Week 7 (Year 1, NL)

I've always admired the prophets. Their job of truth-telling required such courage and personal sacrifice. Yet they never held back. They spoke the truth no matter the consequences. I imagine they were lonely, then. Who could stand their challenging company for very long?

Personal relationships, however, weren't the prophets' priority. Their job was to tell God's truth in a way that would be heard.

My husband came home one night confused and needing to talk. A friend of his had blown him off at work, and Dan couldn't figure out why. "I was standing there, waiting to talk to him, and he just walked away!" My husband was hurt and remorseful.

In this week’s reading, Bathsheba, the woman David drew dripping out of her bath and into his story, is not named.

I don’t want to identify with David, with this king who knows no limits. But why, pray God, does his arrogance feel so familiar?

I believe God can make us completely over, but I also believe that this is not always necessary.

In my younger, decidedly anti-Christian days, I did not like the way Christians asked God for mercy. It reinforced my idea that “the Christian God” was cruel and punishing. After all, if God was a loving and compassionate God, one would not have to beg for mercy. And if God was cruel and punishing but at the same time righteous and just, then human beings were clearly bad and unworthy.

This whole system of thought—shameful people and cruel God—made me want to stay far, far away from Christianity and Christian churches.

Jesus' parable of the so-called "wicked tenant farmers" is a textbook illustration—a parody, even—of the economic and political dynamics of empire.

In the Bible, forgiveness involves repayment of what is owed. One way to pay down the debt is through charity to the poor.