I don’t love money—but I do love stuff!

So commented my friend when we sat with a group and discussed these challenging words of Jesus:

No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.

I don’t love money in and of itself, like Scrooge McDuck literally swimming in his wealth, but I do keep warm places in my heart. Like my friend, I love stuff, and money buys stuff. I enjoy experiences, and money allows for more of those and further afield.

I fancy the security money brings, even as I tell myself that only the Lord ultimately brings security. I watch money purchase pleasures and houses and even friends for a time. For sure I need to buy stuff only money can buy, and so I need to use money, just not enter into a loving relationship with what’s in my wallet.

Insightful into this conversation is the response of the Pharisees to Jesus. The Pharisees, who loved money, heard all this and were sneering at Jesus.

With hearts fully given over to the pursuit, the accumulation, and the trappings of wealth, the Pharisees rejected any idea of divided loyalties. These men remained blind to their treatment of others as they increased revenue for themselves.

A good check on my heart involves my response to these words of Jesus. When I see them do I pause and wonder, how am I doing with my affections toward money? Or do I skip past? If I ignore Jesus, or pass over without a hitch in my spirit, then I have a problem. Perhaps I’m choosing the wrong master.

And that choice fails as a long-term investment strategy.

Luke 16 in reading the Bible cover to cover in 2022

Thousands of years ago, on the first of April,* a weary band arrived in the camp of the Israelites after what appeared a long and arduous journey. They asked for peace terms, and since they obviously lived so far away, Joshua granted them.

Turns out, these men represented the people of Gibeon, who lived in the direct path of the invasion of the land. The ruse—and Joshua’s failure to consult the Lord—saved all their lives.

After discovering their deception a few days later, Joshua summoned the leaders and asked, Why did you deceive us? Seems like the answer was pretty obvious, but Joshua asked anyway, and I’m glad he did. The answer uncovered their thoughts.

Your servants were clearly told how the Lord your God had commanded his servant Moses to give you the whole land and to wipe out all its inhabitants…so we feared for our lives…we are now in your hands. Do to us whatever seems good and right to you.

The Gibeonites heard of the Lord and his promise to Moses. They didn’t fully understand, but they knew they stood in the way. Humbling themselves, they put on old clothes, grabbed some moldy cheese and hoped for the best.

Fear led to their salvation. Like Rahab in Jericho, they sought deliverance and the Lord granted it. In light of this, it’s surprising to see all the nations surrounding them resist the Lord so violently.

There’s no record of the Gibeonites ever causing Israel to stumble, or living in any other way than as peaceful servants. Eventually they seemed to have been fully assimilated. The Lord worked a great deal of good through a clever trick and a foolish mistake.

It’s nice to know He does the same for us.

Joshua 9 in reading the Bible cover to cover in 2022

Photo by Gio Mikava

*I have no idea if this meeting occurred on April 1. I’m totally pulling the date out of thin air—April Fools!

I lost my wallet recently. I searched the car, walked every room of the house, thought back through my day, puzzled over its placement. Frustrated and out of ideas, I finally remembered the inner pocket of a jacket I wear only occasionally. There rested my wallet, safe and sound.

Jesus told stories of lost and found, a lost sheep and a lost coin and a lost son. Jesus told of the joy of the shepherd who searched and finally found his lost lamb. He told of a woman scouring her house, desperate for that coin, and her joy upon discovering it.

Then Jesus told of a father, waiting and watching for his boy. While he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.

Each of these stories describe the rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents.

I sometimes think of the Lord as a prison warden, waiting to punish an escapee. He still has time to serve and crimes to account for before anyone rejoices over him. Where did I get such an idea?

Not from Jesus.

Jesus literally lives for the return of the lost.

He is the shepherd searching the hills, he is the woman sweeping the house, he is the father on the porch scanning for his lost son.

Jesus leads the celebrations over the lost sinner who repents. Heaven erupts like March Madness when underdogs win. Best of all, it doesn’t happen only in March—heaven is a constant party zone. Here exists joy unmatched.

This better, more accurate realization of the joyful heart of Jesus helps me encourage others toward him. Why the sheep wandered off in the first place fades when the shepherd finds the sheep. The father on the porch (not the warden in the prison) best describes the Lord’s heart for you and me and those we bump into today.

Luke 15 in reading the Bible cover to cover in 2022

Photo by Ray Hennessy

Before entering the promised land, the Lord told Joshua to reinstitute a sign of covenant put in place years before with Abraham (Genesis 17:7-14). What was the sign? Circumcision of all adult males.

When the kings of the pagan nations heard about the miracle at the Jordan their hearts melted with fear and they no longer had the courage to face the Israelites. How do you think they reacted to the news of this mass act of cutting and discarding body parts? Who were these people coming at them?

No dissent is recorded. 40 years of watching fathers and uncles die for refusing to obey the Lord strengthened resolve. These wilderness-hardened men followed through as the Lord required, not phased by a few days of discomfort.

The ultimate prize lay before them—a land flowing with milk and honey.

Sometimes the Lord places distasteful choices before you and me. Nothing requiring the severing of a body part, but choices that require severing none the less. Where do I spend my time and what do I allow in my mind? Media choices swim before me. Is that show, as popular as it may be, really leading me toward the land of milk and honey? Perhaps it needs cut out and discarded.

The place where Joshua performed these procedures landed a gruesome name, Gibeath Haaraloth—hill of foreskins. As bad as that sounded, the name reminded the nation of their covenant with the Lord, and the value found following Him in holiness.

I think that as you and I also follow the Lord for years and years, we’ll look back upon our own hill of discarded things, items that once dragged us down and held us back from places of milk and honey. It helps to remember that with each cut, each act of leaving behind, comes a promise of something much, much better.

Joshua 5 in reading the Bible cover to cover in 2022

Photo by Matt Artz