Author: Dave Dishman (Page 9 of 396)

I love running across phrases in common usage that find their roots in the Bible. One of those is feet of clay.

In a dream Daniel interpreted for King Nebuchadnezzar, a magnificent statue is seen with a head of gold, followed by silver, bronze, iron, and ending with feet partly of iron and partly of baked clay. Daniel predicted that the glorious figure would eventually be smashed into pieces and blown to the winds.

In our day feet of clay refers to a weakness or character flaw, especially in people of prominence and power. Such a person may appear dominant and unstoppable, but they cannot support their splendor, and eventually come crashing down. An awe-inspiring statue smashed on the ground resonates as an analogy for powerful figures with substantial weaknesses.

We shouldn’t be surprised. We all have feet of clay, and some of us even imagine we possess heads of gold. I’m reminded that all who hold power do so only under the gaze of the Lord. The kingdom of God—the rock that smashed Nebuchadnezzar’s statue to pieces—continues to roll and doesn’t care whose toes get crushed in the process.

Daniel 2 in Through the Bible in 2024

Photo by Matt Seymour

I think about my future and plan for it, but what is to come remains inaccessible, floating in a mist beyond my view. Even dimmer than my guesses of the future are many things I simply cannot know, the dreams of a stranger being one.

The enchanters and astrologers of Babylon woke up to just such a task. King Nebuchadnezzar ordered them to both tell him his dream and explain it to him. Impossible! The charlatans cried. Off with your heads then, you fake sorcerers! Retorted the king.

Daniel got wind of this impossible situation when a guard arrived to take his life. Granted an extension, Daniel and his friends prayed for mercy from the God of heaven who revealed the mystery of the dream. Daniel honored God:

Praise be to the name of God for ever and ever; wisdom and power are his…He gives wisdom to the wise and knowledge to the discerning. He reveals deep and hidden things; he knows what lies in darkness, and light dwells with him.

Just as God understands the past, he knows the future—all that lies in darkness. Like Daniel and his friends, I can pray and ask the Lord for wisdom regarding my future. I may not receive answers with such specificity as Daniel, but I can lean into God’s wisdom as I consider what is to come.

Daniel 2 in Through the Bible in 2024

Photo by Thanos Pal

Angst swirls around the recent United States elections. People worried about frightful outcomes prior to the vote, and now many fear dire consequences from the results. Politics in our day leaves no room for a restful spirit. Add a 24/7 news cycle and social media that never sleeps, and I can bathe in the worst the world has to offer for days on end.

But Jesus offered a solution. In meeting with his disciples shortly before going to the cross, a time of intense apprehension, Jesus made several promises about peace:

Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God—believe also in me.

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.

In this world we will have trouble, that’s a promise from Jesus. But in the same breath he ensures us of his jurisdiction over our society and its systems. Jesus controls countries, politics, those who seek power and those who manage the day to day.

My source of peace cannot lie in political parties or policy decisions. Just as it cannot reside in bank accounts or clean streets. This world offers a transient peace, a mirage shimmering in the distance.

Only Jesus provides an abiding tranquility, a place for my soul to grow calm.

John 14 & 16 in Through the Bible in 2024

Photo by Parker Johnson

My vines are dying. In fact, all the plants in my garden beds are closing down for the winter. This week we received our first measurable snow of the season, accompanied by a string of below-freezing nights. The next few weeks I’ll cut back dead plants, rake leaves, and prepare the ground for the long cold to come. Life sinks back to the roots, leaving the outer stalks to wither and fall.

I’m not sure if Jesus ever tended a garden, but he had much to say about vines:

I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. If you do not remain in me, you are like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned.

As a gardener the metaphor sinks in like water on thirsty sod. When my branches separate from the trunk of the plant, or in winter when the life source retreats, they wither and die. I can see the results in a few days—green and leafy one weekend, dead and drooping the next. Soon to be cut off and tossed away.

My life as a follower of Jesus only works when the sap of power and encouragement flows from him. I’m merely a vulnerable branch. Walking through garden beds at the edge of winter yields a snapshot of living apart. Dead and drooping or green and bursting with life, it all depends on whether I’m connected.

John 15 in Through the Bible in 2024

Photo by Gabriel Meinert