pawn

Pul the king of Assyria came against the land, and Menahem gave Pul a thousand talents of silver, that he might help him to confirm his hold on the royal power…2 Kings 15:19

“Which one is the possessor of heaven and earth: He who has a thousand houses, or he who, with no house to call his own, has ten at which his knock arouses instant jubilation?” George MacDonald

Jeroboam II reigns for forty-one years and then dies, his son Zechariah reigning in his place for six months. Then he is murdered by Shallum, who now reigns for two months before being offed by Menahem – who then goes on a rampage in Tipshah because the region wouldn’t acquiese to his rule, upping the ante of cold inhumanity by ripping up the women with child. Menahem pays dearly to secure his hold on power by tribute delivered to the king of Assyria – but ultimately death can’t be so easily bought off and he dies after a reign of ten years. Menahem’s would-be dynasty comes to an abrupt end when his son Pekahiah is then eliminated after only two years on the throne by Pekah, son of Remaliah – another man with big dreams. He makes his dreams of power stretch for twenty years before being struck down by a conspiracy driven by Hoshea. And when Hoshea makes his own power play by betting with Egypt against Assyria, he loses – as does all Israel as the northern kingdom falls into oblivion in the shadows of Assyrian captivity.

Exchange the names with those of any language or culture or time or place – the story is the same. It’s always the same in our kingdoms, isn’t it? An endless quest for power and control, seeking to direct events and using people like consumables to achieve our ends, to build a dynasty, maintain a legacy – all for the greater good, of course. Some are generous in how they do it, others brutal. But in the end, despite whatever good intentions or malicious will all the kingdoms we build ultimately collapse under the weight of our own fallen humanity.

Made me think of one of the few psalms to be essentially repeated twice in that divine hymnal:

God sticks his head out of heaven.
He looks around.
He's looking for someone not stupid—
   one man, even, God-expectant,
      just one God-ready woman.


He comes up empty. A string
   of zeros. Useless, unshepherded
Sheep, taking turns pretending
   to be Shepherd.
The ninety and nine
   follow their fellow.

Don't they know anything,
   all these impostors?
Don't they know
   they can't get away with this—
Treating people like a fast-food meal
   over which they're too busy to pray?


Night is coming for them, and nightmares,
   for God takes the side of victims.
Do you think you can mess
   with the dreams of the poor?
You can't, for God
   makes their dreams come true.

“Treating people like a fast-food meal over which they’re too busy to pray.” People as commodity, as resource or filler or fodder, taking a seat in our kingdom chair as we, like Sweeney, send them down the chute to be part of tomorrow’s menu. These kings consume each other as readily as their culture consumed the poor “and panted after the dust on their head, selling the needy for silver, the homeless for a pair of shoes.” And all of this for what? For a kingdom and reign and rule and control that was but a breath, and of which we can only read in an ancient tome as we stumble over the pronunciation of their names.

And standing apart is the son of man who, rather, emptied himself to “make the dreams of the poor come true.” Consumed rather than consuming. Moved about as a pawn himself by the powerbrokers of his day from high priest home to religious council to praetorium to flogging to skull hill. The ultimate object of contempt moving along his via dolorosa. “It is better for one man to die than for the whole nation to perish.” A small price to pay for preserving their kingdom…for another few decades, anyway – for like everything else we build it too surrendered to its own inevitable demise.

While the contrary kingdom, moved itself as a pawn and launched from skull hill, grows to a mountain that fills the whole earth. A mountain in which every one is valued, where none are used and discarded, where there are no kingdoms to build or control to maintain, but only life to enjoy, meaning to explore, beauty to realize, and wonder to discover in each other’s faces.

Is there really such a place?

Must we simply surrender to using and being used as so many ancient – and very much dead – kings?