Unpack
So Joshua told the Israelites, “Come and listen to what the Lord your God says. Today
you will know that the living God is among you. He will surely drive out the
Canaanites, Hittites, Hivites, Perizzites, Girgashites, Amorites, and Jebusites
ahead of you. Look, the Ark of the Covenant, which
belongs to the Lord of the whole earth, will lead you across the Jordan River! (Joshua 3:9-11)
Jimmy Wayne never knew his dad, and
his mom spent more time in prison than out. When he was twelve years old, Jimmy’s
mom was released from jail and took up with a troublemaker. They loaded Jimmy
into the backseat of the Olds Delta 88,
and for a year the car was Jimmy’s home. They drove from city to city to avoid the
police. And after hundreds miles and months of drifting they dumped Jimmy in
the parking lot of a Pensacola, Florida, bus station and drove off. He was
thirteen years old. He had no home. No food. No future. No nothing.
One day while wandering through a
neighborhood, he spotted an older man who was at work in a wood shop in his garage.
He approached the elderly gentleman and asked if the man had any work he could
do. The carpenter sized the boy up, assessed he was homeless, and decided to
give Jimmy a chance. The man introduced himself as Russell, and he called for
his wife, Bea, to come out to the garage. They showed Jimmy the lawn mower and
how to operate it, and for several weeks Jimmy cut the couple's grass and
survived on the twenty dollars they paid him each week. After a time, Bea asked
Jimmy where he lived. At first he lied, afraid she wouldn't let a homeless boy continue
working around the house. But finally she convinced him to tell her the truth. And
when he did, the couple took him in. They gave him his own bedroom, bathroom
and place at the dinner table.
The home was like heaven to Jimmy. He
took a hot bath and ate hot meals. He even sat with the family in the living
room and watched television in the evening. Still, in spite of their kindness,
Jimmy refused to unpack his bag. He'd been turned away so many times that he'd
learned to be wary. So, for four days his plastic bag sat on the floor, full of
clothes, ready to be snatched up when Bea and Russell had changed their minds.
He was in the house but not in the
house. He was under the roof but not under the promise. He was with the family
but wasn’t really family. Russell eventually convinced Jimmy to unpack and move
in. It took several days, a dozen or so meals, and more than one heart-to-heart
conversation, but Russell eventually persuaded Jimmy to trust them for his care.
Our Father is still working to
convince us, too. Maybe you question your place in God's family. You fear his
impending rejection. You wrestle with doubt-laced questions like, “Am I really in God's family? What if God
changes his mind? Reverses his acceptance? Lord knows, he has every reason to.”
We press forward only to fall back. We renew our resolve only to stumble again.
We wonder, “Will God turn me out?” Boyfriends do. Employers do. Coaches kick
players off the team. Teachers expel students from school. Parents give birth
to children and abandon them at bus stations. How do we know God won't do the
same? What if he changes his mind about us? After all, he’s holy and pure, and we’re
anything but holy, much less pure. Is it safe to unpack our bags?
God answered this question at the
cross. When Jesus died, the heavenly vote was forever cast in your favor and
mine. He declared for all to hear, "This child is my child. My covenant
will never change." Promised Land people believe that. They trust God's
hold on them more than their hold on God. They place their trust in the
finished work of Christ. They deeply believe that they are "delivered . .
. from the power of darkness and conveyed . . . into the kingdom of the Son."
(Col. 1:13) They know that Jesus was serious when he said, "[My children]
shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand." (John 10:28)
They point to Calvary as prima facie
evidence of God's commitment to them. The followers of Joshua did something
similar.
They didn’t look to a hill, but to a
river. Not to Calvary, but to the Jordan. The miraculous crossing convinced
them that God was in their presence. As their leader had promised, "By
this [crossing] you shall know that the living God is among you." (Josh.
3:10) During most months of the year, the Jordan is maybe thirty or forty yards
wide, perhaps six feet deep. But Joshua received his orders during the harvest season.
(v. 15) During that time of the year, the Jordan swells to almost a mile in
width, turbulent with the melted snow water pouring down from Mount Hermon.
Crossing the swollen current was no small task – especially with millions of
people. "Go over this Jordan, you and all this people," God said. (Josh.
1:2) God wanted every man, woman, child and infant across the river. Not just
the hearty and healthy, but the old and feeble. The sick and disabled. No one
would be left behind.
Joshua might have swallowed pretty
hard at God’s command. Two million people crossing a mile-wide river? But he
set the process in motion. "Joshua rose early in the morning; and they set
out from Acacia Grove and came to the Jordan, he and all the children of Israel,
and lodged there before they crossed over." (Josh. 3:1) The people pitched
their tents on the eastern edge of the river. For three days they waited,
watching the copper-colored waters and yeasty waves carry debris and trunks of
trees. For three nights they slept, or tried to sleep, listening to the endless
rush of water in the dark. Three days. Plenty of time to ask millions of
questions. How will we get across? Will we use a boat? Will someone build a
bridge? Will everyone really go? What about the frail? What about the children?
Most of all how can a nation of people cross a flooded, bridgeless, boat-less
river? On the third day the answer came.
Officers went through the camp and
they commanded the people, saying, "When you see the ark of the covenant
of the LORD your God, and the priests, the Levites, bearing it, then you shall
set out from your place and go after it." (Josh. 3:2-3) The ark of the
covenant was a rectangular box, commissioned by God, which contained a trio of
Hebrew artifacts: unspoiled manna, Aaron's walking stick that budded, and the
precious stone tablets that had felt the engraving finger of God. A heavy
golden plate, called the mercy seat, served as a lid to the chest. Two gold
cherubim with outstretched wings faced each other and looked down on the golden
lid. The dwelling place of God was between the angels. And when God said,
"Follow the ark," he was saying, "Follow me." You see, God
led the way. Not soldiers. Not Joshua. Not engineers and their plans, or
Special Forces and their equipment. When it came time to pass through the
impassable waters, God's plan was simple: trust me. And the people did.
At the close of those three days,
there was a stirring in the Hebrew camp. A chosen band of priests, robed in
white, walked toward the river. They carried the ark with acacia poles that ran
through corner rings on the ark and rested on their shoulders. People stepped
out of their tents and watched in hushed silence as the priests inched their
way down the terraced bank toward the Jordan. The only sound was the rush of
the water. It showed no sign of stopping. When they were thirty feet from the
riverbank, the Jordan was still a rushing torrent. Twenty feet. Ten feet. Five
feet. Still fast and furious. Even when the priests were a single step from the
water, the flow didn’t slow. Surely the men must have paused. Should they even
continue? The white-capped flood would knock them over and take the ark with
it. Then they remembered what Joshua had said: "When you have come to the
edge of the water of the Jordan, you shall stand in the Jordan." (v. 8) And
scripture doesn’t bother concealing their fear: "As those who bore the ark
came to the Jordan, and the feet of the priests who bore the ark dipped in the
edge of the water . . . ." (v. 15)
The priests "dipped" their
feet into the edge of the water. They did not run, plunge or dive into the
river. They placed, ever so carefully, the tips of their big toes in the river.
It was the smallest of steps, but with God the smallest step of faith can
activate the mightiest of miracles. And as they touched the water, the flow
stopped as if someone had shut off the water main. "The waters which came
down from upstream stood still, and rose in a heap very far away at Adam, the
city that is beside Zaretan." (v. 16) Zaretan was thirty miles upriver.
Thirty miles. In my imagination I had always envisioned a wall of water forming
to the side of the ark and the priests. Not so.
God began his work upriver. He wanted
a wide path through which two million people could cross en masse. And cross they did. "All Israel crossed over on dry
ground, until all the people had crossed completely over the Jordan." (Josh.
3:17) "All Israel crossed over
on dry ground." Men. Women. Old. Young. Feeble. Forceful. Believers and
doubters. The faithful and the murmurers. "All Israel crossed over on dry ground." Might as well have
been concrete. No wagon wheels got stuck. No feet got damp. As the people stood
on the western shore, they had no mud on their sandals, no water on their
robes, and, most of all, no fear in their hearts. God did for them what they couldn’t
do themselves. Imagine the Israelites as they stood on the western banks of the
Jordan. Don’t you think they were brimming with confidence? Weren’t they
standing there in awe of God? If God could turn a raging river into a red
carpet, then "Watch out, Jericho. Here we come!" As Joshua had told
them, "By this [crossing] you shall know that the living God is among you."
(3:10) The Hebrews knew they couldn't lose. The bicycle race was downhill with
the wind at their backs. They had every right to celebrate. And so do we.
For Joshua's people, assurance came
as they stood on dry land looking back at the Jordan. For us, assurance comes
as we stand on the finished work of Christ and look back at the cross. The
river we couldn’t cross? Jesus crossed it. The tide we couldn’t face? He faced
it. For us. All of us. The young, the old. The courageous, the timid. Our
deliverance is complete. Like the Hebrews, we have been dramatically delivered.
But are we deeply convinced? Remember, the Hebrews could have entered Canaan
four decades earlier. The prior generation had experienced a miracle every bit
as grand – they had crossed the Red Sea. (Ex. 14:21-22) So both crossings
involved large bodies of water and passage over dry ground. The difference
between the first crossing and the second? Joshua's generation paid attention.
The Jordan River crossing convinced them that God was with them.
So, let the cross convince you. Be
settled about God's faithfulness. In one of the psalms the writer describes a
person of faith with these words: "He is settled in his mind that Jehovah will
take care of him." (Ps. 112:7) Life has many unanswered questions, but
God's ability to save you needn't be one of them. Let that issue be settled
once and for all because look at you, there’s no sin on your record, no guilt
attached to your name. So, let there be no doubt in your heart. If God
"did not spare his own Son but gave him for us all" (Rom. 8:32), will
he not also give you all you need for a Promised Land life? Join the chorus of
the confident and declare, "I am convinced that nothing can ever separate
us from God's love . . . [I]ndeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to
separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord."
(vv. 38-39)
Rest in your redemption. The past is
past. The future is bright. God's Word is sure. His work is finished. You are a
co-heir with Jesus, a full-fledged member of God’s Promised Land development
program. The Jordan is behind you. Canaan is before you. A new season awaits
you. Jimmy Wayne found a new season. He took his place in the family. He went
on to get an education. He found a career as a country music singer and
songwriter. His best days began when he unpacked his bags. Yours will too.
Grace,
Randy
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