The Scarlet Cord

“‘Behold, when we come into the land, you shall tie this scarlet cord in the window through which you let us down, and you shall gather into your house your father and mother, your brothers, and all your father's household. Then if anyone goes out of the doors of your house into the street, his blood shall be on his own head, and we shall be guiltless. But if a hand is laid on anyone who is with you in the house, his blood shall be on our head.’” —Joshua 2:18-19

She walks the streets of Jericho, clutching tightly to the garment that, moments earlier, was tossed to the ground for a man she didn’t know. Yet another night added to the history of her career. Another night that would further mark her as a target for societal judgment. She’s positioned at the height of public disdain. She is weighed down by the all-consuming nature of shame. The reverberation of disgrace silences her voice. 

She’s familiar with maneuvering through the dark and finds comfort in the moon. The same moon her ancestors have worshipped for centuries. The same moon supposedly owned by the lunar deity, Yarikh, whose name is rooted in the name of her city. Yarikh is married to the sun goddess, Shapash. But she isn’t as fond of the sun. The sun typically supports her humiliation-- its light exposing her to the embarrassment she’d rather avoid. Humorously, Yarikh isn’t fond of the sun either, remarrying the goddess Nikkal. 

As she walks home, she gazes upon the objects of Yarikh’s worship, wondering if he could perform the miracles she’s heard rumors about. Miracles performed by a God whose people exist beyond Jericho.

She finds her way home by tracking the slowly disappearing stars that find their late-night residence above the walls of her city. She lives inside that famed structure, further marginalizing her from her community. Ironically, the impenetrable walls that protect the city from outsiders also protect her from its insiders. Her home, fortified and indestructible, served as her place of comfort and safety in a society that considered her unworthy of either. 

When she returns home, she patiently waits for the sun to replace the moon and clouds to fill the sky. From her window, she peers out over the city she’s known all her life. She watches as women bustle to the markets, reminiscing about her childhood. Her city, known for its fruit cultivation, produced the sweetest citrus, pomegranates, and grapes. There was once a time when her arrival at those markets would be met by an earnest smile. The merchants once spoke her name with grace and respect. 

From another window, she peers out over the territory her city is barricaded from. She wonders about the vast lands—their traditions, their cultures, their foods, and their gods. Sometimes, the idea of starting over finds refuge in her thoughts—coddling her insecurities by teasing an unattainable reality. Redemption is far out of reach, especially from the hands of a harlot. She is stained by her decisions. Each night, man, payment, and appearance at a brothel gradually erased her esteem. She was soiled beyond cleansing. Her reputation is solidified. 

Rahab, the prostitute. 

This title, which often replaced her birth-given name, would follow her for the remainder of her days. It no longer matters who Rahab, the woman, is. Her hobbies, opinions, and joys were disregarded; if not stereotyped. Rahab, the daughter, failed her parents. Any possible nuance to her childhood was unimportant. Rahab, the friend, could only spend time with a select group of people— those who were familiar with her lifestyle. Who else would want to be seen with her? Who else would take the time to get to know her? This title would be her only identity as it overshadowed every other aspect of her character. 

Or so she thought.

On one unassuming night, two men insisted on being let into her home. She could tell they were different. She resonates with different—allowing them to enter and treating them as welcome guests. They identified as Israelite spies. Recalling the rumors she’d heard in passing, she quickly recognized the significance of what seemed to have happened by chance. Israel was the chosen city of a deity named Yahweh. This was the God who performed miracles her gods never did. The God whose name causes men and women alike to cower in fear. The God who reigns above even the highest authority, destroying pharaohs, kings, and their legacies. The God who parts great seas, leading His people in a triumphant procession and drowning their enemies. 

The center of her city housed Yarikh’s site of worship. However, the continual worship of Yarikh never accomplished such great feats. The same moon he supposedly owns bows to Yahweh. She begins to wonder whether these gods were gods at all, as the thought of Yahweh caused even the most devout to lose their courage. It was a common belief that this city, no matter how fortified, stood no chance before the God of Israel. 

Yahweh has a track record. 

And His strategic victories have led His people to her home.

Before long, word reached the king of Jericho that she offered shelter to the two Israelite spies. Without question, she protects them. Though they were strangers, they represented all her current life couldn’t offer: freedom and a fresh beginning. They intimately knew the God whose wonders she’d only seen in her imagination. This was a divine opportunity, possibly orchestrated by Yahweh Himself. A divine opportunity she needed to seize for the sake of herself and everyone connected to her. So she wards off the king’s pursuers, directing them outside the city and towards the Jordan—the same river that responded to the authority of Yahweh. She watched as the city gates slammed shut and then scurried to her roof. Before the spies could lie themselves to sleep, she took a bold step. 

“I know the Lord has given you this land,” she said. She knew in order to get their attention, she had to address Yahweh with reverence. The Lord, for there is no other. Her words were also laced with faith—genuine confidence and trust in the identity of their God. 

“We are all afraid of you. Everyone in the land is living in terror. For we have heard how the Lord made a dry path for you through the Red Sea when you left Egypt. And we know what you did to Sihon and Og, the two Amorite kings east of the Jordan River, whose people you completely destroyed,” she continued. All the events planted in her mind sprouted out of her lips.

“No wonder our hearts have melted in fear! No one has the courage to fight after hearing such things. For the Lord your God is the supreme God of the heavens above and the earth below,” she said. Finally, the admission. She vocalizes where her faith has shifted. In this moment, she rejects all the other gods she had lived a committed life to. There is only one God and He is not like the god of the moon or the goddess of the sun. No, He’s the God of the heavens above and the earth below. Everything belongs to Him.

“Now swear to me by the Lord that you will be kind to me and my family since I have helped you. Give me some guarantee that when Jericho is conquered, you will let me live, along with my father and mother, my brothers and sisters, and all their families,” she begs. Yahweh is all-powerful. Yahweh owns all things. So Yahweh can ensure the safety of her family.

The spies agree to her request, exemplifying the compassion and justice of their God. However, she is given one important instruction. Her obedience to this instruction was what stood between her and redemption. It would liberate her from the labels that held claim over her life. Her obedience had the power to redeem her entire household. Her obedience would separate her from the shame of her past life. Her obedience would bring her into newness, delivering her from the bondage of her profession.

Her obedience—which was symbolized by a scarlet cord hanging out her window. 

This cord marks her home as set apart. When destruction would fall upon her city, her household would be saved by the defining presence of scarlet. Though she was deserving of the very consequences her city would face, her faith secured a different fate. From this point on, the color scarlet would remind her of the mercy of Yahweh. A scarlet sign brought her into His chosen people. A scarlet sign atoned for her past life, wiping her slate clean. A scarlet sign rid her of her mistakes. A scarlet sign rewrote her legacy and attached to her an inheritance beyond her wildest dreams. 

It was as though she was born again.

She lived amongst Yahweh’s chosen people and assimilated into their culture. There was a learning curve, but by the grace of Yahweh, she was able to embrace her new identity. Over time, she began to hear more detailed accounts of Yahweh and received insight into His character. One account in particular resonated with her: the Passover. 

The Israelites were instructed to mark the doorposts of their homes with the blood of a lamb. Scarlet blood. Though this event occurred generations before her, she had a personal experience that felt similar. A unique revelation that would shape her worship. 

The salvation of Yahweh is branded by scarlet. 

Scarlet represents eternal access to redemption, even for a harlot. Scarlet removes the stains of her decisions. Each night, man, payment, and appearance at a brothel are erased. Scarlet cleanses what had been soiled, no matter how immersed she once was. 

Rahab, the prostitute, became Rahab, the wife of Salmon and mother of Boaz. 

What separated these identities was the presence of scarlet. 

The woman previously numb to the caress of a man was now married. She raised a Godly son who would one day find his wife in a woman named Ruth—a celebrated love story across the community of God. The presence of scarlet continued to redeem her story, long after she had gone to be with the God she committed her life to. For Yahweh saw such beauty in her that He included her in the genealogy of His Son: Jesus Christ. She would be known for generations, but not for her sin. She would instead be known for her faith. She is now a pillar across time and eternity, commemorating the inclusivity of the God of Israel. 

She’s born again. 

Jesus would also give the world a sign of scarlet: His blood.

Through one act of obedience—the acceptance of His sacrifice—all would be invited into the family of Yahweh. Though deserving of the consequences of sin, faith would secure a different fate. This scarlet sign still atones for the past, wiping every slate clean. This scarlet sign still rids men and women alike of their past mistakes, once and for all time. This scarlet sign still rewrites legacies and attaches an inheritance beyond natural understanding. Jesus’ blood is not limited to a specific tribe or tongue. Like Rahab’s scarlet cord, it reaches the outsider—regardless of their origin and background. 

Jesus’ blood acts as a scarlet cord, wrapped around the window of our hearts—setting apart our souls for Yahweh. The defining presence of scarlet secures our reconciliation to the Father and ransoms us from eternal damnation. His scarlet blood invites us into a fresh beginning, full of overwhelming joy and everlasting freedom. 

You can be born again.