March 9, 2026 - Judges 1-2

“When Joshua dismissed the people, the people of Israel went each to his inheritance to take possession of the land.  And the people served the LORD all the days of Joshua, and all the days of the elders who outlived Joshua, who had seen all the great work that the LORD had done for Israel.  And Joshua the son of Nun, the servant of the LORD, died at the age of 110 years. . . .  And all that generation also were gathered to their fathers. And there arose another generation after them who did not know the LORD or the work that he had done for Israel” (2:6-10).  Furthermore, “They abandoned the LORD and served the Baals and the Ashtaroth” (2:13).

A really mixed bag of results, here.  I know I am getting very allegorical here, and I know that the intent of these stories is not to illustrate our present lives and the challenges we face.  On the other hand, when I read these chapters, and I see the ebb and flow of all this history, and the changing behavior of Israel from loyalty and obedience to rebellion and sin and back to obedience (seemingly, a never ending cycle in the book of Judges), we cannot help but think of our own lives.

We do love the Lord.  We do love his Word.  We do desire to do his will, and we strive after obedience.  But we find that our personal records are so mixed.  Sometimes faithful, sometimes not.  Sometimes content, sometimes not.  It is so easy to say of Israel that she should have done better.  But we have to say the same about ourselves.  When we reflect on the behavior of Israel, and when we look at our own lives, we grow more and more appreciative of the grace of the Lord.  I know that I find myself, more and more, loving my Savior who suffered so much and died for me.  My hope is based on nothing else but Jesus’ blood and righteousness.

My hope is built on nothing less

than Jesus’ blood and righteousness;

I dare not trust the sweetest frame,

but wholly lean on Jesus' name.

On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand:

all other ground is sinking sand;

all other ground is sinking sand.

His oath, his covenant, his blood,

support me in the whelming flood;

when all around my soul gives way,

he then is all my hope and stay.   -- Edward Mote (1834)