Nevertheless

Nevertheless

And the king and his men went to Jerusalem against the Jebusites, the inhabitants of the land, who spoke to David, saying, “You shall not come in here; but the blind and the lame will repel you,” . . . Nevertheless David took the stronghold of Zion (that is, the City of David). Now David said on that day, “Whoever climbs up by way of the water shaft and defeats the Jebusites . . .he shall be chief and captain.” . . . Then David dwelt in the stronghold, and called it the City of David. (2 Sam. 5:6–9)

Pete sits on the street and leans his head against the wall. He’d like to beat his head against it. He just messed up again. Everyone misspeaks occasionally, but Pete does it daily. He blurts wrong words like a whoopee cushion – spewing ugly noises everywhere. He always hurts someone, but tonight he’d just hurt his best friend.

Then, there’s Joe and his failures. The poor guy can’t keep a job. His career is like Palomar Mountain — up, down; cold, hot; lush, barren. He tried his hand at the family business. They fired him. So, he tried his skills as a facilities manager. Got canned and jailed, to boot. Now, he sits in prison and his future’s as bleak as the Kilimanjaro. No one could fault him for feeling insecure; he’s failed at each and every opportunity he’s been given.

So has she — not at work, but at marriage. Her first one failed. So did her second. By the collapse of the third, she knew the names of the court clerk’s grandkids. If her fourth trip to divorce court didn’t convince her, the fifth removed all doubt. She’s a marital flop.

People and their proverbial hang-ups. Pete speaks before he thinks. Joe fails where he should succeed. And the dear woman wins at marriage as often as a Prius at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. And you? Is there one prevailing problem that leeches your life? Some are prone to cheat. Others are quick to doubt. Maybe you’re a worrier. Sure, everyone worries some, but you own the national distributorship on anxiety. Or, maybe you’re judgmental. Everybody can be a little critical, but you pass more judgments than the Supreme Court. Where does Satan have a stronghold within you?

Stronghold: a fortress, citadel, thick walls and tall gates. It’s as if the devil staked a claim on one weakness and constructed a fortress around it. “You’re not touching this flaw,” he defies heaven, placing himself squarely between God’s help and your explosive temper, or fragile self-image, or freezer-sized appetite, or distrust for authority. Seasons come and go, but this Loch Ness monster still lurks in the water-bottom of your soul. He just won’t go away. He lives up to both sides of his compound name: strong enough to grip like a vise, and stubborn enough to hold on. He clamps on like a bear trap — the harder you shake, the more it hurts.

Strongholds: old, difficult, discouraging challenges. That’s what David faced when he looked at Jerusalem. Now, when you and I think of the city, we envision temples and prophets. We picture Jesus teaching, and a New Testament church growing. We imagine a thriving, hub-of-history capital. But when David saw Jerusalem in 1,000 BC, he saw something else. He saw a millennium-old, cheerless fortress, squatting defiantly on the spine of a ridge of hills. A rugged outcropping elevates her. Tall walls protect her. Jebusites indwell her. And no one bothers the Jebusites. Philistines fight the Amalekites. Amalekites fight the Hebrews. But the Jebusites? They’re a coiled rattlesnake in the desert. Everyone leaves them alone. Everyone, that is, except David.

The just-crowned king of Israel has his eye on Jerusalem. He’s inherited a divided kingdom from his predecessor, Saul. The people need not just a strong leader, but a strong headquarters. David’s 7½ year headquarters in Hebron sits too far south to enlist the loyalties of the northern tribes. But if he moves north, he’ll isolate the south. He seeks a neutral, centralized city. He wants Jerusalem. And we can only wonder how many times he’s stared at her walls. He grew up in Bethlehem, only a day’s walk to the south, and he hid in the caves in the region of En-Gedi, not much farther away. Surely he’d noticed Jerusalem. Somewhere he pegged the place as the perfect capital. The crown had scarcely been re-sized for his head when he set his eyes on his newest Goliath.

So, the king and his men went to Jerusalem against the Jebusites, the inhabitants of the land, who spoke to David, saying, “’You shall not come in here; but the blind and the lame will repel you,’” . . . Nevertheless David took the stronghold of Zion (that is, the City of David). Now David said on that day, ‘Whoever climbs up by way of the water shaft and defeats the Jebusites . . .he shall be chief and captain.’ . . . Then David dwelt in the stronghold, and called it the City of David.” (2 Sam. 5:6–9) This regrettably brief story tantalizes us with the twofold appearance of the term stronghold.

In verse 7, “David took the stronghold,” and in verse 9, “David dwelt in the stronghold.” And Jerusalem meets the qualifications of a stronghold: an old, difficult, and discouraging fortress. From atop the turrets, Jebusite soldiers have ample time to shoot arrows at any would-be wall climbers. And discouraging? Just listen to the way the city-dwellers taunt David: “You’ll never get in here. . . . Even the blind and lame could keep you out!” (5:6) The Jebusites pour scorn on David like Satan dumps buckets of discouragement on you: “You’ll never overcome your bad habits.” “Think you can overcome your addiction? Think again.”

If you’ve heard the mocking David heard, your story needs the word David’s has. Did you see it? Most hurry past it. But it’s a twelve-letter masterpiece. It’s the word, Nevertheless. “Nevertheless David took the stronghold . . . .” Granted, the city was old. The walls were difficult. The voices were discouraging . . . . “Nevertheless David took the stronghold.”

Wouldn’t you love God to write a nevertheless in your biography? Born to alcoholics, nevertheless he led a sober life. Never went to college, nevertheless she became a successful entrepreneur. Didn’t read the Bible until retirement age, nevertheless he came to a deep and abiding faith in God.

We all need a nevertheless. And God has plenty to go around. Strongholds mean nothing to him. Remember Paul’s words? “We use God’s mighty weapons, not mere worldly weapons, to knock down the Devil’s strongholds.” (2 Cor. 10:4) You and I fight with toothpicks; God comes with battering rams and cannons. And what he did for David, he can do for us. The question is, will we do what David did? The king models it in this story.

In short, David turns a deaf ear to old voices. Those mockers strutting on the wall tops? David ignores them. He dismisses their words and goes about his work. Nehemiah, on these same walls, took an identical approach. In his case, however, he was atop the stones, and the mockers stood below. Fast-forward 500 years from David’s time, and you will see that the bulwarks of Jerusalem are in ruins, and many of its people are living in foreign captivity. Nehemiah heads up a building program to restore the fortifications. Critics tell him to stop. They plan to interfere with his work. They list all the reasons the stones can’t, and therefore shouldn’t, be restacked. But Nehemiah doesn’t listen to them: “I am doing a great work, so that I cannot come down. Why should the work cease while I leave it and go down to you?” (Neh. 6:3) Nehemiah knew how to press the mute button on his dissenters.

Jesus did too. He responded to Satan’s temptations with three terse sentences and three Bible verses. He didn’t dialogue with the devil. When Peter told Christ to side-step the cross, Jesus wouldn’t entertain the thought. “Get behind Me, Satan!” (Matt. 16:23) A crowd of people ridiculed what he said about a young girl: “‘The girl is not dead, only asleep.’ But the people laughed at him.” (Matt. 9:24) And what did Jesus do with the naysayers? He silenced them. “After the crowd had been thrown out of the house, Jesus went into the girl’s room and took hold of her hand, and she stood up.” (9:25)

David, Nehemiah and Jesus practiced selective listening. So, what if we did the same? Because two types of thoughts continually vie for our attention. One says, “Yes, you can.” The other says, “No, you can’t.” One says, “God will help you.” The other lies, “God has left you.” One speaks the language of heaven; the other deceives in the vernacular of the Jebusites. One proclaims God’s strengths; the other lists your failures. One longs to build you up; the other seeks to tear you down.

And here’s the great news: you can select the voice you hear. So, why listen to the mockers? Why heed their voices? Why give ear to pea-brains and scoffers when you can, with the same ear, listen to the voice of God?

Do what David did. Turn a deaf ear to old voices. And, as you do, open your eyes to new choices. When everyone else saw walls, David saw tunnels. That’s how he conquered Jerusalem – he attacked them by coming up from within rather than confronting them from without. Others focused on the obvious. David searched for the unusual. Since he did what no one expected, he achieved what no one imagined.

David found fresh hope in a hole outside the Jerusalem walls. So can you. In fact, not far from David’s tunnel lies the purported tomb of Christ. What David’s tunnel did for him, the tomb of Jesus can do for you. “God’s power is very great for us who believe. That power is the same as the great strength God used to raise Christ from the dead and put him at his right side in the heavenly world.” (Eph. 1:19) Do what David did. Turn a deaf ear to the old voices. Open a wide eye to the new choices. Who knows, you may be a prayer away from a nevertheless. God loves to give them. He gave one to Pete. Remember him?

Speak-now-and-think-later Pete? God released Satan’s stronghold on his tongue. For proof, read Peter’s Pentecost sermon in Acts 2. God turned impetuous Peter into the apostle Peter. (Luke 22:54–62) And Joe, the failure? Fired by his family. Jailed by his employer . . . Can Jobless Joe ever amount to anything? Joseph did. He became prime minister of Egypt. (Gen. 37–50) Or, what about the five-time divorcée? The woman whom men discarded, Jesus discipled. Last report was that she had introduced her entire village to Christ. The Samaritan woman was Jesus’s first missionary. (John 4:1–42) All just further proof that “God’s mighty weapons . . . knock down the Devil’s strongholds.” (2 Cor. 10:4)

Peter stuck his foot in his mouth. Joseph was imprisoned in Egypt. The Samaritan woman had been married five times. Jesus was dead in the grave . . . . Nevertheless, Peter preached, Joseph ruled, the woman shared, and Jesus rose.

And you? Go ahead and fill in the blank. With God’s help, your nevertheless awaits you.

Grace,

Randy