgive their iniquity, and their sin I will remember no more" (Jer 31:33). In her lifetime, indeed, in her very womb, the fulfillment of these words was coming to pass! Indeed, God had looked upon her with great favor!
New Thoughts (2/2/04-2/3/04)
There are two words in this passage that need to be understood, after which the fuller significance of the passage is perhaps more clearly seen. The first of these is seclusion. This is not merely staying home. It is a function of hiding entirely. No matter who was looking or from what angle they might look, she was not to be seen. She was 'concealed all over.' The second word, a phrase in the English, is 'take away,' to take off, to remove. Thayer's notes that this same word is used of God's treating of the sins of the redeemed. He takes them off, removes them from his sight, remembers them no more.
So, Elizabeth, by her seclusion, does a twofold work. She herself draws the connection between what God is doing and what she is doing. "He has removed my disgrace. He as taken it from sight, to be remembered no more." For five months, in light of this, she hid herself from sight. When she was seen once more, there would be no denying what the Lord had done. There would be no mistaking her for one still barren. There would be no opportunity for further reproach. That which God had removed would no longer be remembered. Thus, her seclusion was a joining with God in His work. He is working to hide my disgrace, and until He has completed His perfect hiding, I will hide the work in progress. "I have hid myself because the Lord is hiding me."
On another level, however, she stands as a sign of God's redemptive work in man. That becomes plain in the other uses of 'take away.' We come to the declaration of God, as quoted in Romans 11:27 - "This is My covenant, when I take away their sins." That verse actually rolls together the thoughts of a number of pieces of prophetic Scripture. It includes in its thoughts, the words of Jeremiah 31:33 - "I will forgive their iniquity, and their sin I will remember no more." To this, Elizabeth adds her physical manifestation of this great truth: "Because God has taken away my reproach [my sin], I have hidden myself." What God has removed will be seen no more. When He removes our sins, they are removed most permanently, such that even He shall no longer recall their existence!
Can you imagine this? Can you imagine the scene before the throne of Judgment, as saint after saint stands before the Holy One - still plagued by memories of their shortcomings in the course of earthly life. One by one they stand before Him, seeking to confess their unworthiness, but the Judge looks down upon them, and says, "No, there's no record of any such event here, and I'm quite sure the record is complete and accurate. You must be misremembering the event." OK, so that may be stretching the matter, but this is surely the spirit of that courtroom. Perhaps we are more clear on the concept, and will not be overly inclined to try and remind His Holiness of our failures. Perhaps, instead, it will be the Accuser of the brethren who will seek to bring these matters up. But the Judge will do far more than look at him and remind him that the debt has been paid. He will hold up the official records of this matter and say, "No, there's no record of any such event. You are mistaken."
Watching "The Prince of Egypt" with the Jews last week, I am reminded of Ramses' pleading with Moses, trying to convince him that he could remain. "I am all-powerful here in Egypt. If I say you didn't kill that man, it didn't happen." As Pharaoh, Ramses was sufficiently powerful to cause his word to be echoed as though true. He could enforce his word to the point that any who would dare to gainsay him would find themselves permanently silenced. He could force the whole of the nation to say that his word was truth. Yet, he could not make his word truth. By contrast, when God looks upon the redeemed, and says, "It never happened," He alone amongst all creation has in Himself the power to make that Truth. It is no longer the rash and wishful statement, it is reality!
Notice how Elizabeth's silence shouts out of what God has done. She is living out His active participation in her life. He has taken away the curse of barrenness from her. It is removed, and will not be seen again. Barrenness, once removed, is removed. Having borne a child, she can never be declared barren again. It's an irreversible action. We need to get it through our thick heads that this is exactly how God has dealt with our sins. They are removed, and that removal is every bit as irreversible as Elizabeth's motherhood. She hid herself away. She declared by her absence exactly what God was doing for her. When once more she would allow herself to be seen, none would ever be able to declare her cursed by barrenness ever again.
When God's children are seen in the fullness of their redemption, none will ever be able to declare them sinners ever again. Yet, I for one would love to be able to hide myself away until that work was at such a stage as to be undeniable, if not yet complete. However, God requires of us to live before man, to remain in the world even as we are being taken out of it. Still, we are hidden as we await that work to be done. We are hidden from God's wrath, we are hidden in the shadow of His Son, such that as He looks upon our work in progress, He sees only the perfection of His only Begotten. When He looks upon our work in progress, He sees only the end-product, for when we see Him, we will be like Him.
Lord, when I consider the distance I have yet to go in this walk of sanctification, how thankful I am that You hide me in Yourself until the walk is complete! How loving a Brother I have in You, that You do this for me! I am also thankful, my Lord, that You have not made me forgetful of who I was, for if I knew only who I am and who I should be, I would surely despair of finishing this course. Yet, You bless me with memory of where I have been, who I have been, and I can measure great distances traversed already, though I see so far remaining to go. I can remember, and I can be assured that Your hand has carried me thus far, Your hand will surely carry me through.
Since, Father, it is not in Your purpose to hide me while this work continues, I pray, then, that You would guard the hearts of those around me, that my shortcomings would not become a poison to their own efforts, that the outbreaks of my old, corrupted flesh would not damage the tender spirits of those You have entrusted to my care here. Lord, there are those battles it seems I have been fighting - or not fighting, as the case may be - for as long as I've been with You. How long, Lord? How long will I continue to allow these things their place? God! Except I have Your strength in me to walk away from them once and for all, You and I both know I cannot stand against them at all. It's in Your hands, my Lord. Oh! That You will find me willing, find me doing my part to further Your own efforts!
There's one more thing that should not go unnoticed in regards to Elizabeth. Zacharias, because he had spoken out in unbelief, found himself silenced until every opportunity for unbelief was removed. He was left with no opportunity, no means, to speak doubt of God's word. Elizabeth, in like fashion, removes every opportunity for words of unbelief. Had she gone about her usual routine those first few months, perhaps declaring that her barrenness had come to an end, there would doubtless have been any number of folks around who would point out the impossibility of the thing to her. Words of unbelief would be the atmosphere that surrounded her. She would not suffer such a thing to happen. No! She would make no appearance, lay no claim to the miracle God was working until it was quite clear that the miracle was indeed reality.
Was this doubt? No. In a way, it was a protecting of those she knew from the opportunity to sin as Zacharias had sinned. Unbelief, as I have noted elsewhere, is a most serious sin, a sin that denies God His godhood, were such a thing possible. Had she told the world around her of the news when it was still not plainly visible to all who looked, many would have declared it nonsense, many would have unwittingly called God a liar, and many would possibly have placed themselves in the path of His wrath because of her. She would not have it so. She would be certain not to be a cause of temptation to sin to those around her.
How about us? Are we so careful of our words? Are we so careful of the claims we make on God's behalf? It's a fine line between taking God at His word, and simply being credulous. In this day and age, men are far to free and easy with claiming God's word on this matter or that. Prophecies flow like a flood from the mouths of so many. Yet, how many of these prophecies are God's word, and how many are more like those Jeremiah faced in his day - gushing out words that sound good, but have nothing to do with God's declaration? So, let's give us the benefit of the doubt, and suppose that our claims of God's declaration to us are real. How careful are we with the word He has given us? Do we rush forth shouting about what the Lord has done when the evidence of our physical nature shouts something completely opposite? Do we claim to be healed even as we hack and cough, even as we hobble away on our cane?
Oh, we are very careful lest our own words betray unbelief. We are very careful to credit God with whatever it is we hope He's doing in us at the moment! Doing this, however, puts every person within hearing range of us in danger, for it puts them in prime position to doubt. Positive thinking may be all well and good, but it has little or nothing to do with God. Nor is it necessarily likely to convince anybody other than the one doing the thinking. But such a convincing is as likely to be delusional as godly. Better by far to wait to give God the glory until His glorious intervention is clearly visible in the situation. Wait until there is that which you can point at and say, "Look what that Lord has done!" Then, your words can cause no unbelief. Then will God have the glory for His labor in you.
Finally, let me be very clear on this point. God is active in His creation. During the discussions that followed viewing that movie in the temple, I was somewhat shocked and saddened to discover that even amongst the Jews, there is the school of rabbis who are quite certain that God is not so intimately involved in His creation. Perhaps this shouldn't have surprised me, but it did. It is such a sad, low, view of God. "Oh, He wouldn't treat us like puppets!" This is the standard line of argument for those who insist that God is remote, uninvolved in the details of the lives He has created. This is the same battle that seems to continually trouble the Church, the battle of Free Will. If we are free willed, then it cannot be that God works upon us to direct our ways, and if He does direct our ways, we are no more than automatons moving only because He forces our moves. And, if we are automatons, then on what basis sin? It's an old game, but in the end, it is no more than man seeking another plausible denial of his guilt before a holy God.
Look, He Himself declares that it is He who directs ours steps. "The mind of man plans his way, but the LORD directs his steps" (Pr 16:9). "Man's steps are ordained by the LORD" (Pr 20:24a). The whole of Scripture is a record of God guiding the paths of men to accomplish His purpose, and in this He has not restricted Himself to those who willingly serve Him. When we read that God hardened Pharaoh's heart, what was required on His part except that he allow Pharaoh to pursue his own path unrestrained? When a man, naturally inclined towards sinfulness, is convinced to cast aside all of his wicked pleasures and seek to walk righteously before the Lord instead, what has occurred but that God has restrained his normal ways? What has occurred is that God has opened his eyes to the choices truly available. Where he once could only see the choice to sin, God opened his eyes to the opportunity to obey a gentler Master. When that opportunity has been revealed, and the choice is still to pursue the slavery of sin, is it the reaction of an automaton? I think not. If God, seeing that choice, determines to remove His restraint, and allow that one to pursue his chosen course, has He been unjust? I think not.
Those same ones who will look upon His intimate involvement with His creation as the manipulations of a puppet master, will yet be offended by those occasions where He does not interfere. They will declare themselves offended by the thought that He might so interfere in the course of a man's life as to save him, and then they will turn around and declare themselves offended by the thought that He might be so hands-off in a man's life as to allow him to curse himself by his choices. And they proceed to look upon this god as they have imagined him, and find themselves perplexed by him, constantly offended by him, but, since they have made him god, they will fight tooth and nail to maintain belief in this conception they have called god!
I watched this played out before me. Here was this proponent of remote-god, looking upon the record of true God delivering His people from the injustice of Egypt, of true God delivering Justice upon the Canaanites, delivering Justice for practices most incredibly heinous, and this rabbi declares that she cannot accept a God who would do such a thing! She, in essence, declares that she knows the situation better than God, has a clearer understanding of what is ethically and morally right than God, declares herself, in brief, higher than God. If she cannot accept the God she claims to serve, and serves a god she does not claim to, this is psychosis, this isn't faith! At best, it's pop psychology dressed in fine linen. At worst, well, it's a temptation to unbelief.
This is not to say that we won't be challenged by the God who presents Himself to us in Scripture. But, to face His revelation of Himself, and decide that His words are untrue, no this cannot be allowed. When we find the record of God seeming to contradict the essence of God, we need to seek greater understanding, not a lesser God. If it seems His actions are devoid of love, devoid of mercy, devoid of justice, then we need to recognize that it is our understanding of His actions that is lacking, not His actions. He is that He is. If ever He seems other than that, we need to understand that it only seems that way to our imperfect senses. How can we ever think our imperfection has rank over His perfection? How can we ever think that our thoughts are wiser than those of Him whose ways are so far above our own? May it never be! Better all men should be found liars than that God should be discovered untrue! Then, indeed, God is dead, but I know He lives forevermore, and He is True.
