Consecrate the fiftieth year and proclaim liberty throughout the land to all its inhabitants. It shall be a jubilee for you; each of you is to return to your family property and to your own clan. The fiftieth year shall be a jubilee for you; do not sow and do not reap what grows of itself or harvest the untended vines. For it is a jubilee and is to be holy for you; eat only what is taken directly from the fields. In this Year of Jubilee everyone is to return to their own property. – Leviticus 25:10-13
God built something unusual into Israel’s calendar – a “Jubilee Year.” Every fifty years, the land got a break. Debts were canceled, slaves were freed, and property went back to its original family. It was God’s way of protecting the poor, and reminding everyone that the land – and everything on it – belonged to Him. Nobody owned anything forever. It was a built-in system of mercy and reset.
Basically, God said, “Listen up! Stop whatever you’re doing. It’s time to rest and reset.”
It’s kind of mind-blowing when you think about it. Imagine… no bills, no to-do list, no trying to keep up. Just a big holy do-over!
But then I wonder… would I even like that? I say I want rest, but I’m not sure how I would handle God taking away my little safety nets – my routines, my paycheck, my control. Jubilee required total trust! You had to trust that God would take care of you when the fields sat empty.
And it wasn’t just about the land or money. It was about mercy, really. People who’d lost everything got another shot. Families restored. Freedom returned. God built second chances right into their calendar.
That’s beautiful. And also kind of humbling.
Because I’m not great at giving second chances. I keep score more than I care to admit. I remember what people owe me, whether in words or deeds. Maybe part of living like it’s Jubilee now is letting some of that go.
Jesus said He came to proclaim “the year of the Lord’s favor.” That sounds like Jubilee talk, doesn’t it. So maybe it’s not some ancient Old Testament calendar event after all. In fact, we could declare Jubilee every day if we wanted – every time we forgive, every time we rest, every time we remember that nothing we have is really ours anyway.
Maybe Jubilee is less about what I let go of… and more about who I’m trusting to hold me when I do.
Former Blackout Artist 