Ratified
"And the covenant which I have made on earth, let it be ratified in heaven."
When they were small, my kids were forever making plans for themselves. By themselves or with their friends, they would plan this get-together or this play date (today my daughter would be embarrassed to think she ever arranged "play dates") and then they would inform Cathy and I. The problem was, as you might guess, they had no power to enact their plans on their own. Neither they nor their friends could drive, or could pay for food or anything. They had no power, just plans. (It's a bit different now. They still make plans, but they need us less to enact them.)
What their plans lacked was ratification. They needed a higher authority (mom and dad) to help make their plans a reality. One of the things that frustrates politicians and diplomats and activists is the need for ratification. Plans can be made and treaties drawn up, but in our (and others' ) system of government, there is a need for a "higher authority" to ratify said plans or treaties. The approval and enforcement must come from a higher authority.
So does it seem strange, then, to find this word near the end of this prayer? We like to think we have made all the decisions necessary up to this point. Doing, suffering, employed, laid aside, and anything else that seems to be important. We've already prayed that! We've agreed to it. Why, then, do we come to this point in the prayer and ask for ratification from heaven?
It's because we're powerless to do what we have said we will do. We've proved that from the beginning of time. No one has said it clearer than Joshua. Near the end of the book that bears his name, Joshua is preparing to basically lay down his leadership role and send the people to their new home, the land that is their inheritance. He lays out the conditions of the covenant before them, and then makes this famous challenge: "Choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your ancestors served beyond the Euphrates, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you are living. But as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord" (Joshua 24:15). And when the people respond that they, too, want to serve the Lord, Joshua doesn't high-five them or offer a congratulatory speech. What he said next must have surprised everyone there: "You are not able to serve the Lord. He is a holy God; he is a jealous God. He will not forgive your rebellion and your sins. If you forsake the Lord and serve foreign gods, he will turn and bring disaster on you and make an end of you, after he has been good to you" (24:19-20).
Can you imagine how you would react if you had been standing there that day? What do you mean I'm not able to serve the Lord? I just said I would, so I will! But, the sad truth is that Joshua is right. And even though the people were determined that day, their history would bear out their inability to serve God when they tried on their own strength and on their own terms. This covenant they were making needed ratification. It needed involvement from a higher authority, and for that to happen, the people were going to have to get rid of everything that got in the way of a full relationship with the Lord.
After they toss out their idols, Joshua points to a stone that he says will be a witness of their covenant. There was no magic in the stone, but that stone would be there for a long time. And every time they saw the stone, they would be reminded of what they had promised on this day. The stone would be, in effect, God's reminder, God's ratification of their hopes and dreams.
When we come near the end of this covenant prayer, we're asking God to ratify our plans and giving him permission to remind us of the "terms" of the covenant we agreed to. We need a higher authority to confirm our plans and help us live it out. What, then, is your daily reminder of your covenant?
For me, there are many. My daily time in the Scriptures reminds me that I live under the authority of God's word. My ordination certificate hanging on the wall of my office reminds me that I have a calling from God. The Bible I have that was carried by my grandfather into the Army is a reminder of the "great cloud of witnesses" that cheers me on (see Hebrews 12:1). And weekly worship reminds me that I am not all there is; there is a higher authority than just me. What is your stone of remembrance? What reminds you that God has ratified your covenant and stands ready to help you live it out?
When they were small, my kids were forever making plans for themselves. By themselves or with their friends, they would plan this get-together or this play date (today my daughter would be embarrassed to think she ever arranged "play dates") and then they would inform Cathy and I. The problem was, as you might guess, they had no power to enact their plans on their own. Neither they nor their friends could drive, or could pay for food or anything. They had no power, just plans. (It's a bit different now. They still make plans, but they need us less to enact them.)
What their plans lacked was ratification. They needed a higher authority (mom and dad) to help make their plans a reality. One of the things that frustrates politicians and diplomats and activists is the need for ratification. Plans can be made and treaties drawn up, but in our (and others' ) system of government, there is a need for a "higher authority" to ratify said plans or treaties. The approval and enforcement must come from a higher authority.
So does it seem strange, then, to find this word near the end of this prayer? We like to think we have made all the decisions necessary up to this point. Doing, suffering, employed, laid aside, and anything else that seems to be important. We've already prayed that! We've agreed to it. Why, then, do we come to this point in the prayer and ask for ratification from heaven?
It's because we're powerless to do what we have said we will do. We've proved that from the beginning of time. No one has said it clearer than Joshua. Near the end of the book that bears his name, Joshua is preparing to basically lay down his leadership role and send the people to their new home, the land that is their inheritance. He lays out the conditions of the covenant before them, and then makes this famous challenge: "Choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your ancestors served beyond the Euphrates, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you are living. But as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord" (Joshua 24:15). And when the people respond that they, too, want to serve the Lord, Joshua doesn't high-five them or offer a congratulatory speech. What he said next must have surprised everyone there: "You are not able to serve the Lord. He is a holy God; he is a jealous God. He will not forgive your rebellion and your sins. If you forsake the Lord and serve foreign gods, he will turn and bring disaster on you and make an end of you, after he has been good to you" (24:19-20).
Can you imagine how you would react if you had been standing there that day? What do you mean I'm not able to serve the Lord? I just said I would, so I will! But, the sad truth is that Joshua is right. And even though the people were determined that day, their history would bear out their inability to serve God when they tried on their own strength and on their own terms. This covenant they were making needed ratification. It needed involvement from a higher authority, and for that to happen, the people were going to have to get rid of everything that got in the way of a full relationship with the Lord.
After they toss out their idols, Joshua points to a stone that he says will be a witness of their covenant. There was no magic in the stone, but that stone would be there for a long time. And every time they saw the stone, they would be reminded of what they had promised on this day. The stone would be, in effect, God's reminder, God's ratification of their hopes and dreams.
When we come near the end of this covenant prayer, we're asking God to ratify our plans and giving him permission to remind us of the "terms" of the covenant we agreed to. We need a higher authority to confirm our plans and help us live it out. What, then, is your daily reminder of your covenant?
For me, there are many. My daily time in the Scriptures reminds me that I live under the authority of God's word. My ordination certificate hanging on the wall of my office reminds me that I have a calling from God. The Bible I have that was carried by my grandfather into the Army is a reminder of the "great cloud of witnesses" that cheers me on (see Hebrews 12:1). And weekly worship reminds me that I am not all there is; there is a higher authority than just me. What is your stone of remembrance? What reminds you that God has ratified your covenant and stands ready to help you live it out?
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