Crash the Chatterbox: Hearing God's Voice Above All Others (14 page)

This conclusion might seem jarring to you. It does to me. After all, this isn’t the sentencing of Bernie Madoff. The servant did nothing wrong, technically. And the master’s punishment seems to reinforce the very fear that caused the servant to hold back to begin with.

I was right. This proves it. The master had it in for me all along. Now I
really
know he’s a hard man! That’s exactly why I was afraid
.

But perhaps this man’s perception has become his reality. And in light of the rest of Scripture, we can conclude that this perception of God is grounded, not in truth, but in lies.

What the master had really hoped to be able to say to this man was the same thing he said to the other two stewards: “Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness!”
⁶

But the fear that stood at the door of the man’s mind wouldn’t allow him to enter into the joy of the master. And now he is losing it all. Not because the master wanted to take it away, but because the servant forfeited it through fear.

He listened to the wrong voice.

What are you forfeiting in your life—
right now
—because of the force of fear pushing against your faith? Because you’re listening to the wrong voice?

What intimacy are you avoiding because of the fear of vulnerability or exposure?

What growth is being stunted because you won’t embrace a discipline for fear of the sacrifice it will require?

What are you supposed to be modeling for your kids that they can’t see and won’t be able to experience, because you won’t trust God in a particular area of your life?

What healing are you unable to partake of because you fear that confessing your struggle will cause you to lose your standing with people you admire?

You can’t get stuck on the question
What if I do obey God and it costs me greatly?
That song will start skipping like a vinyl record, and you’ll bob along, never attempting anything of significance for God. Fear will lock you up and swallow the key and then swallow you too as a chaser.

Instead, flip the record to the other side and ask,
What if I
don’t
obey God?

The joy of my Master is calling, and I fear the possibility of missing out on it much more than I fear whatever discomfort or uncertainty awaits on the other side.

And I’m not talking about adventure for adventure’s sake. This is not about going skydiving or Rocky Mountain climbing.

We’re talking about obeying the God who invites His servants to share in His mission and His happiness.

The harsh realities of failure that fear projects in our minds can seem insurmountable. But Jesus projects an image of our relationship to God that is very different from the one the chatterbox has been describing to you all your life.

In fact, Jesus said that He would no longer call us servants but
friends
.
⁷

And we know His words aren’t empty, because His love was proved true by His sacrifice.

In other words, the worst what-if in human history has already happened. The Master’s perfect Servant was hung on a tree and then buried in the earth for three days. Jesus went to the bottom. He descended to the depths, suffering the consequences of all our failures and the culmination of all our fears.

For three days, the deepest fears of all those who had hoped in the Messiah were seemingly confirmed.

What if
they sentence Him to die?
What if
this does not end in victory?
What if
the One we’ve given everything to follow is taken away?

It all happened.

But, as you know, the tomb was borrowed. Jesus emerged from the darkness of the bottom, rising in perfect love, standing in total victory, casting out all fear for all time.

Because Jesus has ascended to the right hand of the Father, we no longer have a spirit of fear. But through our faith in Him, we have been given power, love, and a sound mind.
⁸

And because the same Spirit who raised Jesus from the dead lives within you and me, we must refuse to bury our hope in shallow graves of fear.

We stand firm—even at the bottom—in our belief:

God says He will.

And since He already has …

I know He always will.

Because the voice of fear is so difficult to isolate, let alone eliminate, many of us assume we have no choice but to surrender to it. But recently I unearthed a scriptural dynamic that has rewired the way I process that voice. As a result, I’m learning how to reverse its effects.

This dynamic is hidden in one of the strangest sequences in all the Old Testament. Let’s see if you find it as bizarre as I do.

Normal enough on the surface, I know. Man is terrified. Man flees.

Consider the context, though. Elijah is a prophet and not just any prophet. He’s the kind of prophet who has the power to call forth a full-fledged drought at God’s command. And when he does so, be assured it will not rain again until he
says so
. I don’t care who you are, when God uses your words to turn the rain supply of heaven off and on like the knob that controls a Delta showerhead, that’s impressive.

In this particular instance the Scripture records that, due to Israel’s collective wickedness, God withholds the rain in their land for three and a half years. During those years of famine and drought, God provides for Elijah miraculously, showing him the precise location of secret streams of water and literally dispatching birds to bring him food—a little program I like to call Meals On
Wings. Furthermore, at the end of the drought, God vindicates Elijah spectacularly—in a remarkable setting.

Covered with dense vegetation, and long disputed between the Israelites and the Phoenicians, Mount Carmel is the perfect venue for this showdown. The premise is simple. All the prophets of Baal—the god who is supposed to be in charge of fertility—will call on him as well as all the other gods in the Canaanite roster who supposedly control agricultural outcomes. Elijah’s assignment is much more streamlined—only one God to call on, no supporting cast necessary.

And here’s the agreement: The gods—or God—who will send fire from heaven to consume the designated sacrifice will be recognized and acknowledged as all-powerful. The prophets representing the losing deity will be publicly executed. These are reasonably high stakes.

A bull is arranged on the altar, the nation of Israel is assembled outside the octagon, and UFC BC is under way.

After a full day of ritual theatrics by Baal’s prophets and no active response from Big Daddy Baal (BDB) himself, the crowd is hissing and booing. In a slow shuffle they migrate to Elijah’s side. They aren’t yet convinced of Yahweh’s power, or even convicted of their sin, but they are desperate for rain. And this man is the one whose words are rumored to have set off this drought in the first place. Perhaps the fugitive preacher isn’t mentally ill after all. Perhaps God will prove His presence by validating this prophet, and cumulonimbus clouds will fill the skies once again.

Elijah mounts the podium, the capacity crowd falls silent, and Scripture records the result.

What better outcome could Elijah hope for? The bad guys are dead. The Israelites are on their faces, giving glory to God. And the drought is effectively over. Just five verses later, following Elijah’s prophetic command, the bottom falls out of the skies that have been waterless for more than three years.

How will Elijah celebrate this incredible victory? Will he be popping bottles at the after party? Regaling his understudies with the director’s commentary on what was going through his mind on Mount Carmel? Negotiating royalty rates on the sequel with Universal?

That’s what you’d expect. But a few verses later, we see what he does instead.

He’s running for his life … in
fear
.

Fear of what? What could possibly intimidate a man of God of this caliber, especially one who has just experienced miracles of this scale? The answer might surprise you.

A single threat from the mouth of one woman.

Read it for yourself:

Under normal circumstances Elijah’s cowering as a result of Jezebel’s tirade would be understandable. As the queen of Israel, this woman had a barbaric
reputation for not only exterminating God’s true prophets but also exacting torturous revenge on anyone who upset the balance of her kingdom.

But these aren’t normal circumstances. And Elijah, as we’ve seen, is not your average prophet.

Now do you see why that simple phrase “Elijah was afraid” is so problematic for me? The same Elijah who was mocking and ridiculing and shaming the false prophets just verses before is abandoning his post and fleeing his mission field.

I’d like to think that if I’d just seen God deliver the kind of beat-down Elijah had witnessed, my response would be a little different.

Well now, Jezebel. Didn’t you hear what your husband just told you? “What part of “Elijah killed every single one of your fake prophets” didn’t you understand? Check your Instagram. Surely your time line is full of pictures of how I carved them to pieces in the valley, just like I cut up the bulls on the altar. You know—the altar that
my God
consumed with fire? I guess you want a piece too? I wish you
would
threaten me …

But fear is neither linear nor logical. At the first sign of unforeseen opposition, our pose and composure can come undone. As my dad was fond of saying, “Not even the US Army can beat an ambush.” No one is exempt from surprise bouts of terror, not even a world-champion prophet like Elijah.

What do you do when your greatest accomplishments lead you straight down the path of an even greater fear? Instead of summoning his faith and standing firm to see the deliverance of his God, Elijah retreats. And in his escape from his geographical surroundings, he begins to back down from the boldness that has characterized his whole ministry up to this point.

Now I’m confused. Verse 3 says he was running for his life. Yet verse 4 says he asked God to kill him.

Which one is it? Are you looking for life support, Elijah? Or shall God send the angels of euthanasia? One of these things is not like the other.

The more I studied this text, though, and considered the context of Elijah’s despair and compared it to similar feelings I’ve experienced under much less duress, the more I got it.

Although the text says Elijah ran for his life—and I’m sure that’s how it appeared—it seems like something deeper is going on. In fact, I’m not sure Elijah was running for his life at all, at least not in the sense we would use that phrase. I believe Elijah was actually running
from
his life.