Leah Farmer

Personal perspectives on faith, literature, and life.

On Redemption: Jesus Feminist

“This is the mark of a soul in pursuit of Jesus: we recognize him. He’s there in the stuff of the soul, the tendrils of the spirit. We’re like those who dream of home, but, like Anna, we know–the truth is there in our hearts the whole time. We see glimpses of him, and we have a holy hunch. He drifts like smoke or storms in like flashes of lightening insight or takes our breath when he appears even as a tiny baby in our own temples. We have these moments of transcendence, as if the thin veil between heaven and earth is fluttering in the most normal and ordinary moments of our lives, and then we can’t breathe for the loveliness of the world and each other, and just like that, our souls remember something: we recognize him here.”

Sarah is writing of Anna in the temple. Old Anna whose life had not turned out the way she wanted or intended. Anna who recognized the baby Jesus and held him. And praised his name. And whose waiting was made purposeful.

Redemption.

God is in the redemption business. As a person who is still wrestling with what my faith looks like…what to call what I believe…how to use the holy gifting The Divine has given me…the redemptive work of God is critical. It’s massive. It’s so very important.

And I know that God is still at it because I have those moments. Holy Moments. Moments when I’m standing in the hallway with a friend crying and sharing life changes. Moments when the sun hits the water on The Sound just right and I think “whoa”. Moments when despite all the lonely moments of a solitary life, I feel buffeted, blanketed, surrounded, held, and protected.

Jesus is in that. Redemption is in that. No such thing as wasted time. All of it means something and Jesus is in the thick of it with me. Handing me a towel to wipe my sweating wrestling brow…then tagging in to take over the match…then giving me another shot in the ring. Always always always redeeming the lost moments, the tears, the struggles, the sin, the hurt, the past, the tomorrows that don’t look like I intended them to, the yesterdays that still rise up to bite me on the ass.

Redemption. Ordinary moments. Holy Hunches. All of it rings full of humanity. Here now. Not up there then. Redemption.

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