Stay Woke
“But while men slept, his enemy came and sowed tares among the wheat, and went his way.” Matt 13:25
#kingdom #love #king #jesus #god #faith #christ #church #life #bible #christian #art #royal #uk #anime #queen #unitedkingdom #united #follow #worship #manga #fellowship #monarchy #christianity #music #holyspirit #history #community #prayer #bhfyp
Parashat VaYakhel-Pekudei
Holy Place, Holy Time
Our double Torah portion concludes the tabernacle section of the Book of Exodus. It tells how the various parts of the tabernacle were fashioned, then it describes the erection of the building, the placing of all its appurtenances in their proper places, and finishes with a financial report on the amounts of precious metals used and an inventory of the special textiles incorporated.
Surprisingly, the Torah “interrupts” the account to instruct the Israelite on laws of Shabbat observance. The Torah tells us that labor (melakhah, dignified, creative work), that is, creation, is prohibited on the Shabbat (Exodus 35:2-3). The traditional commentaries scramble to explain the insertion of a seemingly unrelated set of laws. In his commentary Rashi suggests that the Shabbat instruction is inserted here—before the construction is described—to underscore that the work of building the tabernacle is prohibited on Shabbat.1 The holy work of building a house in which to meet and serve God, nevertheless, must stop on Shabbat. Getting the sanctuary done faster is not religiously significant enough to interfere with the global Shabbat instruction to live a day of pure being, dedicated to internal reflection and relationship. (Only pikuah nefesh, saving a life, is weighty enough to override the Shabbat prohibition of labor, because life is Judaism’s highest value).
There is another possible approach. These Shabbat laws are not an interruption but a juxtaposition. Shabbat represents sacred time. The tabernacle represents sacred space. These two phenomena are closely related. They are parallel to each other and they play an identical role in the ecology of Jewish religion. Hence they appear together in our Torah portion.
The key goal of Judaism, as I have argued in this series, is to repair and perfect the world so life will flourish to its fullest degree. In the Messianic age, human honor and dignity—the infinite value, equality, and uniqueness of every individual—will be upheld on a daily basis in real life. Living the Jewish covenant involves working in every generation to overcome the inequalities inflicted by poverty, oppression or discrimination, as well as to end the life-degrading effects of hunger, war, and sickness. We work on the present reality in an effort to improve it. There is a real tension between the ideal we strive for and what can be done in the present status quo. This tension is the dynamic which generates the energy to pursue our activities at an intense (covenantal) level and strive to live by the higher values in our daily lives. Given that the pace of covenantal improvement is incremental, we spend our whole lives in this work and the task is passed on to the next generation.
The challenge is: How do we keep up the present impact of the ideal, when its actual realization is so far away? The covenantal process generates a real danger, that one will participate in—and then accommodate—the present reality, so as to slip into its routine. One may even unconsciously come to accept the norms and expectations of the status quo. How can we avoid selling out the dream and the mission?
There is a second danger. “What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun?”2 How do we not lose the intensity and drawing power of the dream? This is the Achilles heel of the covenantal method, with its commitment to function in the present reality while working to change it.
The Jewish tradition deals with this challenge by creating sacred time and sacred space. The future perfected world is brought forward into the present in the form of a “mini-cosmos,” a miniature version of the ultimate goal. In the realm of time, the Torah carves out one day of the week, Shabbat. A. J. Heschel calls it an “island in time.”3During these twenty-five hours, one experiences the ultimate reality-to-come. On Shabbat, there is no labor (melakhah), i.e. dignified creative work to upgrade the world. This is not so much a prohibition as it is an imagined future fantasy, turned into a present experience. On this day, the world is complete, so there is nothing left to do.4
In a perfect world, one needs only to be, to live, to relate to family and friends, to self-develop, to learn Torah, to make love, to have family meals with time for conversation, to sing songs, to learn, as well as to enjoy company and guests. On Shabbat, good food and wine is provided to deepen the pleasure. On Shabbat there is no war, no deprivation, no public mourning. In effect, one lives in Messianic time and experiences the joys of a completely repaired world and the delight of a fully human experience with no distraction or anxieties to mar the day. For now, this is only twenty-five hours and the peace and perfection are artificially created in that the rest of the world is not keeping Shabbat. But for the practitioner, the promised future perfection is present, vivid, and real.5
The same function is carried out in the creation of sacred space. In this building—be it tabernacle or temple—one carves out a mini-world. It is made of precious, permanent, non-decaying metals, like gold and silver, to symbolize eternity and the absence of decay and death. In this space, no human death is present. Even people who have been in proximity to death and as a result become ritually impure, cannot enter until they have undergone a purification and rebirth-to-life ceremony. In this space, the priests are perfect physical specimens, foreshadowing the Messianic era with full cure of disabilities that handicap people.6 Everyone is ethically on their best behavior.7 There is no war, no strife, no clashing interests. One feels the presence of God in the absence of evil and in the unity of the divine and human in common cause. Again the Messianic reality is only inside this one building. But the experience is vivid and real.
This is the covenantal method of keeping the dream alive. A mini-redeemed world is set up and experienced deeply in time and space now. The encounter is so powerful that the participant knows that this is real - not just an idle fantasy. Thanks to this present experience, the future is not some distant star that is too far away to exercise gravitational pull. Then when one walks out of the Temple or re-enters the weekday, one sees with fresh eyes all the flaws, the missing qualities, the compromises of the present. Energized by the taste of the messianic, the religious celebrant determines not to settle for the status quo but to change it.
This is the covenantal method of world transformation which the Torah portion holds up as twin tracks on the way to tikkun olam, world repair. Start by redeeming one day, then widen the liberation steadily into Sunday, Monday—until all seven days are perfected. Start with one ideal building, then extend it to one city, then into one country. Keep on extending the zone of life, freedom, perfection, get some allies along the way, and some day the whole world will be redeemed, a Garden of Eden with liberty and justice, love and peace for all.
Shabbat Shalom.
⚠️ Under Construction
“GOD ’s the one who rebuilds Jerusalem, who regathers Israel’s scattered exiles. He heals the heartbroken and bandages their wounds. He counts the stars and assigns each a name. Our Lord is great, with limitless strength; we’ll never comprehend what he knows and does. GOD puts the fallen on their feet again and pushes the wicked into the ditch.”
Psalm 147:2-6 MSG
https://www.bible.com/97/psa.147.2-6.msg
#kingdom #love #king #jesus #god #faith #christ #church #life #bible #christian #art #royal #uk #anime #queen #unitedkingdom #united #follow #worship #manga #fellowship #monarchy #christianity #music #holyspirit #history #community #prayer #bhfyp
How to pray when you are tempted by anger
Five Things to Pray
I do not know if you, who are reading this, are struggling with anger. If you are, I do not know what is making you angry. It may be something very deeply distressing. I cannot, therefore, write to you as a pastor could speak, having listened to your heart and prayed with you and perhaps wept with you as you weep. I want simply to offer five pointers from the Bible, five things you might focus on in your prayers as you seek to do the heart work necessary in your own circumstances. You may wish to talk this over with a brother or sister in Christ or with a pastor.
1. Pray for a deeper conviction of your own sin.
I want—with fear and trembling—to begin with something deeply counter-intuitive. I want to encourage you to ask God to show you as never before the depth and misery of your own sin. Wow! you say. That is outrageous! I come to you with some terrible grievance, some story of how another has wronged me, and all you can do is try to tell me how bad I am. That is pastoral insensitivity indeed!
And yet that is, as I understand it, what the Lord Jesus does in Matthew 18:21–35. A brother or sister in Christ has offended me. I am struggling to forgive them. And Jesus tells me a story in which, however big the debt the wrongdoer owes to me (and it is not trivial), the debt on which I need to meditate is the astronomical debt that I owe
Astronomical! Lord, show me more of my own sin. And that—paradoxically—will begin to put my heart in the place where I can address the bitter anger that is eating me up. Help me grasp how much you have forgiven me in Jesus. Please.
2. Pray for the Holy Spirit to make you angry about the right things.
My problem—and it may be yours—is that I am naturally angry when my own treasures are attacked, my own reputation damaged, my own comfort threatened, my own control compromised, my own projects opposed. What I want is all directed the wrong way, to spend on my own desires and passions (James 4:3).
The Bible tells me I ought to be furiously angry—with the anger of Jesus and the anger of the Spirit of God—when the honor of God the Father is attacked (John 2:17), when the wicked turn away from God’s good law (Ps. 119:53), when Jesus is dishonored and the Bible despised. I am not to be angry because this might damage my own reputation as a pastor, but because I care for the honor of God. Because I long deeply for his righteousness and his kingdom.
It is easy enough to say this but an extraordinarily deep and difficult task to achieve it, for it means a change deep in my heart. And such a change cannot even begin except the Spirit of Jesus should work radically in me. Only God can do this. I need, therefore, to make it a definite focus of my prayers. Lord, change me so that I care less about myself and more deeply about your honor and glory in your world.
3. Pray for the wisdom from above.
James promises that “if any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him” (James 1:5). That is a wonderful promise. I used to think it meant I could ask God to know which way to go in life’s big and little decisions. But when James talks about wisdom again in chapter 3, it is clear that wisdom is not so much knowing what decision to take as growing in godly character (James 3:13–18). In particular, if I am struggling with ungodly anger, then only the wisdom that comes from above will shape me to be “pure . . . peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruit.” So I can claim the promise of James 1:5in my struggle with anger because God has promised to give me a slow-growing, long-lasting, deep-rooted wisdom from above that will change the person I am. That is a very wonderful promise indeed, and one worthy of some intentional praying!
Because God is angry with injustice and evil, you and I can leave space for his anger by not taking the law into our own hands.
4. Pray for the ability to leave room for the anger of God.
“Beloved, never avenge yourselves,” writes Paul, “but give place to the wrath of God” (Rom. 12:19). People often say they don’t like the idea of an angry God. Behind this is sometimes the thought that an angry God leads to angry Christians who with then act with violence like the religious fanatics of some other religions. But when we understand the Bible’s teaching about the wrath of God, it has precisely—precisely!—the opposite effect on us. If God is not angry at wrong, then it is all down to me and my fellow religious fanatics: we must put things right; and if necessary, by violent actions. But, precisely because God is angry with injustice and evil, you and I can leave space for his anger by not taking the law into our own hands. This is what the psalmists repeatedly do as they pray for God to act in judgment on the wicked.
If I, or one dear to me, has been wronged, the bitter anger that can eat up my heart is fueled by the unspoken thought that only I—or we—can put this right. The more terrible the wrong the deeper the resentment and bitterness digs into our souls. Some wrongs are just so destructive and dark that it feels that only a lifetime of bitter anger can hope to address them. Such would be true, for example, of the wickedness of physical or sexual abuse of a child. In many parts of the world and at many times in church history, the sufferings of the martyrs have been such that only hope in the last judgment of God can take away this gangrenous bitter anger. If this is you in any measure, please hear again the word of Romans 12. You do not need to avenge yourself because you may be completely confident that “vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord” (Romans 12:19, quoting Deuteronomy 32:35).
5. Pray for Jesus to return soon.
For my final pointer, I want to come back to the letter of James. As we read through the letter it becomes clear that many of the Christians to whom James writes are suffering bitter injustice. They have plenty of reason to be angry—very angry, furiously angry. In James 5:1–6 we meet some of the oppressors and hear a vigorous—terrifying!—word of imminent judgment on them (a word which ought to encourage us to search our hearts lest we too be guilty). And then, in James 5:7–11, he stirs his hearers to “be patient . . . until the coming of the Lord.” For Jesus will return very soon. He is “standing at the door.” Pray that he will come soon, for this is what he has promised: “Surely I am coming soon.”
Amen. Come, Lord Jesus! (Rev. 22:20).
Reading the Megillah
Reading the Megillah
The Scroll of Esther, which tells the Purim story, is chanted in synagogue twice on Purim.
The Scroll of Esther, known as the Megillah, is chanted in the synagogue on the eve of Purim and again the next morning. It is the last of the five scrolls that form part of the third division of the Bible, known as the Ketuvim, or Writings.
Megillat Esther tells the story of the salvation of the Jews of the Persian Empire. The Scroll of Esther is universally known as the Megillah, not because it is the most important of the five scrolls, but due to its immense popularity, the prominence that is given to its public reading, and the fact that it is the only one that is still generally read from a parchment scroll. At one time, it was normative for every Jewish household to possess a Megillah, and much time and skill were devoted to the production of beautifully illuminated texts and elaborate wooden and silver cases that would house the scroll.
The primary synagogue observance connected with Purim is the reading of the Book of Esther, called the Megillah (“scroll”). It is traditionally read twice: in the evening, after the Amidah prayer of the Maariv service and before the Aleinu, and in the morning after the Torah reading.
The Megillah is read from a parchment scroll that is written the same way a Torah is written — by hand, with a goose quill. If there is no such scroll available, the congregation may read the Book of Esther from a printed text, without the accompanying benedictions.
The Book of Esther is chanted according to a special cantillation used only in the reading of the Book of Esther. [This cantillation parodies the tropes used for reading at other times of the year.] If no one is present who knows this cantillation, it may be read without the cantillation, as long as it is read correctly. According to the Code of Jewish Law (Orach Chayim 690:9), it may be read in the language of the land. In practice, however, the usual custom is to chant the Megillah from the scroll in its original Hebrew.
Before the reading, the custom is to unroll the scroll and fold it so that it looks like a letter of dispatch, thus further recalling the story of the great deliverance.
The Megillah must be read standing and from the scroll, not by heart. During the reading, there are four special verses, called “verses of redemption” (pesukei ge’ulah) that are [traditionally] said aloud by the congregation and then repeated by the reader. [Esther 2:5, 8:15-16, 10:3]
At certain key points in the Book of Esther, it is a custom for the reader to raise his or her voice, adding drama to the story. [Esther 1:22, 2:4, 2:17, 4:14, 5:4, 6:1. In this last verse the king cannot sleep and commands that the book of records of chronicles be read to him. This is considered to be the turning point in the Esther story.]
Another interesting part of the chanting of the Book of Esther is the four verses (Esther 9: 7-10) enumerating the 10 sons of Haman. The custom, already mentioned in the Talmud (Megillah 16b), is for the reader to chant the names of Haman’s sons in one single breath, in order to signify that they died together. Another reasons for this custom is the fact that we should avoid the appearance of gloating over their fate, even though it was deserved.
Congregational Participation
It is a widespread custom for the listeners at the Megillah reading to make noise, usually with special noisemakers called graggers, or in Hebrew ra’ashanim, whenever Haman’s name is mentioned. Some congregations also encourage the use of wind and percussion instruments as noisemakers.
The custom of blotting out the name of Haman appears to be the outgrowth of a custom once prevalent in France and Provence, where the children wrote the name of Haman on smooth stones, then struck them together whenever Haman was mentioned in the reading so as to rub it off, as suggested by the verse “the name of the wicked shall rot” (Proverbs 10:7).
Many modern-day congregations today are known to hold concurrent readings of the Megillah, each reading specially tailored to a particular age group or level of understanding. The singing of Purim songs during the reading of the Megillah, dressing up in costume, and other acts of frivolity are also part of today’s modern Megillah-reading festivities.
Rabbi R. Isaac’s
The Greater One
You don’t have to HUNT for it, if you have HIM
You don’t have to SEEK greater when you POSSESS the greater ONE!