Failure Isn't Fatal

Failure Isn’t Fatal

Then the Lord said to Joshua, “Do not be afraid or discouraged. Take all your fighting men and attack Ai, for I have given you the king of Ai, his people, his town, and his land. You will destroy them as you destroyed Jericho and its king. (Joshua 8:1-2)

I have a distinct memory from the 1991 Super Bowl. I'm not what you would call a football junkie, nor do I have some sense of extraordinary recall. Truth is, I don't remember anything about the '91 football season – except one, small detail. A headline. An observation prompted by Scott Norwood's kick. He played for the Buffalo Bills, and the city of Buffalo hadn't won a major sports championship since 1965. But that night in Tampa Bay it appeared the ball would finally bounce the Bills' way. With seconds to go they were a point down. They reached the Giants' twenty-nine yard line. There was time for only one more play. So, they turned to their kicker, Scott Norwood. All-Pro. Leading scorer of the team. As predictable as snow in Buffalo.

The world watched as Norwood went through his pre-kick routine. He tuned out the crowd, selected a target line, got a feel for the timing, waited for the snap, and kicked the ball. He kept his head down and followed through, and by the time he looked up, the ball was three quarters of the way to the goal. That's when he realized he'd missed. The wrong sideline erupted. All of Buffalo groaned. Norwood hung his head. The headline would read "Wide and to the right: The kick that will forever haunt Scott Norwood." No do-overs. No second chance. No reprieve. He couldn't rewind the tape and create a different result. He had to live with the consequences. And so did Joshua.

He had suffered a humiliating loss. The people of Ai, though fewer in number, had proved greater in might. They’d pounced on Joshua's men, resulting in an unexpected defeat. One of the soldiers, it was learned, had disobeyed God's earlier command. The commander was left with the distasteful, unpleasant task of exposing and punishing the rebellion. And Joshua offered a prayer: "Alas, Lord GOD, why have You brought this people over the Jordan at all – to deliver us into the hand of the Amorites, to destroy us?" (Josh. 7:7) Not one of Joshua’s better days.

The guy had been making field goals his entire life. He showed courage as a spy for Moses. He assumed the mantle of leadership. He didn't hesitate at the Jordan. He didn't flinch at Jericho. But in the episode called "Achan's Deceit and Ai's Defeat," he had failed. In front of his army, in front of the enemy, in front of God . . . he’d failed. Joshua dragged himself back to his tent. The entire camp was somber. They had buried thirty-six of their soldiers and witnessed the downfall of a countryman. Joshua sensed the glares and stares of the people. Joshua's not a good leader. He doesn't have what it takes. He knew what they thought. Worse yet, he knew what he thought. His mind sloshed with self-doubt. What was I thinking when I took this job? It's all my fault. The voices – he heard them all. You probably have, too.

When you lost your job, flunked the exam, or dropped out of school. When your marriage went south; when your business went broke. When you failed. The voices began to howl. Like hyenas in a cage, they were laughing at you. You heard them. And you joined them. You disqualified yourself, berated yourself, upbraided yourself. You sentenced yourself to a life of hard labor in the Leavenworth of poor self-worth. Failure finds us all.

Failure is so universal we have to wonder why more self-help gurus don't address it. Bookstores overflow with volumes on how to succeed. But you'll look a long time before you find a section called "How to Succeed at Failing." Maybe no one knows what to say. But God does. His book is written for failures. It’s full of folks who were foul-ups and flops. David was a moral failure, yet God used him. Elijah was an emotional train wreck after Mount Carmel, but God blessed him. Jonah was in the belly of a fish when he prayed his most honest prayer, and God heard it. Perfect people? No. Perfect messes? Absolutely. Yet God used them.

A surprising and welcome discovery of the Bible is this: God uses failures. God used Joshua's failure to show us what to do with our own. God quickly and urgently called Joshua to get on with life. "Get up! Why are you lying on your face?" (Josh. 7:10) "Do not be afraid, nor be dismayed; take all the people of war with you, and arise, go up to Ai." (8:1) Failure’s like quicksand. Take immediate action or you'll get sucked under. But one stumble doesn’t define or break a person. Though you failed, God's love doesn’t. Face your failures with faith in God's goodness. He saw the collapse coming.

When you stood on the eastern side of your Jordan, God could see the upcoming mishap of your Ai. Still, he tells you what he told Joshua: "Arise, go . . . , you and all this people, to the land which I am giving." (1:2) There’s no condition in that covenant. There’s no fine print. There’s no performance language. God's Promised Land offer doesn’t depend on your perfection. It depends on his. In God's hands no defeat is a crushing defeat. "The steps of good men are directed by the Lord. He delights in each step they take. If they fall, it isn't fatal, for the Lord holds them with his hand." (Ps. 37:23-24)

You must believe that God's grace is greater than your failures. Pitch your tent on promises like this one: "There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus . . . who do not walk according to the flesh but according to the Spirit." (Rom. 8:1,4) Everyone stumbles. The difference is in the response. Some stumble into the pit of guilt; others tumble into the arms of God. Those who find grace do so because they "walk according … to the Spirit." They hear God's voice. They make a deliberate decision to stand up and lean into God's grace. As God told Joshua, "Do not be afraid, nor . . . dismayed; . . . arise, go . . . ." The prodigal son did it. He resolved, "I will arise and go to my father." (Luke 15:18) Remember his story?

Just like you, he was given an inheritance; he was a member of the family. Perhaps just like you, he squandered it on wild living and bad choices. He lost every penny. His trail dead-ended in a pigpen. He fed hogs for a living. One day he was so hungry that the slop smelled like sirloin. He was just about to dig in when something within him awoke. Wait a second. What am I doing wallowing in the mud, rubbing shoulders with the pigs? Then he made a decision that changed his life forever. "I will arise and go to my father." You can do that, too.

Perhaps you can't solve all your problems, or disentangle all your knots. You can't undo all the damage you've done. But you can arise and go to your Father. Landing in a pigpen stinks, but staying there is just stupid. Rise up and step out. There’s no future in the past. You can't change yesterday, but you can do something about tomorrow. Put God's plan in place. God told Joshua to revisit the place of failure. "Arise, go up to Ai. See, I have given into your hand the king of Ai, his people, his city, and his land." (Josh. 8:1) In essence, God told Joshua, "Let's do it again. This time let’s do it my way." Joshua didn't need to be told twice.

He and his men made an early morning march from Gilgal to Ai, a distance of about fifteen miles. He positioned a crack commando unit behind the town. Behind this contingent was a corps of five thousand men. (Josh. 8:12) Joshua then took another company of soldiers and they headed in the direction of the city. The plan was straight out of Military Tactics 101. Joshua would attack, then retreat, luring the soldiers of Ai away from their village. And it worked. The king of Ai, still strutting from victory number one, set out for victory number two. He marched toward Joshua, leaving the town unprotected. The elite squad charged in and set fire to the city. And Joshua reversed his course, catching the army of Ai in the middle. The victory was complete.

Contrast this attack with the first one. In the first, Joshua consulted spies. In the second, he listened to God. In the first, he stayed home. In the second, he led the way. The first attack involved a small unit. His second involved many more men. The first attack involved no tactics. His second was strategic and sophisticated. The point? God gave Joshua a new plan: try it again, but this time do it my way. When he followed God's strategy, victory happened. Peter, too, discovered the wonder of God's second chance.

One day Jesus used his boat as a platform. The crowd on the beach was so great that Jesus needed a buffer. So he preached from Peter's boat. Then he told Peter to take him fishing. The apostle-to-be had no interest. He was tired; he had fished all night. He was discouraged; he’d caught nothing. He was dubious. What did Jesus know about catching fish, anyway? Peter was self-conscious. People packed the beach. Who wants to fail in public? But Jesus insisted. And Peter relented. "At Your word I will let down the net." (Luke 5:5) This was a moment of truth for Peter. He was saying, "I will try it again, your way." And when he did, the catch of fish was so great that the boat nearly sank. Sometimes we just need to try again with Christ in the boat. Failures are fatal only if we fail to learn from them. Don't spend another minute in the pigpen. It's time to rise up. Don't waste your failures by failing to learn from them. It's time to wise up. God has not forgotten you. Keep your head up. You never know what good awaits you.

Scott Norwood’s thoughts of the missed kick wouldn’t leave him. He couldn't sleep, and he was still upset when the team returned to Buffalo. In spite of the loss the city hosted an event to honor the team. The turnout was huge. Norwood took his place on the platform with the other players, but lingered in the background, hidden behind the others. In the middle of a civic leader's speech, this chant began: "We want Scott." "We want Scott!" The chant grew in volume until the speaker had to stop. Norwood's teammates pushed him to the front of the stage, and when the fans saw Scott, they gave him a rousing ovation. He had missed the kick, but they made sure he knew he was still a part of their community.

The Bible says that we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses. (Heb. 12:1) Thousands upon thousands of saved saints are looking down on us. Abraham. Peter. David. Paul . . . and Joshua. Your grandma, uncle, neighbor, coach. They've seen God's great grace, and they’re pulling for you. Press your ear against the curtain of eternity and listen. They’re chanting your name. They’re pulling for you to keep going. You may have missed a goal, but you're still a part of God's team.

Grace,

Randy

Failure Isn't Fatal - Audio/Visual

Misfit

Misfit

And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger. (Luke 2:8-12)

Most everyone knows this passage; even if they’ve never cracked open a Bible. That’s because each December, in between scenes of the Grinch slithering around Whoville, or George Bailey being rescued by Clarence, or Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer running around the North Pole with Herbie, we have Linus, who discovers the true meaning of Christmas in the gospel of Luke. Now, I love Linus as much as the next guy, but has popular culture made this story just a little too familiar? Perhaps.

You see, the story begins with God sending out a birth announcement. In fact, there’s only one announcement of Christ’s birth recorded in the Scriptures, and there’s only one invitation from God to anyone to come see his newborn Son. And God puts the wrong address on the envelope. He sends the announcement, priority overnight express, to a bunch of uneducated, smelly, low-class, social and religious dropouts: shepherds. They’re the last people you’d expect God to have on his mailing list.

They were the religious outcasts of their day. According to Jewish law, shepherds were always religiously unclean because their line of work kept them from going to church. But without them, who was going to watch the sheep while everyone else made the trip to Jerusalem to make sacrifices at the temple? Apparently, that didn’t matter. They were doing the dirty work so the churchy people could pretend to be holy. They were kind of like truckers, or maybe shift workers, whose jobs keep them from regularly attending services. It wasn’t their fault, but who cares if you’re one of the pretty people.

Shepherds were also social outcasts. They were constantly on the move and viewed with suspicion – kind of like how some people might look at carnies. They were often accused of thievery, and weren’t allowed to testify in court since their word was considered untrustworthy. That’s a polite way of calling them habitual liars. Making matters worse, they had more contact with sheep than with people. They didn’t even come home at night since they were with the sheep 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Worse yet, they slept in the sheep’s pen at night to guard against theft and attack. In other words, you probably wouldn’t want your daughter marrying a shepherd.

So, imagine you’re God and you want to announce the most amazing, most incredible, most joyous news ever; an event that will change the course of human history – the birth of the Savior; the one for whom the nation of Israel had been waiting and hoping and praying for thousands of years to come. So, who do you announce it to? Who do you tell? Who do you invite to come and see? Probably not a bunch of shepherds.

The point is that you would expect an event like the birth of Christ to be announced to the most important people in the nation. You know, the political, religious and military leaders. The hoi polloi. The media, maybe. But none of them got the text, or the e-mail, or the tweet, or the whatever. Oh, some foreign wise guys figured it out by following the star to Bethlehem, and then they informed Herod of what they’d heard. But they didn’t get an angelic messenger, or angel choir, or an invitation either. Only the social and religious outcasts got the memo. It’s like the Mormon Tabernacle Choir rehearsing all year to perform Handel’s Messiah in front of a handful of outcasts on skid row.

Why? Why did God send His angels to announce the birth of Christ to a bunch of misfits? Were the shepherds especially pious, or unusually holy? Maybe they got the MVP for believers since they’d been locked out of church by the church police. Or, maybe they were expecting this thing to happen. Or, maybe they were part of the Occupy Grasslands movement. The truth is they probably thought that God had no idea who they were. And why would he? They don’t sacrifice at the temple; they don’t show up for the feasts; they don’t go to church; and their deepest theological discussions are with a bunch of sheep. So why them?

Maybe it was because God wanted to demonstrate, first to the shepherds, that his love doesn’t discriminate on the basis of class, or wealth, or social standing. God doesn’t discriminate on the basis of intelligence, education, profession, political power, or any other quality that we can think of. God doesn’t respect kings more than cabbies, or priests more than pew potatoes. He’s kind of indiscriminate that way.

Paul makes the same point in his first letter to the Corinthians when he says, “My dear friends, remember what you were when God chose you. The people of this world didn't think that many of you were wise. Only a few of you were in places of power, and not many of you came from important families. But God chose the foolish things of this world to put the wise to shame. He chose the weak things of this world to put the powerful to shame. What the world thinks is worthless, useless, and nothing at all is what God has used to destroy what the world considers important. God did all this to keep anyone from bragging to him. You are God's children. He sent Christ Jesus to save us and to make us wise, acceptable, and holy. So if you want to brag, do what the Scriptures say and brag about the Lord.” (1 Cor. 1:26-31)

I imagine that many nights, as the shepherds sat in those cold, lonely fields, they looked out over the village and saw the lights of homes far away. Maybe they heard the faint sound of families, people laughing, and wished they could be a part of that. And maybe you’ve felt that way too. Maybe you’re not one of the pretty people. Maybe you’re not particularly wealthy, or powerful, or influential. Maybe you’ll never see your name in the paper for some great accomplishment. Maybe you’re on the fringes, either socially or religiously. And when you compare your level of religious observance to others, the comparison doesn’t stack up very well: spotty church attendance, infrequent Bible reading and even less frequent prayer. You think that if God actually knows that you exist, he’s probably not impressed.

 If this strikes a chord, then I’ve got good news. Great news, in fact. The best possible news. God loves you – just like he loved those shepherds. You’re special to him – just like those shepherds were special to him. So special, in fact, that he gave them the incredible privilege of being the first to hear of Christ’s birth and, other than Mary and Joseph, the first to lay eyes on the Son of God.

God didn’t give those privileges to the Roman Caesar, or to the Jewish high priest. He gave it to the shepherds. Not in spite of who they were, but because of who they were: humble, ordinary people with few opinions about themselves. Simple people who were willing to believe what God told them, and when they heard the news they didn’t seek out a bunch of religious professionals for a second opinion. When they were invited to visit Bethlehem to see the newborn Messiah, they didn’t worry about who was going to watch the sheep. They didn’t get bogged down in debates about how they were going to find a small baby in such a large city. They simply obeyed, and went.

God likes to use the ordinary so that, like a mirror, his power can be reflected in his creation. And it’s true that God didn’t send an angel to give you or me the news, either. But he did send you an invitation. Here’s what it says: “I’m here to announce a great and joyful event that is meant for everybody, worldwide: A Savior has been born in David’s town, a Savior who is Messiah and Master.” (Luke 2:10-11)

Don’t let the simple yet profound message of Christmas be lost on you this season: God knows you and loves you anyway – even if you’re a misfit.

Merry Christmas,

Randy

Misfit - Audio/Visual

Stuff

Stuff

So the LORD was with Joshua, and his fame spread throughout all the country. But Israel violated the instructions about the things set apart for the LORD. A man named Achan had stolen some of these dedicated things, so the LORD was very angry with the Israelites. (Josh. 6:27; 7:1)

Kids, summertime, a backyard pool and water wings. We called them Floaties. But whatever you called them, you wanted those blown-up flotation devices to do both – propel your kids like Superman and keep them afloat when they hit the water because, well, the kids could only fly so far. Unless, of course, dad gave them a little help. But more often than not, I was at the receiving end of their adventure, encouraging them to sprout their wings and fly because dad would be there to catch them when gravity took over. They’d launch into the pool like a rocket and I was there to ensure their safe re-entry.

Never once did they question my judgment or strength. Their mom did. A pediatrician would have. But never in the launch cycle of a thousand rockets did my kids say to me, "Have you thought this through, Dad?" "I'm not sure you can catch me." "Are you sure you know how to do this?" "Perhaps you should practice with one of the neighbor kids." Never once did they think I would drop them. Dad says he can, then he can. Dad says he will, then he will. They trusted me completely. After all, I was their father. Oh, that we would trust ours.

Jesus once declared, "The work God wants you to do is this: believe the One he sent." (John 6:29) Everything begins with faith. The absence of it results in wilderness years. The presence of it results in living out of your inheritance. It's really that simple. It was for Joshua. He didn't launch himself into a swimming pool, mind you, but he trusted God to open rivers, collapse strongholds, and pry the devil's fingers off of his inheritance. Joshua trusted God, and most of the people followed his example. But one man refused. Achan.

Never heard of the guy? You’re not alone. We gravitate toward happier Bible stories. We love Peter's redemption, Saul's conversion, and Samson's restoration. But Achan's corruption? It’s not the stuff of a Sunday school song. Yet his story survived the final edits of the book of Joshua. God kept it in there for a reason. It's not a happy story; it’s not a pleasant read. In fact, you might want to brace yourself for its solemn warning. The prior chapter had ended on such a high note. "So the LORD was with Joshua." (Josh. 6:27) Jericho was demolished. No rock or enemy was left standing. The stage was set for the Hebrews to run the table. The citadel was in shambles. The word was out, and the Hebrews were emboldened. Joshua's face was on the evening news. "So the LORD was with Joshua, and his fame spread throughout all the country." (v. 27)

So. Such a great word. Sadly, the so at the end of chapter 6 becomes a but at the beginning of chapter 7. “But Israel violated the instructions about the things set apart for the LORD. A man named Achan had stolen some of these dedicated things, so the LORD was very angry with the Israelites.” (Josh. 7:1) Here’s the dossier on Achan. He had a wife. He had a family. He had oxen, donkeys, sheep and a tent. (v. 24). He had a place in the bloodline of Judah, and, most of all, he blatantly and deliberately violated the following command: “Do not take any of the things set apart for destruction, or you yourselves will be completely destroyed, and you will bring trouble on the camp of Israel. Everything made from silver, gold, bronze, or iron is sacred to the LORD and must be brought into his treasury.” (6:18-19)

The instructions were clear. Don't touch the stuff. Don't make necklaces out of the gold. Don't make medals out of the bronze. No souvenirs. No trinkets. No Jericho jewelry. No kidding. God had high hopes for these Hebrew people. Through them the Scriptures would be written, the prophets would come, and the Messiah would descend. God needed them to trust him, and him alone. Hasn't that been the message of Joshua so far? Who opened the Jordan River? Who led the people across on dry ground? Who brought down the Jericho walls? Who fought for and delivered his people? God. They never went without provision. They may have grown weary of manna-nut bread, but they were never hungry. And he didn’t just give them food, because God gave them clothing and good health, too.

Moses once reminded the Hebrews, "Your clothes did not wear out and your feet did not swell during these forty years." (Deut. 8:4) God echoed that message: "During the forty years that I led you through the wilderness, your clothes did not wear out, nor did the sandals on your feet." (Deut. 29:5) The following phrases were never heard in the wilderness: "I need to soak my feet in Epsom salts." "Oh, bummer, my robe has a rip in it." "Hey, new sandals? Where’d you get ‘em?" Podiatrists, tailors and cobblers had a lot of time on their hands. No want for food. No need for clothing. Never a blister or a bunion. God provided for them. God provided everything.

In God's Promised Land society he was the sole source of blessing. He knew what would happen if the soldiers collected treasures – they would stop trusting him and start trusting stuff. Think about it. They were just a bunch of hayseed Bedouins, most of them conceived and born in the wilderness. Hebrews in Jericho were like gypsies on Rodéo Drive. The gold would bedazzle them; the bracelets and rings would entrance them; the shekels, the jewelry, the silk . . . the Hebrews were ill-prepared to own that kind of stuff. And Achan proved the point. He saw the bling and forgot his King. And God's discipline was immediate and severe. Here’s the backstory.

A few miles north of Jericho sat the encampment of Ai. Joshua circled the name of the city on his war room wall map and told his officers to attack. Flush with a Jericho victory, he assumed the small town would be an easy target. The entire village numbered only twelve thousand. Joshua had that many men on his night watch. So he sent a reduced battalion: three thousand soldiers. But Joshua was in for a big surprise. The town was a kennel of pit bulls. The people of Ai bit back, and Joshua's division raced home discouraged, disheveled and licking their wounds. “The men of Ai chased the Israelites from the town gate as far as the quarries, and they killed about thirty-six who were retreating down the slope. The Israelites were paralyzed with fear at this turn of events, and their courage melted away.” (Josh. 7:4-5)

Joshua's mighty men crawled underneath their blankets and trembled. Joshua didn't know what to think. He was coming off a string of victories and miracles. Jordan. Jericho. The rescue of Rahab. Undefeated. Undaunted. Undeniably the new force in Canaan. And now this? So, our hero had a meltdown. He tore his clothing and fell on his face. He prayed like the Hebrews of the wilderness days. He regretted the invasion and accused God of setting them up for defeat. "Oh, that we had been content, and dwelt on the other side of the Jordan!" (Josh. 7:7) Joshua came undone, but God was far from being done. "[T]he LORD said to Joshua, 'Get up! Why are you lying on your face like this?'" (v. 10) So Joshua pulled himself to his feet, and God told him that there was trouble in the camp. “Israel has sinned and broken my covenant! They have stolen some of the things that I commanded must be set apart for me. And they have not only stolen them but have lied about it and hidden the things among their own belongings. That is why the Israelites are running from their enemies in defeat.” (vv. 11-12)

It's not that the people of Ai were formidable. It's more that the Hebrew camp was poisoned. God told Joshua, in so many words, to find the rotten apple before it ruined the whole bunch. So at God's direction, Joshua did a tribe-by-tribe, then family-by-family, then man-by-man review until Achan confessed. The treasures were hidden in his tent. “I have sinned against the LORD, the God of Israel. Among the plunder I saw a beautiful robe from Babylon, 200 silver coins, and a bar of gold weighing more than a pound. I wanted them so much that I took them. They are hidden in the ground beneath my tent, with the silver buried deeper than the rest.” (vv. 20-21)

It's not hard to re-create Achan's stumble. Along with other soldiers he had walked through the fallen city. Walls down. Rubble everywhere. Conquest complete. All the spoils of Jericho lay unprotected – the gold, coins, fine garments. Everyone saw the stuff, but everyone else remembered God's command. They saw the treasures and kept going. But Achan? When he thought no one was looking, he "… saw a beautiful robe from Babylon, 200 silver coins, and a bar of gold weighing more than a pound. I wanted them so much that I took them." "I saw . . . I wanted . . . I took." Others saw. Others surely wanted. But only Achan took. Why?

Perhaps he wanted a payoff. After all, his side had won the battle. Or maybe he needed an ace in the hole, some money to fall back on in case the Hebrews had lost. Maybe he thought that a nest egg would be nice, as would some negotiating power in case he was taken captive. Whatever the explanation, Achan didn't trust God. He didn't trust God's wisdom. He didn't trust God's ability to provide or protect. In the biblical version of my summertime "Superman" with the kids, Achan doubted God's ability to catch him, and this was the indictment God gave: "he has transgressed the covenant of the LORD." (Josh. 7:15) Achan took matters into his own hands. More literally, he took treasure into his tent and entangled his family in his deceit, and the judgment was swift and the punishment stiff. Achan and his family were publicly executed, and all their possessions were burned. A monument was even built at the site as a warning to the people. It was a solemn day in Gilgal. And it’s a solemn warning to us: God is jealous for our trust. He doesn't request it, suggest it, or even remotely recommend it; he demands it. His unvarnished message is clear: "Trust me, and me alone."

What would a search of your tent reveal? A cabinet full of faith, or a closet piled with ambition? A pantry of hope, or a storage bin of stock certificates? For our own sakes the story of Achan reminds us: don't put your trust in stuff. Paul told Timothy, "Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment." (1 Tim. 6:17) The "rich in this . . . world." That’s you, and that’s me. If you didn’t make a dime this year but somehow own a cell phone, you’re in the top 58.03% of the richest people in the world. And that’s okay. Prosperity is a common consequence of faithfulness. (Prov. 22:4) Paul didn't tell the rich to feel guilty about being rich; he just urged caution, because nothing breeds failure like success. Money is just a short-term condition. The abundance or lack of money will only be felt for one life . . . so don't get tangled up in it.

The currency of this world will be worth nothing when you die or when Christ returns, both of which could happen at any moment. If you and I stockpile earthly treasures and not heavenly treasures, what does that say about where we put our trust? Whom do you trust? God or King More? King More is a rotten ruler. For all the promises he makes, he can’t keep a single one. King More will break your heart. But the King of kings will catch you every single time.

                                                               

Grace,

Randy

Stuff - Audio/Visual

Strongholds

Strongholds

Now the gates of Jericho were tightly shut because the people were afraid of the Israelites. No one was allowed to go out or in. But the Lord said to Joshua, “I have given you Jericho, its king, and all its strong warriors.” (Joshua 6:1-2)

Here’s what you need to know about the walls of Jericho: they were immense, and they wrapped around the city like a suit of armor – two concentric circles of stone rising a total of forty feet above ground. Impenetrable. Its inhabitants were ferocious and barbaric. They withstood all sieges and repelled all invaders. They were guilty of child sacrifice: "They even burn their sons and daughters as sacrifices to their gods!" (Deut. 12:31) They were the Bronze-age version of the gestapo. That is until the day Joshua showed up. Until the day his army marched in. Until the day the bricks cracked and the boulders broke. Until the day everything shook – the stones of the walls, the knees of the king, and even the molars of the soldiers. The unassailable fortress met the unstoppable force. Mighty Jericho crumbled. But here’s what you need to know about Joshua: he didn't bring the walls down.

Joshua's soldiers never swung a hammer. His men never dislodged a brick. They never rammed a door, or pried loose a stone. The shaking, quaking, rumbling and tumbling of the thick, impervious walls? God did that for them. And God will do that for you. Your Jericho may be your fear. Your Jericho may be your anger, bitterness or prejudice. Your insecurity about the future. Your guilt about the past. Your negativity, anxiety and proclivity to criticize, overanalyze or compartmentalize. Your Jericho is any attitude or mind-set that keeps you from joy, peace or rest. Jericho. It stands between you and your inheritance. It mocks you and tells you to take your dreams back to the wilderness. It stands like an ogre on the bridge of progress. It’s big, and it’s evil. It blocks your way. And its walls must fall.

To live in the land of your promised inheritance, you must face your Jericho. It's not always easy. Every level of inheritance requires a disinheritance from the devil. Satan must be moved off before a saint can move in. Joshua told his people to "go in to possess the land which the LORD your God is giving you to possess." (Josh. 1:11) The verb translated possess means to occupy – as in driving out the previous tenants and then possessing what used to be their place. Satan won't leave without a fight. He’ll resist. He’ll push back. But he won’t win. Why? Because God has already declared that you’re the victor. Satan, defanged and defeated at Calvary, has no authority over you. God's word to Joshua then is God's word to us today: "Be strong and of good courage." (v. 6)

Don’t heed your fear. Don’t cower before your woes. Take the land that God has given you to possess. "And the LORD said to Joshua: 'See! I have given Jericho into your hand, its king, and the mighty men of valor.'" (6:2) God didn’t say, "Joshua, go take the city." God said, "Joshua, receive the city I have already taken." Joshua didn’t go up against Jericho hoping to win; he knew that God had already won. The same can be said about you and your challenges, too. God doesn’t say, "Bob, break your bad habit." He says, "Bob, I have broken the bad habits of your life. Receive the blessing of my victory." Remember, you are a co-heir with Christ. Every attribute of Jesus is at your disposal. Was Jesus victorious? Did he overcome sin and death? Yes. Will you be victorious? Can you overcome sin and death? Yes.

The question is not, will you overcome? It’s when will you overcome? Life will always bring challenges. But God will always give you the strength to face them. Things are different in Canaan. Hang-ups and addictions don’t have the last word. Today's trouble is not necessarily tomorrow's obstacle. Don't incarcerate yourself by assuming that it is, and resist the urge to self-label, i.e., "I'm just a worrier," or "Gossip is my weakness," or maybe, "My dad was a drinker, so I’m doomed to carry on the tradition." These words create alliances with the devil. They grant him access to your spirit. It’s not God's will that you live a defeated, marginalized, unhappy and weary life. Turn a deaf ear to the old voices and make new choices. "The land you have given me is a pleasant land. What a wonderful inheritance!" (Ps. 16:6) Live out of your inheritance, not out of your circumstance.

God has already promised a victory. And he has provided weapons for the fight. I can just picture the soldiers perking up as Joshua, their commander, announces, "It’s time to take Jericho, boys!" "Great!" they reply. "We’ve got our ladders and ropes!" "We’ll scale the walls!" "Our spears are sharpened, and our swords are polished!" "Which side do we attack first?" And then Joshua looks at his men and says, "Well, God has a slightly different strategy." The general then outlines the most unlikely of attacks. "Take up the Ark of the Covenant, and let seven priests bear seven trumpets of rams' horns before the ark of the LORD." (Josh. 6:6) Joshua then commands his soldiers to march before and behind the priests. He tells the priests to blow the trumpets continually as they walk around the city once a day. And everyone else? "You shall not shout or make any noise with your voice, nor shall a word proceed out of your mouth, until the day I say to you, 'Shout!' Then you will shout." (v. 10)

Wait a minute. No war cry? No hand-to-hand combat? No flashing swords, flying spears, battering rams or catapults? Just priests, rams' horns, and millions of people marching in circles not saying a single word? Joshua has at least forty thousand soldiers at his command, and he tells them to be quiet and watch? What kind of warfare is that? It’s spiritual warfare. Every battle, ultimately, is a spiritual battle. Every conflict is a contest with Satan and his forces. Paul urged us to stand "against the wiles of the devil." (Eph. 6:11) The Greek word he used for "wiles" is methodia, from which we get our English word method. Satan is neither passive nor fair. He’s active and deceptive. He has designs and strategies. Consequently, we need to have a strategy as well; a method. For that reason "though we walk in the flesh, we do not war according to the flesh. For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal but mighty in God for pulling down strongholds." (2 Cor. 10:3-4)

Just as Jericho was a stronghold in Canaan, we have strongholds in our lives. The apostle Paul used the term to describe a mind-set, or attitude. "The weapons of our warfare are . . . mighty in God for pulling down strongholds, casting down arguments and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God." (vv. 4-5) The apostle defined a stronghold as a high thing that "exalts itself against the knowledge of God." It is a conviction, outlook, or belief that attempts to interfere with the truth. Other translations describe a stronghold as "imaginations" (KJV), "pretension" (NIV), "lofty opinion" (ESV), or "warped philosophies" (MSG). A stronghold is a false premise that denies God's promise. It "sets itself up against the knowledge of God." (v. 5) It seeks to eclipse our discovery of God. It attempts to magnify the problem and minimize God's ability to solve it. Does a stronghold have a strong hold on you? Do you see nothing but Jericho? Do you feel nothing but despair? Do you think thoughts of defeat?

Do you speak the language of impossibility? God could never forgive me – the stronghold of guilt. I could never forgive that person – the stronghold of resentment. Bad things always happen to me – the stronghold of self-pity. I have to be in charge – the stronghold of pride. I don't deserve to be loved – the stronghold of rejection. I'll never recover – the stronghold of defeat. I must be good, or God will reject me – the stronghold of performance. I'm only as good as I look – the stronghold of appearance. My value equals my possessions – the stronghold of materialism. Most Christians don't recognize their strongholds. They live in the shadow of these joy-sucking Jericho’s. But we don't have to be among them. Our weapons are from God, and have "divine power to demolish strongholds." (2 Cor. 10:4) And isn't that what we want?

We long to see our strongholds demolished, and turned into rubble once and for all. We long to see Jericho brought to the ground. But how does that happen? By keeping God in the center. The ark of the covenant was the symbol of the Lord's presence. Joshua placed the ark in the middle of the procession. Every activity orbited around God. We don't attack our Jericho with anger, blame casting or finger-pointing. Instead, we keep God center stage, using the weapons of worship, Scripture and prayer. We employ every tool God offers: hymns, songs, communion, Scripture memorization, and petition. We put down the phone and open the Bible. We remember Jesus' promise: "I am with you always." (Matt. 28:20) We worry less, and pray more. We even blast our version of a ram's horn. A ram's horn? What?

The Hebrews used two instruments: the silver trumpet and the ram's horn. The silver trumpet was used to call the people to assembly. (Num. 10:2) The ram's horn celebrated a battle already won. When Abraham displayed his willingness to give up his son Isaac as an offering, God stopped him and provided a ram. The ram's horn reminds us of God's sovereign generosity. God gave Abraham a ram of deliverance. God told Joshua to fill the air with sounds of a ram's horn victory. And, just as curiously, he told the people to keep quiet. "Don't say a word." (Josh. 6:10) No chitchat. No opinion-giving, or second-guessing. No whining or small talk. Just keep your mouth shut and the trumpets loud. And then imagine the reaction of the Canaanites as Joshua's army marched circles around them.

The first day they mocked the Hebrews. The second day they scoffed again, but not as loudly. By the fourth and fifth days, the enemy had grown silent. What are these Hebrews up to? they wondered. On the sixth day the Canaanites were dry mouthed and wide eyed as the Hebrews made their round. The people of Jericho had never fought a battle like this. Just as challenging is your battle with your archenemy, the devil. He has held this stronghold in your life for months, maybe years. You've tried everything to overcome it: renewed discipline, self-help books, pop culture gurus. Nothing helps. But now you come in God's power with God center stage, Jesus in your heart, and angels in both front and back. You come, not with hope of a possible victory, but with the assurance of a complete victory.

So, march like a Canaan conqueror. Blast your ram's horn. Sing songs of redemption, and declare scriptures of triumph. Marinate your mind with the declaration of Jesus, "It is finished!" (John 19:30), and the announcement of the angels, "He is not here; for He is risen." (Matt. 28:6) Personalize the proclamations of Paul: "We are more than conquerors through [Christ]" (Rom. 8:37), and "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." (Phil. 4:13)

As you do, the demons will begin to scatter while another Jericho bites the dust. "Yell a loud no to the Devil and watch him scamper." (James 4:7) He will retreat. He must retreat. He’s not allowed in the place where God is praised. Just keep praising and walking. Easier said than done, perhaps, because maybe you’ve been walking a long time, or it seems like it. But it probably seemed that way to the Hebrews, too. Joshua didn’t tell them how many trips they would have to make around the city. God told Joshua that the walls would fall on the seventh day, but Joshua didn't tell the people that bit of information. They just kept walking. And the truth is, our Joshua didn't tell us either.

Through the pen of Paul, Jesus urges us to be "steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your labor is not in vain in the Lord." (1 Cor. 15:58) So keep walking. For all you know this may be the day that the walls will come down. You may be only steps from a moment like this: “On the seventh day . . . they rose early, about the dawning of the day, and marched around the city seven times in the same manner . . . And the seventh time it happened, when the priests blew the trumpets, that Joshua said to the people: ‘Shout, for the LORD has given you the city! . . .’ So the people shouted when the priests blew the trumpets. And it happened when the people heard the sound of the trumpet, and the people shouted with a great shout, that the wall fell down flat. Then the people . . . took the city. (Josh. 6:15-16, 20) The very walls that kept them out had now become stepping-stones upon which they could climb in.

A great shaking is coming for this world, too. Our Joshua, Jesus, will give the signal, and a trumpet will blast. He will reclaim every spoil and repel, once and for all, each and every demon. He will do again what he did in Canaan. But until he does, keep marching and believing. Defeat your strongholds with the spiritual weapons of worship, Scripture and prayer. Move from false premises to God's promises. It's just a matter of time before your Jericho comes down, too.

Grace,

Randy

Strongholds - Audio/Visual

Jericho

Jericho

Now when Joshua was near Jericho, he looked up and saw a man standing in front of him with a drawn sword in his hand. Joshua went up to him and asked, “Are you for us or for our enemies?” “Neither,” he replied, “but as commander of the army of the LORD I have now come.” Then Joshua fell facedown to the ground in reverence, and asked him, “What message does my Lord have for his servant?” The commander of the LORD's army replied, “Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy.” And Joshua did so. (Josh. 5:13-15)

Joy Veron was all alone in her hospital room. Alone with her fears, her pain and the memory of the SUV rolling over her body. Vacation had become tragedy when her car slipped out of gear and began rolling toward a steep Colorado mountain ravine – with her three children inside. Joy and her parents were looking at a cabin that her parents were considering buying. When they saw the vehicle moving, they sprinted to stop it. Joy arrived first. Fearful she didn't have time to open the driver's side door, she placed herself in front of the SUV. Her interference slowed it down enough for her father to climb in from the passenger side and bring the car to a stop. That was October, 1999. Her children still remember the expression on her face as the car pulled her under. Joy's back was broken, and her internal injuries were severe. Joy was airlifted to a hospital in Farmington, New Mexico. Her condition was so fragile that the doctors waited twelve days before performing surgery.

She emerged from the operation with a dangerously high fever. Her medical team struggled to get the fever under control, but for seven days her fever raged. And so did her fears. She feared dying. Then she feared living as a paralytic. The physicians tried to comfort her, but there was no comfort to be found. Joy pleaded with her mom for help. Her mother, who had been maintaining a bedside vigil, stepped out to call friends for prayer. "I'll be back soon," she told Joy. Joy was all alone. But not for long.

A man opened the door and walked into the room. Joy didn’t recognize him. All her nurses, per her request, were females. If the man was a doctor, he wasn't one of hers. He had a striking appearance, tall and dressed in white. He had high cheekbones, silver-white hair that was parted in the middle and ran down his back into a ponytail, and piercing blue eyes. The visitor stepped toward her bed and lifted her chart, casually flipping through the pages, but Joy had the impression that he wasn’t reading them. After a few moments he spoke to her with a soothing voice. "Joy, you’re going to be all right. You’ll get through this." And then as quickly as he had entered, he left. Joy instantly believed him.

When her mother reentered the room, Joy immediately told her about the man. "Mom, he said I’m going to be fine!" Joy's mom ran out into the hall to find the visitor but saw no one matching his description. She then described him to the staff. They knew nothing of such a man. They searched the hospital. They couldn’t find him, and Joy knows why. She believes the visitor was heaven-sent just for her. She treasures the words he spoke. The years have brought pain, difficulty and life in a wheelchair, and Joy often turns to the memory of the pony-tailed stranger for strength. "You’ll get through this." And she has. So, who was the visitor? From where did he come? Did God send an emissary to bring her hope? Joshua would like to weigh in on that question.

He has a story that parallels Joy's – a divine encounter during a dark, difficult time. He wasn't alone in a hospital, but he was alone with a challenge. "Joshua was near Jericho." (Josh. 5:13) David had his Goliath. Elijah had his Jezebel. John had the Roman Empire. And Joshua had the people of this fortified city. It towered like a titan on the barren plains, north of the Dead Sea. Successive walls encircled the stone houses. The outer wall was seven feet wide and sixteen feet high. On top of this wall a second wall was built – this one eight feet tall. A citadel guarded the north end. A thick forest of palm trees, eight miles long and three miles wide, stood as a barrier east of the city. Steep hills protected the western wall. High walls. Protected sides. Joshua and his soldiers had never faced such a challenge. They had fought battles in the wilderness, but always on their turf and terms on an open plain. Never, ever had they fought a fortified city. They had never passed this way before. And perhaps you haven't either.

Perhaps you’re facing a challenge unlike any you have ever faced before. It looms on the horizon like an angry Jericho. Imposing. Strong. It consumes your thoughts and saps your strength. It wakes you up and keeps you awake. It is ancient, thick walled and impenetrable. It’s the biggest challenge of your life. It sits between you and your inheritance. Like Joshua, you can see it. Like Joshua, you must face it. And, like Joshua, you don't have to face your Jericho alone. “Now when Joshua was near Jericho, he looked up and saw a man standing in front of him with a drawn sword in his hand. Joshua went up to him and asked, ‘Are you for us or for our enemies?’ ‘Neither,’ he replied, ‘but as commander of the army of the LORD I have now come.’” (Josh. 5:13-14)

When it comes to heaven-to-earth communiques, God seems to follow one rule: there is no rule. In the case of Abram, three strangers came for dinner. In the story of Moses, a blazing bush left him wide eyed and barefoot. A talking donkey got the attention of Balaam. A blazing angel guarded the empty tomb of Jesus. The Bible is famous for surprise encounters. Yet no visit is more mysterious than this one: the man with the upraised sword and confident air. Who was he? Let's eliminate some options.

He wasn't an apparition. Nothing in the language leads us to conclude that the person was anything other than flesh and bone. He had muscles that held the sword, vocal cords that created a voice. He wasn't a vision, spirit, ghost or figment of Joshua's imagination. Nor was he an angel. We're tempted to think so. After all, angels have swords. Angels can take fleshly form. Angels have courage and defy enemies. But here’s the difference: angels don’t accept worship. When the apostle John attempted to worship an angel, he was rebuked: "See that you don’t do that! I am your fellow servant, and of your brethren who have the testimony of Jesus. Worship God!" (Rev. 19:10) Had this person been an angel, he would have refused Joshua's worship. But this visitor accepted and encouraged it.

Was the guest a human being? A strong, imposing figure? If he was, then he sure had Joshua hoodwinked because Joshua not only fell at the person's feet out of respect, but also removed his sandals. This guest was no mortal. He wasn't an angel or an apparition. That leaves only one option. This was God incarnate. This was Jesus Christ. What Jesus did in Bethlehem for us, he did near Jericho for Joshua. He became flesh and paid his servant a visit. The Commander spoke to his commander. Do you find that a little curious? Jesus, BC? Is it difficult to imagine Jesus as an active being before his birth on earth? If so, let me challenge you to widen your imagination.

Remember, "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever." (Heb. 13:8) "He was chosen before the creation of the world." (1 Peter 1:20) The normal restrictions of time and place don’t apply to Jesus. We’d be wrong to limit his corporal ministry to thirty-three years in Palestine. Long before Jesus ate with Zacchaeus in Jericho, he shared a moment with Joshua near Jericho. And what a moment it was. "I am the commander of the army of the Lord," Jesus declared. The human eye saw two armies: the Canaanites and the Israelites. Actually, there was a third. The Lord's army; God's angels.

This is the heavenly host referred to in Psalm 103:20-21: "Bless the Lord, you mighty angels of his who carry out his orders, listening for each of his commands. Yes, bless the Lord, you armies of his angels who serve him constantly." Dismiss the notion of angels with chiffon wings and rosy cheeks. God's angels were strong enough to close the mouths of lions for Daniel. According to the book of Revelation, it will take only one angel to bind Satan and cast him into a bottomless pit. Think about that. Just one angel can dispense with the devil. So, imagine what thousands of angels can do. Hebrews 12:22 refers to "thousands of angels in joyful assembly." When John was given a glimpse into the heavens, he saw too many angels to even count: "The number of them was ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands." (Rev. 5:11) When God opened the eyes of Elisha's servant, the young man saw that "the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha." (2 Kings 6:17)

Angels are "ministering spirits sent forth to minister for those who will inherit salvation." (Heb. 1:14) Their presence is a Promised Land perk. All God's children can be sure of God's angels. They’re mighty in power; they’re many in number. And Jesus is the Commander of them all. The message to Joshua was unmistakable. Jericho may have its walls but, Joshua, you have more. You have God. He is with you. Isn't that the word Joshua needed? A reminder of God's mighty presence? And isn't that all any of us need? We need to know that God is near; that we’re never alone. In our darkest hour, in our deepest questions, the Lord of hosts never leaves us.

You need to know this: your Father is here. Here as the Commander. Here with his heavenly hosts. You will never face a Jericho alone. This is the promise God gave Joy in New Mexico and Joshua near Jericho, and this is the promise he gives to you. He’s with you. He’s still the Commander of the hosts. "He is in charge of it all, has the final word on everything." (Eph. 1:22) "He sustains everything by the mighty power of his command." (Heb. 1:3) All authority has been given to him. He needs only to lift a finger, and thousands upon thousands of mighty angels will respond to his call. His presence is a part of your inheritance. "O LORD, You are the portion of my inheritance and my cup." (Ps. 16:5)

He will come to you. In the form of a hospital companion or Holy Commander? Perhaps. Or he may come through the word of a scripture, or the kindness of a friend. But this much is certain: God comes to his people. "The Commander of the armies of heaven is here among us." (Ps. 46:7) You’re no exception to this promise. His love includes all people. And isn't that the point of this curious dialogue between Joshua and Jesus? "Are you for us or for our enemies?" Joshua asked. "Neither," the Commander replied. God doesn't take sides. He’s never against his children. Even the evil Canaanites, who had long ago turned to worshiping idols, were candidates for his mercy. Had Jericho turned and repented, God would have received them as he received Rahab. He’s for his children. And he is for you. "If God is for us, who can be against us?" (Rom. 8:31)

Are you facing a Jericho-level challenge? Do you face walls that are too high to breach and too thick to crack? Do you face a diagnosis, difficulty or defeat that keeps you from entering your inheritance? If so, do what Joshua did. "When Joshua was by Jericho, . . . he lifted his eyes and looked, and behold, a Man stood opposite him." (Josh. 5:13) After Joshua lifted his eyes, he saw Jesus. And as long as our eyes are only on our Jericho, we won't see Jesus. We’ve got to look up. "I will lift up my eyes to the hills. From whence comes my help? My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth." (Ps. 121:1-2)

Look to Jesus to comfort you. Turn your gaze away from Jericho. You've looked at it long enough. No need to memorize its circumference, or itemize its stones. Healing happens as we look to our Commander. Lift up your eyes and bow your knees. "Joshua fell on his face to the earth and worshiped." (Josh. 5:14) Joshua was a five-star general. Forty thousand soldiers saluted as they passed. His tent was the Oval Office. Two million people looked up to him. Yet in the presence of God, he fell on his face, removed his sandals and worshiped. We’re never so strong that we do not need to worship.

Worship-less people have no power greater than themselves to call upon. The worship-less heart faces his or her Jericho all alone. Don't go to your Jericho without first going to your Commander. Let him remind you of the ever-present angels. Let him assure you of his all-encompassing power. He has given you this promise: "I will never fail you. I will never abandon you." (Heb. 13:5) Jericho may be strong. But Jesus is stronger. Let him be your strength.

Grace,

Randy

Jericho - Audio/Visual

Remember

Remember

When all the people had crossed the Jordan, the Lord said to Joshua, “Now choose twelve men, one from each tribe. Tell them, ‘Take twelve stones from the very place where the priests are standing in the middle of the Jordan. Carry them out and pile them up at the place where you will camp tonight.’” (Joshua 4:1-3)

For a book about conquests, Joshua’s pretty skimpy on military details. What weapons did Joshua's army use? How many officers did his army have? How many men made up each battalion? Did Joshua have an elite force? If so, what training did he require? The answer to these and so many other questions? We don't know. We don't know because the emphasis of Joshua is not on a physical battle but a spiritual one. The real conflict wasn't with the Canaanites or the Amorites; it was with Satan and his demons. Canaan was the choicest real estate on earth. It connected Africa with Europe. It accessed the Mediterranean Sea. It was marked by fertile fields and valleys. Most important, the land was God's gift to Israel. Nearly seven centuries earlier God had told Abram, "To your descendants I will give this land." (Gen. 12:7) God set this property apart for his people, and his people apart to be a blessing for the world. God promised Abram, "I will make you a great nation; I will bless you and make your name great; and you shall be a blessing." (v. 2)

The Hebrews were the couriers of God's covenant to a galaxy of people. Israel was the parchment on which God's redemption story would be written. The city of Jerusalem. The town of Bethlehem. The sacrifices of the temple. The prophecies of the prophets. All on this land. The Redeemer would be born here, walk here and live his life here. He would soak this dirt with his blood and shake this ground with his resurrection. The book of Joshua isn't about claiming real estate for a dislocated nation; it’s about preserving a stage for God's redemption plan. Satan's counterstrategy was clear: contaminate the Promised Land and preempt the promised Child. Destroy God's people and destroy God's work. Joshua's battle, then, was a spiritual one. And so is ours. (Eph. 6:12-16)

The idea of an actual devil strikes many people as being odd and outdated. The popular trend of our day is to blame problems on genetics, governments and environments. Yet the Bible presents a real and present foe of our faith. His name is Satan. Some call him the devil. Others call him Beelzebub, Belial, the tempter, the evil one, the accuser, the prince of demons, or the ruler of this world. Whatever name you choose, he is the enemy, and he is real. He is not the cute and harmless character of the cartoons. He’s not an imaginary, dark counterpart to the Easter Bunny. He is the invisible yet forceful fallen angel called Lucifer, who desired the high place only God could occupy. He rebelled and disobeyed and wants you and me to do the same. (1 Peter 5:8)

Anyone who’s dared to draw near to God has felt Satan's attack. Want to read his rap sheet? "Satan . . . incited David." (1 Chron. 21:1) "Satan has asked . . . to sift you [Simon] like wheat." (Luke 22:31) "The devil . . . persuaded Judas Iscariot . . . to turn against Jesus." (John 13:2) "This woman . . . Satan has kept bound for eighteen long years." (Luke 13:16) He has "blinded the minds of those who don't believe. As a result, they don't see the light of the Good News." (2 Cor. 4:4) "He rules the world, and his spirit has power over everyone who doesn't obey God." (Eph. 2:2)

Satan incites, sifts, persuades, binds, blinds and rules. He has one objective: "to steal, and to kill, and to destroy." (John 10:10) He's ticked off at you. All this talk about Promised Land living has him in a foul mood. Your wilderness days did not trouble him. But now you are stepping into your Promised Land life. Daring to walk in faith, not fear; leaning on grace, not guilt; hearing God's voice more, the devil's voice less. Consequently, Satan's got you in his sights. You are in enemy territory. Joshua was, too.

For the first time in nearly five centuries, Hebrews were camping in Canaan. This was the moment they’d been waiting for. How many times had they gazed across the Jordan at that lush land? Some of them, like Joshua and Caleb, had been waiting for forty years. When God opened the waters of the Jordan River, they didn't wait to be asked twice. "All told, about forty thousand armed soldiers crossed over before GOD to the plains of Jericho, ready for battle." (Josh. 4:13) They hurried across the Jordan and had God not stopped them, they would’ve run straight to Jericho. But God did stop them. They weren't quite ready. It's as if he wanted to give them one more word.

He brought the invasion to a halt, and by virtue of two commands he prepared the Hebrews for the Promised Land. “When all the people had crossed the Jordan, the Lord said to Joshua, ‘Now choose twelve men, one from each tribe. Tell them, “Take twelve stones from the very place where the priests are standing in the middle of the Jordan. Carry them out and pile them up at the place where you will camp tonight.”’” (Josh. 4:1-3) Joshua commanded a dozen men, one from each tribe, to return to the riverbed. From the very area where the priests had stood, the men dislodged twelve rocks. As the people watched and the waters resumed their flow, Joshua stacked the stones. When the twelfth rock was securely placed on the top spot, he turned to his people and urged, “In the future your children will ask, ‘What do these stones mean?’ Then you can tell them, ‘This is where the Israelites crossed the Jordan on dry ground.’ For the Lord your God dried up the river right before your eyes.” (vv. 21-23)

The secret of survival in enemy territory? Remember. Remember what God has done. Record his accomplishments in your memoirs. Capture this crossing in your memory. Before you look forward to Jericho, look backward to Jordan and what God accomplished there. Satan has no recourse to your testimony. Your best weapon against his attacks is a good memory. Create a trophy room in your heart. Each time you experience a victory, place a memory on the shelf. Before you face a challenge, take a quick tour of God's accomplishments. Look at all the paychecks he has provided, all the blessings he has given, all the prayers he has answered. Imitate the shepherd boy David. Before he fought Goliath, the giant, he remembered how God had helped him kill a lion and a bear. (1 Sam. 17:34-36) He faced his future by revisiting the past. Don't go to Jericho until you've remembered Jordan.

"Okay, okay," I'm imagining an impatient soldier saying. "The stones are stacked, and the moment is memorialized. Can we attack now?" Not quite. God had one more instruction for the Hebrews before sending them into battle: remember whose you are. “At that time the Lord told Joshua, “Make flint knives and circumcise this second generation of Israelites. (Josh. 5:2) Six hundred years earlier God had inaugurated the practice of male circumcision, but during the wilderness wanderings the Hebrews let this practice lapse. It's not hard to see why. With hearts hardened the people ignored the instructions. And they might have been tempted to ignore them again.

The act would leave the men convalescing for weeks. Their wives and children would be unprotected. Enemy nations were watching their every move. Shouldn't the men remain at maximum strength so they could fight? Yet God was not concerned with their numbers, skills or muscles. He wanted them to remember whose they were. Specifically, he "rolled away the reproach of Egypt." (Josh. 5:9) The "reproach of Egypt" was the humiliation of slavery that had made them subject to insult and disgrace from other nations. It was time to reclaim their birthright as God's chosen people. Circumcision, then, was also a symbolic separation from the past. The act declared a new identity. "You are no longer who you were. You are mine." No longer slaves but free. No longer in bondage but liberated. God's message to the Hebrews? Remember whose you are.

God's message to us? Remember whose you are. In a sense, all believers have been circumcised. This may be news to you. "When you came to Christ, he set you free from your evil desires, not by a bodily operation of circumcision but by a spiritual operation, the baptism of your souls." (Col. 2:11) Christ cut away the old life. He severed from you the power of sin and death. The old temptations, lusts and longings? He detached you from their power when you gave your heart to Christ. It cannot be stated too often or too clearly. You are not the person you used to be. So get acquainted with your new self. "Consider yourselves to be dead to the power of sin and alive to God." (Rom. 6:11)

When the devil draws near, stand against him. "What are you doing here? I am dead to you!" Give him no quarter. Don't take his lies. Don't stand for his accusations. Don't cower at his attacks. When he dredges up your past mistakes, tell him whose you are. He has no recourse to this truth. He knows who you are. He just hopes that you don't, or that you’ll forget. So prove to him that you know and remember. Tell him: "I’ve been bought with a price. I belong to God." (1 Cor. 6:20) "I have not been given a spirit of fear but of power, love, and a sound mind." (2 Tim. 1:7) "I cannot be separated from the love of God." (Rom. 8:35) "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." (Phil. 4:13)

Promised Land people think like this. They walk with a reverent swagger. They live out of their inheritance. They show the devil the new name on their spiritual passport. They are spiritually circumcised. I know that term sounds terribly awkward and indelicate. But it’s a biblical concept. You are a new creation. "God's Spirit, who is in you, is greater than the devil, who is in the world." (1 John 4:4) The secret of survival in enemy territory? Remember. Remember what God has done. Remember whose you are. The Hebrews did what God commanded – and God protected them.

Don't face Satan by facing Satan. Face Satan by facing God. Don't obsess yourself with the devil. Don't give Satan the time of day. Glance at the devil and gaze at Christ. Yes, it’s a war out there. But the war’s already won. "God stripped the spiritual rulers and powers of their authority. With the cross, he won the victory and showed the world that they were powerless." (Col. 2:15) Remember what God has done. Face the future by remembering the past. Remember whose you are. You are not who you used to be. You are God's child. Then, and only then, will you be ready to face your Jericho.

Happy Thanksgiving,

Randy

Remember - Audio/Visual

Unpack

Unpack - Audio/Visual

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