Part One I left the complaining and crying of the people and walked toward the shore. In the early evening, the light flickered on the water in silvers and teals. Transfixed by the dancing colours, my mind wandered through the events of the last few hours. Our ex-masters had come for us... After all they’d suffered over the last few weeks, I wasn’t sure they would give chase... But now the only thing that separated us from them was a thick cloud. The wailing from the camp drifted on the wind down to my secluded haven... We were good at complaining. We complained about the food, about the conditions, our captors, our country, our God, each other... we were masters of complaints. Children of heartache. Yet, I yearn for more. All those years enslaved, labouring under the hot sun, blisters covering my hands, my feet swollen and rough, my heart longed for more... like a homesickness for a far off land, one I had never seen. This sickness lured bitterness to my soul, toying with it... begging me to give up and accept my status in the world. Slave. Worthless. Expendable. Like so many of my countrymen, this bitterness tried to overwhelm me, dry me out like that the desert that surrounded us in that city of brick and sun. I’ve been thirsty my whole life. But hope... hope. It’s always played around the edges of my mind. It’s whispered dreams and promises that someday something ‘more’ will happen. The God of our people would rescue us from our oppressors just as He had rescued Joseph all those years ago... The wind grew stronger around me. The light no longer danced, but pulsated off the water and jolted me from my thoughts. As I stood, the wind heightened even more. It became a shout, then a howl, blowing upon the water with such ferocity that I did not hear my name being called... It seemed that the water was being pushed back by the wind. The gale licked it up like a starving desert wanderer... It was then that I felt him at my side, I turned... Bathed in the firelight, Caleb’s face was red and wild, his beard and hair crazy in the wind. “Joshua, Moses is calling...” A knowing rose within me that ‘the something more’ - the promises whispered through stories of old by the ghosts of hope - would be found beyond this body of water that was being torn in two right before my eyes. To be continued.
Part One I left the complaining and crying of the people and walked toward the shore. In the early evening, the light flickered on the water in silvers and teals. Transfixed by the dancing colours, my mind wandered through the events of the last few hours. Our ex-masters had come for us... After all they’d suffered over the last few weeks, I wasn’t sure they would give chase... But now the only thing that separated us from them was a thick cloud. The wailing from the camp drifted on the wind down to my secluded haven... We were good at complaining. We complained about the food, about the conditions, our captors, our country, our God, each other... we were masters of complaints. Children of heartache. Yet, I yearn for more. All those years enslaved, labouring under the hot sun, blisters covering my hands, my feet swollen and rough, my heart longed for more... like a homesickness for a far off land, one I had never seen. This sickness lured bitterness to my soul, toying with it... begging me to give up and accept my status in the world. Slave. Worthless. Expendable. Like so many of my countrymen, this bitterness tried to overwhelm me, dry me out like that the desert that surrounded us in that city of brick and sun. I’ve been thirsty my whole life. But hope... hope. It’s always played around the edges of my mind. It’s whispered dreams and promises that someday something ‘more’ will happen. The God of our people would rescue us from our oppressors just as He had rescued Joseph all those years ago... The wind grew stronger around me. The light no longer danced, but pulsated off the water and jolted me from my thoughts. As I stood, the wind heightened even more. It became a shout, then a howl, blowing upon the water with such ferocity that I did not hear my name being called... It seemed that the water was being pushed back by the wind. The gale licked it up like a starving desert wanderer... It was then that I felt him at my side, I turned... Bathed in the firelight, Caleb’s face was red and wild, his beard and hair crazy in the wind. “Joshua, Moses is calling...” A knowing rose within me that ‘the something more’ - the promises whispered through stories of old by the ghosts of hope - would be found beyond this body of water that was being torn in two right before my eyes. To be continued.
I have two kids under 5 and I really hate seeing them in pain. I would do ANYTHING to keep them from harm's way. It’s really tempting to shelter them, prop them up and surround them in bubble wrap so they never experience hardship. However, if I treated them this way, they would never learn. To me, some of the most important skills I can teach my children are resilience, openness and determination. How to speak up when something bad happens to them, how to defend themselves and others, how to recover from disappointments and keep on moving forward in hardship. How to love like Christ and live openly in his presence come-what-may. The inevitable is that bad things will happen. Our assurance is that God's unfolding grace is always at work, even when it’s not seen or being demonstrative. That’s why we never give up. Through hardships, there is more going on than meets the eye. Our inner self is being built up and strengthened. Exercised. It’s learning the ways of faith and hope in a way it never could walking down easy street. Don’t chase after a picture perfect life, one that looks good from the outside but is neglected within. The depth of character is formed on stormy, crashing seas where we have to dig deep and trust. Faith is built on the unseen, the untouchable, and the undeniable love of God. How much would the world change if we valued the unseen? If we chased after kindness instead of positions. If we built character and hope rather than empires. And practised humility, compassion and community in the place of coming first. There is always more going on around you than meets the eye. Hardship isn’t just painful, it’s a training ground for resilience and strength. It’s an opportunity for grace and hope to grow. And it’s the unseen factors of life, not the seen trophies or moments of glory, that carry us into eternity. Open your eyes to them. And he is always there, with us through it all, teaching us the “unforced rhythms of grace.” (Matt 11:29 MSG)
I have two kids under 5 and I really hate seeing them in pain. I would do ANYTHING to keep them from harm's way. It’s really tempting to shelter them, prop them up and surround them in bubble wrap so they never experience hardship. However, if I treated them this way, they would never learn. To me, some of the most important skills I can teach my children are resilience, openness and determination. How to speak up when something bad happens to them, how to defend themselves and others, how to recover from disappointments and keep on moving forward in hardship. How to love like Christ and live openly in his presence come-what-may. The inevitable is that bad things will happen. Our assurance is that God's unfolding grace is always at work, even when it’s not seen or being demonstrative. That’s why we never give up. Through hardships, there is more going on than meets the eye. Our inner self is being built up and strengthened. Exercised. It’s learning the ways of faith and hope in a way it never could walking down easy street. Don’t chase after a picture perfect life, one that looks good from the outside but is neglected within. The depth of character is formed on stormy, crashing seas where we have to dig deep and trust. Faith is built on the unseen, the untouchable, and the undeniable love of God. How much would the world change if we valued the unseen? If we chased after kindness instead of positions. If we built character and hope rather than empires. And practised humility, compassion and community in the place of coming first. There is always more going on around you than meets the eye. Hardship isn’t just painful, it’s a training ground for resilience and strength. It’s an opportunity for grace and hope to grow. And it’s the unseen factors of life, not the seen trophies or moments of glory, that carry us into eternity. Open your eyes to them. And he is always there, with us through it all, teaching us the “unforced rhythms of grace.” (Matt 11:29 MSG)
Some think that the writings in Ecclesiastes are negative and depressing. It could seem that way when you read “Everything is meaningless… completely meaningless” (1:2) and “…I declared that the dead, who had already died, are happier than the living, who are still alive.” (4:2). But this book is a beautiful journey filled with the poetic and nostalgic language of a man, whom near the end of his life, is navigating the hallways of his past, the room of his present, and the gardens of tomorrow. He explores the question “What is life all about” so eloquently and beautifully. When you read the book in one sitting, you get a sense that he has arrived at a conclusion and made peace with his journey. In the western world, we view life through staccato glasses; we often miss the meaningfulness of everyday moments, the beauty of the journey, the importance of light and shade, failure and success. We want to jump to all the good parts and forget the hardships. Life is a dance… not a climb or a ladder, but forward, backward, sideways, up and down motions with lessons to be learnt, times for reflection, for action, growth, joy, pain, sorrow, gladness… When we dance through these experiences, we truly live each moment and nothing is wasted. I think that's the point the author of Ecclesiastes is trying to make. He uses the word ‘meaningless’ more than 30 times in the 12th chapter, which we could take depressingly. But the original word used here is “heh’bel” meaning “vapor or breath”… He’s not saying life is meaningless, so there’s no point… He’s saying life is short, make the most of it. Whatever you find yourself doing, or whatever situation you're in, own it, live it and squeeze every last drop of growth, meaning and joy out of it that you can. It’s an encouragement to grab life with both hands, no excuses and live… truly live. Brene Brown writes, “I don’t have to chase extraordinary moments to find happiness - it’s right in front of me if I’m paying attention and practicing gratitude.” Life is a vapor, a breath... what will you find within it? We do not dance this life alone… our divine partner, our God and Saviour, is with us, showing us the steps and leading the way. Grab onto him with both hands, your whole heart, all your strength, and give life all you’ve got.
Some think that the writings in Ecclesiastes are negative and depressing. It could seem that way when you read “Everything is meaningless… completely meaningless” (1:2) and “…I declared that the dead, who had already died, are happier than the living, who are still alive.” (4:2). But this book is a beautiful journey filled with the poetic and nostalgic language of a man, whom near the end of his life, is navigating the hallways of his past, the room of his present, and the gardens of tomorrow. He explores the question “What is life all about” so eloquently and beautifully. When you read the book in one sitting, you get a sense that he has arrived at a conclusion and made peace with his journey. In the western world, we view life through staccato glasses; we often miss the meaningfulness of everyday moments, the beauty of the journey, the importance of light and shade, failure and success. We want to jump to all the good parts and forget the hardships. Life is a dance… not a climb or a ladder, but forward, backward, sideways, up and down motions with lessons to be learnt, times for reflection, for action, growth, joy, pain, sorrow, gladness… When we dance through these experiences, we truly live each moment and nothing is wasted. I think that's the point the author of Ecclesiastes is trying to make. He uses the word ‘meaningless’ more than 30 times in the 12th chapter, which we could take depressingly. But the original word used here is “heh’bel” meaning “vapor or breath”… He’s not saying life is meaningless, so there’s no point… He’s saying life is short, make the most of it. Whatever you find yourself doing, or whatever situation you're in, own it, live it and squeeze every last drop of growth, meaning and joy out of it that you can. It’s an encouragement to grab life with both hands, no excuses and live… truly live. Brene Brown writes, “I don’t have to chase extraordinary moments to find happiness - it’s right in front of me if I’m paying attention and practicing gratitude.” Life is a vapor, a breath... what will you find within it? We do not dance this life alone… our divine partner, our God and Saviour, is with us, showing us the steps and leading the way. Grab onto him with both hands, your whole heart, all your strength, and give life all you’ve got.
The Israelites were few, only a remnant, and facing a long and difficult journey. Tired and worn out physically and spiritually, many believed that God had left them. They were facing extreme loss and were aliens in a foreign land dealing with the contrast of their captivity and faith. From young to old, their spirits were frail and weak. We all face seasons that suck the strength out of us. Then we’re left with the waiting. Psychologists and people who have experienced grief will tell you that the moment of tragedy is not the hardest. ‘In the moment’ you’re full of adrenaline and directly after, there are people around helping and lending strength. It’s the aftermath, the emptiness that’s the hardest. When everyone goes home, the to-do list is done, the phone calls stop. The waiting, the stillness. The time between the lowest point and the climb back up. The time between times. (a little reference for all the Celtic history lovers). In the seasons of lost strength, it’s our hope in the divine and his love that fortifies our wastelands and brings stamina back into our tired legs. It’s the ‘waiting’ that makes us strong again. The days we pull ourselves out of bed, make ourselves eat, make those phone calls, get out of the house, keep on going, living and loving. By grace. We learn to lean into God’s strength, which is creative by nature, and it renews us day by day. We learn to rise above our weakness, grief and hardship to get an eagle's eye perspective on life and love. We will move on from this moment, but we must let this moment teach us what it can. It’s in the waiting that God does his greatest and most miraculous work – causing the weak and lifeless to learn to run again. Not hobble, but stride in strength. Louie Giglio said, “To us, waiting is wasting. To God, waiting is working.” Breathe, rest and trust. “God doesn’t come and go. God lasts. He’s creator of all you can see or imagine. He doesn’t get tired out, doesn’t pause to catch his breath. And He knows everything, inside and out. He energises those who get tired, gives fresh strength to dropouts. Even young people tire and drop out, young folk in their prime stumble and fall. But those who wait upon God get fresh strength. They spread their wings and soar like eagles, They run and don’t get tired, they walk and don’t lag behind.” Isa 40:29-31 (MSG).
The Israelites were few, only a remnant, and facing a long and difficult journey. Tired and worn out physically and spiritually, many believed that God had left them. They were facing extreme loss and were aliens in a foreign land dealing with the contrast of their captivity and faith. From young to old, their spirits were frail and weak. We all face seasons that suck the strength out of us. Then we’re left with the waiting. Psychologists and people who have experienced grief will tell you that the moment of tragedy is not the hardest. ‘In the moment’ you’re full of adrenaline and directly after, there are people around helping and lending strength. It’s the aftermath, the emptiness that’s the hardest. When everyone goes home, the to-do list is done, the phone calls stop. The waiting, the stillness. The time between the lowest point and the climb back up. The time between times. (a little reference for all the Celtic history lovers). In the seasons of lost strength, it’s our hope in the divine and his love that fortifies our wastelands and brings stamina back into our tired legs. It’s the ‘waiting’ that makes us strong again. The days we pull ourselves out of bed, make ourselves eat, make those phone calls, get out of the house, keep on going, living and loving. By grace. We learn to lean into God’s strength, which is creative by nature, and it renews us day by day. We learn to rise above our weakness, grief and hardship to get an eagle's eye perspective on life and love. We will move on from this moment, but we must let this moment teach us what it can. It’s in the waiting that God does his greatest and most miraculous work – causing the weak and lifeless to learn to run again. Not hobble, but stride in strength. Louie Giglio said, “To us, waiting is wasting. To God, waiting is working.” Breathe, rest and trust. “God doesn’t come and go. God lasts. He’s creator of all you can see or imagine. He doesn’t get tired out, doesn’t pause to catch his breath. And He knows everything, inside and out. He energises those who get tired, gives fresh strength to dropouts. Even young people tire and drop out, young folk in their prime stumble and fall. But those who wait upon God get fresh strength. They spread their wings and soar like eagles, They run and don’t get tired, they walk and don’t lag behind.” Isa 40:29-31 (MSG).
Paul was a man with many strengths. Through the New Testament accounts, we see that he spoke with confidence and that he was tenacious, patient and determined. Even during imprisonment and the threat of death, Paul’s trust and faith in God remained solid. He was strong and through his willingness, he has done much for all believers. But at the beginning of 2 Corinthians 12, he asks us not to think of him more highly than we ought to. He wants us to see the entirety of his life, the ups and downs, things said and done (or not) – the whole story, not just a snapshot of his public moments. Let's not forget where he came from and the darkness that lived in his past. Paul was sent a “thorn in his side”… there’s a lot of commentary on what this ‘thorn’ was, but at the end of the day, it kept Paul reliant on God. It’s this weakness, Paul says, that made God’s power rest on him and take up residence within him. It’s not the exertion of human strength that makes a perfect home for God’s power. It’s the space created by weakness – our humanity and natural frailty – that gives room for the power of God to abide in us. His strength is perfected and completed IN our weakness, not in spite of it. Christ cannot fully show the extent of his wonder and grace unless He does so through a broken vessel. 2 Cor 4:7 says “We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves.” We all have strengths, but we also have weaknesses. We don’t need to shy away from them, cover them up or wish they weren’t there. Our weaknesses are paramount to our faith journey. It’s through our frailties that God shows a world obsessed with winning that lasting power does not depend on human force but on the supernatural strength of Christ. A strength that resounds through community, burden bearing, sharing, love, connection, and forgiveness. Christ doesn’t strengthen individuals so that one can come out on top... He strengthens us to strengthen us all, power in community, strength in one another, hope in Christ. Weakness is fulfilled when God fills that gap with his strength and light. It’s the moments where our weaknesses are revealed and God’s strength is at full capacity that tells the redemption story more clearly and beautifully than any feat of human strength ever could. Being real with our vulnerabilities is the strongest way to live. Authentic, open, real, honest. Empowered by Christ - the life source of everything. Embrace your weaknesses and you’ll find the embrace of Christ’s strength.
Paul was a man with many strengths. Through the New Testament accounts, we see that he spoke with confidence and that he was tenacious, patient and determined. Even during imprisonment and the threat of death, Paul’s trust and faith in God remained solid. He was strong and through his willingness, he has done much for all believers. But at the beginning of 2 Corinthians 12, he asks us not to think of him more highly than we ought to. He wants us to see the entirety of his life, the ups and downs, things said and done (or not) – the whole story, not just a snapshot of his public moments. Let's not forget where he came from and the darkness that lived in his past. Paul was sent a “thorn in his side”… there’s a lot of commentary on what this ‘thorn’ was, but at the end of the day, it kept Paul reliant on God. It’s this weakness, Paul says, that made God’s power rest on him and take up residence within him. It’s not the exertion of human strength that makes a perfect home for God’s power. It’s the space created by weakness – our humanity and natural frailty – that gives room for the power of God to abide in us. His strength is perfected and completed IN our weakness, not in spite of it. Christ cannot fully show the extent of his wonder and grace unless He does so through a broken vessel. 2 Cor 4:7 says “We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves.” We all have strengths, but we also have weaknesses. We don’t need to shy away from them, cover them up or wish they weren’t there. Our weaknesses are paramount to our faith journey. It’s through our frailties that God shows a world obsessed with winning that lasting power does not depend on human force but on the supernatural strength of Christ. A strength that resounds through community, burden bearing, sharing, love, connection, and forgiveness. Christ doesn’t strengthen individuals so that one can come out on top... He strengthens us to strengthen us all, power in community, strength in one another, hope in Christ. Weakness is fulfilled when God fills that gap with his strength and light. It’s the moments where our weaknesses are revealed and God’s strength is at full capacity that tells the redemption story more clearly and beautifully than any feat of human strength ever could. Being real with our vulnerabilities is the strongest way to live. Authentic, open, real, honest. Empowered by Christ - the life source of everything. Embrace your weaknesses and you’ll find the embrace of Christ’s strength.
I'm not sure whether you've heard of the "Anthropic Principle" but it's one of the strongest evidences in observing the universe that suggests it is intelligently designed. It highlights the conditions absolutely necessary for living organisms to survive in our universe. Illya Prigogine (Chemical Physicist and 2 times Nobel Prize winner) says, “The statistical probability that organic structures and the most precisely harmonized reactions that typify living organisms would be generated by accident, is zero.” Further to that, a study by astrophysicist Hugh Ross, based on 122 constants within this "Anthropic Principle," resulted in a probability of life being sustained anywhere within the universe of 10 to the power of 138 (that's 10 with 138 zeros behind it!). Statistically impossible. I'll highlight a few of the Anthropic Constants. Oxygen Levels: On earth, oxygen comprises 21 percent of the atmosphere. If oxygen were 25% fires would erupt spontaneously, if it were 15%, human beings would suffocate. Gravity: If the gravitational force were altered by 0.00000000000000000000000000000000000001 percent, our sun would not exist, and therefore, neither would we. Talk about precision. Speed of Light: Any of the laws of physics can be described as a function of the velocity of light (now defined to be 299,792,458 meters per second). Even a slight variation in the speed of light would alter the other constants and preclude the possibility of life on earth. The heavens certainly do declare the glory of God! In fact, it all does. Creation is permeated with the deep sense of who he is. It beckons us to wake up, to taste and see that he is good! Hidden through nature and creation are stories, echoes, testimonies of God's faithfulness, compassion, love and strength; that suffering happens, but great beauty and joy are present in all moments. Head down to your local beach; hike up a beautiful mountain; look out the window when you’re next on a plane; walk out into the sun and close your eyes and drink in its warmth, give counting the stars a go just like Abraham did, and see the glory and wonder of God inlaid in it all. “But ask the animals what they think - let them teach you; let the birds tell you what’s going on. Put your ear to the earth - learn the basics. Listen - the fish in the ocean will tell you their stories. Isn’t it clear that they all know and agree that God is sovereign, that he holds all things in his hand - Every living soul, yes, every breathing creature?” Job 12:7-10 (MSG) Everything about life is miraculous. Don’t neglect gazing into the night sky and reclaiming the wonder that it holds.
I'm not sure whether you've heard of the "Anthropic Principle" but it's one of the strongest evidences in observing the universe that suggests it is intelligently designed. It highlights the conditions absolutely necessary for living organisms to survive in our universe. Illya Prigogine (Chemical Physicist and 2 times Nobel Prize winner) says, “The statistical probability that organic structures and the most precisely harmonized reactions that typify living organisms would be generated by accident, is zero.” Further to that, a study by astrophysicist Hugh Ross, based on 122 constants within this "Anthropic Principle," resulted in a probability of life being sustained anywhere within the universe of 10 to the power of 138 (that's 10 with 138 zeros behind it!). Statistically impossible. I'll highlight a few of the Anthropic Constants. Oxygen Levels: On earth, oxygen comprises 21 percent of the atmosphere. If oxygen were 25% fires would erupt spontaneously, if it were 15%, human beings would suffocate. Gravity: If the gravitational force were altered by 0.00000000000000000000000000000000000001 percent, our sun would not exist, and therefore, neither would we. Talk about precision. Speed of Light: Any of the laws of physics can be described as a function of the velocity of light (now defined to be 299,792,458 meters per second). Even a slight variation in the speed of light would alter the other constants and preclude the possibility of life on earth. The heavens certainly do declare the glory of God! In fact, it all does. Creation is permeated with the deep sense of who he is. It beckons us to wake up, to taste and see that he is good! Hidden through nature and creation are stories, echoes, testimonies of God's faithfulness, compassion, love and strength; that suffering happens, but great beauty and joy are present in all moments. Head down to your local beach; hike up a beautiful mountain; look out the window when you’re next on a plane; walk out into the sun and close your eyes and drink in its warmth, give counting the stars a go just like Abraham did, and see the glory and wonder of God inlaid in it all. “But ask the animals what they think - let them teach you; let the birds tell you what’s going on. Put your ear to the earth - learn the basics. Listen - the fish in the ocean will tell you their stories. Isn’t it clear that they all know and agree that God is sovereign, that he holds all things in his hand - Every living soul, yes, every breathing creature?” Job 12:7-10 (MSG) Everything about life is miraculous. Don’t neglect gazing into the night sky and reclaiming the wonder that it holds.
WRITTEN IN DUST - Part 5 Our beloved story in John 8 about a woman accused of adultery is a tale of grace and mercy, and how we shouldn’t throw stones at each other, because, hey, we’d all end up dead. But it’s also so much more. This is a story about politics and resistance. About a Rabbi standing up to corrupt power structures. About how collateral damage is a phrase that we shouldn't even know because it’s so foreign to The Way of Jesus. The beautiful woman in John 8 may or may not have committed adultery. We don’t know. We know very little about her. We do know that Jesus caused a stir during the pinnacle moment of the Feast of Tabernacles (which happened in the days leading up to the happenings of John 8). While the people were praying for water and rain and providence, crying “God save us, God save us” as the priest poured water and wine onto the Altar, Jesus shouted above the crowd: "All you thirsty ones, come to me! Come to me and drink! Believe in me, so that rivers of living water will burst out from within you; flowing from your innermost being, just like the Scripture says!” (John 7:36-37.) The audacity and courage and humility of Jesus to say that at such a time is magnificent! No wonder those drunk on power hated him. No wonder they felt threatened and afraid and offended. After all, Jesus was a carpenters son, from Nazareth! Who the heck was he to suggest that people could find God on their own? The story in John 8 is really about a bunch of angry men who wanted Jesus dead and went to desperate lengths to do it. Did they stumble across a man and a woman having an affair and grasped the opportunity given them to test Jesus, to publicly put him on the spot, hoping that he would make a mistake and damage himself and his credibility in front of everyone? Or did they plan every step? What happens when you get thousands of people together, eating and drinking and sleeping in tents for over a week? It’s not hard to imagine that infidelity was easy in such a setting. Did the religious leaders encourage adultery between two unsuspecting parties? Or was the man involved on board with the plan, and struck a deal with them that he would remain anonymous? It’s also not entirely unrealistic that this woman was forced into it. Like I said, we only have the word of her accusers to go on. No matter how it happened, the woman was being used as a pawn in a plan to trap Jesus out. A situation not uncommon in our world today. What did Jesus write in the dust? He could have written Jeremiah 17, as they had recited the day or two prior: "Those who turn away from you will be written in the dust because they have forsaken the Lord, the spring of living water.” Perhaps he wrote their names, or their sins After a time, Jesus stood and said: "Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” In ancient Hebrew, if someone falsely accused someone of a crime and the person accused was executed, if they were found out, they would be charged with murder and sentenced to death, too. Jesus wasn’t just showing grace to the woman accused, he was giving these guys an out, too. Reminding them that they’re better than that. That’s there’s more at stake than reputations and power plays. Adultery, murder, and idolatry were considered crimes against humanity for our ancient Hebrew friends. That’s why they were punishable by death. They were crimes that ate away at the soul of the community, corrupting the collective spirit and health of the tribe. But death wasn’t/isn't the cure for these maladies. Jesus came to show us this. Violence begets violence, hate begets hate. But love? Compassion? Mercy? Forgiveness? These are the cure. And what winds up a person, authority, a gang, an empire, more than forgiveness? What pokes around in their mess more than grace? More than unconditional love? That’s what happened in the dust that day. Everyone was given a chance to drink.
WRITTEN IN DUST - Part 5 Our beloved story in John 8 about a woman accused of adultery is a tale of grace and mercy, and how we shouldn’t throw stones at each other, because, hey, we’d all end up dead. But it’s also so much more. This is a story about politics and resistance. About a Rabbi standing up to corrupt power structures. About how collateral damage is a phrase that we shouldn't even know because it’s so foreign to The Way of Jesus. The beautiful woman in John 8 may or may not have committed adultery. We don’t know. We know very little about her. We do know that Jesus caused a stir during the pinnacle moment of the Feast of Tabernacles (which happened in the days leading up to the happenings of John 8). While the people were praying for water and rain and providence, crying “God save us, God save us” as the priest poured water and wine onto the Altar, Jesus shouted above the crowd: "All you thirsty ones, come to me! Come to me and drink! Believe in me, so that rivers of living water will burst out from within you; flowing from your innermost being, just like the Scripture says!” (John 7:36-37.) The audacity and courage and humility of Jesus to say that at such a time is magnificent! No wonder those drunk on power hated him. No wonder they felt threatened and afraid and offended. After all, Jesus was a carpenters son, from Nazareth! Who the heck was he to suggest that people could find God on their own? The story in John 8 is really about a bunch of angry men who wanted Jesus dead and went to desperate lengths to do it. Did they stumble across a man and a woman having an affair and grasped the opportunity given them to test Jesus, to publicly put him on the spot, hoping that he would make a mistake and damage himself and his credibility in front of everyone? Or did they plan every step? What happens when you get thousands of people together, eating and drinking and sleeping in tents for over a week? It’s not hard to imagine that infidelity was easy in such a setting. Did the religious leaders encourage adultery between two unsuspecting parties? Or was the man involved on board with the plan, and struck a deal with them that he would remain anonymous? It’s also not entirely unrealistic that this woman was forced into it. Like I said, we only have the word of her accusers to go on. No matter how it happened, the woman was being used as a pawn in a plan to trap Jesus out. A situation not uncommon in our world today. What did Jesus write in the dust? He could have written Jeremiah 17, as they had recited the day or two prior: "Those who turn away from you will be written in the dust because they have forsaken the Lord, the spring of living water.” Perhaps he wrote their names, or their sins After a time, Jesus stood and said: "Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” In ancient Hebrew, if someone falsely accused someone of a crime and the person accused was executed, if they were found out, they would be charged with murder and sentenced to death, too. Jesus wasn’t just showing grace to the woman accused, he was giving these guys an out, too. Reminding them that they’re better than that. That’s there’s more at stake than reputations and power plays. Adultery, murder, and idolatry were considered crimes against humanity for our ancient Hebrew friends. That’s why they were punishable by death. They were crimes that ate away at the soul of the community, corrupting the collective spirit and health of the tribe. But death wasn’t/isn't the cure for these maladies. Jesus came to show us this. Violence begets violence, hate begets hate. But love? Compassion? Mercy? Forgiveness? These are the cure. And what winds up a person, authority, a gang, an empire, more than forgiveness? What pokes around in their mess more than grace? More than unconditional love? That’s what happened in the dust that day. Everyone was given a chance to drink.