Tag Archives: Human Rights

Scripture on Sunday – Proverbs 31:1-9

King-DrinksProverbs 31:1-9
The words of King Lemuel, the oracle which his mother taught him:                

What, O my son?       
And what, O son of my womb?          
And what, O son of my vows?

Do not give your strength to women, or your ways to that which destroys kings. 
It is not for kings, O Lemuel, it is not for kings to drink wine,          
Or for rulers to desire strong drink, for they will drink and forget what is decreed, and pervert the rights of the afflicted.          

Give strong drink to him who is perishing, and wine to him whose life is bitter. Let him drink and forget his poverty and remember his trouble no more.

Open your mouth for the mute, for the rights of all the unfortunate. Open your mouth, judge righteously, and defend the rights of the afflicted and needy (NASB).

Although we cannot be sure whether any women authored books or passages of Scripture, there are a number of texts in Scripture attributed to women, including this one. King Lemuel is otherwise unknown to us, although Murphy suggests that he was king of “Massa,” understood as an area in northern Arabia (Murphy, Proverbs (WBC), 239). He bases this conjecture on a possible translation of the word “oracle” as Massa. The name itself, however, is a Hebrew word meaning “belonging to God” (Kidner, Proverbs (TOTC), 182). The passage has a number of similarities with other wisdom texts from the Ancient Near East, and even includes Aramaic words and idioms. Nevertheless, Murphy (240) notes that this is the only instance in such literature where the king is instructed by his mother. In the end he considers the oracle to be a Hebrew composition.

It is tempting to suggest that the passage is about “wine, women, and song,” although there is no mention of indulging in the pleasures of music. Nevertheless, the king is instructed to “open his mouth!” Of wine and women, however, there is firm, blunt instruction, though the order is reversed. The mother offers this counsel on the basis of her maternal authority: he has come forth from her womb, having received his life from her. Further, he is the “son of my vows,” perhaps reminiscent of the promise Hannah made with respect to Samuel (cf. 1 Samuel 1:11, 28).

“Give not your strength to women, or your ways to that which destroys kings!” The admonition is more a warning against promiscuity than an assertion of the supposed wickedness of women. Kings often have the resources to indulge their desires in ways not available to poorer, less powerful folk. Nor is it for the king to indulge in wine and other strong drink lest he forgets the decrees and perverts the rights of the afflicted. Whereas the king is not to drink and forget, he should give strong drink to the afflicted that they may drink and forget – their afflictions and poverty. This, too, is unusual advice, especially in light of a text like Proverbs 20:1, a strident repudiation of strong drink and drunkenness (cf. 23:20-21, 29-35). Perhaps it is best to let verse 6 set the scenario: “Give strong drink to him who is perishing,” and so see the advice in terms of administering a palliative or an analgesic.

Finally, the mother counsels her son to open his mouth for the mute, for the rights of the dispossessed, afflicted, vulnerable and needy. Rather than forget their rights, he is to enter the fray on their behalf, defending their rights and upholding their cause.

A number of themes in this short passage deserve reflection.

  1. Some things are wrong, bad and evil for anyone, but especially for those charged with leadership or who hold the reins of power, justice or influence. Self-indulgence eviscerates moral awareness, courage and determination. Drunkenness, sexual laxity and other self-indulgent pursuits cause one to centre in on themselves and to forget their responsibilities, and sometimes, all else. These things destroy leaders, cause them to become oppressors, and tear at the very fabric of trust that binds the relationship of leader and followers.
  2. Murphy translates verse three as “Do not give your strength to women, or your power to those who destroy kings.” Many of us have been granted a measure of strength or power, often in different spheres of endeavour or responsibility, and we can use that power to indulge ourselves and satisfy our own desires, or we can use it to help, benefit and bless others around us. Instead of spending it on himself, the king is admonished to preserve and direct his strength for the sake of the mute and the vulnerable. He is to remember the “decrees,” the sacred trust granted to him as king, as a leader, as one given power and influence. He is to serve others rather than himself, and not simply any others, but the poor and defenceless, those who have no other helper, and those who cannot repay him with favours.
  3. The primary service the king is to render is to “open his mouth” for the mute (vv. 8, 9). According to Murphy, “the ‘mute’ are not so much physically as they are socially weak, without a voice among those who administer justice” (241). I find this one particularly challenging. Too often, I think, I have not spoken up when I could and should have done so. Larry Crabb entitled one of his books “The Silence of Adam,” arguing that Adam stayed silent when he should have spoken up. He suggests this a sin that befalls many men particularly. It is true there is a time to be silent, but there are also times where to be silent is to add affliction to those already suffering. I must remember to “open my mouth for the mute.”
  4. It is not uncommon to hear that the language of “rights” emerged in western culture with the Enlightenment. Although there may be some truth in that, this passage is a clear biblical example of rights language, though in Scripture it applies to the “rights” of the vulnerable, afflicted and needy. It is not at all unusual in our culture for the powerful to stand up for their rights. Again, this passage calls us to stand up for others’ rights.
  5. Finally, I have sometimes tried to imagine a world in which women held the offices and reins of power instead of men. Would such a world be different to what it often is now? Certainly women are sinful just as men are. But would a world ordered by women be as given to violence as it is now? Would abuse and oppression be so widespread? Perhaps. Lord Acton’s famous dictum probably applies to women as much as it does to men although it seems he had men specifically in mind: “Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men.” But the words of this passage originated as the counsel of a woman, a mother using her power and influence to train her son who one day would be king. May her tribe increase.

“The Humanity of God”

God-and-AdamThis lecture, delivered by Karl Barth on September 25, 1956 at a Swiss Reformed Ministers Association meeting, is the second lecture in a little collection of three lectures bearing the same name. Barth begins the lecture with an opening statement that defines what he means by this intriguing and provocative title:

The humanity of God! Rightly understood that is bound to mean God’s relation to and turning toward man. It signifies the God who speaks with man in promise and command. It represents God’s existence, intercession, and activity for man, the intercourse God holds with him, and the free grace in which He wills to be and is nothing other than the God of man (Barth, The Humanity of God, 37).

That is, Barth’s ascription of humanity to God is a metaphor intended to emphasise the utter grace of God in God’s relation towards humanity. Barth is not saying that God is actually “human,” as though he were humanity writ large, or as though he were actually human with no remainder.

The introduction and first section of the lecture function as a kind of “retraction,” or more accurately, a correction. Barth recalls the fundamental shift, the 180o change of theological direction whereby forty years earlier he and his companions repudiated the major features of nineteenth-century theology and struck out on a new course. What they sought was a mighty reaffirmation of God’s deity, the “godness” of God over against what they understood as the anthropocentric theology of their forebears. Now Barth confesses, “We were wrong exactly where we were right” (44). It is not that Barth wants to lose this emphasis on divine sovereignty—far from it! But in and of itself, it is insufficient for it does not convey with necessary precision the full truth of who God is:

See the moon in yonder sky?
’Tis only half that meets the eye.

The fulsome emphasis on God’s transcendent deity meant that God’s “humanity” was left undeveloped. Barth still wants to assert the godness of God, though now with an emphasis also on God’s humanity.

The second section of the lecture then insists that the humanity of God is seen and known only in the place where God—in his deity—has given himself to be known; that is, in Jesus Christ. There is no abstract God just as there is no abstract humanity: here, in Christ, both true deity and true humanity are revealed. Nevertheless, Barth resolutely maintains the ordering of God’s deity vis-à-vis his humanity, but just as resolutely insists on his real, actual and genuine humanity. All this comes together in what I call a “purple passage”:

In Jesus Christ there is no isolation of man from God or of God from man. Rather, in him we encounter the history, the dialogue, in which God and man meet together and are together, the reality of the covenant mutually contracted, preserved, and fulfilled by them. Jesus Christ is in his one person, as true God, man’s loyal partner, and as true man, God’s. He is the Lord humbled for communion with man and likewise the Servant exalted to communion with God. He is the Word spoken from the loftiest, most luminous transcendence and likewise the Word heard in the deepest, darkest immanence. He is both, without their being confused but also without their being divided; He is wholly one and wholly the other. Thus in this oneness Jesus Christ is the Mediator, the Reconciler, between God and man. Thus he comes forward to man on behalf of God calling for and awakening faith, love, and hope, and to God on behalf of man, representing man, making satisfaction and interceding. Thus he attests and guarantees to man God’s free grace and at the same time attests and guarantees to God man’s free gratitude.  Thus he establishes in his person the justice of God vis-à-vis man and also the justice of man before God. Thus he is in his person the covenant in its fullness, the Kingdom of heaven which is at hand, in which God speaks and man hears, God gives and man receives, God commands and man obeys, God’s glory shines in the heights and thence into the depths, and peace on earth comes to pass among men in whom he is well pleased. Moreover, exactly in this way Jesus Christ, as this Mediator and Reconciler between God and man, is also the Revealer of them both. We do not need to engage in a free-ranging investigation to seek out and construct who and what God truly is, and who and what man truly is, but only to read the truth about both where it resides, namely, in the fullness of their togetherness, their covenant which proclaims itself in Jesus Christ. …

Beyond doubt God’s deity is the first and fundamental fact that strikes us when we look at the existence of Jesus Christ as attested in the Holy Scripture. … In the existence of Jesus Christ, the fact that God speaks, gives, orders, comes absolutely first—that man hears, receives, obeys, can and must only follow this first act. In Jesus Christ man’s freedom is wholly enclosed in the freedom of God (46-48).

God does not exist in majestic isolation in and for himself, utterly free from all that is not God. God’s freedom is freedom to love (48). God is free not only to be God, mighty, majestic and exalted but also lowly, a servant, human. The mystery of God includes God’s determination not to be without humanity, but with them; not to be against humanity, but for them. God determines to love us, to be our God, our Lord, our Preserver and Saviour, and as such, God is human (50-51). “His free affirmation of man, his free concern for him, his free substitution for him—this is God’s humanity” (51).

The final section of the lecture develops some implications of the humanity of God, including:

  1. A real distinction is bestowed on every human person, entirely on the basis of grace. Every person is loved of God who is their father. Their humanity is God’s gift, and so must issue in the practical acknowledgement of every person’s human rights and dignity (53).
  2. Theology finds its focus and message in the humanity of God, for theology is determined by its object. Theology is not about God in himself, nor human existence in and of itself, but about the “history, dialogue and communion” of God with humanity and humanity with God—and in this order.
  3. Because the covenant is “history, dialogue and communion” theology also finds its character and form: that is, theology exists as prayer and proclamation, as responsive address to God, and as the address of the great news of God’s love to all others.
  4. The message of the church is the joyful, positive announcement of God’s affirmation of humanity. Certainly God’s No is inevitable, but it has been borne by Jesus Christ. Barth refuses to deny or confirm the idea of universalism, but trenchantly insists that “this much is certain, that we have no theological right to set any sort of limits to the loving-kindness of God which has appeared in Jesus Christ” (62).
  5. Finally, God’s turn toward humanity calls forth and awakens a company of people who respond to God in worship, praise and service—the church.

We should be ashamed of Jesus Christ himself, were we willing to be ashamed of the church. What Jesus Christ is for God and for us, on earth and in time, he is as Lord of this community, as King of this people, as Head of this body and of all its members. … We believe the church as the place where the crown of humanity, namely, man’s fellow-humanity, may become visible in Christocratic brotherhood. Moreover, we believe it as the place where God’s glory wills to dwell upon earth, that is, where humanity—the humanity of God—wills to assume tangible form in time and here upon earth. Here we recognize the humanity of God. Here we delight in it. Here we celebrate and witness to it. Here we glory in the Immanuel… (64-65).