The Strength of Weakness

Second Chronicles 20. Actually, let’s go to 2 Chronicles 17 and just a few verses there, and then we’ll fast-forward. Because I won’t do a lot with the context. I’ll just assume knowledge on the part of all of you.

So, Jehoshaphat—chapter 17, 2 Chronicles:

“Jehoshaphat his son reigned in his place and strengthened himself against Israel. He placed forces in all the fortified cities of Judah and set garrisons in the land of Judah, and in the cities of Ephraim that Asa his father had captured. The Lord was with Jehoshaphat, because he walked in the earlier ways of his father David. He did not seek the Baals, but sought the God of his father and walked in his commandments, and not according to the practices of Israel. Therefore the Lord established the kingdom in his hand. And all Judah brought tribute to Jehoshaphat, and he had great riches and honor. His heart was courageous in the ways of the Lord. And furthermore, he took the high places and the Asherim out of Judah.”[1]

You can read the interim later in the day as you choose. But we’ll go to chapter 20. Jehoshaphat has executed these reforms. And then the Chronicler tells us that:

“After this the Moabites and Ammonites, and with them some of the Meunites, came against Jehoshaphat for battle. Some men came and told Jehoshaphat, ‘A great multitude is coming against you from Edom, from beyond the sea; and, behold, they are in Hazazon-tamar’ (that is, Engedi). Then Jehoshaphat was afraid and set his face to seek the Lord, and proclaimed a fast throughout all Judah. And Judah assembled to seek help from the Lord; from all the cities of Judah they came to seek the Lord.

“And Jehoshaphat stood in the assembly of Judah and Jerusalem, in the house of the Lord, before the new court, and said, ‘O Lord, God of our fathers, are you not God in heaven? You rule over all the kingdoms of the nations. In your hand are power and might, so that none is able to withstand you. Did you not, our God, drive out the inhabitants of this land before your people Israel, and give it forever to the descendants of Abraham your friend? And they have lived in it and have built for you in it a sanctuary for your name, saying, “If disaster comes upon us, the sword, judgment, or pestilence, or famine, we will stand before this house and before you—for your name is in this house—and cry out to you in our affliction, and you will hear and save.” And now behold, the men of Ammon and Moab and Mount Seir, whom you would not let Israel invade when they came from the land of Egypt, and whom they avoided and did not destroy—behold, they reward us by coming to drive us out of your possession, which you[’ve] given us to inherit. O our God, will you not execute judgment on them? For we are powerless against this great horde that is coming against us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on you.’

“Meanwhile all Judah stood before the Lord, with their little ones, their wives, and their children. And the Spirit of the Lord came upon Jahaziel the son of Zechariah, son of Benaiah, son of Jeiel, son of Mattaniah, a Levite of the sons of Asaph, in the midst of the assembly. And he said, ‘Listen, all Judah and inhabitants of Jerusalem and King Jehoshaphat: Thus says the Lord to you, “Do not be afraid and do not be dismayed at this great horde, for the battle is not yours but God’s. Tomorrow go down against them. Behold, they will come up by the ascent of Ziz. You will find them at the end of the valley, east of the wilderness of Jeruel. You will not need to fight in this battle. Stand firm, hold your position, and see the salvation of the Lord on your behalf, O Judah and Jerusalem.” Do not be afraid and do not be dismayed. Tomorrow go out against them, and the Lord will be with you.’

“Then Jehoshaphat bowed his head with his face to the ground, and all Judah and the inhabitants of Jerusalem fell down before the Lord, worshiping the Lord. And the Levites, of the Kohathites and the Korahites, stood up to praise the Lord, the God of Israel, with a very loud voice.”

Thus ends the reading of the Word.

We’ll have another brief prayer:

Father, we come to material which, for many of us, is not unusual. And we come as learners from you, the living God—you the one in whom, in Jesus, are all the answers to all the questions. And we pray that you will bless to us our study now as we think about what we’ve discovered here and as we seek to internalize it, as we think of where we’ve come from, what we’ve been doing, to what we’re going to return. And we earnestly ask that you will bring it home to us in such a way that as a group, but certainly as individuals, we might have that which is a very word, almost like from Jahaziel, to us, to help us on our way. And we ask it in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Well, I can’t resist using one of my favorite illustrations, which you may have heard twenty times, but it doesn’t stop me from using it, especially in this context. It’s very important to me, and it goes along these lines: I had to wait to the age of sixteen before I ever saw a game of American football. So I had a deprived childhood. But it was at an American Air Force base in Hertfordshire, in England, and I found myself there because of an American family that lived in that area. The Air Force, the American Air Force, was playing some other team. I knew nothing about what was going on at all, except I was struck by the presence of these people who were euphemistically called cheerleaders. (And I was a sixteen-year-old boy, so you can imagine, when the game didn’t mean much…) But they had these things that they shook, and they were for whatever team it was that was taking on the Air Force. Their initial chant went like this: “You can do it! You can do it! You can! You can! You can do it! You can do it! You can! You can!” But they hadn’t done anything yet, so… We’re going to find out.

But as the game progressed, it was an annihilation by the—the Air Force destroyed this team. I was amazed. It was like, the score went up like the number of hours here spent in pastoral ministry as represented this morning. But nevertheless, they kept the chant going: “You can do it! You can do it! You can! You can!”

There’s nothing worse than that kind of crazy encouragement where, in actual fact, we’re not dealing in the realm of reality.

Now, the problem with that was very straightforward: They couldn’t. They couldn’t. And it was obvious to everybody. And all through the years in pastoral ministry, I have come up on cheerleaders. They’re well-meaning people. I’m not talking about girls now but just general cheerleaders, people who want to be an encouragement to you. And boy, we sure need encouragement!

But there’s nothing worse than that kind of crazy encouragement where, in actual fact, we’re not dealing in the realm of reality. We’re hoping that somehow or another, if you just keep saying this, it may actually prove to be true. Far more helpful is somebody who comes to us and says, “You know what, Begg? You can’t do this. But I’d like to talk with you about how we might be able to make some progress.” And that is really the genesis of this first study. And that is why we’ve read here from 2 Chronicles.

I am very aware of the fact that the temptation, particularly in this country—and it’s been transferred overseas as well—is to imagine that the people who would fulfill the role that is entrusted to us are not like Jehoshaphat at all. In other words, we’re like the people who don’t ever find ourselves saying, “Oh no, we don’t know what to do,” because we’re supposed to know what we do. And Jehoshaphat, according to that standard, is—although a remarkable man and a good man—but in terms of this, he doesn’t fit that framework at all. And he is prepared—which is what is striking about it—to acknowledge it. He is prepared to say in verse 12 to God, “Number one, we are powerless; and number two, we are clueless.” “We are powerless, and we are clueless.”

Now, keep in mind that this is the Jehoshaphat of chapter 17, who has done such a remarkable job of sticking with the program of David and making sure that things were put to rights.

Now, I’ve always liked Jehoshaphat because he was prepared to say that, because it’s immediately somebody with whom I can identify. And as we get to the end of the day, we’ll see it again when we get to Paul in 2 Corinthians.

But it provides, I think, a word of encouragement for those of us who have maybe come to this particular morning or in the last little while saying to ourselves, “You know, I feel like I’m losing 46–0, and I’ve got a few people around me who think that I will be able to keep going as long as they keep telling me, “You can do it! You can do it! You can! You can!” And deep inside, there’s nothing worse than that: the awareness of our own sense of feebleness before the challenge, and then somebody well-meaningly trying to encourage us in that way.

Now, the background to this—and I’ll only take a moment on the background. My plan in dealing with places like 2 Chronicles is what I call the principle of planned neglect, and that is you just acknowledge up front, “I haven’t studied all this, and I’m, frankly, not going to study it all, but if you would like to study it, have a great afternoon.” All right? That way you don’t create the impression that you have a vast, you know, a mass of great information that you’re only giving them a little bit. If they know you at all, they know that’s not true. And so we have to be very straightforward.

That’s why I read from chapter 17: that Jehoshaphat’s leadership was significant leadership. Jehoshaphat, when you read, had presided, if you like, over a period of reformation. He had been able to see many things established. In fact, we might even be prepared to say that it had been something of a revival under Jehoshaphat’s influence. If your Bible is open at 17, verse 9: “And they taught in Judah, having the Book of the Law of the Lord with them,” and “they went about through all the cities of Judah,” and they “taught among the people. And the fear of the Lord fell upon all the kingdoms of the lands that were around Judah,” and so on, the point being that it was a reformation, if you like, of biblical preaching—that they went back to the authority of God’s Word under the leadership of Jehoshaphat; he then sends them out into the fields to do that kind of thing. In 19:4: “Jehoshaphat lived at Jerusalem. And he went out again among the people, from Beersheba to the hill country of Ephraim”—notice—“and [he] brought them back to the Lord, the God of their fathers.”

So, there’s, if you like, a reformation, a revival of biblical preaching; and there is a restoration of their own hearts’ engagement, if you like, with the truth that they’re discovering. He had, in his role, urged them to live faithfully and to be engaged wholeheartedly—“deal courageously,” I think, if you have it open—19:11: “Behold, they reward us by coming to drive us out of your possession, which you have given [to] us.” No, that’s 20. So it’s 19 and verse 11 (I may have to put the glasses on here in a minute): “And behold, Amariah the chief priest is over you in all matters of the Lord,” and so on. That’s the circumstances. The chapter ends, “Deal courageously, and may the Lord be with [you and with] the upright!”

Now, all of that by way of background. And then, in short order, as you turn into chapter 20 (which just says, you know, “[And] after this…”), all of a sudden, Jehoshaphat now is confronted with circumstances that essentially call for him to heed his own counsel—that he has given counsel, he has given direction, and the people under his leadership understand exactly what he’s been saying; but now there’s a crisis that is before him, and it’s related to this vast army, or, in the ESV here, this huge “horde,” or this “great multitude.” And as you go through that, you realize that this is being said, and again and again: “a great multitude,” a “great horde,” a “great company.”[2] And as we teach our people, there’s no underlining in the text, and therefore, the Chronicler is getting his information across by repetition. So we watch for those repeats. And the Chronicler clearly wants us to understand that that is the case.

And given the crisis—there’s great honesty in this—20:3: “Then Jehoshaphat was afraid.” He was alarmed, so that his position—if you like, his profile—before the people did not make him immune to fear. It didn’t mean that because he trusted entirely in God, that he was committed to the principles of God, that when, all of a sudden, he is confronted in this way, he’s not playing a card like “Well, I’m Jehoshaphat, and I know a lot of stuff about this.” No, we’re told that he was actually afraid.

It’s a reminder, isn’t it, that courage is not the opposite of fear? I mean, when you see these people doing rock climbing, I don’t know if that’s courage or insanity. But they tell us that they’re afraid as they reach for those holds but that their courage sort of overrules their sense of fearfulness.

Coming to Terms with Weakness

Now, that is the context, and I want to make three observations—first of all, if you like, coming to terms with weakness, or admitting to weakness, being prepared to say what is said here.

Verse 13 is full of pathos. It’s such an amazing picture. If you could paint, you might do something with this: “Meanwhile all Judah stood before the Lord, with their little ones, their wives, and their children.”

If anybody had come on the crowd, they would have said, “What are these people doing?” Well, they’re standing before the Lord. “Well, I can see they’re standing there, but what are they actually doing?” Well, they’re not actually doing anything else at all. They’re standing before the Lord—that “they just assembled, then, from all those towns of Judah just to stand there?” Well, that’s the picture that we have.

Well, they’re seeking the Lord. Yes. Yes, they are seeking the Lord. But they don’t look particularly powerful. They don’t look like they’re about to take on the universe. They don’t look like they’re ready to do anything very much at all. Maybe they should have got a copy of The Purpose-Driven Church, and then they would have at least had something to deal with while they were waiting.

Now, this is, of course, straightforward stuff, isn’t it? I mean, you didn’t come here to find out things you don’t know. We all came together to remind us about things we can’t forget or we mustn’t forget. You fast-forward into the New Testament, and Paul, seeking to encourage the Corinthians, reminds them, “You were a sorry bunch yourself.” That’s a paraphrase by me, but that’s what he’s saying: “Consider your calling, brethren. You weren’t a particularly bright bunch. Not many of you were noble. Not many of you were particularly strong in any of these areas at all. And this is what God chose to do with you.”[3] And, of course, he only says that on the back of what he said about himself: “When I came to you, I came to you in weakness and in fear and with much trembling.”[4] Well, it wasn’t because he doubted the power of God. It was because he was confronted by a challenge, walking into Corinth, to bring that very word of God to the people there.

And so it’s obvious, isn’t it? Jehoshaphat is not the Arnold Schwarzenegger of the Old Testament. In fact, his posture challenges the prevalent notion (I wonder, is it still a prevalent notion? I think it is in large measure) that effective Christian leadership is found in the strong, rugged, maybe handsome—although looking out at you and seeing my face, I think we can drop the handsome part—but anyway, the idea that this is what we’re looking for.

But we should be disavowed of that very quickly, because even a cursory glance at the story of the Bible and the people that God has chosen to use makes it clear that the servants of God throughout Scripture are actually in so many cases marked by hesitancy, by timidity, by caution, weakness, and hopefully with a due sense of personal inadequacy. With a due sense of personal inadequacy—not an inadequacy that is fake or that is completely debilitating. But it is enough to keep us there.

“My clan,” the young guy said, “my clan is the weakest …, and I am the least in my [family].”[5] “You’re my man, Gideon.” What! “O mighty man of valor.”[6] He must have been looking over his shoulder: “There’s got to be somebody else in here.” But “No, it’s actually you.”

“I don’t know how to speak. I’m only a child.”

“Jeremiah, I got a big plan for you.”[7]

They’re not starting from a sense of “Hey, I did the training. I know this stuff. You know, I’m ready for this.”

Timothy! Timothy! He’s got two books, you know, of his own. “If Timothy comes, make good use of him.” This is Paul to the Corinthians. You know this. “If Timothy comes, make good use of him.” No, it doesn’t say that! You’re nodding your heads. I’m making this up. “If Timothy comes, make good use of him, elevate his profile, and see that his influence is felt.” Do you remember that? Of course you don’t, ’cause it’s not there. What it actually says by Paul is “If Timothy comes, put him at his ease.”[8] “Put him at his ease. See to it that he has nothing to fear when he’s with you.” It’s quite fabulous, isn’t it? I mean, he’s the guy that takes the baton out of the hands of the apostle Paul. He’s the guy that’s got two letters all of his own. You’d think he’d be coming in going, “Hey! Hey, I’m Timothy. You know, I was—yeah, I just…” No: “Put him at his ease.”

And I know it’s standard material that, you know, Timothy had a weak tummy, he was supposed to take wine—which he did; otherwise, Paul wouldn’t have said it.[9] But the idea that Timothy is unique in that regard: I used to think that, but I don’t think so. I think he’s there just emblematic of the average pastor. The average pastor. You know, “fighting[s] without and fear[s] within,”[10] we come to Sunday.

Now, the purpose in all of that, in being confronted with weakness, whatever way it might be—and God has a way of using all kinds of things in our lives, and we might think about that when we talk about it later in the day—but his purpose is straightforward: It is that we might depend entirely on him. Just depend entirely on him—that if dependence is the objective, then weakness is actually the advantage. And some of us are slow learners. And so God in his mercy confronts us with things. It could be through our children. It could be through our physical frailty, cares, family challenges, whatever it might be.

The hymn writers of old were prepared to acknowledge this—that all kinds of cares and troubles may come and will come. They’ll come against us. But if they drive us to God in the awareness of helplessness, then they’re for our good. And here’s the hymn quote, just three lines of it. The hymn writer is praising God for things. [She] says,

Glory to [you] for strength withheld,
For want and weakness known—
[For] fear that [drives] me to [yourself].[11]

I don’t think you find that emphasis very, very much in contemporary literature: “Glory to you for strength withheld, for want and weakness known.” No, we’re supposed to fight against that entirely.

If dependence is the objective, then weakness is actually an advantage.

Now, when we think about these things, it’s only when we’re confronted by the fact of personal inadequacy that we will then be quickened and enabled by finding our strength in God. And it is imperative, I’ve discovered over the years, that my posture, that our posture, is right before God in our heart of hearts. If my posture is wrong before God in my heart of hearts—if I say publicly, “Oh, I’m a humble person,” like Uriah Heep, but in my heart I’m proud—then I will end up posturing before people. I will either have to make myself out to be something other than I am in order to compensate for the sense of weakness that is so classically and obviously within me…

Now, C. S. Lewis in his Four Loves, you know, addresses something along those lines where he says—and it’s a warning—“Those like myself whose imagination far exceeds their obedience”—it’s a great line—“whose imagination … exceeds their obedience are subject to a just penalty; we easily imagine conditions far higher than we have [actually] reached. If we describe what we have imagined we may make others, and make ourselves, believe that we have [actually] been there,”[12] and so fool them and fool ourselves.

There’s such a vivid contrast between that kind of posturing and the picture that we have of Jehoshaphat, like a shepherd, in 19:4. We quoted it earlier, but it’s worth repeating: “Jehoshaphat lived at Jerusalem. And he went out again among the people, from Beersheba to the hill country of Ephraim, and [he] brought them back to the Lord, the God of their fathers.” We had people over at our house last night, and the fellow is a big fan of Scotland, and he found a shepherd’s crook. And I said, “That was my grandfather’s. He was a shepherd in the Highlands, in Caithness.” And as I took it from him so that he wouldn’t try and steal it, as I held it again, I thought, “If this crook could speak of rescues, of interventions, of whacks on the nose, it would be such a revelation—the function of the shepherd amongst the sheep.” And that’s our role, actually. We’re pastors, we’re teachers, but we are elders and shepherds of the flock of God that is in our charge.

That picture is such a good picture to keep in mind. Here is a picture that we don’t really want to have in mind: Years ago, one of my nieces was preparing for a competition at her school in Scotland, and she had to memorize a number of poems by A. A. Milne—you know, Pooh Bear and all that stuff. And one of the poems that she was memorizing, I thought it was so fantastic that I memorized it with her. But a long time passed, and I’ve forgotten it, but I still have the book. It goes like this. If you know A. A. Milne, this is a great poem. It’s called “Bad Sir Brian Botany.” “Bad Sir Brian Botany.” I won’t read it all, because we’re not here to read poetry.

Sir Brian had a battleaxe with great big knobs on;
He [walked] among the villagers and blipped them on the head.
On Wednesday and on Saturday, but mostly on the latter day,
He called at all the cottages, and this is what he said:

“I am Sir Brian!” (ting-ling)
 “I am Sir Brian!” (rat-tat)
“I am Sir Brian, as bold as a lion—
 Take that!—and that—and that!”

I’ll give you one more verse:

Sir Brian had a pair of boots with great big spurs on;
A fighting pair of which he was particularly fond.
On Tuesday and on Friday, just to make the street[s] look tidy,
He’d collect the passing villagers and kick them in the pond.

“I am Sir Brian!” (sper-lash)
 “I am Sir Brian!” (sper-losh!)
“I am Sir Brian, as bold as a lion—
 Is [there] anyone else for a wash?”[13]

Now, I read that because you might have noticed that one of the challenges that has been and one of the discoveries that has been made in the last fifteen or twenty years is that some of us in the position of pastoral influence have begun to adopt Sir Brian Botany’s approach. How can it possibly be that congregations are able to level legitimate accusations against their shepherds, who appear not to be shepherds at all but appear to be walking through the villages with great big boots on, announcing who we are and what we are and how powerful and influential we are? How does that come about? It comes about quietly, progressively, horribly, in the secret places of our hearts, because we might have been tempted to say, “No, I really don’t have any weakness to admit.”

Now, I’m sure that’s not true of any of us here this morning. I trust it’s not. But that’s the first point: that we need to come to terms with it and be honest about it—not debilitating, but nevertheless there.

Taking It Back to Basics

What do we do with it, then? How does Jehoshaphat deal with it? What does he do here? Well, you can see it in the text. He is able to acknowledge his weakness. That’s in verse 3. And as a people, he identifies himself in leadership. He does so with candor, because he recognizes everything that God is. And this is so obvious that we just should make sure we don’t miss it. How does he address these things? Well, he addresses them, obviously, in light of “This is who I am, and this is who you are.”

So he takes things back to basics: “And Jehoshaphat stood in the assembly of Judah and [Israel], in the house of the Lord, before the new court, and [he] said,” number one, “‘O Lord, God of our fathers, are[n’t] [you] God in heaven?’” “Aren’t you God in heaven?”

“Who has measured the waters in the hollow of his hand …? Who has held the dust of the earth in a basket …?”[14] “Who has understood the mind of the Lord …?”[15]

Lift up your eyes … to the heavens:
 Who created all these?
He who brings out the starry host one by one
  and calls … them [each] by name.
Because of his great power and [his] mighty strength,
 not one of them is missing.[16]

So he said, “Okay, let me just think about this for a moment. Aren’t you the God of creation? Aren’t you the God who has put the world in place? Aren’t you in charge?” That’s what he says in verse 6.

But he’s not finished in there! “Aren’t you this God? And don’t you—don’t you—rule over all the kingdoms of all the nations? Don’t you? Well, of course you do!” It’s good to remind ourselves of that this morning, isn’t it? Whatever way you thought about last night—and I went to bed and only found out at three thirty this morning the result of the election—but one of my friends immediately sent me a note from Scotland at some ungodly hour during the night. (I don’t know what he was doing. He must be an insomniac.) But this is what he said: “Begg, we do not trust in chariots or horses.[17] Our confidence is in the things that you folks are going be talking about tomorrow morning”—that is, right now. That’s a good word. This is our confidence. Our confidence is in the gospel. Our confidence is that he rules over all things, that he’s a sovereign God. No matter what way it goes—up, down, back or forward—that’s true.

And so he brings himself back to that. And in verse 7 he says, “Did you not, [O] God, drive out the inhabitants of this land before your people Israel …?” Of course! “Didn’t you give it to us? Aren’t you a covenant-keeping God?” Absolutely! Then he begins to apply it. And he says, “Well then, won’t you, if disaster comes upon us—sword, judgment, pestilence, famine—won’t you show yourself strong for us? Won’t you…” At the end of verse 9: “You will hear, and you will save. And in light of that, this is what we’re going to do.”

What are we going to do? “Well, we’re going to stand in your presence. We’re going to cry out to you in our distress. And the answer to the crying from a distressed soul is in who you are, what you have promised, and what you’re doing. We don’t look like we have much to offer in this potential conflict, but one plus God is a majority.” And so he is able to go on and say, “Behold, these people are coming to us to drive us out of your possession which you have given us to inherit. They can’t do that! They can’t do that!”

But remember, it’s the juxtaposition between what he knows and what he feels: “I know this is true of you. I know that this is who you are. I know this is what you have done. But Lord, this morning, I feel powerless, and frankly, I feel a little clueless! But you are the God who keeps all of his promises.” And that is where the issue of weakness is then answered.

Our confidence is in the gospel. Our confidence is that God rules over all things, that he’s sovereign. No matter what way things goes—up, down, back or forward—that’s true.

And wonderfully, of course, it is in God’s Word. And this fellow, Jazzy, or whatever his name was—Jahaziel (we can call him Jazzy; he doesn’t know)—but “meanwhile…” Don’t you love, like, “meanwhile” and stuff? How long a while was “meanwhile”? I don’t know. “After this…” How long “after this”? We don’t need to worry about that, but it is intriguing. It’s just the way it’s introduced: “After this…”

“Meanwhile [as] all Judah stood before the Lord, with their little ones, their wives, and their children … the Spirit of the Lord came upon Jahaziel the son of Zechariah, [the] son of Beniah, [the] son of Jeiel, [the] son of Mattaniah.” Okay, we get it! He’s got a heritage. We understand. All right. And “… a Levite of the sons of Asaph, in the midst of the assembly. And he said, ‘Listen.’” “Listen.” If you’re going to bring a word from God, that’s what you’re supposed to say: “Listen.” Not “Watch,” you know. “Listen.”

“Listen, all Judah.”

“Who do you think you are, Jazzy? You’re going to step up in the middle of this thing and start shouting out like that? You better have a word from God!”

“Oh, I got a word from God, yeah. In fact, listen, all of you—and King Jehoshaphat.”

“Well, I don’t listen to anybody.”

“Really? Well, you’re going to listen now. Thus says the Lord to you…”

What does the Lord say? “Well, he wants you to listen. That’s why I said that. And he wants you to make sure that you are not afraid and that you’re not dismayed because of the great horde.” In other words: “How you feel right now, what you’re facing right now, is a destabilizing thing. God’s word to you is: Don’t be afraid, and don’t be discouraged, because the battle is not yours but God’s.”

In other words, the principle is straightforward, isn’t it? He’s saying to the king—and he’s a good king; he’s a good king, and he knows his stuff—“King, you need to learn what God does and what you do. And what you do, you do as a result of God’s grace and goodness to you in your life. But what you’re doing is actually subservient to what God is doing.”

And the directive, it’s very straightforward. You see it there in verse 16. There’s nothing vague about the word that comes from the servant of God. He wants them to “go down”: “Tomorrow go down against them.”

“Well, are you sure that’s really what we ought to be doing?”

“Well,” he says, “if you go down, when you go down, this is what you’ll discover. And also, you should stand firm.”

It’s there in the verse as well, isn’t it? I think it’s… (I’m trying not to put these blooming glasses on.) Verse 17: “You will not need to fight in this battle. Stand firm, hold your position.” “Stand firm, hold your position.” It’s good, that, isn’t it? Yeah.

What should we do today? I woke up this morning early, first because that joker in Scotland woke me up on my phone. But then I woke up, and I was thinking about the day, thinking about you men coming. I was thinking about a whole ton of things, as you usually do about half past three or quarter to four. And I could just hear Elisabeth Elliot’s voice in my ear. You know Elisabeth’s great quote? “When you don’t know what to do, do the next thing.”[18] “Do the next thing.” And I said, “Okay, then. I’ll just go do the next thing.” And here I am, trying to do the next thing.

And that’s what he said to them: “You can go down, and you can stand firm, you can hold your position, and you can actually see the salvation that the Lord will give you.”

Looking to God

Let me just leave it at that. And we can do a little response to it if we choose, but not necessarily. I’d rather give more time for interaction than you listening to me all the time. But let’s try and make… I noted one or two points of application.

Obviously, I’ve left you huge gaps in the story, purposefully. That’s the principle of planned neglect, as I already acknowledged. But what actually happens is that, having staggered at the prospect of the battle, what actually unfolds then is that they are bowed down under the bounty, if you like, that God has provided for them. And if that bounty had come without that hesitancy in the process, then it wouldn’t actually have accomplished what, clearly, God was accomplishing. Because the people then, under Jehoshaphat’s leadership, had—although they knew he was a good king and had done a lot of good things—they knew in this context, it had pretty well stopped him in his tracks. That’s why they were all standing together. But in that moment, he did what he ought to do: He said, “[Look,] we do not know what to do, but our eyes are [upon] you.”

Now, you can’t stay like that for the rest of your ministry. But in my experience, you’re going to be saying that quite a lot: “I’m not sure what to do, but I am looking to you.” And that’s, again—within the framework of leading leaders in our church, they’re going to look to us. Many of them are going to be tempted, because of the background out of which they come, to say, “Well, look, I work in,” you know, “chemical engineering,” or something, “and I don’t go in meetings and go, ‘Well, I don’t know what to do.’ I mean, if I do that, they’ll fire me! And so I don’t expect to come in here and you, pastor, teacher, leader, you sit in the elders’ meeting and tell me, ‘I’m not sure what to do.’” That kind of pressure may pressure us into coming up with a bunch of stuff that we don’t even believe in ourselves.

Well, we don’t really need to be reminded of our weakness, do we? In fact, it’s thoroughly depressing. You’re saying, “I wish I’d never come here. It was a great idea till I got here, and now… I thought he had something good, and now, apparently, he’s having his own crisis and wanted to share it with us. No, we don’t need to be reminded of our weakness.” Yes, we do. Yes, we do.

You know, when I was assistant to Derek Prime, when we would pray before the service began, I remember—he didn’t pray this all the time, but I remember him praying it: “Lord, we’re about to go and deliver your Word to your people. If your purpose is to humble us in this experience, then allow us to accept that. If your purpose is to, you know, advance our usefulness, then let us accept that.” And I think God, in his mercy, whether it’s a thorn[19] or whatever it might be, he chooses to use these things in order that we might be prepared to say, “I’m not sure I can do this.”

I’m sure we all do the same thing. You know, I stand often at the window of my study, and I just look out on a Sunday morning, and I see the people coming and going. And here they are, these souls that are entrusted to us for eternity’s sake. And, you know, if they knew how personally inadequate their pastor is, they would probably never actually listen to me preach. But then again, as Dick Lucas says, if we knew how useless they are, we’d probably never preach to them. So it kind of balances itself out.

Maybe a personal anecdote, and I’ll finish with this. But when I came to this country in ’83, I really was clueless. I mean, if you looked up clueless in the dictionary, there was a picture of me at thirty-one years of age. And that sort of—I managed to accumulate more cluelessness as the years advanced. So it wasn’t like I got less clueless; I actually seemed to get more clueless. And I had people that I’m kind of alluding to—nobody from chemical engineering, so… But I had people come to me and say, “Pastor, you’ve got to give us the five-year plan.” And I said, “Okay. Yeah.” And then I went away, and I thought, “What does that mean? I mean, what is the plan?” I said, “I mean, basically, I’m just trying to get to Sunday, let alone five-year plan!” And I’m not suggesting that I didn’t have any idea in my head, but I just didn’t understand that kind of thing.

And then, eventually, I said, “Okay, I have a plan, but it’s a long plan. It’s not a five-year plan. It’s a plan that is a purpose statement that comes out of the redemptive purposes of God: that he has promised that on that day, there will be a company that is so vast, like the sands of the sea or the stars of the sky,[20] made up of every tribe, nation, people, and language, bowing down before the Lamb.”[21] I said, “So my plan is to do whatever we can do where God has set us in order that on that day we will rejoice in that reality.” Well, that was no help to them at all. They thought that was a cop-out. And I’ve been managing to con them now for the last forty-one years.

Let’s not think for a minute that we’re, like, proud of being clueless. That’s not what we’re talking about, because that could be an inverted form of snobbery. But it’s just better, whatever it is God uses in our lives to bring us back routinely to recognize that one can plant, and another can water, but only God can make things grow.[22] I mean, we might as well stand at the graveyard down the road here in Chagrin and call out the names of the people on the stones and have them come out. What chance is there of that? Zero. What chance is there of us calling people out of deadness? Zero. Well, that’s a good sense of inadequacy.

Father, thank you for the Bible. Thank you for these moments. Bless us as we think these things through today. Help us, and help us to help one another as we get the chance to talk with each other, perhaps mentioning things or things that occur or questions, encouragements to each other. Help us to be just that. Help nobody to feel they’re sitting here all on their own and that they’re having their own personal dreadful day, but stir up our hearts with a genuine affection for one another, we pray. And we ask it in Jesus’ name. Amen.

[1] 2 Chronicles 17:1–6 (ESV).

[2] 2 Chronicles 20:12 (KJV).

[3] 1 Corinthians 1:26–29 (paraphrased).

[4] 1 Corinthians 2:3 (paraphrased).

[5] Judges 6:15 (ESV).

[6] Judges 6:12 (ESV).

[7] Jeremiah 1:6–8 (paraphrased).

[8] 1 Corinthians 16:10 (paraphrased).

[9] See 1 Timothy 5:23.

[10] 2 Corinthians 7:5 (ESV).

[11] Anna Letitia Waring, “My Heart Is Resting, O My God” (1849).

[12] C. S. Lewis, The Four Loves (1960), chap. 6.

[13] A. A. Milne, “Bad Sir Brian Botany” (1924).

[14] Isaiah 40:12 (NIV).

[15] 1 Corinthians 2:16 (ESV).

[16] Isaiah 40:26 (NIV).

[17] See Psalm 20:7.

[18] Elisabeth Elliot, The Shaping of a Christian Family (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1992), 178–79. Paraphrased.

[19] See 2 Corinthians 12:7.

[20] See Genesis 15:5; 22:17; 26:4; 32:12.

[21] See Revelation 7:9.

[22] See 1 Corinthians 3:6–7.