Malachi's Opening

"A beginning," said the Princess Irulan Corrino in Frank Herbert's Dune, "is a very delicate time"; and it's a point never so valid as in the opening of a sermon. True?

"How long, O LORD, must I call for help, but you do not listen? Or cry out to you, 'Violence!' but you do not save?"
--Habakkuk 1:2

"Hear, O heavens! Listen, O earth! For the LORD has spoken: 'I reared children and brought them up, but they have rebelled against me.'"
--Isaiah 1:2

"In the past God spoke to our forefathers through the prophets at many times and in various ways, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, and through whom he made the universe."
--Hebrews 1:1-2

These are the kinds of openings that make you say, "Wow! Let's see what this guy has to say--it sounds good!"

Malachi has this kind of opening. Malachi's opening line is: "'I have loved you,' says the Lord." I don't know about you, but I already like the way this sermon is going. :)
Naturally, this provokes a response, and Malachi anticipates the reader's question: "Lord, how have You loved us?"

You might think this question impertinent on the surface, but think about it for a moment. It's great when I tell my wife that I love her, and it's definitely something I should do, from time to time. However, she being a girl, just my telling her that I love her isn't enough to convince her--I also have to prove it to her.
Girls are funny like that.
So I might say to my wife, "Wife, I love you. Here, I brought you flowers"; or, "Wife, you are dearest to my heart. See, I got you a new book"; or, more often, "Wife, love of my life, I love you madly. See, I've put away the dishes from the dishwasher."
These demonstrations are quantifiable things to which I can point, and say, "See here? I love you," and they're necessary in a relationship.
Would it be fair of God for Him to expect our relationship with Him to be any different? (You may notice the application of the same rule to our role in the relationship, but we'll leave that for now...) God doesn't think so, and He offers illustrations to prove it.

"Wasn't Esau Jacob's brother?" The male Jews in the room are all thinking, "... Older brother." "Yet," God says, "Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated."
This is pertinent (to us), remember, because we're Jacob's (spiritual) descendants, not Esau's, and therefore beneficiaries, of Jacob. Not of Esau. Jacob's estate is our inheritance.
So God says, "I loved Jacob, but I hated Esau. See? I cursed Esau. And now, even if Esau's heirs try to recover from My curse, I'll just knock them down again."
The obvious point the readers were getting, of course, was that God did not continue to oppress Jacob's heirs; in fact, they had rebuilt Jerusalem pretty nicely after the Chaldeans destroyed it, and they were living there now. The Edomites were not so blessed.
It's a roundabout way of saying it, but essentially, God is saying, "I do love you. I know I've let some bad things happen to you, but I've also given you the opportunity to rebuild. Take a look at your cousin Edom. He's not so lucky as you, because he doesn't have Me looking out for him."

Get this: Malachi begins his sermon with the God of Heaven proving His love for His people. Isn't that great? Doesn't that make you want to hear what else he has to say?

Wouldn't it be cool if I could live my life in such a way that when people saw me, they had proof of God's love, right in front of them? If they saw me and said, "Wow! Let's find out what else God has to say--with an opening like this, it must be good!"

One of my favorite verses in Ephesians is 2:10, where Paul says that God creates us in Jesus to do good works, which He created for us to do. God has plans for us, and it doesn't involve us sitting back and waiting for our riches in Heaven to accrue interest! Rather, it involves us doing good--doing good things that God tailor-made for us to do!

God intends to prove His goodness to people around me, through me. That is a high and noble calling, brothers and sisters, and it's one He'd love to give us. All He asks us to do is listen and obey.

The Curse of Shimei

II Sam. 16:5-14

This passage has always struck me. David is fleeing from his home, threatened and shamed by his own son. The Israelites, his people, have chosen to side with Absalom. He's just learned that Mephibosheth, whom he treated like a son, has gone to Jerusalem, hoping to claim David's kingdom as his own. David and his entourage are tired after a long day of walking and mourning.
If it were you and I, we'd be pushing our car into a small-town gas station after we'd lost our house and our dog had run away with the tax collector. It's the kind of day when you just have to say, "What else can happen today?"
Enter Shimei, relative of Saul. Shimei comes out of the town and starts throwing rocks at David and his men.
Most translations say he throws rocks at "David and his servants" or "David and his officials", and then go on to say that David's "troops" or "mighty men" were on his right and his left... I have to wonder if that's a distinction, because it seems to me that if Shimei had any sense, he would avoid pelting the armed soldiers with rocks... you never know when Abishai's spear was going to fly. I Chronicles says that Abishai once killed three hundred men with his spear, and this time he's itching to add Shimei to his list of kills. "Let me go over and cut off his head!"
Have you ever seen or read Shogun, by James Clavell? The miniseries had Richard Chamberlain as Pilot Blackthorne. Both were excellent. Anyway, there's this one scene where one of Governor Yabu's samurai chop off a peasant's head because he doesn't bow quickly enough. Blackthorne is appalled at the barbarism he perceives in it.
This is no such occasion! Not only is Shimei refusing to bow to the king, not only is he hurling insults at the king--oh, no; that might be cause for sending the Secret Service agents to arrest this man. But this guy is actually, literally, throwing rocks at the king of Israel.
Hey, I don't know about about you, but I'm totally with Abishai here. As if Absalom taking Jerusalem weren't enough for one day, now you expect us to put up with this? I don't think so! It's time for some chop-chop action here.

But David said, "What do you and I have in common, you sons of Zeruiah?" I find this a shocking response, considering Shimei's accusation that David is a bloodthirsty savage... (And for that matter, who in his right mind comes out of his city and calls the commander of an army a bloodthirsty pig, and then throws rocks at him? Shimei is just asking to get his head taken off.)

As an aside, if you recognize this turn of phrase in verse 10 from Jesus' conversation with his mother at the wedding in John 2:4, ("What have I to do with you, woman?") take 10 points now! Other than the plural here, the Septuagint translation of this Hebrewism is word-for-word identical to its construction in John. If you like to look at Greek, see here for the LXX and here for the book of John.

Do you think Shimei was expecting to get killed? If he was, he was in for a shock--but he shouldn't have been. Certainly you remember David's attitude in I Samuel 24, and again in chapter 26, when he stands inside the tent where King Saul is sleeping, as Saul is coming to hunt and kill him. Back then, David said, "The Lord Himself will strike him; either his time will come and he will die, or he will go into battle and perish. But the Lord forbid that I should lay a hand against the Lord's anointed!" Guess who was with David that time? :)
So it certainly didn't surprise David's sidekick Abishai when David told him, "Hey! Haven't we had this conversation before?" (Watch Abishai roll his eyes here.) "Who knows? Maybe God sent this guy here to throw rocks at me--He's certainly had it in for me so far today. And if God wants him to throw rocks at me, then I'm not going to be the one to stop him. Maybe God will pay attention and remember my contrition the next time He decides what kind of day to give me."
Can't you just see Abishai grumbling as he adjusts his helmet? "You're the boss, David, but if one little rock hits my head, that guy is toast."

Isn't David's attitude funny?
Isn't David's attitude right?

Who am I, after all, to strike back against ridicule and scorn? Jesus tells us that when someone strikes us on the cheek (pretty insulting, wouldn't you say? I'd be offended!), we should turn the other cheek and let them hit us there, too. It's not about whether they're right to insult us or whether we deserve to be insulted. Rather, Jesus is assuming that we didn't do a thing to provoke the insult.
Not only did David prevent Abishai from killing Shimei--he didn't even let his men stop Shimei from throwing rocks!
Abishai said, "Saul's trying to kill you, David, but God has given you the chance to live and to kill him first."
David said, "If God wants Saul dead, He'll take care of it--not me."
Abishai said, "Who does this man think he's insulting? Let me defend your honor and stop him."
David said, "Leave him alone. If anyone will vindicate me, it will be God."
Trust. David has trust in God, that God will do the right thing. He has such trust in God to do the right thing, that even when his friends tell him that God has given him the chance to do it himself, he declines.
In our wisdom, we call that foolishness. We tell jokes about people that don't take advantage of the opportunities that God sends them. We make up adages about how much God respects those that help themselves.

Seizing the day is fine. There's nothing wrong with making the most of a God-given opportunity, and being thankful for it. But we would also do well to remember the attitude of a man whom God respected as having the right kind of heart. David considered himself unworthy to take matters into his own hands, and he trusted that God would not fail him.
May we ever share in that same trust!