Margie & Tom are coming!
click photo to enlarge
Monday, April 25, 2005
Next expected event in our lives
The second week of May some dear friends will be coming for a couple of weeks visit. Their youngest daughter is graduating from the U of M. We are so looking forward to their visit.
Hag HaMatzah (Feast of Unleavened Bread) & Sfirat Haomer/Yom HaBikkurim
Passover started with the Passover Seder on Saturday evening for around 70 people from Beth Tephila and guests. That's down from the 90ish number of attendees the last couple of years. Yet, we had a great time celebrating the deliverance of Israel from Egypt & our own personal deliverance from the bondage of sin by the slaying of God's appointed Lamb, the Messiah. Pesach lasts eight days, during which we eat no leavened foods. Leviticus 23:6 indicates that the seven days after the seder are another feast called "Unleavened Bread". Modern observance has combined Passover and Unleavened Bread into one eight-day festival called Pesach. We eat a lot of matzah crackers during Pesach. They are great with butter, honey, jams, charoseth or any other topping, since they have little to no taste themselves.
The series of spring holy days continues with the arrival of Sfirat Haomer, First Fruits, sometimes called Yom HaBikkurim. Since it is often overshadowed by Passover, one wonders if Sfirat Haomer has any significance in the New Testament. Actually, the holiday is mentioned several times & my personal conviction is that it should be one of the most important festivals for believers. A close reading of I Corinthians 15 shows the vital link of Sfirat Haomer to the ministry of Messiah. As Rabbi Saul of Tarsus teaches the believers the doctrine of the resurrection, he makes an amazing connection to this Biblical holy day:
But the fact is that the Messiah has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have died. For since death came through a man, also the resurrection of the dead has come through a man. For just as in connection with Adam all die, so in connection with the Messiah all will be made alive. But each in his own order: the Messiah is the firstfruits; then those who belong to Messiah at the time of His coming...I Corinthians 15:20-23
Although many read this passage as a commentary on the order of the resurrection, Paul is actually making a technical reference to the holy day of Sfirat Haomer. It is not merely that Yeshua was the first to rise bodily from the grave, but that by so doing, He is the direct fulfillment of the feast of First Fruits!
The tradition of this harvest festival is to wave barley sheaves before the Lord. Think of it: the grain that had come from the earth was now lifted up high for all to see. Yeshua Himself alluded to His resurrection in similar terms when He said:
The time has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Yes, indeed! I tell you that unless a grain of wheat that falls to the ground dies, it stays just a grain; but if it dies, it produces a big harvest...As for me, when I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw everyone to myself (John 12:23-24, 32).
This parable was spoken to His disciples as they had come to celebrate the Passover, just before Sfirat Haomer (John 12:1, 20) The resurrection of Messiah from the dead is perfectly symbolized in the wave offering of the first fruits. The believers of the early Church, especially the Roman Church of the fourth century, began to lose touch with the Jewish understanding of the faith. However, the Church wanted to maintain a celebration of the resurrection of Messiah. Hence, the Council of Nicea (325 C.E.) established, among other edicts, that Christians would not be allowed to commemorate Passover but would observe the resurrection on a new holiday called Easter. According to this Church, Easter would be observed on the Sunday after the Spring Equinox. Consequently, today many Christians have forgotten the intimate connection between the resurrection and the Jewish holy days. It makes one wonder if it wouldn't have been simpler and clearer to continue to celebrate the great works of God at His appointed times. Is it any wonder that the Church historically has had such little awareness of its own Jewish heritage?
The series of spring holy days continues with the arrival of Sfirat Haomer, First Fruits, sometimes called Yom HaBikkurim. Since it is often overshadowed by Passover, one wonders if Sfirat Haomer has any significance in the New Testament. Actually, the holiday is mentioned several times & my personal conviction is that it should be one of the most important festivals for believers. A close reading of I Corinthians 15 shows the vital link of Sfirat Haomer to the ministry of Messiah. As Rabbi Saul of Tarsus teaches the believers the doctrine of the resurrection, he makes an amazing connection to this Biblical holy day:
But the fact is that the Messiah has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have died. For since death came through a man, also the resurrection of the dead has come through a man. For just as in connection with Adam all die, so in connection with the Messiah all will be made alive. But each in his own order: the Messiah is the firstfruits; then those who belong to Messiah at the time of His coming...I Corinthians 15:20-23
Although many read this passage as a commentary on the order of the resurrection, Paul is actually making a technical reference to the holy day of Sfirat Haomer. It is not merely that Yeshua was the first to rise bodily from the grave, but that by so doing, He is the direct fulfillment of the feast of First Fruits!
The tradition of this harvest festival is to wave barley sheaves before the Lord. Think of it: the grain that had come from the earth was now lifted up high for all to see. Yeshua Himself alluded to His resurrection in similar terms when He said:
The time has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Yes, indeed! I tell you that unless a grain of wheat that falls to the ground dies, it stays just a grain; but if it dies, it produces a big harvest...As for me, when I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw everyone to myself (John 12:23-24, 32).
This parable was spoken to His disciples as they had come to celebrate the Passover, just before Sfirat Haomer (John 12:1, 20) The resurrection of Messiah from the dead is perfectly symbolized in the wave offering of the first fruits. The believers of the early Church, especially the Roman Church of the fourth century, began to lose touch with the Jewish understanding of the faith. However, the Church wanted to maintain a celebration of the resurrection of Messiah. Hence, the Council of Nicea (325 C.E.) established, among other edicts, that Christians would not be allowed to commemorate Passover but would observe the resurrection on a new holiday called Easter. According to this Church, Easter would be observed on the Sunday after the Spring Equinox. Consequently, today many Christians have forgotten the intimate connection between the resurrection and the Jewish holy days. It makes one wonder if it wouldn't have been simpler and clearer to continue to celebrate the great works of God at His appointed times. Is it any wonder that the Church historically has had such little awareness of its own Jewish heritage?
Wednesday, April 13, 2005
Passover - Spring - Rain
We are in the throes of Passover Seder preparation for about 100 guests. Louis and I have hosted this Jewish Feast & communion celebration for Beth Tephila (House of Prayer) & other friends for about 6 years now. Some of our chickens and lambs have ended up contributing a large portion of the meal! This week Louis is trimming, koshering, marinating and roasting lamb on our barbecue grill. He then freezes it for the seder. I am making matzoh balls for the matzoh ball soup and freezing them as well. I've made over 250 matzoh balls so far. Only by working ahead like this, does the seder not become overwhelming in all its preparation. I attended my first seder in the home of my future parents-in-law while I was a college student. I was a nursing student at Walter Reed Hospital in Washington, D.C. and took courses with the University of Maryland right on the campus of the Walter Reed Army Institute of Nursing. The seder opened new insights for me to my Passover Lamb. He is pictured in numerous ways throughout the experiential meal and all the Scripture passages that accompany this thousands of years-old Jewish tradition established by God for His people. It helped bring about their deliverance from Egypt and is a spectacular memorial to our Savior. The seder will be held on the evening of April 23rd this year. It is always on the 14th day of Nissan, which starts at sunset on April 23rd. Our daughter's birthday is always close to this feast. She spent her first birthday evening at a Passover Seder with Louis and I. She slept through most of it in a carrier at the side of my chair.
Monday, April 11, 2005
A Gift: Love your children for who they are, not what they do.
Tonight I heard a lecture on "Mothering Strategies to Help Kids through Changing Times." The speaker, Lisa McMinn, is a professor at Wheaton College & authored Growing Strong Daughters. She began with numerous examples of messages that permeate our culture and tell our children they will be loved for what they do and what they look like, not for who they are.
"Only the beautiful, strong and young deserve to be loved", is fed to them thousands of times in our media. Parents, without realizing that they too have bought into these cultural values, tend to reinforce them. Especially the myth of "24/7". This myth says that the busier our children ( & we) are, the more fulfilling our lives will be. She quoted from Space for God by Don Postema. "Leisure implies an attitude of non-activity, of inward calm, of silence, it means not being busy, but letting things happen. Leisure is a form of silence...only the silent hear, and those who do not remain silent, do not hear... for leisure is a receptive attitude of mind, a contemplative attitude... the capacity for steeping oneself in the whole of creation. Such an attitude pits us against compulsive busyness, against drivenness. It leads toward solitude and contemplation, toward creating an inner receptivity, a space where we can hear our deepest longings, realize what life is about, penetrate into reality. It can mean making a space for God. It is prayer." (Some of the other blogs I've read resemble this quote. Maybe that's what drew me to blogging.)
These were some of Lisa's points that got my attention:
. Being loved for who we are, not what we do, helps our children be resilient.
. If we love our children for who they are, we will let them fail & then sit with them in their failures.
. Be careful how much we praise our children for "success".
. Tell your child often, "I love you!" and don't add anything to that remark. Your child needs to know she/he is loved, just because she/he is yours. That's how God loves us.
"Only the beautiful, strong and young deserve to be loved", is fed to them thousands of times in our media. Parents, without realizing that they too have bought into these cultural values, tend to reinforce them. Especially the myth of "24/7". This myth says that the busier our children ( & we) are, the more fulfilling our lives will be. She quoted from Space for God by Don Postema. "Leisure implies an attitude of non-activity, of inward calm, of silence, it means not being busy, but letting things happen. Leisure is a form of silence...only the silent hear, and those who do not remain silent, do not hear... for leisure is a receptive attitude of mind, a contemplative attitude... the capacity for steeping oneself in the whole of creation. Such an attitude pits us against compulsive busyness, against drivenness. It leads toward solitude and contemplation, toward creating an inner receptivity, a space where we can hear our deepest longings, realize what life is about, penetrate into reality. It can mean making a space for God. It is prayer." (Some of the other blogs I've read resemble this quote. Maybe that's what drew me to blogging.)
These were some of Lisa's points that got my attention:
. Being loved for who we are, not what we do, helps our children be resilient.
. If we love our children for who they are, we will let them fail & then sit with them in their failures.
. Be careful how much we praise our children for "success".
. Tell your child often, "I love you!" and don't add anything to that remark. Your child needs to know she/he is loved, just because she/he is yours. That's how God loves us.
Crabby Old Woman
After Beth Tephila service, Oneg Shabbat (the meal after the service) and the Jewish Discussion Group the past two Saturdays, my husband & I have visited Ruth. Ruth has suffered a couple of strokes in the last 18 months. The strokes left her extremely weak on the left side, unable to communicate well anymore and unable to follow long conversations. Just before her 81st birthday in March, her family moved her to a small assisted-care home. She lives there with 8 other elderly women, but has her own bedroom, bathroom and large walk-in closet. Ruth's face lights up when she sees us, so we know that she recognizes us as friends. She tries to communicate, but quickly becomes frustrated since the words she is thinking are not the garbled words that come out of her mouth. She is sitting lopsided in the wheelchair and lost her slipper socks somewhere down the hall. She clutches a stuffed cat that she strokes and talks to. We have learned that if we sing some of the main old hymns of the faith that Ruth learned by heart and played over and over as a pianist for years, she is able to join into the singing. She correctly sings long phrases of the hymns and even harmonizes in a nice soprano voice. This week we all got carried away and sang for over an hour. Ruth was tapping her right foot, the one unaffected by the stroke. She wore a huge smile the entire hour. We hated to leave after so enjoying the visit. When we returned home, a friend had e-mailed us a selection that so fit with Ruth that it was uncanny. Here it is. It is worth the read.
Crabby Old Woman
When an old lady died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital near Dundee, Scotland, it was believed that she had nothing left of any value. Later, when the nurses were going through her meager possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital. One nurse took her copy to Ireland. The old lady's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the North Ireland Assn. for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on her simple, but eloquent, poem. And this little old Scottish lady, with nothing left to give the world, is now the author of this "anonymous" poem winging across the internet:
Crabby Old Woman
What do you see, nurses? What do you see?
What are you thinking, when you're looking at me?
A crabby old woman, not very wise,
Uncertain of habit, with faraway eye.
Who dribbles her food, and makes no reply,
When you say in a loud voice, "I do wish you'd try!"
Who seems not to notice, the things that you do,
And forever is losing, a stocking or shoe?
Who, resisting or not, lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding, the long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking? Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse, you're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am, as I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of ten, with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters, who love one another.
A young girl of sixteen, with wings on her feet,
Dreaming that soon now, a lover she'll meet.
A bride soon at twenty, my heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vows, that I promised to keep.
At twenty-five now, I have young of my own,
Who need me to guide, and a secure happy home.
A woman of thirty, my young now grown fast,
Bound to each other, with ties that should last.
At forty, my young sons, have grown and are gone,
But my man's beside me, to see I don't mourn.
At fifty once more, babies play round my knee,
Again we know children, my loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead,
I look at the future, I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing young of their own,
And I think of the years, and the love that I've known.
I'm now an old woman, and nature is cruel,
'Tis jest to make old age, look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles, grace and vigor depart,
There is now a stone, where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass, a young girl still dwells,
And now and again, my battered heart swells.
I remember the joys, I remember the pain,
And I'm loving and living, life over again.
I think of the years, all too few, gone too fast,
And accept the stark fact, that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people, open and see,
Not a crabby old woman; look closer...see ME!!
Remember this poem when you next meet an old person who you might brush aside without
looking at the young soul within... we will all, one day, be there too!
Crabby Old Woman
When an old lady died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital near Dundee, Scotland, it was believed that she had nothing left of any value. Later, when the nurses were going through her meager possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital. One nurse took her copy to Ireland. The old lady's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the North Ireland Assn. for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on her simple, but eloquent, poem. And this little old Scottish lady, with nothing left to give the world, is now the author of this "anonymous" poem winging across the internet:
Crabby Old Woman
What do you see, nurses? What do you see?
What are you thinking, when you're looking at me?
A crabby old woman, not very wise,
Uncertain of habit, with faraway eye.
Who dribbles her food, and makes no reply,
When you say in a loud voice, "I do wish you'd try!"
Who seems not to notice, the things that you do,
And forever is losing, a stocking or shoe?
Who, resisting or not, lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding, the long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking? Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse, you're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am, as I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of ten, with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters, who love one another.
A young girl of sixteen, with wings on her feet,
Dreaming that soon now, a lover she'll meet.
A bride soon at twenty, my heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vows, that I promised to keep.
At twenty-five now, I have young of my own,
Who need me to guide, and a secure happy home.
A woman of thirty, my young now grown fast,
Bound to each other, with ties that should last.
At forty, my young sons, have grown and are gone,
But my man's beside me, to see I don't mourn.
At fifty once more, babies play round my knee,
Again we know children, my loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead,
I look at the future, I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing young of their own,
And I think of the years, and the love that I've known.
I'm now an old woman, and nature is cruel,
'Tis jest to make old age, look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles, grace and vigor depart,
There is now a stone, where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass, a young girl still dwells,
And now and again, my battered heart swells.
I remember the joys, I remember the pain,
And I'm loving and living, life over again.
I think of the years, all too few, gone too fast,
And accept the stark fact, that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people, open and see,
Not a crabby old woman; look closer...see ME!!
Remember this poem when you next meet an old person who you might brush aside without
looking at the young soul within... we will all, one day, be there too!
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