Category: Devotional

Jesus didn’t have to go through Samaria. Well, it wasn’t an earthly necessity, anyway. When Jesus is heading north from Judea to Galilee after causing a stir with all the baptizing his folks were doing, he ends up at a well in the city of Sychar. It’s an interesting location, a city that sits in the shadow of Mount Gerizim, where the Samaritans made sacrifices and worshipped YHWH, because they believed that was the place He had designated. They had, in fact, built a temple there in the 4th Century B.C. The Israelites believed this to be a perversion, a heretical decision to avoid God’s clear instructions that Jerusalem would be the holy city.

Most Jews would go around Samaria when travelling north, and Jesus certainly could have. But John tells us Jesus “had to” go through Sychar. The lady He meets at the well by the city is hesitant to give Him water, suspicious of this Israelite who would be seen interacting with a Samaritan on something so familiar as sharing water and close company. Plus, she may have had trouble of her own, a woman with five previous husbands and in a relationship with a current man who she wasn’t married to. As a woman, she wouldn’t have been able to initiate divorce, so her previous marriages ended through either death of her spouse or divorce that he initiated. And we do not know the state of her relationship with this current man, it could be all above board. But, none of this keeps people from talking or inferring that she is somehow trouble or her assuming they are thinking it, even if they aren’t.

In a surprising turn of events, Jesus goes from asking her for water to suggesting that she should ask him for living water, an interesting proposition given His lack of bucket and the unclear nature of “living water”. She namedrops Jacob (Israel, the man, and namesake of this well) because even he didn’t offer living water, and this rando Jew was surely no Jacob (she will learn He is greater than that here in a second).

Jesus claims to offer water that will quench forever and suggests the woman go get her husband that they both can return and have some. Her story is more complicated than that, but that’s the point. Jesus isn’t shaming her, he’s winking, probably smiling, and letting her in on a secret that will change her life and the village that surrounds her. She recognizes him as a prophet and immediately calls the prophet to account for what by now has been a centuries old disagreement, the contention around where the right place is to worship YHWH. This is a bold lady.

Jesus provides a length response to her question, which it appears she doesn’t quite fully understand, as she basically goes, “Yes, well, when Messiah comes He will get it all sorted out and explained”. Jesus agrees and affirms that He for whom she waits is right in front of her.

When I think of Hope on Offense, I think of this story, here’s why:

• Hope Goes Where God Points: Jesus stops at this well in Samaria, not because it’s easier or faster or because He likes the scenery, it’s because God wants Him to. That “had to” that John says, in Greek, isn’t a physical force, it’s a divine imperative.
• Hope Knows No Boundary: Geography, background, ethnicity, current life choices…Hope is comfortable hanging around any mix of these things, even when humans aren’t.
• Hope Engages Hard Questions: The lady chose to jump right in at the painful, hard question of the day, nay, the last half-millennia. But Jesus had an answer, one that pointed to reconciliation and to a hopeful future. He wasn’t afraid of engaging in disputes over finer points of the law or human behavior, but what the lady at the well needed was to see where all of this was going.
• Hope Multiplies: When the lady at the well sees Jesus for who He is, she can’t help but share. And the village, regardless of what she or we may presume about their judgment or rendering of her, respond to her call and come see for themselves. And “many more believed” and come to “…know that this really is the Savior of the world.”

Guided Prayer

Father,
Teach me to go where You point, even when it’s not the easy road.
Give me eyes like Jesus — to see the person instead of the label, to speak grace instead of retreating from hard questions.
Let my hope cross boundaries, start conversations, and draw others toward You.
And when You reveal Yourself in unexpected places, help me to run back and tell the story so others can come and see.
Fill me with living water, Lord, until it overflows into the lives around me.
In Jesus’ name, amen.

There was no way in.

The fellas had expected a crowd, of course, as they weren’t the only ones to hear about this man named Jesus who was casting out demons and healing the sick. They had heard of the man of the tombs in Gadara who he set free from the evil that had overcome him. And they had heard of his willingness to restore the man who had leprosy outside of town. Whatever power this Jesus was working with, they had desperate need of it.

But they had walked all this way, carrying their paralyzed friend, and it seemed like the whole town was between them and Jesus. Every time they tried to push through the way was blocked. They couldn’t hear the words Jesus was speaking, just the reaction of the crowd as he spoke them. And the captivated crowd wasn’t going anywhere. But neither were they, not when the only hope for their friend was in that house.

They went around the side the house and precariously climbed the ladder, friend and mat and all, and made their way to the roof, the dulled voice of Jesus teaching below them. And in an act of benevolent vandalism, they began to unroof the roof. First the thatch, then the mud, then the sticks, then through, daylight pouring into the room, giving them away as the vandals. But they didn’t stop there, they kept going, more thatch, more mud and more sticks, until there was enough room to lower their friend to Jesus.

Jesus watched, no doubt smiling, watching the men. Seeing their faith, he looked at the paralyzed man and said, “Man, your sins are forgiven”. This is a confounding declaration. The men on the roof were expecting a physical healing for their trouble. The religious leaders in the room were taken aback at the audacity of someone proclaiming that they can speak into reality the forgiveness of sins. This was blasphemy.

Jesus knew what they were thinking, of course. The man’s sins had been forgiven, but it wasn’t something anyone could see, wasn’t something that could be proven. So Jesus took what happened inside the man and made it true on the outside as well. “Take up your mat and walk,” he told the now formerly paralyzed man. And that man walked out of that house through the very door he could not enter moments before, healed.

When I think Hope on Offense, I think of this story, here’s why:

• Hope Persists: The friends could have given up when they saw the crowds. They could have consoled themselves that they did their best and walked away on good intentions. But they would not be put off by the world that stood in their way or the effort it would take to get their friend up the ladder or the scowling looks it would draw to unroof the roof. They risked it all so their friend could meet Jesus.
• Hope Speaks for the Silent: The paralyzed man never speaks. He can’t yell from the rear of the crowd, he doesn’t explain himself as he’s being lowered down, he doesn’t tell his back story to Jesus to justify why he should be healed. He is carried by the faith and persistence of his friends and it is that faith that Jesus calls out in his healing.
• Hope Makes the Invisible Visible: Love is an action and rescue a tangible reality, not just an inner affirmation. Jesus gifts this understanding to the man, his friends, the crowd, and the pessimistic religious leaders by healing the man physically in the same way he brought restoration within his soul. Just as well, sometimes when we pray with our hearts God answers with our hands and feet, our eyebrows and elbows, our voices and treasure and time.

Guided Prayer

Father,
Give me the kind of hope that won’t quit when the way is blocked.
Make me willing to carry my friends when they can’t walk, and stubborn enough to unroof whatever stands between them and You.
Teach me to trust that what You do on the inside is just as real as what everyone can see on the outside.
And give me courage to follow You even when it offends the crowd, and may my trust in You create within them a holy confusion that resolves in Your arms.
In Jesus’ name, amen.

Grigor’s father, Anak, was an assassin. His assignment was the Armenian king Khosrov II, targeted by a neighboring ruler who wanted a more pro-Persian, anti-Rome ruler on the throne. As a kinsmen of Khosrov, Anak had the ability to get access to the king as well as likely support to take over the throne at his demise. Although successful in murdering the king, the plot found no sympathy with the Armenian elite who turned against Anak, killing him and most of his family.

The infant Grigor was rescued and rushed out of the country by a nurse to Cappadocia where he was raised by a Roman family of Christians. When Grigor became a man, he returned to Armenia, entering into the service of King Tiridates III (the son of the murdered king). Tiridates did not know Grigor’s true identity as Anak’s son. Grigor served faithfully, but he refused to take part in pagan sacrifices to the goddess Anahit. When his refusal became known, Tiridates discovered his lineage and saw him as both a traitor’s son and an enemy of the gods.

In anger, the king ordered Grigor to be thrown into a deep pit (later known as Khor Virap, “the deep dungeon”), where he remained for thirteen years. During this time, Christian women secretly brought him food and kept him alive.

Meanwhile, Tiridates continued to persecute Christians. Among those he executed was a group of virgin nuns led by Hripsime, who had fled from Rome to Armenia. After their martyrdom, legend says that King Tiridates was struck with madness, wandering the forests and living like a wild beast (kind of like Nebuchadnezzar). His court and his nobles, desperate to save him, remembered Grigor, the man they had left in the pit. They reasoned that perhaps the God Grigor served could heal the king.

Grigor was brought up from the pit, weak but still alive. He prayed for Tiridates, and the king was restored to his right mind. In gratitude and awe, Tiridates freed Grigor, ended the persecution of Christians, and declared himself a follower of Christ.

At Grigor’s urging, Tiridates summoned his nobles and declared Christianity the official faith of Armenia. This event, traditionally dated to 301 AD, is remembered as the first time an entire nation formally adopted Christianity as its state religion.

When I think Hope on Offense, I think of this story, here’s why:

• Hope Reconciles: Grigor could have stayed in Cappadocia, away from the risk of being found out in Armenia and the shame his family’s actions had left behind for him. But he went back anyway, to serve the new king, to serve his country, and possibly bring the good news of Jesus to Armenia.
• Hope Takes Risks: Those ladies could have been arrested or worse for bringing food to Grigor to sustain him as he he was imprisoned in the pit but they did it anyway. They put the needs of the man in the pit above their own, they risked their lives for a brother, they served the least of these, and thus served Jesus.
• Hope Plays the Long Game : After 13 years in the pit at the direction of the king, one might expect Grigor to be a bit surly about the whole thing and be less inclined to participate in Tiridates’ rescue from despair and madness. But this is what he came for. The pit had to happen, it had to be lived through to get to the situation where Grigor could show his dedication and service to the king and through that be able to introduce Jesus to the Armenians. And every day in that pit was one step closer to that reality coming to be.

Guided Prayer:

Father,
I don’t like the pit, but I see what You do with it.
Teach me to trust that even the long, silent years are moving toward something You’re building.
Give me courage like Grigor — to go back into places I’d rather avoid, to reconcile when bitterness would be easier.
Give me boldness like those women — to risk for the sake of someone who can’t repay me.
And give me patience — the kind that can sit in the pit until the day You call me out, ready to bring hope to someone who needs it.
Use me, Lord, to turn hearts toward You.
In Jesus’ name, amen.

Paul and and his friend Silas found themselves in prison. Earlier that week a slave girl kept following them around proclaiming that they were servants of the Most High God. Although true, Paul got annoyed with it and cast the spirit out of the girl, which is good news for her, but bad news for her owner who was basically selling her services as a fortune teller (although it is unclear whether her having a demon made her better or worse at this). Owner gets mad, gets in league with a bunch of other fellas, including local judges, who strip Paul and Silas (probably to their nuthin’s), beat them with rods, and throw them into jail, putting their feet in stocks as a kicker. Rough times.

At midnight, the bros are in their cell singing hymns when an earthquake happens, opening up all the cells and loosening all the chains (these are the hallmarks of YHWH’s freedom, unlike some rando earthquake, which is markedly less precise in its impact). Jailer wakes up, sees all the doors open, and decides to kill himself (likely because that was going to be his punishment for allowing a jailbreak anyway, plus it saved him the dishonor of being executed in front of everyone).

But no, Paul says “Don’t worry, we’re all here” and then proceeds to tell this man that Jesus Saves. Guard takes Paul and Silas to his own house so this Good News can be shared with his family. Everyone believes, gets baptized and celebrates, then Paul and Silas go back into the jail.

When I think Hope on Offense, I think of this story, here’s why:

• Hope Keeps Going: Paul had already been stoned and beaten in a few other places prior to this, and yet he kept on moving and sharing the message of rescue, repentance and freedom.
• Hope Praises in Uncertainty: In a dark hour on the floor of a dirty cell, feet bound, body aching, Paul and Silas sing to Jesus. They don’t know what the next day will bring but they trust God is good and sing the reminders of that fact when the world that surrounds them makes it difficult to believe it.
• Hope Draws a Crowd: We’re told that the prisoners around them were listening as they sang. And the jailer, when he sees that the bros didn’t make a break for it, suddenly realizes his view of the world doesn’t fit with what he’s seeing in these two fellas and wants to reconcile himself to whatever it is they are representing. Their actions brings him to ask, “What must I do to be saved?”
• Hope Serves: Who doesn’t run when the doors open? Who witnesses to and baptizes a man who is keeping you in prison under very dubious pretenses? Who then extends this grace to his family? And then who goes back into the jail to see what tomorrow brings? These fellas do, because fleeing any of this doesn’t provide the opportunity to serve those around them. Their escape would mean the guard’s death. The credibility of the gospel is upheld in their trust and patience, not in their self-preservation.

Guided Prayer:

Father, I want the kind of hope that sings in chains. The kind that doesn’t need the outcome before I can trust You.
Give me faith that looks at the darkness around me and still praises Your name.
Teach me to serve people even when it costs me comfort, and to love people who haven’t loved me back.
And when You open doors, help me to move where You’re moving — or stay put if staying puts Your name on display.
I believe You still set captives free.
In Jesus’ name, amen.