Rebellion always starts in the undisciplined whispers of the jilted. Or the hopeful and liberated minds of the free.
The jealous saw the future as hard and unwanted. They wanted the ease of their past lives, forgetting the oppression, forgetting the generations who had hoped to be in their shoes. But because they couldn’t get back, maybe they could seek power. Seek leadership. Seek the special seat in the tent. Forgetting that they already had a special seat, a very important and intimate seat in the midst of a tribal nation heading towards hope.
The hopeful leaders of liberation heading to the new world had held weight for what seemed like generations. They were spoken of for centuries, and represented the silent hopes and dreams of thousands of unique minds. The pressure, the stress, the intimidating masses were all softened by the intimate process of meeting a god face to face. And when push came to shove, these leaders of a mass movement, a mass exodus, ran to the centre of conflict between the rebellion and the god being rebelled against.
How could a camp as such continue without tearing itself to shreds, they knew the agreements, they were aware of the power and the possibilities of both god and man, and yet they pushed forward with the rebellion. A rebellion lost before it had started. A rebellion that would domino effect into more destruction, and possibly annihilation of the entire tribe. But once again, blunt force trauma was applied to members of certain families, and they disappeared from this earth through another ‘miraculous’ act of destruction. This time not flood, not disease, not famine, but what appears to be a giant quicksand pit formerly unseen.
And what is the cookie cutter cutesy child appropriate conclusion we take from this story?
Nothing. I am neither tribal, nor jealous of those who carry such weight. My experience of God is through the looking glass of Jesus… so.. rose coloured glasses I will wear, I erase all questions of oddness, or terror, of evil. There has to be life in there somewhere.
But what is the most offence we can take away? That God, would sometimes destroy members of a family line, who were indirectly involved in a rebellion against the communal and tribal roles that God had given to that family. The God, committed to a tribe of people, gave them clear boundaries, and clear opportunities, and clear hope. From all records we have, it looks as though they knew what they were getting into, and to their end, they challenged God to prove himself. Taunting what they knew would happen. Taunting the internal meltdown and the external irritating with the destruction of a harmony. The gestation period of the incarnation. And without the incarnation… the entire experiment of love fails.
But as the incarnation was never the plan B, it could never fail. And as each of us are agents of the end times we hurry or slow the progression and the building of the city of life. And the more we use the language of elitism, of power hungry oppression, of comparison, of death…. the slower we will see the redemption of the world and the roll out of living forever.
Be who you are. And love. To the extent of being a shield or a seed for others. But at least by kissing the babies you hold and holding the hands that are extended to you.