living justly

In October 2024, a man named Tobie van der Westhuizen wrote to ask if I would explore some research he had been pursuing for eight years. It centered on the Greek word our English Bibles usually translate as “righteousness.”

I immediately recognized how closely his discoveries aligned with what God’s love had been teaching me for the previous thirty years. Many Zoom conversations followed. Eventually, we began writing together, and a year later, that collaboration became Just Love: How One Mistranslated Word Distorted the Gospel.

Last weekend, Tobie and I finally met face to face. We shared our first meal and then spent three days with forty people who had traveled from across the country to join our conversation.

There is no better test of whether two lives fit together as well as their words than sharing a room, a conversation, and all the little decisions that fill a weekend. I was not disappointed.

Tobie and I fit together like two living stones God had been shaping for decades on opposite sides of the world. We could share the conversation without competing for it, lay aside our own agendas, and make room for whatever God might be doing among us. I came away treasuring Tobie and his wife, Rev, not merely as collaborators, but as dear friends.

Tobie and I also recorded a podcast reflecting on the weekend, which will be released this Friday.

Something similar happened among the forty people who joined us. We began as strangers, representing many backgrounds and almost every Christian tradition. Yet from the beginning, people engaged the ideas in Just Love not merely as theology, but vulnerably, asking how God’s love might transform the struggles and relationships of their own lives.

Before long, strangers became friends. Meals stretched into rich conversations. People listened generously, shared honestly, and made room for one another.

I saw again how Jesus is shaping his bride—not through human contrivance or institutional machinery, but by his Spirit forming people in love and fitting them together as living stones. I love that so much.

Those who have read Just Love know this conversation is about far more than correcting a mistranslated word. It opens a larger understanding of the gospel, God’s purpose in creation, and how we participate with him in making all things new.

Translating the biblical word as “justice” shifts the center of gravity from our becoming morally pure to God making all things right. Moral transformation matters, but it is only part of a much greater story.

The gospel announces that, in Jesus Christ, God’s justice has entered the world—not merely to punish evil, but to forgive sin, heal the human heart, restore relationships, gather a new humanity, and make creation whole.

And where does that begin?

It begins by each of us relaxing into his love, becoming aware of his presence, and learning to live from the fullness he gives. As his love becomes real within us, we no longer need to exploit others to meet our needs or chase the world’s trinkets to fill up what we lack inside. We become free to live generously, distributing life rather than taking it.

The just life is a life full of love.

Many of us have been intimidated by a God whose “righteousness” was presented primarily as moral perfection. But when we understand his justice as the determination to make all things right, his holiness becomes not only awesome, but deeply beautiful. God will not abandon the abused. He will not ignore evil. He will not allow lies to define reality or death to have the final word. He will not leave sinners trapped in deception, nor will he discard the creation he loves.

He will make right what love created good.

That is no less holy. It is holiness as transforming power, flowing freely through love.

Many who attended asked whether we might do more gatherings like this. With Tobie living in South Africa and leading a school, such weekends are not easy to arrange. We will have to see where God might lead.

I do know that this conversation—moving from a preoccupation with personal righteousness into a life shaped by love—is important for all of us. I pray you have people with whom you can explore it honestly and live it together. I’ll have more on that in a future blog.

Let me add a personal note. Several people seemed surprised that I looked so “healthy.” Knowing that I am living with multiple myeloma and receiving chemotherapy to keep it in remission, some apparently expected me to look depleted or battle-weary.

The truth is that, if you saw me today, you would have no idea that cancer lurks within. I feel as strong as I did before my diagnosis and surgery, thanks to God’s mercy, an extraordinary medical team, and the medications that continue to hold it in check. I remain deeply grateful that none of this has diminished my ability to live, love, write, travel, and participate in weekends like this one.

The photograph below includes about half of those who joined us—the ones still present when we remembered to take a photo late Saturday. It brings back treasured memories of a weekend well spent, among living stones being shaped together by love. I am grateful to all of you and blessed that you took the time to join us.