The reading this morning was
from the Old Testament; the book of
Daniel; the story of Shadrach, Meshach
and Abednego (I thought it was Abendigo when I was a kid).
It’s one of the best stories
in the OT Bible (for those “unversed” in the Bible, the Old Testament is the “Jewish”
bit (especially the first 5 books where God sets down the rules he makes for
His people). In all honesty, I struggle with a lot of the stuff it
contains; the bits about God going
before and helping the Israelites plunder and enslave other nations, for
example. I guess that’s why we need the
New Covenant of the forgiveness and sacrifice of Christ contained in the New
Testament (this is the Christian bit of the Bible).
The OT also has themes, over
and over, of penitence and forgiveness and reconciliation. It also has stories of God’s immeasurable
power and intent to stick up for the little bloke; the oppressed; the disempowered; the put-upon.
The story of Shadrach,
Meshach and Abednego is one such a story.
Daniel Chapter 3. It tells of
these 3 men, who would not bow down to worship the golden calf, fashioned by
human hands, and as ordered by the king of the land, Nebuchadnezzar. Instead,
they declare their intention to be thrown into the fiery furnace and die, rather
than denounce their faith in Yahweh; the great I AM; the God of Abraham; the Alpha and the Omega. So, they get thrown into the furnace.
As I read it this morning, I
thought again of Rev Whorley (pronounced Whirley). He was the Methodist
Minister at Forbes, NSW, in Australia, in the 50’s when I was a little girl. He
would come to Eugowra to preach in the little Presbyterian Church on the banks
of the Mandagery Creek (running a banker in recent days).
He was a little man; mild in
character and gentle in nature. He was a man of the people, woven from common
cloth. He was a bit funny-looking as I
remember, but Oh, he had found his vocation:
he had a genuine, fervent faith.
He took Scripture at Eugowra
Central School and I’m sure he told this story because my memory of him arose
from the page as I read it this morning.
I’m pretty sure, too, it was covered in the Salvation Army Home for
Girls at Canowindra. What a happy place it
was for me; child-sized Sunday School
chairs painted all different pastel colours;
little basket to take up the collection (“hear the pennies dropping;
listen as they fall…); a sense of open,
airy space in the big room, with shiny lino and big windows.
These all impacted my life,
in a mainly positive way. They set me on
a faith journey which I’m still following to-day. I wonder what I’d be like now
if I had never heard this most profound of gospels, passed on by these kindly,
gentle people?
Back to our 3 saints: The story has it that when the 3 are thrown
into the furnace, God (in the form of Jesus) enters the furnace with them and
they are seen; the 4 figures, walking
around unburned, unconsumed, as God protects them. I have not doubt God could do this; I also know He often doesn’t intervene and
many Christians over the millennia have died, rather than deny their faith.
One thing I do know and
understand deep into my very soul, is that when we go through our own fires in
life, whether they be the death of a loved one, or illness or relationship conflict,
or whatever else ails the human soul, God will be there, figuratively, in the
fire, with those who invite Him to be there with them. The same God who got into the furnace with
Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, is the same God who said ”Lo! I am with you
always, even to the end of the age”.
In an increasingly unstable
and scary world, the one who promises “I will never leave you or forsake you”,
is becoming increasingly meaningful, not just to me, but surely, to the rest of
the world.
