Everyone claims that they long for peace
But then see how they crave contention with the “other side”
And even cheer for acts of violence against them.
They are not open about their lust for savagery
They are restrained only by the need to maintain appearances.
But one day, they will not feel that restraint any longer
And then the true terrors will begin.
18 And if men strive together, and one smite another with a stone, or with his fist, and he die not, but keepeth his bed:
19 If he rise again, and walk abroad upon his staff, then shall he that smote him be quit: only he shall pay for the loss of his time, and shall cause him to be thoroughly healed.
20 And if a man smite his servant, or his maid, with a rod, and he die under his hand; he shall be surely punished.
21 Notwithstanding, if he continue a day or two, he shall not be punished: for he is his money.
Today we have rules for a killing that was not directly intended, but which did arise from violence. The killer was not so innocent as if he had carelessly dropped a brick off a roof when a man walked underneath, but he was not so guilty as if he had carried out a premeditated murder.
Forceful violence always has the chance of causing death, but it is not a sure thing. So, too, the attacker’s fate would remain unsure until the outcome of his actions fully played out. If the man that he struck survived, then the attacker would have to pay to cover the man’s lost time and see him thoroughly healed. If the victim should die, though, then the attacker would be put to death, the same as a murderer, for that is what fate determined him to be.
These same punishments are then echoed for a master who beat his servant. Note that verse 20 only says that the master would be “punished” for killing a servant, without specifying what that punishment would be. In the Talmud, though, it is specified that the punishment was still death, the same as against a free man. Also, since the servant or his family would have already been paid for his service, then the master would simply eat the cost for his own brutality. The servant would not lose any earnings for the missed days’ labor.
In my scripture studies I have been making my way through the early chapters of Exodus, in which we read the story of God sending His plagues against the people of Egypt, afflicting them until finally they let the Israelites go. Recently I noted how these chapters show the side of God that is a God of vengeance. It has stood out to me a great deal just how vicious God’s breaking of Pharaoh and the Egyptians was.
God began the whole affair by summoning forth the blood of the innocent Israelite babes thrown into the river, symbolizing that He was about to require the same blood of the Egyptian people. He then procedurally and strategically took from the Egyptians their comfort, their health, their wealth, their sacred animals, and their safety. He announced that He had propped the entire nation up for the express purpose of beating it down in the sight of all the world. When finally He brought His death upon them, He made sure to take someone from each and every household, ensuring that all of the Egyptians had their hearts broken in the very same night.
One cannot seriously meditate on this story without being moved by the absolute devastation God inflicted upon those people. And more meaningful than the size of the devastation was just how methodical and purposeful it all was. God really knew just how, where, and when to intimidate, to apply pressure, and to break.
Personally, seeing this view of God does not disturb me. I have always understood and been comfortable with the view that God is to be trusted by the righteous, but feared by the wicked. I know that God endeavors to save the sinner, for He saved me. But before my time of repentance He stood against me and afflicted me, and never did I resent Him for that. I have come to see that the nature of my sins is that they inevitably lead to hurting others, especially those that I love most, and in those moments I am absolutely deserving of God’s judgment and punishment.
Granted, God hasn’t visited me with so great of curses as He did the Egyptians, but neither have I killed thousands of innocent babes as they did. I know that some people struggle with the magnitude of God’s punishments in the Old Testament, but when I read the accounts that are given I do not see that He did anything that was unwarranted. Yes, He smote Sodom and Gomorrah, and Egypt, and the various nations who possessed the land of Canaan, but we also know that they were given to all manner of cruelty and perversion. Many of them worshipped pagan gods which demanded horrifying and barbaric practices, such as the sacrifice of living children!
The fact is, if we struggle to understand the good in a God who uses great power in attacking the wicked and defending the righteous, it is only because we live a life that is so safe and secure that we cannot fathom the horrors of darkness that God has historically stood against.
In general, as a people today we have no firsthand knowledge of what it is like to live without a powerful government to protect us, or to spend our entire life as a slave to another, or to have no welfare support if we become sick or injured, or to be surrounded by a culture that doesn’t believe in the basic dignity of every person, or to be at the mercy of wild animals and natural elements, or to have the necessity of doing hard labor all day just to have enough food and shelter to survive, or to be constantly be at risk of being slaughtered by a roaming army. Some of the most unfortunate among us might encounter just one or two of these daily realities of ancient life, but overall we are left only to our imaginations of how such an existence must have been.
When one is as vulnerable, persecuted, and afraid as the ancient Israelites then, and only then, can one truly judge whether God’s mighty hand against the Egyptians was a good thing or not.
Raising a voice in anger, using insulting language, and swearing exhaust all forms of fear and coercion that we can impose on another before all that remains is to become physically violent. Shouting at other people communicates that we are one step from physically hurting them.
Shouting is, of course an antagonistic form of persuasion, as opposed to friendly forms of persuasion like reasoning, convincing, and offering. Shouting is to get the other person to give us what we want, though it personally hurts them to do it. As such, shouting communicates: that we are an antagonist, an enemy, a hater of the person. We can say that we do not hate the other just because we are shouting at them, but the message that others will receive is clear.
I have watched two people reassure one another of their friendship even in the middle of a shouting match, but as shouting became the standard form of communication between them, soon all talk of friendship ceased and they angrily parted ways. One must understand that whenever they raise a voice in anger, they raise the risk of ending the relationship forever. How often is that worth getting what we want in the moment?
So do we really mean to imply all that we imply when we shout at another person? Do we really want to tell our kids, our spouse, our friends, our coworkers, or our neighbors that we are their enemy, that we hate them, and that we are close to violence? Do we want to tell that to strangers and acquaintances just because they make a mistake or a social gaffe towards us? Do we even want to tell that to social rivals just because they have deeply held beliefs that contradict our own? When another person shouts at us first, does even that justify us in showing them the same message of hate in return?
Certainly we are justified to reason, to correct, to call out, and to oppose at all times. I would even say that at certain times there are those individuals and situations that are deserving of the threat of violence and hatred that we give in an angry shout, but these are very far and few between.
But we were troubled on every side; without were fightings, within were fears.
And when the servant of the man of God was risen early, and gone forth, behold, an host compassed the city both with horses and chariots. And his servant said unto him, Alas, my master! how shall we do?
And he answered, Fear not: for they that be with us are more than they that be with them.
And Elisha prayed, and said, Lord, I pray thee, open his eyes, that he may see. And the Lord opened the eyes of the young man; and he saw: and, behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire round about Elisha.
COMMENTARY
Behold, an host compassed the city both with horses and chariots. And his servant said unto him, Alas, my master! how shall we do?
Fear may be considered as nothing more than the realization that the world possesses more power than us. And that power, if turned against us, we are powerless to resist. Whatever securities we obtain, we know that they are insufficient if enough opposition comes to bear.
When one does not believe in God or His power then fear is the only natural response. Belief in God and His power is, by definition, faith, and so fear is the result of an absence of faith. Elisha’s servant could not see God’s presence in the world, and so he was left to fear. With his limited perspective that was all he could feel.
Without were fightings, within were fears
I find it very illuminating how this scripture casts violence as the outward manifestation of an inward fear. Those that have acknowledged the awful power of the world often then try to use it to gain power over others. They have felt its ability to bend them, and they know that if they can be made afraid others can as well.
And so after being made afraid we perform all manner of violent behaviors in an attempt to promulgate that same fear into others. A vicious cycle begins, one where we try to shore up against that which we cannot control by domineering over all that we can.
Spiritual Wanderings 