I got in my car and set out into the dark night. I made my way to Lowes a few miles away to return something, but really I just wanted to drive around the backroads. When I was young and my dad was struggling with the weight of family and job and mind, he would leave the house and just walk. Maybe it is something men need (or have the luxury of doing).
Tonight as I drove, feeling the weight of my failures and sin now halfway through the season of Lent with little to show for it, I thought about a passage from the Book of Judges I had read not too long ago.
The Israelites were at war with the Midianites, who at the time numbered in excess of 120,000 men. Gideon, one of the Judges of Israel, had with him 32,000 men camped just south of the Midianite camp in the valley. Though outnumbered four to one, the Lord nevertheless instructed Gideon to send home 22,000 of the most timid (Judges 7:3) and left him with 10,000. Of those 10,000 remaining, the Lord instructed Gideon to take them to the water to drink, for "there are still too many men...I will sift them for you there" (v 4).
The men drank--some of them "lapped the water with their tongues like dogs" and the rest drank on their knees. The Lord again instructed Gideon to send home those 9,700 who drank on their knees. Leaving the army of Israel numbered at 300 men who lapped the water like dogs. Against an army of 120,000. And He promised he would deliver the enemy into their hands (v. 9). The Israelites did indeed rout the Midianites, despite being outnumbered 400 to 1. With such impossible odds, there was no doubt that it was only God's Hand at work "so that Israel may not boast against me that her own strength has saved her" (v. 2).
Now, I don't know what the proper interpretation of the men who "drank like dogs" might be, or what God was getting at with choosing these kind of men to overthrow a formidable army. But having a dog, from what I can observe, I don't think it's a real compliment. Dogs follow their impulses...at least our dog does. She gets up on the table and snatches food off of plates and out of our hands; she just can't help herself if something she wants is in front of her. She has no sense of obeying our commands, no remorse, and no loyalty; she simply goes to whoever will give her what she wants. If we don't let her out in time, she messes the floor, soiling everything. She rummages through the trash, strewing it everywhere. And yes, she laps her water, drinking even from dirty puddles if she is thirsty enough. As a domesticated animal, she would simply die if put out in the wild to fend for herself.
Am I much different? Like in Pavlov's experiment, a bell rings and my base impulses take over. It is acutely felt during the dog-days of Lent, when we are called to persist in subduing our passions, not indulging them. To fight temptation, not succumb to it. To be strong in the fight. And yet...
And yet the confounding paradox emerges. When we fall in sin, we betray our true nature. We know this. And yet we being unspiritual, sold as a slave to sin, "do that which we do not really want to do," for as Paul says:
"I find this law at work: when I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God's law; but I see another law at work in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within my members." (Romans 7:21-23)
And so in the dark car, in the dark night, in what I might regard as a few moments of freedom, I am still nothing more than a slave on a joyride. For no matter where I drive, no matter where I go, my sin follows me like a hunger. "Oh wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?" We fast and pray, give alms and train. It's not about small victories, or even big ones. When we forget our yoke, think we are doing well, God makes it known how heavy it really is.
Pulling into the driveway, convicted of the acuteness of my sinful nature, another passage comes to mind, this time in Paul's address to the Corinthians:
"To keep me from becoming conceited because of these surpassingly great revelations, there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me,
"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."
Were the Israelites to defeat the Midianites 4:1 rather than 400:1;
Were Paul to overcome pluck out his thorn of his own accord;
Were I to get out from under my weight and compulsions through self-improvement and discipline...
God's redemption would be a merely human feat, and pride cast us into Hell to the fate we deserve and drive headlong in the night towards. But thanks be to God, through Jesus Christ our Lord, his power is made perfect in weakness!
Therefore, I say with Paul, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.
For when I am weak, then I am strong."
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