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.
Yosemite Sam, the cartoon arch enemy of Bugs Bunny, used to exclaim “Jumpin’ Jehosophat!” I was an adult before learning that Jehosophat was the fourth king of the southern kingdom of Judah. It’s ironic that the king said to be jumping in Sam’s pseudo-swear is best known for standing still in 2 Chronicles!
Last week, when writing how Jephthah’s reckless vow caused his daughter’s death, I remembered how Saul’s equally foolish vow nearly cost his son’s life. While Israel was at war with the Philistines, Saul and his 600 men were camped near Gibeah. Israel was seriously out-numbered by the better-armed Philistines and, because their enemy controlled the pass at Micmash, Saul’s troops could proceed no further. Although the rest of Saul’s men were afraid, Jonathan and his armor bearer were confident that the Lord was with them. Tired of the hopeless standoff with their enemies, the two snuck out of camp and headed toward the Philistine garrison. After passing through two treacherous cliffs and scaling a steep slope, they entered the enemy outpost and, outnumbered ten to one, killed them all.
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.”
When writing about Nehemiah recently, I thought about waiting. From the time he learned of Jerusalem’s broken-down walls until he spoke to the king, three months passed. Day in and day out, Nehemiah was at the king’s side but remained silent about his concern. Trusting that God would provide the opportune time, Nehemiah patiently waited at the king’s side until God provided the perfect moment when the king inquired about his cupbearer’s sadness. Had I been Nehemiah, would I have trusted God’s timing and kept silent for ninety days? What about you?
Devotions of the Heart 