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]
The closest thing we have to a pet is one of those robot vacuums. Nearly as entertaining as a puppy, it needs far less care. As I watch it zip around the house, its movements appear to be entirely random. Sometimes, it starts by spiraling outward in a circle and, other times, it heads directly for the perimeter of the room. When it hits an obstacle, it seems to bounce off in another direction. Nevertheless, my robotic janitor usually knows enough to stop and beep for rescue when it gets into a jam. Unlike it, when I get into predicaments, I usually try to get out of them on my own. Life would be easier if I called on the Lord as readily as that gizmo beeps for me.
When the woman joined our group at the table in the school gym, she said, “I got a late start so I was speeding to get here. If a cop stopped me, I was going to tell him I was doing the Lord’s work and, since God will forgive me, he should too.” She insisted that speeding for a godly purpose was a justifiable offense and, since God offers forgiveness, so should the police. Granted, we were doing God’s work by packing meals for the needy but, as the Blues brothers learned when they saved the orphanage, a mission from God is not a “Get Out of Jail Free” card.
Saul, a man willing to kill his son rather than concede his error in making a foolish vow, wasn’t quite as eager to fulfill other vows he made. Later, he promised his daughter (along with exemption from taxes and military service) to the man who killed Goliath. While the vow prohibiting his men from eating came from his desire for revenge, this one may have come from fear. It was the king’s job to lead his men into battle and Saul, as the tallest man and the only one with bronze armor like Goliath’s, was the obvious choice to take on the Philistine. Perhaps Saul hoped the promise of wealth, honor, and a place at the king’s table would be incentive enough for someone else to volunteer to face the Philistine. For 40 days Goliath had taunted Israel but there were no takers until David.
One of the most disturbing stories in the Bible is found in Judges 11. Before leading the army into battle with the Ammonites, Jephthah made a rash vow to the Lord—if given victory, he’d make a burnt sacrifice of the first thing to come out of his house to meet him upon his return. God granted Israel victory but, when Jephthah returned home, it was his daughter who came out to greet him. When the anguished Jephthah told her of his vow, the girl willingly accepted her fate. She only asked for one thing—to go into the hills with her friends to mourn that she’d never marry or know the joy of motherhood. When she returned, “her father kept the vow he had made and she died a virgin.”
Like Christians, Hindus believe that, when the body dies, the soul does not. Unlike Christians, however, Hindus believe that, after death, the soul lives on in an astral body until it is reborn in another physical body. This cycle is continually repeated until the soul reaches a certain state of perfection (moksha) and is released from the bondage of birth and death. At that time, like a drop of water that eventually merges into the ocean, the soul will finally merge into God and become one with its creator. Of course, once absorbed by the sea, the drop would cease to exist.
Devotions of the Heart 