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Rediscovering the Book: A Woman Shall Lead
Them
A sermon by Dr.
Scott Spencer
First Baptist Church, Richmond, Virginia
Sunday, April 15, 2007
2 Kings 22:8-20
Today we begin a four-part series on “People of
the Book.”
A recent cover of Time
magazine featured the familiar yellow and black logo of CliffsNotes. You
all know about CliffsNotes, I’m sure—though of course never used them
(you plowed through every last word of all 864 pages of Moby Dick). But
you know some poor souls who did resort to such “helps” in the course of their
education. CliffsNotes advertises over 300 titles and 100 million
sold—somebody’s been buying them.
The particular title displayed on Time
surprised me at first—CliffsNotes on THE BIBLE. But on reflection, it
made more sense. As a Bible professor, I often lament how, for all our Bible
thumping, much of our biblical knowledge sadly hovers at the abridgement level.
No self-respecting Christian would be caught dead carrying the CliffNotes
version of the Bible to church—but I worry that, for some, that’s about all they
carry in the minds.
If that’s true in
the church—how much more in the larger society—which was Time’s
main focus—“Why We Should Teach the Bible in Public School.” Now there’s a
thorny political issue for you—recognized in the telling subtitle—But very,
very carefully.” Yes indeed.
Now my present
interest is not in public school curriculum. It’s in Christian education within
the church—where there is strong consensus that the Bible should be
taught—but I would argue still—“very, very carefully.” The Bible is
among God’s most precious gifts to us—a source of abundant comfort, inspiration,
and power—a remarkable force for good. But sadly, it can be used—mis-used,
I should say—for horrible evil—ethnic cleansings, terrorist reprisals, holy wars
supposedly in the name of God revealed in the Bible. The history of all three
great religions of “the book”—Judaism, Islam AND Christianity—bear bitter
testimony to such misuse from time to time.
We are “People of
the Book”—proudly, blessedly—but also I would hope—intelligently, sensitively.
To this end, we begin our series today—looking to people in the Book who
encounter portions of the Book in its formative stages. Going back to roots,
foundations, is a good place to start.
This morning we go
back to one who merits the title of the first official authorizer and
interpreter of holy writ—the Book as sacred scripture. It might surprise
you. It’s a woman of God—the prophet Huldah. Her story is in 2 Kings
22:8-20.
I was rummaging
through our cluttered attic recently and discovered a bag that contained my
diplomas and ordination certificate. I thought it might be nice to finally put
these on a wall somewhere. I hadn’t looked at them in years, but my eye
particularly fell on a couple of items from my Southwestern Seminary diploma.
One was the
date—July 13, 1979—28 years ago. How did that happen? How did I get that old?
My-not-so strong back suddenly felt even tighter and stiffer.
A second thing I
noticed were the signatures at the bottom—which happened to include Russell
Dilday, President of the Seminary, and Jesse Northcutt, Vice-President for
Academic Affairs—giants in Texas Baptist life, with more than a little
connection to this church. Nothing like intimidation.
This led to some
wider reflection. What had I done as a seminary-trained minister in the past
three decades? How had I measured up to Dilday, Northcutt and the seminary’s
faith in me? I had certainly taken advantage of “the honors and privileges
appertaining thereto”—like certain tax breaks. But how had I handled the duties
and responsibilities of my vocation and training? Mmm . . . not always so
well. Some painful memories flooded in—bonehead decisions, awful sermons,
character failings. A few good things, too, but for a moment the mistakes
dominated my thinking.
Discovering old
documents can be exciting but also painful, challenging, disorienting. That’s
what happened in ancient Judah during the reign of King Josiah in 621 B.C. A
famous document was discovered—rediscovered, actually—that caused quite a stir
in the palace and throughout the country.
Josiah had begun a
temple renovation project—and good thing he did. The Jerusalem temple was badly
in need of overhauling. His predecessors—grandfather Manasseh and father
Amon—had constructed altars to other gods in the Lord’s house and brought in all
sorts of defiling paraphernalia. But Josiah aimed to chart a different
course—so he raised money and employed a crack crew of contractors, carpenters,
masons, and other workers to restore the temple.
But he got more than
he bargained for out of this project. When it was time to purchase materials,
the king sent his secretary, Shaphan, to get funds from the treasury chest in
the temple where the people had contributed their offerings. But Shaphan
returned with something more valuable than money. While in the temple, he had
run into the high priest Hilkiah who had found something tucked away amid all
the temple clutter that clearly had not been used for a while.
It was an old
scroll—Shaphan could tell that much—worn and tattered, encrusted with years of
dust and grime—but still readable. And Hilkiah had read enough to know what it
was and solemnly announced to Shaphan: “I have found the book of the law in the
house of the Lord.”
There’s something
tragically ironic in that statement: finding God’s instruction book (the Torah)
in God’s house should not have been a notable discovery; it should have been a
given. It’s like saying—“I found a textbook in a university bookstore.” “I
found a hymn book in a music library . . . a magazine in a doctor’s waiting
room.” Really . . . imagine that!
I found God’s
book in God’s house—good for you, Hilkiah, but why in the world did you have to
find it? Where had it gone? Why is it covered with dust? What’s wrong with
this picture?
What’s wrong
goes back goes back to those prior reigns of Josiah’s ancestors—grandfather
Manasseh in particular. He ruled fifty-five years—all of them badly.
Sometimes the wicked prosper a long time. Throughout his tenure Manasseh had no
use for outmoded law scrolls. HIS law was all that mattered. It’s a wonder he
didn’t burn the Torah scroll. But it was pushed to the side, buried among a
bunch of other use-less “junk.”
. . . until
Hilkiah found it! That’s a step in the right direction. But the real issue
becomes: What are we going to do with it now? Secretary Shaphan knows this is
important enough to take to the king. So he takes this “rediscovered” book of
God’s law—which most scholars think was some version of Deuteronomy—and reads it
aloud to Josiah.
The king’s
reaction is immediate and dramatic. Far from dismissing and tearing up the
scroll, Josiah tears his clothes when he hears the book’s solemn words.
An odd gesture to us—but a clarion signal in the ancient world of remorse and
distress. Something’s terribly wrong here. It’s like the very fabric of
Josiah’s kingdom is being ripped apart, by this “sword” of God’s word. Josiah
knew that his people needed moral and spiritual renewal—that’s why he was
restoring the temple—but he didn’t know it was this bad.
God’s book
graciously reveals God’s will—but at the same time tragically reveals that God’s
people are miles away from what God wants. At least that’s what Josiah picks up
from this reading. But he’s not a religious expert—so he’s not entirely sure
he’s got the full message here. He’s troubled and confused—and needs help in
sorting this out. And to his credit, he admits he doesn’t have all the answers
and dispatches his advisors to find an authoritative interpreter.
Suddenly we’ve got this mysterious and ominous book
on our hands begging for understanding—So . . . who are you going to call?
Well, Hilkiah the high priest, Shaphan the secretary of state, and three other
guys—a quintet of the king’s leading men —set out to find the top interpreter in
the land. This matter’s too serious to entrust to anyone less.
They know
know just where to go: the Second Quarter district on the western hill of
Jerusalem to the house of Shallum son of Tikvah, son of Harhas. Only it’s not
Shallum they want. It’s his wife—Huldah. Now they might need Shallum as
well—his job was “keeper of the wardrobe”—and with all the clothes-tearing the
king was doing a good tailor might come in handy. But that was secondary. What
they most needed was a prophet of God, the Lord’s spokesperson, to explain what
this newly-discovered scroll from God meant for God’s people at this time.
And Huldah
was more than up to the task, declaiming with full authority—“Thus says the
Lord, the God of Israel . . .” That’s what true prophets, like Huldah, do—they
dare to speak for God.
Have you ever
heard of Huldah before today? I confess that, as far as I remember, with all my
biblical training from cradle roll to graduate school, Huldah never came up. I
knew about King Josiah, but not Huldah. One scholar writing on this story
laments that the major Old Testament seminary text of his generation—and mine
(it’s the one I had)—this venerable, hefty tome of several hundred
pages—discusses Josiah at length and the significance of his “discovery” of the
book of the law—but nary a word about Huldah.
Even if you’d
known about Huldah, my guess is she would not have made your top 10 list of
biblical prophets. I mean, c’mon—there’s Elijah, Elisha, Isaiah, Ezekiel,
Jeremiah—those are the biggies—towering prophetic men of God. Well yes . . .
but take that last example, Jeremiah. Do you know when and where he did his
prophetic work?—he started “in the days of King Josiah of Judah, in the
thirteenth year of his reign” (Jer 1:1). Two lesser-known “minor”
prophets—though still with biblical books named after them—Nahum and
Zephaniah—also prophesied around the same period.
So why didn’t
Josiah’s five top male officials seek out one of these available male prophets?
Why go to Huldah with such a dire matter of national security when you’ve got
Jeremiah, Nahum, and Zephaniah in town?
That’s not a
question that’s only been raised in our more gender-sensitive age. It’s bugged
interpreters for centuries.
Before
discussing one “answer” that’s floated around, we should observe that, for all
our questions and concerns, the narrative doesn’t give the matter a
second thought. It’s just not an issue. The five officials don’t wring their
hands and agonize—oh my, what will the king think if we bring him a “woman’s
point of view”? And the king wastes not a moment wondering if he should submit
to a woman’s word about God’s will.
It’s as
matter-of-fact as it could possibly be. Who’re you gonna call?—Huldah, of
course, she’s the best person for the job: she’s educated (literacy was not
widespread in the ancient world); she’s respected, she’s perceptive, she’s
plugged in to God’s thinking. It’s got to be Huldah. The fact that she’s a
woman—so what? Miriam (Moses’ sister) was a prophet; so was Deborah in the
period the judges. God’s had no problem speaking through a woman. Why should
we? What’s to discuss?
So they
didn’t discuss it . . . But new eras raise new questions—and among those who’ve
actually cared to notice Huldah in the Bible, there has been considerable
speculation about why she was chosen here.
One
interesting suggestion that has surfaced is that Josiah was hoping for a
kinder, gentler interpretation of the book. He knew the nation was courting
God’s judgment by disregarding God’s law; he was willing to promote reforms but
wanted assurance that everything would be OK. Prophets could be such doom and
gloomers, you know, and we need to stay positive and upbeat here while we set
things right. We don’t want to panic: surely Huldah will bring a softer, calmer
“woman’s touch” to her interpretation.
Well . . .what do we make of that explanation?
Again, I must say there’s really no hint of that in the text. Josiah’s not
trying to rig some positive message for public relations. You might get your
cronies to do that, to be your Yes-Men. But you don’t mess with true prophets.
They’re going to give you the truth—good, bad, whatever God’s assessment of the
situation is. And that’s what Josiah wants—the truth.
But still, as
a woman, isn’t Huldah more likely than Jeremiah, say (who could be such a
downer) to share the truth in love—and if it’s bad news—to make the medicine go
down with a spoonful of sugar? I don’t know . . . that sounds more like Mary
Poppins, and I’m not sure Huldah was the Mary Poppins type. Still, in my
limited experience—and that’s all it is—I do not presume to speak for or about
“all women”—but by and large women have struck me as more nurturing, more
considerate, more open than men. And I have this inkling if more women were in
places of leadership in all our institutions—church included—that we would have
a more compassionate society.
But with
women (and men for that matter) we must not confuse compassion with
weak-mindedness or love with lack of discipline. As God integrates love and
justice, mercy and judgment, so should we—women and men—created in God’s image.
Sometimes the
situation calls primarily for judgment. And that’s the case here. If anyone
expected Huldah to sugarcoat her message, it didn’t work out that way. She lays
it hard on the line. She’s got good news and bad news, but mostly bad.
“Thus says the Lord—I will indeed bring disaster on
this place and on its inhabitants . . . because [my people] have abandoned me”
and spurned my instruction, my Torah. Sometimes you dig a hole so deep you
can’t climb out. Josiah’s been trying—and will keep trying—but it’s just too
much. Within two decades Babylon will steamroll into Jerusalem, flatten the
city and its temple, and fill in the hole with thousands of dead Judeans.
Huldah’s only good news, if you want to call it that, is that Josiah won’t live
long enough to witness the devastation.
Well, that’s
a cheery way to begin this series and end this sermon. But wait just another
moment. I’m not quite through—and God certainly wasn’t through with God’s
people. Yes, Huldah’s prophecy came true. The people of Judah got slammed hard
for abandoning God. The few that survived were deported to Babylon.
BUT how
is it that we are able to read this story some 2700 years later? It’s
because God cannot let God’s people go, no matter how far they drift away:
eventually the exiles return home, God’s temple is rebuilt, and God’s word is
preserved and expanded. However long it might be neglected, God’s word cannot
be voided. It will accomplish God’s purposes. And it is always waiting to be
re-discovered, discovered anew in every generation.
May we find
God’s word afresh in our lives today—dust it off, break it open, read it with
eager eyes and open hearts to whatever God is saying to us—through whomever
God chooses to say it. Amen.
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