An Astonishing Mercy

Sermon manuscript for Gig Harbor Adventist Fellowship. (Andreas is preaching at Green Lake Church on December 13)

Sabbath, December 13, 2014

Based on Joshua 9, 2 Samuel 21, Luke 10, and Acts 15

It's one of those tense moments that in the hands of the right movie director make you hold your breath. What's going to happen?

Over here on the right of the screen you see angry argument. An army of rough characters is arguing with their general and a few other chiefs and dignitaries. Over on the left side of scene you can see people cowering, mothers holding their children close. Men standing with crossed arms. Impassive faces, awaiting their fate.

The camera zooms in on the argument. The soldiers are insisting the general give the order to attack. This is going to be a quick slaughter. It's the right thing to do. Just give the order.

The general stands feet planted, his arms on his hips. Listening, but not bending. There is no negotiation. He had already said no. It's not going to happen.

He repeats what he's said dozens of times:

We gave these people our word. We signed a treaty. Yes, they tricked us. Yes, they were dishonest. But we will not sink to their level. We will not go back on our word. We will not violate a treaty. No!

Slowly the commotion subsides. The angry soldiers move back into their groups muttering. The people at risk, the people whose fate was the center of this fierce conflict relax a bit. The crisis eases.

Finally, the general, having quieted his men, turns to talk with the people on the other side of this treaty. He is joined by tribal elders.

“What were you thinking?” he demands. “Why did you deceive us? Why did you trick us into signing a treaty by saying you lived nearby?”

They replied, "We did it because we--your servants--were clearly told that the LORD your God commanded his servant Moses to give you this entire land and to destroy all the people living in it. So we feared greatly for our lives because of you. That is why we have done this. (Joshua 9)

Did you get that? These people—they were called Gibeonites—knew that God had ordered the Jewish people to annihilate the residents of Canaan. The Gibeonites had heard about the miraculous triumphs of Israel against the Egyptians, the Amorites and the people of Jericho. They knew they didn't stand a chance militarily, so they decided to try a different stratagem.

They sent a delegation to ask for a peace treaty with the Jewish people. Of course, they knew the Israelites weren't supposed to make treaties with local people in Canaan, so they stole a different identity. The delegation dressed in worn-out clothes, they carried stale bread and old, cracking wine skins. They wore sandals with broken straps.

When the Gibeonite delegation arrived in the Jewish camp, the Jews were suspicious. “Don't you know we're not supposed to make treaties with people from around here?”

(Moses had specifically allowed them to make treaties with distant nations but had forbidden them to make treaties or even any concessions to the local residents of Canaan. The locals were to be exterminated. Moses repeated this command over and over. There was no ambiguity.)

“Oh, course, we understand,” the Gibeonites said. “We know you can't make treaties with Canaanites, but we are from way far from here. This stale bread: It was fresh from the oven when we started our trip. These wine skins—their water bottles—they were in pretty good shape when we set out. And our sandals. They were new. It's taken us weeks of travel to get here. But your fame has gone everywhere. That's why our elders sent us to make a treaty with you. You are clearly going to be a great nation. We want to be your allies.”

Joshua and the elders were suspicious, but the bread was stale. The wine skins were cracked. The sandals were worn. It was gratifying that the fame of God's power was so widespread, so sure, why not. Joshua and the elders made a treaty. They pledged protection and non-aggression to the reps of the Gibeonites.

Three days later, the Jews learn they've been had. These people are the Gibeonites, a subdivision of one of the major Canaanite tribes. These are the very people God had told them: Don't make treaties with them. Show no mercy. Exterminate them. Annihilate them. Absolute eradication.

The Israelite army marched to Gibeon.

The rank and file of the army wanted to get busy doing God's work. They wanted to rid the earth of these lying, conniving, scheming pagans. But Joshua stops them.

“We gave our word. We took an oath. I don't care what God said. I know what we said. We will not break our word.”

My question to you: Was Joshua right? Or was the army right?

God said destroy these people. Joshua said spare them. The army wanted to do what God said. Joshua refused. Was Joshua right?

For a minute, I'm going to ignore your opinion. Let's look to see if the Bible itself answers this question. In Joshua 9, the chapter that tells this story, it seems evident to me that the writer is making a statement in favor of Joshua, but this is implicit, not explicit. However, in 2 Samuel 21, the Bible is horribly explicit.

There was a famine in the land of Israel during the time of King David. King David has his priests inquire of God regarding the reason for the famine. God says the famine has come as punishment on the nation because of actions taken by the previous king, King Saul. His patriotic zeal had led him to slaughter the Gibeonites. He imagined he was carrying out the will of God. Weren't these Gibeonites part of the Canaanite peoples? Hadn't God spoken through Moses repeatedly ordering the complete extermination of the Gibeonite people?

Now God is requiring King David, the “man after God's own heart” to address this issue. God makes it's clear that Saul's action, the slaughter of the Gibeonites was unjust, immoral.

Acting in accord with the justice system of that ancient culture, David delivered seven descendants of Saul to the Gibeonite elders to be executed as pay back for the slaughter Saul had directed.

After these executions, the famine went away. The land was at peace.

This whole story sounds bizarre to us. But before we dismiss it as an irrelevant, ancient tale, let me ask you, have you ever wondered if you were hopelessly excluded from the favor of God?

I have a friend who frequently tells me he knows he is going to be lost. I don't know for sure where his certainty comes from. As he's gotten older, his connection with God has gotten shakier. According to standard Christian formulas if his faith is shaky, then his salvation is shaky. Because we all know that God says if you don't believe you will be damned, sent to hell, lost.

But is that really so?

What if a person's loss of faith can be traced to dementia? If a person loses his faith because the person has lost mental function, do you imagine that God would really damn such a person? Don't you imagine that Jesus, like the ancient Joshua would step in and say, Hey wait a minute, I gave that person my word.

What about people who are developmentally disabled and are never able to articulate faith? What about people who are forty years old, unable to talk, and still in diapers? Is it still true that we would insist, they can't be saved because they haven't said the necessary words expressing faith?

What about homosexuals? Christians are so sure they are like the Canaanites. God hates them. God excludes them. But what if these folks have seen God's power and presence in this church, and they want to enjoy the grace of God that is specially available here? Will we act like Joshua's army and rehearse the words of condemnation or will we act like Joshua and defend their right to a safe and secure home here among the people of God?

In the famous story of the Good Samaritan, the good conservative religious scholar set up the story by asking who deserves to be included. Jesus answers by asking who is good enough to open the door. In Jesus story, it is the person with defective religion who is celebrate as the truly good person, the person who embodies the intentions of heaven.

What about us? When we read our Bibles do we underline the passages that express divine displeasure or divine welcome?

In Acts 15, the leaders of the early Christian church were debating the rules for including and excluding people from the church. There were devout conservatives who wanted to hold up the standards. They wanted to make sure everyone who joined the church measured up to exalted standards. Peter finally stood up and said, “Look, you know that God included people who had none of the credentials you people are talking about. God astonished us by giving a demonstrable gift of the Holy Spirit to unbaptized, uncircumcised pagans. Are we really supposed to be more particular than God? Then Peter made this fascinating statement: “Why are you now challenging God by burdening the Gentile believers with a yoke that neither we nor our ancestors were able to bear?”

Note Peter's argument: we have tried the approach of measuring everyone by standards. It doesn't work for us. It didn't work for our ancestors. Why would we impose it on the new people. Leave them alone.

My appeal to us: will we stand with Joshua and protect vulnerable people, even people who have questionable credentials? Or will we stand with Joshua's army and demand that God's harshest judgments be implemented?

Will we stand with the Pharisees and work to keep the church pure or will we stand with Peter and boldly welcome all God calls?