What if the thing you're most ashamed of became the thing you're most celebrated for?

That's the story of Rahab. In Joshua 2, she's introduced by a name she can't escape: Rahab the prostitute. The king of Jericho knows her. Everyone knows her. And yet, when two Israelite spies show up needing help, something in her has already shifted. She's heard what the God of Israel has done, and her response isn't fear. It's faith. She hides the spies, lies to the king's men, and negotiates a deal on behalf of her family.

The sermon returns again and again to a simple phrase: it's not what you've done that matters. It's who you're becoming and what you do. When Rahab uses the personal name of God, she's no longer just Rahab the prostitute. She's a worshiper. And when the walls of Jericho fall, her house is the one section left standing because of a crimson rope hanging from a window, a quiet echo of the Passover. Her heart changed. Her actions changed. Her legacy changed. Three times in the New Testament she's still called by her old name, not to shame her, but to celebrate how far grace can reach.