Lord, help the poor soul who serves as a substitute teacher. When I was a schoolboy and our teacher had to be away, we plotted what we were going to do to that substitute. There was something about the idea that we would have her for only one or two days and would likely never see her again. She didn’t know our names, she didn’t know our parents, and, most of all, she didn’t have access to that thing they were always holding over our heads – our “permanent records”. Have any of you ever actually ever seen your “permanent record”? I have this image of some day going back to the headquarters of the Louisville Public Schools, there to find a musty vault, in which there sits a bearded scribe with a quill pen, still putting finishing touches on the permanent record of the crimes and misdemeanors of third grader Joseph Miles Smith at Longfellow School! But the substitute teacher didn’t have access to our permanent records, and so we felt free to go on a rampage. We talked, we giggled, we threw paper wads, we even committed the most serious crime an elementary student can commit: we chewed gum. And then we stuck it on the bottoms of our desks. General disorder whenever we had a substitute!
But, oh, the next day, when the regular teacher would return! How we changed our tune! How we shaped up, sat up, and straightened up! A real authority was among us. Not a substitute. Not a stand-in. The real deal. It made a huge difference. We needed that structure, we needed authority.
Incidentally, I’m wondering what it was like around here last Sunday, when there was a substitute preacher. Did you misbehave ? Did the ushers let you walk the aisles when prayer is being offered or the Bible is being read? Did you break out from the usual restraints and maybe even shout an “Amen” or two? I certainly don’t think of myself as an authority figure, but maybe you acted out a bit just because you had a substitute. Have I told you about the church where, one day, the pastor was absent, and so the preacher was introduced to one member as the substitute preacher. She said, “Substitute? What does that mean? I don’t understand that word.” So he tried to explain. He said, “Well, a substitute fills in for the real thing.” He pointed to a window pane that had been broken out; someone had put a piece of cardboard in the open spot. He explained, “You see over there, where a pane of glass is missing? That cardboard is a substitute. That’s what I am like today. Just filling in.” Well, after he had preached, that lady came to shake his hand, and gave him – I guess it was a compliment – but it didn’t sound that way. She said, “Oh, preacher, that was a good message. I don’t think you are a substitute. I think you are a real [pain]!”
Ah, but, you see, authority is always a real pain. Discipline is not fun. Making sure that people do what they are supposed to do is always tough. But it is necessary. For authority there is no substitute.
Toward the end of the Book of Judges, there is a strange story, and it is punctuated by something that is said over and over again. Four times in the closing chapters of Judges, the author writes, “There was no king in Israel in those days.” And twice he adds to that piece of history an important observation, “All the people did what was right in their own eyes.” The decline of God’s people came because there was no authority, no guidance, no discipline, so “all the people did what was right in their own eyes.” The result was a society in which might made right, and money mattered more than justice. A way of life in which there was a form of religion, but it had no power. And if you ask what was the cause of all of this, where did such a mess come from, the story I am dealing with today suggests that the whole thing can be traced to the home. It began with parenting. We’re going to learn about a mother whose carelessness in parenting started the whole sordid thing.
Let me today tell you the story backward. I want to start with the end results and work backward so that we can see how the mess began. My theme is clear: there is no substitute. First, there is no substitute for lives committed to justice; next, there is no substitute for authentic obedience to the living God; and finally, there is no substitute for responsible parenting. If there is no authority, all of us will do only what is right in our own eyes. And it will be a tragic mess.
I
The 18th chapter of Judges, which I have not read aloud, records for you one of those sordid incidents in human history, when you just wonder, “What were they thinking?” This chapter reports that one of the tribal groups that made up the nation of Israel decided to invade someone else’s territory. The tribe of Dan, having been pushed out of its own land, moved up to the city of Laish, and seeing that the people there were prosperous, quiet, and peaceful, put Laish to the sword, took whatever they wanted, and then moved right in themselves. A thoroughly selfish act from the tribe of Dan.
The Bible reports this story with shame. The writer of the Book of Judges was ashamed of the behavior of these undisciplined soldiers. He knew that this was not right for Israel. This did not represent Israel’s values, just pushing another people aside and treating them with no respect.
Does this remind you of anything contemporary? Does this suggest what happened in those prisons in Iraq, where American soldiers took leave of their senses and stripped prisoners of their clothing, forced them to simulate sex acts, pulled them around with leashes as if they were dogs, and then took pictures of their own grinning faces? Are you horrified at this? Are you ashamed of our own people? Are you, like our President, quick to say, “That’s not America. That does not represent what we believe in”? Well, then, where did it come from? How can such a thing happen?
It has happened because respect for order is in steep decline. Lawlessness is on every street. In some streets it is the gunning down of an eight-year-old girl. But in other streets it is skimming of corporate profits. Wherever it is, it is lawlessness just the same. So just as in the time of the Judges, the writer could say, “There was no king in Israel, and so all the people did what was right in their own eyes”, so also today let’s recognize that we feel that there are no restraints. The prison-keepers in Iraq believed that no one would stop them from doing unspeakable things. They acted as though their prisoners were not even human and did not deserve respect. Young men and women, brought up in our culture, acted like I did in the third grade, with the substitute teacher, and did whatever they thought they could get away with. They acted like the tribe of Dan did in Israel, with no king, no sense of right and wrong, and did whatever they wanted.
Oh, can we agree this morning that there is no substitute for lives committed to justice? Can we agree that there is no substitute for moral behavior? There is no substitute for respect, no substitute for honor, no substitute for justice. No substitutes will do.
And yet, I pose the question: where did this kind of behavior come from? How did our people get to be like they are? How did the tribe of Dan fall into such a terrifying trap? How do young Americans fall so far?
II
We fall into the trap because we are propped up by irresponsible religion. Irresponsible, materialistic, paid-for religion. The men of the tribe of Dan propped themselves up with a god who made no demands on them, an idol interpreted by a preacher who told them what they wanted to hear. I’ve said there is no substitute for moral behavior; well, moral behavior comes from authentic religious teaching. If there is no substitute for lives committed to justice, then there can also be no substitute for obedience to the living God instead of kowtowing to a phony.
What a tale is told in the Book of Judges! What a telling tale of self-centered disobedience! How did the tribe of Dan come to feel they could just do whatever they wanted to the people of Laish? Why, they had their own little private priest to bless them! The story is frightening. It says, in Judges 18, that they stole their priest from the man Micah; they took him. Except that’s not quite it: read it closely and you find out that he went willingly. The Danites told the priest that he would be paid better if he went with them, and without hesitation, off he went. The Danites thought they could do whatever they wanted to the people of Laish, because they had a priest who was well paid to tell them what they wanted to hear.
But that is no surprise, because back in the 17th chapter of Judges, that same priest, that Levite, had agreed to be the private priest of the man Micah. Micah had said to the Levite, come here and sit down in my home and be my own private chaplain, and I’ll protect you and give you a living. The same thing. So why should Micah be surprised if his private priest runs off with folks who can pay more? And why should any of us be surprised if neither Micah nor the Danites never hear a mumblin’ word that challenges them? If we today are disappointed because our young men and women seem to have no sense of values, no idea of right and wrong, then look no further than to a church that is tied to a materialistic culture. Look no further than to religious leaders who worship at the shrine of mammon and who will not say anything that might offend the tithes-payers in the pews.
Let me today both praise you and warn you. Let me on the one hand praise you, for in twenty years of preaching here, I cannot think of any occasion on which anyone has hinted to me that if I did not preach what he wanted to hear, he would take his money elsewhere. At no time have I felt intimidated about teaching precisely what I believed. I thank you for that. That is a part of the secret of our having worked together for twenty years. The average tenure of a Baptist pastor is less than three years, and every year more than a thousand Baptist pastors are forced out of their pulpits. If you listen to some of their stories, over and over again when a pastor preaches his conscience and his Bible, those who think they can buy and sell preachers get him out of there. One of my own former pastors moved at one point in his career to a prominent church in Alabama, but when he began to preach racial justice, it was not long before they starved him out of that pulpit. We have a long and dismal pattern of believing that he who pays the piper calls the tune. Takoma has not done that, and I thank you for the freedom of this pulpit.
But there is a word of warning as well. And that warning is that idolatry is so subtle we don’t even know we are bowing down to it. Materialism is so powerful that we don’t even realize we are listening to its siren song. I would not be able, in honesty, to say to you that every Sunday I have preached only, “Thus saith the Lord.” I would have to acknowledge that, down deep, I may have felt that I ought to soft-pedal the tough things, that maybe I ought to keep quiet on the controversial things. It’s so subtle it’s hardly even noticed. But if in these two decades there are things I have not dealt with; if in these twenty years there are themes I have avoided, I have failed you because idolatry is a powerful thing. And the call to popularity is strong enough to drown out the voice of God.
The Levite in this story blessed the tribe of Dan, and cared not at all that they were doing an unjust thing. He had his salary and his protection. Earlier than that he had blessed the house of Micah and was chaplain to all that Micah was about. No judgment, no challenges, because, after all, it was comfortable in that little place on the corner. Micah even claimed that the Lord would prosper him because he had his own houseboy. This Levite was accountable only to his keepers, and not to God. “There was no king – no authority – in Israel, and all the people did what was right in their own eyes.” Even, oh my soul, the pastors.
There is no substitute for authentic obedience to the living God. And there is no substitute for a pastor who will teach the truth.
III
But now remember, I’m telling this Bible story backward. I’m going backward to the roots of the issue. I’ve told you that in Judges 18 the tribe of Dan acted rashly and without respect for the dignity of others. I said that there was no substitute for moral behavior, no substitute for a commitment to justice. Then I said that you could trace their immorality to a religion that made no demands and offered no constraints, because it was in their pockets. A preacher who would not preach lest he lose his creature comforts. So then I said there was no substitute for authentic obedience to the living God.
Going backward, that brings us the fundamental question of where does this bogus religion come from? Where did a man like Micah get the idea of hiring his own private priest, so that he would not have to hear anything he didn’t want to hear? Is there something that goes back yet another step?
There is. There is indeed. And it has to do with Micah’s mother. The story I read for you in Judges 17 tells us that something profound happened between Micah and his mother. Micah had stolen eleven hundred pieces of silver from his own mother. Not a good thing. But what happens afterward is even more significant.
When Micah’s mother found out that somebody had stolen her money, she cursed. She stormed and she raged, all of this right in front of Micah. Micah got a message from his mother, didn’t he? Micah got the message that self is of supreme importance. When his mother raged and cursed and screamed, without regard to the tender ears of her young son, Micah got the message that his mother cared about her stuff more than about anything else in the world. I don’t know what other lessons Micah’s mother tried to teach; maybe she sat him down on her knee and said sweet things about being loving and friendly and giving. All of us know the things we are supposed to say. But I can assure you that no sweet lesson at mom’s knee was half as powerful as what was communicated when mom went into a tizzy over the loss of her money! I can tell my children until I am blue in the face to live at peace with one another, but if I haul off and insult their mother at the slightest provocation, guess which lesson they learn? I can send my children to Sunday School courtesy of the transportation ministry from now until the Lord returns, but if they see me sleeping in every Sunday, guess what seems most real to them? Micah’s mother taught him selfishness, whether she intended to or not. It may not have been put into words, but her investment in that lost money taught the lesson.
Now then look what happens when young Micah decides to give the money back. All sorts of things. Mom says, “May my son be blessed of the Lord.” Well, isn’t that special?! “May my son be blessed of the Lord” Wasn’t it time to say, “Son, what you did was wrong, and now there is going to be a price to pay?” Wasn’t it time to say, “My boy, you are not only going to give that money back, but you are going to sit right down and talk with me about what you did?” But no, only, “May my son be blessed.” You know, if we as parents do not teach our children that actions have consequences, what can we expect from them? If they are turned loose to be and do whatever seems right in their own eyes, what can we expect? There was no king in Israel – there was no real parenting in this home, all the people did what was right in their own eyes.
And, as though that were not enough, then Mom says to Micah, “You know, I was planning to use that 1100 pieces of silver for the Lord, but now, since you gave it back, I’m just going to take 200 pieces and make me an idol.” How about that? I was going to do something special for the Lord, but now that we all agree that we can just do whatever feels good at the moment – now I’m going to get off cheap and just use a little of it for an idol. Because, my son Micah, we don’t want to go overboard with this obedience thing. Why, if I were to obey the Lord and do what I promised for Him, I’d have to expect you, Micah, to obey me and to do what you ought to do for me. We can’t have that, can we? We can’t put ourselves to that kind of inconvenience.
And so Micah’s mother, knowing that her son is dishonest, and seeing that he got his dishonesty from her, leads him to worship and to serve himself. There was no king – no authority – no discipline – in Israel, and no real parenting in this one of Israel’s homes. Small wonder that all the people did what was right in their own eyes.
In my home community, there was a family who chose to let their children do whatever they wanted to do. Mother and father abdicated, and let their son behave like a little animal. One day we had a substitute teacher at Longfellow School. That young man became even more abusive than usual. He threw things, he yelled, he hit other children. No boundaries whatsoever. Sad, because he was really a genius – a musician, a linguist, an athlete. He had it all. But a few years later, we heard the tragic end; miserable, unhappy, dissatisfied, without restraints, he killed himself.
For there is no substitute for lives committed to justice and morality. Yet, if we are to have lives committed to justice, there is no substitute for obedience to the true and living God. And if we are to have obedience to the true and living God, there is no substitute for responsible parents and grandparents and surrogate parents and caring adults. There is no substitute. Otherwise there is no authority in Israel, and all the people do only what is right in their own eyes. The end of that is a tragic mess.
