Vanquished Vashti

So, the well oiled Persian advisors came up with a plan. Their fear was that: “As goes the Queen so goes the harem.” They couldn’t countenance a situation where the male folk had any restraints upon their natural instincts. And those instincts included a snapping of the finger and having an obedient, deferential lassie appear on command. In their minds Queen Vashti’s refusal was a scandal. They came up with a plan: “Therefore, if it pleases the king, let him issue a royal decree and let it be written in the laws of Persia and Media, which cannot be repealed, that Vashti is never again to enter the presence of King Xerxes. Also let the king give her royal position to someone else who is better than she. Then when the king’s edict is proclaimed throughout all his vast realm, all the women will respect their husbands, from the least to the greatest.” The king and his nobles were pleased with this advice, so the king did as Memukan proposed. He sent dispatches to all parts of the kingdom, to each province in its own script and to each people in their own language, proclaiming that every man should be ruler over his own household, using his native tongue. ~Esther 1:19-22  

Good old Memukan, whose name means: “dignified”, brought forth the proposal. Whether his character matched up with his name is not given to us. What we do know is that he was savvy enough to side with the King in his anger. Convinced that the King was truly offended and full of wrath over this minor domestic dispute, he put the pedal down and belched out a universal edict for all households everywhere.
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It was a calculated risk. Kings were rather summary in those days. Their minds could change in an instant. But this was a clear case of wounded Kingly pride. After six months of peacock-strutting the King had scripted a grand finale – the presentation of his trophy wife. No one would doubt his virility and his affluence when they got a gander of Vashti. She would make every man and woman in the room feel inadequate and that was the point. But, she was a no show. She said, “Nah.”  The entire pageant of strength and wealth would be seen as a charade. Xerxes might well rule a country but his wife was the one who wore the royal pantaloons. Knowing all of this, Memukan proposed an edict that would sow marital discord in the four directions. Persian homes would now be filled with “mini-me” kings bossing their ladies around.

What’s interesting is that no one asked the Queen why she refused to come. There could have been a thousand good reasons. Perhaps she was having a really bad hair day? Maybe she didn’t feel well? She might have been skunk-faced drunk? Who knows? But her refusal to appear set in motion a series of events that would lead an adopted daughter of Israel to a place of influence that would shake the power of structure of the Persian empire. Vashti’s “No” was God’s “Yes”.

The Intractable Queen 

There’s a whole lot of excitement these days related to the objectification of women. The light has been trained toward powerful men behaving badly. The fact that we live in a mostly free society has allowed these controlling, out of control chaps to be revealed. As with any cultural shift there will likely be a few innocent victims, but for the most part, many guilty lads have been exposed for their exposing.

Persian Kings were, to say the least, unfamiliar with such modern sentiments. To be challenged on misogyny would be met with either a blank stare or the sharp end of a sword. That Persian spirit has remained to this day.

Additional chiropractic care best levitra prices may include spinal manipulations, physiotherapies, and rehabilitative exercises. The selling of generic drugs like viagra online consultation on the internet has resulted to the establishment of many small backyard operations in developing countries, operating with low overhead and labor costs and no regulatory oversight. Activity: Principle segment of Penegra 100mg is the reliable treatment working exceptional as the super passionate alternative to pfizer viagra cheap downtownsault.org Sildenafil Citrate. Peck and all that she has taught on the way to developing a pharmacy viagra 3rd degree black belt and a junior instructor following the guidelines of Taekwondo America. Xerxes was a Persian King and a successful one at that. His territory was vast and we last found him rewarding his loyal underlings with a 180 day party. Lesser kingdoms might allow a random holiday here and yon. Xerxes gave them six months of revelry. What was there not to love about that?

As the merriment was beginning to wind down with a final seven days of unrestrained debauchery, Xerxes decided it was time to show off the Queen – his most prized possession. There is nothing to make a King snort and stamp his hooves like showing off a well manicured and gorgeous queen. It would speak well not only of his power but of his own manly manliness. But there was one problem – this particular Queen had a mind of her own: On the seventh day, when King Xerxes was in high spirits from wine, he commanded the seven eunuchs who served him—Mehuman, Biztha, Harbona,Bigtha, Abagtha, Zethar and Karkas – to bring before him Queen Vashti, wearing her royal crown, in order to display her beauty to the people and nobles, for she was lovely to look at. But when the attendants delivered the king’s command, Queen Vashti refused to come. Then the king became furious and burned with anger. ~Esther 1:10-12 

Having read the latest issue of Persian Cosmopolitan, Queen Vashti was exploring her “me too” moment. The King was not amused. He called all of his advisors together – the lads who had been on a very long bender – and asked what should be done. Their response was pure Persian: …the queen’s conduct will become known to all the women, and so they will despise their husbands and say, ‘King Xerxes commanded Queen Vashti to be brought before him, but she would not come.’ This very day the Persian and Median women of the nobility who have heard about the queen’s conduct will respond to all the king’s nobles in the same way. There will be no end of disrespect and discord. ~Esther 1:17,18 The advisors sensed a women’s movement afoot. They feared contagion. They clanked goblets and came up with a plan…

An Epic Bender

There is an interesting, somewhat overlooked book in the Old Testament that is worthy of the big screen. (It’s actually been tried but the attempts were anemic). This biblical book is unique in that there is no mention of God. It is also unique in that it shares yet another compelling story of adoption. I mentioned that it is somewhat overlooked, but that’s not quite true. The Jewish faith names one of its many annual observances after the events that take place within this book. The observance is called the Feast of Purim, or the Feast of Esther. Rather than being an official, God-ordained feast, it arose as sort of a spontaneous celebration similar to our Thanksgiving. A fellow by the name of Mordecai came up with it. But I’m getting ahead of myself. There is first a story to tell that will eventually bring us to the feast. It’s a story of an adoption that turned out well.

The story is set in ancient Persia. That in itself is significant because the Persian race has sustained itself down to our day. In fact, they’re in the news quite a lot. The greatest concentration of these latter day Persians live in Iran. Those ancient Persians didn’t like the cut of the Jewish jib anymore than their descendants. As it turns out, the tiresome shibboleth: “Death to the Jews” is old news.

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Let’s have a look at the story. It begins with a complete blow-out of a party hosted by King Xerxes. He ruled a kingdom that spanned from India all the way to the Mediterranean and to the Black Sea and even into Egypt. Nearly every Middle Eastern country that we read about today was part of the 127 provinces ruled by Xerxes. The King lived in Susa, which is still around and goes today by the name, Shush.  Back in the day it was a place of splendor and King Xerxes wanted to strut his stuff. He invited all the right people – the rulers of the various provinces, the military brass, and a lot of lovely ladies. A couple of verses will suffice to get a feel for this party of the century: For a full 180 days he displayed the vast wealth of his kingdom and the splendor and glory of his majesty… By the king’s command each guest was allowed to drink with no restrictions, for the king instructed all the wine stewards to serve each man what he wished. Esther 1:4,8By any standard, that was an epic bender.

One of subjugated people groups that didn’t make the guest list were the Jews. And amongst that oppressed class was an orphan – a young girl who had lost her parents. By God’s good grace she had a kindly cousin who took her in. The Scriptures give us this: Mordecai had a cousin named Hadassah, whom he had brought up because she had neither father nor mother. This young woman, who was also known as Esther, had a lovely figure and was beautiful. Mordecai had taken her as his own daughter when her father and mother died. ~Esther 2:7

It will take us a few days to back-fill the story and as usual, I’m in no particular hurry. There are some larger than life protagonists and antagonists to meet. We’ll soon see that the story of Esther is the story of us.

The Fridge Art of Heaven

A couple of months ago we awoke to the unmistakable odor of a deceased refrigerator. It seems that once these faithful coolers and crispers of our bodily necessities decides to call it quits they transform into an oven. It is like Sampson of old bringing the entire house down on his head. The fridge goes all dystopian and destroys all in its death throes. To add to the Murphy’s Law moment, the fridge was filled with a plethora of freshly purchased, and might I add, innocent nutritional victims. It was carnage.

That’s a bad way to begin the day. And you know it is going to be an entire day of bad. We had remodeled our kitchen a couple of years ago and the lad who installed the fridge insert decided to be fancy. He left me 1/16” on each side to shove our fridge into the custom hole. I thought to myself at the time, “Someday I will regret this tight fit.” But I was so thrilled to finish the kitchen that I let that thought go with a lovely platitude: “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.” It was bridge-crossing day.

By this time I was already nursing a partially torn bicep tendon and was in ill humors. I tried laying hands on the fridge and praying like one of those guys I had seen on T.V. But I was a little rusty and couldn’t remember if I was supposed to cast out demons from kitchen appliances. Nothing happened except the unremitting emission of hellish smells. Thus, the big grunt and scoot began.

Imagine standing over a porta-pot just for grins and I can connect you with the smell of decay that fought me every step of the way. It was then that I noticed all of the happy fridge art and had my first good moment. Our fridge is not unique. Many people use the handy magnetic surface to display their nascent Picassos. I’ve been in the homes of wealthy people who proudly display their boring, spotless refrigerators. They are cavernous. You could hide several bodies in some of them. Not ours. I go for the best deal – not the cheapest; nor, the fridge that could prepare your taxes – something in the middling middle. And our fridge always does double duty. Besides holding our food and beverage at the right temperature, it is also a display of life: graduation announcements, months old Christmas cards, the occasional coupon which quietly expires underneath the ever-expanding kid-art exhibit.

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I looked at those pictures. The two year old had slashed a crayon across a blank page a few times, smiled and called it good. The three year old added a splash of color with her slashes. The six year old was showing some promise with attempts at animals and boats and self-portraits. He could fill several homes with his fridge-art productivity.

And here is the thing that struck me: each picture represented their best effort in the moment. Mastering the muscle control for a pencil, pen or crayon is no small thing. While drawing, the six year old often has his tongue slightly hanging out one side of his mouth – the universal sign of concentration and effort. Each image is a treasure of his best effort and love.

I wondered about that in respect to our journey. Faith, like art, is a learning process. We are, and always will be children in respect to the Father. We’re not expected to do more than what we’re able to do in what is called “today.” But to be able to do more tomorrowand the next day and all the days after that – we are expected to do what we can do today – to give it our best in the moment as an offering of love. It’s the fridge art of heaven.

Heirs, Part 2

One of the lower moments of humanity that I’ve experienced has been the planning of funerals with the bereaved. It’s not so much the object du jour of the planning session. Death happens and we memorialize the transition of a loved one the best we can. No, the low point has to do with the bickering and snubs and hurt feelings that ensue when it’s discovered who has got their cut, or lack thereof, in the Last Will & Testament of Granny. I’ve seen siblings refuse to speak to one another for years (forever?) over an antique dresser that once adorned granny’s bedroom. These funeral scrums are common as I witness the odd admixture of grief and fury. And when I’ve waded in to tell people to knock it off and behave that hasn’t always gone well. I’ve been metaphorically “struck on the cheek” in the words of Jesus for my helpful intervention. I only have two cheeks. After the family strikes the second one, it’s on baby. Oh, it’s on.

So back to the passage we had a look at yesterday and this phrase: God has made you his heirs. ~Galatians 4:7. We’ve met the church at Galatia in prior writings. This was the confused bunch that was adept at practicing spiritual perfidy. Those who followed the old law were being held up as  super Christians as they followed a strict Jewish diet and eagerly lined up for circumcision. (I have troubling images of those lads showing off their scars as evidence of their loftier status). Paul, reaching back to the story of Moses, reminded them that they had been redeemed from such slavery. They were now heirs. They needed to act like it.
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The nice thing about being an heir of God is that his kingdom riches are inexhaustible. There is nothing to fight over. His love is egalitarian. Paul once said: “Things which eye has not seen and ear has not heard, And which have not entered the heart of man to even consider – All that God has prepared for those who love Him.” `I Corinthians 2:9 It’s going to be great! We all get a dresser from granny.

Heirs, Part 1

Moses went from enslavement to emancipation as he was adopted by a Princess of Egypt. It is one of those stories of God’s providential guidance that prepared Moses to become a transactional leader for the Hebrew people. During his time in the courts of Pharaoh, as a momentary royal, he learned a thing or two about governance. The risk of arrogance associated with such a lofty status would be mitigated by a long stretch of tedious labor as a shepherd. For many years Moses would be on the lam with a bunch of lambs. Pushing the dull-witted beasts about the sparse country was the perfect finishing school for a man who would one day hold in his hands the original touch-screen tablet.

Just a few days ago I was reflecting on the adoption of my grandson Jude. One of the lines that had an impact on quite a few readers is worth revisiting. In respect to adoption I said this: The bond is powerful because the child has been chosen and at great sacrifice.  That was certainly true of Moses. His very name, Moshe, means, “plucked from the water.”  For the Egyptian Princess it was a foreign adoption. She scooped up a child from another race, culture and status and loved that child unconditionally. This new identity not only saved his life but it marked his destiny.

With this story ornamenting the background, Paul would say this to the church at Galatia: But when the set time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those under the law, that we might receive adoption to sonship. Because you are his sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out, “Abba, Father.” So you’re no longer slaves, but God’s children; and since you’re his children, God has made you his heirs. ~Galatians 4:4-7
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In respect to our relationship with Father God the same sentence holds true:The bond is powerful because the child has been chosen and at great sacrifice.  We are heirs of God. We will explore a bit more of what that means tomorrow.

Fearless Women

There is something I think worth noting in this adoption story. Before Moses became the great and iconic figure who would lead the Israelites out of bondage he needed quite a bit of help along the way. What’s interesting to me is that no man is mentioned as being of any help whatsoever. Moses is supported by a cast of fearless women.

We begin with the midwives who had been instructed to perform infanticide on any Hebrew males that were born: The king of Egypt said to the Hebrew midwives, whose names were Shiphrah and Puah, “When you are helping the Hebrew women during childbirth on the delivery stool, if you see that the baby is a boy, kill him; but if it is a girl, let her live.” The midwives, however, feared God and did not do what the king of Egypt had told them to do; they let the boys live. ~Exodus 1:15-17  The King caught wind of the fact that bouncing baby Hebrew boys were continuing to pop up everywhere  – a veritable bumper crop. He called the ladies in for what could have been a fatal confrontation: Then the king of Egypt summoned the midwives and asked them, “Why have you done this? Why have you let the boys live?” Exodus 1:18  Here, they come up with a versionof the truth: The midwives answered Pharaoh, “Hebrew women are not like Egyptian women; they are vigorous and give birth before the midwives arrive.”  Sure, they had probably seen this happen a few times in their career, but it is a stretch to think it happened every time. It was at some point during this midwife, civil disobedience movement that Moses was born. His mom must have been one of the vigorous Hebrew women brought to Pharaoh’s attention! 

Believe or not, millions are dependent on erection-enhancing medicines that help achieving erections for an cialis soft uk intercourse. Free coupons This is another exciting promotional offer online pharmacy viagra from our website. And to make the matters worst, when it comes to our sex lives, we really psyche ourselves up. side effects viagra Once your letters have been mailed out the count down starts. check these guys out discount viagra The next two ladies we meet are the ones we’ve been chatting about: Jochebed and Miriam, the mom and sister of Moses. Were it not for their fearless, careful deliberating and brilliant execution this baby would never have caught the attention and mercy of a Princess of Egypt.

It’s this Princess who completes the story. While we might suspect that a Pharaoh’s daughter was pampered and spoiled we can also assume that it took no small amount of courage to bring a Hebrew lad into the royal family – to in effect declare him a Prince of Egypt. But that’s what she did. We can glean from Scripture that the Pharaoh was none too happy about it based upon a sliver of a verse that shows up after Moses is grown. By this time Moses had been getting in touch with his Ancestry.com self and was hanging in the hood with the Hebrews. One day he sees a Hebrew slave taking a beating by a fellow Egyptian – not an uncommon scene. Wait, it’s not a fellow Egyptian! It’s an Egyptian! He is thrashing a fellow Hebrew! Moses goes Old Testament on the Egyptian and kills him. Later, the Pharaoh – Moses’ grandpa (!) – gets wind of it. Rather than calling Moses in to explain himself, he issues one of his famous precipitate judgments: When Pharaoh heard of this, he tried to kill Moses… ~Exodus 2:15  That doesn’t sound like any grandparent or parent that I know. Love gives the benefit of the doubt and support to the fallen. That was not Pharaoh’s default sentiment in respect to Moses. Pharaoh had been waiting for years to finish a job that in his mind should have been completed years earlier. Knowing this, and knowing the number of years Moses walked about Pharaoh’s courts, the Princess of Egypt may have been the bravest of them all.

Given Up For Adoption

It’s bad enough if you’re a slave. When you’re a slave living out your tedious existence under a tyrant who has summarily ordered the wholesale slaughter of infant boys, it is almost unbearable. When you’re a slave and the mother of one of those newborn lads, terror becomes your constant companion. It’s difficult to think, to breathe, to sleep. Babies are not famous for becoming or remaining quiet by decree. They can cry in four or five different gears at their leisure.

In a situation like this it would be easy to dial it in. The thought of your baby being ripped from your arms and slaughtered is just too much. To resign yourself to victimhood because of the apparent apathy of heaven and the cruelty of earth would be plausible. But Jochebed was cut from stronger timber. She refused to believe that her calling in life was to be a victim. Instead she chose to fight. And the greatest asset she had going for her was the presence of mind to use her God-given wisdom to craft a plan for her baby’s future.
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As we read yesterday, the plan worked to perfection. Not only was the child shown mercy by the daughter of the tyrant, he was placed back into the arms of his mother. It’s quite a remarkable story. But there was a catch. Because of the holy deception, Jochebed could never lay claim to her own child. She would have him until he was weaned and that would be it: When the child grew older, she took him to Pharaoh’s daughter and he became her son. She named him Moses,saying, “I drew him out of the water.”  ~Exodus 2:10

It’s an affecting scene. This Hebrew slave, this mom, gives up her son for adoption. She does it because her love is of the purest sort. She’s not thinking about herself.  That’s what victims do. That’s all they think about. They’re tiring to be around. But Jochebed  snubs the gently sloping path of self-pity. As she hands the child into the arms of the princess she has released her son from bondage. In the space of just a few seconds Moses has become a child of royalty.

The Everyday Miraculous

Wisdom stands marooned absent the discipline to act. Discipline is the application of wisdom. Over the years we accumulate a surfeit of wisdom but many times the discipline to act upon that wisdom has been shipped to another zip code.

Take diet for example. Whatever you eat is your diet; therefore, we’re all on one.  It’s the adjectives that make the difference. Is it a good diet or a bad diet? And it gets tricky. For years “conventional wisdom”,  fueled by well-funded lobbyists, pushed a carb-load diet that we’re finding out, years later, wasn’t that great for us. It increased the levels of obesity and diabetes throughout the nation. It has even caused a spike in Alzheimers which is now being referred to as Type 3 diabetes in many circles. Yet, the very things that caused our blood sugars to party like college frat boys and our moods to swing like lemurs through the jungle became the foundation of the now infamous food pyramid we learned about in school. I mention that to illustrate the simple truth that just because a great portion of society is howling approval of a thing doesn’t make it either right or wise.

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Yesterday we left off with a scene by the river Nile. An Egyptian princess was making her way down to bathe when she took notice of a small basket bobbing and weaving amongst the reeds. She opened it and discovered a fugitive Hebrew boy – one that should have been dead because of her father’s decree.

This bit of “show-boating” was no accident. According to the Torah, Jochebed, Moses’ mom, used every bit of her earthly wisdom to craft the scene. With the help of her daughter, Miriam, the plan succeeded beyond their wildest expectations: Then his sister (Miriam) asked Pharaoh’s daughter, “Shall I go and get one of the Hebrew women to nurse the baby for you?” “Yes, go,” she answered. So the girl went and got the baby’s mother. Pharaoh’s daughter said to her, “Take this baby and nurse him for me, and I will pay you.” So the woman took the baby and nursed him. When the child grew older, she took him to Pharaoh’s daughter and he became her son. She named him Moses,saying, “I drew him out of the water.” ~Exodus 2:7-10

Oftentimes Christians prematurely pray for Divine intervention and fail to realize that the sum of their gifts and their experiences is in fact, miraculous. We are given brains to think, hands and feet to move and to serve, and a redeemed spirit to host the presence of God. God will often work wonders with these everyday, miraculous resources when they are fully engaged. However, heaven will frequently remain on the sidelines for those who neglect the natural while awaiting the supernatural. If you want a miracle – if you want the baby back that you’ve risked to the currents and crocodiles of the Nile – you first have build a basket and put the baby in the water.

Skinny-Dipping in The Nile

We left the wee Moses yesterday near the banks of the Nile resting in a makeshift crib-boat. His older sister, Miriam, was given the task of keeping an eye on the tiny craft. Watching a baby isn’t so bad when the baby is safely ensconced in a home. But the possibility of baby Moses catching a wave and shooting the rapids was an altogether different and troubling prospect. Moreover, the Nile was filled with crocodiles. They were revered  – so much so that they were elevated to the crowded stage of modish nature deities during Pharaoh’s long, one-party rule. We can assume that those ancient, hipster Egyptian millennials couldn’t wait to get their first crocodile tattoo. The Egyptians loved their body art and their bling.

And it seems that the Egyptians also enjoyed skinny-dipping in the Nile: Then Pharaoh’s daughter went down to the Nile to bathe, and her attendants were walking along the riverbank…~Exodus 2:5 I don’t believe this was an accident nor necessarily a miracle in the truest sense of the word. This daughter of the Pharaoh was accompanied by attendants, some of whom were slaves. Slaves come in pretty handy when flushing the reeds of sneaky crocodiles. But the slaves would also know the nature, movements and bathing habits of their mistress. The palace gossip amongst slaves was nothing novel. While the loss of arousal can be found in the names of Kamagra oral jelly, Zenegra, Silagra, Zenegra, buy levitra online, Caverta etc. Here enjoy the ordering on this site a kind of online site, which deals widely with cialis purchase stuff for the first time to deal with impotence in man. Before the introduction of female viagra pills valsonindia.com, individuals suffering from erectile dysfunction did not have an effective treatment. Food requested improvements to the Propecia tag in 2012 that outlined the sexual unwanted effects, and also that some males have the problems once they stopped taking the on line viagra drug. With their tedious lives they swapped snippets of information to both amuse and to inform. Such valuable Intel could mean the difference between life and death. The word had gotten out that this particular daughter of the Pharaoh was not some self-absorbed, prima-princess. This one had a heart. And evidently she had some interest in personal hygiene as well. As her servants combed the banks of her favorite mud-bath nature spa, shooing away the crocodiles, the Princess spied with her little eye some interesting flotsam: She saw the basket among the reeds and sent her female slave to get it. She opened it and saw the baby. He was crying, and she felt sorry for him. “This is one of the Hebrew babies,” she said. ~Exodus 2:5-6 A miracle? Sure. Did Miriam and her ma conspire to add a few ingredients to the miracle? Surely. What they brought to the table was wisdom, hope and no small amount of courage. What God brought was the nudge for a Princess to have an unpleasant olfactory moment and say, “Whew, I need a bath.”