“In those days also I saw the Jews who had married women of Ashdod, Ammon, and Moab. And half of their children spoke the language of Ashdod, and they could not speak the language of Judah…” (Neh. 13:23-24)

Ashdod is a very old city, dating back approx. 3,700 years. It was a city of the Philistines in Old Testament times and was a linchpin of some conflict between them and God’s people (cf. Jos. 11:22, 1 Sm. 5). But in the time of Nehemiah, as quoted above, the problem with Ashdod was not conflict; it was compromise.

In Nehemiah’s time, some of the people of God had intermarried (again) with the nations around them, and they had made so much room in their lives for the culture of their foreign wives’ people that some of their children had already lost an understanding of their native language—Hebrew—in a single generation. This is exactly the problem of intermarriage that Moses had warned them about generations before, and it represents another BIG step away from God and their rightful Israelite identity. The problem was that Israel was supposed to be the influence for good in the world, not be influenced for bad by the world.

There is an inherently and close-to-home danger that Christians can be warned about from this passage: namely, that covenant children—those being raised by Christian parents—aren’t being taught some things that should be our distinctive characteristics, just as the children of the tribe of Judah apparently weren’t being taught. I see trends that may seem small, but which indicate a move away from the “native language” of Christianity and toward only speaking “the language of Ashdod.” Some elements of Christian life that ought to be natural to us, but which are easily lost when they’re not deliberately taught. Things like:

• Bible knowledge—even the basics, like the order of the books—is increasingly hard to find among religious children, even in conservative groups like us.
• The importance of worship—that attendance at assemblies actually takes precedence over many other life events and situations.
• The practice of hospitality—that it’s not a burden, but a joy. That it’s not a pretentious show of self and wealth, but a humble gift that we can give to others. And that it’s a job for every believer, whether we have little or much in earthly goods.
• The gladness of fellowship—that our bonds in Christ are to be enjoyed, elevated, cherished, and seen by others as a sign of our devotion to Christ (cf. Jn. 13:35).
• The path of humility—the truth that no one should think of himself/herself as the most important people in the world; even our children. They should not be made to think that they are the most important person, even to us as their parents. Because God is the most important person. Period.
• The comfortable, warm, and rightly-fitting place of things like hymns, psalms, quoting scripture, bedtime prayers, and Bible reading in our home lives. These and others are things that ought to be the native language of Christian home life.

I worry that by neglecting things like these, we prime children for a time in their life when they recognize the native language of Christian living, but they don’t speak it. And more problematic than that: they don’t really care to learn it and regain what has been lost.

The problem between Israel and Ashdod wasn’t conflict; it was compromise. And we so often face the same problem. We are supposed to be the influence for good to the people around us; not be influenced for bad by them. And we are supposed to be the influences on our kids, not have them influenced by the people around us. If we’re letting them losing distinctive elements of God’s presence in their lives, then we’d better repent and redouble our efforts to draw them close to the heart of the father.

- Dan Lankford, minister

----------------------------------------

Author's Note: This post was inspired by my grandfather's sermon by the same title (he drew different applications than I did, but saw a good principle in the text; see his notes in inset picture). He preached for almost 7 decades, and passed away just this past week at the age of 90. I'm writing this (and likely more to come) in his honor.

Most Bible readers have heard often about the importance of context when reading and studying. For some believers, that means just a verse or a sentence before and after the specific thing we’re looking at. But often, the context of a particular passage includes a whole section of the book that it’s from.

That’s what we have with this week’s daily Bible readings. All week long, we’re following Israel’s journey from the Red Sea (which they crossed in ch. 14) to Mt. Sinai (where they’ll receive the Law, starting in ch. 20). I recently heard the Exodus simply outlined in three parts: the road out [of slavery], the road between [slavery and freedom], and the road up [to God’s promised rest]. We’re with them on ‘the road between’ right now.

As we said in this week’s Reader’s Guide, this is where Israel will begin to show their true colors… which aren’t pretty. They complain about God when they find places with no water (15:22-26, 17:1-7). And they disobey his simple instructions about manna, messing up in two ways: first, by trying to gather too much and hoard it for themselves (16:19-20), and second, by expecting to gather it on the day when he told them to rest (16:27-30). And if you know the rest of the wilderness story, then you know these events are only the beginning of their problems.

What was their core problem in these events? In all of those cases, they failed to trust that God would provide for them. They complained because they didn’t trust him to provide. They hoarded because they didn’t trust him to provide. They worked rather than rested because they didn’t trust him to provide.

Do we trust him to provide for us? What does our anxiety level reveal as the answer to that? What do our giving-versus-hoarding habits reveal as the answer to that? What do our work-versus-rest habits reveal as the answer to that? How are we doing at putting our full trust in our God while we live in this life—our very own ‘road between’ salvation and promised rest?

- Dan Lankford, minister

“Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak…” (James 1:19)

——————

Allow me to state something obvious: Some people are good at listening, and others just aren’t. That’s not to say that it’s an unchangeable destiny for either; it’s a skill that can be acquired. But I think we all recognize the varied skill levels when we encounter them.

Some people have a seemingly innate ability to stay engaged when someone is talking to them, to ignore potential distractions, and to truly focus on another person as they speak. They ask questions to show they’re thoughtfully connected. They care sincerely about the other person’s interests (cf. Phil. 2:4). They are slow to bring up their own opinions and interests. And they take the time to listen longer because they want to learn the person, not just to gather information. As a result, they tend to be a hub of deep conversations and close relationships. They possess an aura where powerful, personal, transformative conversations are had.

But for many, that’s just not our natural way. We quick-filter what we think is the relevant highlight of a conversation and then mentally rush ahead. We give follow-up statements rather than asking follow-up questions. We think about what we’ll say next instead of what the person has just said to us. We are quick to criticize or disagree, even before we’ve heard the fullness of the other person’s perspective. And we often miss out on appreciating who the other person is because we don’t really hear them. As a result, our relationships can remain at surface-level. People keep us at arm’s length because they feel that, rather than pulling them close to us by listening well, we have kept them at arm’s length.

Obviously, one of those behavior sets is much more like Jesus’. He always put more stock in individuals than in crowds, and he frequently took time to pause everything else and give his full attention to one person. Think about the afternoon that he spent with Zacchaeus (Lk. 19:10). What was it that made Zacchaeus receive the Lord joyfully (v. 6) and ultimately repent of his sins and turn to a life of generosity (v. 8)? In that story, Jesus paid attention to him. How does one person pay attention to another in that sort of life-changing way? By being “quick to hear” and “slow to speak.”

So here’s some practical advice for all of us to grow in this skill: When someone talks to you, ignore distractions and focus on them and what they’re saying. Ask questions about what they think, what motivates them, and what’s important to them. Listen to their answers when you ask questions—to the information, the tone, and the approach they take. Listen to ideas and beliefs that are different than your own, and don’t always feel the need to correct them right away—often, it can wait. Listen to the person’s heart behind what they say, and learn to see both their good and their flaws with wisdom.

Being heard is often much more important to a relationship than being taught, advised, or even encouraged. Often, the most compassionate and authentic thing we can do is listen skillfully. People who are “quick to hear, slow to speak” are living out the wisdom of God in their relationships, and that sort of behavior always leads us into his good blessings.

- Dan Lankford, minister

The following article is by my new friend, David King. Brother King is an elder in Wichita, KS, at the same church where he preached for over four decades. I share this writing becasue it follows up so well on my sermon from this past Sunday — "The Ten Commandments; YHWH and No Others."

———————————————————

“You shall have no other gods before me.” (Ex. 20:3).

“They forsook the Lord God of their fathers, who had brought them out of the land of Egypt; and they followed other gods from among the gods of the people who were all around them, and they bowed down to them; and they provoked the Lord to anger.” (Judg. 2:12).

“You have forsaken Me and served other gods. Therefore, I will deliver you no more.” (Judg. 10:13).

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Of all the attributes of the Biblical God, the one that gets the most attention among skeptics is His anger over people going after other gods. Repeatedly, the Lord calls Himself “a jealous God” who threatens grave consequences if people do not give Him their full allegiance (Ex. 20:5; Deut. 4:24; Josh. 24:19; etc.). Atheist Richard Dawkins notes that “God’s monumental rage whenever his chosen people flirted with a rival god resembles nothing so much as sexual jealousy of the worst kind” (The God Delusion, p. 243). Surely God must have quite a self-confidence problem if He’s that sensitive to people getting involved with the competition. How can such a God be worthy of our respect?

This view of God and His jealous anger trivializes the nature of humanity and our relationship to Him. Regardless of what we may think of the Biblical God, we must acknowledge that everyone of us has a god of some kind in our lives. A “god” is simply an object, an ideal, or a passion that holds ultimate sway over our affections. Our god is that for which we will sacrifice everything else in our lives. In more primitive times, the gods were idols made of stone or wood or precious metals. Today, the gods come in the form of money, power, investments, careers, sex, hobbies, social causes, family, friends, drugs, education, sports, houses, electronic devices, and a thousand other worldly pursuits. None of these things are inherently evil in themselves; but when they become the locus of our existence—the thing that, if lost, we lose all reason for living—then they have become our god. We are then in bondage to whatever demands these gods make upon our life.

Therein lies the danger that these false gods pose to our well-being. They were never designed to fulfill the innermost desires of our heart and will always come up short in satisfying those desires. They are fragile and untrustworthy, and sooner or later will fail us. When they do, we will be left facing life alone and helpless.

The God of the Bible, on the other hand—the timeless, spaceless, immaterial Being who has created all things and sustains all things by His infinite power—is not bound by these limitations. He demands our allegiance, not to assuage some insecurity on His part, but because we need the benefits that only He can provide. He made us for a higher purpose than the false gods can address, and we can find that purpose only in a close relationship with Him.

So, when we forsake God for other gods, He will not punish us arbitrarily. He respects our free will and allows us to experience the natural consequences of our decisions. As with ancient Israel, He will “deliver you no more,” leaving us to struggle with the wreckage we have created by chasing our idols. God is angry at our rebellion, yes; but He is also grieved at the foolishness of those who had every reason to know better.

- David King, elder/pastor/shepherd of Pleasant Plains Church of Christ in Wichita, KS

In epic narratives, the focus of events and character development understandably falls mostly on a few key figures. But the secondary characters are often important, impressive characters in their own right. Characters like Nestor (the Iliad and the Odyssey), Sydney Carton (A Tale of Two Cities), and Commodore Norrington (Pirates of the Caribbean) are often really interesting in their own right, if we take the time to fully notice what their experience is like.

The Bible features quite a few people who show up in its accounts in similar kinds of “secondary” ways. And one of my favorites is Moses’ father-in-law, Jethro.

Jethro is one of those God-fearing non-Israelites that we occasionally meet in the Bible. He stands alongside Melchizedek, Cornelius, and the magi who visited baby Jesus. And yet, Jethro is unique because of the life and leadership influence that he had on Moses—the prophet who led Israel to salvation and a new identity in God.

Jethro is described as “the priest of Midian,” which might be a bit vague, but could be meant to say that he was a priest of God similar to Melchizedek (Gn. 14:18). He is first introduced to us by the name Reuel (Ex. 2:18), which means “friend of God.” He was the figure who gave Moses a home and a family after he left Egypt (Exodus 2:18-21). Moses turned to him for a blessing when he went to Egypt to do God’s will (Ex. 4:18), and, as Hebrews 7:7 says, “It is beyond dispute that the inferior is blessed by the superior,” which shows Moses’ standing with his father-in-law. Maybe it’s no surprise, then, that when we next see him, we’re told that he blessed YHWH (Ex. 18:10ff) and he was welcomed into the fellowship of Moses, Aaron, and the elders of the Israelites (Ex. 18:10-12). And then, when Israel had come out of Egypt, Jethro visited them and brought such wisdom that the people’s entire system of governance and justice was changed based on his advice (Ex. 18:10-27).

Who was this man, Jethro? He appears to have been a man of character, generosity, wisdom, and faith in God. Was he of the lineage of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob? No. Yet he appears to have been a God-fearer. And through him, God’s people were blessed with deliverance and truth.

I think we ought to be thankful for Jethro’s presence in the story, even as a “secondary” character. The Spirit never gives a word of negative commentary on him, and he is a strong supporter of Moses at key points in the long account of Israel’s deliverance from Egypt. He, along with several other God-fearing non-Israelites, show us that God’s favor is not determined by birthright, but rather, as the Scripture says, “the righteous shall live by faith” (Hb. 2:4, Rm. 1:17).

- Dan Lankford, minister

Last Wednesday night, just about the same time that we were starting our midweek Bible study, an American Airlines jet collided in midair with an Army helicopter right in the middle of Washington, DC. Both vehicles burst into flame and went down into the Potomac River. News outlets and officials were fairly certain by the next morning that no one had survived the crash, and since then, that has been confirmed. Sixty-four passengers and crew from the plane and the three soldiers from the helicopter were all killed.

And then, just two days later, another plane—this one an air ambulance that was transporting patients out of Philadelphia—crashed nose-down into a Philly neighborhood. Seven people were killed either by the crash from injuries received from it. The plane was in the air less than one minute before it met its end, and again, there were no survivors.

Tragedies like these tend to generate ripples of worries that spread far beyond the scope of the incident. We worry that these incident indicate that the entire air travel system is broken or becoming dangerous. We worry that something malicious was done to bring down any or all of the aircraft. We worry that its happening in D.C. might indicate some sort of national-level attack. All of these concerns, and more besides, were heard repeatedly in the news coverage last week. And so, again, the ripples of worry about something like this tend to spread beyond the incident itself.

Here are three reminders to help us be wise about events like these:

First: That tragedies are an inescapable part of life. It’s a reality that we should accept. In fact, airplane incidents happen more regularly than we probably realize—some with fatalities and some without. You might remember Captain Sullenberger’s emergency landing in the Hudson River in 2009, or the door blowing off the Alaska Airlines jet in March of last year, or the Baltimore bridge that collapsed that same month. All of these just remind us that life simply doesn’t guarantee us perfect safety. And this has always been the case (cf. Lk. 13:4). That’s why our hope for ultimate safety isn’t in this life. It’s with God, in eternity.

Second: While tragedy is a reality that we will face often in life, we can’t allow ourselves to become desensitized to it. We must still allow ourselves to mourn the loss of life every time we see it. We mourn the deaths of some 70 people who died suddenly, praying that God will take their souls into his care and that they knew Jesus, by whom they may find rest. As the scripture says, “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care” (Mt. 10:29, NIV). If God cares about the deaths of all of his creatures, then we must especially be willing to join him in caring about these people’s deaths.

Third: That while many things in life are increasingly predictably safe (these were the first 2 jet crashes in the U.S. since 2009), nothing is guaranteed. So let’s just take a reminder to be ready for our time to meet the Lord at all times, “because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him” (Mt. 24:44).

We continue to live in this world, but our hope, as always, must be anchored behind the veil in the presence of a God who is both almighty and thoroughly good.

 - Dan Lankford, minister

“Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound.” (Phil. 4:11-12)

When you receive money—a gift, a paycheck, or some kind of support—what’s the first thought that goes through your head? As believers, I really believe that our first thought ought to be a prayer: “God, thank you for this gift.” As Paul was grateful for the support he received from the Christians in Philippi, we ought to be grateful for the providence of God in our lives, at whatever level of wealth he provides. Like Paul, we learn to be content with God himself first, and then we will naturally be content with whatever blessings he provides.

So here’s today’s challenge question: When you receive money, is your first thought, “I hope this is enough” or “What’s if this isn’t enough?” Or… Is it, “God, thank you for graciously providing for me/us”?

I hope that more and more of us are able to learn true contentment, whether we have little or much, and whether we live on little or much. In any and every case, the secret to contentment is to be content with God himself first. And once we’ve got that figured out, the rest of contentment will take care of itself.

- Dan Lankford, minister

On Monday, our country witnessed the peaceful transfer of power from one commander in chief to another. Was that transfer of power awkward? Yes, at times. If you watched the inauguration, then you surely felt that. But we can live with awkwardness when we have the gift of peace, and Monday’s ceremony was peaceful—a fact for which we ought to be grateful to God.

Our new presiding citizen spoke openly about some of the large-scale challenges that this country faces and about his intentions to change the prevailing direction set by some past administrations’ ideologies. Most presidents make similar statements in their inaugural addresses, and almost all of them deliver on some of their ambitions while failing to deliver on others. They each want to see an America that fits their understanding of what is best and right in this world, and so, with the considerable power which we the people have granted them, they set about making that happen.

To some people, these transfers of power and ideological shifts feel like they rock the very foundations of reality. Some people believe that the success or failure of everything rides on decisions made in the world’s highest offices. But Christians aren’t thrown off balance by these things. We serve the one who truly holds THE highest office, who sits on the throne above all thrones. And he is unchanging. He is immutable. He is all-powerful. And he is perfect.

And along with that, Jesus taught us that it’s not the world’s most powerful people who shape and re-shape the foundations of the world. He said that the people who do that sort of thing are poor in spirit. They mourn. They are meek. They hunger and thirst for righteousness. They are merciful. They are peacemakers at home and in their communities. And they are almost always persecuted for their efforts. Those people are the salt of the earth and the light of the world—the real agents of righteous transformation (cf. Mt. 5:1-16).

So whether you are more inclined to be excited or disheartened by Monday’s change in the presidency, I hope that you find a peace that passes understanding in the ongoing knowledge of who truly rules in the kingdoms of men (cf. Dn. 4:17, 25, 32). And I hope we can all grasp the truth that when the Holy Spirit is at work in us, we have more power to change the world than anyone who holds a high political office. Because we have, on our side, the divine power to destroy strongholds and arguments and lofty opinions until every thought is taken captive to obey Christ (2 Cr. 10:3-5).

- Dan Lankford, minister

“Mountains, especially Mt. Horeb, or Sinai as it is also known in the Old Testament, figure largely in the spiritual history of Moses. Horeb makes its first appearance in the story here [in Exodus 3] as the mountain of new beginnings, and in chapters 19 to 34 it is the mountain of revelation… Beyond Horeb lies Mt. Pisgah, which could be called Moses’ mountain of disappointment, as it was there that he viewed the land he had been forbidden to enter (Deut. 34:1). Then, in the distant future, there is the place of Jesus’ transfiguration, Moses’ mountain of homecoming (Mt. 17:1-3).”  [Alec Motyer, Commentary on Exodus, p. 34]

Mountains figure prominently in the grand narrative of the Bible, for Moses and for us. For Moses, three mountains trace the beginning, end, and even eternal continuation of his life. For us, the Bible’s significant mountains are Sinai—the mountain from which God established his law for Israel, Jerusalem—the mountain from on which our salvation was provided by Jesus, and the heavenly Zion—the new Jerusalem in which God dwells directly with his people (Rev. 21-22).

These mountains remind us of a powerful truth: That even though Moses knew God in a way no one else has (cf. Ex. 33:1), Moses was among those who longed for the relationship with God that we can have—the perfected relationship of salvation through Jesus. And some day, because Jesus laid down his life for us, we will stand side by side with Moses, face to face with our Father for all eternity.

- Dan Lankford, minister

New Year’s resolutions are typically about making improvements in our lives: correcting some of more benign bad habits and improving upon the lifestyle habits that we already have. We start from a belief that we’re doing okay as things are, and we just want to make some improvements. And for spiritual people, it’s the same: we tend to start from a position a belief that we’re doing pretty well on December 31, and we just want to make some improvements on January 1.

But maybe for some of us, the New Year ought to be a time to take a good, hard look into our lives and fully repent of some sins. That’s not exactly on par with making small improvements. That’s a matter of faithfulness and obedience to God.

Repentance is what the apostles often called for in their letters to our first-century brothers and sisters. When Paul called out the many sinful habits in the Corinthian church, it was not just to make them sad, but to make them actually change their behaviors. When John confronted the churches in Asia Minor, he said simply and forcefully, “Repent.” And when Peter talked about why God’s final judgment hadn’t come yet, he said that it was because God was patiently giving all people the chance to repent.

And, perhaps more important than any of those was the first message that our Lord himself preached: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” (Mt. 4:17)

So…

• Have you habitually sinned against your family—against your spouse, your parents, or your kids? Then make 2025 a time to repent of it and change it.
• How about against your employer? Then make 2025 a time to repent of it and change it.
• How about against your church family? Then make 2025 a time to repent of it and change it.
• How about against those outside of Christ? Then make 2025 a time to repent of it and change it.
• And how about against God himself , most of all (cf. Psa. 51:4)? Then make 2025 a time to repent of it, confess it, and change it.

Will that be difficult? Yes. If we’re honest about our lives, or if we take it a step further and allow someone else to give an honest assessment of our lives… we’ll hear things that are difficult to hear. And so the question is not so much about what can I improve for this year as it is about what I must fix this year. Am I willing to do the hard work of self-examination, confession, and repentance so that I can serve God truly?

- Dan Lankford, minister