Ahaz to Hezekiah -
the stories are told.
The first hears
and disregards wisdom,
choosing military might
over Yahweh's uncontainable
mystery.
Unto you a child is born,
unto you a son is given...
bursts forth from the bitterness of
Isaiah's lamentation,
and a nation wonders.
The second king chooses well,
accepting God's sign -
a worthy monarch,
it seems.
"Is he the One?"
is whispered in
alleyways
and streets.
But when an alien
dignitary
arrives on the scene,
he is received with
a friend's embrace;
all wealth
and might,
all secrets and
stealth
are exposed -
the doors opened wide
in the hope
of gaining an ally.
Hear the word
of God on high:
all your treasures will
be plundered,
your grandchildren
captured, mutilated
and enslaved...
Hezekiah responds -
"Oh, good news for me -
at least it will happen
after I'm gone."
Short-sightedness
and self-focus
blind even this
otherwise sagacious ruler
who chose well
so often,
yet was not divine.
Who do I trust when
peril brews?
What or who do I cling to
and emulate,
striving to impress
and ingratiate?
All, all will ultimately fail
to save us.
We must not enthrone
mere mortals
on the God seat -
disallowing their frailty,
their humanity,
their ability to be
both heroic
and sick*.
The weight of trust and worship
will ultimately crush a human
or anything human-made;
it is a God-shaped burden only.
Let Him receive your trust,
then hold lightly to others,
setting them free
to simply
be.
*"heroic and sick" is a line taken from
Lord of the Flies by William Golding
