Krissi

Most Western Christians are unaware of their own religious idols and therefore have no idea how they function in the mind of a believer. For example, Christians have idols that they’ve renamed icons, art, jewelry, the sacred, or religious representation. Religious jewelry can function as a talisman if merely touching the jewelry, like a rabbit’s foot, is thought to confer strength. I knew someone who fingered her cross during exams, as if this would help her memory. The need to substantiate or make into physical form the object of faith or belief is very deeply rooted in the human psyche. It’s ancient. Constitutive. It takes effort to be aware of our icons and then overcome them. We’re more subtle, today, but still we have idols. An idol isn’t just something we value more than God, as if it were a misplaced priority. It’s not something we put before God in our affection – something that wrongly takes “first place” in our heart. An idol doesn’t have to substitute for God but it must contain God in ways that other objects do not. For example, holy ground, the sanctuary of the church, secretly worn religious jewelry, even the prayers of a religious hero or pastor! We are like the woman who crawled toward Jesus to touch his garment who treated Him as an idol whose clothing was “charmed.” It’s the idea that there are special places where God resides … His “divine ground.” There’s a lot of this in church today and among more educated people. Conferring divine power into things or places is a temptation. Perhaps we do this because it's easier/safer to go to God obliquely rather than directly confront Him, to see his backside rather than His face. Because I felt His presence strongly in a place, I had to fight the emotional (irrational) association of God with that place. I don’t think it is wrong to have a place that helps me clear my mind and focus on Him as long as it doesn’t function as an idol. Several years ago when I bottomed out in life, I would hike to the top of a mountain that looked out over a “fourteener” – a mountain more than 14,000 feet in elevation – because being up there comforted me: birds fighting the upsweeping wind were inspiring, strangely, and I felt as if I had left below me, literally, a horrible life. I would escape up, up and up to “my spot” every day. There, I prayed. At one point, however, I stopped going. The need remained but it was met internally. This took years. It’s important that I can feel God’s presence at all times, places and situations. In the near future during which I am certain I’ll need to feel His quiet presence, the cultivation of reaching toward Him in crowds, secular places, among evil people, etc., will be greatly needed. I don’t expect to have the luxury of a quiet time in a safe, sacred place. Right now, I’m studying Orthodoxy, the Eastern branch of Christianity. They have icons galore, imagery within the church and outside of it, and home shrines. This is part of the legitimate way they express their faith. It’s limiting, however, which is why there is such a strong and corrective tradition of mysticism in that branch of Christian faith. They escape the concrete/idols with mystical, intense experiences of God that transcend not only place and object, but space and time. The Christians in that branch don’t need to “throw out” their icons and images but rather outgrow them.

Holiness means to be cut away from the main thing – kadosh. I don’t read Hebrew but I believe that holy derives its meaning in juxtaposition to profane (sacred v. profane). Since most things are profane, holiness must be rare. Somehow, we’re to understand holiness as perfection cut away from imperfection. In our lived lives, we become holier incrementally and only partially. The Wesleyan doctrine of achievable perfection is just too big of a stretch -- it's an impossibility. I've never met a Christian who has lived a holy life for even a millisecond. Who is without sin? Sin is a fact of life, even after salvation. Thus, sanctification is sin's gradual removal. To the degree we improve ourselves, it's the work of the Holy Spirit in us, but as I write this, I know that we, too, have a role in our own sanctification -- willingness, submission, determination, self-exposure and a desire to be more pure. Yes, holiness should be an aim, but this is a distant aim on a bullseye on a target almost out of sight. Frankly, it's such an inconceivable goal that perhaps we should focus on achieving, with the assistance and power of the Holy Spirit, a goal more proximate, such as not wanting vengeance in a very particular situation or with a named person.

Of course we can do things on our own. We can accomplish quite a bit, in fact -- think of secular people who have been great inventors, political leaders, etc. They didn't rely on God to get things done. When we become Christian, we don't lose our abilities and strength. These native talents and abilities persist, but now they're submitted to God. We use them differently. In the bigger things of life, we ask first ... move later. The possibilities we face are: We can do it ourselves but are asked, by God, to wait, restrain ourselves, or just not do it. We can do most of it ourselves but need God to "finish the job" We can't do it at all. It's beyond our ability. If it gets done, it's wholly His working. Personally, in my life, I'm always tempted to DO SOMETHING, not wait for God. Waiting is difficult for me. God gives His green lights after long delays, it seems. I don't think I've ever been tempted to expect God to do something for me but there have been many times when the ratio between my labor and His work has not been calculated correctly. In my experience, most of the time God expects me to do what I can do, but only after waiting and praying. It's not pride that makes me want to do something but the sight of a need or a circumstances that has to be "straightened out" which I could do. God is teaching me to sit back and NOT DO what I want to do. I'm chomping at the bit. When He knows I'll move too quickly, He shuts doors and makes it impossible to accomplish anything. Believe me, this is a hard lesson. Some say that what we do is really of God because He controls the world and has created us the way we are -- thus, anything we do is ultimately traced back to Him. This is a compelling argument but it doesn't ring true in daily life. When I do something, particularly a mundane chore, I'm doing it. Not God. I feel the compulsion and set myself to do the task. Most things in life are done prayerlessly because they have to be done and compose the backdrop of life. I don't ask God for permission or the correct timing to do the dirty dishes. I just do them. Why? Because I can ... and they are.

Achsah's so-called “full” inheritance is the land she had been given before she asked for water – the springs were in addition to her inheritance. In other words, she asked for more than she was entitled to. She must not have felt that her inheritance was enough, or, maybe, she could have been looking to the future and staving off any problems that could arise if she didn’t have a stable source of water on her property. I’m looking for property right now so understand how important is a source of above-ground water, particularly in an arid desert. The strongest woman in the scriptures I can think of is the woman who simply wouldn’t stop harassing the judge until he ruled justly … in her favor. This had nothing to do with her gender but much to do with a tenacious personality and ability to cling to what God could do if He so chose.

Caleb treats his daughter like a good to be bartered, using her as a motivational "carrot" in a contest to determine who would best overwhelm and presumably genocide Kiriath Sepher. In a time of war, one desires victory not defeat so this aspect of Caleb's behavior makes sense. He wanted to win. But the fact that he had a contest suggests that he wasn't worried about the outcome of the battle (otherwise he would have been more involved). It's outcome was assured either by God or by the ease at which this land could be taken. Thus, I think this was a ploy to get the soldier's competitive juices flowing or to encourage feelings of solidarity, (in the war between Western powers and Russia now taking place in the Ukraine, men who destroy tanks are given a substantial financial reward.) Caleb could have given these men a raise, put on their shoulders a star or two (made them generals) or given them land. Instead, he chose to hand over his daughter to the man who could plot, scheme and genocide better than the rest. This is neither preparation for being a good husband nor preparation for being a good judge. Furthermore, winning on the battlefield is not necessarily connected to strong faith for "successful" war-leaders have been both thugs as well as godly men. This contest only proves physical strength and a willingness to be brutal on the battlefield; it suggests Othniel was a competitive man. My hunch is that this was arranged in advance, that Caleb had several nephews who were in on what was about to happen. He wanted to keep power in the family, to assure the continuance of his bloodline. The contest may have been a sham which functioned to juice the competitive spirit of the men who fought under his nephews. The girl was probably very young and quite familiar with the brutality of her society, one that used children and woman as rewards for successful fighting. I pray she was a willing bartering chip, or at least one who didn't know better. The most poignant victims in this story are the people of that area who were slaughtered. Their fate isn't even mentioned: they're not even a footnote in this historical narrative. Think of the generations of people who had lived on that land, tilled it, tamed it, planted it and raised their families on it. We must not forget them.

Caleb was making a case to get the land he wanted. He invoked God’s name as a surety for his claim to the land. Since he had been sent with Joshua by Moses and had disagreed with the negative, timid and faithless report of the ten spies, he alone merited the privilege (with Joshua) of making the first claim to land. Caleb also said that the Lord had promised him this specific land: “Give me the land that the Lord promised me that day.” Thus, Caleb had heard from God Himself that a particular area would be his. Perhaps I’m alone in this, but I have great compassion and pity for the victims of this land grab – the families who had lived on this land, cultivated it, built generational houses and considered it home … only to be murdered or driven out by land-hungry Israelites. In the sixth commandment, God had ordered Israel not to murder. The murders of the people on this land were not accidental killings. This was genocide. Perhaps this commandment only covers Israelites? This must be. After all, Caleb “followed the Lord wholeheartedly,” even going so far as to build an altar to celebrate the murder of the people who once lived on that land. And God honored this. “The Lord is with us.” This isn’t just about “bald ambition.” Caleb’s audacious claim creates the possibility of genocide as God’s will. -- “Lord, I am revolted and horrified. You are a God of love ... right? Help me understand.”

We can follow the Lord wholeheartedly only after we have heard His command clearly and believe He has given us a promise. Only then can we follow. This seems to be the most difficult step, that is, hearing His command/promise and being certain it is of Him and not the whispers of our own minds or extraneous pressures. When we have the confidence that the Lord’s will is “X”, the decision to do/say/be "X" becomes clear – we decide to obey or disobey. Often, however, we doubt the command itself which makes obedience to that command much more difficult. Following the Lord wholeheartedly, assuming we have heard His command and have zero doubt in its provenance, is done incrementally. We're told to step toward the fulfillment of the promise, to take small steps in a particular direction, usually without knowing where the next step will be. We know the promise (which is just a goal) but not how to get there. This is revealed slowly, step by step. These steps are acts of faith. So, following the Lord wholeheartedly has two components – knowing His direction or goal (the promise) and willingly “stepping out in faith” toward that promise. Joshua, Caleb and the ten knew the promise. In their minds, it was clear what God wanted to do. Their reconnaissance into Canaan was merely strategic, not intended to confirm the promise. I find it interesting that God left to them the strategy of conquering, rather than guiding them slowly into the land. God tested them with strategic ignorance. Had God not tested them with the spectre of giants, the inner faith-weakness of the ten would not have been revealed. No one would have known that the ten initially doubted the promise. Joshua and Caleb differed from the ten because they were certain that God had given them a promise. They were certain in His character, that that promise would be fulfilled if they obeyed. I see the problem of the ten a bit differently than does Pastor Ralph for it seems one less of fear than doubt. The ten didn’t really believe the promise. They went into Canaan on spiritual fumes … on memories of old promises that had been fulfilled. They were not deeply convinced that God had spoken again, in their time. They didn’t completely believe God's promise. Faithlessness angers God. He had given them a gift and had told them to “go get it,” but when they went to retrieve the gift that had already been promised to them, their faith-resolve went limp. In my wee experience, every promise is met with resistance. God promises something and then makes us crawl over glass to retrieve His promise. There’s always that sort of testing. The challenge He puts before us has to be overcome. And during this overcoming stage which is, in reality, the seizing of the promise, He goes silent and pulls away. He lets us toughen in our faith as we walk blindly and in solitude toward the next step, praying and hoping that our steps are directed by Him and are not of our own volition.

All the links are broken, but I remember Munger who died at the beginning of this millennium, I believe, and vaguely remember his allegory of cleaning each room of our spiritual house. The point was that our entire "self" has to be sanctified, even "closets" and hidden places. As each place is cleansed, we move onto the next. Unfortunately, sanctification isn't like calling Merry Maids -- the house never becomes completely spotless. I clean and clean ... But, it does get a bit cleaner. And as rooms are put into order, our ways of thinking clarify, particularly our thoughts about God. I care deeply about the process of sanctification. I want my house -- my "inner man" -- to be as clean as possible: this is as clean as I permit the Holy Spirit to make it. It does seem to be the case, however, that rooms I thought were well cleaned, when I walk through them later, reveal places that still need to be scrubbed. Thus, sanctification is a never-ending, somewhat frustrating process -- the deeper I scrub, the more tenacious dirt I find.

The passages in Joshua mirror the progression in a growing/maturing Christian life. The external manifestation of persistent sins can often be dealt with, but underlying attitudes or needs that created that sin are much more difficult to excise. I think that's what is meant, here, by compromise. This is a life-long battle. Again, we are able to control the sins themselves with effort and prayer. Usually this means NOT doing something we're already doing, or tempted to do. It's a negative prohibition, as are many of the Commandments. In my experience, it's easier to stop doing/thinkng something evil than to start doing something godly ... though I'm not sure why. Those hidden, well-buried propensities no one sees are the compromising sins that must be dealt with. As Pastor Ralph suggested, when those deeper sins or sinful tendencies are not uprooted, their roots tend to grow deeper. The sin becomes firmly planted in the soul. Thus, we need to deal with these sorts of sins. Some of those sins disappear as God changes the heart in ways imperceptible to us -- others have to be constantly monitored and prayed over. Ultimately, The Holy Spirit is responsible for the transformation of our "inner man." This is not something we can do. We can ask for help and set the stage, but in the end, we are not on that stage -- He is.

It's unfortunate that this was written in 2016 and not today -- 2025 -- because these same scriptural commands have been quoted by contemporarily Israelis as justification for slaughtering Palestinians who admittedly acted badly (slaughter/hostages) but, frankly, their slaughter was not as "complete" as that of the Israelis. Is it correct to take passages from Joshua and apply them to the war taking place today, which the Israeli leadership is doing?? Are they prescriptive or descriptive? Or, do we study this book as history, as what God once did ... and don't assume that this is what God wants us to do today?

The Israelites did all they could humanly do, it seems. They trudged up and down mountain ranges, probably without food or water. And, most importantly, they plunged into battle. God made it easier for them, or even possible for them, to prevail. Panic … hailstones … surprise attack timing … and, the clincher which was that the sun didn’t set which enabled them to finish the battle. Joshua knew he was going to prevail because he was certain that God had given Him a promise that no man will be able to stand up against him during his lifetime. That’s quite a promise. It’s an assurance of success in every endeavor. Compare this to the obedient apostles in the New Testament who followed God closely yet were martyred. God let men prevail over them in this life. (Why, Lord?) The question of our role and God’s role is fascinating. The bible has two scenarios (and a fuzzy grey area in-between): first, God performs a miracle that does not involve our participation or assent; second, God expects us to do all we can do to bring the “miracle” to fruition. The Joshua story fits in the second scenario. Here, the army was expected to expend all its energy toward accomplishing God’s will. For example, to climb and descend a twenty-one mile path through mountains required a healthy, in-shape military force. They had to have been ready for this sort of exertion. Prepared, that is. So, how am I to be prepared for my battles? This is where knowing the will of God comes into play. God has not assured me of anything specific as He did with Joshua. Furthermore, since I don't know where God is leading me, I’m unsure how to prepare for whatever is upcoming; I cannot prepare SPECIFICALLY. I can prepare in general ways – I can prepare spiritually, that is. I can pray. I can intensify my study and worship of Him. I can give more … talk more … write more, of/to Him. I feel as if I’m doing this, but know I can always do more. There is a point, though, as with Job, where I come before Him and tell Him I can’t do any better on my own accord, and if He wants more, He’ll have to enable me to do more. -- I pray to know His specific will in these circumstances so I can best prepare for what may be coming. I pray, too, that someday I will hear His voice clearly state that “no one will be able to stand up” against me until I die.

Good morning! Joshua, amazingly, forgot to consult God before several important decisions or events. After all he'd experienced and learnt, he neglected to do something he knew he had to do -- he knew success was contingent on being in the stream of God's will. This is an admonition -- we, too, can neglect the lessons we thought we had learned well, those lessons that had been drilled into our brains by God Himself, the lessons hard learned by suffering and failure. Thus, we have to be vigilant, to fight complacency and the tendency to assume we know what God is doing. We don't know how Jesus prayed when He was alone before the first blush of morning light. I assume he was talking to God as if God were there, enjoying the banter and being totally in synch with what God was saying and doing. I doubt Jesus struggled to hear His voice. But ... maybe I'm wrong. Jesus knows what it is to be a human. He suffered our lives and weaknesses. So maybe He was pleading with God to answer His prayers as well as struggling to hear His voice clearly? I've noticed in my not-very-successful Christian life that at the times I most need to hear from Him, to have guidance or feel His comfort, God pulls away. It's not a question of NOT spending enough time with God in prayer but rather, perhaps, a problem with knowing how to reach Him when I'm desperate. Only in retrospect can I see He was there. Perhaps He pulls back because He wants me to "press in," to struggle even harder to earn a glimpse of His presence? What happens is this: because I'm not completely certain of His will, and because time is crowding my need to make a decision, I look to see what doors are open, and tentatively walk through one of them. Right now, no doors are open, or no doors that I want to go through. I have pleaded with Him to open a "better" closed door, the door I want, the door of escape/happiness/peace, but that door has remained slammed shut. In this way, circumstances are coercing me into doing that what I do not want to do even though I want to be obedient. I want to follow His will. I really do. Yet ... yet ... so many visions and dreams are unfilled. I feel I'm wasting my life. (I'm sorry, but this is what I really think.) I keep waiting for the joy, peace and sense of purpose that God promises ... and waiting ... and waiting. I simply cannot believe that the life I'm living, the one I'm forced to live out of obedience, is His perfect will. I hope this time is preparation for another assignment and not the end of the road with Him.

Many years ago, I was told that taking the Lord’s name in vain meant uttering an expletive that included His name. So many people curse habitually using God’s various names that the meaning of the curse has been lost. It’s become common speech. This seems to be part of the meaning of taking the Lord’s name in vain, but not all of it. A flippant mention of His name demotes His holiness publicly. We're to extol God, not mock His name. We’re to take God seriously. Using His name as a way of proving our sincerity or seriousness also takes it in vain. We cannot conjure up God to validate our promises, that we really really intend to keep our words, no fingers crossed. If we didn't take God's name in vain, our word, alone, would be enough. Promises are taken lightly because language itself has become a tool to confuse, propagandize and censor. When people don’t use words to convey a message, but instead use words to manipulate or obscure the truth, words themselves lose meaning. Shady promises do this, too. When a country signs a treaty, for example, it should expect to abide by the terms of the treaty. But Western diplomats, in particular, increasingly jettison their loyalty to past words and treaties – Minsk 2 comes to mind – which makes all words meaningless. In response, a foreign minister of a country with whom we had signed treaties described Westerners as “not agreement capable.” This mean our words or promises are not reliable. In other words, we’re liars. It's particularly egregious when Western politicians put their hand on the bible to promise to serve the country when in their minds they aim to harm us. That's a promise using God's name behind it through the medium of His word. I] I travel often, or used to. I've notice that to the the non-Western world, the West represents Christianity (even though our leaders worship a secular non-God) just as India represents Hinduism, Italy Roman Catholicism, and Iran Shia Islam. When others see us lie without concern about what we’re doing, it becomes a slur on our faith, not just on our country or us as individuals. Our faith condones lying, in their eyes. This makes mission work more difficult. When we carry the baggage of dishonest business practices, treaty-breaking diplomacy and constant lying/propaganda we're telling those in non-Christian lands that our faith and our God are corrupt.

Greed is an attitude. It's not a mere desire for more, more and more. Anyone can have that attitude. When poor people cling to the little they have, they’re not trusting God to resupply their need – they’re greedy out of need. When wealthier people stuff their investment accounts, garages and vacation homes, they too are not trusting God to return to them what they’ve given away The principle (as I poorly understand it) is to empty our vessels quickly so God will refill them, thus ensuring a divine supply. The more we retain, the less we are trusting Him to care for us in the future. I must confess that I’ve emptied my vessel of most everything and am still waiting for God to refill it, as promised. At times, I fearfully doubt in His willingness to notice my need and fulfill His side of the promise All people are captives of greed to some degree or another. This has nothing to do with being from one or another country. All income groups, too, can be captive to greed. My solution to greed, coveting and fear/lack of trust -- which as I mentioned hasn’t “worked” yet -- is this: Just give it away. Empty your vessel. Let God refill it. This is the principle of Divine Supply – the more you keep, the less you’ll get from God; the more you give, the more opportunity God has to supply your need.

The downstream effect of a person’s is rarely isolated to just that person –cascading, unintended effects impact those around him like gradually expanding circles around a pebble thrown into a still lake – so it makes sense that a family, set of friends and, in rare cases, a nation, would be impacted. Sin doesn’t “stay put.” But it’s a far stretch to claim others are responsible for the sin of a particular person and therefore should be punished as if they themselves had committed the sin – “community guilt.” God is surely able to figure out who sinned and who did not sin. He does not hold innocent people responsible who had nothing to do with the original sin. Again, I’m not questioning if sin has secondary effects in a community but only stating that the community should NOT be held responsible for the sins of individual members. Thirty-six Israelites were murdered/died because of one man’s greed in the Joshua/Achan story. How can this be just? If they all were complicit in his crime, then, yes, they should be similarly punished, but the text doesn’t mention this. As an aside, I am the only Christian in my extended family and do not feel responsible for the sins of my sons … father, etc. I have never felt responsible for their behavior even though it has impacted me greatly. I think the NT is simply different than the OT in this regard, perhaps reflecting the Greek mindset for which it was written, even though it includes examples of so-called “household salvation”. Household salvation is the opposite of “community guilt”. When a household is saved, the ripple effects are positive – the entire household comes to faith because of one member. But, admittedly, this is very, very rare. Almost all people Jesus and the disciples witnessed to were saved as individuals who were quite capable of making personal commitments to Him. Individuals should take sin seriously. This does not create a legalistic atmosphere. The only legalism possible is in a community-guilt scenario. When sin is individualized, the judgement is made against oneself, not others. If we concentrated on our own damaged characters, we’d not be so eager to convict others. Individualism actually corrects the undergirding of a legalistic spirit. Frankly, I think the “I’m sorry for the sins of my ancestors …” (who owned slaves or were rapacious capitalists or whatever) is just a ridiculous show-boating, attention-getting technique. Its public nature belies its manipulative core. Corrupt politicians are often the first ones to publicly – always publicly – confess sins their ancestors may have committed. The bottom line is that no one can confess sins on behalf of another. This is a foundational concept in Christian thought. We must stick to our own sins which are surely greater than we admit and let God sort through the sins of others.