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Luke 11.14-23

Now he was casting out a demon that was mute; when the demon had gone out, the one who had been mute spoke, and the crowds were amazed. But some of them said, “He casts out demons by Beelzebul, the ruler of the demons.” Others, to test him, kept demanding from him a sign from heaven. But he knew what they were thinking and said to them, “Every kingdom divided against itself becomes a desert, and house falls on house. If Satan also is divided against himself, how will his kingdom stand? —for you say that I cast out the demons by Beelzebul. Now if I cast out the demons by Beelzebul, by whom do your exorcists cast them out? Therefore they will be your judges. But if it is by the finger of God that I cast out the demons, then the kingdom of God has come to you. When a strong man, fully armed, guards his castle, his property is safe. But when one stronger than he attacks him and overpowers him, he takes away his armor in which he trusted and divides his plunder. Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters.

This is a heavy reading to parse through. It seems like such a strong condemnation and definitive line in the sand from the one who calls us to love our neighbor as ourselves and whose sacrifice is the font of redemption. But there it is.

Jesus brings up an interesting point to his critics early on in the story, revealing their logical fallacy. “Every kingdom divided against itself becomes a desert, and house falls on house. If Satan also is divided against himself, how will his kingdom stand? —for you say that I cast out the demons by Beelzebul."

Evil that does good can no longer truly be evil and likewise, good that does evil can not be considered good.

I read CS Lewis' The Last Battle when I was younger and one scene really stuck with me. A young Calormen soldier, who had worshiped Tash (an evil, vicious demi-god and a parallel to Satan in Lewis' fantasy world of Narnia) all of his life and, when given the opportunity to enter the altar set up to Tash, the soldier does so piously and penitently; expecting not to survive the encounter. Instead, he comes face to face with Aslan (the parallel to Christ in Narnia) and is told that all the service that the young man had done in the name of Tash was actually done in his name, for "no service which is vile can be done to me, and none which is not vile can be done to him." The young man is relieved and falls to his knees weeping.

I found, and continue to find, this heartening. That the line in the sand doesn't have to be as damning as it seems. That though there is good and evil in this world, I can't always make that determination from a cursory, superficial examination. That perhaps I have more in common with my (so called) enemies than I realize. Perhaps we aren't truly enemies at all. Perhaps there is hope for me yet?

Redemption hidden in even the heaviest of lessons.

Isaiah 60.19-22

The sun shall no longer be your light by day, nor for brightness shall the moon give light to you by night; but the Lord will be your everlasting light, and your God will be your glory. Your sun shall no more go down, or your moon withdraw itself; for the Lord will be your everlasting light, and your days of mourning shall be ended. Your people shall all be righteous; they shall possess the land forever. They are the shoot that I planted, the work of my hands, so that I might be glorified. The least of them shall become a clan, and the smallest one a mighty nation; I am the Lord; in its time I will accomplish it quickly.

When I think of the sun and the moon and the celestial bodies in the sky, I think of fixed points of reference. Sailors have and continue to use these constant flames as beacons when traveling the vast and disorienting oceans. Mankind would hardly have dared take to the open sea without some way of charting their course and their return voyage.

Yet even the sun and stars can be obscured by the weather. Storms can overtake a ship in minutes, blotting out the sky and leaving seafarers tossed by the waves, blown off course and fighting for their lives.

I can't count how many time I have felt that way in my life. Tossed by the waves. Blown off course. Fighting for my life. Often it didn't take much of a storm. This year has been tumultuous to say the least. A global pandemic. Friends and family becoming ill. Economic insecurities. Political clashes and cultural changes. The unsurety in the things I take for granted.

Fixed points of reference were being obscured.

But deeper ones remain. Watching my daughter grow up and the constant look of joy and wonder on her face reminds me of how much beauty there is in the world. Sharing this amazing and frightening journey with Kim as we grow older (and hopefully wiser). Reaching out to friends I hadn't spoken to in years (although often just through emails and social media). Enjoying the brief moments of interaction outside with neighbors or watching people greet one another from across the street. I am reminded of how important we are to one another. How dependent we are to each other's well being.

That is how "God's glory" is manifested in my experience. Through every interaction with every person (no matter the distance), as they shine light into my life and I endeavor to shine light back just like the moon and the stars.

Genesis 45:1 - 15 

⁴⁵ Then Joseph could no longer control himself before all those who stood by him, and he cried out, ‘Send everyone away from me.’ So no one stayed with him when Joseph made himself known to his brothers.²And he wept so loudly that the Egyptians heard it, and the household of Pharaoh heard it. ³Joseph said to his brothers, ‘I am Joseph. Is my father still alive?’ But his brothers could not answer him, so dismayed were they at his presence.

⁴ Then Joseph said to his brothers, ‘Come closer to me.’ And they came closer. He said, ‘I am your brother Joseph, whom you sold into Egypt.⁵And now do not be distressed, or angry with yourselves, because you sold me here; for God sent me before you to preserve life. ⁶For the famine has been in the land these two years; and there are five more years in which there will be neither ploughing nor harvest. ⁷God sent me before you to preserve for you a remnant on earth, and to keep alive for you many survivors. ⁸So it was not you who sent me here, but God; he has made me a father to Pharaoh, and lord of all his house and ruler over all the land of Egypt. ⁹Hurry and go up to my father and say to him, “Thus says your son Joseph, God has made me lord of all Egypt; come down to me, do not delay. ¹⁰You shall settle in the land of Goshen, and you shall be near me, you and your children and your children’s children, as well as your flocks, your herds, and all that you have. ¹¹I will provide for you there—since there are five more years of famine to come—so that you and your household, and all that you have, will not come to poverty.”¹²And now your eyes and the eyes of my brother Benjamin see that it is my own mouth that speaks to you. ¹³You must tell my father how greatly I am honoured in Egypt, and all that you have seen. Hurry and bring my father down here.’ ¹⁴Then he fell upon his brother Benjamin’s neck and wept, while Benjamin wept upon his neck. ¹⁵And he kissed all his brothers and wept upon them; and after that his brothers talked with him.

Sometimes family be like that.

After being abducted and sold into slavery by his brothers, then falsely accused and thrown into prison, Joseph finds himself in a position of power. A position that brings people from across the region to him in hopes of favor. It is in this position that his brothers, unbeknownst to them, come face to face with Joseph again. 

Joseph erupts! He can no longer conceal his emotions anymore, sends all of his underlings out of his presence and after revealing his true identity to his siblings he cries so loudly that almost all of Egypt hears him. We aren't told if these are tears of joy or of rage or of pain, but I would assume they are a mixture of all of these emotions pent up over the years.

But at the end of this outburst he calls his brothers close, wraps his arms around them and tells them not to dismay. Ultimately, that all is forgiven.

What would I do? Who would I have become in that situation? Would I welcome my brothers in with open arms? Would I use my my new found power to retaliate and seek some retribution? I like to think that I would be magnanimous and forgiving, but a modicum of self-reflection and humility would reveal that I might just as likely be unsympathetic and vindictive. Certainly my behavior towards my own brothers, for far less severe slights as Joseph endured, would belie any pretense of sainthood on my part.

And yet I am continuously given opportunities to choose the more honorable path. The path that Joseph took. To embrace my brothers & sisters (the family I was born into & the family I have chosen) and say, "I forgive you" or more often than not, "please forgive me."