David had decided to bring the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem. It was a good decision. The Ark represented God’s presence, God’s covenant, God’s blessing. It belonged in the capital city. It belonged at the center of the nation’s worship. So David gathered thirty thousand men. He prepared a celebration. He was doing something that on the outside seemed righteous. But he did it the wrong way.

“They set the ark of God on a new cart and brought it from the house of Abinadab which was on the hill; and Uzzah and Ahio, the sons of Abinadab, were driving the new cart. So they brought it with the ark of God from the house of Abinadab, which was on the hill; and Ahio was walking before the ark. Meanwhile, David and all the house of Israel were celebrating before the Lord with all kinds of instruments made of fir wood, and with lyres, harps, tambourines, sistrums, and cymbals. When they came to the threshing floor of Nacon, Uzzah reached out toward the ark of God and took hold of it, for the oxen nearly upset it. And the anger of the Lord burned against Uzzah, and God struck him down there for his irreverence; and he died there by the ark of God.” (2 Samuel 3:6-8 NASB)

Here’s what we need to see: Uzzah didn’t create this problem. David did. God had given explicit instructions about how the Ark was to be transported. In Numbers 4:15, the law was clear:

“When Aaron and his sons have finished covering the holy objects and all the holy vessels, when the camp is about to set out, then the sons of Kohath shall come to carry them, so that they do not touch the holy objects and die.” (NASB)

The Ark was to be carried on poles by the priests. Not on a cart. Not by common people. By the Levites, specifically the sons of Kohath, using poles inserted through the rings on the Ark’s sides. David knew this law. It was written. It was known. It was God’s command. But David chose a different way. He put the Ark on a cart—the same way the Philistines had transported it years earlier. And because David disobeyed, Uzzah died. This is uncomfortable. This is the part of Scripture we’d rather skip. We want to talk about David’s good intentions. We want to talk about how Uzzah was just trying to help. We want to soften the story. But Scripture doesn’t soften it. And neither should we. David’s disobedience killed an innocent man. Uzzah wasn’t rebelling against God. Uzzah wasn’t defying the law. Uzzah was simply responding to what his king had ordered. His king—who should have known better, who should have obeyed better—had put him in a position where his natural instinct to help became fatal. And here’s what makes this even more serious: David’s disobedience didn’t just affect Uzzah. It affected the entire nation. The celebration stopped. The joy evaporated. The people who had come to witness the Ark being brought to Jerusalem witnessed instead the sudden death of a beloved man trying to steady it. David’s disobedience became a stumbling block to an entire nation.

This is the principle we need to understand: your disobedience doesn’t just affect you. It creates conditions that harm others. Think about how this works in real life. A father decides he doesn’t need to control his temper at home. He tells himself it’s just how he is. He’s a passionate man. He gets angry. He yells. His family learns to walk on eggshells around him. They learn that love is conditional upon his mood. They learn that anger is how you handle frustration. The father’s disobedience to God’s command to “be slow to anger” (James 1:19) becomes a stumbling block to his children and wife. His lack of self-control teaches them a lie about what it means to follow Jesus. Or consider a woman who decides she doesn’t need to honor and obey her husband in all things.  Her defiance teaches her children and the young women of the Church that personal desire and “fairness’ is more important than obeying the Lord by obeying and honoring her husband.  This disobedience has the power to warp an entire new generation of young women and their understanding of a God honoring marriage. Or think about a young man who decides that sexual purity isn’t really that important. He tells himself that what he does in private doesn’t hurt anyone. But his younger brother and his friends are watching. Whether it is his intention or not, his actions teach that lust is acceptable.  And his disobedience becomes a stumbling block to the faith of others in his life. When you choose to disobey God—even in small ways, even in private ways—you create an atmosphere of compromise. You teach those around you that God’s commands are optional. You teach them that convenience matters more than obedience. You teach them that your desires matter more than God’s design. And sometimes, like with Uzzah, the consequences are immediate and devastating.

Here’s what David eventually understood. After Uzzah’s death, David was angry at God. He said, “How can the ark of the Lord come to me?” (2 Samuel 6:9). He was afraid. He didn’t understand why God had struck Uzzah down. But eventually, David repented. He realized that Uzzah’s death was because of his sin. And when he moved the Ark again—this time the right way, with the Levites carrying it on poles—something different happened. The celebration was restored. The blessing flowed. The nation experienced the presence of God. David’s obedience became a cleansing force. His right action had a righteous effect on those around him.

This is the principle: your obedience has power. Your disobedience has power. Both ripple outward.

When you choose to obey God—even when it’s inconvenient, even when it costs you something—you create an atmosphere of blessing around you. Your children see a parent who keeps their word. Your employees see a leader with integrity. Your friends see someone who values truth more than pleasure. Just as your disobedience becomes a stumbling block, your obedience becomes a stepping stone.

So I’m asking you this week: Where are you disobeying God? Not where are you struggling? Not where are you tempted? But where are you choosing to disobey? No excuses. Where have you decided that God’s command doesn’t apply to you? Where have you rationalized your way out of obedience? Maybe it’s in your marriage. God says to love your spouse sacrificially (Ephesians 5:25). But you’ve decided that your comfort matters more. You’ve decided that your needs come first. And your spouse is learning from your disobedience that love is conditional. Your disobedience is a stumbling block to them. Maybe it’s in your parenting. God says to train your children in the way they should go (Proverbs 22:6). But you’ve decided that consistency is too hard. You’ve decided that letting them do what they want is easier than discipline and setting boundaries. And your children are learning from your disobedience that there are no real consequences, that authority is arbitrary, that obedience doesn’t matter. Your disobedience is a stumbling block to them. Maybe it’s in your work. God says to work heartily, as working for the Lord (Colossians 3:23). But you’ve decided that doing the minimum is good enough. You’ve decided that cutting corners is acceptable. And your coworkers are learning from your disobedience that excellence doesn’t matter, that shortcuts are fine, that God’s standards don’t apply in the workplace. Your disobedience is a stumbling block to them. Maybe it’s in your finances. God says to give generously both to your Church and to others (2 Corinthians 9:7, 1 Corinthians 16:2, Malachi 3:8). But you’ve decided that you need to protect yourself first. You’ve decided that you can’t afford to be generous. And those around you are learning from your disobedience that fear matters more than faith, that security comes from money not from God, that generosity is a luxury only the wealthy can afford. Your disobedience is a stumbling block to them.

But here’s the encouraging part: obedience works the same way in reverse. When you choose to obey God—when you choose to love your spouse sacrificially even when you’re tired—your spouse learns what real love looks like. Your obedience becomes a stepping stone to their faith. When you choose to obey God—when you set firm, loving boundaries with your children even when it’s harder than letting them do what they want—your children learn that authority is trustworthy, that limits are loving, that obedience matters. Your obedience becomes a stepping stone to their faith. When you choose to obey God—when you work with excellence even when no one is watching, even when you could get away with less—your coworkers learn that integrity matters, that God’s standards apply everywhere, that excellence is a form of worship. Your obedience becomes a stepping stone to their faith. When you choose to obey God—when you give generously even when you’re afraid, even when you don’t know how you’ll make ends meet—those around you learn that faith matters more than fear, that God provides, that generosity is possible because God is trustworthy. Your obedience becomes a stepping stone to their faith. Your choices matter. Not just for you. For everyone around you. David eventually understood this. After moving the Ark the right way, after obeying God’s clear command, he danced before the Lord with all his might. And the nation celebrated with him. His obedience created an atmosphere of blessing. That can be your story too. Not because you’re perfect. Not because you never struggle with obedience. But because you’ve decided that God’s commands matter more than your convenience. You’ve decided that the people around you matter more than your comfort. You’ve decided to obey. And in that obedience, you become a blessing—not just to yourself, but to everyone whose life you touch.

Yours in Christ, 

Pastor John