Keep me as the apple of your eye; hide me in the shadow of your wings, from the wicked who do me violence, my deadly enemies who surround me. [Psalm 17:8-9 (ESV)]
When my father called me the apple of his eye, while I knew that meant he cherished me, I didn’t know the idiom originated in the Bible. The Hebrew expression used was ‘iyshown ‘ayin which literally means “little man of the eye.” The ancient metaphor most likely refers to the eye’s pupil—the opening through which light enters the eye. Because our eyes are both necessary and vulnerable, God provided us with reflexes that automatically shut them, turn our heads, or shield them with our hands as a means of protection. Throughout Scripture, the apple of the eye metaphor is used to mean something as precious as the pupil of the eye. With this in mind, the psalmist may be asking God to protect him as if he were the pupil of God’s eye. Supporting that interpretation, the psalmist switches metaphors by asking God for protection by hiding the man in the shadow of His wings. In line with this interpretation, the NLT and other thought-for-thought Bibles translate the above verse as, “Guard me as you would guard your own eyes.”
If we simply replace “apple of your eye” with “pupil” or “eyeball,” however, we’d miss the nuance of the idiom. Although the psalmist is asking God to hide and protect him as God would his own eyes, he is asking more—that God keep His eyes focused on him. When someone looks directly at us, it is in the pupil, the central and darkest part of the eye, where our miniature reflection can be seen. We literally have become the little man or woman in the other person’s eyes. Of course, for us to become that little person in another’s eyes, he or she must be looking directly at us! Since we can’t be the apples in God’s eyes unless He is gazing at us, the psalmist is asking God to keep His eyes focused on him. Fortunately, God never takes His eyes off any of His beloved children and each one of us is the “little man” (or woman) in His eyes!
To shield our eyes and protect them from things like dust, sun, bugs, chemicals, infection, and wind, we wear sun glasses with UV protection, safety glasses, face shields, and assorted goggles for things like SCUBA, skiing, swimming, racquetball, and welding. If we’re careful enough to protect the apple of our eye when handling power tools, riding a motorcycle, playing paintball or handling chemicals, why are we so casual about protecting our relationship with God and His word? For that matter, if we are the people reflected in the pupil of God’s eyes, who is reflected in the pupils of our eyes? On who or what do we gaze? It should be God. Is it?
When I was asked if I’d ever been hurt by a fellow believer, I had to reply that in my seventy plus years, I’ve been hurt (both intentionally and unintentionally) by all sorts of people, including the most devout of Christians. When asked if any Bible verse helped guide my response to the hurt, Ephesians 4:32 came to mind: “Be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ has forgiven you.” I was then asked what I’d learned from my experiences. The first take-away, learned the hard way, was to immediately ask God to put His arm around my shoulder and His hand over my mouth before I said something stupid or nasty. The second was that, as tactless, unkind, petty, and rude that both Christians and non-Christians can be, they also can be right!
For the most part, being a “stiff-necked people” is a pejorative label, but could there be occasions when that’s exactly what we should be? Are there times we should be intractable, stubborn, and uncompromising—even instances we should disregard the law?
“The luckiest traitor ever,” are the words historian Mary Beard used to describe Flavius Josephus, a first-century Jewish general who ended up allying himself with the Romans—the very people who destroyed his homeland and demolished the Temple during the Great Revolt (66-70 AD). Born in 37 AD, Josephus grew up in Jerusalem and studied with the Pharisees, Sadducees, and Essenes before serving as a general during the Jewish rebellion against Rome. According to Josephus, when fleeing the Roman army, he led his troop of 40 men into a cave. Rather than surrender, they agreed to commit suicide and drew lots to determine the order in which they would die. Either Josephus was incredibly lucky or he’d fixed the lottery but, when only he and another man remained, he convinced him to join in surrender to the Romans. In support of his story, excavations at Jotapata in the 1990s revealed the remains of 30 to 40 men assumed to have been Josephus’ men.
Since 1890, a common teaching method in a surgical residency is to “see one, do one, teach one.” The med student learns the basics by watching an experienced physician do a procedure and then puts his knowledge into practice by doing the procedure himself. He hasn’t mastered the procedure, however, until he’s taught someone else to do it; it is only when we can teach something that we truly understand it.
My morning’s reading took me to Deuteronomy 6 and the words that Jesus cited as the first, and most important commandment. Known as the Shema and found in verses 4 through 9, it is the essential declaration of the Jewish faith. Its name comes from the first Hebrew word of the verse, shema, which means “hear.” Observant Jews recite its words twice a day (morning and evening), on the Sabbath and religious holidays, and as the last words before death. The Shema is so entrenched in Judaism that a story is told about Rabbi Yitzhak Herzog who, in 1946, went searching for Jewish children who’d been hidden by Christians during the Holocaust. As he walked through European convents, monasteries, and orphanages, the rabbi would start to recite the Shema. He easily found the Jewish children because they immediately joined in saying the sacred words.
Devotions of the Heart 