Abraham said, “I just assumed that there was no fear of God in this place and that they’d kill me to get my wife. Besides, the truth is that she is my half sister; she’s my father’s daughter but not my mother’s. When God sent me out as a wanderer from my father’s home, I told her, ‘Do me a favor; wherever we go, tell people that I’m your brother.’”
Malachi 3:5The Message“Yes, I’m on my way to visit you with Judgment. I’ll present compelling evidence against sorcerers, adulterers, liars, those who exploit workers, those who take advantage of widows and orphans, those who are inhospitable to the homeless—anyone and everyone who doesn’t honor me.” A Message from God-of-the-Angel-Armies. * * * See the chapter |
63 Cross References
On the third day, Joseph spoke to them. “Do this and you’ll live. I’m a God-fearing man. If you’re as honest as you say you are, one of your brothers will stay here in jail while the rest of you take the food back to your hungry families. But you have to bring your youngest brother back to me, confirming the truth of your speech—and not one of you will die.” They agreed.
The God-rebel tunes in to sedition— all ears, eager to sin. He has no regard for God, he stands insolent before him. He has smooth-talked himself into believing That his evil will never be noticed. Words gutter from his mouth, dishwater dirty. Can’t remember when he did anything decent. Every time he goes to bed, he fathers another evil plot. When he’s loose on the streets, nobody’s safe. He plays with fire and doesn’t care who gets burned.
“But you, children of a witch, come here! Sons of a slut, daughters of a whore. What business do you have taunting, sneering, and sticking out your tongue? Do you have any idea what wretches you’ve turned out to be? A race of rebels, a generation of liars. You satisfy your lust any place you find some shade and fornicate at whim. You kill your children at any convenient spot— any cave or crevasse will do. You take stones from the creek and set up your sex-and-religion shrines. You’ve chosen your fate. Your worship will be your doom. You’ve climbed a high mountain to practice your foul sex-and-death religion. Behind closed doors you assemble your precious gods and goddesses. Deserting me, you’ve gone all out, stripped down and made your bed your place of worship. You’ve climbed into bed with the ‘sacred’ whores and loved every minute of it, adoring every curve of their naked bodies. You anoint your king-god with ointments and lavish perfumes on yourselves. You send scouts to search out the latest in religion, send them all the way to hell and back. You wear yourselves out trying the new and the different, and never see what a waste it all is. You’ve always found strength for the latest fad, never got tired of trying new religions.
Now for what God says regarding the lying prophets: “Can you believe it? A country teeming with adulterers! faithless, promiscuous idolater-adulterers! They’re a curse on the land. The land’s a wasteland. Their unfaithfulness is turning the country into a cesspool, Prophets and priests devoted to desecration. They have nothing to do with me as their God. My very own Temple, mind you— mud-spattered with their crimes.” God’s Decree. “But they won’t get by with it. They’ll find themselves on a slippery slope, Careening into the darkness, somersaulting into the pitch-black dark. I’ll make them pay for their crimes. It will be the Year of Doom.” God’s Decree. * * *
“‘So don’t for a minute listen to all your prophets and spiritualists and fortunetellers, who claim to know the future and who tell you not to give in to the king of Babylon. They’re handing you a line of lies, barefaced lies, that will end up putting you in exile far from home. I myself will drive you out of your lands, and that’ll be the end of you. But the nation that accepts the yoke of the king of Babylon and does what he says, I’ll let that nation stay right where it is, minding its own business.’”
God, you’re from eternity, aren’t you? Holy God, we aren’t going to die, are we? God, you chose Babylonians for your judgment work? Rock-Solid God, you gave them the job of discipline? But you can’t be serious! You can’t condone evil! So why don’t you do something about this? Why are you silent now? This outrage! Evil men swallow up the righteous and you stand around and watch! * * *
“Isn’t it true that a son honors his father and a worker his master? So if I’m your Father, where’s the honor? If I’m your Master, where’s the respect?” God-of-the-Angel-Armies is calling you on the carpet: “You priests despise me! “You say, ‘Not so! How do we despise you?’ “By your shoddy, sloppy, defiling worship. “You ask, ‘What do you mean, “defiling”? What’s defiling about it?’
Don’t run roughshod over the concerns of your brothers and sisters. Their concerns are God’s concerns, and he will take care of them. We’ve warned you about this before. God hasn’t invited us into a disorderly, grungy life but into something holy and beautiful—as beautiful on the inside as the outside.
All the workers you’ve exploited and cheated cry out for judgment. The groans of the workers you used and abused are a roar in the ears of the Master Avenger. You’ve looted the earth and lived it up. But all you’ll have to show for it is a fatter than usual corpse. In fact, what you’ve done is condemn and murder perfectly good persons, who stand there and take it. * * *
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