Utopia v. Dystopia: Symbols of Blessing

I released my young adult fantasy books during the major surge of dystopian novels that were flooding the market. Being a lover of happily-ever-after endings, the agenda of my novels didn't necessarily fit in with the crowd of books sweeping through Amazon and Barnes & Noble and other stores, and I found it hard to market to lovers of The Hunger Games and Divergent, etc., because in my worlds I'd built, while things definitely fell apart, they ended up actually falling into place. 

The whole concept behind dystopia is the antonym of utopia. A utopian concept is the idealization of perfection, right? The happily-ever-after. The dystopian concept is the unraveling of a concept or way of life until there's nothing left except injustice and despair and heartache and hopelessness (and really, how exactly did the popularity of this genre take off on the book market?).

Today I read 1 Samuel 4:1-11 all the way to the section header, and as soon as I finished the verses, I thought: Wow, this is the Bible's very own dystopian narration of events.

Literally an entire nation and its system of belief and its military -- destroyed -- in one fell blow.

Let's summarize some parts of it, shall we? 

The Israelites and the Philistines are at war. They've been back and forth at each other for a while, but the setting of this chapter, the geographical location where this battle is fought is significant. The Philistines had gathered in a place called Aphek, which is approximately 12 miles northeast of Joppa, a coastal seaport. 

If you've read the book of Jonah, you'll recognize Joppa as being the place where Jonah charters a western-bound (he can't go east, because he's on the eastern shore of the Mediterranean) ship and sets sail. If you've read Acts, Joppa is where Peter is staying when he sees the visions of the animals in the blanket on the roof of his friend's house. 

So anyway, Aphek is 12 miles northeast of that place, and is a long ways into the territory that has once been claimed by Israel as their land. But the Philistines now hold a stronghold there. 

The national unraveling has already begun. The foundation is already considerably cracked and weakened.

While the Philistines are in Aphek, the Israelite military is camping at Ebenezer. Ironically, perhaps significantly, the name Ebenezer means "stone of help." And while its precise location is unknown, we can safely assume that it is a short distance from Aphek, presumably, because of landforms and other things, to the east of Aphek.

So Day 1 of the battle between the Philistines and the Israelites rages on the battlefield, and the casualties are already steep after that first day. The Bible doesn't list the number of Philistine soldiers lost, but the Israelites are missing 4,000 of their foot-soldiers after the first day when each side retires to their separate camps.

And that's when the Israelites realize: They're in trouble. 

So they gather around their campfires and they discuss how things went from bad to worse throughout the day, and presumably, the fact that they are the chosen people of God enters the conversation. Because they say this: "Why did the Lord bring defeat upon us today before the Philistines? Let us bring the ark of the Lord's covenant from Shiloh, so that it may go with us and save us from the hand of our enemies" (1 Samuel 4:3).

Lightbulb!!!!

The Ark of the Covenant will save us from our enemies, from defeat! 

Four thousand men today, tomorrow, victory! All we need is the Ark.

And here's where the whole game plan gets tangled up. Because while the Israelites are celebrating their victorious idea, the brilliant, game-winning strategy, they've forgotten one thing:

They have assigned power and glory and might and blessing to the Ark of the Covenant, and not to God Himself. They've tied their allegiance to gold and wood and manmade materials rather than to the God Whom they have already forsaken and on Whom they have turned their backs.

They've done exactly as their enemies do; they carry their idols with them and point to each idol as their savior.

They did not do as the Lord required of them, which was to humble themselves, pray, seek His face, and turn from their wicked ways. Then... then He would hear from heaven (not from the Ark), and forgive their sin, and heal their land (2 Chronicles 7:14).

The people were steeped in idol worship, and they had the audacity to claim the God of Israel, the same One Who said: "You shall have no other gods before Me," as their idol rather than their God.

The Israelites went back to battle again the next day, this time carrying their idol, the Ark of the Covenant. 

When you consider, just for a second, the significance of this, it's just a little staggering. Israel, the people chosen by God, covenanted with Him through Abraham, to be God's people for all time, who daily repeat the Shema that opens with "Hear, oh Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One..." 

This same chosen, covenanted nation looks to the Ark of that same covenant for help rather than to the God Who made the covenant with them.

Talk about dystopia! The unraveling of an entire belief system becomes so very clear in this moment. The foundational cracks have turned into an all-out rupture.

When I finished reading through the Hunger Games trilogy, I closed the book feeling sad and depressed, because the main character could never escape the dissolution of her state of mind. Though she found a form of happiness, it was far from a utopic happily-ever-after. 

We know the end of the story; we can read all about it in Revelation 21:4, where "He will wipe every tear from our eyes. There will be no more death, or mourning, or crying, or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." Essentially... utopia.

So while -- for the Israelites in this section of 1 Samuel 4 -- it seemed like the end of everything, God still had a plan, one that involved the salvation of the whole world... at that time, before that time, and for all the time to come. 

A utopian plan. 

When I read this, it occurred to me that the Israelites were not the only ones guilty of strapping the power and authority and majesty and blessing of God to a symbol. 

Were they? 

What are some symbols that we have attached the blessing of the Lord to? 

A flag?
A thin blue line?
A vaccination needle?
A mask?

I was going to write a little more, but this hits me deep and hard, and I think this is where the Holy Spirit wants me to leave it today.

What symbols are we placing our hope in... all done in the name of the Lord?