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Tents of Mercy Congregation
Kiryat Yam, Israel
On a recent family outing in the Galilee to see spring flowers, we ended up hooked on butterflies. What is it about these mysterious, hovering creatures that so captivates our imagination?
The “Common Blue,” was just last year named the national butterfly, in honor of Israel’s 75th birthday, to promote conservation of endangered butterfly habitats and species.
Butterflies are the original “Cinderella” – arguably the most striking symbol and example of transformational potential in all of nature. They hatch from a tiny egg into an awkward, creepy-crawly, hungry little caterpillar; then into a cocoon, which undergoes a sensational metamorphosis into a creature of glowing floating color. The butterfly effortlessly gives itself to spiritual metaphor.
“…put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life … and be renewed in the spirit of your minds, to put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness.” (Ephesians 4:22-24)
In the cocoon stage, the caterpillar morphs into a clump of cells which over the course of a week and a half gradually becomes the beautiful butterfly. This stage is almost grotesque in comparison to its glorious final form and is exhaustingly motionless. The cocoon sits frozen, appearing to do nothing, with no outward sign of gracefulness or beauty. The Hebrew word for this stage is “golem.” It’s also a slang word for stupid.
Waiting indefinitely for something to happen can definitely make you feel stupid. Life is filled with opportunities to wait. Sometimes we know how long the wait will be, but sometimes not, as in the case of the families of those kidnapped on October 7th. They wait, not knowing. Unbearable waiting. Sitting, standing, crying, pacing kind-of waiting. And even when no answer or end is in sight, the soul seeks ease in hope and blind belief. More waiting. When no relief is revealed, disappointment floods in. Despairing. Grieving. Breaking and then choosing to believe and hope again despite it all.
This confusing, exhausting season is taking its toll. In a country where stress is already a national pastime, the reality of war is impacting us in ways we don’t yet grasp. Pain is hard. Grief is hard. But the thing that really wears people down is waiting with no end in sight. It makes you feel numb. Blurry. Off-kilter. We have no idea when this struggle will be over. We have no idea when or if a resolution will come. This much we know – our reality has changed forever. What happened can never be allowed to happen again. We also know that a premature ceasefire is not a solution, and yet war cannot go on without end.
Out of a Lump of Clay
Jeremiah 18 uses another image to tell a similar story. The potter molds a lump of clay, a mass of mud that initially looks like nothing and has no choice but to submit to the process and eventually be made into a creation of beauty and purpose. This is the very theme of Salvation, of the gospel message – a transformation from nothing into something, from nobody into somebody.
Esther’s Purim Transformation
Even as we celebrate Purim (um, hello, we’ve been in this scenario before!) it occurs to us that the Jews of Esther’s day were also war – weary and traumatized from murder and kidnapping and sustaining blows from a vicious enemy. The seventy-year exile had no doubt felt like a helpless, hopeless season of waiting for God to intervene. When the exile was over, the Jewish people were lost in transit. Some were eager like Ezra and Nehemiah to return and rebuild Jerusalem, but others were likely immobilized by fear and insecurity remembering the atrocities and the heartache of waiting for salvation.
Queue Esther. Esther did not merely need to overcome a girlish fear of the unknown or a hesitation to be thrown into the limelight. She was from an exiled people, orphaned of her parents and separated from the only family she knew, when she was swept into the king’s harem.
In the climax of the story, “Esther put on her royal robes and stood in the inner court of the palace, in front of the king’s hall.” (5:1)
Like the butterfly, Esther disappeared as a commoner and reappeared as a queen.
Like the lump of clay, she submitted to the molding and was formed into a vessel worthy and useful for God’s plan.
Please pray with Israel, for faith to persevere through the unknown, through transformation and for the captives to be set free.
“How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me? Look on me and answer, Lord my God. Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death, and my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,” and my foes will rejoice when I fall. But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing the Lord’s praise, for he has been good to me.” (Psalm 13)
