Thursday of the Second week of Easter: Soft Stone

Lessons: Psalm 18; Daniel 2:31-49; First John 2:18-29; Luke 3:1-14 

We all have them from time to time. Dreams come that wake our sleep. Such dreams have meaning as the depth of our psyche empties out our fears, worries, hopes. I heard it said that such dreams keep us sane and are a release from what "drives us crazy." For decades I would wake, record the dreams, later seek their meaning.

In Daniel, King Nebuchadnez'zar has one such dream that so awakens him. He insists on knowing its meaning. But he insists on more. He will not tell the dream, insisting that the only way to know its truth is for a wise person both to tell and interpret the dream by revelation. Long story short, Daniel, a captive Israelite trained in wisdom, is the one person who does accomplish this.

 

At the core of the dream is a magnificent statue made of all the precious metals which layer down the body from gold at the head to a mixture of clay and iron at the base. Each layer is a successive kingdom, from the present gold head to the eventuality of clay and iron feet, that will in time topple it all. God will one day replace these kingdoms with a lasting one.

Daniel concludes his interpretation: "And in the days of those kings the God of heaven will set up a kingdom that shall never be destroyed, nor shall this kingdom be left to another people. It shall crush all these kingdoms and bring them to an end, and it shall stand forever; just as you saw that a stone was cut from the mountain not by hands, and that it crushed the iron, the bronze, the clay, the silver, and the gold. The great God has informed the king what shall be hereafter. The dream is certain, and its interpretation trustworthy." 2:44-45

The question left to the reader is what and when is this kingdom of lasting value? What did Daniel see and hope, and what did God mean? When the story was recorded for the benefit of Israel did the recorder have a bias and was it true? We of course know the recorder's hope was that this reign would be that of Israel purified and righteous.

Today we have switched from John to Luke as our Gospel and we find in the third chapter Luke's record of the historical time of John the Baptist's appearing. It is set in earthy power. Who is in charge of what? 

We hear the Baptist's cry: As it is written in the book of the words of the prophet Isaiah, "The voice of one crying out in the wilderness: 'Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low,and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth; and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.' "

Here is an image of the whole earth bowing in submission to the reign of God. Would that it were so. The question of course is raised with the repentants who want to ready themselves, "What must I do?" John's answer is essentially share your wealth from a charitable heart. Be honest in your dealings. Use your power and influence rightly, truthfully, and seek to be content with your place.  This is not the reign to come. It is however how one prepares to receive it.

The reign was perhaps best described by the prophet Ezekiel who says in God's voice, "I will give you an new heart and put a new Spirit in you; I will take the heart of stone from your body and give you a heart of flesh." 36:26.

Here is the mystery we live in. All that seems so precious to the world, -- wealth, power, riches -- fade before the heart of God. All we are taught to desire by the world separated from the Creator of it all, is as nothing before the soft, yet firm compassion of the wise follower. Habitat for Humanity means more than all the suburbs we make for ourselves. Soup kitchens lovingly carried out mean more than restaurants we enjoy. Listening ears compassionately attuned mean more than our efforts to climb the ladders of society, work and ease. And yet all places can be occasions for this compassionate heart to come alive. The stone which crushes the clay feet of power is soft yet firm like compassion. It is soft yet firm in resolve like the heart hung upon the cross. It is soft yet real like the rising of the Christ that passes through the doors we build for self protection, our sealed upper rooms.  Blessed are we when that rock rolls over us, suddenly crushed by softness, inhabited by compassion.  Invited to stand firmly gentle before what seems power in this world.

I would guess Daniel did not quite know this. But it seems that God did.