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Sermons from Landmark Tabernacle

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The Two Fortunes of the Promised Land

Seekers of fertile lands. Hope seekers of a peaceful home. 12 spies canvass the ordained territory. They are renowned. They are chosen. They are discernibly determined to bring back a thorough report. They will see the land promised to them. Fallen limbs crunch beneath their methodical steps. They are camouflaged by green brush and wilderness growth. They are not sent to attack, but to attain. They will bring back a report. The wind howls among the distant rock formations of Abraham’s property, mountain ranges majestically inviting these explorers. They will hike twisting trails, sip from refreshing waterfalls, taste of grapes wildly grown in the delicious vale of Eschol. And it will be too irresistible not to take some samples back to their anxious brethren. Grape stains dot their sweaty clothes. They sport milk-staches. They laugh and ooh and aah at their surroundings. But what looms on the horizon? What grows from the soil of impossibility, stretching toward the heavens with intimidating size? Gates. Iron fences. They gasp at the sight of them. These are barricades of hell before them. And if the gates have to be that large, who guards them, and what of their stature? How could they ever take these mountain folk; and then they get a view of the citizens. Armored guards stand like giants statues at the entrance of the gates; they are monstrous. These men had never seen such human beings? Could they be human? Legends abounded throughout the land of giants, but now the legends were visible, instantly haunting realities. Men with shoulders broader than any three Hebrew warriors, carrying swords apparently confiscated from angels; large and sharp, able to behead several opposing soldiers at once. When they step in the soft earth they leave pit like footprints. When they lean their weight against a tree it appears the aching trunk may snap like a twig. Maybe then one of the spies observed a nearby frog darting his tongue out to snatch up a helpless grasshopper, and a thought thunders in his imagination. Listen now…

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