Washington, D.C. was in a panic as 70,000 Confederate troops were marching toward it just sixty miles away. The furious fighting lasted three days. As General Lee found his ammunition running low, he ordered General Pickett to make a direct attack. After an hour of murderous fire and bloody hand-to-hand combat, the Confederates were pushed back and the Battle of Gettysburg ended this day, July 3, 1863, with over 50,000 casualties. President Lincoln confided: “When everyone seemed panic-stricken … I went to my room … and got down on my knees before Almighty God and prayed.”

Federer, B. (2003). American minute. St. Louis, MO.: Amerisearch, Inc.

God: The most popular scapegoat
for our sins.
--- Mark Twain

I distrust those people
who know so well what God wants them to do,
because I notice it always coincides
with their own desires.
--- Susan B. Anthony.

... from here, there and everywhere

17 Food obtained by fraud may taste good,
but later the mouth is full of gravel.

18 After consultation, plans succeed;
so take wise advice when waging war.

Stern, D. H. (1998). Complete Jewish Bible-OE
: An English version of the Tanakh (OT) and
B'rit Hadashah (NT) (1st ed.). Clarksville, Md.: Jewish
New Testament Publications.

                         The concentration of personal sin

     Woe is me! for I am undone; because I am a man of unclean lips. --- Isaiah 6:5.

     When I get into the presence of God, I do not realize that I am a sinner in an indefinite sense; I realize the concentration of sin in a particular feature of my life. A man will say easily—‘Oh yes, I know I am a sinner,’ but when he gets into the presence of God he cannot get off with that statement. The conviction is concentrated on—‘I am this, or that, or the other.’ This is always the sign that a man or woman is in the presence of God. There is never any vague sense of sin, but the concentration of sin in some personal particular. God begins by convicting us of one thing fixed on in the mind that is prompted by His Spirit; if we will yield to His conviction on that point, He will lead us down to the great disposition of sin underneath. That is the way God always deals with us when we are consciously in His presence.

     This experience of the concentration of sin is true in the greatest and the least of saints as well as in the greatest and the least of sinners. When a man is on the first rung of the ladder of experience, he may say—‘I do not know where I have gone wrong, but the Spirit of God will point out some particular definite thing.’ The effect of the vision of the holiness of the Lord on Isaiah was to bring home to him that he was a man of unclean lips. “And he laid it upon my mouth, and said, Lo, this hath touched thy lips; and thine iniquity is taken away, and thy sin purged.” The cleansing fire had to be applied where the sin had been concentrated.

Chambers, O. (1993). My Utmost for His Highest

And the machines say, laughing
up what would have been sleeves
in the old days: ‘We are at
your service.’ ‘Take us’, we cry,

‘to the places that are far off
from yourselves.’ And so they do
at a price that is the alloy in
the thought that we cannot do without them.

Thomas, R. S. Selected poems, 1946-1968

     When should we do what others tell us to do? And when should we ignore their opinions and listen, instead, to our own inner voice? The answer of our Midrash, based on a humorous proverb, is: When two or more people tell you something, you’d better believe them. They’re probably on to something that you yourself may have missed.

     But isn’t it possible that the others, even if they be in the majority, may be wrong and that your lone voice may be right? Edgar A. Guest makes that point in his inspirational poem “It Couldn’t Be Done.”

   There are thousands to tell you that it cannot be done,
   There are thousands to prophesy failure;
   There are thousands to point out to you one by one
   The dangers that wait to assail you.
   But just buckle in with a bit of a grin,
   Just take off your coat and go to it;
   Just start in to sing as you tackle the thing
   That “cannot be done,” and you’ll do it.

     Let’s look at another text, this time from the Talmud. In Massekhet Yoma, the question is asked about a sick person fasting on Yom Kippur. The Mishnah teaches that if a doctor says someone needs to eat, we follow the doctor’s opinion. And in the absence of a physician, we rely on the sick person to make that decision. The Gemara then asks a probing question: What if the doctor says “He does not need food,” but the patient insists “I do!” Whose opinion do we follow? Rabbi Yannai rules, “We listen to the patient.” Lest you think that the individual’s opinion always prevails, the Gemara adds, “If the doctor says ‘He needs food’ and the patient says ‘I do not,’ we listen to the doctor.” Finally, Mar, son of Rav Ashi, confronts the question of multiple opinions going against the individual, “When he says ‘I need food’ even if there be a hundred who say ‘He does not need food,’ we accept his statement” (Yoma 83a). The Talmud and the poet both hold that what the individual says is central, in contrast to the Midrash, which advises us to listen to the opinion of others.

     How do we reconcile these very different approaches? We may conclude, in typical Rabbinic fashion, that each one deals with a different situation. The halakhah of fasting on Yom Kippur (the Talmud, Yoma) is interested less in who is right than in how to save a life. When death is a possibility, even a remote one, we do all that is necessary to preserve life. Who said what is immaterial.

     For our poet, on the other hand, the worst that can happen by “trying the thing that couldn’t be done” is failure, not death. There is no shame in trying and failing, especially in a worthy cause. Going against the opinions of others in such a situation might even be noble. At best, we’ll achieve success; at worst, we’ll learn a lesson that only experience can teach us.

     Which brings us back to our proverb. The Midrash is concerned not with saving a life, or doing the impossible—but with getting along with others. It’s about Hagar’s relationship with Sarai and Abram. In the end, it is important for us to know how we are perceived by the people we come in contact with. Without a mirror, it’s very hard for us to see ourselves as others do. It can be most beneficial to listen to and seriously consider what other people say.

     ANOTHER D’RASH

     Rabbi Ḥiyya said, “Come and see the difference between the early ones and the later ones.” The words of Rabbi Ḥiyya are a reminder of the tension that often exists between old and new, earlier and later. On the one hand, there is a desire to return to the past and its glory, where anything and everything old is good. On the other hand, there is an attempt to move into the future with its potential; that which is newest is best. This tension is seen in Rabbinic sources in two equally valid, yet opposing, principles in Jewish law. In one case, we say that the oldest understanding of the law is most correct. To support this stance, we call an ancient law הֲלָכָה לְמשֶׁה מִסִּינַי/halakhah leMoshe miSinai, “a law received by Moses at Sinai.” That which is closest to the giving of the law at Sinai is the most accurate. And even if we know that the law itself did not originate at Sinai, the ancient nature of the law, that it is old beyond memory, gives it instant legitimacy.

     At the same time, Jewish law has another, often contradictory, concept called הֲלָכָה כְּבַתְרַאי/halakhah ke-vatarai, the law follows the latest authority. In this case, we assume that the newest authority will have the most perspective, including all the opinions of previous generations. This last authority can make the most accurate decision using the cumulative knowledge of all previous decision-makers. Which is correct? Is it the old or the new? The ancient or the modern? Often, it depends on the situation.

     Such divergent views of old and new exist in American life as well. We say “Let’s get back to basics”—that is, let’s return to the ways of the past. Yet we also know the excitement we feel when we say “We need new technology!”—putting our stock in the most recent advances. Which is correct? Is it the old or the new? The ancient or the modern? Again, it often depends on the situation. We have to listen to both and to evaluate each situation on its own merits.

Katz, M., & Schwartz, G. Searching for Meaning in Midrash: Lessons for Everyday Living Philadelphia, PA: The Jewish Publication Society.

     Worship the LORD in the splendor of his holiness. --- Psalm 96:9

     Worship consists in the finding of my own life and the yielding of it wholly to God for the fulfillment of his purpose. The Westminster Pulpit Vol. II (2) That is worship!

     You say, “Would you tell us to find our lives? Didn’t Jesus say we must lose them?” Yes, “whoever finds his life will lose it,” but he did not finish there: “whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (Matt. 10:39), not another life, not a new life, not a new order of life—not an angel’s life, for instance, but his or her own life. The Cross is necessary, restraint is necessary, sacrifice is necessary, self-denial is necessary, but these things are all preliminary.

     And so if the Cross is absolutely necessary, and it is—your cross, my cross, my individual dying to the ambitions of selfish desire, all that is necessary—but beyond it, life. What life? My life. The new creation is but the finding of the meaning of and the fulfillment of the purposes of the first creation. “Worship the LORD in the splendor of his holiness.” Discover his law, answer his law, walk in the way of his appointing. Let him who made you lead out all the facts of your life to the fulfillment of his purpose, and then your whole life is worship.

     This [church] service is but a pause in which in word and attitude we give expression to life’s inner song. And if there is no such inner song, there is no worship here. The outward acts are the least important parts of our worship. If I have not been worshiping God for the last six days, I cannot worship him this morning. If there has been no song through my life to God, I am not prepared to sing his praise. The worship of the sanctuary is wholly meaningless and valueless except as it is preceded by and prepared for by the worship of the life.

     And it is in the service of a life, not specific acts done as apart from the life, not because I teach in Sunday school or preach here, that I worship. I may preach here today and never worship. But because my life is found in his law, is answering his call, responsive to his provision and arrangement, so, almost without knowing it, my life has become a song, a praise, an anthem. So I worship! I join the angels and all nature in worship when I become what God intends I should be.

     And so I pray that when the service is over, and Sunday has passed, we may know that in the shop, in the home and marketplace, in all the toil of the commonplaces, we can worship the Lord in the splendor of his holiness.
--- G. Campbell Morgan

Wallis, D. (2001). Take Heart: Daily Devotions with the Church's Great Preachers

     Habakkuk was a contemporary of Nahum, Zephaniah, and Jeremiah, during the reigns of Josiah (640–609 B.C.) and Jehoiakim (609–598). Assyria was off the scene; Babylon (“the Chaldeans”) was in power. Nebuchadnezzar had defeated Egypt in 605 and was about to attack Judah. Jeremiah had announced that Babylon would invade Judah, destroy Jerusalem and the temple, and send the nation into exile. This happened in 606–586.

     Habakkuk’s little book indicates that he knew the Scriptures well, was a competent theologian, and had great faith in God. Because of the psalm in chapter 3, some scholars think he may have been a priest who led worship in the temple. If so, then like Jeremiah and Ezekiel, he was a priest called to be a prophet—a more difficult ministry.

     His name means “to embrace” or “to wrestle,” and in his book, he does both. He wrestles with God concerning the problem of how a holy God could use a wicked nation like Babylon to chasten the people of Judah, and then by faith, he embraces God and clings to His promises. Habakkuk also wrestles with the spiritual decline of the nation and why God wasn’t doing something about it. Habakkuk wanted to see the people revived (3:2), but God wasn’t answering his prayers.

     The prophet’s statement “The just shall live by his faith” (2:4) is quoted three times in the New Testament (Rom. 1:17; Gal. 3:11; Heb. 10:38). The emphasis in Romans is on the just, in Galatians on how they should live, and in Hebrews on faith. It takes three books to explain and apply this one verse!

     A Suggested Outline of the Book of Habakkuk

     Key theme: The just shall live by faith
     Key verse: Habakkuk 2:4

I. The prophet wondering and worrying—(Chap. 1)

  1. God is indifferent—1:2–4
      God’s reply: I am working—1:5–11
  2. God is inconsistent—1:12–17

II. The prophet watching and waiting—(Chap. 2)

  1. Write God’s vision—2:1–3
  2. Trust God’s world—2:4–5

     “The just shall live by faith.”—2:41

  3. Declare God’s judgment—2:6–20
    (1) Woe to the selfish—2:6–8
    (2) Woe to the covetous—2:9–11
    (3) Woe to the exploiters—2:12–14

     “God’s glory will fill the earth.” 2:14
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    (4) Woe to the drunkards—2:15–17
    (5) Woe to the idolaters—2:18–20

     “God is still on His throne.” 2:20

III. The prophet worshiping and witnessing—(Chap. 3)

  1. He prays to God—3:1–2
  2. He ponders God’s ways—3:3–15
  3. He praises God—3:16–19

W. W. Wiersbe, (1996) Be Amazed (Minor Prophets): Restoring an Attitude of Wonder and Worship (The BE Series Commentary)