How well do you stand up under tough, aggressive questioning? If somebody gets in your face and will not let you go until they get the answers they want, how do you feel? What do you do?
I can tell you what I do. I look for the back door. I look for a way out. I want to avoid the questions. I don’t like it when somebody keeps on pushing and pushing their questions, trying to break me down. That gets too close to me.
I remember, back in seminary days, that I decided to drop a course. There were really two reasons to drop the course: first, I had taken on too many semester hours, trying to keep a part-time job going, and struggling to understand this thing called marriage. I felt I had taken on too much, and decided to drop a course. But the second reason: why this particular course and not some other? Well, frankly, after about two weeks of it, I knew I did not like this professor. This guy was rough, he was caustic, he was a smart-alec; he thought nothing of embarrassing students in the class. I did not like him. I dropped his course because I was not going to sit there and take that stuff any more. But, of course, to drop a course a student had to get the signature of the professor teaching it. In to his office I went, hoping he would just scribble his name and let me go, no questions asked. It was not to be. "Why are you dropping my course?" I went through the routine about too many hours, part-time job, new marriage, and so on. But was he satisfied with that? Did he let me off the hook? Not on your life! With those beady, penetrating eyes; with that air of a prosecuting attorney, he began to push. "Is there any other reason?" "Are you not comfortable in my class?" "Is there something about my teaching?"
Deacons, do you think a seminary student can be forgiven for lying to a professor? I just mumbled incoherent responses to all of his questions until I finally got that coveted signature and flew out of there. I don’t like to be pushed with questions! I don’t stand up well under tough, aggressive questioning. Do you?
But did you know that most of us are under intense scrutiny all the time? Did you know that somebody out there is watching us, testing us, every day? Oh, they may not be asking the high pressure questions, in your face, but they are watching us to see how we live; they are probing us to find out what we really believe; and they are tempting us to see if we are really any better than the next fellow who doesn’t even pretend to be a Christian. You and I are, every day, subject to the probes of a prosecuting public. How do we stand up to that aggressive questioning? How do we stand up to the probing testing of who we are?
Here is what I believe the Scripture will teach us this morning: that once we -- we, for ourselves -- decide who we are and where our loyalty is, we will have a testimony the prosecutor cannot shake. Once we, for ourselves, on our own, make a decision as to who we are, and whose we are, we will find an unshakable certainty, we will have a confidence that no assault can destroy.
What each of us needs, to get to that point, is a defining moment. Do you know that phrase, a defining moment? Each of us needs a crisis point, a moment in which we confront ourselves and find out we must make a choice. James Russell Lowell said it, "Once to every man and nation comes the moment to decide, in the strife of truth with falsehood, for the good or evil side." A defining moment, when we decide who we are, whose we are, and gain a testimony the prosecutors of this world cannot shake.
In the passage of Scripture I read, did you notice that Joshua sounds like a prosecuting attorney? He pushes the people of Israel pretty hard. For one thing, he insists that they make a critical choice: either they will serve the gods of their ancestors or they will serve the God of Israel. You have to make a choice. And then, even when Joshua gets the answer he wants; even when the people tell him that they will serve the Lord, Joshua keeps on pushing. "You cannot serve the Lord; the Lord is a jealous God, the Lord will turn and do you harm if you forsake Him." Push, push, push, like a prosecuting attorney.
But there is a reason for all of this. There is method in his madness. For, again, you see, we need defining moments, we need crisis moments, to make us decide who we are and whose we are. And it’s only when we, for ourselves, very clearly, make a decision, that we will get a certainty, a testimony that the prosecutor cannot shake.
I
First of all, Joshua has understood that you and I have to make our own choices. It’s not good enough to depend on choices that were made for us, way back when. Joshua has understood that you and I may bring to our defining moment a whole lot of baggage from the past. And that may be either good baggage or bad baggage; but it’s still baggage, it’s still stuff that others packed into us. And it’s not our choice until we clearly make it our choice.
"Joshua said to all the people, ’Thus says the Lord, the God of Israel: "Long ago your ancestors ... lived beyond the Euphrates and served other gods. Then I took your father Abraham from beyond the River and led him through all the land of Canaan and made his offspring many ... Now therefore revere the Lord, and serve him in sincerity and in faithfulness; put away the gods that your ancestors served beyond the River and in Egypt, and serve the Lord."’"
Your ancestors served other gods. We have baggage in our past. We got our values from other people. And they may be the good values, or not so good. But whether they are good, bad, or indifferent, it’s time for us to grow up. It’s time for us to decide who we are going to be. It’s time to unpack the baggage of the past and decide what we will keep and what we will not keep. Who are we going to be? Not just somebody else’s child, but ourselves.
Many of you know that my wife is the daughter of a very fine theologian. Eric Rust was one of the greatest minds that Baptists have had. He knew much about many things, he wrote and spoke forcefully, he was enormously persuasive. Now what is it like to be the daughter of somebody like that? Margaret says that, on the one hand, it was a great privilege. If she had a spiritual question, she could go to her father, and he would talk non-stop for the next hour, giving her more information than any ten people could handle! But, on the other hand, it was also a burden, because she came to wonder whether she believed this Christian thing because Dad had imposed it on her; or did she truly believe it for herself? And, in fact, she had to turn to other people and other groups just to get some clarity about her own faith.
There are some things you we have to do for ourselves. And deciding who our god is is one of them. There are some things we just have to do for ourselves, and nobody else can do them for us. We have to swallow our own food; we have to scratch our own itches; and we have to decide who our god is. You can’t say, "My daddy was a preacher or a deacon, so I’ve got religion." Hey, just because your cat was born out in the garage, that doesn’t mean it’s a Cadillac. You can’t say, "They always made me go to church, so here I am, a Christian born and bred." Hey, standing out in the showers doesn’t make you into a sunflower! No, there must be a defining moment, when you discover, you choose, for yourself, what god you will serve. There must be a moment when you "work out your own salvation with fear and trembling."
Joshua was right to act like a prosecuting attorney. He was right to push the crisis. "Put away the gods that your ancestors served beyond the River, and serve the Lord." Until it’s our own faith, and we’ve struggled with it a while, it’s not ours, it’s not worth much, and it won’t be a testimony the prosecutor cannot shake.
II
Let’s think a little more about what Joshua was doing, acting like a prosecutor. I suggest we would be very fortunate if we had somebody who would care for us the way Joshua did. Why?
Joshua knew that when life is going well, we will sit around and sit around and sit around. We will avoid making any real decisions. What we need, when life is going OK, is a spiritual friend, a Joshua, who will stand up and shake a bony finger in our faces and act like a prosecutor and push us until we make a decision. That’s a real friend.
I’ve said that we won’t make a committed decision when life is going well; listen to what Joshua tells Israel. He reminds them that God "gave [them] a land on which [they] had not labored, and towns that [they] had not built, and [that they] eat the fruit of vineyards ... that [they] did not plant." Pretty good deal! And then Joshua says, "Now ... choose this day whom you will serve." Choose. This day, now.
These folks are living off the achievements of others, and so they think they can afford just to sit on the fence. What’s the rush to make a commitment? Now some of us, if we are in trouble, we make a decision for the Lord, real fast; we know we need help. But once we get past the rough patch, once we get ourselves together, then we forget about the Lord. We forget who got us over. We live in towns we didn’t build and eat from vineyards we didn’t plant, we have a good deal, and we avoid the decision, because we’re doing just fine, thank you. Right here in this church we’ve had folks come running down this aisle, in trouble, asking for the Lord’s help; and then when things are on even keel again, they disappear. When life is going well, and we think we have ourselves together, that’s when we need a spiritual friend. That’s when we need a prosecutor like Joshua, who will tell us the truth, and push us to make a real commitment for the Lord.
Several years ago one of your former pastors came back to preach. Bill Scurlock told us about those days back in the early 60’s, when social change made him and this church look at the issue of race. He told us about how this all-white congregation began to receive African-American visitors, some tentatively, then some regularly. And one of them in particular just kept on coming, kept on attending everything the church had to offer. It wouldn’t surprise anybody here to know that as that happened, everyone in the church came to know, love, and appreciate that persistent visitor, named Robert Faulkner. But still, Pastor Scurlock says, the church didn’t do anything nor did he. He didn’t invite Mr. Faulkner to join the church. He just kept on doing what he had always done -- until, one morning, Pastor Scurlock told us, two women blocked the door to his office and would not let him out! They said, "Pastor, get off the dime. Invite this man to join the church or invite him to leave. Do one thing or the other, but do something." And Bill Scurlock says that was one of the best things that ever happened to him. He had two Joshuas at his door!
We need Joshuas, spiritual friends, who will confront us, challenge us. If there is somebody in your life who is nagging you to do the right thing, praise God for that! If there is somebody who upsets you and confronts you about a change you need to make, well, sing Hallelujah for that! Most of us, unless someone pushes us, are not going to get off of our blessed assurances and choose. But if someone is bugging you about where you stand with the Lord, be glad. Be glad somebody cares about you that much.
This week one of you was that kind of spiritual friend for me. One of you told me that it felt as though I responded better to men than to women, and that maybe I was a bit sexist. You were kind enough not to use that provocative word, but that’s what the idea was. At first that jolted me, and I wanted to say, "Oh, no, not me. Couldn’t be me. I am politically correct!" But I soon realized that, whether the suggestion was true or not true, I could be grateful that somebody cared enough to push my button and challenge me and make me choose! I had a Joshua on the other end of my telephone! Thank you!
Praise God for spiritual friends who sound like prosecuting attorneys, tell us the truth about ourselves, won’t give up on us, and make’ us choose. "Choose this day whom you will serve."
III
Friends, I’m here today to tell you that when the choice is finally made, the decision is actually real, that there is nothing like that feeling of certainty. When you get there, it will be like the people of Israel, who, along with Joshua, set up a stone of witness. A stone of witness. A monument to commitment. Solid, concrete, and definite.
Joshua had one more strategy in his bag, one more device to use like a prosecutor. He tested them, questioned them; he asked them if they were rock-hard sure they really wanted to follow the Lord. "If you [make this choice and then] forsake the Lord and serve foreign gods, then he will turn and do you harm ... " Is this what you want? Are you ready? Are you ready?
And they said, "We are witnesses. We are witnesses that [we] have chosen the Lord, to serve Him." And so Joshua set up a large stone, and he said to the people, "See, this stone shall be a witness against you." It is a stone of witness. Rock solid. Certain and sure.
When you finally make the decision, if it’s your decision, not just some baggage you brought with you; when you finally make a commitment, and it’s been tested by friends who push you and question you ... when you have that kind of decision, it’s going to be a certain answer. It’s going to stand like a monument. It’s going to stay with you.
I was twenty years old, studying engineering. I studied engineering just to have something to study, to tell the truth. I knew I didn’t like it. It wasn’t satisfying at all. I sat down one night and listened to some voices -- voices in my own soul and voices from trustworthy, mature Christian friends. Those voices all said, "God is calling you for special service." I got up from my few moments of reflection, I made an appointment to tell my pastor, I went forward the next Sunday when an invitation was given, and I have never, never looked back. It’s rock solid. I have, in my soul, a stone of witness.
Have I made mistakes and failed at doing ministry? Of course I have. Have I had disappointments and frustrations? Of course I have. Ten years at Takoma? One or two frustrations, maybe! But I have not for one moment doubted the Lord’s love for me, the Lord’s calling me, the Lord’s presence in my life. Not for one moment. Because it was my decision, made with the help of some Joshuas in my life. Rock solid.
I want that for you too. I want certainty, clarity, and purpose for you. I’d like to be somebody’s Joshua today. I’d like to push you out of that comfortable place. I’d like to pursue the issue of whether you have decided for Christ. Are you just here because it’s the thing you do? Are you just here because somebody more or less wants you to be here? Then I want to be prosecutor Joshua, aggressively urging you, "choose this day whom you will serve. As for me and my household, we will serve the Lord." But I cannot make your decision; that’s for you to make.
I can say that I want to help set up a stone of witness for you. I want to help you achieve that rock-hard certainty, personal security. I can say that that rock is Jesus, yes, He’s the one. That rock is Jesus, the only one. Be very sure, are you very sure, your anchor holds and grips the solid rock?
I can point you to the cross, on which the most persistent, challenging personality in all of history died. I can point you to the cross and to that stone of witness, the stone of certainty. For on the third day, they rolled away from his tomb a stone. It is a witness: He is alive. He is certain. He is solid. He is a rock. He is Lord. Choose Him. Choose today.
All I can do is to tell you that as for me and my household, "beneath the cross of Jesus I fain would take my stand, the shadow of a mighty rock within a weary land; a home within the wilderness, a rest upon the way" That is testimony the prosecutor cannot shake.
