Contrasts

1 Samuel 2:18-26            Psalm 148        Colossians 3:12-17       John 1:1-14

Contrasts

The word ‘contrast’ often simply means one thing as opposed to another…or as one dictionary defines it: the state of being strikingly different from something else in juxtaposition or close association.

Most often, the word is used to compare opposites, like black and white, night and day, success and failure. The word can be used to illustrate differences that help us better understand an idea or concept or something that helps us see more clearly. A material example of the latter would be the contrast between black ink on white paper that makes for easier reading. Black ink on black paper would not be very helpful, would it? Contrasts are needed to aid us in understanding in the same way as the black ink and the white paper help us to read.

But contrasts are not always made between opposites. Things that are in one way similar and yet different can also be contrasted for the sake of distinction, clarification, or interpretation. One simple example would be the contrast between a cat and a dog. Cats and dogs are similar in the sense that they are both classified as animals, but they are also definite contrasts because they are very different…different but not opposites. In this case, contrasts help us to classify and to describe things that are similar and yet dissimilar. 

In telling stories, contrasts are used to make a point. For instance, John used the contrast of light and darkness to illustrate the power of the incarnation…that the coming of Jesus ushered in the dawning of a new era of liberty from captivity. Blessing eradicates the curse in the same way that light dispels the darkness, or as a favorite carol of mine states so eloquently: He came to make his blessings flow far as the curse is found. The aim of contrasting light with darkness helps us understand the greatness of this event we call Christmas. God has turned the light on, so to speak, and anyone who has ever stubbed their toe while groping about in the dark will know exactly what that means…no more stumbling about in the search for clarity or certainty in our reality. Or to put it another way, the incarnation exposes error as much as it illuminates truth. The contrast could not be clearer.

 But how sad it is when that which is meant to shine out the light becomes part of the darkness. Contrast is never needed more than when what ought to be dissimilar looks awfully similar. The lack of contrast confuses, befuddles, and bewilders. When the light goes off, things cannot be seen clearly. People are rendered blind and are consequently led astray by others who are equally blind when neither have clear vision due to the lack of light. When all things are considered relative and open to individual experience and interpretation, truth becomes meaningless as it no longer has any substance. 

And while we expect such elastic philosophies or illogical beliefs from those who have not yet encountered the light, we are perplexed when they creep into the one institution that ought to uphold the faith once delivered, so to speak. What do we do when those who are meant to be the salt of the earth lose their saltiness? When those who have been set apart are as unholy in life as those who have not been set apart? When the followers of Christ no longer reflect the character or the mind of the one they claim to follow? 

The opening chapters of the First Book of Samuel present us with two stark contrasts. The first contrast is that between Hannah and the old priest Eli. While Hannah is very specific and active in her prayers and enthusiastically faithful in the fulfilment her promise, Eli appears to be apathetic, complacent, and indifferent. His attitude and lack of positive response to the complaints of the people and the inevitable divine judgment announced by the boy Samuel, displays a lack of faithfulness in his priestly promise and duty to uphold the law of God as far as the behavior of his two sons in the Tabernacle is concerned. 

The second contrast is between Eli’s sons, Hophni and Phineas, and Hanna’s son, Samuel. Not only were his sons breaking the laws regarding sacrifices, but they were also breaking the laws regarding purity and morality…and everyone knew about it. They were so arrogant and flagrant in their abuses that they did not attempt to cover up their offenses nor deny them when challenged. Why? Because, as the literal translation of the Hebrew in verse 12 of chapter 2, states “They did not know God.” Now, think on this for a moment. The representatives of God did not know God. And the people of God suffered…as the proverb says, the bad trees bore bad fruit and consequently, instead of being sustained spiritually, all in Israel were starving. 

But the contrast between the brothers and Samuel provides us with a ray of hope. His presence in the Tabernacle is like a light shining in the darkness. This seemingly insignificant child born to an otherwise insignificant and ordinary barren woman from an insignificant backwater town, represents the silent, behind-the-scenes work of God. There was no major political campaign, no major prophetic speech, and so, as far as the people of God were concerned, things seemed to be moving forward in very much the same way they had for years. Nothing appeared to be changing. Eli’s sons still dominated the arena of the religious establishment and still misled and abused the sheep of God’s pasture…ravenous wolves disguised in shepherd’s clothing. 

But moving in unnoticed from the silent shadows was a new leader…a child who would grow up to govern the people of Israel. Here is the contrast that helps us see things more clearly…the work of God is seldom flashy or noisy. He moves in mysterious and unexpected ways to bring about a major shift in power. He had his man right there…even in the midst of the darkness…in the compromised and defiled Tabernacle itself, waiting for the fullness of time to arrive. 

Commentator, Dale Ralph Davis tells a marvelous story of a B-17 bomber that had been hit in the fuel tank by antiaircraft flak, surprisingly without ill effect. When the eleven unexploded shells were taken to the armorers to be diffused, they found them all empty except one. One of the shells contained a rolled-up note written in Czech. It simply stated, “This is all we can do for you now.” Apparently, some Czechs who had been compelled to work in a Nazi munitions plant, were quietly helping the allies by removing the explosive chargers.

God’s help often slips in soundlessly, behind the scenes, as it were, but when it does come, the effect is lifechanging. Eli’s sons were killed in battle and, upon hearing the news that the Ark of God had been captured, Eli fell over backwards from a high stool and broke his neck. But Samuel was already present in the Tabernacle…ready to step into the vacuum to lead God’s people justly and rightly.

One of the things that has intrigued me over the years is that John used a very interesting word to describe the incarnation of Jesus. It is the word ‘tabernacled’ (a verb form of the noun ‘Tabernacle’) usually translated as ‘dwelt with us’ or ‘lived among us’. I must confess that until writing this talk, I have only ever connected this word with the position of the Tabernacle in the middle of the Israelite camp during the Exodus. I had always thought that John was trying to tell us that by assuming human form, Jesus had come to take up his place among us in our own wilderness wanderings, just as God had come to live among His people in the desert to lead them on to the Promised Land. 

But while comparing the story of Samuel with the story of Jesus, I saw several more parallels. Like the coming of Samuel to the Tabernacle, the coming of the Messiah happened very much in the background…an insignificant young virgin (in one sense a barren woman), from an insignificant backwater town, giving birth to a seemingly insignificant child, not in a palace nor in the holy city of Jerusalem, but rather in a place considered insignificant at the time (if you recall the words of the prophet Micah from last Sunday) away from anything that would have been thought of as the echelons of power in their day.

And just like the child Samuel quietly lived among the people of Israel in the Tabernacle, while Eli, Hophni, and Phineas were still alive, so Jesus was in the world, yet the world knew nothing about him. Even when he entered the public arena, so to speak, he was rejected by many, simply because he did not fit into their preconceived ideas. As in the days of Samuel, there were some who knew all about the corrupt state of the priesthood but said little or nothing because they either loved the praise of others or because they were afraid of others. The Pharisees and Sadducees, the Chief Priests and the Scribes added to the heavy burdens of the people with their legalistic interpretations of the law. Corruption was rife. The High Priests were hired and fired by the pagan Roman government to do their bidding and to keep the peace, which was, more often than not, quite fragile. The Sadducees lined their pockets through temple taxation and sacrifices sold at inflated prices. We can only imagine what the people thought…would God never rescue them? Had he forgotten about them? Was he angry with them or had he abandoned them? Did he even hear their cry for mercy?

But silently God was working out his purposes. One day, this seemingly insignificant child…this unlearned rabbi from an unimportant village…would triumph over darkness and sit down at the right hand of universal power to rule and reign over everything and everyone. 

This kind of unobserved intervention has often been the Lord’s way of redemption, and we would do well to learn from it. There are countless examples in history…Joseph the imprisoned slave in Egypt, Moses the forgotten foundling in Midian, Samuel the servant of Eli, David the youngest son of Jesse…and Jesus the controversial rabbi from nowhere. 

May I ask you, dearest beloved brothers and sisters, where is God in your lives right now? Is he silent? Is he ostensibly absent? Are you wondering if he hears you? Have you thought that he might have abandoned you? Or that he might not care for you? 

If so, then consider this. The light that entered the world on Christmas day allowed himself to be extinguished by those who loved darkness more than light so that he might overcome the darkness once and for all, for you and for me through his resurrection from the dead. They did not see his light then…many still do not see his light today…but the contrast between those who have seen and embraced his light and those who have not, is so startlingly illuminating that it cannot be ignored. Believers down through the ages, who have retained their distinctiveness despite opposition and pressure to conform…who have not lost their saltiness…they continued to bask in the warmth of his light even in the midst of what appeared to them to be impenetrable darkness. And as they endeavored to clothe themselves with the wisdom given by God, that peace that comes from knowing Christ…the peace that transcends understanding…ruled in their hearts and minds and kept them from despair. 

We can look to both those who are now part of the great cloud of witnesses, as well as our Lord Jesus who was destined to go to the cross as silent as a lamb to the slaughter, and we can contrast their legacy with those who opposed them or rejected them or killed them. Through them, the light that came to us at Christmas, still shines on in the darkness…and nothing in all creation can ever extinguish it.

Let us pray.

© Johannes W H van der Bijl 2021