Zion hears and is glad, and the daughters of Judah rejoice, because of Your judgments, O Lord. For You, O Lord, are most high over all the earth; You are exalted far above all gods.
O you who love the Lord, hate evil! (Verses 8 -10a)
Once again Anthony Weiner makes his wife, Huma Abedin, stand before a podium while he admits his indiscretions with other women via "sexting." Just as her boss, Hillary Clinton, did earlier, she stands by her man. Despite the fact that he objectifies women, uses them for his own purposes, making her look foolish and simple along with him. Which I'm sure she isn't! Sex has become Weiner's sickness. Carlos Danger is his texting pseudonym. Really? The mayor of San Diego is in trouble, too. Can't seem to keep his potty mouth shut nor his hands off women. There is, of course, a very long list and a very long precedent for men using women. That is why this psalm resonates with me this morning. It is the daughters of Judah who rejoice because God is right in His judgments. I can certainly see why.
Early one morning, a woman was dragged mercilessly through the streets of Jerusalem up to the very steps of the temple where Jesus was sitting and teaching. The temple congregants and scribes who fetched her from her tryst, left the male who lay with her behind. Unimportant to them, as it was the woman who was vulnerable--who caused the problem for the saintly man who'd lain with her until dawn. "What do you say, Jesus? The law says we can stone her. What's your take?"
Of course, we know the story. Jesus asked them a question, "Are you without sin? If so, go ahead. Throw your stones." Then He stooped in the dust and doodled there while the religious men thought the question through. They left. The woman, then alone with Jesus, stood before Him as He told her, "I don't condemn you, either. But don't sin anymore. Don't subject yourself to this kind of treatment any more. You don't have to now." Because God in the flesh looked into her eyes and freed her from her slavery to man. The woman shouldn't have left the circle of accusers alive that day. Should have been reduced to a bloodied heap, dead in the dust of Jerusalem. The law said she deserved that. But somehow Jesus knew her life, understood the objectifying of her womanhood. O daughter of Judah, rejoice in His judgments!
Someone touched the edge of His robe when Jesus walked through a throng of people on His way to heal the daughter of Jairus, one of the rulers of the synagogue. With the crowd pressing in so close, hoping for their own miracle as well as curious about the healing of Jairus's daughter, it should've been impossible for Jesus to discern exactly who touched the hem of his tunic. But He stopped. "Who touched my garment?" He asked. But surely He knew. He'd felt the power go out of Him and into her.
"Really?" asked His disciples. "Look, there's a huge crowd here and You're stopping to ask Who touched You?"
But Jesus waited, looking through the crowd for the woman's face. Oh, she'd been so sick. Menstrual bleeding over the past twelve years depleted her health and all her savings. She was desperate. If only I could touch just His clothes, I will be made well. And the touch was electric. Power surged from Jesus into her broken body, the bleeding ceased immediately and her strength returned in an instant. But she didn't know what to do with the look on His face as His eyes searched the crowd. Would he reprimand her boldness? She was a nobody, unclean and cast off. It took all her courage to nearly crawl to Jesus, pushing past the sweaty crowd which had fallen silent in anticipation, looking for her just as He was. Finally they made way for the tiny woman, knowing she must be the unclean one who'd touched the Master. Surely He'd reprimand her for breaking Jewish law that way, making Him unclean, too.
"It was I," she said as she grasped His feet.
"Daughter," He said. A term of endearment. He loved this woman though she was a pariah to the crowd. Jesus took her hand and lifted her from the dirt of her disease. "Your faith has healed you. Go now in peace." Clean. Restored. Head up. Shoulders back. Walking back through all the stunned and gasping people a new woman, no longer judged by her disease. O daughter of Judah, rejoice in His judgments, Who would halt a more exalted journey to the house of a prominent Jewish leader to love on a daughter of the dust. To not only judge her worthy of healing but also of the pronouncement to her community that she's no longer an outcast, unclean and isolated. The God Who walked their streets gave her back her life.
So yesterday when Anthony Weiner once more allowed his wife to share in his shame, I couldn't help wondering about Jesus's reaction. Surely He doesn't hate Mr. Weiner. But Jesus undoubtedly hates the evil he is involved in. Hates that Huma is covered with the ignominy of her husband's filthy habit. Jesus loves women. From Hagar, who pleaded with God in the desert, to Rahab, Hannah, Abigail, Esther and Ruth, to Mary, His mother, and Mary Magdalene whose demons Jesus cast out, the God of All has loved and protected women. Saved them from shame. Because He hates evil wherever He finds it. As we should. Hate it because it destroys lives, families, hopes, dreams and possibilities. Despise the sins that so easily beset us and keep our eyes on our own "deeply flawed" human predicament. It is sin God hates. Not us. But when we allow sin to define who we are, we have become anathema to Him. And He will judge. Not I. But I pray for us, as women, that we take hold of the dignity our Savior draped us in when He walked Earth to reveal His heart. We are His Beloved and can, therefore, walk away from the shame we've been wearing to don a wedding gown of purest linen and rejoice that our Groom considers His Beloved precious enough to lay down His life for her.
O you who love the Lord, hate evil! (Verses 8 -10a)
Once again Anthony Weiner makes his wife, Huma Abedin, stand before a podium while he admits his indiscretions with other women via "sexting." Just as her boss, Hillary Clinton, did earlier, she stands by her man. Despite the fact that he objectifies women, uses them for his own purposes, making her look foolish and simple along with him. Which I'm sure she isn't! Sex has become Weiner's sickness. Carlos Danger is his texting pseudonym. Really? The mayor of San Diego is in trouble, too. Can't seem to keep his potty mouth shut nor his hands off women. There is, of course, a very long list and a very long precedent for men using women. That is why this psalm resonates with me this morning. It is the daughters of Judah who rejoice because God is right in His judgments. I can certainly see why.
Early one morning, a woman was dragged mercilessly through the streets of Jerusalem up to the very steps of the temple where Jesus was sitting and teaching. The temple congregants and scribes who fetched her from her tryst, left the male who lay with her behind. Unimportant to them, as it was the woman who was vulnerable--who caused the problem for the saintly man who'd lain with her until dawn. "What do you say, Jesus? The law says we can stone her. What's your take?"
Of course, we know the story. Jesus asked them a question, "Are you without sin? If so, go ahead. Throw your stones." Then He stooped in the dust and doodled there while the religious men thought the question through. They left. The woman, then alone with Jesus, stood before Him as He told her, "I don't condemn you, either. But don't sin anymore. Don't subject yourself to this kind of treatment any more. You don't have to now." Because God in the flesh looked into her eyes and freed her from her slavery to man. The woman shouldn't have left the circle of accusers alive that day. Should have been reduced to a bloodied heap, dead in the dust of Jerusalem. The law said she deserved that. But somehow Jesus knew her life, understood the objectifying of her womanhood. O daughter of Judah, rejoice in His judgments!
Someone touched the edge of His robe when Jesus walked through a throng of people on His way to heal the daughter of Jairus, one of the rulers of the synagogue. With the crowd pressing in so close, hoping for their own miracle as well as curious about the healing of Jairus's daughter, it should've been impossible for Jesus to discern exactly who touched the hem of his tunic. But He stopped. "Who touched my garment?" He asked. But surely He knew. He'd felt the power go out of Him and into her.
"Really?" asked His disciples. "Look, there's a huge crowd here and You're stopping to ask Who touched You?"
But Jesus waited, looking through the crowd for the woman's face. Oh, she'd been so sick. Menstrual bleeding over the past twelve years depleted her health and all her savings. She was desperate. If only I could touch just His clothes, I will be made well. And the touch was electric. Power surged from Jesus into her broken body, the bleeding ceased immediately and her strength returned in an instant. But she didn't know what to do with the look on His face as His eyes searched the crowd. Would he reprimand her boldness? She was a nobody, unclean and cast off. It took all her courage to nearly crawl to Jesus, pushing past the sweaty crowd which had fallen silent in anticipation, looking for her just as He was. Finally they made way for the tiny woman, knowing she must be the unclean one who'd touched the Master. Surely He'd reprimand her for breaking Jewish law that way, making Him unclean, too.
"It was I," she said as she grasped His feet.
"Daughter," He said. A term of endearment. He loved this woman though she was a pariah to the crowd. Jesus took her hand and lifted her from the dirt of her disease. "Your faith has healed you. Go now in peace." Clean. Restored. Head up. Shoulders back. Walking back through all the stunned and gasping people a new woman, no longer judged by her disease. O daughter of Judah, rejoice in His judgments, Who would halt a more exalted journey to the house of a prominent Jewish leader to love on a daughter of the dust. To not only judge her worthy of healing but also of the pronouncement to her community that she's no longer an outcast, unclean and isolated. The God Who walked their streets gave her back her life.
So yesterday when Anthony Weiner once more allowed his wife to share in his shame, I couldn't help wondering about Jesus's reaction. Surely He doesn't hate Mr. Weiner. But Jesus undoubtedly hates the evil he is involved in. Hates that Huma is covered with the ignominy of her husband's filthy habit. Jesus loves women. From Hagar, who pleaded with God in the desert, to Rahab, Hannah, Abigail, Esther and Ruth, to Mary, His mother, and Mary Magdalene whose demons Jesus cast out, the God of All has loved and protected women. Saved them from shame. Because He hates evil wherever He finds it. As we should. Hate it because it destroys lives, families, hopes, dreams and possibilities. Despise the sins that so easily beset us and keep our eyes on our own "deeply flawed" human predicament. It is sin God hates. Not us. But when we allow sin to define who we are, we have become anathema to Him. And He will judge. Not I. But I pray for us, as women, that we take hold of the dignity our Savior draped us in when He walked Earth to reveal His heart. We are His Beloved and can, therefore, walk away from the shame we've been wearing to don a wedding gown of purest linen and rejoice that our Groom considers His Beloved precious enough to lay down His life for her.
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