CLAY VERSUS WAX: what the Gaza conflict exposed
J.K. Rowling once commented that “bad times bring out the best in some people and the worst in others.”
Sadly, this rings true for many Christians as well and few events have exposed this as vividly as the conflict in Gaza. Some Christians are filled with anguish, while others are filled with anger – you only need to read the comments on social media to fully comprehend this. The response often comes from people who read the same Book, follow the same Master, and confess the same faith.
The truth is that our response to the conflict in Gaza has more to do with the content of our hearts than the convictions of our faith. Let that sink in for a moment: our response to events has more to do with the content of our hearts than the convictions of our faith.
Yes, how we respond to the conflict in Gaza reveals more about us than the conflict itself. This is a sobering thought, especially once we start examining our own hearts.
One of the most profound lessons I have learned, and subsequently shared in all my books, was during a visit to Egypt where I questioned one of my dear brothers in Christ about the passage in Exodus 7:3-4 where the Lord proclaims to Moses that He will “harden the heart of Pharaoh and then lay His hand on Egypt with mighty acts of judgment”.
I’ve always wondered about this. So, I asked the question.
“Why would the Lord harden someone’s heart and then punish that person for his hardened heart? This does not sound like a just God to me. Maybe, as an Egyptian, you have a cultural explanation for this Scripture.”
My friend smiled. “You want to understand everything theologically, Mike. In Egypt, we understand the natural implications of how a substance is hardened or softened by the heat of the Egyptian desert sun. If you take a bowl of clay and a bowl of wax and you put it in the sun, it will be the same ray of sun that hardens the clay and melts the wax. It was not the Lord that hardened the heart of Pharaoh, but the content of his heart that hardened when God spoke to him. Our response to events will reveal the content of our hearts. When God speaks to us, it will either melt our hearts like wax or harden our hearts like clay. It will bring out the worst in us or the best in us”
This truth was a liberating revelation. It explains why some people are deeply touched by the needs of the people in Gaza and others seem to justify it; why some are filled with anguish when confronted with acts of injustice and others are moved to anger. It all depends on the content of the heart. It explains the cries of David in Psalm 22:14: “I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint. My heart has turned to wax; it has melted within me.” It underlines the instruction in Hebrews 3:8, to not “harden [our] hearts in rebellion”.
More than ever the world needs a generation of leaders that will have the perceptual ability to view people, events, and circumstances with hearts of wax. Gaza needs this more than ever. The church needs this more than ever.
If we cannot weep with the people of Gaza then we are seriously missing a key component of calling ourselves a follower of God, the Father of all compassion. If our hearts are like clay when we watch buildings being bombed in Gaza because of Hamas, then we need to recalibrate with the heart of Christ when He wept at the grave of Lazarus. When we recall the events of 7 October and we are not flooded with empathy for the people of Israel we are equally guilty of hearts like clay.
When we harden our hearts we sin against God. The events on 7 October in Israel and the subsequent attacks in Gaza have proven this. Many have hardened their hearts against the “enemy” like clay and relinquished their role as peacemakers.
We need to recalibrate our hearts with that of a compassionate God