“But to the tribe of Levi, He gave no inheritance, since the food offerings presented to the Lord, the God of Israel are their inheritance, just as He promised them.” (Joshua 13:14 NIV)
Joshua 13-23 may feel a little dull to us three thousand years later, but for the original audience, it was an thrilling document. These chapters are basically a will reading: the bequeathal of the Promised Land to eleven of the tribes. The only tribe excluded? The Levites. There was no land allotment for the Levites, their provision would solely come from the offerings presented to the Lord. They would receive sustenance, not soil. The Levites were to be set apart for temple service, for teaching and judicial action, and for the maintaining of the cities of refuge. They were essentially the ministers in ancient Israel and God alone was their portion.
I’ve got to confess, this hits a little too close to home this morning. Ever since my parents passed and I spent eighteen months sorting through their personal belongings, I’ve tried hard not to be a possession person. I want to be satisfied with a borrowed roof over our heads and godly purpose burning in our hearts. As I age, though, more and more I long for a place of my own, a refuge from the world. In the Broadway production of Hamilton, President George Washington sings some words that have stuck in my soul: “I want to sit under my own vine and fig tree.”
His song is rooted in scripture. What’s more, it was an oft-quoted and favorite text of our first president. It turns out he referenced this text almost fifty times in his letters and addresses: sort of a mission statement for the new nation he was crafting. Every peasant farmer would have independence from a military state, a small piece of soil to tend and enjoy as their own.
“Everyone will sit under their own vine and under their own fig tree, and no one will make them afraid, for the Lord Almighty has spoken.”
(Micah 4:4 NIV)
While it was a wonderful dream for George Washington and every other tribe of Israel, but this is not the the dream that God has for His Levites. No, God longed to be the Levite’s portion alone. He wanted them to live entirely dependent on Him. For the Levites and modern-day ministers alike, I suppose, our true inheritance is Him. He is the vine and fig tree we sit under. He is our Shade and Refuge. Perhaps all this dependance is quite intentional because don’t we teach others to trust in God? How can we lead where we haven’t ever been? We note that it wasn’t Moses who carried the Israelites up into Canaan. No, it was Joshua who took them across the border because Joshua had been there before.
I need to remember this text the next time the longing to settle down and dig roots grabs hold of my heart. What reads like loss for the Levites is actually gain. Aren’t we supposed to set our sights on heaven anyway? Isn’t that far easier to keep in proper perspective while we’re pulling up tent stakes than when we’re laying down foundations?
“Lord, You alone are my portion and my cup: You make my lot secure. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance.” (Psalm 16:6 NIV)
Lord, we recognize again that You have a perfect plan and it is our flesh that keeps gumming up the works. Forgive us for our heart’s pursuit of the American Dream. Help us replace it with Your dream for our story. Gather all our longings toward eternity. May we be even more intentional as long as we draw breath here on earth. It is an honor to be set aside for Kingdom purpose, help us rise up to Your surmise of our potential. Amen.