Summary: Chase the Lion is a 3 part series from Mark Batterson, pastor at National Community Church in Washington, D.C. The sermon is based off of the book, Chase the Lion. You can download a sermon kit at ChaseTheLion.com/churches

On September 11, 2001, four airplanes were hijacked by terrorists bent on evil. Two of the planes crashed into the Twin Towers in New York City. One of them crashed in a field in Stonycreek Township, Pennsylvania. And one plane crashed into the west side of the Pentagon, not far from where my church meets. The natural instinct for those inside those buildings was to get out, but on that day there were heroes who didn’t run out. They ran into those burning buildings to help those in need.

One of them was Lt. Col. Ted Anderson, who attends services at our Capitol Hill campus. One account captures his story this way: “Anderson acted like a man possessed.” It said, “As others ran for their lives, he sprinted from his office toward the point of impact. Spreading his jacket over shards of glass on a windowsill, Anderson had a noncommissioned officer named Chris Braman boost him into the collapsing building. Together, they carried out two women, one of them unconscious and the other badly burned.”

Over the next hour, as the rest of world looked on in shock and horror, Ted Anderson returned to the blaze over and over again. At one point, he and Braman were low-crawling through the inferno, screaming to be heard above the roar. Arlington County firefighters finally restrained Lt. Col. Anderson, not allowing him to reenter the Pentagon. They probably saved his life, because it collapsed a few minutes later.

Ted Anderson stayed there all day, in part because his keys were still on his desk inside the Pentagon. That night, the building superintendent let him go in and get his keys. He drove home, listened to 52 messages on his answering machine, took a shower, cried for 30 minutes, and tried to get some sleep.

His phone rang at one a.m. It was his boss, who said, “I can’t sleep. Let’s go to work. Put your battle uniform on.” So in the middle of the night, they were headed back to the Pentagon—because they knew we were at war!

That’s what soldiers do. That’s who soldiers are.

If you want to understand David’s mighty men in 2 Samuel 23, you need to understand what drives a man like Lt. Col. Ted Anderson to run back into the Pentagon, to run toward danger, to run to the roar. In Ted’s words, “We had people inside, and it’s the nature of a military guy that we never leave anyone behind.”

Lion Chaser

David’s mighty men weren’t the kind of men who would run away from what they were afraid of. These were boot-camp-trained, battled-tested bravehearts. And their stories are some of the most epic, most heroic stories in the entire Bible. Josheb faced 800-to-1 odds, but he stood his ground. Eleazar fought until his hand froze to his sword. And when the rest of the army retreated, Shammah took his stand in a field of lentils.

And then there was Benaiah. That’s where we pick up the story.

There was also Benaiah son of Jehoiada, a valiant warrior from Kabzeel. He did many heroic deeds, which included killing two champions of Moab. Another time, on a snowy day, he chased a lion down into a pit and killed it. Once, armed only with a club, he killed a great Egyptian warrior who was armed with a spear. Benaiah wrenched the spear from the Egyptian’s hand and killed him with it. Deeds like these made Benaiah as famous as the Three mightiest warriors. He was more honored than the other members of the Thirty, though he was not one of the Three. And David made him captain of his bodyguard. (2 Samuel 23:20-23, NLT)

One of the great challenges we face in reading a story like this is that we know how it ends. And because we know the ending, we assume it was inevitable. Psychologists call this hindsight bias. And it’s one of the greatest challenges we face in reading Scripture. We’re Monday morning quarterbacks. We know how every story ends. For example, before we read about the crucifixion, we know about the resurrection.

Because we’re reading these stories thousands of years after the fact, and because we know how every story ends, we lose the element of surprise, the element of danger, the element of risk. That’s how it is with this story in 2 Samuel 23:20. We know that Benaiah is the one who walks out of the pit. And if we aren’t careful, we assume it had to have been like that. But this has to rank as one of the craziest acts of courage in all of Scripture!

Here’s what I know for sure. When the image of a man-eating beast travels through the optic nerve and into the visual cortex, the brain sends one message to the body: run! But lion chasers aren’t wired that way. They don’t run away from what they’re afraid of. They run to the roar.

Let me zoom out and look at this from a wide-angle lens.

We don’t know where Benaiah was going or what Benaiah was doing when he crossed paths with this lion. All we know is his gut reaction, and it was gutsy. Listen, lions weigh 500 pounds and run 35 mph. Plus, they have these things called claws!

It goes without saying, if you find yourself in a pit with a lion on a snowy day, you’ve got a problem—probably the last problem you will ever have. This is how it’s going to end for you. But you’ve got to admit, it looks awfully good on your résumé if you’re applying for a bodyguard position with the king of Israel.

Benaiah landed a job as King David’s bodyguard. And he eventually became commander-in-chief of Israel’s army under King Solomon. So he was the second most powerful person in the entire kingdom of Israel. But it all traced back to this fight-or-flight moment.

Are you going to run away from what you’re afraid of? Or are you going to run to the roar?

Are you going to let fear dictate your decisions? Or are you going to live by faith and chase the lion?

Not much has changed in 3,000 years. When we lack the guts to go after God-ordained, God-sized dreams, we rob God of the glory He deserves.

You can do nothing wrong and still do nothing right. In God’s kingdom, breaking even is breaking bad. Just ask the servant who buried his talent in the ground.

Come on, let’s go big or go home! Let’s quit living as if the purpose of life is to arrive safely at death. Let’s go after a dream that is destined to fail without divine intervention.

Crazy Dreams

As we begin this series, let me ask some questions:

• What’s the scariest dream you could go after?

• What’s the craziest dream you could go after?

• What’s the riskiest dream you could go after?

• What’s the biggest dream you could go after?

I’ve had asthma my entire life. I’ve prayed hundreds of times for God to remove it. But I decided to pray that prayer one more time—and God answered. I’m 70 days inhaler free!

By the way, two weeks ago I dreamt that I had an asthma attack. So I still have this subconscious fear. But I’m not running away from it anymore. And I can’t wait to take my next pulmonary function test.

So again, let me ask the question at the outset of this series: what’s the craziest dream you could go after?

Now, I want to be very careful right here. When I wrote In a Pit with a Lion on a Snowy Day a decade ago, I made a scary discovery: people actually believe what you say! I started getting emails from all kinds of people chasing all kinds of lions. And so I started putting a disclaimer at the beginning of my books: “You might want to pray about it.” Listen, I hope we don’t have hundreds of people handing in their resignation tomorrow. If you’ve got a drastic decision like that in mind, you might want to think about it, talk about it, and pray about it before acting.

You remember the story about Peter walking on water. If you’re going to get out of the boat in the middle of the Sea of Galilee, you’d better make sure Jesus said, “Come.” And if Jesus says, “Come,” you’d better not stay in the boat.

So let me put my craziest dream out there. This one doesn’t even make sense, but I believe it’s something God has put in my heart. So here goes. One of my life goals—life goal number 39—is to make a movie. Honestly, it feels a little foolish even verbalizing it. But let me give you a definition of faith. And if you’re taking notes, you can jot it down: Faith is the willingness to look foolish.

I’ll double back to that in a minute, but here’s the deal. When I was five years old, my parents took me to see a movie called The Hiding Place. It was a Billy Graham film that profiled Corrie ten Boom and the way she survived the Nazi concentration camps. After the movie, I asked my mom if I could ask Jesus into my heart. That movie changed the trajectory of my life. God used the medium of a movie to impact my life. And I guess I’d like to do the same thing for someone else.

So somehow, someway, someday, I’ll make a movie. I don’t think I’ll act in it. I don’t think I’ll direct it. Not sure I have the skill set for either of those things. But I’d like to help write it or produce it.

Here’s the thing: I have no idea how. I don’t even see a path forward. But I didn’t see a publishing path 10 years ago. I didn’t see a pastoring path 20 years ago.

Let me tell you something I’ve learned about 500-pound lions. By definition, a God-sized dream will always be beyond your ability, beyond your logic, and beyond your resources. If God doesn’t do it, it can’t be done. But that’s how God gets the glory. He does things we can’t take credit for. And that’s what I want to challenge you to go after in this series.

What’s the craziest dream you could go after?

I have to warn you. It’s going to take longer than you think. It’s going to be harder than you want. But if your dream doesn’t scare you, it’s too small. If you’re big enough for your dream, your dream isn’t big enough for God.

Two Ways to Get Started on Your Dream

I know that not everybody thinks of himself or herself as a dreamer, but I think you are. I think you have dreams, even though you may not know they’re dreams. For example, if you’re a parent, you have a dream. You gave that dream a name when he or she was born. You’re a dreamer!

Let me share two of the best ways to discover your dream.

First, inventory your history. Your destiny is buried somewhere in your history.

A few years ago, I spent a couple days with a life coach, and most of what we did was not plan out the rest of my life. Most of what we did was inventory my history. We simply identified defining moments—he called them “life gates.” We came up with 39 of them. And it’s amazing how much of my passion, how much of my vision was buried in those 39 defining moments.

Lt. Col. Ted Anderson—whose story I told in the opening—is a great example of destiny being buried in history. When he was 13 years old, he visited D.C. for the first time. His dad was graduating from the FBI Academy in Quantico, Virginia. They visited the Tomb of the Unknowns at Arlington National Cemetery. Ted said, “That’s when I knew that I wanted to be a soldier.” Ted would go on to serve as a paratrooper for two decades, but that seed was planted when he was teenager.

You don’t need a life coach or any special help to inventory your history. You can do it yourself. As you read Chase the Lion, take notes. Self-scout.

Second, one of the best ways to discover your dream is to get around a dreamer.

Dreams are contagious. There are seasons when God wants us to focus on the dream He’s given us, but there are also seasons when we’ve got to focus on serving someone else’s dream. And that’s how our dreams will become reality. That’s what the 37 mighty men did.

Benaiah was serving David’s dream. In fact, as his bodyguard, he was willing to trade his life for David’s life. But it was David’s dream becoming reality that led to Benaiah’s dream job. He got a key position in the administration. Then he worked his way all the way up the chain of command to become King Solomon’s commander-in-chief. His dream became reality, but it started with Benaiah serving David’s dream.

What Is Faith?

Let me give you two definitions of faith.

First of all, faith is the willingness to look foolish.

I can’t imagine anything more foolish than chasing a lion. Right? But that’s faith.

I felt foolish giving up a full-ride scholarship at the University of Chicago and transferring to Central Bible College. I felt foolish moving to D.C. with no place to live and no guaranteed salary. I felt foolish when our church opened a coffeehouse—we had no business going into the coffeehouse business. But faith is the willingness to look foolish.

Noah looked foolish building an ark.

Sarah looked foolish buying maternity clothes.

David looked foolish going into battle with a slingshot.

Benaiah looked foolish chasing a lion.

The Wise Men looked foolish following a star.

Peter looked foolish getting out of the boat.

And Jesus looked foolish hanging half naked on a cross.

But again, faith is the willingness to look foolish. And the results speak for themselves.

Noah was saved from the flood.

Sarah gave birth to Isaac.

David defeated Goliath.

Benaiah killed a lion in a pit on a snowy day.

The Wise Men found the Messiah.

Peter walked on water.

And Jesus was raised from the dead.

If you aren’t willing to look foolish, you are foolish! Because it’s the fear of foolishness that stands between us and our dream.

“I can’t change majors—I might look foolish.”

“I can’t quit my job—I might look foolish.”

“I can’t seek out counseling—I might look foolish.”

“I can’t ask her out—I might look foolish.”

“I can’t share my faith—I might look foolish.”

“I can’t pray for a miracle—I might look foolish.”

“I can’t fill out the application—I might look foolish.”

“I can’t make the move—I might look foolish.”

“I can’t make the call—I might look foolish.”

Go ahead. Look foolish!

Now, here’s the second definition. Faith is unlearning our fears.

You can run away from what you’re afraid of, but you’ll be running away the rest of your life. Don’t let fear dictate your decisions!

There are thousands of fears and phobias catalogued in the DSM-5, but we are only born with two fears—the fear of falling and the fear of loud noises. That means that the rest of those fears are learned, which means they can be unlearned.

First John 4:18 says, “Perfect love expels all fear.” Love is fearless!

I’ve always wrestled with the fear of failure, but I learned a valuable lesson when I was 22. The cure for the fear of failure isn’t success; it’s failure in small enough doses that you build up an immunity to it. Our first attempt at church planting failed. And yes, it was embarrassing. But it set me free from the fear of failure, because I discovered that God was right there to pick me back up, dust me off, and give me a second chance.

I know some people ask the question “If you knew you couldn’t fail, what dream would you go after?” I think that’s a good question, but here’s a better question: If you knew you would fail, what dream would you still go after because you couldn’t live with yourself without going after it?

It’s not about winning or losing. It’s not about success or failure. It’s about obedience.

Live to Tell the Story

More than a decade ago, a mission team from National Community Church went to Ethiopia. Right before the trip, one person on the team—Sarah—was ready to bail for a number of reasons. First of all, there was some political unrest, which made all of us nervous. But Sarah had never been out of the country, so it was acute fear for her. Second, we decided to end the trip in the outback, and she had never been camping before. When we told her we would have armed guards, that didn’t eliminate her fears; it exacerbated them. Plus, we had to get extra inoculations.

Long story short, Sarah was scared for good reasons. I still remember that meeting—it turned into a prayer meeting. We prayed her through her fear!

So we went on the trip, Sarah included. The whole thing was amazing, but let me tell you about one of the most memorable days of my life. We got held up at gunpoint by armed shepherds carrying AK-47s. It was terrifying when it happened … but it was awesome afterward! We went swimming in a natural spring heated by a volcano. We did a game drive on Land Rovers. That night we sang worship choruses around a fire when we heard a lion roaring—we hoped in the distance. I had a revelation that night that changed my life: Don’t accumulate possessions; accumulate experiences. And I’ve tried to live my life that way ever since.

But let me go back to Sarah.

What if Sarah had run away from what she was afraid of? She would have forfeited all of those stories, all of those memories!

The funniest moment on the entire trip was setting up camp with about 80 baboons. They were in the trees and running around. (Don’t tell me God doesn’t have a sense of humor. Baboon butts are hilarious! It’s like they lost a bet or something.) So we were setting up camp, and out of the corner of my eye I saw one of those baboons drop a bomb, and it landed right on Sarah—of all people. She has forgiven me for laughing out loud. Listen, that’s pretty nasty. But that’s pretty awesome too! If she’s ever doing an icebreaker game where she’s supposed to tell the group something none of the rest would know about her, she can say, “I was once pooped on by a baboon.” That’s living life to the fullest.

Let me ask you a question: Are you living your life in a way that is worth telling stories about?

When you write two books on one chapter in the Bible, your imagination gets a little carried away. So let me read between the lines. When Solomon was a young boy, David would tell him bedtime stories. I’m guessing that many of those bedtime stories were about his mighty men and their epic exploits. And I bet Solomon asked for the chase-the-lion story more than once.

Forty years later, Solomon becomes king of Israel. And who does he choose to be his commander-in-chief? His father’s bodyguard, a man named Benaiah. Why does he choose Benaiah? I think he chose Benaiah because of the bedtime stories he had heard as a child. He chose Benaiah because Benaiah lived his life in a way that was worth telling stories about.

God wants to write His-story through your life. You are a subplot the epic story of redemption. But the turning point of that story is when you have the courage to chase your lion the way Benaiah did his.

When we lack the guts to go after the 500-pound lions in our life, we rob God of the glory He deserves. Falling short of His glory isn’t just sin. It’s small dreams!

Avoiding Inaction Regrets

Two decades ago, social psychologists Tom Gilovich and Victoria Medvec carried out a study making a distinction between two kinds of regret. First, there are action regrets—things you’ve done that you wish you hadn’t. And then there are inaction regrets—things you didn’t do but wish you had. What they discovered is fascinating. In the short term, we regret actions over inactions 53% to 47%. So it’s a toss-up. But over the long term, when we look back over our lives, we tend to regret inactions over actions 84% to 16%. That’s huge! In other words, 84% of our regrets are going to be the lions we didn’t chase.

Neal Roese describes it this way: “When we look back at our lives as a whole, we are most haunted by things left undone—romantic opportunities untried, career changes unexplored, friendships left untended.”

Don’t let fear dictate your decisions. Run to the roar!

One of my prized possessions is a lion spike. A lion spike is made of cow bone that has been sharpened on both ends and has a hand hole in the middle. It’s the weapon of choice for warriors in the Maasai tribe when charging a lion. When the lion roars, the warrior thrusts the spike into its mouth. When the lion closes its jaws, the spike punctures the upper and lower jaws, making it impossible for the lion to bite down.

I don’t know what dream you’re chasing or what fear you’re facing, but there is always a moment of truth when you have to dare to thrust the spike in the lion’s mouth.

Don’t run away from what you’re afraid of.

Don’t let fear dictate your decisions.

Fight for the 500-pound dream God has put in your heart.

The Lion Chaser’s Manifesto

Quit living as if the purpose of life is to arrive safely at death.

Run to the roar.

Set God-sized goals. Pursue God-given passions.

Go after a dream that is destined to fail without divine intervention.

Stop pointing out problems. Become part of the solution.

Stop repeating the past. Start creating the future.

Face your fears. Fight for your dreams.

Grab opportunity by the mane and don’t let go!

Live like today is the first day and last day of your life.

Burn sinful bridges. Blaze new trails.

Live for the applause of nail-scarred hands.

Don’t let what’s wrong with you keep you from worshiping what’s right with God.

Dare to fail. Dare to be different.

Quit holding out. Quit holding back. Quit running away.

Chase the lion.