Sunset on the Empire
Nineveh, capital of Assyria and a thorn in the flesh of Israel, was in a state of collapse. Assyria, like all empires, was dominated by self-interest, her rulers seeking for themselves the power that belongs only to God and their people either quietly enjoying the benefits or too oppressed to do much about it.
For hundreds of years it worked and there was no alternative, but by the time of Nahum, the sun was setting on the great empires. The ‘cold war’ was over. The wall was coming down. Apartheid was finished. The prisoners were coming out of their dungeons. The days of the cruel oppressor were coming to an end.
And as the mighty are brought low, and God initiates one of the great ‘reversals’ of history, Nahum offers us this poem, detailed and precise, and sometimes described as ‘a taunt’. Those who have tortured others are covered in blood (v 3), they rush around madly from one escape route to another, but to no avail (v 4), the mighty men, once in charge, can’t even stay on their feett (v 5), and the palace is terrified (v 6). Law and order have broken down and the treasures are there for all who want them (vv 7-9). And as the sun goes down the oppressors come face to face with their own vulnerability. Knees tremble. Faces grow pale (v 10).
Who would have believed it? How long had the victims been waiting for this day? Now, deliverance before their very eyes. Those of low degree were being exalted. This was the Magnificat before Mary, a foreshadowing of the topsy-turvy world reflected in so many parables of the Kingdom in the New Testament.
Think of Nineveh as the symbol of all empires, administrations and dictators. Put your finger on the lion and his cubs in today’s world (vv 11-12), or the women ‘moaning like doves’ (v 7), and what happens when the water hole can be refilled once it dries up (v 8). Now re-draw that picture of God.