This Spells Trouble
This Spells Trouble
Joshua 7:26 And they raised over him a great heap of stones that remains to this day. … Therefore, to this day the name of that place is called the Valley of Achor.
The final word of Joshua 7, ‘Achor,’ means trouble, and I’m tempted to just write that word at the top of this page all by itself, surrounded by the blankness and emptiness and unfulfilled potential that symbolizes sin’s inevitable consequence, because perhaps the moment of awkward silence and somber reflection that would ensue might resonate far better than my words can. Like seeing a heap of stones on a beautiful landscape and being reminded of what could’ve been, of lives lost in battle that could’ve come back home triumphant, of a dark, demoralizing D-day on a calendar that should’ve been a July 4th-type celebration, of wives deprived of husbands and children deprived of fathers and of lush, fertile valleys now barren.
Take Joshua 7 as a reminder that while we as forgiven, redeemed sinners should never revel in our past sins or herald them or glorify them to others, we also shouldn’t forget them. Those stones of our own rebellion littered across the landscape of our lives of faith are covered in the blood of the Lamb, yes! But we should never overlook the trouble we’ve brought to our world by means of them. Our focus is on God’s grace, of course! Our hope is in His ability to redeem what we’ve dismantled and demolished by our compromises, trusting that He continues to build His untarnished church through the valleys of our Achors, erecting a lasting kingdom from the rubble of our rebellions; yet, we should do so while sharing the contrite perspective of Paul who said, “I am the chief of sinners.” Just look at your Savior’s hands and feet if you’ve forgotten the wounds! Touch His spear-pierced side! How can we rejoice in so great a salvation if we’ve erased the monuments that memorialize it?
We as Christians are good at either making too much of our Achors to the point that we revel in our ‘past,’ or too little of them, to the point where we cover them over. I suggest we let them remain what they are: symbols of our Lord’s deep and profound mercy, and warnings of the lingering consequences that sin brings.