echoes of redemption

Jezreel seems like a terrible name for a child.

But it was the name the prophet gave his first born. And every time someone heard it they thought of one of the darkest moments in their history. A time when a king had a man killed to steal his family’s vineyard for himself.

A vineyard.

At it’s best, the family would have sown in it for years. And sowing is not a quick process. They would have carefully selected seed, placed the seed in hot water to cleanse the imperfections off of it, moved it into cooler water to fortify and strengthen it.

Meanwhile, they would have been preparing the ground for the seed. Then, with a quick movement of their hand, they would send the seed out over the ground, followed by a swift kick to move enough dirt over the seed to protect it from the scorching sun and brisk wind.

Jezreel would have made everyone think of this vineyard. But God’s intention wasn’t to discourage them. He was going to redeem this time in their history. He was going to use everything they had been through to take them somewhere they had never been.

Jezreel is actually a good metaphor for God.

Because he is one who carefully selects his children, places them situations that are nothing short of hot water – refining and pulling away imperfections. He then builds them us, strengthening them and adding layers to their character.

Meanwhile he prepares a place for them to live as his children – an image of what he would look like on earth. And when the time is right, he sends them into this place, give them enough protection that they can grow and change the landscape of everything around them.

Because in Hebrew, Jezreel means God sows.

Most people who follow God admit that he is big.

Really big.

Yet for some reason, followers of God tend to have little tolerance for ideas about him that differ from their own.

And you don’t even have to cross the boundaries of differing religions to find frustrations. In my faith, we’ve divided into denominations. Each holds their own view point and each is traditionally not open to seeing things in ways other people see them. (Fortunately this is changing with a new generation of leaders.)

If God truly is big – really big – wouldn’t it follow that none of us would be able to fully define or explain him? Wouldn’t he be beyond the explanation of a person, or even a group of people, locked in a limited time in history with limited view?

There’s nothing dangerous about listening to someone whose ideas are different than yours. But there is something dangerous about not listening.

Theology can quickly become inbred. Limited by where I live, what I’ve experienced or the priorities of my church.

Christ commissioned his followers as a body.

A group of people with different roles, doing different things and looking radically different. We do well when we embrace these differences, grow from our different understandings and show support for one another as we all try and understand more of our huge God.

Embrace the bigness of God. Understand him through another person’s viewpoint. You don’t have to change your viewpoint (that degrades the beauty of the body too) – but you do well to see a side you might not have seen before.

And typically when you experience more of God, you grow.

The only thing harder than taking a step of faith is taking the next step of faith – especially if you didn’t see the response you wanted with the first one.

But taking multiple steps of faith is the definition of walking by faith.

One day a man came to Jesus and asked him to heal his son. Jesus responded, Go, your son will live. Easy for us to read, but this man was going to need to take a step of faith. He was going to have to leave the comfort of where he was and walk – all the while trusting Jesus had healed his son.

The challenge was that home was 25 miles away.

Two days by foot.

Step after step, after step of faith. Never knowing for sure his son was healed until he arrived home.

The only thing the man knew for sure was that he had left the comfort and security of where he was for the unknown of everything he dreamed.

How small would our victories be if it only took one step to get there?

How many things do we miss out on life because we’re not willing to take the second step of faith?

The third?

The sixteenth?