CHAPTER TWENTY
WHAT GOD WANTS
Why Faithful Is More Important Than Successful
I’ve always loved the eleventh chapter of Hebrews. It contains God’s Hall of Fame. It’s filled with the stories of faithful heroes. It starts out listing the famous greats like Noah, Abraham, Joseph, and Moses. But toward the end of the chapter, there’s a sudden shift. Instead of continuing to list victorious heroes, the author turns his attention to those who didn’t fare so well.
He speaks of faithful people who were rewarded with jeers and floggings, chains and imprisonment. He points to others who were stoned, sawed in two, or killed by the sword. He recalls those who spent the bulk of their life destitute, wandering in deserts, or living in caves.
Then he makes this shocking statement: “These were all commended for their faith, yet none of them received what had been promised.” In other words, their spiritual victory didn’t come in this lifetime. It was found in the next.1
There’s always a danger in studying a victorious saint like Daniel because we can jump to the conclusion that if we do what he did, we’ll get what he got.
But that may or may not be true.
As we saw earlier, all Scripture is given for reproof, correction, and instruction in righteousness. Daniel gives us a template for living in Babylon. But the book doesn’t come with a promise that we’ll have the same results.
We may emerge victorious like Abraham, Joseph, Moses, and Daniel. Or we may be persecuted, martyred, marginalized, and exiled like the unnamed but faithful saints listed at the end of Hebrews 11. The final outcome is up to God. It’s out of our hands.
Our job is not to win the battle. It’s to follow God’s battle plan.
There will be times when following God’s plan doesn’t seem to be working. But to those who have Daniel-like wisdom that begins with the fear of the Lord, that doesn’t matter. Even when God’s way seems to lead nowhere, it’s still the right path to take. He’s always right, even when we think he’s wrong. That’s why we call him God.
I like the way the writer of Proverbs put it.
Trust in the LORD with all your heart
and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways submit to him,
and he will make your paths straight.
Do not be wise in your own eyes.2
Winning or losing is not the right scorecard. Obedience is. When we do the right thing, we’re being faithful. Even if we get the wrong results.
Why Influence Is the Wrong Scorecard
Sometimes I hear preachers rip apart the American church because of our waning influence. Others implore us to get right with God because if we do he will pour out revival.
I wish it worked like that. But it doesn’t.
Our cultural influence has far more to do with who is in political power than whether or not the church is living up to its calling. And the times of unique visitation that we call revivals have far more to do with God’s sovereign grace than anything we do to produce it.
God draws straight lines with crooked sticks.
He always has.
It’s foolish to give credit to the stick.
The Church in Rome
We often look to the New Testament church as the model of spiritual maturity and power. But it took a few hundred years for the early church to spread its influence to the point of significant cultural impact. During most of those first three centuries it was a persecuted minority.
Don’t miss that. We tend to think in terms of twenty to seventy years. But history is played out in centuries, not decades. What we call failure might well be the foundation of what God calls success. And what we call success might not be so great when we see it in the rearview mirror.
Powerful but Unfaithful
For instance, consider the final conquest of the Roman Empire by the early church. On the outside it looked like everything was great. The church’s influence had finally reached a tipping point. Constantine decreed an end to the persecution of Christians and made Christianity the de facto religion of the empire.
At that point it looked like a great victory. But in hindsight, the ascent to political and cultural power was actually a great tragedy. It weakened the church. The more powerful it became, the more people joined in, not to follow Jesus, but to gain power and social acceptance. In other words, as the church grew more and more powerful, it became less and less faithful.
The Church in America
Much the same thing holds true in the history of the American church. The periods of our greatest influence were not necessarily the periods of our greatest faithfulness.
For instance, the glory days of Father Knows Best, family values, and stay-at-home moms weren’t all they were cracked up to be. Certainly the laws, cultural norms, and media of that day were more aligned with biblical values than today. But once again, as in Roman days, a powerful church is not always a faithful church. It draws people for the wrong reason.
Frankly, if those days were really a spiritual Camelot, someone needs to explain to me how they produced a generation of sex-crazed, free-love, dope-smoking hippies who grew up to be self-absorbed boomers.
Jesus and His Apostles
On the other hand, Jesus and his apostles had little cultural influence. Sure, Jesus drew huge crowds. But by the time he ascended into heaven, they had dwindled to 120 hiding out in an upper room.
As for the apostles, all of them except one died a martyr’s death. That’s hardly winning over the culture. Yet they were as faithful as they come.
Sometimes the culture responds to godly living and sometimes it doesn’t. It’s out of our hands. And that’s where Daniel comes in. He shows us how to live in Babylon whether we’re being promoted or imprisoned.
Standing in the Gap
In the meantime, never underestimate the potential influence that just one Daniel-like Christian can have. You might think you’re insignificant. But you aren’t. Your role is far more important than you may realize.
Sodom and Gomorrah would have been spared if there had been just ten righteous people living there. Moses held back God’s judgment on the Israelites when he stood in the breach pleading with God to spare them. One lone believer in a family can set apart the rest.3
Our God takes no pleasure in the death of the wicked. He’d much prefer they turn from their wicked ways and live. And as he told Ezekiel, he’s always looking for someone to stand in the gap and forestall his judgment. There’s no reason that can’t be you or me.4
The Power of One Small Light
Finally, never underestimate the power of the light you reflect. You might think it’s too dim to make a difference. It’s not.
I learned this lesson years ago on a family vacation.
Let me tell you the story.
To begin with, I need to tell you that my wife is claustrophobic. Not crazy claustrophobic—but you can see it from there. So I assumed that when we visited the Carlsbad Caverns, she would wait above ground in the gift shop and information center while the rest of us went below to take the tour.
To my surprise, when the gigantic elevator arrived to take us down to the caves, she decided to join us. When the doors opened, the cavern was so large and spacious that her fears melted away. She even decided to go on the tour with the rest of us.
As we waited in line to buy tickets, a group from a previous tour exited. One of them said, “I loved it when they turned out the lights!”
Oh no, I thought.
What do I do now?
Should I tell her?
Should I ignore it and create a family memory—then ask for forgiveness later?
As I pondered what to do, my moral dilemma was solved. Nancy had heard the remark. She turned to me and said, “Did he say they turn out the lights?”
“Yes,” I replied, “but it’s only for a few seconds.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Yes, I’m sure,” I said. “Trust me, I’m a pastor.”
So she did. Our entire family went on the tour. It was a great experience. Mostly. Right up until the end.
As the tour drew to a close, the guide told us to take a seat. He then began to explain the utter darkness that speleologists have to deal with. There’s no trace of light, so there’s nothing for their eyes to adjust to. It’s pitch black. You can wave something in front of your eyes and you won’t see a trace of it.
Then to prove his point, he reached down and unplugged the electrical cord that lit our pathway. Instantly we were plunged into total darkness. About five seconds later, I realized that his demonstration was going to last more than just “a few seconds.”
As I sat there feeling guilty, wondering how to best apologize to my wife, I suddenly felt a sharp pain followed by the sensation of blood dripping down my arm.
I’d been bitten by a bat.
Then the bat spoke.
It said, “I will never trust you again!”
I instantly tried to recall the name of every marriage counselor I knew. I figured I’d need one. Maybe even some career counseling as well, especially since the words divorce and pastor don’t fit together real well.
As Nancy hung on and squeezed my arm in panic, I remembered something. My oldest son was wearing a brand-new Timex Indiglo watch. It was one of the early models, so the light it produced was pathetic. If you pushed the button to see the time at night, you still had to get a flashlight to read what it said.
But at this point, his watch was my only hope. I told Nathan to push the button on his watch. He did. Instantly we could see the ground and our feet.
The bat let go.
My marriage was saved.
And I learned an important lesson.
Actually I learned two lessons. The first was to never trick my wife into participating in anything remotely claustrophobic. The second was that the darker it gets, the more powerful the tiniest of lights becomes.
My son’s pitiful Indiglo watch shone brightly in the utter darkness of a cave. Yet a person could hardly tell it was on when pressing the button under the evening stars.
It’s the same with us. The darker it gets, the brighter our tiny light shines.
Don’t buy the lie that you don’t matter. You do. Don’t buy the lie that your response to the evil in your workplace, community, family, and our nation doesn’t matter. It does.
We just have to push the right buttons. They’re called hope, humility, and wisdom.
It’s what Daniel did thousands of years ago.
It’s what God asks us to do today.
It’s how he thrived in his Babylon.
And it’s how we can thrive in our own modern-day Babylon.