It’s a short passage in 1 Chronicles 4, and it became popular several years ago through a book called “The Prayer of Jabez.” The book comes across as awfully close to one of those “prosperity theology” prayers, the “name it and claim it” brand of religion - although I did read the book, and it has value if taken in the proper context.
But I was thinking more about this, trying to look beyond the verses the other day, and a couple things hit me.
Here is the passage: “Jabez was more honorable than his brothers. His mother had named him Jabez, saying, “I gave birth to him in pain.” Jabez cried out to the God of Israel, “Oh, that you would bless me and enlarge my territory! Let your hand be with me and keep me from harm so that I will be free from pain.” And God granted his request.”
First, here is Jabez. We don’t know much about him, yet we do.
He was more honorable than his brothers. Why is this line in there? We don’t know the names of his brothers; they aren’t named. But there was something about Jabez that the writer of Chronicles felt was important enough to mention: he was more honorable than his brothers. When the writer of this genealogy came to the name of Jabez, he remembered him for being "more honorable."
We’ll get back to that.
Then, his name: Jabez. Names meant something specific in those days, much as they have in other cultures. Native American names often had something to do with what happened on the day of their birth. “Wolf ran” or “owl perches in tree” or “running deer’’ … you get the idea. The name has to do with something that was seen as significant on the day they were born.
If you remember your Bible stories, Isaacs’s name means “He will laugh,” reflecting the disbelief, if not outright laughing, that occurred when old Sara and Abraham were told they would have a son.
Jabez’ name reflects the amount of pain his mother experienced in childbirth. Think about that. She didn’t pick a name that reflected some hope for his future, or something of significance to the family, or a name to honor some relative. No, Jabez has to live every day of his life knowing he caused his mother an incredible amount of pain. Every time his name was called in school (if they did that back then); every time he was called to dinner; every time his friends picked him for a game of cow-tipping, he was reminded that he was literally a “pain.”
That makes me think his mother was bitter. I can hear her use his name as a way to remind him of her own suffering, of maybe even her own disappointment and somehow making him the embodiment of that disappointment.
And Jabez could have grown up living “down” to his name, to that disappointment. He could have grown up knowing life is hard, full of pain, and it would always be that way. Maybe his brothers had better names, family names, names that they could live up to. For Jabez, the bar was set pretty low.
Yet Jabez doesn’t settle. He wants something more for himself. He wants to get beyond the low expectations, the misery of his everyday existence.
He asks, “Oh, that you would bless me and enlarge my territory! Let your hand be with me …” He wants more than what is expected of him and, judging by the fact that his brothers are not mentioned, I’d assume he wants something more than his brothers even dreamed of.
Jabez asks for blessing, but surely realizes with that “enlarging of territory” there comes more responsibility, more work.
He ends with “… free me from pain.”
He could have been asking to be free from physical pain, or he could be asking to be free from the curse of his name: “pain.” It’s almost as if he’s asking, “free me from the burden of my past, from the ways this family attempts to keep me down.”
Too many people who are raised in bitterness and being put down live with bitterness and a sense that the world is against them. Often, they live in an emotional cowering, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the hammer to fall, for whatever disaster they know will befall them because that’s been their whole life. They can’t see that there is opportunity for something more.
Yet Jabez apparently does. Maybe he listens to the stories told around the campfires of the heroes of the nation of Israel, of Abraham and Moses and Joshua and Caleb; heroes that made him long for something better.
And God does it. Why? Apparently because Jabez was “more honorable than his brothers.” He realized, somehow, that he doesn’t have to live the way his brothers do, that he doesn’t have to be bound by the expectations others have for him, that he doesn’t have to be a source of pain.
Something in the stories he’d heard about, something that stirred within his heart made him cry out to God for something more, something greater, something beyond anything those around him could imagine. “Oh, that You would bless me…”
And he lived a life of honor that God blessed.
His brothers grew up in the same house, and no doubt heard the same stories. They had the same history, the same tribe, the same bloodline. Yet there is no record that they grabbed the vision and pursued something greater than what was expected of them.
I think we all have those things in our past that hold us back – the disappointments, the hurts, the failures. Maybe it’s not our fault; maybe we’re reminded by our families – as Jabez was – of those disappointments and low expectations.
But what we want is to rise up. To be better than our past. Or as Jabez might have said, “Bless me. Give me more responsibility. Free me from the curse of what is expected of me, the burden of the meaning of my name.”
Whatever situation we find ourselves in, we should live with honor, responding appropriately to the situations around us. We don’t wallow in self-pity or hide behind some disappointment from yesterday or from years ago.
Be more honorable than your brothers. Don’t be afraid to ask God for more, but remember to ask for the character to handle it, believe that God will give it to you despite the circumstances or situations you find yourself in.
That’s the lesson, to me, of Jabez.
Right in the middle of this passage of names and boring genealogy, it’s as if the writer came across the name “Jabez” and remembered there was something noteworthy about him, something unforgettable.
Be unforgettable.
Be honorable.
(Much of what I do is read other people's work, then think about it and "riff" on what stuck with me. Much of this was a riff on a chapter in Stephen Mansfield's excellent book, "Mansfield's Book of Manly Men." I recommend it).
No comments:
Post a Comment