Who Wins the Battle?

As far back as history records, there were battles when the weaker force defeated the stronger force.  Why?

On October 10, 732, Abdul Rahman Al Ghafiqi led his Umayyad army of 20,000 troops into battle against Charles Martel, King of the Franks.  Charles brought an army of 15,000 to Tours (in west central France) to stop the Muslim army from further advances into Europe.  The Muslims had already conquered Northern Africa and the Iberian peninsula, which had been Christian strongholds.  Ghafiqi had a seasoned cavalry; Charles had only infantry.  The Umayyad troops had broken through the Frankish lines and tried to kill Charles, but when the Umayyad troops learned that Frank scouts were looting their camp, they broke off from the battle to protect their treasures.  The Umayyad army fled with as much treasure as they could carry, but they left tents and other loot behind.  Most historians agree that Charles’ victory at Tours preserved Europe as a bastion of Christianity.  Why did Charles win the battle?

When the War of Independence began, the cause of the Americans looked hopeless.  They were a loose confederation of colonies taking on the world’s foremost empire.  But strange things happened in that war.  France joined the American cause.  An uprising in India prevented the British from fully engaging in the American conflict.  The war shifted away from a stalemate in the northern colonies to a guerilla, hit and run conflict in the South.  When French and American forces surrounded Cornwallis at Yorktown, instead of attacking, he waited on Clinton (the English general, not the ex-president) to bring re-enforcements from New York. Five days after Cornwallis’ surrender, the British re-enforcements finally arrived.  Imagine an America bound by British customs and thought.  The Anglican church would have remained the established church. There would have been no separation of church and state.  Most likely there would have been no Second or Third Great Awakening, no Azusa Street Revival, no Billy Graham.  Why did the Americans win that war?

From July to October 1940, the German Air Force battled the Royal Air Force over the Island of Britain.  The German goal was to force Britain to a negotiated peace settlement.  The Germans began the battle with 2,550 aircraft; the British, 1,963.  When the battle ended, the Germans had lost 1,977 aircraft, the British, 1,744 – almost all of their planes.  Yet Germany withdrew from the battle field, to focus on the looming attack of Russia, but failing ultimately to force the British to accommodate their war aims.  Had they succeeded, Russia would have been conquered by the Germans.  Millions more would have been killed in Hitler’s genocide plans.  Britain would have become a vassal state of Germany instead of an ally of the United States.  Though Hitler paid lip service to a version of Christianity favoring the Aryan race, he was at heart an atheist.  Imagine a world sixty years later with an atheistic state ruling over all of Europe and Russia.  Why did Britain win the battle?

Could it be that behind these battles and wars, another hand was at work, the hand of God?  Could it be that God caused confusion in an army, poor decisions by a commander, and a failure of focus by a dictator?  Could it be that God intervenes in the affairs of a nation so his will is done?

This is not to suggest that every victorious army was righteous; war seldom has clean cut morality.  We cannot always say, “God is on the side of the victor.”  But neither can we say a nation was “lucky.”  This is why we need to read the prophets.  God worked through pagan kings and kingdoms to bring about his will, even if it meant his own people would lose the war.  God still works through nations, leaders, armies and wars.

Psalm 33:10-11 says, “The Lord foils the plans of the nations; he thwarts the purposes of the peoples. But the plans of the Lord stand firm forever, the purposes of his heart through all generations.”  Whatever plan a nation makes that is not in harmony with the will of God will fail.  God will not just oppose that plan; he will sabotage that plan with all his power and might.  God wants his will done not just in our hearts, but on the world stage.

Which means a wise nation prays, “Father, not our will, but yours be done.”

I wonder how many politicians, campaign contributors, lobbyists, voters, and candidates are praying for God’s will to be done?  Are you?

Is This Any Way to Fight a Battle?

Joshua and God are having a conversation about how to do battle at Jericho.

Joshua: “Here’s how I see it, Lord.  We have two options.  We can lay siege to the city and starve them out.  That will probably take about two years.  Now, given the large number of walled cities in Canaan, it will probably take about two hundred years to complete this campaign.”

God: “That’s too long.  I want to do it faster.”

Joshua: “Then the second option is to do a full-frontal assault.  We storm the walls of the city.  Of course, we’d be under constant fire from the archers and as soon as we put the ladder up on the wall we’ll face the infantry.  It will be hand to hand fighting.  We estimate a casualty rate of fifty percent.”

God: “No, that casualty rate is too high.  We have other battles to fight.”

Joshua: “Well, then Lord, what do you have in mind? I’m fresh out of ideas.”

God: “Here’s the plan: I want you to gather the army and have them march around the city once a day for six days.  Stay beyond archery range.  Just march.  Carry the ark in front of you.  Tell the priests to blow on the ram’s horns.  Then come back to camp.  On the seventh day, I want you to do the same thing.  Have the ark lead out, but this time march around seven times.  The seventh time around, have the priests blow the ram’s horns and have the army give a battle cry.  The wall of the city will fall down.  They will be defenseless.  Then go in and conquer the city.”

Silence.

Joshua: “Beg your pardon, Lord, but I’ve never heard of fighting a battle that way.  You say circle the city once a day for six days, and then on the seventh day, circle it seven times.  The horns blow, we shout, and the walls fall down.  Lord, am I dreaming or am I on drugs or something?”

God: “No. You’re wide awake.  I think my instructions are pretty clear.  What’s the problem?”

Joshua: “Well, Lord, it’s just that’s not the way we fight battles down here on earth.  We work out strategies, make plans, and then go into battle.”

God: “And how well does the plan work once the battle starts?”

Joshua: “Lord, there’s an old saying: ‘No battle plan survives first contact with the enemy.’”

God: “So, Joshua, do you want to follow your plan that you know won’t work once the battle starts, or do you want to follow my plan, since I already know what’s going to happen?”

Joshua: “Good point Lord.  So how do I persuade the army this is a good plan?”

God: “Remind them of all I have done.  Remind them how last week I stopped the Jordan River from flowing and you all crossed on dry ground.  Remind them how I’ve sent manna every morning to feed them all their lives.  Remind them I kept my promises to their parents and led them out of slavery in Egypt.  Remind them you saw with your own eyes how I parted the Red Sea and how you heard my voice on Mt. Sinai.  Joshua, tell them your story.  Help them believe.”

Here’s the rest of the story:  Joshua did what God told him to do.  For six days the army marched.  On the seventh day, they circled the city seven times.  The horns blew; the army shouted.  The wall fell.

It’s the most basic choice of life: Do you want fight battles your way or God’s?

Hint: God has a better success rate than you do.

Socks, as Good as Dead, but Not Quite

We have three dogs.  We acquired Moo when my son Abram went off to grad school.  Sadie was my father-in-law’s dog.  When he passed away, Sadie came to us as part of the estate.  Then there is Socks.

When my oldest daughter turned eight, she wanted a dog.  We bought her a beagle, named Jewel, who wouldn’t stay home.  Jewel had a romantic encounter with a Labrador Retriever, and before we knew it, puppies were on the way.  I put my foot down and said we could not keep any puppies.  My children whined and pleaded.  We negotiated down to keeping one puppy.  Then the puppies were born. 

There were six.  I grew up where dogs were often given the name “Dog.”  The children gave every puppy a first and middle name.  Pleas were entered 10 minutes after the last one was born to keep all the puppies.  Negotiations continued for the next six weeks.  We finally settled on keeping two: Nickel and Socks, the runt of the litter.

Socks and Nickel inherited their mother’s wandering blood.  Socks learned how to climb the chain link fence and then open the gate for her sister.  They would then room the woods, tracking deer, crossing roads.  Because the church was near my house, I would often look out my office window and see my dogs hot on the trail of some critter.  I received about three calls a week: “Do you know your dogs are out preacher?”  “Yep.  They’ll come home when they get hungry.”

Her sister Nickel died about ten years ago and without her running buddy, Socks became a homebody.  She aged gracefully, never demanding attention, but content to sleep, eat, and pass gas.  Sounds like retirement for some folks I know.

About a year ago, when Socks was fifteen, we found her staring blankly at a wall.  We took her to the vet and found out she’d had a stroke.  Her heart was weak, so she was given medicine to strengthen her heart and an anti-depressant to keep her alert (who knew dogs could take anti-depressants?).  She perked up and was doing pretty well for someone 105 in dog years.

Then last week, she crashed.  Socks wouldn’t eat or drink.  She seemed crippled in her back legs.  Off to the vet we went. 

You know you are getting older when the vet turns out to be someone your kids went to high school with.  The vet took some blood samples and did an echo-cardiogram.  She came in to tell me that Sock’s heart was worse and the blood tests showed her kidneys were shutting down.  The outlook wasn’t good.  The vet kindly offered to euthanize Socks, but I wanted the family to have a chance to say good-bye.

I brought her home and we all loved on her, knowing her time was short.  She wasn’t eating or drinking.  For two days, I checked on her every hour to make sure she was still breathing.

Then on the third day, Socks drank a little water.  In the night, she had a horrific bowel movement (I slept through it, so my wife caught the worst of it).  We were sure the third day would be her last. 

I can’t stand to see anyone or anything hungry, a trait I get from my father.  I offered Socks some peanut butter and she nibbled it.  Later, Gina fed her a spoon of canned dog food.  The next day she ate some dry dog food and chicken.  By the fifth day, she cleaned her bowl and looked at me expectantly wanting more.  The other dogs, after avoiding her for days the way well people avoid sick people, began to interact with her.  By the sixth day, it was clear Socks was not going to die, she was going to live.

Twice in the New Testament (Romans 4 and Hebrews 11) Abraham is referred to as a man “as good as dead.”  He was, after all, 100 years old in people years.  But God had other plans.  God enabled him to father a son, Isaac.  A few years later, after his wife Sarah died, he married a younger woman and had whole clan of children.  Apparently, being “as good as dead” is not the same as “dead.”

Before you give up on your life, before you give up on God’s promises, before you give up on your future, before you decide you are “as good as dead,” check with God.  “As good as dead” is not the same as “dead.”  Just because someone else has given up on you, or just because you have given up on yourself, doesn’t mean God is done with you.

I’ve been tempted to go back to the vet.  I don’t really think I need to pay $50 for the vet to tell me, “Well, she’s not dead.”  I can see that for myself. 

Open your eyes.  Open your soul.  See that our good God is not done with you yet.