Tag: 2 Chronicles 36

Condemned by History: the Shocking Reality of Human Justice

As we read through Daniel 6, the brutal reality of life in the ancient world hits hard. Those who conspired against Daniel—along with their wives and children—are thrown into the lions’ den. This kind of punishment, common in the ancient Near East, feels almost incomprehensible to us today. It serves as a sobering reminder of how human justice, no matter the era, can be incredibly harsh and inconsistent. What one generation sees as necessary justice, another may view as cruelty.

When we think of justice today, we can’t help but wonder: how will future generations judge us? Laws we think are right now may be condemned as unjust or even barbaric 10, 100, or 1,000 years from now. The values and principles we uphold may shift with time, and that’s the reality of human systems—they are shaped by culture, society, and limited knowledge. What we see in Daniel’s story is a raw example of this—King Darius, under the laws of his kingdom, saw fit to wipe out entire families based on the actions of a few.

In contrast, God’s justice is different. It transcends time and culture. God doesn’t need to evolve or adjust His standards; He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. His justice is not only perfectly fair, but also perfectly good. While our understanding of fairness shifts with each generation, God’s character remains unwavering. He is consistent, and His judgments are always right and true.

This contrast between human and divine justice should give us pause. If our sense of justice is so fleeting and imperfect, how much more should we trust in God’s perfect judgment? His justice is not reactive or prone to the whims of culture. He knows every motive, every thought, and every action. What we deem fair today might be seen as cruel in the future, but God is eternally justified in His ways.

In this world where justice is imperfect, we are invited to place our hope in a God who is always good, always fair, and always just. While human justice systems will continue to shift, God’s standard of justice will never change. We can take comfort in knowing that His ways are perfect, even when ours are not.

Why Your Life Needs to Burn Down… Sometimes

When I read today’s passage, one thought struck me above the others: Israel, now “desolate,” would finally have its “Sabbath Rest.” This isn’t just about a nation lying in ruins—it’s about the spiritual renewal that only comes after the flames of destruction have swept through.

Imagine a forest. For centuries, forest fires were a natural part of its life cycle. The flames would burn away dead wood, making room for new growth. Today, we try to stop any fire from breaking out, thinking we’re protecting the forest. But without those periodic burns, the underbrush grows thick, the dead wood piles up, and eventually, a fire does come—and it’s far more devastating.

Israel’s desolation was like that necessary fire. The nation had accumulated so much spiritual “dead wood”—idolatry, injustice, and disobedience—that God allowed a cleansing fire to sweep through. This wasn’t just judgment; it was a reset, a forced Sabbath rest. In the ashes of what was, God was preparing the ground for what could be—a new beginning, a renewal.

What does this mean for us? Sometimes, God allows parts of our lives to “burn down” so that we can experience true spiritual renewal. We might resist, thinking we’re protecting ourselves, but without these periods of cleansing, the weight of unaddressed sin, unresolved issues, and spiritual complacency only grows. When God strips away what’s unnecessary, He’s making room for new growth—preparing us for something better.

So, if you’re going through a time of desolation, don’t despair. It might be that God is clearing the way for something new. Let the old burn away, and embrace the Sabbath rest He’s offering—a time to reflect, repent, and renew your commitment to Him. After the fire, new life will spring forth.

For Now Isn’t Forever

In our journey through life, we often find ourselves adjusting to our circumstances, whether they be moments of joy or seasons of hardship. This adjustment, while necessary, can sometimes deceive us into believing that our current situation is permanent. Psychologists refer to this tendency as the “status quo bias,” where we assume that the way things are now is how they will continue to be, leading us to resist change or fail to anticipate it.

I experienced this personally when my mother-in-law suffered a brain aneurysm. The aneurysm left her unable to recover, and though her body continued to function, the prognosis was bleak. For five days, our family sat with her in the hospital, watching and waiting. It was shocking how quickly the surreal became routine. The beeping machines, the sterile smell of the hospital, the cost of parking—they all became a new normal. When she finally passed on that fifth day, it felt as though she had died again, as we were jolted out of a reality we had inadvertently settled into.

The story of King Zedekiah demonstrates a similar situation. Zedekiah was granted a temporary reprieve when the Babylonian forces withdrew from Jerusalem to face another threat. Instead of seeking God or using this time to prepare, Zedekiah seemed to assume that this new reality would persist. He mistook the pause in pressure as a lasting peace. But as we read in Jeremiah 37, that peace was fleeting. The Babylonians returned, and Jerusalem’s fate was sealed.

Like Zedekiah, we can easily become complacent, mistaking temporary relief as a permanent state. But as Christians, we are called to live with a different mindset. We are reminded in Scripture to always be vigilant, to be in a constant state of readiness for whatever God may call us to next. We are not to settle into our current circumstances, assuming they will last forever, but rather to trust that God is at work in every season, preparing us for His next move.

Our lives are full of transitions, and while it’s natural to adapt to our surroundings, we must not let our temporary circumstances define our expectations for the future. Whether in times of peace or in the midst of trials, we should continually seek God, asking Him what He desires to teach us and how He wants us to prepare for what lies ahead.

Let us remember that for now isn’t forever. Our trust should not be in the permanence of our circumstances, but in the eternal God who guides us through them. We must remain ready, always seeking, always listening, and always prepared to follow where He leads.

How Will You Lead?

I’ve always been struck by the profound responsibility that comes with leadership, particularly in the church. Reading through Jeremiah 22-23, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of God’s words directed at the leaders of Israel. As a leader, these passages serve as a sobering reminder that shepherding God’s people is not about serving ourselves but about being faithful stewards of His truth.

In Jeremiah 23:1-2, God condemns the shepherds who destroy and scatter the sheep of His pasture. This rebuke is not limited to the kings but extends to the religious leaders as well. Those who are supposed to guide and protect God’s people are instead leading them astray, prioritizing their own interests over the well-being of the flock. The failure of these leaders to listen to God and to faithfully communicate His message is a betrayal of their calling.

As a preacher, this strikes a deep chord within me. The role of a preacher, much like the prophets of old, is to declare God’s word to His people. But how can we do that if we do not first listen to what He has to say? Jeremiah 23:16-22 makes it clear that those who claim to speak for God must be faithful to His words, not their own ideas or desires. This is not just a call to those who stand in the pulpit, but to anyone in a position of spiritual leadership—whether you’re leading a church, a small group, or your own family.

It’s easy to let our own agendas, insecurities, or even good intentions cloud our ability to hear from God. But as leaders, we must be committed to both truth and transparency. We must be willing to speak God’s truth, even when it’s difficult, and to do so with integrity and humility.

This is a commitment I continue to make in my own ministry, and it’s one I challenge all leaders to take seriously. We must shepherd God’s people with care, ensuring that we are faithful to His word and not leading others astray by our own neglect or self-interest. Let’s be leaders who listen, who seek God’s guidance, and who are faithful to the task we’ve been given.

Tell Me What I Want To Hear

In Jeremiah 26:11, we see the priests and prophets accusing Jeremiah of treason for delivering a prophecy of doom: “This man deserves the sentence of death because he has prophesied against this city, as you have heard with your own ears.” Jeremiah’s words were not what the people wanted to hear, and their reaction highlights a common human tendency: rejecting uncomfortable truths in favor of comforting lies. This is echoed in 2 Timothy 4:3-4, where Paul warns that a time will come when people “will not put up with sound doctrine. Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear. They will turn their ears away from the truth and turn aside to myths.”

The accusation of treason against Jeremiah underscores the resistance to prophetic truth that contradicts personal or national expectations. Jeremiah’s prophecy was not treasonous; it was a call to repentance, aiming to avert the disaster that awaited Judah if they continued in their sinful ways. Yet, the people preferred to silence the prophet rather than heed his warning, demonstrating the peril of valuing comfort over truth.

This scenario isn’t unique to ancient Judah. Today, we can be just as prone to seeking out voices that affirm our desires and beliefs, rather than those that challenge us with uncomfortable truths. Whether it’s in politics, religion, or personal relationships, the temptation to surround ourselves with yes-men—those who tell us what we want to hear rather than what we need to hear—is ever-present. This leads to a dangerous echo chamber, where truth becomes a casualty, and growth is stunted.

Paul’s warning to Timothy is a timeless caution against this tendency. True growth, both spiritually and personally, requires a willingness to face hard truths and to be corrected. When we reject sound doctrine in favor of teachings that merely scratch our itching ears, we stray from the path of righteousness and risk falling into deception.

In our lives, we must strive to value truth over comfort. This means being open to correction, seeking out voices that challenge us, and remaining vigilant against the tendency to embrace only those messages that affirm our desires.