Tamar’s story is set out in Genesis 38, Rahab’s in Joshua 2 & 6, and Ruth’s – well, in the book of Ruth.

One could see how Ruth might fit the bill of ‘exceptional woman deserving honourable mention’ – she was loyal to her mother-in-law, hard working, faithful.  And even though Rahab betrayed her city and lied, she did show kindness to the ‘good guys’ (the Israelite spies) and feared God.  The case for Tamar, however, is somewhat more problematic.

Tamar had been greatly wronged by Judah, her father-in-law; he had not carried out his promise to give her his third son in marriage, after his first two sons had died on her and left her as a widow without any children.  But Tamar proceeded to trick Judah into sleeping with her by disguising herself as a prostitute.  And from that immoral act, she gets pregnant with twins – one of whom becomes an earthly forefather of Jesus.

So good deeds is not a common factor in these women.

Instead, the one notable thing about all three women is the hopelessness of their situations.  Tamar was a widow (twice over) without any children, who couldn’t marry again because of a broken promise by her father-in-law.  And while Tamar pretended to be a prostitute, Rahab actually was one, in a city (Jericho) God had marked for utter destruction by the invading Israelite army and from which there was to be no escape.  Ruth the Moabitess was also a widow without children, and would have faced great prejudice living in an Israelite community which outlawed Moabites assembling before God with everyone else.  (Deut 23:3)

Each woman’s circumstance should have meant a rather unfortunate life.  In the Old Testament, when strict laws and harsh punishments abounded, it was difficult enough for an Israelite man to reach God, let alone for these foreign women to see God’s goodness.  But that makes God’s grace all the more apparent in their stories, and the happy endings all the more amazing.  Like Jesus turning water into the finest wine, just when all the wine’s run out, God turns despair into triumph just when all hope seems lost.

For their part, there’s something of an incredible boldness in these women, who didn’t accept their circumstances as limitations on their destinies.  They sought for more – and found God’s grace.

– Joey

Someone once pointed out to me that, according to the above passage, remembering that we have been cleansed from our past sins (in a sense, where we come from) enables us to possess such great qualities as goodness, knowledge, self-control, perseverance, godliness, brotherly kindness and love.

How such a principle worked baffled me at first – until I read the parable of the unforgiving servant one day.

In Mt 18:23-35, Jesus tells the parable of a servant who was forgiven an enormous debt which he owed to his master, but who later could not forgive a fellow servant who owed him an insignificant amount.  When the master heard of what had happened, he called the first servant to account, and handed him over to the jailers until such time as he repaid his debt.

A key to understanding the behaviour of the unforgiving servant lies in the following verse:

“The servant fell on is knees before him [his master].  ‘Be patient with me,’ he begged, ‘and I will pay back everything.’” (Mt 18:26, NIV).

Well, the master instead chose to forgive the debt entirely.  But it didn’t seem to have dawned on the servant, who had pleaded for patience rather than the gracious act of forgiveness.  It seems that he was still trying to repay his debt, getting whatever money he could scrounge up.  Or at least the enormity of his master’s goodness towards him had not sunk in.  If he really understood how much he was forgiven, he wouldn’t have acted the way he did.  As Jesus said of a woman who washed his feet, “…her many sins have been forgiven – for she loved much.  But he who has been forgiven little loves little.” (Lk 7:47, NIV)  If only the servant understood how much he had been forgiven, he would have loved much, and in turn forgiven his fellow servant.  Because forgiveness and love are inextricably linked.

And so if we remember where we come from – if we can fully appreciate the extent of God’s forgiveness (which is never little) and the price God paid – well, apart from being humbling, it has to help us better grasp God’s love.  And that’s the start of great things.  As the apostle Paul wrote:

“… I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge – that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.” (Eph 3:17-19, NIV).

The “fullness of God” – that must include faith, goodness, knowledge, self-control, perseverance, godliness, brotherly kindness and love.  Ours, If we could just know his love, and fathom his forgiveness.  And never forget.

– Joey

Whenever I’ve heard people talk of a ‘great man (or woman) of God’, I’ve always imagined someone who was a great evangelist, who prayed a lot, had a great prophetic ministry or was an anointed preacher, healer or miracle worker – or all of the above.  But the Bible doesn’t point to any of these qualities as a mark of a great person.  Instead, it says:

‘Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.’ (Mt 18:4, NIV).

It seems to me to be very ironic that the people who have the most to boast about are the very people who wouldn’t boast.  I suppose that’s just God’s way.

And actually, being humble and having nothing to boast about is quite liberating – it means not having to justify yourself, or protect a reputation, or worry about losing whatever it is that makes you ‘great’.

Jesus said:

‘Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.’  (Matt 11:29, NIV)

In offering rest, Jesus invites us to take up his yoke, and to learn from him – because there’s something about his gentle nature, his humility of heart, that provides rest for the soul.  Jesus didn’t need to strive for greatness, or to prove it to others, so neither should we.

It’s a long journey to greatness, and we’ll need rest along the way.  Humility is key to both.

– Joey

Like sunshine and rain, God’s grace is free.  It encompasses everyone, and we can’t do anything to get one bit more or less.  And like sunshine and rain, it falls from the heavens down to earth, from God to man.

And yet, somehow, not everyone enjoys this amazing grace.  Rather, God ‘opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble.’  (Jas 4:6 and 1 Pet 5:5, both quoting Prov 3:34, NIV).

The humble are singled out as the recipients of God’s grace.  I’d always wondered how that could be, since the whole idea of grace is that it’s freely available to everyone and not based on merit.  Fortunately, Jesus gave what I think is a good illustration of how it all works.

In Lk 14:8-11, Jesus talked about the seating at a wedding feast to make a point about humility.  He advised against seating ourselves at the place of honor, because the host might make us give up our seats for someone more distinguished, and we’d be humiliated.  Instead, his advice was to ‘“…take the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he will say to you, ‘Friend, move up to a better place.’  Then you will be honored in the presence of all your fellow guests.”’  (Lk 4:10, NIV)

What struck me about this parable one day was this: the further down we seat ourselves (the more we humble ourselves), the more room we have to receive God’s grace.  If we sit halfway down, God can only elevate us halfway up.  But if we sit all the way down, God’s grace can lift us all the way up.

And if we seat ourselves in the best place to begin with, we leave no room for God’s grace to work – nowhere for God to lift us up, to show us his favour.  (And that’s when he makes room, putting us in our proper place).

It’s like how Jesus died for everyone – the ultimate act of grace – but not everyone accepts that they need such a sacrifice for their sins.  And so they don’t make space in their hearts for the grace that is freely given.

God’s grace truly is like the rain and sunshine that fall on everyone – we just need to stretch out our hands and open our eyes to it.  We just need to let go of stubborn pride – and the more we do, the more space we’ll have to take in his amazing grace.

– Joey