When tough times hit, we need community around us. The account of Esther, in a foreign land amongst the exiled Jews in Susa, a centre of Persian power, is extraordinary. The opportunity created for her through complex circumstances enabled her to not only save the Jews across the 127 provinces from India to Africa, but also offer them new security and a new impetus as they rebuilt Jerusalem, the Temple and their identity as God’s chosen people in Palestine.

Esther was FIT to be not just the queen of Persia, but as an active messenger of the living God.

FIT stands for Faithful, Intentional and Teachable.
We don’t know what circumstances lay ahead for God’s people, the followers of Jesus, especially in this hyper-paced world of connections, communications and technology. But the importance of human contact and community will increase along with their need.
So we will need to be like Esther, FIT for ‘such a time as this’. Ready to speak up in careful and discerning ways, being ‘wise as serpents and innocent as doves’. It’s a slippery tightrope to walk – if Esther had not found the Persian King’s favour, she would have been banished, if not executed. Her family was in the firing line of a particularly nasty character (Haman). One slip could have meant a premature, and ugly end, to these events.

And yet we are to continue to be FIT for service, to build community and relationships, to work on deepening these relationships, and being there for one-another. These are traits of disciples of Jesus, willing to take up our cross daily and follow Him. It’s not a call to wealth or power, but to service and commitment. And for those who receive the fruit of our labour, who find community of welcome, love and growth, it is a true blessing.

God was glorified through Esther’s faithfulness, and she is a potent example of God’s faithfulness to His people in this world – especially in complex circumstances.

Reference: Eugene Peterson “Five Smooth Stones for Pastoral Work”
 

“Hebel” is a Hebrew word notoriously hard to translate into English. Some options are ‘wind’, ‘vapour’, ‘meaningless’, or as one particularly vulgar writer has said, ‘flatulence’.
An example of “hebel” is the statement: ‘One person in this town will win lotto this week.’ They may or may not. They may win the jackpot or just a couple of dollars. If they do, I can say they did. If no one does, it is of no consequence to me. Hebel.
On the other hand, the word “Amen” means rock solid, absolute, no doubt YES. The chair I am sitting on is AMEN. If it wasn’t, I’d be on the floor. It is absolutely here underneath me, I know it, I feel it, it supports me (and is indeed very comfortable).

When Ecclesiastes was (as we think) compiled, there were numerous religious/philosophical systems of thought across the Jewish landscape, influenced by the traditions of Moses (Israelite), Eastern traditions (Assyrian, Babylonian and Persian, and increasingly Chinese), and Western traditions (Greek and increasingly Roman).
The clear waters of the faith of Israel were more and more polluted with all these other influences, from fresh waters of the Amen of the LORD their God, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, Samuel, David and Solomon, Isaiah and Ezekiel – to hebel water of mixed ideas and confused rituals.
Worse, these septic waters were being bottled and sold by religious teachers to willing buyers who wanted ‘modern’ ideas to scratch itchy ears, ideas that suited their lives and times. Sounds very familiar to me, even if we are thousands of years after Ecclesiastes was written.
Meaningless. Flatulence. Hebel.
We need to remember that we need to hear “No” from time to time. We need to be told “that is not correct” when our itchy ears desire hebel teaching above the biblical Amen. This occurs when the blessing of God (commonly understood of ‘happiness’, or ‘wholeness’) is separated from the God of blessing.

The writer of Ecclesiastes, only known to us as Qoheleth (disregarding for this moment the debates of Solomonic authorship), was trying to rediscover the fresh water of Amen amongst the flowing rivers of hebel. His writings were a warning to his own society, and ours, that there are clear boundaries in this life, outlined in Scripture (in his case, the Mosaic writings of the covenant, for us today the New Testament), granted to us by our Creator.

And we know that there is grace sufficient to redeem us from lives of hebel into lives of Amen in Christ Jesus, to drink the clear, cool, refreshing living water of life.

Reference: Eugene Peterson “Five Smooth Stones for Pastoral Work”

In the 19th year of the reign of Nebuchadnezzar, King of Babylon,
the 9th year of Zedekiah, puppet-king of Judah,
on the tenth day of the tenth month, the siege of Jerusalem began.
On the ninth day of the fourth month of the next year, all hell broke loose.
On the seventh day of the fifth month… Jerusalem was reduced to a pile of burning rubble.

In the Hebrew, the book of Lamentations is just called “How?”.

Evil and suffering are real and present in this life. War, famine, drought, sickness, cancer, broken relationship, betrayal, violence and corruption are here to stay in this world.
How do we respond?

Eugene Peterson puts forward three ways:

1. Recognition. Call the disaster for what it is, don’t sugar coat it. Recognising is means we acknowledge it, and can begin to work through the experience.
2. Response. The book of Lamentations responds to the disaster of the beloved city of the writer by composing five highly structured poems that describe the event, the effects and the reasons. Responding to suffering, and evil, by putting our thoughts down on paper or screen, or even video, begins to bring order to the chaos. We have to think it through before we can communicate it.
   
3. Context. All evil and suffering has a beginning, and an end. Both may be unthinkable, but are still real. In Eugene Peterson’s words, it is ‘historical’, that is, bound by time. Neither evil nor suffering we experience in this life will be eternal. There is a danger when we are in the midst of suffering to allow it to become our identity, to believe it is who we are. Putting this experience in context is a healthy spiritual step to avoid such a slide.

God knows our suffering, believe it or not, better than we do. He understands every part of it, from the physical to the mental, to the broken-heart and the broken body. He knows the grief and the anger, the fear and the long-suffering.
He took the deliberate action to enter into our history, to teach, to experience, to suffer, to die, and to be the first-fruits of the resurrection life.

The book of Lamentations, read out annually by the Jews on the ‘ninth of Ab’ accompanied with fasting and remembrance, helps us know that while evil and suffering are not yet eliminated, and are almost impossibly difficult to explain, God does understand and is present even in our deepest pain.

Reference: Eugene Peterson “Five Smooth Stones for Pastoral Work”

Probably from the turbulent days of Judges 19-21, the story of Ruth focuses in like a laser on one small family during some global dramas including drought and famine, war and corrupt national leadership. By the end of it, a foreign woman, Ruth, becomes the hero and a key person in God’s story of His people Israel. Her great-grand-son became King David, “a man after God’s own heart”.
Ruth is a reminder that our story is not insignificant, even if we are just one person among six billion and counting. When our story is woven into God’s story, then our story takes on eternal significance. We understand that we are known and recognised by the Creator of the heavens and the earth.
We may not be known by our neighbour, or even our own family, or maybe we are known best by our local barista, newsagent or doctor – but for our story to be used by God for great things we do not know or understand is an honour we will not recognise until we are no longer part of the story of this life.
Ruth never knew her part in God’s kingdom while she was here in this life. David was anointed and then crowned many years after Ruth and Boaz (her husband) died.
When we try to make our lives significant or great in our own strength, we are entering risky territory. But when our being finds meaning in Christ Jesus, in His life now and the life to come, we find that it is no longer all on us to make it all happen. God works through us to do amazing things, and He even lets us see glimpses of these things if we have our eyes open.
Your story, the highs and lows, the awesome times and those dark times of brokenness and secrets, it’s all known to God who loves you and wants to walk with you through all of it. Your story fits into His story, and history will one day come to an end when Jesus returns to wrap all of our stories up and fulfil all of God’s promises.
Eugene Peterson looks at why Ruth was read during the Jewish festival of Pentecost, the offering of first-fruits amongst the Israelites (not the Christian occasion of Pentecost). The story is full of memory and promise, a poignant reminder for the people of God no matter if the harvest has been abundant, or meagre, God is always faithful.
Reference: Eugene Peterson “Five Smooth Stones for Pastoral Work”

Without going too deep, the ‘Songs of Songs’ is a beautiful love song, exploring the deep longing of a man and woman for one another. The songs of the others reveal how the love of the two is seen and known by those around them.
But these verses are deep and powerful, although Eugene Peterson came at this book in a very unexpected way – drawing parallels between prayer and sex. The common link is the level of intimacy in both.
Imagine a life of prayer that is like the desire expressed in the Song. Prayer filled with joy, that is intimate, prayer that expresses longing to be with our Lord forever.
The tragedy is that many people, let alone Christians, have read the Song of Songs, or if they have, looked for the metaphors and analogies that are clearly present, but missed the simple joy and desire of the work.
It is a beautifully crafted piece of literature because it does speak at numerous levels. It is erotic. It is about physical desire. It is a metaphor for the love of God for His chosen people. It is a story of love known, lost, found, imperiled and recovered.
Just like our daily lives. However messy, however far we have run, however self-obsessed we have become, the love of God has not faded or been taken away from you. We judge God’s love by the way we feel about God or about the Church or about Christians. Judgments based on feelings are notoriously inaccurate. God’s love is constantly focused upon us, ultimately expressed in Jesus Christ. His death was necessary to kill everything that causes us to be separated from God. His resurrection on Easter Sunday was the great victory of life over death, of love over evil.
We are able to enjoy intimate relationship with the living God because He has opened the way for us to do so, to be reconciled to Him. The Song of Songs is a wonderful expression of God’s desire for us to be in relationship with Him, and the open door of prayer that is available to us in this life, before the eternal intimacy of His love, light and life we will live in the resurrection life.
Finally, Eugene Peterson notes that the Song was read aloud during the Jewish Passover ceremony, probably as an antidote to the ritualism and potential religiosity of such an occasion. Imagine if the Song was read out on Resurrection Sunday, in contrast to the religiosity that threatens to obscure the joy of the day!

Reference: Eugene Peterson “Five Smooth Stones for Pastoral Work”