frustrated tyrants

The Old Testament often comforts me with stories of wicked rulers who can’t stand up to God. Today, in reading of Absalom’s coup against David, Absalom was induced to ignore the good counsel of his wisest advisor, Ahithophel. But it wasn’t a random choice. 2 Samuel 27:14 says,  “For the Lord had determined to frustrate the good advice of Ahithophel in order to bring disaster on Absalom.”

As happens so often in Old Testament history, a man who thought he was winning was in fact being manipulated by God. God raised up Absalom to discipline David, but David was still God’s man. Absalom could only act inside the boundaries of God’s intent. And in the end, Absalom took advice that got him defeated and killed.

This world is full of tyrants and despots and arrogant, self-serving people.  Some are in places like Russia and North Korea, and some closer to home. Some even run for president. And often it seems likely these worldly people are winning. Their violence of speech and action intimidates the rest of us, or at least renders our gentle good manners ineffective.

But God will not be defied, and God has a plan for me. He won’t be deterred by ISIS attacks or a bad president or a back-stabbing co-worker. In fact, sometimes those people are going to do exactly the best thing for me. They might do it for their own reasons, or they might not really understand why. But they will follow God’s plan. They don’t have a choice.

There’s a lot of comfort in that, especially now when this country’s leadership seems either nuts or missing in action. Every man and woman on earth bows to God’s will.

no longer banished

This morning, I read about the violence that came to David’s family after his sin with Bathsheba. I read about the rape of Tamar, the murder of Amnon, and the flight of Absalom. And then there’s that great episode where David’s advisor Joab sends a widow in to see David. This woman has a made-up story designed to get David to allow Absalom to return home.

The woman said something to David that made me, for the first time, put myself in Absalom’s place. I think of Absalom as a villain, but now I see that in this whole story he might represent me.

In 2 Samuel 14:14 the widow says to David, “‘Like water spilled on the ground, which cannot be recovered, so we must die. But that is not what God desires; rather, he devises ways so that a banished person does not remain banished from him.’”

That’s a verse about me. I’m twice banished, the first time an inherited banishment I got from Father Adam and my own inherent bent toward evil, and the second through my own choices, which led me far from God. Just like the prodigal son, except I’ve left more than once.

But, the wise widow says, God devises ways so that I don’t remain banished. The big way is the cross, which healed my broken relationship with God once for all time. But every day there are little ways, small graces that come in the form of encouraging words and helping hands that keep me close to God’s people, and therefore to God.

On my own, I’m self-destructive, drawn to this glittering world like a moth to a candle. But by God’s grace, I don’t have to live a single moment on my own. He brought me back from banishment, and won’t let me go again.

wrong place

Sometimes there’s something you’ve known a long time that hits you. I had that this morning, reading about David in 2 Samuel. I realized that one simple verse, 2 Samuel 11:1, is the pivot point that marks a huge change of direction in the life of David, and Israel.

That verse says this: “In the spring, at the time when kings go off to war, David sent Joab out with the king's men and the whole Israelite army. They destroyed the Ammonites and besieged Rabbah. But David remained in Jerusalem.” 

David made a decision not to do his job. He decided to stay home instead of doing what kings were supposed to do, lead their troops. Idling instead of working, he gets into trouble with Bathsheba, compounds it with the murder of Uriah, and nothing will ever be the same again. Up till now, both books of Samuel are filled with stories of David’s amazing victories. After this, most of David’s fighting will be with his own family, as punishment for his sin. And all of Israel would suffer with him.

I remember singing as a child, “Oh, be careful, little feet, where you go.” It has often struck me since then how much temptation and trouble could be avoided simply by being in good places and not going to other places. Business travelers who go to restaurants instead of bars stay more faithful to their spouses. Teenagers who party in parents’ homes instead of at the river access are less likely to get drunk. Retirees who spend time on the golf course instead of the casino are less likely to go broke. 

There were a lot of other “be carefuls” in that song, but it strikes me that this one of place is important to me. I know where I should be and what I should be doing. When I choose someplace else or something else, my thoughts are on myself instead of serving. My attitude is self-indulgent instead of helpful. And then when I run into temptation I have to find, somewhere in that mood of self-centeredness, the strength to fight for right. I’m at a disadvantage.

God’s blessing is where God is. When I go somewhere else, why should I expect blessing?

humiliation

I thought I’d outgrow the peer pressure I felt in high school. I thought maybe someday I’d stop dressing and acting in ways I thought would impress other people. But it’s still hard.

There’s a lot I don’t get about King David, but what’s probably the most bizarre to me is his episode of dancing in front of the ark. I read about it in 2 Samuel 6, about the criticism he got from his wife Michal afterwards, and his reply in verses 21 and 22: “I will celebrate before the Lord. I will become even more undignified than this, and I will be humiliated in my own eyes."

The dancing and celebration I kind of get, even though I might be too self-conscious to do it, especially after being corrected by my wife. But to say I’m willing to be even more undignified and humiliated, even to myself, if that’s what God wants? I’m not sure I’d be able to do that.

The problem is, to avoid ridicule in this world almost requires hiding the fact that I’m a Christian. Even in my so-called Christian community, I daily run into ethical arguments I don’t understand. When I argue that fair value is more important than maximum profit, I’m sometimes called a prog or liberal by other businessmen. When I speak against the use of force to solve problems, my military friends might call me a coward - I remember that vividly from military ethics classes as a young officer. When I suggest family time might be more important than dedication to a sport, some people have simply stopped talking to me. Even here, in this small town with more churches than bars, I’ve learned to be very, very careful with the topic of LGBT issues.

Sometimes I feel like a weirdo trying to stand for what’s right. Sometimes I am mocked for things I say, and on a few occasions even humiliated. It happens often enough that now I’m just as likely to stay out of it as I am to dance when the Lord dances or to work with Him for restoration.

The truth is, I am a bit of a coward, but not for the reasons my soldier buddies thought. I’m not really afraid of physical injury. I’m afraid of not being liked, not being included. I’m afraid people will think I’m pathetic. I fear being different. 

But different - distinctive is the word we Christians use - is what I’m called to be. 

doing God's will

I’m not alone in being alarmed at the prospects in this election year. We’re down to four candidates, none of whom seems to me would make a good president. I fear that over the next four years our economy will continue to stumble, and our geopolitical relationships will worsen, and morality will continue to erode.

Reading this morning from 1 Samuel was a comfort, though. I read part of the story of King Saul and his general, David. Saul, with all the might and authority at his disposal, sends groups of men to kill David, but whenever they get close the Spirit of God causes them to forget their mission and prophesy. 

Finally, Saul goes himself (1 Samuel 19:23-24.)  “So Saul went to Naioth at Ramah. But the Spirit of God came even on him, and he walked along prophesying until he came to Naioth. He stripped off his garments, and he too prophesied in Samuel's presence. He lay naked all that day and all that night. This is why people say, ‘Is Saul also among the prophets?’”

Another place in the same chapter, God sent an evil spirit (Really? An evil spirit from God? That’s what scripture says) to goad Saul into a murderous rage. Saul, who thinks he’s in control, can do nothing except what God wants to fulfill his plan.

Much as a godly president would bless our nation, even an ungodly president will do God’s will. No man or woman, not even the leader of the most powerful nation on earth, can thwart God. 

So instead of worrying about a looming Trump-Clinton general election, I’ll concentrate on being more like David, a man after God’s own heart. Under God’s care, Saul was helpless to harm David. Under God’s care, my soul is safe and my future is assured.

stuck in the past

There are two chapters in my life that ended years ago that I still miss. One is my 25-year National Guard career and the other is the dozen or so years I spent singing with a quartet. Sometimes it can be hard to move on.

In 1 Samuel 16:1, the Lord said to Samuel, "How long will you mourn for Saul, since I have rejected him as king over Israel? Fill your horn with oil and be on your way; I am sending you to Jesse of Bethlehem. I have chosen one of his sons to be king."

Samuel got stuck at a certain point in the story of God’s people and couldn’t move past it. God had wonderful years in mind for Israel, but first Samuel had to get over to Bethlehem and anoint the new king. 

It reminds me not to linger in the past. It reminds me that life has chapters, and the best ones are often at the end of the book. It reminds me that following God will lead me forward, not back, and that even though life will constantly change, the important fact of His providence won’t.

My kids have grown, and my grandkids are growing. I have a financial planner now, because although not imminent, retirement is in sight. My aging body doesn’t go the miles as willingly as it used to. It would be easy to think of the good years already gone, and assume the ones coming won’t be as good.

But I keep finding myself in new situations where I’m surprisingly effective. With age comes context, even if it’s just knowing what the mistakes look and feel like. I find I can see clarity and simplicity in things that seem complicated. I can use that to help people, to calm them, to walk them through. It blesses them and me.

Being a soldier and a singer, along with a hundred other experiences, made me who I am right now. And right now, God has things going on that will thrill me, if I just stay with the program.

God's timing

Saul was a terrible king, but I often feel kind of bad for him. Saul did a lot of things I might have done. 

For instance, in 1 Samuel 13, Saul is outnumbered, his enemies are ready to attack, and his own army is shrinking by desertion every day. Saul is waiting for the priest Samuel to offer a sacrifice to God before the battle, but Samuel hasn’t come. Out of time, Saul does it himself, and just as he finishes, there comes Samuel, who demands to know what Saul has done. 

Verses 11 and 12 say, “Saul replied, ‘When I saw that the men were scattering, and that you did not come at the set time, and that the Philistines were assembling at Mikmash, I thought, “Now the Philistines will come down against me at Gilgal, and I have not sought the Lord 's favor.” So I felt compelled to offer the burnt offering.’"

For this, Saul’s chance at a family dynasty is ended. Because he disobeyed, God would find another king for Israel. But, I want to protest, Saul was the commander in the field, the guy in contact with the enemy, the one who had to fight. Samuel was the un-disciplined non-combatant who didn’t show up on time. Military operations require precise timing, and the exigencies of the battlefield demanded action!

I want to say that because I’m looking at it as a problem for people to solve. I forget that God had it handled. Samuel wasn’t late, he was right on time.

God’s timing never looks right to me. I often think, “Really? Now? I sure could have used that yesterday.” Or maybe, “Not now, Lord, look at my schedule! Maybe next month?” That’s because I don’t trust, and because I sometimes have different priorities than God.

My timing is usually about what’s easy and convenient for me, which is another way of saying I’m self-centered. I think if I was less wrapped up in myself and more attentive to the needs of God’s people, I’d more often be amazed than frustrated by God’s timing.

sin of omission

There’s a sin I commit all the time that I don’t know if I’ve ever acknowledge to God, much less repented of. That’s because I don’t see it as a sin. But this morning, in 1 Samuel 12:23, I read these words of Samuel: “As for me, far be it from me that I should sin against the Lord by failing to pray for you.” 

Context is important here. Samuel was telling the people that God would give them the king they demanded, even though that was a slap in the face for Samuel, who had led them faithfully his whole life. Samuel explained to them “the evil they had done in wanting a king.” 

Even so, even though the people insulted and offended him and did evil against God, Samuel prayed for them. He did that because not to pray would have been a sin against the Lord. Not to pray for evil people who had wronged him would have been a sin against God.

When bad people do bad things to me, my first thought isn’t to pray for them. In fact, I don’t often pray for good people who make me mad. I never thought that was a sin, though. I’ve always been focused on my own righteous anger. In fact, I may occasionally have wished for something bad to happen to that person.

Why would it be a sin against God not to pray for people who wrong me? Maybe because by not praying I’m not turning to God for help. Maybe because I’m seeing the situation as me against the other person, not me and the other person against Satan. Maybe what I’m really doing is abandoning one of my own, an image-bearer of God, to our true enemy. Maybe because what my own soul needs, what obedience to God demands, is that I forgive no matter what.

This is going to be a hard one for me. I like to think I forgive easily, but the truth is I don’t forget very quickly. And the idea of praying for some of those people . . . well, I need to do it. 

When people gossip, I like to say, “I won’t talk about that person with you until you pray for that person with me.” Saying that doesn’t very often end in prayer; usually it just kills the conversation. But I mean it. I need to mean it for the people I don’t like, too.

no negotiations

As a boy, I used to bargain with God. If he would get me something I wanted, or would spare me the consequences of my own stupidity, then I would be extra good, or pray more, or do something else I thought God might value.

Rather than negotiate with God, adults are more likely to try to manipulate him. That’s what Hophni and Phinehas, Eli’s two priest-sons, did. They thought that if they brought the Ark of the Covenant into battle against the Philistines, God would have to fight the Philistines. Otherwise the Ark would be desecrated.

The story played out in three simple sentences in 1 Samuel 4:10-11. “So the Philistines fought, and the Israelites were defeated and every man fled to his tent. The slaughter was very great; Israel lost thirty thousand foot soldiers. The ark of God was captured, and Eli's two sons, Hophni and Phinehas, died.”

On that day, a disastrous defeat was God’s preferred course. Maybe that’s because it most clearly revealed to Israel the true relationship between Him and them. They were to inquire of God, and then obey. To decide on their own and then attempt to drag God along showed a badly distorted understanding of the covenant.

God doesn’t care as much about my won-lost record day to day as he does about how I see Him in relationship to me. Probably, if I think even once that I got God to serve me, I’d try it all the time after that. What God wants from me is an inquiring openness that says, “Just help me see what you want, Lord, and I’ll do it. Just help me trust that this hard thing isn’t too hard for you.”

first things first

I love the story of Gideon, the timid guy from the weakest tribe who God found in a hole in the ground and turned into a great warrior. Gideon and his 300 routed the vast hordes of Midian and sent them running, delivering God’s people.

It was a mighty work done by the might of God, but before Gideon could do that, God had a smaller job for him. I read about it in Judges 6:25-26 “That same night the Lord said to him, ‘Take the second bull from your father's herd, the one seven years old. Tear down your father's altar to Baal and cut down the Asherah pole beside it. Then build a proper kind of altar to the Lord your God on the top of this height. Using the wood of the Asherah pole that you cut down, offer the second bull as a burnt offering.’"

The first thing was to end Baal worship in his own family and town. The second was to build a place of true worship there. Only then was Gideon ready to do God’s work.

See, that’s why I love this story. Gideon was a poor follower of God, just like me. Gideon had dabbled in Baal worship along with everyone else, just like I flirt with worldly things. But where I tend to think my sin disqualifies me for God’s work, this story reminds me that none of us really qualify, but that all of us are clay God can mold into whatever his people need.

As flawed as I am, God takes my efforts on His behalf and makes something from them. That’s another form of grace, else the fruit I show would be a poor harvest indeed. But to start I need to turn my back on my little clay gods and give true worship. First things first.

lead and follow

It’s one of the first things you learn as a young sergeant or lieutenant: if you’re in charge, take charge. This saying recognizes that a lot of people get into leadership positions who don’t want to impose themselves on others. They don’t assert themselves.

As you gain more rank, though, there’s a corollary that is added to this rule: if you’re in charge, take charge, but if you’re not, don’t. That’s because people used to authority forget how to follow. They get on teams or committees and disrupt things, because you can’t have two leaders.

After the Judge Deborah lead General Barak to free the Israelites in Judges 4, she composed a song of commemoration, which starts like this (Judges 5:2) "When the princes in Israel take the lead, when the people willingly offer themselves—praise the Lord!”

God’s people need leaders. But Godly leaders won’t help if God’s people don’t follow. It strikes me this morning that both are legitimate callings. Brothers and sisters put in leadership positions need to step up and lead, keeping in mind that leaders seek what is good for their followers. But for most of us, in fact all of us at times, obedience will mean putting our shoulders to the wheel under the guidance of someone else.

Deborah recognized that her victory came from faithful followers of obedience leaders. In fact, she says “Praise the Lord!,” which means she knew that this is not only God-honoring but a blessing to God’s people.

I need to see that if I am called to lead but don’t, my church suffers. And when leaders call for workers, or participants, I need to respond or the church suffers. And in both cases I’m the worse for it too.

telling stories

I’m part of that branch of God’s family that doesn’t express itself well. We Calvinists have been called dour, and there’s no doubt we’re on the whole private and not give to excessive displays of emotion. So I don’t talk a lot about the things I’ve seen God do, but I need to.

Judges 2:7, 10-11 states why. “The people served the Lord throughout the lifetime of Joshua and of the elders who outlived him and who had seen all the great things the Lord had done for Israel. . . . After that whole generation had been gathered to their ancestors, another generation grew up who knew neither the Lord nor what he had done for Israel. Then the Israelites did evil in the eyes of the Lord and served the Baals.”

If we don’t tell our stories, how will our kids and grandkids know that God is real? How will new believers dare to have faith in this God that the rest of the world laughs at or has declared dead? If they don’t hear that God lives and loves from us, won’t they too serve something else?

There’s nothing in my life to compare to Noah’s Ark or the feeding of 5,000, but it is a consistent record of a faithful God who has never failed to keep his promises. It’s a story of a thousand small and not-so-small provisions that could be called luck but actually answered prayers. It’s a story of protection and deliverance and providence and blessing. Most of all, it’s a story of how I came to be so much better even though at heart I’m a weak, self-centered person.

Those are all God things, much as I hate the phrase. But if I don’t tell people that, especially people who didn’t see me at my neediest, they won’t know what God did. He won’t get the glory, so they’ll follow some other thing.

Verse 10 above says, “ . . . another generation grew up who neither knew the Lord nor what he had done . . .” May that never be true of my tribe.

faithful warriors

I think Steve Green sang it: “May all who come behind us find us faithful.” I was reminded of those lyrics this morning when four verses in Joshua 22 convicted me. 

“Then Joshua summoned the Reubenites, the Gadites and the half- tribe of Manasseh and said to them, ‘You have done all that Moses the servant of the Lord commanded, and you have obeyed me in everything I commanded. For a long time now—to this very day—you have not deserted your fellow Israelites but have carried out the mission the Lord your God gave you. Now that the Lord your God has given them rest as he promised, return to your homes in the land that Moses the servant of the Lord gave you on the other side of the Jordan.’” Joshua 22:1-4.

That record - years of faithful service far from home - reminded me that such service is not only possible, but also a marker of God’s people. And it also reminded me of how often I’ve been AWOL.

Unlike these three tribes, I too often look toward the comforts of home and leisure when duty, in the form of committee assignments and church needs, calls. I have opted out of too many fights. I am picky in choosing when and where I serve, and who I allow to lead me. I wonder if those who follow will find me faithful.

But at my best, when God’s changing work is having its effect, that’s not me. Sometimes I’m right there, tirelessly pushing at the wheel or pulling at the rope. Sometimes I’m the one giving field first aid to a wounded comrade. And every day I go to Scripture to wrestle with how to live.

In the end, it’s God who is faithful. I see again that the best me is found only in him.

no failure

It’s been a long couple of months reading of the journey of the Israelites from famine-stricken Canaan to Egypt, into and out of slavery, and through the desert. But, at the end of Joshua 21 they’re home and settled, and we read this: “Not one of all the Lord's good promises to Israel failed; every one was fulfilled.” Joshua 21:45 45

This is why I love reading the Old Testament. God did mighty things then, and God doesn’t change. He’s the same good God, and not one of all of his promises to me has failed; every one has been fulfilled.

My journey has been more experiential than geographic. It meanders from Christian schools to Basic Training, from a college experience I didn’t enjoy (no fault to the college) through a series of jobs that were practical but not loved, into and out of military operations, some of which were training and some weren’t. At the end of it all, my faith and my body and my mind have all been challenged, and show the scars to prove it.

That makes it sound like a hard life; it isn’t. There were some hard things, but my childhood sweetheart grew into the woman of my dreams and together we have two kids who turned into amazing adults. I turned out to be a pretty good soldier, got promoted, and had a chance to make a difference in some hard places. God also led me to the top levels of our business and put me in a place where in addition to working for a company that does good in the world, I can do good for people every day.

All of God’s promises held. His promise to go with me, to never leave me. His promise to work all things together for my good. His promise to never let me be tempted unless there was also a way out. His promise to love eternally and forgive endlessly. His promise to make me more like Him every day I spend close to him. His promise that each day I will have everything I need to live, and to live obediently.

So I know that the other promises, the ones not yet seen, are just as sure. I can live victoriously, even though some days don’t feel like victory. Not once has God ever failed his people. It just can’t happen.

lucky

In the Army, as in sports, there’s an almost superstitious belief in luck. “Being lucky is as good as being good” is said a lot. Some people seem to “make their own luck.” In a serious discussion of the role of luck, I once heard a senior officer say that what looks like luck is just a very well-prepared person taking advantage of a very small window of opportunity.

Luck is a dirty word in Calvinist circles. We even had a pastor once who wouldn’t use the term “potluck” for church dinners. He called them “pot-providences.”

I thought about all that as I read three chapters detailing how the Promised Land was divided up and apportioned to the Israelites. Some tribes were assigned pieces of land, some requested them. But for seven tribes it was the so-called “luck of the draw.” 

Joshua 18:9-10: “So the men left and went through the land. They wrote its description on a scroll, town by town, in seven parts, and returned to Joshua in the camp at Shiloh. Joshua then cast lots for them in Shiloh in the presence of the Lord, and there he distributed the land to the Israelites according to their tribal divisions.”

Casting lots isn’t the game of chance it looks like to outsiders, not when it’s done like this. Our church chooses elders by voting to select a pool, and then drawing from a hat. We do this because we believe that the draw isn’t random; church leadership is God’s business and God guides the draw. Human politics are removed as a factor.

I believe that our selection process truly is controlled by God. And I ponder about so-called luck in the rest of my life. One the one hand, I believe in God’s providence, and I also believe he controls every atom and nano-particle in this world. On the other hand, I wonder think sometimes he simply allows natural laws of cause and effect and interaction to produce results. 

If that’s true, when that happens the purpose likely is to give me a chance to handle it, to prove my obedience in action. Surely being knocked around a little bit by life helps build my faith, and gives me context to become more holy. There has to be some room for free will; otherwise, I could justify my sin by saying God pre-ordained it.

It’s a complicated question and I’m sure the seminary-trained theologians out there have all kinds of lecture material they could dump on the topic. For me, it’s more interesting, and faith-forming, to muse at the mystery. Because in the end I discard luck and trust God.

trust like Caleb

I don’t know if there’s a more clear case of the rewards of trusting God than the story of Caleb. Caleb was on the original reconnaissance patrol into Canaan, and with Joshua was the only one who trusted God enough to attack the strong people they found there. Because the rest didn’t, the Israelites would wander the desert another 40 years, until that generation died off. 

But then, all those decades later, Caleb goes to Joshua and says, "Now then, just as the Lord promised, he has kept me alive for forty- five years since the time he said this to Moses, while Israel moved about in the wilderness. So here I am today, eighty- five years old! I am still as strong today as the day Moses sent me out; I'm just as vigorous to go out to battle now as I was then.” (Joshua 14:10-11) Caleb asks for the territory with the most difficult enemies, and conquers it, still trusting God against what looks like overwhelming odds.

It shames me, for two reasons. The first is, I don’t trust like that. I look at something scary and say, “Nope.” I gauge the risk as one step in deciding if I think it’s God’s will. Obviously, with that kind of opposition this is a closed door, right? Aren’t those boogie men hints from God not to go that way? I wonder how many invitations from God I’ve refused over the years because I saw them through my eyes and not Caleb’s.

The other reason, which may be linked to the first, is I’m not really looking for strenuous assignments. I like to say, “Life doesn’t always have to keep getting harder.” With my current attitude I don’t see myself at age 85 volunteering for the toughest job God’s people face. 

It’s because I think too much like the world, and I look too far down the road. I would love to learn how to take a day at a time, doing what God gives me today, trusting his providence for tomorrow. So far, I don’t live that way, but I’m working on it.

just war

At every level of officer training I attended, from the Platoon Leader’s Course to Command and General Staff Officer College, we wrestled with the concept of what makes a war just. It was an important discussion for me, a Christian in uniform.

I’ve been told many times, by Christians of all stripes, that there is no such thing as just war. But this morning I read in three chapters of Joshua the history of the Israelites’ fight for their new homeland. The story was summarized in Joshua 10:42: “All these kings and their lands Joshua conquered in one campaign, because the Lord, the God of Israel, fought for Israel.”

So that war, at least, was clearly just. But what makes another war just is less clear. One traditional consideration has been to oppose evil, and defense of the helpless is another. But those concepts are beginning to fray. Americans as a whole disagreed that the evil of Saddam Hussein justified the most recent war in Iraq, and in fact no longer agree on the concept of evil. And America took a pass when the world called on us to protect the defenseless in Rwanda and Darfur. In fact, our current President is the first who has not explained his rationale for why his use of the military meets the requirements of just war, preferring instead a pragmatic approach.

Especially in an election year this is a critical question for me. I can’t reject the use of military force out of hand, because we have a military and we will use it, and because I think verses like the one above demonstrate that sometimes the use of force is appropriate.

But not very often, and then it is critical that we as a nation lay out the moral and legal case for war before we begin. As a voter, an important question to ask is, “How will this candidate use our military?” It seems to me that a good indicator of the answer is the candidate’s use of power in other forms. 

At the same time, I need to search my heart to see how I view power, and how I use it when I have it. Power used in any way except on behalf of the powerless creeps toward abuse.

providence

I used to backpack. The thing about backpacking is keeping the weight of your pack down; you don’t take anything you don’t need. So the process of meal planning becomes critical, a balance between adding pounds on your back and feeling full when you eat. Meals are defined not by quantity, but by nutritional adequacy. It’s all about getting just enough of the right stuff.

I thought of those days when I read Joshua 5:12 “The manna stopped the day after they ate this food from the land; there was no longer any manna for the Israelites, but that year they ate the produce of Canaan.” This took place when the Israelites had crossed the river into Canaan and were camped on the plains in front of Jericho. They had arrived; there was no longer any need for trail food. 

This seems to me a telling snapshot of God’s providence. For many long decades he sustained his people in their desert wanderings with miracle food. Once in Canaan, the land flowing with milk and honey, he stopped giving manna. He didn’t stop providing - he gave them this rich land, after all - but he did it in a new way appropriate to their new circumstance.

I see two comforting things in this. First, if God ever sends me to a hard place or through a hard time, his providence will be enough for that too. Even if it takes a miracle, he’ll give me what I need to obey him.

Second, his providence is tailor-made for me. It changes with my needs and times. He won’t make me eat manna when I’m surrounded by milk and honey. He won’t keep giving me miracle food when what I most need in my new place is something else.

God provides. He really does provide, exactly the thing that’s needed exactly at the point it’s needed. Not too early, or I might not turn to him. Or more likely, I’ll start to think I’m entitled. And not too late. The perfect balance of enough, always.

trust

I don’t like not knowing. To me information is critical to good decisions. My experiences so far make me think that what I don’t know will hurt me somehow. So even though I don’t join them, I sympathize with Christians who pore through Scripture and watch for omens, trying to figure out what God will do and when, what heaven and hell are all about, what’s going on with angels and demons. These seem like important things, and I want to know.

But I don’t need to know. Everything I need to know has already been told to me. Deuteronomy 29:29 says, “The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but the things revealed belong to us and to our children forever, that we may follow all the words of this law.”

When we say someone has secrets, we usually mean something bad. But God has his secrets, and I believe it’s for my own good. I believe that some of what God holds back would just confuse me and make me doubt - I can’t understand the things of God any more than an ant could understand quantum physics. 

Some of what he holds back might be dangerous. There might be things that would tempted me to try to influence the future, or play with spiritual power. And some things might be secrets just because I’m not ready yet, like the old birds-and-bees talk that is too much information for toddlers.

I know everything I need to know. The rest I take on faith, and that in the end may be the whole point. In this culture of science and knowing, God wants my trust. And it isn’t trust if he has to prove he has it all covered.

blessings and enemies

Sometimes God’s idea of blessings doesn’t exactly match mine. 

In Deuteronomy 28 God tells how he will bless his people if they obey. Tucked in among the long list of wonderful things is this, in verse 7: “The Lord will grant that the enemies who rise up against you will be defeated before you. They will come at you from one direction but flee from you in seven.”

To me, a good blessing would be not to have any enemies at all. I think a lot of people are like me. We want everyone to like us, just like we want to have fun all day and not work. There’s a great American blessing: everyone should love me so much that they provide for me, and I don’t have to work.

God intends to bless me in a different way. He says, “As you work, I will bless you by . . . .” He says, “When enemies rise up against you . . . .” Under God’s blessing I’ll be better equipped to do work and deal with enemies. 

Why can’t he just make life easy for me? It seems that in some way that would be bad for me - I’d die in the end of affluenza. 

Jesus didn’t live an easy life. Jesus spent every day serving people and doing God’s work. Jesus made a lot of enemies, people who were lied to by Satan and thought Jesus threatened their good life. 

Jesus, who showed me what perfect obedience looks like, had hardship and enemies in his life. God plans to put those things in mine too, as a way of developing and proving my faith. But he will walk every one of those hard paths with me. That’s the great blessing.

happily married

This morning, another of those snippets of scripture that always captures my imagination.

The verse is Deuteronomy 24:5, which says, “If a man has recently married, he must not be sent to war or have any other duty laid on him. For one year he is to be free to stay at home and bring happiness to the wife he has married.”

My first reaction to this verse is to think how society would change if we did this now. Then my imagination meanders through images of marital bliss followed by boredom and then by laziness and idleness and then the struggle to re-enter the workplace. I know, I have an uncanny knack for dumping cold water on beautiful ideas. At least I’m not as bad as a friend who jokes that we’re only required to keep our wives happy for the first year. Or maybe after a year of being underfoot the best way to make them happy is to get out of the house

I think there’s truth hidden in my musings, cynical though they may be, because we struggle to get marriage right. One strong hint in this verse for husbands is that our wives want our time and attention. God thinks one way to get a married started right is for anything that would divert a man from his wife to be put aside. Maybe he had to command that because he knows that, given the chance, we husbands tend to spend our time afield. He focuses us back on our homes.

And the purpose is the happiness of our wives. For me that’s both a daunting challenge - you could fill books with jokes whose punchlines are about how impossible it is to know what women want - and a wonderful promise that, done right, marriage is a source of great joy. It’s like God is telling me I don’t have to try to make myself happy with wealth or accomplishments or diversions. In my marriage he’s already given me happiness.

There’s a line in a poem I once read that calls marriage “both highest heaven and deepest hell.” But I get to pick which it will be for me. And if I want the first one, God tells me how.

just business

I sometimes do things that other people think I shouldn’t. For example, I’m willing to have financial dealings with family members without signing documents. I know that’s not recommended, but for some reason it feels better to me.

It’s hard for me to explain, but reading Deuteronomy 23:19-20 makes me want to try. Those verses say, “Do not charge a fellow Israelite interest, whether on money or food or anything else that may earn interest. You may charge a foreigner interest, but not a fellow Israelite, so that the Lord your God may bless you in everything you put your hand to in the land you are entering to possess.”

These verses tell me two things. One, charging interest isn’t bad; it’s permitted in this case for foreigners. But the second thing is, charging interest to God’s people is one of God’s “Do nots.” 

Why would that be? I think it has to do with the servant heart God wants me to have. He wants me to use what he has blessed me with to bless others. If I charge interest, it’s a good deal for me, so I’m really just helping myself. 

Life conditions me to protect my money, to make sure none of it slips away or no one takes it. God wants me to use my money for God-glorifying purposes. He grants me wealth for reasons that have nothing to do with my own security.

One of those reasons is that my blessings are meant in some way to help the body of believers. There’s a saying related to economics that goes, “A rising tide floats every boat.” I’m trying to look at my wealth as part of God’s rising tide for kingdom needs, meant for more boats than just mine.

witchcraft

I met my first witch about 20 year ago, on a military base. Her coven was using a wooded part of the base for rituals. Federal law required that we allow free expression of religion; base regulation authorized me to have a veterinary doctor at any event that involved animals. She objected, I stood firm, and she found a different place for their ceremonies.

Since then the frequency of my encounters with Wiccans, as they now are known, has increased, reflecting society’s fascination with the occult.

God hates witchcraft, which is different than saying he hates witches. But he made his feelings clear in Deuteronomy 18:10-12 “Let no one be found among you who . . . practices divination or sorcery, interprets omens, engages in witchcraft, or casts spells, or who is a medium or spiritist or who consults the dead. Anyone who does these things is detestable to the Lord . . . .”

I think one reason God hates the occult is the reason he is angered by false prophets. (Verse 20 reads, “But a prophet who presumes to speak in my name anything I have not commanded, or a prophet who speaks in the name of other gods, is to be put to death.") God wants his own words to be the only thing we use to understand him. He doesn’t want us to guess by looking at animal entrails or weather patterns. He doesn’t want us deciding for ourselves. 

I wonder how often I’ve been guilty of this? In all those times I’ve been sure of God’s will, so sure that I even told others, how often did my ideas come from somewhere other than God’s revelation? If it ever does, I’m as wrong as the witches.