How Walls Come Down

The story of the fall of Jericho to me is emblematic of how peculiar a thing it is to follow the Lord.  Jericho was a walled city, a fortified city.  To the Israelites, having wandered in the wilderness for 40 years, I think it must have looked more or less indestructible.  However, God had told Joshua that He had given the land and the city into their hands, so they moved forward to fight.

God also told them how to take the city, and His plan is bizarre.  The army is to march around the city, and the priests with them, bearing the Ark of the Lord and blowing trumpets continually.  Days 1-6 they go around once, saying nothing, and then they go back to camp.  On day 7 they are to march around seven times, and then shout after the trumpets are sounded the last time.  When they do this, they are told, the walls will fall down.

I don't know about you, but if I'd been a member of the army listening to Joshua tell me the plan, I probably would have been skeptical.  And on day one, after having marched silently around the city, armed for war, while the priests blew their trumpets, only to go back to camp and eat dinner and go to bed,  I would have felt like an idiot.  The same on day two.  By day six I would have been antsy as hell.  And on day seven, I can guarantee I would have been nervous, mostly about whether or not it was actually going to work.

So say you're like me.  Say God has told you to do something and you're doubtful, or you're skeptical, or your nervous, but you do it anyway.  Guess what?  The walls will still come down, because the power is not in you, or in the size of your faith, the power is in your obedience.  This is success then: obedience.  This is what makes walls fall down - big walls mind you, big hulking solid walls built over the course of years.  They fall down not because you strategized and practiced and have come to a place where you can level them.  They fall because God knocks them down.  He specializes in knocking down walls.

So many times we are not called to do the thing that seems so obvious in the course of battle.  We would expect that we could build an army and figure out how to win, and then go to God and ask Him to bless it and give us victory.  But that's backwards.  Sometimes God does tell us grab a sword.  Sometimes He says to beat the sword into a plowshare.  Sometimes he tells us to do something seemingly ridiculous, something that in no way appears to lead to the goal of victory.  They're all good.  If God is saying it, it's good, and we'll know victory if we're just obedient.

I think it's important to remember that, if we are in fact at war (spiritually), then everything we do is a part of a battle.  This is not meant to intimidate anyone, or hype up the charismatics, but rather I say it to remind us that everything we do has a place in the Kingdom.  My job has a place in the Kingdom of God, and I'm not in ministry, I'm in the energy industry.  My hobbies making beer and gardening have a place in the Kingdom.  My tendency to joke around with cashiers and the folks at the counter at the coffee shop, that has a place in the Kingdom.  So does the music I like, the books I read, and the blogs I write.  It's peculiar, but these things matter.

So don't be afraid of or embarrassed about what God asks you to do, just be obedient, and watch as the landscape of your life changes.  You'll find it easier to get from point A to point B, and then C and D and so on, without so many walls to walk around.

Authority in Jesus' Name

There is a passage in Luke that I've always thought was weird and inapplicable, but now I know better.  We own a house in the country in the rolling hills and breaks due north of Amarillo.  Like all of rural west Texas, this area is dry, windy, sunny, and full of critters.  Although there are tarantulas, black widows, skunks and the occasional coyote, my two least favorite are rattlesnakes and scorpions.

Snakes and scorpions are the bane of the existence of any dweller in a temperate and arid landscape.  When we moved to our rural home, with three young children and no real safe outdoor space, we were worried about snakes and scorpions.  So instead of worrying about it we prayed that God would keep us safe from snakes and scorpions, and at the very lease that we would see them if they were around so that we could kill them before they harmed us.

When Jesus sent out the 72 disciples in Luke 10, they came back ecstatic about what they were able to accomplish in his name.  "Lord, even the demons are subject to us in your name!" they said.  And Jesus' response is kind of odd, which is typical for Jesus.

And he said to them, "I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven.  Behold, I have given you authority to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy, and nothing shall hurt you.  Nevertheless, do not rejoice in this, that the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven." - Luke 10:18-20 (ESV)

Whenever I have heard a preacher come to this passage of scripture, typically the words of Jesus here are described as symbolic.  And I understand why preachers are afraid of treating this passage as if it's literal.  For one thing, there are stupid people out there who will take a passage like this and build their religion around it.  I have heard of snake handlers and other lunatics who think it's somehow Godly to tempt death with a viper in your hands.  But I also think that we're afraid of treating this verse literally because, well, if I do get bitten by a snake, I don't want that to bring the truth of the words of Jesus into question.

In the two and a half years that we lived in our rural house we saw some scorpions and we saw some snakes.  In fact, I saw three rattlesnakes total - two diamondbacks and one prairie rattler - and I was able to kill all three without issue, without my kids around, and without fear.  Two of those snakes were within six or seven feet of me when I spotted them.  One night I remember there was a scorpion sitting on the threshold of our girls' room, and we were walking over it for a minute before we spotted it and killed it.  No one was stung.

Our rural house is now rented to a family, and recently they complained of having scorpions in the house.  They didn't complain of being stung, which I think is significant, but they have seen scorpions inside.  And I'm praying now over that house still, and over this family.  Because I know what the scripture says - it says that I will have authority over snakes and scorpions.  I'm not going to tempt death because of that, but I will speak the name of Jesus and walk in his authority.  And I will appreciate that this authority is very literal.

What we come back to

"Like a dog that returns to his vomit is a fool who repeats his folly." - Proverbs 26:11 (ESV)

Everybody has something that they come back to.  In the world of church vocabulary we call these people Backsliders, or we say the Devil "has a foothold."  With some people what they go back to is obvious: alcohol, sex, drugs, suicidal acts.  These folks receive a lot of pity and a lot of shaken heads and wagged fingers.  It sucks to be the one whose vomit is so apparent when the fact is that we're all going back to our vomit.  But if your vomit is fear, or anxiety, or self-loathing it's just not as obvious.  I've seen dogs go back to their vomit, and chances are that if you're a dog owner you've seen it too.  It's gross.  Your dog hacks something up and then he eats it.  Like I said, it's gross.  Sometimes they don't eat it right away.  Sometimes they kind of eat it surreptitiously so that you don't see since they know it pisses you off because it's gross.  And sometimes they dig right in until everything they hacked up is right back in.

I think these visuals are important.  The proverb itself is rather disgusting; a striking visual way to highlight a serious moral problem.  But without harping on the substance of what the proverb addresses, I'd rather point out that you have some vomit in your life.  We all do.  The fact of the matter is you're going to throw up and you're going to, at least once in a while, go back to that putrid pile of waste and pick through it for whatever it is you want.  More than likely you'll do it in shame and disgust.  More than likely you won't enjoy the experience.  But more than likely you'll do it.  You'll walk in fear again, or go back to the bottle, or call up your ex hoping she'll let you in her bed.  More than likely you'll do it; but you don't have to.

Here is the good news, which is what "gospel" means: God still loves you.  He sees you returning to the vomit and he loves you.  In fact, He knew that you would go back to it and He still loves you.  In greater fact, He knew all of the shortcomings and failures and vomit-eating awfulness of humanity and He still sent His son Jesus to save us all.  Happy ending.