“O that one might plead for a man with God, as a man pleadeth for his neighbor!” (Job 16:21).
When interpersonal tensions and assembly issues arise that are outside of our immediate responsibility to impact, frequently the wise counsel is given, “Leave it with the Lord.” Indeed, Scripture warns us not to meddle with strife that does not belong to us, and one that does so is likened to a man that grabs a dog by its ears (Prov. 26:17). He will be bitten.
While recognizing the importance of not involving ourselves in areas that do not belong to us, we must bear in mind that there are times when a plea or challenge should be made on behalf of others, regardless of whether or not we know them. In such instances, we cannot remove ourselves from responsibility before God by hiding behind convenient clichés or pretending we were unaware of an injustice. “If thou forbear to deliver them that are drawn unto death, and those that are ready to be slain; if thou sayest, Behold, we knew it not; doth not He that pondereth the heart consider it? and He that keepeth thy soul, doth not He know it? and shall not He render to every man according to his works?” (Prov. 24:11-12).
A lawyer once sought to deflect the directness of the Lord’s word to him, “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself” by questioning the Lord, “And who is my neighbor?” After unfolding the well-known story of the “certain Samaritan,” the Lord indicated that the one who was a neighbor to the wounded man was the one who showed him mercy.
We think of intercession primarily in terms of man’s interceding with God, through prayer, on behalf of another (1 Tim. 2:1). Job, in his severe trials, deeply felt the lack of this intercession from his three friends. They began well, sitting with him in quiet sympathy for seven days, even as Ezekiel who, at a later date, sat among the captives by the river Chebar (Ezek. 3:15). But then, in response to Job’s complaint, they turned against him, and instead of becoming his intercessors they became his accusers, wrongly assuming that God was dealing with Job in such a severe manner because he was leading a double life. In the intensity of suffering he exclaimed, “I also could speak as ye do: if your soul were in my soul’s stead, I could heap up words against you, and shake mine head at you” (Job 16:4). Little wonder he spoke of them as “miserable comforters.”
But Scripture also shows examples of those who interceded with their fellow-man on behalf of another. In these, we witness true friendship and moral courage.
Nicodemus
In John’s Gospel, the Lord Jesus is seen as rejected from the outset (John 1:11). Knowing the reproach of being identified with Him, Nicodemus first came to Jesus by night. Subsequently, when the officers did not bind and bring the Lord Jesus to the religious leaders, they scornfully questioned whether the officers had been deceived, as were, in their opinion, the ignorant common people. In the face of this hostility and condescending arrogance, Nicodemus raised the question, “Doth our law judge any man, before it hear him, and know what he doeth?” The Pharisees’ derisive response, “Art thou also of Galilee? Search, and look: for out of Galilee ariseth no prophet” manifested their own lack of awareness of the Scriptures, for Jonah, the prophet whose message of judgment resulted in deliverance to a Gentile city, was from Galilee (compare 2 Kings 14:25; Josh. 19:10,13; Matt. 4:15). Regardless, their words were calculated to demean Nicodemus, and he undoubtedly felt their sting.
Nicodemus did not exactly intercede for the Lord Jesus; he simply asked an honest question. But it was enough to brand him as “one of them.” Perhaps this experience, in the providential ways of God, was used to push Nicodemus into the daylight, when he ultimately, boldly identified himself with Christ (John 19:39). We may not possess the boldness of a lion, but may we at least be willing to ask the unwelcome question if it is necessary to do so for one, whether friend or foe, who is falsely maligned.
Jonathan
The bond of friendship between David and Jonathan is legendary. Following David’s defeat of Goliath, Jonathan’s soul was knit with David’s. Years later, as David surveyed the devastation of a Philistine victory over Israel and the deaths of both Saul and Jonathan, he directed the women of Israel to weep over Saul, their king, but the outpouring of the affection in David’s own heart is echoed in his aching words of sorrow, “I am distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan” (2 Sam. 1:24-26).
While it is true that Jonathan did not forsake Saul’s house for companionship with David in his rejection, there is no record that David ever rebuked him for it. His friendship with Jonathan ran deep, and he knew that Jonathan had stood up to his father on his behalf. The most gripping account of his loyalty to David occurred when Saul was actively pursuing David.
Saul was angry at Jonathan because of his friendship with David, and Saul told him to fetch David as he must die. Jonathan challenged his father, “Wherefore shall he be slain? what hath he done?” Saul’s enmity and bitterness toward David was so great that he lost his rational faculties and threw a javelin at Jonathan, his own son, in an apparent attempt to kill him. But Jonathan did not run in fear. On the contrary, “Jonathan arose from the table in fierce anger, and did eat no meat the second day of the month: for he was grieved for David, because his father had done him shame” (1 Sam. 20:30-34).
Scripture exhorts us to “be angry and sin not” (Eph. 4:26). Regrettably, sometimes this verse is wrongly used to defend fleshly anger, but, on certain occasions, righteous anger is appropriate, such as when the Lord Jesus looked upon the Pharisees with anger for their readiness to condemn Him for healing a man with a withered hand on the Sabbath (Mark 3:1-5). It is invigorating to read of Jonathan’s loyal defense and support of his friend David, and the incident serves us well as an example of a man’s pleading for his friend.
Esther
Mordecai’s counsel to Esther showed a definite recognition of Providence in a day when there was neither acknowledgment of God by His people nor direct intervention from God on behalf of His people.
“Mordecai bade to answer Esther: Imagine not in thy heart that thou shalt escape in the king’s house, more than all the Jews. For if thou altogether holdest thy peace at this time, then shall there arise relief and deliverance to the Jews from another place; but thou and thy father’s house shall perish. And who knows whether thou art [not] come to the kingdom for such a time as this” (Esther 4:13-14 JND). Indeed, it was a time, “such a time,” of crisis for the Jews, for their very existence was threatened.
Regardless of any familial sentiment or faint sense of destiny, the reality to Esther of her losing her life in an attempt to intercede on behalf of her people was chilling. Yet, her recognition of being in a position to preserve her people from annihilation moved her to action. “Go, gather together all the Jews that are found in Shushan, and fast for me, and neither eat nor drink three days, night or day: I also and my maidens will fast likewise, and so will I go in unto the king, which is not according to the law; and if I perish, I perish” (Esther 4:16).
Esther’s actions mirror the words of the Apostle Paul in his determination to go to Jerusalem: “None of these things move me, neither count I my life dear unto myself” (Acts 20:24). Her commitment to put her life on the line in order to intercede for her “neighbor” ended far more favorably than she could have hoped, and her people were preserved.
Job’s cry for one to intercede for his neighbor is answered in varying degrees in Nicodemus, Jonathan and Esther. They were not thinking of themselves. And while our first priority is to intercede with God on behalf of others, may their example also encourage us to be willing to intercede for others, when righteousness demands it, even if doing so reaps backlash and reproach.
W. J. Brockmeier