I’ve always had kind of a subversive streak, which is why sometimes things crack me up in the Bible that aren’t meant to be funny.
Take Joshua 24:15—an iconic verse, stitched onto framed doilies and Instagrammed with hashtags across America: “But if serving the Lord seems undesirable to you, then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your ancestors served beyond the Euphrates, or the gods of the Amorites….But as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord” (NIV).
That first clause always struck me as hilariously passive-aggressive. Joshua has just recited a litany of the ways God had won battles for Israel, noting in verse 13 that they were enjoying a sweet life they hadn’t earned. He implores them to reject the false gods and serve the Lord. But if this sweet life isn’t good enough for you, he seems to say, then survey your worthless gods and see if they’ll treat you better. But as for me and mine, we will serve the Lord.
In contemporary dramatic terms, this scene would end with Joshua dropping the mic and walking offstage.
BOOM. #thatjusthappened
But as I ponder some of the ministry-related turmoil swirling around these days, it’s dawning on me that perhaps Joshua wasn’t just being sarcastic. After all, none of his words in the preceding passages were light or whimsical. Rather, they displayed the urgency of a man whose time on earth was almost up. Leading the Israelites, he’d seen plenty of people who, at one time or another, acted like serving the Lord was…well, undesirable.
Which, let’s be honest, is totally understandable, especially if you’ve done paid ministry work for more than a few years. Even church jobs are still jobs. Sometimes the pay sucks, sometimes people are mean, sometimes management is incompetent.
I think Joshua knew that anyone serving Yahweh because of his miraculous victories would eventually be distracted by the next shiny idol to come along. He understood how the allure of the Next Big Thing can wreak havoc on our commitment. He recognized that perpetually keeping one’s options open and refusing to choose is, itself, a choice.
I resonate with this lesson. Don’t just serve the Lord because you were inspired by a conference or a TED talk. Count the cost, do your homework, and then serve him with eyes wide open. Serve God, knowing that much of the duration will be neither easy nor profitable. Serve God because you love and trust him with your life.
For those who tend to exist at the bottom of the organizational chart, this is an important lesson. But it’s also important for more prominent leaders. See, Joshua correctly understood that Israel’s real enemies weren’t foreign kings or nations—they were complacency and idolatry. He understood that the vision of those who call the shots can sometimes be distorted by power.
As leaders, we have to decide which principles are most important to us. Is it minimizing our debts and maximizing our assets? Or is it being generous with what we have and trusting God to meet our needs? Is it maintaining a united front, impervious to controversy? Or is it honestly grappling with dissenting perspectives in our midst? Is it taking a stand because we know God is on our side? Or is it, as Abraham Lincoln famously said, hoping that we are on God’s?
God has been faithful to us, a Covenant people. In our faithfulness, let us remember the altars of the past without being beholden to the status quo. Let us not fail to engage the hard work of evaluation and dialogue just because it’s easier to stay busy with More Important Work. Refusing to intentionally choose that work is itself a choice. And according to Joshua, it’s a bad one.
Commentary
In the Mix: The Refusal to Choose Is Itself a Choice
I’ve always had kind of a subversive streak, which is why sometimes things crack me up in the Bible that aren’t meant to be funny.
That first clause always struck me as hilariously passive-aggressive. Joshua has just recited a litany of the ways God had won battles for Israel, noting in verse 13 that they were enjoying a sweet life they hadn’t earned. He implores them to reject the false gods and serve the Lord. But if this sweet life isn’t good enough for you, he seems to say, then survey your worthless gods and see if they’ll treat you better. But as for me and mine, we will serve the Lord.
In contemporary dramatic terms, this scene would end with Joshua dropping the mic and walking offstage.
BOOM. #thatjusthappened
But as I ponder some of the ministry-related turmoil swirling around these days, it’s dawning on me that perhaps Joshua wasn’t just being sarcastic. After all, none of his words in the preceding passages were light or whimsical. Rather, they displayed the urgency of a man whose time on earth was almost up. Leading the Israelites, he’d seen plenty of people who, at one time or another, acted like serving the Lord was…well, undesirable.
Which, let’s be honest, is totally understandable, especially if you’ve done paid ministry work for more than a few years. Even church jobs are still jobs. Sometimes the pay sucks, sometimes people are mean, sometimes management is incompetent.
I think Joshua knew that anyone serving Yahweh because of his miraculous victories would eventually be distracted by the next shiny idol to come along. He understood how the allure of the Next Big Thing can wreak havoc on our commitment. He recognized that perpetually keeping one’s options open and refusing to choose is, itself, a choice.
I resonate with this lesson. Don’t just serve the Lord because you were inspired by a conference or a TED talk. Count the cost, do your homework, and then serve him with eyes wide open. Serve God, knowing that much of the duration will be neither easy nor profitable. Serve God because you love and trust him with your life.
For those who tend to exist at the bottom of the organizational chart, this is an important lesson. But it’s also important for more prominent leaders. See, Joshua correctly understood that Israel’s real enemies weren’t foreign kings or nations—they were complacency and idolatry. He understood that the vision of those who call the shots can sometimes be distorted by power.
As leaders, we have to decide which principles are most important to us. Is it minimizing our debts and maximizing our assets? Or is it being generous with what we have and trusting God to meet our needs? Is it maintaining a united front, impervious to controversy? Or is it honestly grappling with dissenting perspectives in our midst? Is it taking a stand because we know God is on our side? Or is it, as Abraham Lincoln famously said, hoping that we are on God’s?
God has been faithful to us, a Covenant people. In our faithfulness, let us remember the altars of the past without being beholden to the status quo. Let us not fail to engage the hard work of evaluation and dialogue just because it’s easier to stay busy with More Important Work. Refusing to intentionally choose that work is itself a choice. And according to Joshua, it’s a bad one.
Dana Bowman
CONTINUE READING
Explore More Stories & News
The Church Is Open
With no children and no volunteers left after the pandemic, a North Minneapolis church restarted Vacation Bible School anyway, praying for twenty kids to show up.
Wrestling with Hard Stories
Why is Ananias and Sapphira’s punishment so harsh? An honest reckoning with difficult passages.
Facets of Glory: How Culture Helps Us See God
A worship leader is told to put her shoes back on before the service because “that’s just how we do things around here.” Celeste Cecchi on what we can learn about culture and the church.
Honoring Our Past While Naming Our Wounds
The immigrant church was home. That’s what makes questioning it feel like betrayal.
Faithfulness Over Influence
A spy series about performing for unseen watchers got Jelani Greenidge thinking about how we perform our faith.
The Life of a PastorGirl
A pastor who was warned that ministry would “eat her up and spit her out” writes, twenty-five years later, about the God who was faithful throughout her journey.