Saturday, June 13, 2009
Break IN
Friday, June 12, 2009
The Lord of Hosts
Because for most readers today the phrases “the Lord of hosts” and “God of hosts” have little meaning, this version renders them “the Lord Almighty” and “God Almighty.” These renderings convey the sense of the Hebrew, namely, “he who is sovereign over all the ‘hosts’ (powers) in heaven and on earth, especially over the ‘hosts’ (armies) of Israel.”
No, they don’t. They don’t even come close. The Hebrew means “the God of angel armies,” “the God of the armies who fight for his people.” The God who is at war. Does “Lord Almighty” convey “the God who is at war”? Not to me, it doesn’t. Not to anyone I’ve asked. It sounds like “the God who is up there but still in charge.” Powerful, in control. The God of angel armies sounds like the one who would roll up his sleeves, take up sword and shield to break down gates of bronze, and cut through bars of iron to rescue me.
(Waking the Dead , 160)
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Warfare
Remember, when Jesus boiled his whole mission down to healing the brokenhearted and setting prisoners free from darkness, he was referring to all of us. Our modern, scientific, Enlightenment worldview has simply removed spiritual warfare as a practical category, and so it shouldn’t surprise us that we can’t see spiritual strongholds after we say they don’t really exist.
If you deny the battle raging against your heart, well, then, the thief just gets to steal and kill and destroy. Some friends of mine started a Christian school together a few years ago. It had been their shared dream for nearly all their adult lives. After years of praying and talking and dreaming, it finally happened. Then the assault came . . . but they would not see it as such. It was “hassles” and “misunderstanding” at first. As it grew worse, it became a rift between them. A mutual friend warned them of the warfare, urged them to fight it as such. “No,” they insisted, “this is about us. We just don’t see eye-to-eye.” I’m sorry to say their school shut its doors a few months ago, and the two aren’t speaking to each other. Because they refused to fight it for the warfare it was, they got taken out. I could tell you many, many stories like that.
There is no war is the subtle—but pervasive—lie sown by an Enemy so familiar to us we don’t even see him. For too long he has infiltrated the ranks of the church, and we haven’t even recognized him.
(Waking the Dead , 159–60)