History & the Bible | Tactical Christianity

The Parable of the Tower and the King at War

by R. Herbert | Mar 1, 2015 | History & the Bible

“For which of you, desiring to build a tower, does not first sit down and count the cost, whether he has enough to complete it? Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it begin to mock him, saying, ‘This man began to build and was not able to finish.’ Or what king, going out to encounter another king in war, will not sit down first and deliberate whether he is able with ten thousand to meet him who comes against him with twenty thousand? And if not, while the other is yet a great way off, he sends a delegation and asks for terms of peace. So therefore, any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14:28-31)

In this parable with complementary halves, Jesus gave back-to-back examples of the potential problems resulting from a lack of planning. The first example, of building a tower without first counting the cost, is sometimes thought to be based on a failed building project in Jerusalem planned by Pontius Pilate – which may be possible if the allusion is not to building a watchtower on an estate or vineyard. The principle is straightforward, and the example expands upon the concept of building on a firm foundation given in the Parable of the Two Builders (Matthew 7:24-27). In that parable the focus is the nature of what we build upon, in this parable it is our spiritual preparation and dedication that is at issue, even if we have a proper basis for our faith.

In the second example Jesus gives, he does appear to make an allusion to a specific event of that time. Herod Antipater (c. 21 BC – AD 39), known by the nickname Antipas, was the first century ruler under the Romans of Galilee and Perea on the east side of the Jordan. Antipas divorced his first wife Phasaelis, the daughter of King Aretas IV of Nabatea, to marry his brother’s wife Herodias (as condemned by John the Baptist: Luke 3:18-20), and this divorce added further friction to a dispute with Aretas over territory on the border of Perea and Nabatea. According to the Jewish historian Josephus, Antipas declared war on Aretas without proper planning, and his army was routed by the larger forces of the other king. These contemporary events would have been clear in the minds of Jesus’ hearers and would have made the allusion to the king at war seem particularly real.

Many commentators explain the verbal pictures used in this parable as simply prompting us to count the cost before engaging in the struggle that the follower of Christ faces against the many forces that “war” against him or her: not only those of our own human nature, but also external physical and spiritual forces (Ephesians 6:12). But if that is the meaning, the allusion to asking for “terms of peace” when realizing one is outnumbered does not seem to make sense. Other commentators see the parable differently – that the king with a much stronger force represents God, with whom we should ally ourselves rather than becoming His enemy. In this case the terms of peace make better sense and perhaps tie better to the words that follow the parable on being willing to renounce everything that we have (as “terms of peace”), which was the point that Jesus was making as he gave these two small parables:

“If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple” (Luke 14:26-27).

The spiritual costs of building the “tower,” like the cost of engaging in “war,” Jesus tells us, are the costs of being willing to give up family, friends, possessions, position or anything else that might be necessary in order to succeed in what we set out to do – though, as biblical scholar Joachim Jeremias has written, this double parable is an “exhortation to self-examination” – are we willing to give up anything necessary – rather than to planned self-denial.

* From our FREE eBook, The City on a Hill: Lessons from the Parables of Jesus, available for download on our sister site here.

How Spies Are “Turned”

by R. Herbert | Jan 21, 2015 | History & the Bible, Warriors of the Way

The “Game” of espionage is not only a dangerous one, but it is also a highly complex contest played between the minds behind the pieces “on the board.” One of the greatest dangers of sending spies into enemy territory is that they might be “turned” to the other side. If that happens, then the spy trusted for reliable information actually becomes a source of mis-information and as such becomes a double agent serving the enemy.

The “turning” of spies is not always an obvious or entirely conscious thing, however. Sometimes spies are turned through subtle indirect influences which change the way they think. In some cases they may not even realize the degree to which their loyalty has been compromised. When Moses sent twelve spies into the land of Canaan to check out conditions there before Israel invaded the Promised Land, he sent twelve men who were hand-picked leaders from the twelve tribes (Numbers 13:1-2). We do not know much about these men, and only know the age of one of them – Caleb – who was 40 when dispatched on his mission (Joshua 14:7), but we might presume that was about average for established leaders in the tribes; but in any case, they were leaders and not young recruits. That fact makes it all the more surprising that we are told when the spies returned they had clearly been turned.

This is essentially what they reported to Moses: “We went to the land where you sent us. It really is a land flowing with milk and honey. Here is some of its fruit. But the people who live there are strong, and the cities have walls and are very large … We can’t attack those people! They’re too strong for us!” (Numbers 13:27-33 paraphrased).

So the spies began to spread lies among the Israelites about the land they had explored. Only two of them – Joshua and Caleb – gave a balanced report showing that the land could be taken (Numbers 13:30, 14:30), so an incredible 10 out of 12 spies had obviously been compromised and became, in essence, assets of the enemy. There is no indication that any of the spies had been directly subverted by the Canaanites, however. They had simply been influenced by sights and impressions and perhaps by other influences that they were unaware of (Ephesians 6:12) to such a degree that they were turned.

Usually, this story is viewed from the perspective that the majority of the spies looked at what they saw and lacked faith regarding the help of God in overcoming the enemy – that they walked by sight and not by faith. But there is another and equally valid point to the story that we should remember. Every time we put ourselves in a situation where we are being influenced negatively, we risk being deeply affected to our own detriment. We risk being turned. That is why God commanded Israel to drive the Canaanites out of the land, because of the danger that Israel would be affected by their influence (Leviticus 18:29-30, etc.). Unfortunately, many Israelites were influenced and they, like the majority of the spies, were completely turned.

This is where the story connects to us. Is there anything in our lives that is a constant influence for what is not right? If there is, we should be careful not to presume that we are strong enough or “mature” enough to handle it – or think that we are unlikely to be turned by it. The experiences of the twelve spies, and of the whole nation of ancient Israel, show that the odds are against us. Being careful to analyze the influences in our lives and turning from ones that are not good can help us to avoid being “turned.”

Josiah – When Good People Take Risks

by R. Herbert | Dec 14, 2014 | History & the Bible

Fifth in Our Lessons from the Kings Series

Josiah was undoubtedly one of ancient Judah’s best rulers. This king ruled for thirty-one years (c. 640-609 BC), accomplishing great good during his reign. Yet his death is puzzling and provides a sobering lesson to anyone who reads the story.

Perhaps under the influence of Jeremiah, in his eighteenth year Josiah began a great reformation of the faith of Judah. He first repaired the Temple of Solomon and renewed the ancient covenant with God (2 Kings 23). The king then began to cleanse Judah of idolatry. The temple was purged and idolatrous “high places” were destroyed throughout Judah and even beyond. Josiah clearly returned to the one God and humbly led his people to return also. But something went horribly amiss. Josiah did not die in peace, as we might expect, but as a result of a foolish gamble.

To understand Josiah’s sad demise we need to understand the basics of international relations in his day. When Josiah ascended the throne the ancient Near East was in political flux. That world’s established “superpower,” the Assyrian Empire, was disintegrating and the Neo-Babylonian Empire was rising to replace it. Egypt, another key power player under the strong pharaoh Necho II, led an army north to fight the Babylonians.

This is where Josiah enters the picture. Necho requested permission to pass through Judah on the main road to Syria in order to fight the Babylonians, but, ironically – considering Judah’s soon-coming downfall at the hands of the Babylonians – Josiah refused. According to II Chronicles 35:20-21 Necho then sent messengers to Josiah saying, “ … I am not coming against you today but against the house with which I am at war, and God has ordered me to hurry. Stop for your own sake from interfering with God who is with me, so that He will not destroy you.” This message is amazing not only in that Necho pleaded with the relatively minor king Josiah not to interfere, but also claimed that God Himself instructed him to do what he was doing.

Was this just a detail of cleverly contrived psychological warfare, or was Necho really marching under the influence of God who raises kingdoms and diminishes them (Daniel 2:21)? The biblical account appears to indicate the latter as Chronicles tells us that “Josiah … would not listen to what Necho had said at God’s command but went to fight him on the plain of Megiddo” (2 Chronicles 35:22, emphasis added). The results of this battle were disastrous for the Judean king. Archers shot Josiah, and he was taken back to Jerusalem, where he died (vs. 23).

Josiah’s taking a huge chance with his life at Megiddo not only led to his own death, but also to the loss of Judean independence. So what happened to this good king of Judah? Proverbs 26:17 gives the principle of not meddling in a matter that does not concern us, and Josiah may have paid the price for not knowing or heeding that principle. Josiah certainly took a huge chance with his own life – and lost. There is no doubt that God sometimes mercifully protects those who love Him from the results of foolish decisions and actions, but He does not guarantee that He will do this in any or every circumstance, and the principle of not “tempting” God by taking unnecessary risks (Deuteronomy 6:16) certainly applies here. We can jeopardize our success, our happiness, and even our lives through taking foolish chances – despite our relationship with God.

The great lesson we can all learn from Josiah’s demise is don’t run the stop lights of life – physical or spiritual.

It’s How We End Up that Counts: Manasseh

by R. Herbert | Oct 12, 2014 | History & the Bible

Third in the “Lessons from the Kings” Series

According to the biblical record, many of the rulers of ancient Judah and Israel were exceedingly bad. If we ask “How bad did they get?” the answer might well be “Manasseh.” Manasseh was certainly one of Judah’s worst rulers, yet the end of his story is a surprising and inspiring one.

Manasseh was the son of the good king Hezekiah with whom he seems to have co-ruled in the last years of his father’s life. He became sole king around 687 BC and reigned for a total of 55 years (2 Kings 21:1; 2 Chronicles 33:1). His reign was soon after the conquering of the northern tribes by Assyria in 720 BC, and during his time Judah itself was constantly under the shadow of possible Assyrian invasion.

Despite the good influence of his father, Manasseh annulled the religious reforms made by Hezekiah and re-instituted the worship of pagan gods and idols. 2 Kings 21 outlines the extent of his apostasy, telling us that “He did evil in the eyes of the Lord, following the detestable practices of the nations the Lord had driven out before the Israelites. He rebuilt the high places his father Hezekiah had destroyed; he also erected altars to Baal … He bowed down to all the starry hosts and worshiped them … In the two courts of the temple of the Lord, he built altars to all the starry hosts” (2 Kings 21:2-5).

As if introducing pagan idols and altars into the temple of God were not bad enough, we are told: “He sacrificed his own son in the fire, practiced divination, sought omens, and consulted mediums and spiritists” (2 Kings 20:6). The Book of Kings also suggests he may have executed prophets of God and supporters of his father’s reforms, for much “innocent blood” was shed by him in Jerusalem (2 Kings 21:16 and see Jeremiah 15:4).

Yet we are given some fascinating further information in the Book of Chronicles which tells us, not surprisingly, that the anger of God was roused against Manasseh and that God caused the king to be led away in chains by the King of Assyria. Only then did Manasseh apparently realize his folly: “In his distress he sought the favor of the Lord his God and humbled himself greatly before the God of his ancestors. And when he prayed to him, the Lord was moved by his entreaty and listened to his plea; so he brought him back to Jerusalem and to his kingdom. Then Manasseh knew that the Lord is God” (2 Chronicles 33:11-13). After his return to Jerusalem, Manasseh cleansed the temple, did away with idols, and re-instituted the worship of God (2 Chronicles 33:14-16). Despite his earlier evil, Manasseh turned his life around, and his story gives us a flesh and blood example of what the prophet Ezekiel tells us:

“… if a wicked man turns from all his sins which he has committed, keeps all My statutes, and does what is lawful and right … None of the transgressions which he has committed shall be remembered against him…” (Ezekiel 18:21-23).

In these words Ezekiel paints a clear picture of how, if we turn our lives around, what matters is how we end up – a fact by which the repentant Manasseh, formerly one of Judah’s most reprehensible kings, was greatly blessed.

Asa – A Tale of Fortresses and Faith

by R. Herbert | Sep 21, 2014 | Faith, History & the Bible

*Note: We began this occasional series “Lessons from the Kings” on our sister site – LivingWithFaith.org – but we realized that many of the themes and details of the series fit better here, so we have transferred the series and will now be carrying the monthly installments here.

King Asa of Judah was the great-grandson of Solomon and ruled only two generations after the split between the tribes of Judah and the rest of Israel. The son of king Abijah, who appears to have trusted in the true God (2 Chronicles 13:18), Asa ruled Judah for 41 years and seems to have been upright in his acts for most of that time.

He was clearly zealous in maintaining the worship of God and acted decisively to root out idolatry and its associated immorality, destroying the pagan altars and sacred places throughout the kingdom. The king even deposed his own grandmother for worship of pagan gods and turned the people back to the traditional worship of God. Asa, we are told, did what was good and right in the eyes of the Lord his God (2 Chronicles 14:2).

Asa also fortified cities in Judah and successfully repelled an invasion by a hugely outnumbering Cushite-Egyptian force with a demonstration of clear faith. The biblical record tells us: “Then Asa called to the Lord his God and said, ‘Lord, there is no one like you to help the powerless against the mighty. Help us, Lord our God, for we rely on you, and in your name we have come against this vast army. Lord, you are our God; do not let mere mortals prevail against you’”(2 Chronicles 14:11). Chronicles continues to detail how Asa’s forces routed the much larger army and drove it from Judah. As a result, the kingdom had peace under Asa and for many years no one tried to make war against him.

But in his 36th year of rule Asa was confronted by Baasha, king of the northern tribes, who constructed a fortress at Ramah, less than ten miles from Jerusalem. While Asa had responded in faith to the Cushite threat, he appears to have crumbled under this one. Taking all the gold from the temple of God he offered it to Ben-Hadad, king of Damascus, as a bribe to convince that king to negate his treaty with Baasha and to invade the Northern Kingdom (2 Chronicles 16:2-6). Ben-Hadad took the gold and invaded his erstwhile ally, Israel, forcing Baasha to withdraw from Ramah.

Asa then tore down Baasha’s stronghold and used the stone to build two fortresses in his own territory. History shows these two fortified areas were not successful in protecting Judah from attacks that would occur in the future, so ultimately Asa traded the gold taken from the temple for a false security. In that sense, Asa’s two fortresses are clearly symbols of a failure of faith (2 Chronicles 16:7-9).

Considering his earlier faith under sudden, more intense pressure, we can only conclude that Asa fell under a more prolonged and unrelenting stress as Baasha began to build his forces on Judah’s border. It seems Asa discovered that wars of attrition can erode our confidence more than sudden danger. Doubtless there is a lesson for us in this. It is often easier to respond in faith to a sudden crisis, but more difficult when the problem drags on and wears us down. In those circumstances we must be careful not to allow the problem to become an excuse for taking from God what is rightfully His – perhaps not in gold, but in our time and energy as well as our trust and confidence in Him.

Perhaps as a result of the attrition of his faith, it is recorded that in his old age Asa was afflicted with a disease of his feet, and he “sought not to the Lord, but to the physicians” (2 Chronicles 16:12), meaning his trust was only toward the physical. Nevertheless, Asa was considered for the most part a good king and was honored by many of his people when he died. The story of Asa’s responses to different threats may also serve as a lasting lesson for us – especially in our response to protracted stresses and problems. Sometimes the greatest need for faith is not in sudden crises, but in the ongoing problems of everyday life.

New Series! – Lessons from the Kings

by R. Herbert | Sep 21, 2014 | History & the Bible

*Note: We began this occasional series on our sister site – LivingWithFaith.org – but looking ahead we realized that many of the themes and details of the series will fit better on this site. As a result we have transferred the first posts and will now be running the monthly installments here. Enjoy!

The biblical books of Samuel, Kings, and Chronicles tell the remarkable story of the kings of ancient Israel – the united monarchy of Saul, David and Solomon, and the thirty-nine kings (and one queen) of Judah and Israel who followed them after the kingdom broke into two parts: the Southern Kingdom (the tribes of Judah and Benjamin, usually called Judah) and the Northern Kingdom (most of the remaining tribes, called Israel).

Reading the story of these kings helps one realize what a checkered pattern of righteousness and evil the history of ancient Judah and Israel was. Actually, the checkered effect is mainly visible for Judah because the kings of the northern tribes of Israel were pretty much unfailingly corrupt according to their biblical obituaries. But when we look at ancient Judah, the mixed good/bad pattern is very clear. Even beginning with the kings of the briefly united monarchy, we see the problem: King Saul started out good and ended up bad, his successor, David, started out good and despite some unfortunate lapses into sin ended up good. Solomon started out good, but despite his wisdom ended up swayed by evil.

It’s when we then look at the successors of Solomon – the kings of Judah – that the situation gets almost bizarre. Of the 20 rulers of Judah, we are told that over half of them (10 kings and Queen Athaliah) started out evil and stayed that way. Only a quarter of all the kings (Asa, Jehoshaphat, Jotham, Hezekiah and Josiah) started their reigns on the right track and apparently ended up as good. Three kings (Joash, Amaziah and Uzziah) actually started out well, but ended up evil. Only one king – Manasseh, the son of Hezekiah – started out evil and actually ended up well.

Looking at this checkered panorama of obedience and apostasy, we can only wonder at the patience of God in giving ancient Judah and Israel hundreds of years – over 40 rulers – to “get it right.” Eventually, however, the rulers of the kingdoms did only evil and God brought on them the judgment of which they were repeatedly warned. But the story of the kings of ancient Judah and Israel is a fascinating tapestry full of details which illuminate both human nature and the desire to obey God. Our new monthly series – starting this week – examines the ancient kings and focuses on the many and often important lessons we can learn from them!

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