God Uses Failures

 

God Uses Failures

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 extraordinary sense of 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 toward the goalpost. 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 rebel, including his entire family. And Joshua offered a prayer: "Alas, Lord GOD, why have you brought these 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 "Just Achan for Trouble,” 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 execution of a countryman and his family. Joshua sensed the glares and stares of the people. Joshua's not a good leader, maybe some murmured. He doesn't have what it takes, others may have mumbled. 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. And you probably have, too.

When you lost your job, flunked the exam, or dropped out of school. When your marriage went south, or 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 that it leaves you wondering 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 all.

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 because he saw the collapse coming and loves you anyway.

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 these 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 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 your 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." (Id.) 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 that. 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? And remember, he was a Jewish boy, and pigs were unclean whether alive or served as strips of bacon. But 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. In fact, God told Joshua to revisit the place of his 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, "Okay, let's do this again, but this time let’s do it my way." Joshua didn't have 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 towards Joshua, leaving the town unprotected. The elite squad charged in and set fire to the city while Joshua reversed course, effectively 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 whatsoever. 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, too. People packed the beach and who wants to fail in public in broad daylight? But Jesus insisted, and Peter relented. "At your word I will let down the net." (Luke 5:5) This was a decisive moment for Peter. He was saying, "I will try it again, your way." And when he did, the catch was so great that the boat almost sank. Sometimes we just need to try again, this time with Christ in the boat and not some distant figure on a faraway shore. Failures are fatal only if we fail to learn from them. In other words, 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 because 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 a parade 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 way behind the others. In the middle of a civic leader's speech, a chant began: "We want Scott." "We want Scott!" The chant grew in volume and intensity 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. Yes, he’d missed the kick, but they wanted to make sure that he knew he was still a part of their community.

The Bible says that we’re surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses. (Heb. 12:1) Thousands upon thousands of saved saints are looking down on us. Peter. David. Paul . . . even Joshua. Your grandma, uncle or 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 because all things work together for good. (Rom. 8:28) Even the failures.

Grace,

Randy

Just Achan for Trouble

 

Just Achan for Trouble

Just Achan for Trouble - Audio/Visual 

So, the LORD was with Joshua, and his fame spread throughout the whole 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. Maybe they’re called something different today. 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 on 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 ever say to me, "Have you thought this through, Dad?" Or "I'm not sure you can catch me." Or how about, "Are you sure you know how to do this, Dad? Maybe you should practice with one of the neighbor kids." Never once did they think I’d drop them. Dad says he can, then he can. Dad says he will, then he will. They trusted me. 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 aimless wandering. The presence of it results in living out the life God intended. 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 the promised land. Joshua trusted God, and almost everyone followed his example. But one man refused. His name was Achan.

Never heard of the guy? You’re not alone. We tend to 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 Sunday school songs. 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. And 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 the whole 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) Bottom line? Achan stole from God.

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 nothing. 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 did. 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, not to be confused with Ai as in “artificial intelligence.” 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 failure. "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 like 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 the 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?

Maybe 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 severe. 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 not an uncommon 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 lifetime . . . 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? Don’t be an Achan. Do you trust in 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.

Randy