But if you refuse to serve the Lord, then choose today whom you will serve. Would you prefer the gods your ancestors served beyond the Euphrates? Or will it be the gods of the Amorites in whose land you now live? But as for me and my family, we will serve the Lord. [Joshua 24:15 (NLT)]
Last year, our family rented a lake home in Idaho. Although we never saw our next-door neighbors, we saw their landscaper nearly every day. A robotic lawnmower, it was meticulous about not missing even a small patch of grass on their expansive lawn. About twice the size of our robotic vacuum, this mower puts our little vac to shame. Rather than going in seemingly random circles, it efficiently cut in back-and-forth straight lines. The gizmo never strayed onto the beach, got lost in the shrubbery, banged into lawn furniture, or wandered into our yard! From lakeside to house, it went up and down the slope without slowing down and returned to its charging station when its power ran low. An obedient and hard-working servant, it was on call 24/7 and would have mowed all night if so directed. The mower’s schedule, boundaries, and grass height requirement were controlled by its master’s smartphone! Because that technology came with a hefty price tag, it also came with a built-in-alarm system, GPS theft-tracking, and a pin code.
Like that robotic lawn mower, we are servants, but our unseen master is God. Unlike the mower, however, rather than serving our master 24/7, we can choose to obey only when it’s convenient or self-serving. Like the mower, we were purchased for a steep price—not with VISA, but with the blood of Jesus! Like the mower’s owner, God doesn’t want any of his servants lost or stolen. He always knows exactly where we are, what we’re doing, and even what we’re thinking, but He does it without benefit of an app, GPS, pin code, alarm, smartphone, or Alexa.
Mass produced in a factory, the mower isn’t unique, doesn’t resemble its maker, and, with a microchip instead of a brain, has no will of its own. On the other hand, we are one-of-a-kind and created by the hand of God in His image. Rather than a computer chip, we have a brain and a will that allows us to make choices within our human limitations. Like that mower, however, we have invisible (but knowable) boundaries set by our master determining where we should or shouldn’t go. But, unlike the mower, we can breach those boundaries at will (and often do). When that happens, God lets us suffer the consequences. The prodigal son went hungry, the Israelites spent extra decades in the wilderness, Judah was exiled to Babylon, and Nebuchadnezzar lost his mind. In His mercy, however, God allows us to repent and come back to Him. The father welcomed his son home, Israel finally entered Canaan, Judah returned from exile, and the king regained his sanity.
As a machine without a will of its own, the mower has no relationship with its master. It’s just a possession and, while the owner liked the robot enough to spend over $1000 on it, he doesn’t love it. If it breaks, wears out, or turns rogue on him (as robots do in the movies), he probably will scrap it and get a newer model. On the other hand, we have a relationship with our master. Regardless of how we feel about God, He loved us enough to sacrifice His only Son for us! He’ll love us even when we’re incredibly unlovable, damaged, broken, worn out, and even if we go rogue on Him! He’ll never sell us on eBay, toss us in the dumpster, replace us with a more efficient model, or stop loving us.
Without a will, the mower can’t choose its master—it serves whoever has its app and knows its pin. Unlike it, we’re human beings with a will, but that doesn’t mean we don’t serve a master. One way or another, we will end up serving something or someone. Having a will simply means that we can choose the master we’ll serve—sin or the Lord. Let us remember, we can serve only one master; the choice is ours!
Free will I have often heard of, but I have never seen it. I have met with will, and plenty of it, but it has either been led captive by sin or held in blessed bonds of grace. [Charles Spurgeon]