A Lifestyle of Surrender in the Modern Church
The story of Joshua is an ancient tale, old as the dust that clung to the feet of his people as they wandered, and yet it feels close—closer than the land on which we stand, closer than the breath we draw. It is a story of action, of obedience, and of surrender. And for the Church today, it whispers truths that cut through the noise of our modern world, truths that offer a way to overcome the shadows of addiction, the weight of mental anguish, and the hollow ache of searching for something to hold onto.
Joshua was a man of action, but not the restless kind that moves for the sake of movement. His steps were deliberate, forged in the crucible of waiting and listening. When he led the people across the Jordan River, it was not his strength that parted the waters, but his surrender to the God who commanded him to go. And when Jericho fell, it was not through might or strategy, but through obedience so complete it looked like foolishness to the world.
This is the legacy of Joshua: not the conquest of a land, but the conquest of self—a surrender to a purpose greater than his own desires or fears. For the Church today, this legacy of action rooted in surrender is the key to living in a world that feels increasingly fragmented, where addiction and mental health struggles rise like walls of Jericho around the heart.
The Walls We Build
We, like Jericho, are walled cities. Addiction—whether to substances, screens, power, or approval—is a wall we build to keep out pain and longing, but it traps us within its cold stones. Mental health struggles often feel like battlements too high to scale, a fortress where despair and anxiety pace the ramparts. These are not new battles; they are as old as the human soul.
Joshua’s story reminds us that the walls do not fall by human hands. They fall when we march to the rhythm of surrender, when we move not in our own strength but in obedience to God’s call. And here lies the first truth for the Church: we are not called to fight addiction or mental anguish with brute force. We are called to surrender—to march, to trust, and to let God do the work of breaking down what we cannot.
A Legacy of Action, A Life of Surrender
Joshua’s actions were never separated from his surrender. The two were bound together, like the river and its current. This is the paradox: action without surrender is striving, and surrender without action is stagnation. But together, they create a rhythm, a way of living that transforms both the heart and the world around it.
For the Church today, this rhythm is our way forward. Addiction cannot be overcome by willpower alone; it must be met with a community of faith that acts by providing support, accountability, and love, while surrendering to the reality that true healing comes from God. Mental health struggles cannot be silenced with quick fixes; they must be approached with the courage to act—seeking therapy, leaning into relationships, opening Scripture—and the humility to surrender the outcome to the One who knows the depths of the human soul.
The Church as the Jordan Crossing
The Church must become a place where people can step into the waters of their struggles and find that they part—not because the Church is strong, but because God is present. Like the priests who carried the Ark of the Covenant into the Jordan, the Church carries the presence of God into the chaos of addiction and mental health battles. But to do so, the Church must first surrender its pride, its programs, its need for control, and step into the unknown with the faith that God will make a way.
Joshua’s charge to the people—“Choose this day whom you will serve” (Joshua 24:15)—is the daily choice of every believer. Addiction tempts us to serve our cravings. Mental struggles whisper that we are alone. But surrender calls us to choose God, to lean not on our own understanding but on the promises of a faithful Father (Proverbs 3:5-6).
Victory Through Surrender
This is how the Church overcomes the crises of our modern world: not by striving to tear down walls but by surrendering to the God who already has. 2 Corinthians 10:4-5 reminds us, “The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds.”
And so, the Church becomes a people of action and surrender, of marching and waiting, of doing and trusting. Like Joshua, we claim the promises of God not with clenched fists but with open hands. And in that surrender, we find the strength to face addiction and mental health struggles—not because we are strong, but because God’s strength is made perfect in our weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9).
The walls will fall. The rivers will part. But only when we, like Joshua, choose the quiet, courageous path of surrender. And in that choice, the Church becomes what it was always meant to be: a place where the broken find healing, the weary find rest, and the walled cities of addiction and despair crumble in the light of God’s unyielding love.
Kommentit