This week's Theme: Informed Decisions
Day 1: Inquiring of the Lord
My mother’s voice was panicked and insistent. “Did you eat any of it?” I hesitated. I was afraid I would get into trouble. She was afraid for my life.
It was all about a piece of bread I had “discovered” as I played. “Penny bread”, no less—the tiny oblong rolls that sold for a penny when Crozier’s bread van rolled into the village each day.
Warm and fluffy on the inside with a perfect crust on the outside, penny bread was irresistible. So irresistible, in fact, that I could not overcome the temptation to nibble on the dry crusty bit I had found—days, perhaps weeks—removed from Crozier’s bread van.
I honestly do not remember whether I had actually succeeded in eating any of the dry, hard, morsel of the “ex-bread”. I only remember the alarm—Rat poison! And the ensuing chaos. But somewhere between the confusion and my fear-driven push to denial, someone spoke the magic words—sugar-water.
Sugar-water was exactly what it sounds like—sugar mixed into plain water. It was not the “simple syrup” elevation of these days—it was just plain, humble sugar-water. A catch-all cure for everything, sugar-water “satisfied” the hunger pangs of undernourishment, it augmented rations when plate count outsized portions, and it served as in-between-meal fillers and snacks. And what child could resist a treat of pure sugar and water?
Hardly surprising, then, that the ubiquitous sugar-water was considered an antidote to poison! To be fair, I think somewhere in the plan was the idea of making the sugar water so sweet that it would induce vomiting, but what do I know of folk remedies (many of which are good—don’t get me wrong!)? Thank God, either I didn’t eat the rat-poisoned bread, or enough of it to cause any harm!
I have the dubious comfort of knowing I was not the only one to have ever “sampled” bad bread. This age-old staple, treasured across cultures for sustenance, nourishment, comfort, bonding—seems to have been bait for others besides the rat and me!
Among the military operations described in the book of Joshua is the account of a maneuver by one nation who chose not to join the regional coalition being formed against Joshua and his army. Instead, they resorted to a ruse:
They went as a delegation whose donkeys were loaded with worn-out sacks and old wineskins, cracked and mended.... They went to Joshua in the camp at Gilgal and said to him and the Israelites, “We have come from a distant country; make a treaty with us” (Joshua 9:4, 6). Joshua and the people asked a few cursory questions but were all too easily satisfied with the glib answers:
“This bread of ours was warm when we packed it at home on the day we left to come to you. But now see how dry and moldy it is. And these wineskins that we filled were new, but see how cracked they are. And our clothes and sandals are worn out by the very long journey” (Joshua 9:12-13).
By the time the deception was revealed, it was too late— a signed treaty was in place (Joshua 9:15). And although the disgruntled assembly grumbled against the leaders… all the leaders answered, “We have given them our oath by the Lord, the God of Israel, and we cannot touch them now” (Joshua 9:18-19). The long-term consequences of this deception were to follow them far into the future.
One very important detail of this account—in fact the most telling statement—should not be overlooked. It is found in verse 14: The Israelites sampled their provisions but did not inquire of the Lord. I think of the major lesson reverberating through that simple statement. I believe its essence can be captured in a quote from Charles Haddon Spurgeon’s classic book, According to Promise: https://spurgeongems.org/chs_according-to-promise
“It is very important to be able to distinguish between things that are different because we cannot always rely upon appearances. Things which seem to be alike may yet be the opposite of each other. A scorpion may be like an egg, and a stone like a piece of bread; but they are far from being the same... This is especially the case in spiritual things and therefore it requires us to be on our guard.”
The caution couldn’t be stronger in our day. The world offers us brimming baskets of spiritual, political, and personal provisions that are moldy, deceptive, and downright poisonous. Only the taste of “true bread” (John 6:32) can train our palates to tastes that are healthy, wise, and discerning.
“Every word that comes from the mouth of God” (Matthew 4:4) is the test for every morsel of "bread" we sample. No other mouth—leader, military commander, statesman, ambassador, sage, or religious expert is a substitute for the mouth of God—as Joshua and the people learned by hard experience. Only by inquiring of the Lord can we judge what is moldy. Or smell a rat.
