Thursday • 3/23/2023 •
Week of 4 Lent
This morning’s Scriptures are: Psalm 69:1–23(24–30)31–38; Jeremiah 22:13-23; Romans 8:12–27; John 6:41–51
This morning’s Canticles are: following the OT reading, Canticle 8 (“The Song of Moses,” Exodus 15, BCP, p. 85); following the Epistle reading, Canticle 19 (“The Song of the Redeemed,” Revelation 15:3–4, BCP, p. 94)
Welcome to Daily Office Devotions, where every Monday through Friday we consider some aspect of that day’s Scripture readings, as given in the Book of Common Prayer. I’m Reggie Kidd, and I’m grateful to be with you. This is Thursday of the fourth week of Lent.
A son of presumption. Jehoiakim, next-to-last king of Judah before the Babylonian captivity, is a sad study in the way a sense of entitlement leads to a desultory end. Jehoiakim’s father was Josiah, one of the good kings of Judah (2 Kings 22–23). Josiah had become king as a boy. Early in his reign, a forgotten copy of Scripture (perhaps the book of Deuteronomy) had been found by a member of his court. God’s Word captured Josiah’s heart, and he launched a life-long reformation that refreshed and renewed God’s people. Over the course of his long reign, Josiah practiced justice and righteousness, and “judged the cause of the poor and needy; then it was well” (Jeremiah 22:16).
Amy Grant once sang, “When people look inside my life, I want to hear them say, ‘She’s got her Father’s eyes.’” Alas, that’s not the way it was for Jehoiakim. He did not have his Father’s eyes, though he should have been able to see Yahweh in his father’s eyes. Jehoiakim oppressed the poor, exploited labor, acquired illicit lovers, and built a lavish house as a monument to his own ego: “Are you a king,” asks Jeremiah, “because you compete in cedar?” (Jeremiah 22:15). All this, despite the fact that Jehoiakim had witnessed in his earthly father what Jeremiah means when he points to Josiah’s godly life and says: “Is this not to know me?” (Jeremiah 22:16).
Image: Scroll of Esther, Wedding gift by Leah Jones, CC BY 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons
Jehoiakim becomes a foil for Jeremiah, an example of what it is not to have the law of God written on the heart. Jehoiakim’s future will be filled with suffering: “you will groan, when pangs come upon you, pain as of a woman in labor!”—but with no promise of redemptive offspring (Jeremiah 22:23). His death will be one unworthy of royalty: “They shall not lament for him, saying, ‘Alas, lord!’ or ‘Alas, his majesty!’ With the burial of a donkey he shall be buried—dragged off and thrown out beyond the gates of Jerusalem” (Jeremiah 22:18b–19). He will suffer alone, and to no good end—except to serve as an example of where a life of narcissism and inflated ego leads.
Finally, and perhaps most tragically, Jehoiakim’s ears were closed to the voice of God that constantly appealed to him, “I spoke to you in your prosperity, but you said, ‘I will not listen’” (Jeremiah 22:21).
Children without pretense. Paul ponders, by contrast, the state of those who do have their Heavenly Father’s eyes. Those who belong to Christ are, with him, made heirs of their Heavenly Father’s inheritance. They have his very heart within themselves, the Spirit of Christ: “When we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’ it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ—if, in fact, we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him” (Romans 8:15b–17).
When suffering comes upon these children, their experience is entirely different than Jehoiakim’s.
Jehoiakim suffered alone. Christ’s brothers and sisters suffer too, but in fellowship with him: “…if, in fact, we suffer with him.” Ours is not a Savior who accomplished a drive-by salvation, briefly inhabiting our valley of woe just long enough to win our assurance of heaven. He lies with us on our sickbed, walks the unemployment line with us, and absorbs every cruel word and gesture flung our way.
Not only that, Christ’s brothers and sisters bear their “inward groaning” in hope. They know that their suffering puts them in solidarity with “the whole creation [that] has been groaning in labor pains,” eagerly waiting for the consummation of all things and the glory to come (Romans 8:18–23). For Jehoiakim, the end of suffering is destruction. By contrast, for Christ’s brothers and sisters, there’s a vision of a larger, loving purpose to everything they experience. Always, for them, the groaning is but a waiting for “adoption, the redemption of our bodies,” always an anticipation of resurrection.
As a result, Christ’s brothers and sisters live, not lives of a “Jehoiakim-like” insistence on their “best life now,” but rather, “if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience” (Romans 8:25). It’s a patience that is willing to do without so that someone else can have. It’s a patience that is slow to anger and quick to forgive. It’s a patience that commits itself to serving the ends of justice and compassion, with high regard for the frailty of the human family and the dullness of the human heart.
Finally, unlike Jehoiakim who persistently resisted the voice of God, Christ’s brothers and sisters find themselves keenly attuned to the presence of the very Spirit of God working within them. The Spirit intercedes for them when they’ve exhausted their own prayer resources. Providing something like a release valve for their troubled souls, the Spirit draws wordless (alalētos) sighs and groanings from deep within them (Romans 8:26–27). The Spirit leads them when they need wisdom, counsel, and even course-correction (Romans 8:4,13). And always, always, always the Spirit testifies to them that they are their Heavenly Father’s beloved, adopted treasures and heirs (Romans 8:17).
Be blessed this day,
Reggie Kidd+