At the gate

Maybe Uncle Eli had dropped him a little roughly today but Samuel was always glad that someone carried him to the gate. He settled himself into his familiar spot, anxious for his day to begin.

Behind him, the doors of the gate rose majestically. It took several men to push wide the gigantic gates and Samuel always marveled at the ornate bronze plating illuminating the wood. These were beautiful gates and he knew that many people would soon be making their way through them into the temple.

Samuel had never seen inner part of the temple, although he often tried to imagine it. He’d understood all his life that he’d never go in. His legs were crippled at birth, making him unclean. He could never enter the temple to worship. His focus was always to learn his trade well.

“Alms!” he cried out suddenly as a cluster of people approached. Jews, he knew, were encouraged to give to the poor as part of their worship. And he heard the sound of coins clattering into his basket.

The sun was shining brightly, warming Samuel. He pushed his limp legs out to make his uncleanness even more evident.

He saw two men approaching the gate. “Alms for the poor!” he called out.

Then he heard a strong voice: “Look at us.” Samuel was confused, for he knew his uncleanness was repulsive to most. The people ignored him, tossing in a coin to meet their worship duty, before marching into the temple courts. He had learned to keep his eyes down.

“We have no gold or silver,” the man said to him. Samuel glanced at the second man and then back to the first. Why was this man addressing Samuel if he had no alms?

“But what I have, I give to you.” He strode to Samuel’s side and extended his hand. When Samuel gripped his hand, the man lifted him to his feet. “In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk.”

Fear shook Samuel but then he realized that he was standing. His legs were no longer weak. He took a step.

“What…” Samuel couldn’t speak for a moment. And then the reality of these muscular legs filled him. He tested them. He walked, ran, jumped. They worked.

But suddenly a greater reality hit him. He could enter the temple now. He was no longer unclean.

Walking and leaping and praising God, he joined the two men in the temple to worship.

He didn’t understand fully, but he knew that this Jesus Christ had removed his uncleanness so that he could go into the presence of God.

For Samuel, the worship had only begun.

One Israel?

Yesterday, we discussed Achan's disobedience which led to a shocking defeat for Joshua's army at Ai. Achan and his entire family died because of his greediness. Did you ever think that was unfair? They hadn't done the crime but they got the punishment.

Israel had a different understanding of community than we do here in America. When God told Joshua, "Israel has sinned," we in America would rise up to shout: "NO! Achan sinned." We would stew over the 36 soldiers who died at Ai because God found disobedience in Israel. Wasn't that unfair to them?

But Israel did understand, for the Hebrews knew the idea of unity better than we do. They rose and fell as one. When one sinned, they all sinned. When one was punished, they were all punished. When one was honored, they were all honored.

This corporate identity is foreign to those of us raised on cultural independence. But it's important as we follow Jesus. Paul in his letter to the Roman church explained that sin entered the world through one man, Adam. (See Romans 5)

We understand that to mean that we are all infected with the same sin nature because of Adam's sin. But, if sin came to us through one man, then redemption also came to us through one man.

If we're all free agents and lone rangers, then Jesus' work on the cross wouldn't apply to us. We may treasure independence and rights, but we need to set that aside to understand God's work for us.

Consequently, just as the result of one trespass was condemnation for all men, so also the result of one act of righteousness was justification that brings life for all men. (Romans 5:18)

Lighting the Reformation

Some said Johhan Tetzel could redeem the sins of the dead, if only you had enough coins. "When the money clangs in the box, the souls spring up to heaven," Tetzel said, soothing the consciences of many around Wittenburg, Germany.

It was October 31, 1517 when a simple professor and monk protested the redemption-by-payment, called indulgences, in a letter to his church superiors.

Martin Luther's first complaint stated clearly his position: forgiveness of sins was from Jesus Christ, not from the clergy. One of his points cut sharply into the pope's authority to forgive: "The pope cannot remit any guilt, except by declaring and showing that it has been remitted by God."

Forgiveness of sins, according to Luther, was God's work and not that of church authorities.

As a professor of Theology, Luther gave lectures on Galatians, Romans, Hebrews and Psalms. In the study for those lectures, he discovered truth in God's word.

Luther's protests of indulgences put the match to the dry pile of tinder that had been gathering for centuries. Corruption within the church had rendered it more of an international business than a spiritual haven. Forgiveness was available to those with the money and offices were exchanged for wealth.

No one at the time thought Luther would lead a reformation of Christian beliefs and practices. He himself wanted only to correct the church. But people were fed up with the Church's corruption and rallied behind Luther's teachings.

A hundred years before, men died for what Luther was proclaiming, but the time was right. God raised up a courageous man to speak truth from God's Word.

Ruth: Finally

The wonder of Ruth captivates me. The story is rich. A woman is stripped of her security and family, blaming God. A foreigner commits to a place and a people she does not know, because of God. A rich man protects relatives he only met, because of his faith in God.

We start the book of Ruth reading a list of names. We close the book in the same way. But the second list is more memorable, for it leads us to King David and ultimately to Jesus.

Men with clay feet, fearful and sickly, were replaced by a heritage of dignity and vigor. Naomi trusted her husband and sons to provide, but learned that that God’s provision is more wondrous.

This is much more than a sweet romance about two people who did the right thing and were rewarded. This is a powerful story about people drawn to health and restoration by God’s compassion and sovereignty.

Nations and lineages were redeemed in God’s plan.

Ruth is a book to encourage us to do as Ruth did: commit with all our heart and all our mind and all our soul and all our strength. For we have seen God work.

Ruth: Full Circle

In the first chapter of the book of Ruth, as Naomi returned to Bethlehem, she was greeted by a chorus of women, who greeted her: “Can this be Naomi?”

Maybe they didn’t expect to see her again. Or perhaps she was changed by time and grief.

In any case, Naomi responded with blame and bitterness: “Don’t call me Naomi. My name is now Mara (bitter).”

We can see a bit of a play on words in this exchange. The women were asking if this was Naomi, whose name meant pleasant. Naomi replied: I’m not pleasant but bitter.

But Naomi comes full circle by the end of the book. Again, the women greet her. This time, in Ruth 4:14, they don’t ask her a question but deliver a truth:
“Praise the Lord, who has not left you without a family redeemer today.” (Ruth 4:14)

This chorus of women is a used as a device to reveal Naomi’s state. Where they once questioned Naomi’s condition – and she saw herself as misused and bitter – now they declare to her a new state: blessed.

Where she thought God had stolen away her family, these women remind her that he has instead miraculously restored a family to her.

The text calls the new baby the son of Naomi, which legally would have been true. Under the law, this new son would replace her husband and sons, providing her with the protection she needed.

Naomi was redeemed. And the women joyfully deliver the good news to her: God, whom you assumed had stolen away your life, has instead restored it. Praise the Lord.

Ruth: Rescuing a Line

Last week, we reviewed Perez’ story. If you remember, Perez was the son of Judah and his daughter-in-law, Tamar. The connection to Ruth is simple: Boaz was in the line of Perez.

And isn’t it interesting that Perez’ story includes the same kind of kinsman-redeemer emphasis that we see in Ruth? Perez is a key element in our narrative of Ruth.

Let’s look at the redemption of a line.

Before we assume I mean Tamar was the one who needed the redemption, I want to point out a few things. First, sexual mores then were a little different than today. We don’t have any provisions today for a kinsman-redeemer and probably find the idea of a man sleeping with his brother’s widow just to produce a child for the dead brother to be rather repulsive. The Israelites did not. There was honor in that redemptive act.

Second, Judah himself declared that Tamar was more righteous than he was. His first assumption was that she had prostituted herself. When learning that she had only sought what was her legal right, he recognized his own shortcoming. It was he who had failed, not Tamar. He had not fulfilled his duty to her and was thus cheating her. Remember that a woman in those days was completed by child-bearing. When Judah refused to allow her to bear children, he became a swindler.

This is an important link to our story in Ruth because Perez is mentioned twice at the end of the story. First, the women blessing Boaz invoke Perez’ heritage. And then Perez was listed first in the genealogy of Obed. That was an intentional clue: Perez’ story was important in our understanding of Ruth.

Boaz re-cast Perez’ reputation. This son of Judah, born out of his father’s refusal to redeem, became the first name of the genealogy of King David.

The parallels between Tamar and Ruth are amazing. Both were childless widows who took initiative to bring about fullness in childbearing. They did not wait forever but took action and were joined together as only four women listed in Jesus’ lineage.

Ruth and Boaz both performed redemption for their family line. Each fulfilled his duty as a family member and restored to the descendants what had been lost. Their honor and sense of responsibility recovered a lost heritage.

Ruth: Perez?

Ruth’s marriage to Boaz represented a joining of two lines from Abraham who had divided from each other. In uniting with Boaz, Ruth was the mother of Obed. This marriage of Moab and Israel produced a union of two family lines producing not only King David, the greatest king of Israel, but also Jesus, the Messiah.

We’ve seen how Ruth was redeemed from her Moab roots and how God restored the rift of Moab and Israel.

But let’s not overlook Boaz. He was in the line of Perez. We’re told that in Ruth 4:18. Why Perez? Boaz was in the line of a number of people so why was Perez highlighted? That alone signals that we should check into Perez.

There’s a fascinating story behind Perez. If we go back to Genesis 38, we see a story that carries some eerie foreshadowing. In Genesis, we meet Judah, son of Israel, brother of Joseph. He had two sons near the same age. The first married a young woman named Tamar, a local girl--a foreigner by Israelite thinking.

When this first son, Er, died, Judah gave Tamar his second son, Onan. That was according to the custom of the redeemer-kinsman. Onan’s job was to provide Tamar with a child to carry on Er’s name. Onan refused to sire a child and then he died as well.

Because of the redeemer-kinsman law, Judah was required to provide Tamar with another son. Judah’s third son, Shelah, was apparently only a boy, not old enough to father a child. So Judah asked Tamar to wait until Shelah was older. And she did.

Judah, however, didn’t keep his end of the deal. Tamar learned that Shelah was a grown man but Judah hadn’t sent him to Tamar. By this time, Judah’s wife had died as well. After a time of grieving, Judah returned to his work. Tamar took initiative at this point. Upon hearing that Judah was off to shear sheep, she changed out of her widow clothes and disguised herself, sitting at the side of the road.

She may have only gone there to spy on Judah, to see for herself that he had not kept his end of the deal. Maybe she hoped he would see her and discuss things with her. Maybe she planned to speak to him.

At any rate, he mistook her for a temple prostitute and offered to sleep with her. Tamar may have seen the answer to her dilemma in that request. Judah himself could be the kinsman-redeemer to her. She was no fool. She requested evidence of his identification. And she became pregnant by him. The result of that union was twins: Zerah and Perez.

Boaz was of the line of Perez. We know this story is significant to the story of Ruth.

Next time: redemption of a line

Ruth: A Sad Story

Last week, we looked at the split between Lot and Abraham, with Lot moving into territory that included Sodom and Gomorrah.

Our purposes don’t require a long look at that tragic story. We know that Lot and his family moved into Sodom, surrounded by wickedness. Lot, his wife and two daughters were rescued just before God sent fiery judgment to the two cities.


Lot and his daughters hid in a cave in the hills. Apparently their fear was great, for it didn’t seem that they intended to come out for a long time. This leads us to an odd little story in Gen 19:31-38 that makes us a little squeamish.


In that story, the two daughters, convinced that they would never leave the cave and bear children, got their father drunk and seduced him.


Lot’s two daughters believed themselves to be barren. They had no access to “seed” and they took matters into their own hands. Both became pregnant by their father and bore sons.


The second son was named Ammon. The first son was called Moab.


We are, through this story, introduced to the founders of two nations that later would be enemies of Israel. Moab would grow up to found the Moabite people and thus was the great-great-great-grandfather of Ruth. (There aren’t enough “great’s” there but you get the idea.)


The Moabites had at different times raided Israel and oppressed the people. There was much brokenness between the two ancient clans. A Moabite would not be received as a friend and Ruth probably faced much wariness from the residents of Bethlehem.


Isn’t God’s hand amazing, however? Ruth represented an enemy to the Israelites. She represented brokenness, oppression, idolatry – the things true of Moab. But Ruth had renounced her heritage to serve the true God. So Ruth instead represented the reconciliation of brokenness between Moab and Israel. The pattern was set in Ruth’s life as God brought together two factions who were driven apart by sin (incest) but restored in the child, Obed.


Boaz represented Israel: Ruth represented Moab. Two nations ripped apart by the consequences of sin, bruised from many years of brokenness and fighting, were brought together in these two people. Stubborn faith carried Ruth to Bethlehem and sustained her until the time was right. Their marriage – their child – represented a mending of a slash that had stained these two nations for centuries.


Ruth and Boaz were reconcilers who began a heritage leading first to the man who established the safe boundaries for Israel, King David, and then to the ultimate Reconciler, Jesus the Messiah.

Ruth: Redeeming Heritage

To help us understand another thread of Ruth, we will journey back to the time of Abraham, nearly 1000 years before Ruth. Do you remember the story? God asked Abraham to leave his homeland of Ur and travel to a new promised land. Abraham faithfully set out with his family – his wife, Sarah, and his nephew, Lot. They eventually arrived in Canaan, where they settled with God’s promise.

God promised to make a great nation out of Abraham’s offspring. He promised to bless Abraham and his descendants. This is ironic because at this point, Abraham had no offspring. In fact, Abraham and Sarah were getting older and the prospect of a child grew dimmer with each passing year.

Like Ruth, Sarah was barren and empty.

But let’s turn our attention to Lot, Abraham’s nephew. We are told that Abraham took Lot with him when he headed west for this yet-unspecified land where God was sending them. Lot accompanied Abraham to Canaan and settled there with him.

Lot is described in 2 Peter 2:7-8 as a righteous man, tormented by the lawlessness that surrounded him. Lot followed Abraham because he, too, trusted God.

Lot’s history is important to our understanding of Ruth. Both Lot and Abraham had large flocks of sheep. Eventually their herdsmen got to arguing. I live in wide-open Colorado, where the answer would be easy: just move a few miles down the road and all will be fine. But that’s not the geography of the Promised Land. Instead, these two big herds kept bumping into each other and the herdsmen kept tussling over grassland and water wells.
Abraham didn’t want strife between himself and his nephew. He said to Lot, “Hey, we’re family! We don’t want to be fighting over something like this!”

Abraham suggested that he and Lot choose separate lands. It reminds me of the old adage that good fences make good neighbors. If the herdsmen knew where their territory was, they wouldn’t keep running into the other herd.

Lot agreed and Abraham allowed him to choose first. Lot was perhaps a little greedy in selecting the best land for himself, and the sad part is that his new rich territory included two wicked and well-renowned cities: Sodom and Gomorrah.

Next time: A sad story

Ruth: At the threshing floor

The idea seemed like a good one to Naomi. She was responsible for Ruth and there was really no solution except marriage. As we take a look at Ruth 3, we see a new turn in our story. I hope you’ve read Ruth 3.

Naomi couldn’t have expected that Boaz would mend her barrenness, for she was too old for children. Naomi sent Ruth to Boaz hoping for a marriage. Her motivation seemed to be concern for Ruth’s security, something that had been on her mind since she had started the trip home from Bethlehem. She expressed that concern to Ruth: shouldn’t I try to find a home for you?

Naomi instructed Ruth to adorn herself like a bride and go to Boaz in the night, uncovering his feet and lying there in a position of submission. The scene crackles with sexual overtones, much like chapter 2.

Our attention is drawn away from the land. Instead, we see that Naomi arranged for Ruth to be redeemed. A marriage gave Ruth opportunity for home and children. Naomi was arranging for the greatest blessing an Israelite woman could enjoy: offspring.

Boaz was to provide that seed. Indeed, we notice that, after the discussion at the threshing floor, Boaz sends Ruth home to Naomi with her apron filled with seed – a foreshadowing of pregnancy.
We feel certain that Ruth would bear children, that Boaz would provide the seed.

And in a wonderful extra benefit, Boaz agreed to fulfill another kinsman-redeemer function. He redeemed Naomi’s land as well.

God’s activities are like one in the shadows but we can see his gentle provision. Naomi, who accused God of abandoning her, saw the turn of events. Both land and offspring were returned to her, flowing smoothly out of God’s redemptive plan.

Next time: redeeming heritage

Redeeming Love

Sarah was only 8, orphaned and penniless, when Duke introduced her to a life of prostitution. By the time she met Michael, she was a hardened veteran who believed there was no hope and no future.

But Michael was send by God and, in the end, that made all the difference.

I’ve just finished reading Francine Rivers’ book, Redeeming Love, the second romance novel I’ve read in my life. But this one gripped me in ways I didn’t expect.

First, the warnings. This is not a book for teenagers. Although there are no explicit scenes, the ugliness action of Sarah’s life is implied. Her story includes incest, vicious beatings, and hatred that will curdle your stomach. There is no bad language but there is sensuality between a husband and wife – again, not explicit but not something my teenager needs to read yet.

Rivers has woven a rich story about God’s tenacious love – and given a reminder that no one earns their way to his compassion. This is a re-telling of the prophet Hosea’s command to marry a prostitute, set in the 1850’s in California. There are twists upon twists but God’s redeeming love is threaded throughout the story.

Sarah is rescued from prostitution by Michael, but the story is really about her heart. Can she believe in love again? Can she open her heart to hope and commitment, or has she been forever ruined by the shame of her past?

But what especially struck me is that God even had provision for those twisted with self-righteous hate toward Sarah. Although their bitterness was palatable, God didn’t give up on them, either.

Redeeming Love will challenge your ideas on sin and redemption. That’s not a bad thing for followers of Jesus.

On writing: carving the angel

For being a romance, the first chapter of Ruth is pretty depressing. We walk with a family hit with famine, moving to a foreign country to survive. Then the men of the family die, leaving the women alone and destitute.

We see Naomi return home in defeat, angry with God for her losses. A fog of despair and bitterness settles over that first chapter.

But the last verse gives us a hint of the coming victory, for Naomi and Ruth return to Bethlehem during the barley harvest.

If you were to underline every reference to harvest in the second chapter, you’d have a long list. Here are a few examples:

"’Let me go to the fields and pick up the leftover grain…’”[1]

“So she went out and began to glean in the fields behind the harvesters.”[2]

“She found herself working in a field…”[3]

“Boaz arrived from Bethlehem and greeted the harvesters.”[4]

There are lots more. Go find them when you’re done reading this. The author of Ruth eases us out of the depression of chapter 1, preparing us for the victory of chapter 4, by using harvest imagery.

Where Bethlehem (which means, “city of bread”) had once suffered a famine - a shortage of grain - now it is erupting in abundant harvest. Not only is there a plentiful crop for the harvesters to bring in, there is enough left over for a foreigner like Ruth.

The craft of writing ushers in the author’s purpose, which in Ruth is to reveal God’s nature of restoration

Word choices and imagery are a key part of strong writing. This is where the Michelangelo principle helps. First be clear on your “angel in the marble” and then choose the tools for intricate carving.

---

[1] Ruth 2:2

[2] Ruth 2:3

[3] Ruth 2:3

[4] Ruth 2:4

The season's freedom

The Spirit of God, the Master, is on me because God anointed me. He sent me to preach good news to the poor, heal the heartbroken, Announce freedom to all captives, pardon all prisoners. God sent me to announce the year of his grace— a celebration of God's destruction of our enemies— and to comfort all who mourn, To care for the needs of all who mourn in Zion, give them bouquets of roses instead of ashes, Messages of joy instead of news of doom, a praising heart instead of a languid spirit. Rename them "Oaks of Righteousness" planted by God to display his glory. They'll rebuild the old ruins, raise a new city out of the wreckage. They'll start over on the ruined cities, take the rubble left behind and make it new.

Isaiah 61:1-4

C.S. Lewis and love

Psalm 29 is based on a Canaanite hymn to Baal, a local false god. Baal was considered the god of thunder, so Psalm 29 refers to the “voice of the Lord” seven times, countering the teaching that Baal was the god of seven thunders.

The writer of Psalm 29 intended to show that God, not Baal, was the cause of thunder. He re-wrote the psalm to correct the theology of the Canaanites and to counter their hymn.

You can see, in that re-working of an idolatrous song, how God is able to remake what was lost, to restore what was in error. The form – a recreating of an idolatrous hymn – actually strengthens the point.

C.S. Lewis took the same tack in his novel, Til We Have Faces, where he modified the classical myth of Cupid and Psyche, producing a challenging psychological look at the older sister who intervenes in their romance.

The story is told from Orual’s viewpoint and the reader gets to see what Orual,the ugly and bitter older sister, cannot see. She justifies her decisions and believes her own reasonings.

These are not cardboard characters. In spite of some of her ugly conclusions, I found myself respecting Orual in many ways and wanting to show her the way out of her own rationalizations. She is intelligent, honest, concerned with others – and yet imprisoned by her bitterness. She’s not a black-and-white villain, but a complex woman on a journey to seek truth.

The story is about her moral development, a lifetime spent justifying decisions she finds difficult but necessary to make. The reader can understand what Orual does not about herself and her own perceptions.

Although Lewis seems to spend his time in the world of myths and Greek gods, there’s a deeper current that runs here. Lewis has not written a symbolic book but one of emotion and sincerity. His meaning is solidly planted on the God of love.

Plan to read it twice to capture Lewis’ intent but plan to read it. It’s powerfully written with depth of insight and meaning that will touch your heart.

The world of Malacandra

Imagine that, in a world of purple forests, deep blue water and eldila, a reader could get a perceptive glimpse into the heart and motivation of people and their choices. C.S. Lewis’ classic Out of the Silent Planet does that in taking us on an imaginative voyage with Professor Ransom to Malacandra, the red planet.

Ransom, while on a backpacking trip, is kidnapped and stuffed into a spaceship, whisked away to Malacandra (our word: Mars) by two men intent on handing him over as a sacrifice to the gods of that planet. The two men then plan to ravage Malacandra. Ransom escapes once they land and is befriended by the creatures there who are surprisingly unspoiled and wise. While he first assumes that they mean him harm, they are mystified by the “bent” humans who will hurt each other and others for no apparent reason.

Eventually, Ransom learns the history of Earth, called Thulcandra (“the silent planet”) by the inhabitants of Malacandra, seeing from a different point of view the battle that raged on the spiritual level on Earth. What Ransom had accepted as normal on Earth was not understood by the creatures of Malacandra and soon he begins to question human greed, power struggles, and the like.

Lewis’ descriptions of a strange world are creative and imaginative. He even teaches us some of the language of Malacandra so that when he refers to hnau and sorns, we don’t blink an eye. We suffer with Ransom, feel his fears and exalt in his victories.

I just read Out of the Silent Planet to my children. Even at 16 and 12, they were begging for an extra chapter each day because the story captured their imaginations and their hearts. They mourned the loss of a hross and cheered when Weston, one of the “bent” men, evoked laughter when he meant to intimidate.

The reading level was not above even my 12-year-old but we enjoy a good read together on the couch and this one provided excellent opportunities not only to snuggle under the blanket but to discuss some of the ideas presented by Lewis.

I found Out of the Silent Planet an page-turning read that offered me some meaty ideas to think on. Check it out!

Friday Five: Isaiah's fruitfulness

The five steps of Isaiah

Recognizing God: I saw the Master sitting on a throne—high, exalted!—and the train of his robes filled the Temple. Isaiah 6:1

Recognizing self: I'm as good as dead! Every word I've ever spoken is tainted— blasphemous even! Isaiah 6:5

God’s response: "This coal has touched your lips. Gone your guilt, your sins wiped out." Isaiah 6:7

Invitation: And then I heard the voice of the Master: "Whom shall I send? Who will go for us?" Isaiah 6:8

Confidence: "I'll go. Send me!" Isaiah 6:8

(Painting is from Genesis project, used by permission.)

Inkblots of definition

It’s the Rorschach inkblot test of Bible studies and I usually squirm when the question pops up from a Cheshire-grinning teacher.

“Who are you?”

I figured out early not to answer with my name. That just revealed my shallowness and self-centeredness. If I could think quick enough to stammer out, “Daughter of the King,” that usually was accepted as proper unless the teacher had spiritual gifts in mind. Then I should have answered with “servant” or “leader.” Or maybe I should have answered that I was a daughter, wife, mother, sister because relationships should define who I am. Or maybe they shouldn’t define who I am. I forget.

The whole thing gave me headaches and I avoided the question for years.

But it is a good question, when separated from expectations, and I come back to it. Who am I?

If it weren’t for the yearnings, I’d say that we can look at God’s nature and see who we are in what he is not. We are not pure or righteous or loving or truth or compassionate or eternal or powerful. I could answer “Who am I?” by saying I am nothing like God.

But we long for what we are not. And that ache, not for what we are, but what we are not, often brings us to God’s throne.

Who am I? I am in a storm, with the wind screaming and the clouds boiling black, when God pulls me out. I am flat on my back with the wall collapsing above me when God whisks me away. I am soaked in bitterness and selfishness when God blasts me clean.

Casting Crowns tackles the same question in their song of the same name, twisting their way to a reasonable conclusion.

Who am I? Their answer: I am His.

I have loved you with an everlasting love;
I have drawn you with loving-kindness.

Jer 31:3

Pouring out living water

The day was probably hot and dry by midday. The woman was thirsty, coming to the well to fetch water.

We know some things about her: she was a foreigner, confused about her religious beliefs even as she clung to the tradition in them, feeling shame and the disapproval of her community. Why else would she have been drawing water at noon when all the women drew water in the morning? She came to avoid the disapproving tongues.

Jesus chose to enter her domain. Most people shunned this woman. While most Jews made a special point of avoiding Samaria – going out of their way to stay out of the hated land – Jesus went out of his way to talk to this woman.

He offered her water that never ran out – the answer to her problems. But while her mind probably flew to the condemnation of her village, Jesus talked about forgiveness and restoration.

Yesterday I raised the topic of Muslim prayer in our town. Should the school board allow Muslims to leave class for regular prayer? How should the Christians respond?

Jesus didn’t boycott the Samaritan religion or condemn it. He jumped right in with both feet, meeting this woman on her turf and talking about life in terms she understood. By the time he was done, this woman and her village had found the Messiah. Revival broke out in a Samaritan town that had been infiltrated by a Jewish rabbi.

I’m still putting the pieces together but I’m looking at Jesus’ life. How would he respond to Muslims praying in a school setting? How did he respond to a Samaritan woman with a skewed religion? He loved her, talked her language, and directed her to the truth.

I think there’s something in that I need to learn.

Whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life."

John 4:14

Nostalgia revisited

I’m not a real nostalgic person, although I’m re-thinking that position a little.

I learned to look ahead at my mother’s knee. She spent most of my childhood trying to forget that she’d hatched me.

Actually, that’s not true. She was a saint, persevering through those early years when I was the strong-willed child that Dr. Dobson warned – er, wrote – about. I knew at age 2 that I was more stubborn than she was. I eventually learned I was wrong but it took a while.

Once, when my three younger siblings were roaring about the house with lots of noise and flying objects, my mother sighed. “If only I’d just one….” Then she glanced at me. “But that would have been you.”

Another time, I confronted her: “If I was really that bad, why’d you have more kids?” She smiled, “I knew it couldn’t get any worse.”

When my first-born was a little tyke, I’d call her up. “Mom, she was dancing naked in a mud puddle today!” And my mother laughed and laughed. And laughed.

I thought I heard in her gasp, “Payback!” but I’m not sure about that.

I mean, I never danced naked in a mud puddle. I fed bobby pins to my baby brother instead. I asked Mom at age 7, “How come you don’t like me?” and she replied, “Oh, I like you OK. I don’t like the stuff you do.”

The reason I share this is because it’s important to my walk with Jesus. When I think I should polish up my Christian crown a little, I can look back. I didn’t start this life as a saint and it’s only by God’s incredible grace that I’m where I am.

I was in a black sludge-filled sewer pond when he reached out his hand and offered me a lift. It’s only when I remember who I was before Jesus, and who he is as my rescuer, that I’m a lot more humble and lot less about polishing any crowns.

So I’m not real nostalgic, except to remember my redemption. Then, humility is the order of the day.

Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free."

John 8:32