In the Old Testament readings in the
lectionary over the last few days, the Ark of the Covenant, God's
throne on earth during the time of the Tabernacle and the Temple, had
been captured by the Philistines. I remember my professor of Old
Testament History, Mr. Batten, in Bible School covering these
chapters of first Samuel. The Israelites were being routed on the
battlefield by the Philistines. The way he put it, their solution was
to “go get the box”, the Ark of the Covenant. They made the
mistake of trusting in “the box” which they could see instead of
the God whose glory dwelt between the gold angels on the lid of the
box. Instead of looking for God whom they couldn't see to save them
from the Philistines, they looked to “the box” which they could
see to save them. As a result, God allowed them to be slaughtered on
the battlefield and “the box” was captured to teach both Israel
and the Philistines a lesson in respect for Him.
Recently, my family and I visited a
children's home in Gallup, New Mexico. As we were talking with some
of the houseparents, we were discussing that we had wanted to start
the home for disabled children which we're now researching by faith,
depending on God for all the resources needed. In the course of the
conversation, one of the houseparents brought up another children's
home that was also supposed to be operating on a “by faith”
basis. Someone had donated upwards of eight million dollars to this
children's home. It came to pass that they were looking to put up a
new building, and rather than pray and seek God's will and provision
for it, because they already had the eight million, they just went
ahead and did it, because they already had the money. Without giving
more specifics, he said that money nearly destroyed that children's
home because the people stopped trusting in God, and started trusting
in their bank account.
When we started the journey which we're
on, we went out with almost no money and only half a tank of gas,
trusting that God would somehow supply our needs, and He did. Then,
someone donated about four hundred dollars for our journey, and we
were able to get gas and stay at an RV park for a few days in
Flagstaff, Arizona. On the way back to the interstate highway, I saw
someone sitting at a street corner with a sign which said,
“traveling, need money.” It pulled at me to give him something
out of what we had, even if it was only five dollars, because we
ourselves had no resources of our own. But I didn't. The fear crept
up that we wouldn't have enough if I did that. And my opportunity to
share what God had given passed in that moment and I immediately knew
I had done something wrong. I had put my trust in the money in my
wallet, rather than the God who had provided it. I then became
worried that somehow this would come back to bite us and I confessed
it to my wife who also had wondered if we shouldn't have given
something to him.
Sure enough, within a couple of days,
our money ran dry and we wound up staying a night in a Walmart
parking lot. We continued to try and visit children's homes, but
those doors closed. After a day, only one opened up for us to do it,
and it was fifty miles from where we were at. We had only a quarter
tank of gas left to get there (at 5mpg, that isn't a lot, trust me).
We made it, but used up most of our remaining gas doing it. We had
just enough money between the five of us (including a ten dollar loan
from my teenage daughter) to get enough gas to make it to a second
Walmart parking lot where we could only stay for one night (the
previous one would have let us stay two). My fears overwhelmed me at
this point as I was only looking at my empty wallet and empty gas
tank. I felt defeated, and I was terrified as all the worst case
scenarios kept flooding into my mind.
The dumb thing about this was that we
weren't much worse off than when we started our journey, and we still
began driving by faith. But the difference, as I see now, was that we
went without anything we could see to begin with. Once we had
resources we could see, my faith crept away from God and towards
those resources.
St. Ignatius of Loyola keeps coming to
my mind, as do the writings of the Desert Fathers, but St. Ignatius
especially. Upon his conversion (for lack of a better word), he gave
up all of his wealth and status and went barefoot, wearing only the
clothes of the poor. He then resolved to make a pilgrimage to
Jerusalem taking nothing with him. When he accepted charity from
others along the way, he only used what he needed for that day, and
then feeling increasingly guilty he immediately gave the rest to the
nearest beggar he could find. He wanted to get rid of the earthly
resources as quickly as he could. To my earthly mind this seemed
incredibly impractical at first. I mean, why not just save what he
was given for when he needed it later? But this isn't the way of
faith, and he, even in those earlier days, knew it. The way of faith,
the path of Jesus Christ, isn't to trust what you have in your hand,
but to trust the God who put it there. Jesus demonstrated this in a
practical way when he sent out the twelve and told them to take
nothing with them but the clothes on their backs.
There is also a lesson in these
chapters of Samuel with regards to the sons of Eli. These “priests”
had absolutely no respect for the meat which was offered to the Lord.
According to the law, the meat which was sacrificed went to feed the
priests, but it still belonged to the Lord. Eli's sons acted as
though it belonged to them. As a result, when they carried “the
box” into battle, they were killed as God had said through Samuel.
I have been impressed time and again on
this journey that the money which is donated to us may be for us to
use, but it belongs to the Lord. People aren't donating to us, but to
Him. When I held on tight to the few dollars I could have given to
the man on the street corner, I was acting no better than Eli's sons,
and over the next few days the Lord let me know it painfully. He did
relent later that night and permit people to donate, and we never
went without what we really needed. He only really permitted the
terror of being without, not the reality, but I heard His message
loud and clear through it.
Today, I looked in my wallet and I
still have more money than I did a few days ago. I looked at my gas
gauge and it still has more gas in it than it did then. But knowing
that I would need far more over the next few days I began to be
afraid again, and the fears started to surface again. Even having
heard and understood the message, my faith still crept over to my
resources rather than the God who supplies them. It's altogether too
easy for it to happen. I'm realizing more and more through these
things that faith thrives easier when it's all that's in your
possession. More than this, and it has to compete with the things you
can see.