Can the Bible equip us to face economic and political crises in our day? It can. The Psalms, the varied histories of the kings of Israel and Judah, and the Gospels, taken together, are a strong knot tying us to God. And they won't yield, however great the strain of circumstances. For example, Psalm 46 thunders: "The heathen raged, the kingdoms were moved: he uttered his voice, the earth melted. The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge" (verses 6 and 7). The New English Bible renders the beginning and ending of the text: "Nations are in tumult, kingdoms hurled down; ... The Lord of Hosts is with us, the God of Jacob our high stronghold." These words describe the solubility of all that is earthly and insist on the impermeable reality of God. This reality "is our refuge" or "stronghold"—both words pointing to the Hebrew misgab, meaning a lofty or inaccessible place.
One of the most striking examples of the safe place provided by God, divine Love, is the narrative in Second Kings chapters 11-14 (retold in Second Chronicles 22 and 23) about the boy-prince Joash (alternately called Jehoash). According to one Bible dictionary his name means "Jehovah is strong." Born at the end of the ninth century BC in an era of competing national, economic, and religious interests, Joash is still an infant when his father, King Ahaziah of Judah, dies. In the ensuing period without a ruler, King Ahaziah's mother, Athaliah, "destroyed all the seed royal" (II Kings 11:1)—in other words, all competitors for power, including her own children and grandchildren. Or so she thought. Athaliah was the daughter of Ahab and Jezebel, and, like her mother, Athaliah was a bold devotee of the Phoenician god Baal. Her dead son, King Ahaziah, had followed the idolatrous policies of his family.
During what must have been a period of uncertainty and chaos in Jerusalem, the infant heir, King Ahaziah's son Joash, is snatched out of harm's way and sheltered in an improbable, but altogether fitting, place. Jehosheba, the dead king's sister, steals the baby and his nurse away to safety. She conceals them in the temple, a refuge that symbolizes and embodies God's covenant with his people. The sympathetic Jehoiada, Jehosheba's husband, is high priest there, and for the next six years he protects the young prince.
Joash is seven years old when Jehoiada the priest (with the cooperation of the royal guards) moves decisively against Athaliah, Joash's grandmother. Jehoiada dramatically brings the boy out of hiding and presents him in the temple as rightful heir to the throne of David. There is irony in the outrage of the usurper queen when she discovers that her reign is about to end: "Athaliah rent her clothes, and cried, Treason, Treason" (II Kings 11:14).
Joash's reign is long, and he "did that which was right in the sight of the Lord" (II Kings 12:2), as long as the high priest Jehoiada lived and advised him. Significantly, the most important acts of Joash are financial. He restructures the method by which maintenance of the temple is financed to make it more equitable and to avoid conflicts of interest (see II Kings 12:4–16). He also makes the difficult decision to stave off an attack on Jerusalem by sacrificing some of the temple's most important assets and part of his own fortune in tribute to the king of Syria (see II Kings 12:17, 18).
When Joash first assumes power, "all the people of the land rejoiced, and the city was in quiet" (II Kings 11:20). Imagine the tremendous relief that accompanied such unexpected developments! The most brazen effort to derail the succession of the descendants of King David had failed. During all the years of protracted crisis, an answer to the people's prayers for freedom, Joash, was growing to readiness, hidden in the temple, the very place where they looked to God for help. What would have happened if Jehosheba, the young king's aunt, or Jehoiada, the high priest, had been overwhelmed by what must have seemed insurmountable odds against them to protect the infant heir? Their own activities and freedoms must have seemed quite circumscribed during those six preparatory years, but they were sheltering God's gift to His people. Their purpose must have kept them close to the temple, stronghold of the presence and power of God. Perhaps they knew the words of Psalm 46, which begins: "God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore will not we fear."
No condition, however extreme, can outlast the everlasting God.
The fiduciary obligations Joash responsibly fulfills during his 40–year reign point to the covenant between the kingdom of Judah and God, the divine Principle, Love. While the compilers of the Old Testament may have been aware of many economic, social, and political forces, they also insisted on these unvarying laws of cause and effect: obeying God brought prosperity; turning away from Him brought ruin. This was the spiritual basis for economic and political security.
The New Testament Gospels expand on this perspective. Instead of "the covenant" between God and His people referred to in the Old Testament, Jesus often speaks of "the kingdom" where only his Father reigns. While Jehosheba's rescue of the infant Joash saved the Davidic line at a time of great threat, Jesus taught the fuller significance of God's promise to David—an eternal line of spiritual inheritance. This permanent link to "Our Father," the divine Father of us all, brought Jesus' followers close to God. Understanding this link made them know that they were sons and daughters, that the One they belonged to—and what by reflection belonged to them—was irreducible. As the Psalmist sang of God's city, or people, "God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved: God shall help her, and that right early" (46:5).
Even in crises, Jesus knew God was his help. The Master offered that same lesson both to those who tried to destroy him and to those who tried to deny him. Judas Iscariot, one of the inner circle of Jesus' 12 disciples, was in the first category. He seemed to think it better "to reign in Hell, than serve in Heav'n" (Paradise Lost, Book 1, Milton). Judas's materiality included the malfeasance that caused him to drain the common purse of the disciples and then to cover his crime with high-minded cant (see John 12:3–6). Then there was Jesus' disciple Peter, who, after proclaiming loyalty to Jesus even if threatened with death, backed out of his commitment under comparatively mild provocation (see Matt. 26:33–35 and 69–75). Jesus handled both situations carefully. His sorrowful insight into Judas's character must have told Jesus that this disciple's greed and dishonesty would bring about his self-destruction before any reconciliation with Judas in person was possible.
God shielded Jesus from his enemies, even after his crucifixion, and in a place even more remarkable than a temple—a tomb—until his resurrection. On that radiant day, except for Judas, all those who had conspired against Jesus seemed to be just as much in charge as they had been on the day of Jesus' crucifixion. Yet Jesus said, "All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth" (Matt. 28:18). He used that power of divine Love to restore Peter to his place among the disciples. Instead of demanding an extravagant display of contrition by Peter for his denial, or planning retribution, Jesus asked Peter if he loved him. When Peter answered in the affirmative, Jesus explained what Peter must do to love more (see John 21:15–17).
What do the current economic meltdown and accompanying political crises have to do with these narratives from the Bible? How can the survival of a smuggled prince and the compassion of the risen Jesus serve as guideposts to lead us out of tumultuous times? At the heart of all these accounts we find people with remarkable expectancy and the willingness to wait for events to reveal themselves—and all pointing to the omnipotence of divine Principle, Love. From these accounts we realize that no condition, however extreme, can outlast the everlasting God. No plunge or rise of markets, no dishonest or cowardly dealings, no threat of instability, can weaken the strength of Principle. "Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth" (Ps. 46:10) is an imperative promise to us today—and in all ages to come.
