The goal of terrorism is fear.
This morning marks the tenth anniversary of 9/11. Before 9/11 there was always an awareness that we lived in a dangerous world. But most of the danger seemed far away, on Arab soil, or wherever. But then suddenly we watched in horror as our passenger airliners were weaponized and crashed into buildings in our cities. The terrorists chose the World Trade Center and Pentagon because those buildings were symbols of our wealth and power. They knew that if they could destroy these buildings, or even the White House, they could make the ordinary American feel vulnerable.
Such is the essence of terrorism. It's a carefully scripted effort to exaggerate one's power so as to gain influence. The terrorist has to act symbolically. He relies heavily on the media to broadcast and replay the horrors of his evil deeds. He wants to appear all-powerful, and all-knowing, and omnipresent. He wants us to believe he can strike anywhere, at anytime, and that nothing is too impossible for him to achieve. He'll kill men, women, children, military, non-military, religious, irreligious, even himself or his own children in the name of ideology.
The goal of terrorism is fear. The other night I was working in my garage after dark. I had the garage door opened up to let in cool air. Sure enough, this menacing cicada comes barreling into the garage. He's making that horrid clicking sound. He's buzzing around like a drunk kamikaze, banging into the lights and walls. And then he crashes to the floor and starts doing donuts, taunting me, "Look at me!" Rrrr... Rrrr... Rrrr... Rrrr. About that time Lara opens the door to let the dogs out. Before I could react, Rock E scoops up the menacing cicada and begins crunching on him. I didn't realize you could eat cicadas without chocolate!
But what makes a cicada a cicada? What makes a terrorist a terrorist? It's his symbolic power. He's loud. He's menacing. He's bold. He's unpredictable. He comes when you least expect him. He's angry. Of course, to Rock E, a cicada was just a tasty snack. And what might a terrorist be in the hands of God?
Many of us live in a prison of fear.
I don't wish to minimize the danger of global terrorism in any way. For us, though, our sense of danger can be very real and very near. And not just because of global terrorism. There are many among us who live in a prison of fear every single day for other reasons. There are many who feel that there is no hope of rescue or redemption. I have sat with many of you in my office as you have described the most horrific things that have happened to you at the hands of a parent, a spouse, a boyfriend, a trusted authority figure or relative, or an evil person, even a complete stranger.
I wonder how many of us can relate to Psalm 13:1-4 (NIV)? The psalmists were brutally honest with God about their danger. "How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me? Look on me and answer, O Lord my God. Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death; my enemy will say, 'I have overcome him', and my foes will rejoice when I fall."
One of our deepest longings is to be delivered from danger. I think of the nation of Israel in the days of Nehemiah. How terrorized they must have felt after the Babylonians descended on their land and decimated their great city of Jerusalem. The city walls and gates were destroyed. They looted the temple, burned down people's homes, violently attacked, raped, and killed Israelite women. They did horrible, unspeakable, ruthless acts of violence.
There is a theology of terrorism.
There is a psychology to terrorism. There is a paralysis that occurs, where you feel utterly powerless and completely vulnerable. Not only is there a psychology to terrorism, but there is often a theology too. Those afflicted with violence conclude, "God doesn't exist. If God does exist, he is not powerful, he is not sovereign, and he is not in control." Or they conclude, "God is not good. He is not faithful or trustworthy. He's vindictive, even maniacal."
When you read Psalms, you will notice the psalmists wrestled with the very same things. And they asked questions far bolder than any of us can imagine. Consider Psalm 22:1-2 (NIV) for example. "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from the words of my groaning? O my God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer, by night, and am not silent."
Did you know that Jesus Christ, the Son of God, prayed these exact same words as he died on the cross? In Matthew 27:46 (NIV) we're told, "About the ninth hour Jesus cried out in a loud voice, "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?"-- which means, 'My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?' "
Violence leaves us feeling forsaken by God. The cross was a carefully scripted ritual used by the Romans to instill the maximum amount of terror. It was humiliating because in a culture of modesty, a person would be stripped naked. It was violent. Stakes would be driven through one's wrists and feet. It was cruel. It was designed to maximize suffering and pain, with a person ultimately dying of suffocation and gasping for air as their lungs and heart filled with water. Not even the Son of God was exempt from such a terrifying ordeal. But was Christ terrified? In Luke 23:46 (NIV) Jesus calls out in a loud voice, "Father, into your hands I commit my spirit." This is what he said when he breathed his last breath.
In the midst of terror, God is nearer and more real than we could imagine.
This is really the point of Psalm 22. It's that even in the midst of terror, God is still nearer and more real than we could ever imagine. Psalm 22:2-5 (NIV) says, "O my God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer, by night, and am not silent. Yet you are enthroned as the Holy One; you are the praise of Israel. In you our fathers put their trust; they trusted you and you delivered them. They cried to you and were saved; in you they trusted and were not disappointed."
Remember Psalm 13:1 (NIV) where the psalmist cries out, "How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?" To which the psalmist replies in Psalm 13:5-6 (NIV), "But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, for he has been good to me."
It strikes me that in the scriptures the psalmists' momentary experience in the midst of suffering always consists of emotions like fear, doubt, uncertainty, or anger. But time after time, the psalmists rejoice as they see God working out his plan of redemption. God is powerful. God is sovereign. God is in control after all. God is good.
In Psalm 11:3 (NIV) David asks, "When the foundations are being destroyed, what can the righteous do?" To which he replies in Psalm 11:4-7 (NIV), "The Lord is in his holy temple; the Lord is on his heavenly throne. He observes the sons of men; his eyes examine them. The Lord examines the righteous, but the wicked and those who love violence his soul hates. On the wicked he will rain fiery coals and burning sulfur; a scorching wind will be their lot. For the Lord is righteous, he loves justice; upright men will see his face."
I don't at all suppose any of us will like what I am about to say, but I am here to speak on behalf of God. This is the often unpleasant truth of his grace.
God remembers his covenant.
In the Bible there is no hope for the persistently wicked. There is no salvation for those who shun God. When the Babylonians destroyed Israel, it was because the Israelites had turned away from God. Throughout her history, God had warned Israel, "If you are unfaithful, I will scatter you among the nations, but if you return to me and obey my commands, then even if your exiled people are at the farthest horizon, I will gather them to the place I have chosen as a dwelling for my Name." See Nehemiah 1:8-9 (NIV).
In Nehemiah 1:8 (NIV) Nehemiah banks on this promise, "Remember the instruction you gave your servant Moses..." God doesn't turn away from us. It's us who turn away from God. And how quickly we're scattered when we do so. Yet God hears our prayers the moment we turn back to him. Some never do turn back. But if you will, he remembers his covenant.
How should we return to God? Nehemiah 1:5 (NIV) instructs us. We come to God extolling his power and goodness. "O Lord, God of heaven, the great and awesome God who keeps his covenant of love with those who love him and obey his commands..."
Confession is the beginning of rescue.
We come confessing our own sin, our own wickedness. Confession is the beginning of rescue. Nehemiah could have listed all the offenses of the evil Babylonians, but he begins with confessing his own sin. Nehemiah 1:6-7 (NIV) says, "I confess the sins we Israelites, including myself and my father's house, have committed against you. We have acted very wickedly toward you. We have not obeyed the commands, decrees, and laws you gave your servant Moses."
God sees us in our struggle, and is responsive to our faith when we cry out to him. But that cry must be sincere. And there is no promise of blessing, or salvation, or deliverance for those who would continue in their sin. Redemption begins with confession and repentance. It's not just our perpetrators, but it's all of us who have sinned.
God rescues his people.
We've already seen in the Psalms that God is sovereign, and that he rules from his throne in heaven. God doesn't change like the shifting shadows. God is powerful to save us from immediate danger. He is powerful enough to save us from the ultimate danger, which is eternal judgment.
But how does God rescue us? God always rescues us according to his time, according to his set purpose, in his way, not our way, using us fully, and not excusing us in the process. In the days of Nehemiah he first raised up Ezra, who was a scribe. Ezra returned to Jerusalem first and renewed the people's knowledge of the scriptures. Then God raised up Nehemiah, who came and mobilized citizens in Jerusalem to rebuild their great city. Then God raised up fathers and their families to rebuild their city. And then he had those same fathers lead their families. As Ezra read the law, they instilled it in their families.
When God rescues us, he always uses us in the process. We are not passive participants in our rescue. We hear the word. We repent. We confess our sins. We cry out to God in prayer. We enter into covenant with God, signified by our baptism, and sealed by the Holy Spirit. We receive forgiveness. We walk in obedience, by faith, not by sight, as God leads us.
God is our refuge.
Even though danger is imminent, God often chooses to hold us in his strength instead. This is the case in the story of Nehemiah. The Israelites didn't experience immediate deliverance. Instead, as they fortified their city walls God was right beside them, fortifying their faith. The builders had to learn to put their faith in God, even as their enemies taunted them, ridiculed them, and threatened them. And the threats were very real.
In Nehemiah 4:19-20 (NIV) with the threat of attack looming large, Nehemiah charges the nobles and officials and the people, "The work is extensive and spread out, and we are widely separated from each other along the wall. Wherever you hear the sound of the trumpet, join us there. Our God will fight for us!"
I love Psalm 46:1-3 (NIV) which says, "God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging."
God's power and good isn't always evidenced in deliverance from evil. Often it's evidenced by what we experience in the presence of evil. God is our refuge, our strength, and an ever-present help. He causes us to stand up.
God is redeemer.
We know that God loves justice. We know the destiny of the wicked. Why then doesn't God rain down burning coal and sulfur on all our enemies? Why didn't God send legions of angels to completely decimate the evil Romans and Jews that were crucifying his one and only Son? You won't like the answer.
2 Peter 3:9 (NIV) says, "The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance."
"Anyone" includes both the perpetrated and the perpetrator, both the victim and the violator. Jesus Christ didn't come to annihilate the wicked. For many, redemption is synonymous with revenge. Redemption is a bullet in Bin Laden's scull, Saddam Hussein hanging from the gallows, terrorists, murderers, and abusers burning in hell. But that is not redemption, that is judgment.
Redemption is Christ Jesus praying for his terrorists, "Father, forgive them." This was not because they had repented of their sins, or confessed their evildoings, but for the possibility that they would repent, they would confess, and they would be saved on the last day.
God's power is sufficient not just to rescue us, but to redeem the evildoers who oppress us. To be rescued, we have to open ourselves to God's mercy, but then we have to trust in God as he waits patiently in the hope of showering his mercy on our enemies as well. His ways are not our ways. His ways are higher than our ways. Pray for your enemies.
God remembers. God rescues. God is our refuge. God is the redeemer of all.