" Our lives are a culmination of the choices we make and the chances we take. " -- the signature line a friend uses on her email.
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.”– The Apostle Paul, 2 Corinthians 5:17 (ESV)
I’ve pondered this question for several years now. If you think that I’m referring to Christ’s return, you are mistaken. Let me explain:
A little over a decade ago, a life-long addiction reared its ugly head and as a result, I ran afoul of the law. I was incarcerated for a time and eventually released. Since then, I have worked hard to rebuild something that resembles a life. And, I must admit, I have been blessed. I have a car. I have a job that I enjoy (mostly, it pays the bills anyway). I have a small apartment in a good section of the city. I’m even able to put a few dollars away in the bank. I have the support of a loving family and a few friends who don’t seem to let my past affect them.
“So, what’s the problem?” you might ask.
Much like Hester Prynne in The Scarlet Letter, I have been labeled by society. At times, simply walking down the street, I feel as if everyone is looking at the blazing-red letters on my chest, spelling out my offences for all the world to see and hurl insults my way. This hasn’t happened except in my head but, believe me, it feels very real.
I can’t begin to tell you how many job interviews I have been on, the interviewer clearly interested in my experience and talents, “your resume is certainly impressive. It speaks for itself and you are certainly qualified for the position. Can you explain this gap in your employment history?” As I tell my story of addiction, recovery and incarceration (yes, it was that order), I see their previously bright and attentive eyes glaze over and become unfocused – the universal sign for “this interview is over.” Thank you for coming in, we’ll be in touch. I smile, rise from my seat, give a firm hand shake, thank them for their time and depart. All the while thinking, here’s another one I didn’t get.
How long? How long must I be identified with what happened then? How long until people see me for the person I am as opposed to the person I was? How long?
As I was pondering about this the other day, I was reminded of another person who was labeled by her society. At the time, she would have been considered the lowest of the low – a veritable outcast of her community and at the same time, she was responsible for an act of heroism which could have resulted in her death by the hands of her own people. Her name was Rahab and she was a prostitute. (See Joshua chapters 2-6)
For nearly 3,500 years this woman has been known as “Rahab, the harlot.” In all my study of scripture, I am not sure why the Biblical writers felt it necessary to include her occupation. Was Rahab a common name in Jericho? Was there also Rahab, the seamstress; Rahab, the school teacher; Rahab the milk maid? So many that the pejorative was necessary to distinguish between them? “Oh yes, my name is Rahab but, I’m not that one.”
Interestingly, the only time this negative modifier is not used is in the genealogy of Jesus. “Salmon the father of Boaz, whose mother was Rahab, Boaz the father of Obed, whose mother was Ruth…” (Matt 1:5, NIV). As if to say, “Yes, we all know who she was and what she did, no need to mention it here.” Imagine if we were to put labels behind the people in that familial line from Matthew’s Gospel. It might read: “Abraham, the liar, was the father of Isaac…Jacob, the swindler, was the father of Judah and his brothers…David, the adulterer, was the father of Solomon, the polygamist…Mary, the knocked-up, un-wed teenager…” and on and on. But there could be an important lesson here.
Jesus told his disciples that they were clean thorough the word which He had spoken (John 15:3), He, Himself being the Word of God (John 1). In the vision given to Peter, God tells him to “not call anything impure that have made clean.” (Acts 10:15). As quoted above, Paul writes in 2 Corinthians that if anyone is in Christ, they are a new creation, the old is gone! (compare also Ephesians 4:20 - 5:2 and Colossians 2:6 - 3:17).
Maybe that is one of the points we can take away from Matthew 1, when we are in Christ what happened “then” is not as important as what is happening “now.” I have been made clean by the power of the Cross. I am a new creation. I am God’s son. I am led by His Spirit. I love Him and, more importantly, He loves me.
If I am to be labeled by the world (and sadly, many times by fellow Christians), let them call me Wayne, the felon. Who knows? If I add the time span from Rahab to Jesus (about 1,500 years) to the current year it would come to about AD 3520. Maybe someone then will see my name in a genealogical list and the pejorative will be gone. Maybe it won’t even be a literal genealogy, perhaps it will be spiritual: Wayne led Jimmy to Christ, Jimmy led Rich to Christ, Rich led Sammy to Christ…and so on and so on. How many of you reading this wouldn’t love to have lineages like that?
How long? How long to labels carry? Who cares!!
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.”– The Apostle Paul, 2 Corinthians 5:17 (ESV)
“How long?”
I’ve pondered this question for several years now. If you think that I’m referring to Christ’s return, you are mistaken. Let me explain:
A little over a decade ago, a life-long addiction reared its ugly head and as a result, I ran afoul of the law. I was incarcerated for a time and eventually released. Since then, I have worked hard to rebuild something that resembles a life. And, I must admit, I have been blessed. I have a car. I have a job that I enjoy (mostly, it pays the bills anyway). I have a small apartment in a good section of the city. I’m even able to put a few dollars away in the bank. I have the support of a loving family and a few friends who don’t seem to let my past affect them.
“So, what’s the problem?” you might ask.
Much like Hester Prynne in The Scarlet Letter, I have been labeled by society. At times, simply walking down the street, I feel as if everyone is looking at the blazing-red letters on my chest, spelling out my offences for all the world to see and hurl insults my way. This hasn’t happened except in my head but, believe me, it feels very real.
I can’t begin to tell you how many job interviews I have been on, the interviewer clearly interested in my experience and talents, “your resume is certainly impressive. It speaks for itself and you are certainly qualified for the position. Can you explain this gap in your employment history?” As I tell my story of addiction, recovery and incarceration (yes, it was that order), I see their previously bright and attentive eyes glaze over and become unfocused – the universal sign for “this interview is over.” Thank you for coming in, we’ll be in touch. I smile, rise from my seat, give a firm hand shake, thank them for their time and depart. All the while thinking, here’s another one I didn’t get.
How long? How long must I be identified with what happened then? How long until people see me for the person I am as opposed to the person I was? How long?
As I was pondering about this the other day, I was reminded of another person who was labeled by her society. At the time, she would have been considered the lowest of the low – a veritable outcast of her community and at the same time, she was responsible for an act of heroism which could have resulted in her death by the hands of her own people. Her name was Rahab and she was a prostitute. (See Joshua chapters 2-6)
For nearly 3,500 years this woman has been known as “Rahab, the harlot.” In all my study of scripture, I am not sure why the Biblical writers felt it necessary to include her occupation. Was Rahab a common name in Jericho? Was there also Rahab, the seamstress; Rahab, the school teacher; Rahab the milk maid? So many that the pejorative was necessary to distinguish between them? “Oh yes, my name is Rahab but, I’m not that one.”
Interestingly, the only time this negative modifier is not used is in the genealogy of Jesus. “Salmon the father of Boaz, whose mother was Rahab, Boaz the father of Obed, whose mother was Ruth…” (Matt 1:5, NIV). As if to say, “Yes, we all know who she was and what she did, no need to mention it here.” Imagine if we were to put labels behind the people in that familial line from Matthew’s Gospel. It might read: “Abraham, the liar, was the father of Isaac…Jacob, the swindler, was the father of Judah and his brothers…David, the adulterer, was the father of Solomon, the polygamist…Mary, the knocked-up, un-wed teenager…” and on and on. But there could be an important lesson here.
Jesus told his disciples that they were clean thorough the word which He had spoken (John 15:3), He, Himself being the Word of God (John 1). In the vision given to Peter, God tells him to “not call anything impure that have made clean.” (Acts 10:15). As quoted above, Paul writes in 2 Corinthians that if anyone is in Christ, they are a new creation, the old is gone! (compare also Ephesians 4:20 - 5:2 and Colossians 2:6 - 3:17).
Maybe that is one of the points we can take away from Matthew 1, when we are in Christ what happened “then” is not as important as what is happening “now.” I have been made clean by the power of the Cross. I am a new creation. I am God’s son. I am led by His Spirit. I love Him and, more importantly, He loves me.
If I am to be labeled by the world (and sadly, many times by fellow Christians), let them call me Wayne, the felon. Who knows? If I add the time span from Rahab to Jesus (about 1,500 years) to the current year it would come to about AD 3520. Maybe someone then will see my name in a genealogical list and the pejorative will be gone. Maybe it won’t even be a literal genealogy, perhaps it will be spiritual: Wayne led Jimmy to Christ, Jimmy led Rich to Christ, Rich led Sammy to Christ…and so on and so on. How many of you reading this wouldn’t love to have lineages like that?
How long? How long to labels carry? Who cares!!
