The Walls That Came Down for a Shout

Have you ever stood in front of something too big? So big you knew, all the way down in your tummy, that no matter how hard you tried, you could never knock it over by yourself?

That is how the city of Jericho looked to God's people.

It had walls. Not little walls. Tall walls, thick walls, walls that went up and up toward the sky. Behind them the gates were shut and barred. Nobody went out. Nobody came in. And God's people, fresh from crossing the Jordan on dry ground, stood outside and looked up, and up, and up.

You could not climb that. You could not break that. You could try and try and try, and the wall would only stand there, huge and unmoved, while your arms grew tired.

But God had a plan, and oh, it was a strange one.

He did not say, "Build a bigger battering ram." He did not say, "Run at it as hard as you can." He said, "Walk."

Just walk once around the city, without a word. The priests would carry the holy ark, the same ark that had gone first into the Jordan when the river stopped to let everyone cross, and the trumpets would sound, and everyone else would keep silent. Then home, to rest.

So they did. Once around, the first day. The wall stood.

Once around, the second day. The wall stood.

Day after day, round and round, six days long. And maybe the people inside laughed and pointed. "Look at them, walking. What good is walking?"

But God was keeping a promise. Long, long before, he had promised this land to Abraham's family. And God never forgets a promise. Not one. He had simply chosen a way to win that no one would have guessed.

On the seventh day they walked around seven times. Seven whole times. And then the priests blew the trumpets, and all the people shouted, one great shout up at that great wall.

And the wall came down.

Nobody pushed it and nobody climbed it. It fell flat to the ground, the whole way around, because God was the one fighting, and his people only had to trust him and shout.

This is how God loves to do things. He wins the wars his children could never win. He does the saving they could never do. The strong way, the pushing way, the try-harder way was never going to be enough. The wall was always too big.

And even then, on the dusty ground outside Jericho, God was pointing ahead to a bigger battle. One day a King would come to fight it, the very biggest battle of all, not with a sword, not by knocking anyone down. He would win by laying himself down, and trusting his Father, and loving you all the way to the end.

That is what God's strength looks like: gentle, and sure, and stronger than any wall.

And his name is Jesus.