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
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