This question has been popping into my head all week long:
If I were living in the age of the Judges, I would be asking that question of myself.
The children of the Lord were out of control.
Idolaters…
Doing what they thought was right according to what felt good at the moment.
(It was “right in their own eyes…”)
“Where is my King?
Obviously, we need a ruler.
Someone in charge.
Someone to tell us what is right and wrong.
Someone to lead us against all captivity.
Someone to govern our hearts.”
God complied.
He gave that generation what they wanted…
Still they weren’t happy.
If I were living in the times of the Kings…
Would I follow after them?
Would I pledge my allegiance?
Almost all of them were wicked rulers, and as a result, the Israelites were almost always at war.
(Or would I have a heart like David — chasing after the King of Kings, the God of the Universe?)
The Israelites cried out again….
“Where is my King? The one to bring peace and rest to our land?”
God complied again.
He gave them new Kings….but not for the reasons they wanted…
He sent His children into a “time out” (where they could “remember the God who delivered them, the King they had rejected”), and where they would be enslaved to several foreign Kings in foreign lands, until the Persian King Cyrus came to the throne.
King Cyrus sent them home to Jerusalem.
He allowed them to rebuild what had been destroyed…
For a season, it looked like they might not need a King, perhaps they would submit to Yahweh, their King.
But, they went back to their idols, and from then, until the fall of Rome, the Israelites were under the thumb of many Kings from many nations.
And, still they cried out for a King…
“Where is my King…
…One to defeat our enemies and rule the land with equity and in freedom?
A King who will save us from oppression…
A King like David…
A Messiah-King…”
And, of course, God complied.
The time was right.
He sent them a King.
A Messiah-King.
A God-the-Son-King.
I wonder if I would have recognized Him?
‘Cause, wouldn’t you know it….they didn’t recognize Him.
He wasn’t what they expected.
On Sunday before Passover, if asked this question, “Where is my King?”
They would have answered –
“He’s there, riding into town on a donkey.”
And they would have yelled, “Hosanna to the King!”
I wonder if I would be doing the same, following the crowd….
All through the week, they waited for Him to take His throne.
All through the week, they watched.
All through the week, they wondered,
“Where is my King; and,
Why isn’t He doing SOMETHING!”
On Thursday night, the King was arrested.
On Friday He was crucified.
On Saturday they asked again,
“Where is my King? I obviously was wrong about this man.”
On Sunday, the ground shifted.
Some felt it.
Some recognized it.
Some knew with certainty there was a new King to whom they could pledge their allegiance…
THE TOMB THEY BURIED JESUS IN WAS EMPTY!
The King had come (!!!)…
…not to reign over a country…
BUT
TO FILL MY HEART!
He’s here.
He’s alive and reigning….
He’s living in my heart.