Saturday, July 23, 2016

Israel Trip - Day 9 (The Morning)

The Jordan River.

No other geographic feature is mentioned more frequently in the Bible than the Jordan, and it's where we began our hiking on the morning of Day 9.

There are no records or indications in any of the research on the ancient Near East that people worshipped the river itself. Instead all of the references to it are as a barrier to be crossed. Given that reputation, I expected a wide, deep, daunting river that could sweep us away if we weren't careful with our footing. 

Maybe at certain times of the year, but not today.


Our spot on the Jordan
Instead, we were greeted by a pleasant little stream. From a sheerly practical standpoint, had the Israelites found it difficult to cross the Jordan on their way into the Promised Land, they simply could have waited until the drier season for an easy path. That's certainly the way our Western minds would look at the situation.


But as you can read in Joshua 3, the Jordan was at its flood stage when the Israelites crossed over (And that's no joke. See the video above.), so there must be a reason—a more narrative or symbolic reason—for why they proceeded to this place at this time.

RVL helped trace a recurring narrative for us, one that involves water at key times in the Bible. There's a six-part framework for this narrative that begins and ends with the same element, thus taking things full circle:

  1. It starts with Chaos (represented by untamed water)
  2. God is present 
  3. God speaks
  4. Shalom comes to the Chaos
  5. God's people do something out of step with His command
  6. The situation reverts back to Chaos
In creation, for example, we see this framework playing out when initial Chaos is represented in the formless waters. God's presence hovers over the waters in His Spirit (or Ruach in Hebrew). God speaks the words of creation, "Let there be . . ." and Shalom comes about in the beautiful, amazing world that springs up. The Fall occurs with Adam and Eve's sin, and the world gets thrust back into Chaos. 

That Chaos builds until the Flood, and we see the framework play out again with Noah. The next time this narrative comes out is when the Israelites are standing at the shore of the Red Sea on their flight from Egypt. And about 40 years later we see the same pattern when God's people are standing at the banks of the Jordan.
  1. There's the Chaos that comes with the enemies and uncertainties waiting for them in the Promised Land on the other side of this flooded, rushing river.
  2. God is present in the Ark of the Covenant carried by the Levitical Priests.
  3. God speaks to His people through Joshua (see Joshua 3:9-13), essentially telling them to, "Get in!"
  4. Shalom comes as the raging water is stopped and the Israelites all make it safely through. They set up an Ebenezer to commemorate and share the story with their children and future generations. They are committed to God, and they conquer the city of Jericho by following His commands.
  5. Achen led the Israelites off course by disobeying God's command for dealing with the people they encountered in this new land.
  6. That resulted in defeat and Chaos once again for Israel.
But beyond this narrative framework, what is going on in the story of the crossing of the Jordan? God stopping the waters is not so much about His people getting across. Remember, they could've just waited for the drier season. Instead, it's about Him claiming Lordship over this new, fertile land they are about to experience. The natives of this area worshipped Baal and credited him with the abundance of crops it produced. God wants to make sure that His people know from whence their help comes. 

In His previous water-saving story with Israel at the Red Sea, God parted the waters for them. They needed Him, and He acted as a way to build their faith. But they have now spent 40 years in the wilderness—a land of Chaos, but also the place where God draws His people close to Him. They have taken their marriage vows for the new covenant at Sinai. They have received manna for sustenance and learned what "just enough" means, like the sheep in a shepherd's flock. And now they stand on the banks of the raging Jordan, and God says:

Get in!

As a people who have matured in their faith and their relationship with God, He calls on them to demonstrate that faith by getting their feet wet. I was there for you. Will you now put my name on display for the world? There's a common teaching that emerged in the Rabbinic tradition that says, "God acts when our feet are wet."

God wants to know if the nation of Israel is all in. It's the same thing He wants to know of us today. And we need to recognize that His true might—His true Lordship and power—won't be revealed to the world until we are able to answer a resounding, "Yes!" to His question. Anything less, and He won't act in the same way.

I thought about that for a long time on the banks of the Jordan. Do my actions and attitude really have some say or control over the way and the timing of the coming of the Kingdom of God? And I realized that when I compare my version of the Christian life to that of Christ and His disciples, I'm nowhere near as willing to be uncomfortable or risk as much as they were. How could twelve nobodies from some backwater towns in Israel live lives whose effects are still shaping the world today?

Because they were willing to be a whole lot more all-in than I am.

What would the world today look like if I was truly willing to get uncomfortable in doing my part to bring the Kingdom and put God on display? Am I willing to use my platform as the leader of a school community to this end? Am I willing to risk upsetting people—even people I care about—to bring Shalom? Am I willing to put my own wants and desires second to others'? 

Am I all in?

These were the kinds of questions RVL challenged us with on the banks of the Jordan. Were we willing to take our lives in a different direction, a more dedicated one? If so, we could plunge ourselves into the water, literally getting all in. Not so much a baptism, for our belonging to God's family was not in question, but a mikvah—a commitment of our devotion to a new path.

Doing so was an emotional experience for all of us, and one that bound us tightly together—certainly as Christians, but especially as co-laborers in the work of Christian education at Holland Christian Schools. Sitting there in the waters and listening to the songs of praise that we were lifting up presented a little glimpse of what the Kingdom of God feels like when His people are united by a powerful commitment to a common purpose.

It was a powerful morning to be sure.

No comments:

Post a Comment