This is an odd book for us in 2025—
regulations, rhythms, sabbaths, soil—
but liberty is etched
on the Liberty Bell in Philadelphia:
“Proclaim liberty throughout the land
to all its inhabitants.”
Leviticus, of all things.
We want to be free.
God wants it more.
He etched freedom into the calendar—
every fiftieth year,
a holy reset,
a factory restore
for a fractured world.
Imagine Sarah,
her cupboards bare,
her dignity dented.
One last asset—her home—
sold to Harry,
who already owns ten.
His wallet fattens,
hers empties into a cycle
of loan and interest
and slow unravelling.
But then—
Jubilee.
The land returns.
Debts dissolve.
Slaves walk free.
Not by market forces,
but by mercy.
Because the land is God’s,
and we are renters,
foreigners,
guests.
He built a system
where gain knows limits
and loss meets hope.
Where the rich remember
they too were poor once.
Where generosity isn’t an afterthought—
it’s a sign of holiness.
They probably never did it.
No record of Israel
actually living the Jubilee.
And us?
We cling to our deeds
and bank apps
and long-range plans
like they are eternal.
We name our trust “success”
and our fear “prudence.”
But God says—
none of it is yours.
It’s all gift.
So how will you live,
with your job,
your side hustle,
your house deposit,
your student debt,
your second fridge?
Will you defend the poor?
Or just pity them?
Jesus took a scroll once—
unrolled it,
then he said,
‘Today
this Scripture
is fulfilled in your hearing’.
A mic drop.
A trumpet blast.
The true Jubilee begins.
Jesus became poor
so we could be rich in mercy.
He gave up everything
so we could be free
from everything
that enslaves.
The Jubilee begins again
in every act of mercy,
every cancelled debt.
The land is not ours.
Our time is not ours.
Our lives are not ours.
And thank God for that.
Original message by Andrew West & Lily Strachan
The Bridge Church Macquarie Park NSW
29 June 2025
The Afterword 
Leave a comment