Weighed and Found Wanting

Weighed and Found Wanting--July 7, 2016

[Daniel said to the king of Babylon:] "And you, Belshazzar...have not humbled your heart, even though you knew all this!  You have exalted yourself against the Lord of heaven! ....So from his presence the hand was sent and this writing was inscribed.  And this is the writing that was inscribed: MENE, MENE, TEKEL, and PARSIN.  This is the interpretation of the matter: MENE, God has numbered the days of your kingdom and brought it to an ened; TEKEL, you have been weight on the scales and found wanting; PERES, your kingdom is divided and given to the Medes and the Persians." [Daniel 5:22-23a, 24-28]

Well, that doesn't seem very "grace-y," does it?

I know.  I can hear the inner monologues: "Okay, Steve, those verses get ten out of ten points for 'truth,' but all that harsh judgment stuff doesn't sound very much about 'grace.' And I believe you have been advertising a theme of grace AND truth.  Seems like this theology sandwich here is heavy on the peanut butter and light on the jelly, Steve."

This is perhaps a good moment to remember that "grace" is not merely a spiritual-sounding synonym for "nice."  In fact, sometimes the grace we most deeply need is to have truth spoken to power. It may not be fun or easy for the Belshazzars (or Pharaohs or Herods and Herodiases) of history to be taken down a few pegs, but for everybody who they have been stepping on and climbing over, there is the gift of vindication in finally hearing it said and acknowledged that the emperor of the day has been wearing no clothes.

Elie Wiesel, whom many are especially remembering this week after his passing, made the point so well and incisively: “We must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented. Sometimes we must interfere."  To have someone stand up and speak up for you, even when they could have kept their head down and kept themselves out of trouble--that is grace.  To have someone be an advocate for you, to stand alongside you and say, "If they are going to do it to you, they will have to do it to me as well," that is what grace is all about.  So, yes, sometimes grace doesn't sound very polite. But it does mean the gift of solidarity, the gift of saying, "No! This cannot happen anymore!", and the gift of being with you when the other person could have bailed out.

That's why I am coming to hear grace in the midst of this strange story from the book of Daniel.  The words, "You have been weighed on the scales and found wanting," are not spoken to some poor struggling soul who was trying really hard to get it right--they are spoken to a puffed-up, overly-proud pompous blowhard whose family legacy was demanding worship as a god.  Belshazzar was the king of the empire of the day, and he was convinced that his power and might would last forever.  He rubbed it in the faces of all the peoples he had conquered (or more accurately, all the peoples his father had conquered FOR him, which he then inherited), and he did it all to show off how "great" he was.  Calling him an arrogant windbag would be an insult to arrogant windbags.  And the worst of it was that, as he lounged in luxury, showing off his treasures and power at a party with all his sycophants, girlfriends, and yes-men, it looked like Belshazzar was going to get away with it all.

And into THAT situation, God sends a message that the pompous king will not rule forever.  God speaks on behalf of those he has stepped on.  God speaks on behalf of those who have been under the heel of the empire.  God speaks on behalf of those who didn't get invited to Belshazzar's big party, those who did not have a voice that night.  And God says, "You might fool your cronies, but you cannot fool me.  You have been weighed and found wanting."

It is grace to get to hear a story of genuine vindication--of truth winning out, and the puffed up tyrant being deflated--when such stories are so rare in this messy world.  So often, one rotten dictator is replaced with another rotten dictator, or one awful candidate is the only competition against another awful candidate.  So often in history, one power of the day is dethroned by another power that becomes just as corrupt.  Egypt turns to Assyria turns to Babylon turns to Persia turns to Alexander the Great turns to Rome--they are all the same rotten system of a handful of powerful pretenders on top, casting themselves as gods and making everyone underneath them afraid to speak.  So often, that's the way it goes.  So, yes, it is grace indeed to be reminded that God indeed is alive and is not fooled--not by Belshazaar or Caesar or whatever would-be emperors of the day want us to believe their new clothes are "great" when they are really naked.  The handwriting on the wall here in the book of Daniel is God's voice, God's message, standing in solidarity with all who have been stepped on by Babylonian jackboots.

Elie Weisel is right: so often we choose silence because we are not the ones directly being threatened or hurt, and we think that if we keep quiet we don't have to get entangled in the troubles of others.  "First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak up because I was not a Socialist..." goes the haunting reminder of Martin Niemoller.  Eventually, there is no one to speak up at all...

And that is why I hear this story now as a story of grace-telling-the-truth.  These words from the book of Daniel remind me that even if all the rest of us chicken out, the living God is willing to be put on the line and to speak up--to stand in solidarity with all those who are in fear, even if it means going to a cross.  This story reminds me that God is willing to be the voice to speak, or the hand to write, if no other voices or hands will rise up on behalf of those whose hands are bound or mouths are silenced.  The living God is willing to say, "You can't fool me," to whatever and whoever the powers of the day are.  And... chicken that I am, I need to know the gracious promise that God will not leave the Belshazzars and Pharaohs to get the last word.

In this day, it might just be OUR calling to sit alongside those who are stepped on, even if you could have gotten away with silence.  But know this: even if we chicken out, the living God is faithful to speak and to stand in solidarity.

Thank you, Lord, for the power of your truth that dethrones the mighty and lifts up the lowly.