A Cunning Plan

Oh yes, there are already those of you who are thinking of Baldrick and Blackadder when you see the phrase 'a cunning plan'. It is no accident, however, that these three words are associated with power and the promulgation of perilous plans.

That's because the words 'king' and 'cunning' come from the same root. The qualities of a king are, taken as one group, something called 'cunning' or 'kingship'. This is probably why the Bible as a whole is not too keen on human kings, since these tend to display the more venal side of kingship.

Take for example the duties of a king as set out provisionally in Deuteronomy 17. It's very clear; do not set up as king one who is not your brother, make sure he is not imperialistic or grasping in any sense. These are all restrictions on human kingship, designed to pave the way for an ideal which was the plan from the first Adam.

But the consequences of not keeping within these restrictions are interesting. God tells Samuel what will happen in I Samuel 8. A king whose prowess is not fettered will make use of the state to further his goals. Such a king is no servant, but a tyrant. The ideal vision is quite different; it can be found in Isaiah 32; here is a king who reigns in justice and is a shelter, a nurturer, the source of good things and the greener of a barren land.

Sometimes I think that the limitation of reading tiny bits of the Bible each day is that one doesn't see the whole picture. Once in a while, many small bits should be put together to give the overall picture. Simple logic can be used in hermeneutic context. For example: a) the eagle is an unclean bird, b) you should not put up graven images of any kinds of animals... oops, but I've said enough about such things in other posts.

To summarise, cunning is kingship; kingship is cunning. But when you engineer your cunning plans, O leaders of this world, make sure that they are plans worthy of a King.

The Return Of The Jehudi

We all know that George Lucas is of German origin. Fewer of us know that the word Jedi so beloved of Lucasfilm fans comes from the German Jehudi, which means 'Jew' – and by extension, Israelite.

So, what of it? Why bring this up, a long time ago and a galaxy far, far away?

It's because of this passage which I was abruptly reminded of when it appeared on my screen just a short while ago. Deuternonomy 17:14-20 reads:

When you enter the land the LORD your God is giving you and have taken possession of it and settled in it, and you say, "Let us set a king over us like all the nations around us," be sure to appoint over you the king the LORD your God chooses. He must be from among your own brothers. Do not place a foreigner over you, one who is not a brother Israelite.

The king, moreover, must not acquire great numbers of horses for himself or make the people return to Egypt to get more of them, for the LORD has told you, "You are not to go back that way again." He must not take many wives, or his heart will be led astray. He must not accumulate large amounts of silver and gold.

When he takes the throne of his kingdom, he is to write for himself on a scroll a copy of this law, taken from that of the priests, who are Levites. It is to be with him, and he is to read it all the days of his life so that he may learn to revere the LORD his God and follow carefully all the words of this law and these decrees and not consider himself better than his brothers and turn from the law to the right or to the left. Then he and his descendants will reign a long time over his kingdom in Israel.

In a sense, God appoints all those in dominion over us. But as Samuel found out, sometimes God allows us to appoint those who should be in power over us, and it is not always a happy thing. Free will can lead to disappointment. As I meditate on any passage of the Bible presented to me, I try to determine its relevance to my current situation.

This evening, the August Personage posed this question: "Do you love your country?" Reading the above passage and applying the appropriate transformation to the local situtation, it is hard to come to a definitive conclusion which would be politically acceptable. It is very difficult when people ask me questions like that.

How do you respond to, "Do you love your family?" or "Do you love your work?" or "Do you love your company?" The answer is normally one which might be instinctive, but not entirely truthful or exact.

So what level of clarity is demanded in the interpretation of the text? I choose to take careful note of the terms and conditions set out, a watching brief perhaps; but am I required to act on it? It is a hard path to travel, a difficult road to walk. It fills me with the ash of a long and bitter fire.