risk
“And then the People of Israel were back at it again, doing what was evil in God’s sight. God put them under the domination of the Philistines for forty years.”
“Some time later he fell in love with a woman in the Valley of Sorek. Her name was Delilah.” (Judges 13:1; 16:4)
The story of Samson is one of the most fascinating in the Bible. Here was a time when the Israelites did evil in the sight of God, and were shackled by their enemy under God’s permission. Then here comes their saviour - a boorish, stubborn, lust-headed specimen of a man, who was also proud, boastful and easily led astray by women. And God anointed Him as Israel’s chosen one.
I love this story, because it seems to defy all logic. How could such an obviously flawed man be so central to God’s plans? How could someone be so blind to his true enemies, that he would allow his wife to let them in three times to emasculate him, yet not suspect a thing? And yet, in the midst of this story, you never get the sense God was disappointed or furious. It seems, even in the midst of chaos, in the midst of tragedy, our continuous mistakes, God was present.
The story doesn’t hold back on the power of rebelling against God’s agenda. When we do, continually, willfully, our enemies will dominate us. When we do, we will be that blind to infiltrations from the other camp, allow the Delilahs of this world to reduce us, con us, strip us of our strength as His. When we do, our eyes will be gouged, our vision that was previously compromised totally removed. So, I can’t cheat it. There are consequences to choosing a path that God hasn’t designed for us.
But yet, God is present. God is not stagnant. God works in mysterious ways. And it’s comforting to know even with my very obvious flaws, I’m not cast away. I am His.
But what’s my response? I know I will fail, again and again, pull away from holding the Father’s hand in search of my own gratification. I know I’ll let independence reign, and I hate it. I know I’ll forsake Him from time to time, because it looks like there are no consequences, even if there are, painful ones too.
I guess this is the risk of following Christ. We risk failure always, risk throwing our hands up in surrender, saying, “I can’t do this.” We risk depression, self-consciousness, guilt and shame. The path of Christ is narrow, and the ledge of faith an easy one to fall off.
But we risk it, because God is love. We risk it, because freedom is at hand. Because even in the risking, we are never alone, we are always led. And we are, most of all, defined as His children, His ones. And nothing can separate us from that.
Oh Father, how often we stray from you. Ours is a story of give and take, and you are so patient. Shower me with Your tender-mercies, I’m weak Lord. I’m so weak.
Father, speak Lord, when and as my enemies approach. Never let me forsake my strength in You. Lead me as I risk all to follow You.
Amen.
