Immediately the rooster crowed the second time. Then Peter remembered the word Jesus had spoken to him: “Before the rooster crows twice you will disown me three times.” And he broke down and wept. Mark 14:72 (NIV)
I confess, my life journey is dotted with mistakes, poor choices, and moral failures. I’ve made some doozies. Buy me a pint sometime, and I’ll tell you some stories. I assume you have a few stories of your own. I’ve never met a human being who didn’t have them. I have met a million human beings who pretend they don’t.
Today’s chapter tells two of the most epic fails in history. One is Judas, one of The Twelve disciples who betrays Jesus for cash considerations and sends the Son of God to His execution. The other is Peter, Jesus’ own appointed leader of The Twelve, who staunchly voiced his life-or-death commitment to stand faithfully by Jesus’ side no matter what happened. Then, when the prophesied events kick into high gear, Peter reneges on his promise just as Jesus’ predicted.
As I read this story again in the quiet this morning, I pondered the fact that Jesus’ knew The Twelve would abandon Him. It was prophesied by the ancient Hebrew prophet Zechariah, and Jesus quotes it. Jesus even knew the number of times Peter would deny Him and the time that it would happen. Luke adds a dramatic detail that Mark leaves out; The fact that the moment after the third denial when the rooster crows, Jesus was being led away and He looked right at Peter.
Hello Shame, my old friend.
Of course, I know the rest of the story. John shares that after the resurrection, along the very shores of Galilee where Jesus first called Peter to follow Him, Jesus would ask Peter three times to voice his love for Him. Three affirmations of love for three denials. Restoration, redemption, and the launch of a new chapter of Peter’s story.
Even our mistakes and failures are part of the Story. Jesus knew it before Peter even committed his denials.
In the quiet this morning, I can’t help but glance back at my own epic fails. They are a part of my story. They’ve taught me lessons about the depths of my own depravity, my utter need for God’s endless grace, and the blessings of repentance and redemption. Mistakes, poor choices, and moral failures. The truth is that the most important season of my life spiritually was when the rooster crowed for me, and I stopped pretending I didn’t have them.
If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.
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“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” John 16:33 (NIV)
Contrasting statements. On the desk in my office is a list of fourteen contrasting statements. These contrasting statements are key differences in understanding between members of a certain team of people. They are the source of conflict within the system and because of them, every member of the team is experiencing a lack of peace on multiple levels.
Systemic conflict lies at the heart of the Great Story. In the beginning, God creates the universe and everything in it. He caps off creation with a man and a woman, places them in the Garden, and calls it “very good.” There is shalom, the experience of wholeness, goodness, completeness, and peace. Then the evil one enters the garden and introduces both doubt and temptation to the man and woman. Interestingly, the evil one’s basic tactic in the disruption of shalom was the introduction of contrasting statements: “Did God really say…?You won’t certainly die!“
From that original sin, humanity has been yearning for shalom and God has been actively acting to restore it. That’s the Great Story in a nutshell.
In today’s chapter, we are approaching the climactic event of the entire Story. The key players are all involved. At the beginning of his account, John introduced us to Jesus as the God of Creation who came to Earth in human form. The evil one, having successfully filled the head of Judas Iscariot with contrasting statements, has put the wheels into motion to have Jesus arrested and killed. Both Jesus’ followers, His enemies, and the crowds are the humans across the spectrum of belief to whom Jesus seeks to provide restoration, redemption, and the new life of shalom.
Jesus’ followers have no idea of what’s about to happen. They are expecting the restoration of shalom the only way the world, and the Prince of this World, knows how to deliver it: gain power, exert force, suppress resistance, maintain control. God, however, had long ago tried to explain to humanity that His ways are not our ways. He will provide shalom, not by power but by suffering, not by force but by surrender, not through the suppression of resistance but through love, forgiveness, and freedom from sin and death.
Throughout Jesus’ final discourse to His followers, He continues to bring up the peace that He will provide. In the same manner, this peace is not like the peace the world seeks or promises. The shalom Jesus provides is not peace from trouble, but peace in the midst of trouble. Jesus continues to warn His followers of the trouble, persecution, resistance, and suffering that will be theirs to experience and endure. At the same time, Jesus promises them the peace of God’s Spirit to, as Paul put it to the believers in Philippi, “guard their hearts and minds” as they experience trouble and walk in Jesus’ footsteps of suffering, surrender, and love.
In the quiet this morning, my mind is on contrasting statements that don’t appear to offer a path forward. Then I think about the contrast between the world’s way and God’s way. As a disciple of Jesus, I have been provided the footsteps to follow into humility, surrender, and maybe even suffering. The way of Jesus reveals to me that death is the path to new life. And, I will find peace along this path.
I’m back on Facebook for those who liked to read my chapter-a-day posts there! Facebook refuses to give me access to my old, hacked account, but I have started a new account. Please feel free to search for me on Facebook and friend me. If Facebook won’t let you friend me, please go to my Facebook profile and “Message” me on Facebook Messenger, which should then allow me to friend you. Cheers! -Tom
If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.
Perhaps the reason he was separated from you for a little while was that you might have him back forever— no longer as a slave, but better than a slave, as a dear brother. Philemon 1:15-16 (NIV)
Just this morning I received an unexpected text from a friend asking Wendy and me to pray. Life has thrown one of those wicked curveballs and suddenly everything in life is reeling in ways that feel completely out of control. As I confessed in a poster a few days ago to having a pretty miserable week myself, I’m feeling acute empathy for my friend. Prayers have commenced for them.
When life throws a wicked curve, I always find myself asking some of the same questions:
“How did we get here?”
“Why is this happening?”
“God?! What are you doing? Don’t you care?!”
“Where is this going to lead?”
Today’s chapter is a letter that Paul wrote from prison to a wealthy friend and fellow believer. His name was Philemon (hence the title of the epistle), and he was a good friend of Paul’s, a financial supporter of Paul, and Paul had previously lived as a guest in Philemon’s home.
Philemon had a slave named Onesimus. Long story short, Onesimus stole from Philemon and made a run for freedom. While we don’t know the back story of the relationship between Onesimus and Philemon, I can assume that Onesimus’ actions amounted to throwing a wicked curveball at Philemon and his household. It would not surprise me if Philemon had written Onesimus off and harbored ill feelings towards him.
What happens next is amazing. The runaway Onesimus somehow runs right into Paul. How and why, we don’t know, but Paul graciously takes Onesimus under his wing, Onesimus becomes a believer, and Paul comes to consider the runaway his “son.”
This very tender letter is sent to Philemon in the very hands of the runaway, Onesimus. The runaway slave arrives at his former owner’s house, letter in hand. I can only imagine what emotions each of them was feeling at this reunion.
I love Paul’s letter when he communicates that perhaps there was a divine purpose in Onesimus running away. Perhaps that needed to happen so that he could run into Paul and become a believer, and ultimately bring about an unforeseen reunion, restoration, and a redemptive ending to an otherwise wicked curveball situation.
I have written many times in these posts about the Chain Reaction of Praise that Wendy and I have been practicing for years. In the heat of the moment when the curveball comes at us in what appears to be a total strikeout, we step away from the plate, take a deep breath and consciously move into “perhaps” mode. We may not see clearly, in that moment, how God might redeem our circumstances. It might even feel hopeless. But time and time again we have experienced God ultimately redeeming circumstances in ways we could never have imagined, and weaving purpose into our stories that were impossible to see when we were initially reeling in the circumstances.
In the quiet this morning, I find myself recounting all of the wicked curve balls life has thrown at me. I find myself remembering what it felt like in the moment, as well as the redemptive endings that eventually occurred in each one. In doing so, it reminds me that there is a “perhaps” to my miserable week. I just don’t see it yet.
Note to my regular readers, listeners, and subscribers! I am taking a three week vacation starting next week. While I’m gone, I’m going to be republishing the top fifteen chapter-a-day posts from 2023 as determined by the total number of page views and podcast plays. We’ll start at number 15 next Monday and end up with number 1 on Friday, February 16. See you in a few weeks!
If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.
Many years ago, I found myself in circumstances I could never have imagined. I found myself in the middle of a divorce and living in a new community. My world had suddenly turned upside down and inside out. It was a scary, tenuous, anxious, humbling, and stressful season of life.
Along this life journey, almost everyone experiences a period of wilderness. Life as we know it experiences a tectonic shift. Things get turned upside down and inside out. Wilderness could be brought on by unforeseen tragedy, the death of a loved one, war, natural disaster, divorce, loss of a job, financial loss, conflict, illness, or any number of similar life-changing events.
The psychologist Carl Jung and the scholar Joseph Cambell did a lot of work in the 20th century studying and revealing the archetypes and patterns in the epic stories of humanity. Our greatest stories reflect the core of our human experience. They resonate with us because there is something in the story that connects deeply with our human experience. I would submit that the patterns and archetypes are found in our stories because they are found in our lives.
Wilderness is one of these common themes. Here are the first five steps of the hero’s wilderness journey as Jung and Campbell outline it:
The hero’s journey starts in the Ordinary World. The hero—male or female—is “stuck,” but he or she senses some powerful, tectonic energy moving beneath the surface.
The hero receives a “call.” This may be positive—an invitation to climb Annapurna—or negative … we’re arrested and thrown in jail. Or, like Odysseus, the hero commits a crime against heaven and is “made to” undergo an ordeal of expiation. But one way or another, you and I are ejected from Normal Life and flung, willy-nilly, into Something Totally New.
The hero “crosses the threshold.” She moves from the Ordinary World to the Extraordinary World (also known as the Inverted World.) Like the children in The Chronicles of Narnia, we pass through a portal and enter a realm unlike any we have known.
The hero encounters allies and enemies, undergoes challenges and heartbreaks, temptations and overthrows. The hero suffers. The hero loses her way. The hero has been caught up in an often hellish adventure (though with some good moments too), from which no escape seems possible. The stakes are clearly life and death.
The hero perseveres. Reckoning that there’s no turning back, the hero pushes on, often blindly, almost always wracked by despair and self-doubt, seeking he or she knows not what. Escape? Redemption? A conclusion of some kind to this crazy, upside-down enterprise?
It may be lost on modern American readers, but today’s chapter is one of the most life-changing historical events in the history of the Hebrew people. The Babylonian siege of Jerusalem was a violent, horrific event. Jeremiah, who lived through it, poetically describes the carnage in the five short chapters of Lamentations. The entire nation, the King and the priests, are taken into captivity and exile in Babylon. Among the exiles were the prophet Ezekiel and a young man named Daniel. Their stories, respectively, are rooted in their experiences in the Babylonian wilderness, along with the story of Esther.
The wilderness, Jung and Campbell explain, always has a purpose in making the hero the hero. It is in the wilderness the hero faces the darkness, the villain, their own fear, and/or seemingly insurmountable odds. It is in the wilderness that the hero experiences an “all is lost” moment, and it is in the wilderness that the hero eventually experiences an important epiphany and is ultimately led back home, a different person with a “gift.” Judah’s return from wilderness and exile is told in the books of Nehemiah and Ezra.
In the quiet this morning, God’s Spirit has brought to mind people I know who are experiencing seasons of wilderness in their own life journeys. I look back on my own season of wilderness and I can see the things I had to face, the lessons God had for me in it, and what a positive difference it ultimately made in my life and my spiritual journey. If I could write a letter to my past self in the midst of that wilderness, I would tell my struggling self to trust the story God is authoring in my story, to persevere one step at a time, and to know that good things, redemptive things, lie ahead.
My seasons of wilderness have taught me that God is more interested in developing my character than in facilitating my comfort.
If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.
Before the spies lay down for the night, [Rahab] went up on the roof and said to them, “I know that the Lord has given you this land and that a great fear of you has fallen on us, so that all who live in this country are melting in fear because of you…for the Lord your God is God in heaven above and on the earth below.“ Joshua 2:8-9,11b (NIV)
I have often commented that God blessed me by surrounding me with strong women throughout my entire life journey. When I sat down to pen my first words to my grandson, that’s what I wrote about. When I was in high school I was blessed to have a history teacher who made the status of women a core part of the curriculum. That laid the foundation for me to begin to appreciate just how difficult life has been for women, and it still is in many ways. It’s taken me a long time of living with and walking the life journey with good women to grow in that understanding. I haven’t arrived, by the way. I’m still learning.
In today’s chapter, we meet one of the most amazing, underappreciated characters in all of the Great Story. Perhaps one of the reasons this person is underappreciated is that she was a woman, a prostitute, a sex worker, a woman of ill-repute. She was the kind of woman that doesn’t get mentioned by name in polite society. She’s “that” woman, and she lived in an ancient, walled city called Jericho. The walled city-state was just across the Jordan River from where Joshua and the Hebrew people were camped and poised on conquest.
Espionage is as old as war itself, and the newly appointed leader of the Hebrew people, Joshua, sends spies into Jericho to case the joint. It would not have been at all odd for two road-weary male travelers to enter a city and high-tail it to the red light district in search of a prostitute. That’s exactly what they did. They entered “that woman’s” house.
Now the twelve Hebrew tribes have been nomads for 40 years, continually growing in population. Scholars estimate that there were hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of Hebrew people along with their flocks and herds. It is what scholars call the Late Bronze Age and in the land of Canaan life is a dog-eat-dog world of peoples and city-states conquering one another. The people of Jericho are well aware that the Hebrew hoard is camped on the other side of the Jordan. They have heard the stories of the miraculous escape from Egypt and of the Hebrew exploits in Sinai. In their world gods were one of a myriad of deities typically associated with a specific town or region. The Hebrews had this one mysterious, invisible God that traveled with them; The God who brought mighty Pharaoh to his knees and held back the seas.
“That woman” knew who these men were, as did others who saw the spies enter the city gate and enter “that woman’s” house.
“That woman” does two important things as she speaks with the Hebrew spies. First, she makes a statement of faith, proclaiming to her clandestine visitors that she believes the God of the Hebrews is the God of heaven and earth. Second, she acts on that faith by offering to hide the spies and save their lives, asking only that they return the favor to her and her family when Jericho falls.
She believed, and she acted on that belief.
“That woman” the Canaanite foreigner. “That woman” the prostitute. She has a name. Her name is Rahab, and her name appears, not only in today’s chapter but also in a couple of very important places in the Great Story.
Rahab is named in Jesus’ family tree. (Matthew 1:5)
Rahab is mentioned by the author of Hebrews in his “Faith Hall of Fame.” (Hebrews 11:13)
Rahab is mentioned by James as an example of faith in action. (James 2:25)
In the quiet this morning, find myself thinking about the fact that a foreign, female, pagan, prostitute became a pivotal character in the Great Story. Rahab checks all the boxes of a person who doesn’t measure up on humanity’s religious status scale. Rahab foreshadows what Jesus said that He came to do: to tear down humanity’s religious status scale altogether and to save and redeem anyone who believes and acts on that belief regardless of gender, race, language, nation, tribe, creed, or broken, sinful past. No matter who a person is, where they are from, or what they have done, redemption is sitting there for any who believe and act on that belief.
I also find myself thinking about the amazing, underappreciated women in my story, and I’m whispering a prayer of gratitude for each one.
If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.
Then God remembered Rachel; he listened to her and enabled her to conceive. She became pregnant and gave birth to a son and said, “God has taken away my disgrace.” She named him Joseph, and said, “May the Lord add to me another son.” Genesis 30:22-24 (NIV)
One of the things Wendy and I have enjoyed doing the past year or so is to watch some of the epic film series in order. This summer we watched all eleven movies of the Star Wars canon in the chronological order of the story arc. We’ve begun doing this with the Marvel Universe.
One of the things that she and I have discussed about the Harry Potter films, in particular, is that they were written and produced with a fatal flaw. None of the films’ writers and directors knew the entire story until the final installment because they were produced as the story was still being told. There was, therefore, important story elements in the earlier books that were important threads to the larger story, but those telling the particular episode of the epic didn’t know this or couldn’t see it.
Along my journey, I’ve observed a common flaw with those who read and study the Great Story. It’s easy to get lost in the minutiae of the immediate episode I’m reading that I lose sight that this episode is a thread in the larger theme that the Author of Life is telling.
Today’s chapter contains two stories that can be, quite frankly, head-scratchers. Both episodes of Jacob’s story flashback to earlier events and they foreshadow important elements of the story to come.
The first episode is a great birthing contest between sisters Leah and Rachel, both wives of Jacob. The second is Jacob’s deceptive scheme to increase his herds at his uncle’s expense.
In the culture of that day, providing your husband with a male heir was of utmost importance. In fact, a wife who did not produce a son by a prescribed period of time could nullify the marriage. In many cases, a wife lived with her father’s house until she did produce a male heir. The rivalry between sisters fuels their desire to win favor by producing sons for Jacob. Rachel’s barrenness and her demand that Jacob bear sons by her servant are flashbacks to Grandma Sarah who did the same thing. Likewise, Jacob’s shrewd deceit of his Uncle Laban in increasing his flocks hearkens back to the theme of deceit that pervades Rebekah’s family and Jacob’s life.
The story also foreshadows important elements in the story to come. Of all the sons born to Jacob, two are going to figure prominently in the rest of Genesis and in the history of the twelve tribes of Israel. Leah’s son, Judah will lead the tribe from which King David and the future Messiah will come. Rachel’s firstborn, Joseph, will live a life of exile and redemption, ultimately saving the entire family and becoming the conduit through which the next major chapter of the Great Story will be told.
The forest that is often lost in the trees of this story is the covenant God gave Abraham to expand his descendants and bless all the nations of the earth. The blessing that Jacob is part of. The birthing contest, with all of its human flaws, conflict, and intrigue, is going to exponentially increase Abraham’s descendants. The many sons of Jacob will become the twelve tribes of Israel.
In the quiet this morning, I find myself again contemplating the fact that the Great Story is being told through flawed, sinful human beings. I can look at each character from Abraham to Rachel and find character flaws, sins, and mistakes. Yet, with the exception of Jesus, that’s true of every human character in the Great Story.
That’s true of me.
Jacob, Rachel, and Leah are part of the larger story of Abraham’s covenant. Abraham’s covenant is part of the larger story of God redeeming fallen humanity. With no one to use but sinful human beings, God weaves the storyline through human failings, ultimately redeeming them in the larger work of ultimate redemption which is the meta-theme of the Great Story itself.
And, in the quiet this morning, I take comfort in that. In this way, I am Jacob. I am Rachel. I am Rebekah and Laban. Jesus placed His ministry into the hands of twelve flawed human beings which they passed on to other flawed human beings, and it has passed from flawed human being to flawed human being until it ultimately reached me.
I am a flawed human, but that does not disqualify me from playing my role in this penultimate drama. It does not cancel me in God’s eyes. It merely makes me part of the meta-theme of redemption, just like every other human in the Great Story.
I recently heard that the great actor, Alan Rickman, was considering quitting the role of Severus Snape in the series of Harry Potter films because Snape seemed like a one-dimensional, irredeemably bad character. J.K. Rowling pulled him aside to explain the powerful, redemptive role that Snape plays in the epic, which does not become fully clear until the end. Gratefully, he stuck with the role.
Sometimes, the seemingly irredeemable characters are essential to the ultimate story of redemption.
If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.
Now return the man’s wife, for he is a prophet, and he will pray for you and you will live. Genesis 20:7 (NIV)
I have been fascinated to watch the hoopla over the past several days as the latest victim of cancel culture falls from public favor. When I was young, it was institutional churches and fundamentalist Christians who were bemoaned, and rightfully so, for being judgmental and ostracizing sinners. With cancel culture, I observe that the pendulum has swung to the opposite side of the social and political spectrum. Witch hunts comb people’s past with a fine-toothed comb to find any evidence of past impropriety based on today’s rigid social mores of woke culture.
Just yesterday, I happened upon a YouTube video of a man telling his story. When he was a young husband and father he flatlined during surgery for twenty minutes. He had never publicly shared the story of his near death experience until this video. His experience was variation on the themes of the stories of others I listened to who have experienced this. One of the common themes of those who’ve died and returned is the experience of having their life flash before their eyes, or to have it replayed.
The gentleman in this video was completely alone as this happened. He saw all of his life. There were moments that made him feel joy and nostalgia. Then there were the flawed moments, the poor choices, and tragic mistakes. “I was all alone,” he said describing the moment. “There was no reason to make excuses. No reason to deny it. I did those things and I had to own it.” Before crossing over, he was told that it wasn’t his time and he had other things he needed to do. His spirit returned to his body.
Today’s chapter is a reprise of circumstances we encountered earlier in Abraham’s journey. He enters foreign territory and fears for his life. Apparently, his wife Sarah was quite a catch even in old age. Abraham fears the local king will kill him and take Sarah and everything he owns. So he plays the “She’s my sister” card. The local king takes Sarah into his harem which could mess up the covenant promise God has now been making for eight chapters. God intervenes by way of a dream and tells the king to send Sarah back to Abraham, stating that Abraham is a prophet and God has plans for them. God then releases the King from any guilt and the King, in turn, showers Abraham with gifts out of fear for God.
As I contemplated this story, the first thing that struck me was that Abraham acts deceptively out of fear rather than trusting that God would honor His covenant and protect him and Sarah. This is the second time he’s done this. It’s an obvious blind spot that is disrespectful to his wife, unfaithful to God, and could fubar everything God has promised.
The second thing that struck me was God’s grace with everyone in the story. God graciously redeems the entire situation. Not one of the players in this deception are judged or punished. The fact is that God called a fallen human being to be His prophet. Abraham is a dude just like me; He’s given to flawed moments, poor choices, and tragic mistakes.
In the quiet this morning, I’m thankful for two things.
First, I’m thankful that I’m a nobody and that I’m not on cancel culture’s radar. Scour my past and you’ll find plenty of reason to cancel me. I’ve been a work in progress from an early age and I’m still at it. Like the dead man in the video, there’s no denying it or excusing it. I own it.
Second, I’m thankful that God, unlike many of His self-righteous followers past and present, is gracious and forgiving. The overarching theme of the Great Story is that of redemption, not cancellation. If God operated like cancel culture there would be no hope for me.
If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.
More than "Boy Meets Girl" (CaD Ruth 2) –
Wayfarer
So [Ruth] went out, entered a field and began to glean behind the harvesters. As it turned out, she was working in a field belonging to Boaz, who was from the clan of Elimelek. Just then Boaz arrived from Bethlehem and greeted the harvesters, “The Lord be with you!” Ruth 2:3-4 (NIV)
When I told Wendy yesterday that I’d begun the story of Ruth, her response was, “Oh good! I love the story of Ruth!” I was not surprised by this. In fact, I mentioned it because I knew she would be pleased. When Wendy and I were married, we wrote our own vows. Her vows to me included Ruth’s vow to Naomi:
“Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God.”
The story of Ruth often resonates deeply with women. It’s a boy meets girls story, and it is basically an ancient version of the film Pretty Woman. Destitute young woman who is a societal outcast and pariah meets older man of means. As I’m fond of saying: “All good stories are reflections of the Great Story.”
But there’s more going on under the surface of the boy meets girl romance in the story of Ruth. Ruth is a story of redemption, and it’s important for 21st century readers to understand a bit of context.
The early chapters of the Great Story are about God calling one man, Abraham, and growing his descendants into a nation. That doesn’t happen overnight, but over centuries as Abraham’s grandson has twelve male sons/grandsons who become leaders of tribes (the story of Abraham through Jacob and his sons is told in Genesis). Those tribes then become slaves in Egypt for 400 years before Moses led their deliverance. Then God has the difficult task of turning slaves who have had zero autonomy, freedom, or education for generations into a fully functioning nation. To facilitate this, God give them His law through Moses (this story is told in the books of Exodus and Leviticus). What’s utterly fascinating about the law of Moses is that it is an ancient blueprint for how a nation and society should function lawfully and it prescribes ways for managing common societal ills including immigration, incurable and infectious diseases, and poverty. Those issues sound familiar?
Having a blueprint is one thing. Actually convincing a couple of million former slaves in the brutal world of the ancient near east to actually implement it is another. The time of the Judges, in which this Pretty Woman story of Ruth takes place, is a time when the implementation is failing miserably. This new nation remains a tribal system with no central leadership, violent wars and feuds within and without, and little adherence to the laws and blueprint God had given them.
In today’s chapter, we’re introduced the prototype of Richard Gere’s character in Pretty Woman. We learn that Boaz is a “guardian-redeemer” or “kinsman-redeemer.” This was part of the societal blueprint God gave through Moses. Men in each family clan within each tribe were appointed as “redeemers” to care for those in their clan who’d been dealt a bad hand. The law required leaving part of your field unharvested so the poor in your clan could glean food for themselves. It required the redeemer to buy-back (e.g. “redeem”) clan members who, because of poverty, had been sold into slavery. It required them to help widows of child-bearing years to bear heirs who would then be responsible to care for them so they wouldn’t become a drain on the nation at large. Only, men in the time of the Judges were not known for living up to their responsibility or following the blueprint.
Boaz is far more than just a dashing figure with salt-and-pepper hair who looks good in an Armani suit and Julia Roberts on his arm. The first thing we hear from Boaz is his greeting to his own servants: “The Lord be with you.” Boaz is, first-and-foremost, God’s man, and that lays the foundation for the rest of the story. At a time when not following God and His blueprint led the nation into repeated chaos, violence, war, and tragedy, Boaz represents how when those with status, wealth, and power within the system trust God and faithfully follow the blueprint, they become agents of redemption and the entire society benefits.
In the quiet this morning, I can’t help but think about a larger conversation going on right now within our culture in which the Christian church is accused of not following Jesus’ blueprint of caring for “the least of these.” I won’t deny that this is true, though I believe that it is a broad-brush, black-and-white generalization that completely paints over the tremendous work of sincere followers of Jesus, throughout history, who fulfill Jesus’ mission of caring for the marginalized and improving life and humanity on earth.
I also can’t help but think about Boaz. He’s simply one faithful believer who is obedient within his clan. He may not be altering the course of the entire nation in those dark times, but he is altering the course of Ruth, Naomi, his clan, and his community. Boaz is an agent of redemption within his circles of influence. Imagine if there was one Boaz in every clan in every tribe in that day?
I often read the headlines over coffee with Wendy in the morning and enter my day feeling impotent to make a difference in the national and global problems plaguing the world. This morning, I’m reminded that I have the power and ability to be a Boaz.
“Be a Boaz.” That’s the cry of my heart as I enter this day.
If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.
“Don’t call me Naomi,” she told them. “Call me Mara, because the Almighty has made my life very bitter. I went away full, but the Lord has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi? The Lord has afflicted me; the Almighty has brought misfortune upon me.” Ruth 1:20-21 (NIV)
Along my journey, I’ve known many people who I would describe as having been dealt a bad hand in this life. I have experienced multipole stretches of the journey in which I felt I was dealt a bad hand. There are unexpected tragedies, unforeseen illnesses, and circumstances that come out of left field. As I ponder things, I feel as if the entire world got dealt a bad hand the past year-and-a-half. It’s one of the realities of this earthly journey. Despite all the wonderful promises of name-it-and-claim-it televangelists, the Sage of Ecclesiastes reminds us of a hard reality: in this life there are times and seasons when things like death, war, tearing, weeping, searching, relational distance, mourning, and hate are our experience. In every time and season, we have to play the hand we’re dealt.
Today we begin the short story of Ruth, one of only two books of Great Story named after women. Ruth is one of a select handful of women mentioned in the genealogy of Jesus, so her story is a meaningful chapter in the Great Story. It is set in the dark period of time known as the time of the Judges. The story begins with a woman, Naomi, to whom God deals and incredibly bad hand.
There is a famine in the land, and Naomi’s husband leads her and her sons to the foreign land of Moab in a search to find food. At first, it appears that they’re playing their cards right. They settle in, have food, and even find Moabite wives for their sons. There was nothing illegal with Hebrew men marrying Moabite women, though it will certainly raise some orthodox, prejudicial eyebrows if and when they should return home to the little town of Bethlehem (yep, that Bethlehem).
Then there’s a change in seasons, just like the Sage reminds us. Naomi’s husband dies. Then both of her sons die. For a woman in the dark age of the Judges, this was the worst hand God could deal her. Widows had no status, no viable means of income, and there was no social structure to provide for their needs. Naomi’s situation is essentially hopeless.
Naomi recognizes that the situation for her daughters-in-law is not as dire. They are young, beautiful, and have child-bearing years ahead of them. She urges them to “fold” their hand, stay in Moab, and trust that their local Moabite god will deal them a new and better hand. One takes her up on the offer, but Ruth chooses to ante up, stick with Naomi, stick with Naomi’s God, and see this hand through. On the surface, this is a bad decision. Being a Moabite widow in Bethlehem and expecting a positive result is about the longest odds one could imagine in the context of the times.
Sure enough, widow Naomi’s return to Bethlehem with her foreign, widowed daughter-in-law, has the two buzzing with gossip. Naomi sums up her situation by asking people to call her by a different name:
“Don’t call me Naomi,” she told them. “Call me Mara (which means “bitter”), because the Almighty has made my life very bitter. I went away full, but the Lord has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi? The Lord has afflicted me; the Almighty has brought misfortune upon me.”
Bitter. What a great word for those times when I suddenly find myself playing a bad hand in life. Bitter at God. Bitter with the situation. Bitter that others seem to have it easier than me. Bitter that all the televangelist’s prophesies of my prosperity and the self-help guru’s promises of my success turn out to be null and void. Bitter that God dealt me this hand when He could have dealt me something different.
In the quiet this morning, I feel for Naomi, I mean Mara the Queen of bitter. I find myself recalling some of my top-ten bitter moments of this life journey even as I admit not one of them was nearly as dire or life-threatening as Naomi and Ruth. At the same time, I’m reminded that the Great Story is ultimately a redemption story that is layered with redemption stories. The way stories work, you can’t experience redemption without first experiencing the bitter. The bitter hand is the pre-requisite of redemption. I don’t experience the latter without the former.
It’s one of the lessons I’ve learned along this journey of following Jesus. When dealt a bad hand, never fold, because that assures perpetual bitterness. Playing out my hand is the only path to redemption, even against the longest of odds.
If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.
Praise the LORD! Blessed are those who fear the Lord, who find great delight in his commands. Psalm 112:1 (NIV)
I happen to be in the middle of a rather large project for a client. Our company has been helping them design, develop, launch, and implement a Quality Assessment (QA) program for their company. You know, the ol’ “Your call may be monitored for training and coaching purposes“? That’s a big chunk of what I do.
So it was this weekend that I’ve been deep in the weeds producing some training to introduce the program to my client’s front-line team members. One of the things I stated in the training is that you always want to build a QA program with the goal in mind, and in this case, the goal is to actually achieve the client’s corporate Mission and Vision statement.
Many years ago, as my life was emerging from the ash heap I had made of it, I happened upon today’s chapter, Psalm 112. I remember reading the lyrics to this ancient Hebrew song and realizing that it described the person I want to become and to be on this earthly journey. I remember thinking that day, “When this journey’s over and my number is up, I would hope that when friends and loved ones gather to celebrate my homecoming they could read Psalm 112 and say, ‘THAT was Tom.'”
“Blessed…” (vs. 1) I have been blessed in so many ways, and never want to lose sight of that or fail to acknowledge it and be grateful for the grace given to me that my life doesn’t merit.
“Children mighty in the land…” (vs. 2) I want to leave a legacy, not of earthly accomplishments, wealth, and fame, but children, grandchildren, and descendants whose life journeys walk the path of Psalm 112, as well.
“Wealth and riches are in their houses…” (vs. 3) I never thought of this as a monetary blessing, but a spiritual one. Jesus said, “Don’t seek treasure on earth where it can be stolen, decay, and where you will leave it behind for all eternity. Seek eternal spiritual treasure that can’t be stolen. It doesn’t rot, and it will profit you through all eternity.” As a follower of Jesus, that’s the goal. That said, It also reminds me that if I manage my blessings and resources with the wisdom and the principles found in the Great Story, I will likely be just fine from a financial perspective. I haven’t arrived, by the way. I’m still in process.
“Even in darkness light dawns…” (vs. 4) “They have no fear of bad news. Their hearts are secure, trusting in the Lord…” (vs. 7) “Their hearts are secure. They will have no fear…” (vs. 8) As an Enneagram Type Four, my core temperament always fights pessimism. Ironic, then, that God led me into a career in which my monthly and annual income is an ever-changing sum and has never been a sure-thing that secured by a corporation, a government, or a union (even though even that sense of security is ultimately an illusion). Recently I told our daughter that I perpetually assume that I’m one day away from living in a van down by the river. These words from Psalm 112 have become a spiritual bulwark against my pessimistic personality. It gives me an anchor in life’s “Chain Reaction of Praise” moments. I haven’t arrived, by the way. I’m still in process.
“…for those who are gracious, compassionate, righteous.” (vs. 4) “Good will come to those who are generous and lend freely, who conduct their affairs with justice…” (vs. 5) “They have freely scattered their gifts to the poor…” (vs. 9) Much of my life journey has been marked by a scarcity mentality. Along the way, I have come to realize that this has come from the perfect storm of my Type 4 personality, the realities of growing up as the youngest sibling, and growing up in a home in which my needs were always met, but there was never had a lot of financial margin. Psalm 112 and it’s repeated call to grace, compassion, generosity, and justice has been instrumental in helping me grow out of my scarcity thought-patterns and into the loving generosity that Jesus asks of me. I haven’t arrived, by the way. I’m still in process.
“…their righteousness endures forever.” (vs. 3) “Surely the righteous will never be shaken; they will be remembered forever...” (vs. 6) “…their righteousness endures forever; their horn will be lifted high in honor.” (vs. 9) As I grew up, there was a period of time in which the women from my mother’s family would gather together. They would feast, laugh, share memories, and honor my great-grandmother, Grandma Daisy. Grandma Daisy Day made an impression on me as a kid. It revealed to me the legacy and impression that my maternal clan’s matriarch made on her descendants through her faith, love, grace, and generosity. She died pretty much penniless after a life dotted with tragedy and struggle. Her eternal bank account was full, and the legacy she left on her descendants was priceless. That’s the kind of legacy I’d like to leave behind, as well.
In the quiet this morning, I am celebrating the impression Psalm 112 has had on my life journey. It’s memorized, and etched in my soul. I have the song title inked on my right bicep, where it reminds me that my strength lies in becoming the person Psalm 112 describes.
It’s good reminder on this “reset” day that Monday is on a weekly basis and I’m heading back into life’s fray.
