Joshua 24:1-2, 14-18
Ephesians 6:10-20
Anyone know what Charlie Sheen is up to these days? Some years ago, you might recall, he had a spectacularly public breakdown. Although, not if you asked him. If you asked Charlie he would have said, “Winning!” because that became his mantra.
When asked about his diagnosis of bipolar disorder, he said, “Not bipolar. It’s bi-winning! Winning here, winning there…” His conversations were colored with staccato bursts of “winning!” It appeared to be a kind of game – a mind game, where the object is saying it enough times in the hope that will make it true, talking oneself into believing it despite the clear reality. Winning!
He started something, didn’t he?
Winning is big. Winning is huge. #winning. Winning at life. Winning so much we get bored with winning. So. Much. Winning.
It might get boring, but it has to be about winning, because this is a zero-sum game – if you’re not winning you’re losing. And who wants to be a loser?
No one wants to be a loser. I don’t. I like winning. I like winners.
Most people do. Winning at games, winning at politics, winning at business, winning at friendship – winning at friendship? Yes, when life is a zero-sum game, there are winners and losers in everything.
The people of Israel were just like everybody. They liked winning. On this fine day when they stood before the threshold of the Promised Land. After 40 years in the wilderness, homeless, property-less, they were finally on the verge of winning.
And their leader, Joshua stood up before them and reminded them of all the trials they had faced, of all that they had overcome, and of the great opportunity that lay before them now, so close they could almost taste the milk and honey. And he offered them these words: Choose this day whom you will serve. Whether it be the gods your ancestors served back in the land they came from, or the gods these other people serve in the region we are in now. Choose. As for me and my household, Joshua declared, we will serve the Lord.
And the people all cried out in answer, Yes, yes, we too will serve the Lord. He has done great things, he has brought us through the wilderness, he has protected us and he has brought us to this place where we are winners. We are winning. We will serve the God of winning.
Perhaps they didn’t say it quite that way. But I imagine they felt like the Bad News Bears when they turn their losing streak around, the Hoosiers when they win the championship game, Rudy when the coach finally puts him into the game and he makes the winning play for Notre Dame, Rocky Balboa when he beats Apollo Creed. Winning.
They liked the feeling of winning as much as we like the feeling of winning. And they said yes, we will serve the Lord who has brought us so far. We will remember his deeds, his faithfulness to us. We will.
But then they didn’t – not always. The promise they made was at times forgotten. Because life got complicated, offering too many options – in this new land they took there were the remnants of other gods and forms of worship, interesting things they had not seen before, perhaps. Opportunities to hedge their bets. You know, if the Lord doesn’t seem to be helping you quite as much as you want, you can try this other god over here – what can it hurt?
Have you ever said that – what can it hurt?
And these temptations, these other gods, come in all forms, we’re not just talking about stone figures. There are endless forms of idols that offer us opportunities to be winners. They seem harmless; they usually appear as something good. These “spiritual forces of evil,” as the letter to Ephesians phrases it, look like winning. And winning feels so good, it just makes you feel like you ought to keep on winning and winning and winning – at any cost.
The struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, the letter says, but against the cosmic powers of this present darkness. It is no wonder we get confused.
But we reach for the armor to fight the battle, to keep on winning. Breastplate, the shield, the helmet to protect us from losing, to keep us fighting another day. Suit up! Game on!
The problem is we forget what battle we are fighting. We forget what winning is and what losing is. We forget what kind of armor we really need.
It’s the risk of living in this world – as the letter says, “this present darkness” – that we can become habituated to just about anything. We can become so well adjusted to the darkness it seems like light. and when confronted with dishonesty and theft, say things like, “anybody would have done the same.”
And because anybody would have done it, we will excuse it, overlook it. We might even draw the conclusion that we, too, need to do it – cheat and lie and steal, because it looks like the kind of armor we will need to survive. To thrive. To win.
Then when we stand up before Joshua, full of enthusiasm, and say, “Far be it that we should forsake the Lord to serve other gods … we also will serve the Lord, for he is our God” how truthful is our proclamation?
I remember a church I did some preaching at years ago. The church was about 40 years old, and had been about the same size for those 40 years. Then suddenly they started to get an influx of people. A couple would come visit, express an interest in joining the church. Another couple would come. In a period of a few months they received about 25 new members. They were all coming from the same place. The Methodist church in town had a new pastor and things were not going well. People were leaving the church and going across town to the Presbyterian Church. And the Presbyterian congregation was overjoyed. Winning!
This is what happens when it becomes a zero-sum game. Sheep-stealing feels like winning.
I met a new-church pastor last week, and he told me that when someone comes to them from another church, feeling wounded by that other church, they send them back. They encourage them to reconcile; so far as they are able, to make peace; to not spread ill-will by their actions, but to seek the good of all. Because we are interconnected; our loss is their loss and our gain is their gain. This is not zero-sum. It’s either win-win or lose-lose.
The truth, which we might forget, is that we are the church wherever we go and whoever we are with. To take satisfaction in our neighbor’s loss, even if everybody else is doing it, is to become alienated from the way of Christ. The words of our Confession of 1967 affirm that the church is both gathered and dispersed to do the will of God. And as the church is dispersed, “the quality of their relations with other persons is the measure of the church’s fidelity.”
Winning. This is winning. Not just what we do in here and with one another, but the quality of our relations with others wherever we go.
So we must suit up with the armor of God. Not to be confused with steel and iron outfits that allow us to make war on each other. I am always a little bit bothered by this imagery of armor. Ever since the time I went to a birthday party where the child was given a “whole armor of God” playsuit. So this child could have play dates with his Christian friends and they could put on their whole armor of God suits and beat up on each other. The message seems to get lost in the application.
The truth is this: there is no way to win when we lose the ability to distinguish the dark from the light. There is no human-made armor that can protect us from the weapons that will pierce our hearts and destroy our souls. There will always be a better weapon to match and beat our armor and shields and helmets.
True winning is putting on the armor of God, clothing ourselves in truth and righteousness, faith and peace; taking these with us out into the world; seeking reconciliation with all God’s children. In this way we draw ourselves closer to God.
So, suit up. March on in the light of God.
