Ezra describes a crucial time in Israel’s history: the rebuilding and re-dedication of the Temple (Ezra 3:10–13). The Temple was the centerpiece of the faith of the Israelites (Deuteronomy 12:5–7). It was the only place that God had given them to approach Him (Deuteronomy 12:13–14). Gone were the days of the patriarchs when Abraham would simply build an Altar and worship the Lord God (Genesis 12:7–8; Genesis 13:18). For years, sacrificial worship only occurred at the Tabernacle (Exodus 40:1–2; Leviticus 17:8–9). The mobility of the tent meant that sacrifices and direct access to the Lord could happen all over Isreal (Exodus 33:7–11). This was convenient in times of persecution as the Tabernacle and the Ark of the Covenant could be present wherever needed (Numbers 10:33–36; 1 Samuel 4:3–4)

Measuring a person’s success—or impact—is difficult, because we rarely agree on the parameters. One person is considered “effective” because of what he accomplished; another because of the influence he had on others. The Muppet Christmas Carol offers the charming advice: “If you want to know the measure of a man, you simply count his friends!” That delightful statement probably could use a bit of nuance—but I do like it.

When it comes to measuring success or failure by the Lord’s standard, the task is blessedly simple:

Are you faithful to Him?

That is the measure. It is simple—and it may not be the measure we prefer—but it is the only measure that ultimately matters.
(See 1 Corinthians 4:2; Matthew 25:21.)

Solomon is one of the most prolific writers of Scripture. He gave us the larger portion of Proverbs (Prov. 1:1; 10:1; 25:1), plus the whole of Ecclesiastes (Eccl. 1:1), and the ever-interesting Song of Solomon (Song 1:1). Some have even put him forth as the author of the book of Job, though that doesn’t seem to hold much water in my perspective. Nevertheless, that is a tremendous amount of Scripture for any one person to be responsible for. For all of his failings later in life (1 Kings 11:1–11), we must admire the tremendous wisdom on life’s most important topics that the Lord revealed through Solomon’s skillful pen (1 Kings 4:29–34).

For all of the time I have spent learning from the thoughtful musings of humanity’s wisest author, I would have given anything to hear his address and prayer at the dedication of the Temple (1 Kings 8; 2 Chron. 6). So much went into that fateful day. Truthfully, the history of that faithful moment goes all the way back to Eden (Gen. 2:8–9; 3:22–24).

Stolen valor is a serious offense. This is when people claim to have served in a military office that they did not actually fill. It is vile to those of us who admire and respect the sacrifices of those who risk their lives in service to their country.

That is what came to mind as I was reading about King Solomon’s ascent to the throne.

As the final days of David’s life were in progress, Adonijah saw an opportunity. In the apparent power vacuum, there was a chance to gather enough people together and see if he could steal the throne—even though it was not his to take. His goal was to take advantage of the compromised position of having a living King David who could not do much due to failing health. To gather all the right people and declare himself king seemed like a legitimate plan to Adonijah (1 Kings 1:5–10).

This morning I awoke at 3:30 a.m. Unable to return to sleep, it seemed best to rise and read the Scriptures. I spent time in the final ten chapters of Deuteronomy, and the message could not be more plain.

Israel must believe in the LORD, worship Him alone, and carry out His commands.

This was no small task. The Lord would bring them into the land and prove—by blessing and by discipline—that He alone is the one true God. Obedience would bring blessing; disobedience would bring correction. Throughout the rest of Scripture, Israel experiences both.

Humans have always been fascinated by the people we choose to follow. We are wired to rally around leaders, heroes, and personalities. In my Bible reading today, I found myself once again in the story of Gideon—my favorite judge, for many reasons (and not just because he received the best Veggietales retelling).

Gideon’s story begins with him hiding in a winepress, threshing wheat so the Midianites would not steal it (Judges 6:11). Israel was under Midianite oppression at the time—a direct act of divine discipline (Judges 6:1–6). It is here, in fear and obscurity, that Gideon is greeted by the Angel of the LORD with the memorable words:

“The LORD is with you, you mighty man of valor!” (Judges 6:12)

Was there irony in that greeting? Perhaps. Or perhaps the Lord was speaking to Gideon not as he was in that moment, but as he would be by God’s power. Either way, the moment is rich with literary irony—and grace.

Joshua had an amazing career. The first leg of his life was spent under the discipleship of Moses. He remained faithful and served Moses throughout the many difficult years of desert wandering. Every time Joshua is mentioned in the Torah, he is found supporting Moses. Through all the difficulties and challenges, he resisted falling into the sins that characterized much of Israel and instead faithfully sought the Lord by supporting God’s chosen leader.

Joshua, along with Caleb, went into the land and confidently believed that the Lord could do all He had promised, even when the others were paralyzed by fear and doubt. The theme of being strong and courageous is the drumbeat of Joshua’s life. It is repeated throughout the first chapter of the book of Joshua and clearly defines his calling.

Strength and courage are shown to be choices a person can make. Courage is not the absence of fear; it is choosing faith over fear. Joshua consistently made that choice throughout his life. Whether in success or failure, he dedicated all things to the Lord—living out what Proverbs 3:5–6 would later define as the path of wisdom.