When I picture God’s judgement, images of an overwhelming flood, or fire and brimstone, leap to mind. You know, real wrath of God type stuff.

The prophet Hosea, however, paints a unique portrait of wrath for us, when God himself tells Hosea that, “I am like a moth to Ephraim, like rot to the people of Judah” (Hosea 5:12).

Judgement does not have to come in like a lion (also used to describe God’s wrath), as here it’s described as being eaten by a moth, or by rot, a wasting away of life and vigor. Rot slowly turns articles we value to dust, filled with holes and smelling of mildew, good only for the dumpster.

This type of judgement is slow, under our noses, within our gaze. We tend to ignore it, we don’t pause to care, we hope that it won’t catch up to us. But it does catch up, our lives face ruinous circumstances and we are forced to start over.

Consider your life. Perhaps some of the thorny issues you face, those you just wish would go away, might be attributed not merely to bad luck or faulty genes or mean people. Perhaps some of the angst in your life could be a result of God’s discipline? His judgement might come as a bolt of fire from the blue, or it might settle gently on your shoulder and begin to nibble.

What’s nibbling at you? Could God be trying to get your attention in a kinder way than you will discover years from now when the floor of your life collapses, shot through with rot? Pause. God works on you because he cares for you. Don’t ignore what he’s trying to show you, especially if it flutters by in the evening shadows, for this is how God often chooses to work.

Daniel 4

“Those who walk in pride God is able to humble“

Simply magnificent. The great city, the capitol of the world, stretched before him. He breathed in its air and listened to the sounds of commerce humming below him. He owned this town, he created it, he sustained it. As his heart swelled with pride, he understood that this city reflected his power and his glory. He prayed often to the gods, but the gods did not lift Babylon to these heights. His wisdom and strength undergirded all that lay before him. He stood like a god himself, a lord of the earth. No one compared to the king.

Just then, at the height of his revelry, a voice boomed from the heavens. To others it sounded like a mighty rumbling of thunder, but Nebuchadnezzar clearly heard these words, “the Most High is sovereign over all kingdoms on earth and gives them to anyone he wishes.” Then, to punctuate the message, the Lord condemned King Nebuchadnezzar to seven years of insanity.

Madness. Not famine on the land or invasion by an enemy nation. The punishment arrived targeted and specific. For seven years the king lived in the open countryside and ate grass like an ox, letting his hair and nails grow wild, sort of like a desert Yeti. Psychologists call his mental illness boanthropy, where a person believes they are a cow or ox. Nebuchadnezzar was the poster child for the disease. It would take seven years for the pride to drain from the king’s heart.

Pride. God hates it. We love it. From a young age we are taught to embrace our pride, but really it comes naturally. Of course, we all need a healthy self-image and we cannot grow without understanding something of God’s love for us. He sent his Son for us, we are precious in his sight, we can enjoy that sort self-esteem. But here God confronts a darker manifestation of pride, one with roots in the garden. We see ourselves on par with God. We don’t say that out loud, but in places in our hearts it lives and festers, like a cancer.

Few of us deal with pride on the level of Nebuchadnezzar. He built a golden image in his honor and told everyone to worship, truly the mark of over-stimulation. Our pride emerges more subtly. It surfaces in the comparisons we make with one another, in the comments we make in the privacy of our homes, in the jealousies experienced at the good fortune of our friends or co-workers. Our world encourages us to embrace the “look at me, look at me, look at me” ethos and lifestyle. Social media elevates pride and comparison to unseen heights. Combine advertising with social media and you get “influencers,” people who you really don’t want to influence you or your children at all. Advertising appeals to your pride hundreds of times a day. This message is even found in our praise choruses where we sing of what we get from the Lord and how the Lord exists for us. All the world, for me. For Me. FOR ME.

God pointedly reminds Nebuchadnezzar, the most powerful man on earth, and thus reminds you and I, that only God is sovereign. God gave you and I everything we have, and God can take away everything we have. Believe it or not, we could all be out grazing with the cattle on a thousand hills if God sends us there. Let us not be confused about the Lord of Creation. You are not God’s sole focus. God is not involved in our lives to give only good gifts and stroke our egos and let us party and then comfort us when we feel bad. Miraculously, God does some of that. God is concerned about the dark corners of your heart, and you do have some. God pursues you with love, and God pursues you with justice and God pursues you so that you know who God is and who God is not. You and I are that “not.” The text says that “all the peoples of the earth are regarded as nothing” to God. Sobering.

After seven years of insanity, of sleeping in the mud and eating fescue, Nebuchadnezzar finally understood his place before the Lord. Then God, in his unequaled goodness, restored the kingdom to Nebuchadnezzar. How about you? Perhaps it is time to take a hard look at your beliefs about God and your beliefs about yourself. If you’re brave enough, ask God to root out areas of pride in your heart. This is a life-long task as the cancer never totally goes dormant. The Lord will show you, and you may even avoid some of the pain and humiliation of a foolish king. Then, may you walk ever humbly before the Lord your God.