I Never Wanted to Talk About the Bridegroom of Blood, Anyway—Nor Even Rizpah
July 11, 2020
When I wrote the post about deciphering the bridegroom of blood, I didn’t know that those verses were on the program. Our meeting is Thursday. Often I don’t preview it till that morning, even though the Bible chapters themselves I read before.
Thus it might have seemed that I was making some snarky remark about whatever had been written—I had’t checked it out yet—or what someone had said. I wasn’t. I didn’t know what was there.
My post wasn’t really about Zipporah and Moses, anyway—that is but a side point. A person would never know it, because I wander all over before getting to the point, but the real point is that passages like this are very hard to explain to people, and that one effect of them existing is that they serve to separate persons conscious of their spiritual need from persons who are not. It is as though a forerunner of ‘separating the sheep from the goats.’
Ida Ho, who made a remarkable turnaround in her life upon becoming a Witness, had mentioned an apostate in her family who was impressed with the Dawkins book, The God Delusion, someone who “was inquisitive in all the wrong ways and too smart for his own boots.” These characters get separated out by such passages, and the others mentioned in the post, the one of God ‘making’ the blind one (Exodus 4:11) and the one of Jesus’ flesh and blood—true food and drink (John 6:55). The ones too “smart for their own boots“ (my wife says it is their pants they are too smart for) either are excited that they have a chance to prove themselves smarter than others by unraveling it—or by explaining what it tells us about some technical point that is not spiritual and doesn’t really matter, or they are put off by it being ‘ridiculous’ and ‘not worth their time’—and you almost wonder if it is deliberate of God’s part to trip them up this way—I think it is.
It’s far more interesting to me how people are separated out over such things—and it is roughly according to their heart. I used to illustrate it with a secular parallel: “When Trump tweets that North Korea has launched its nuclear missels, people of common sense will run for the hills. People of critical thinking will run to their keyboards to point out that the idiot can’t even spell the word right.“
Unfortunately the secular situation has grown so toxic that I can barely use that illustration anymore, though I love it. Trump has been under non-stop attack since he began, he has a sizable ego, a background unlike any politician, a crazy set of trials, and he has taken to acting so erratically that you don’t know if he is losing it or if he is deliberately goading his enemies—the list of which grows ever longer with each erratic tweet. I don’t even pretend to know what is going on anymore. Heckuva system for running a country, though.
Rizpah offers another example of how sometimes we try to sanitize verses, whereas I almost think it would be better to say, “Hoo, boy!” and move on. Instead, we almost act as though ones like her are like modern-day Witnesses just transposed to a different setting, with concerns intact about dress & grooming, and turning in our time.
With Rizpah, it’s a worse mess than with Zipporah:
“...the daughter of Saul whom she bore to Adriel the son of Barzillai the Meholathite. Then he handed them over to the Gibeonites, and they hung their dead bodies on the mountain before Jehovah. All seven of them died together; they were put to death in the first days of harvest, at the start of the barley harvest. Then Rizpah the daughter of Aiah took sackcloth and spread it out on the rock from the start of harvest until rain poured down from the heavens on the bodies; she did not allow the birds of the heavens to land on them by day nor the wild beasts of the field to come near by night.” (1 Samuel 21:8-10)
When this was in our CLAM program, the comment was that Rizpah’s great love for God was such that she would not allow the hung bodies to be devoured by the birds overnight because she had such high regard for his law—as though any other woman would have no problem letting the birds devour the remains of her sons. She probably went insane, is my take, and whether she had regard for the law or not hardly seems the point.
Now, it turns out that I amazed everyone by knowing all about Rizpah—an obscure character that no one else had ever heard of. The reason for this is that there is a book called Rizpah, by Charles E. Israel, that I read shortly after coming into the truth. The remarkable thing is that it made Rizpah, one of Saul’s concubines, the pivotal character and told everything though her eyes. And in her eyes, Saul was the hero, David the usurper, and “the scribes” had rewritten history to reverse what had really taken place.
All the events in Bible narrative were covered. What was remarkable is that it all made perfect sense as she told it—events could be seen from that point of view. I’ll have to read the book again to see if I still feel that way—it’s sitting on my shelf now—I just got it from eBay. But it was the first in a series of impressions—sometimes they have grown weaker and sometimes stronger—that things can be presented another way, and that we choose the way we look at them because we choose a view that leads somewhere—if you choose Rizpah’s view, all you are left with are endless beefs about how things “should” have been.
For me, this carries over as to how we view ‘apostates.’ Things can be seen from their point of view, but we choose ours because it leads somewhere. We avoid theirs because it doesn’t. Or rather it does, just like Rizpah’s views, but it leads to places we do not want to go because of heart. They do want to go where they go, again because of heart. Head has little to do with it—it is just employed to devise a convincing rationale for what the heart has already chosen.
Our choice: matters of life being decided by Jehovah’s standards. Their choice: “The way of Jehovah is not adjusted right,” and thus they choose man’s rule (we do, too, have the wisdom to direct our own step!—and even if we don’t, no one’s telling us what to do!) or they choose ‘Jehovah-lite’—(let’s not worry about us being a people for his name. Let’s redefine it as he being a God for our name). In either case, the head is charged to spin no end of arguments to “make it so,” as Picard would say.
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