Schalom and vee gehts!
I have a quick kvetch for today. Most of us know about God's Big Ten. The ten things that really make Him unhappy. And most of us know that taking the Lord's name in vain is one of those things. I've been bothered lately by two of the ways that we tend to break this commandment.
The first is just mislabeling Him. Last Sunday I heard no less than four people say that I was Jesus Christ's father (ending a talk or a lesson in the name of "Thy Son"). If there's anybody not clear on how to use this, just think about who you are talking to. "Thy" means "your" so it is correct when Christ is the Son of the person you are talking to. Prayers are directed to God the Father in the name of His Son, so "Thy Son"fits. Talks, testimonies, and lessons are directed at the audience (I wouldn't presume to teach God the importance of tithing), and since no one in the audience is Christ's father, "Thy Son" is not correct.
The second way, and the way that I find harder to avoid myself, is removing the importance from Christ's role as our mediator. We do this every time we end a talk or prayer "Namff Jes Crash Men" (If you don't know what that means, try saying it out loud, maybe really fast after "I know the church is true"). This is something that I personally am working on, and I think that most of us need to think about. We say it so often that it has lost its meaning.
Well, this was supposed to be a grumpy kvetch not a preachy sermon, so I think I'll stop here. Just please, if you are guilty of either or both of these, think about it. Till next time, zay gezunt!
Herschel
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Lehi
Schalom and vee gehts!
I have been thinking about Father Lehi lately. Lehi was born a good, balebatische Jew. (I'm green with envy, I am!) As such, he must have known about the story of Moses leading the people out of Egypt into the Promised Land. The reason I bring this up is that I wonder if Lehi ever thought about that long trip through the desert during his own long trip in the druchus. He must have noticed the parallels.
Both men (Lehi and Moses) saw the Lord in the form of a fiery vision. Both were called to lead a righteous group away from a wicked group. Both men led their groups into an unknown wilderness with the hope of a Promised Land. Both groups had rebellions and talked about the gute zeiten, despite being fed from heaven. Both leaders had their moments of doubt and weakness.
I could keep listing these things, but I won't. The point is that there are lots of things that must have made Lehi think he was another Moses. I think this would have frightened him, because the last Moses didn't end up in the Promised Land. Once in a while Lehi must have caught himself thinking that he, like Moses before him, would lead the Lord's people to Eretz Zion, but would not himself be able to enter. As sad as that is, I think it makes Lehi's personal devotion even more admirable.
I think we can all learn a lesson from Lehi. He was willing to stick with it and sacrifice, even if that sacrifice was for somebody else.
And that's it for today. Till next time, zay gezunt!
Herschel
I have been thinking about Father Lehi lately. Lehi was born a good, balebatische Jew. (I'm green with envy, I am!) As such, he must have known about the story of Moses leading the people out of Egypt into the Promised Land. The reason I bring this up is that I wonder if Lehi ever thought about that long trip through the desert during his own long trip in the druchus. He must have noticed the parallels.
Both men (Lehi and Moses) saw the Lord in the form of a fiery vision. Both were called to lead a righteous group away from a wicked group. Both men led their groups into an unknown wilderness with the hope of a Promised Land. Both groups had rebellions and talked about the gute zeiten, despite being fed from heaven. Both leaders had their moments of doubt and weakness.
I could keep listing these things, but I won't. The point is that there are lots of things that must have made Lehi think he was another Moses. I think this would have frightened him, because the last Moses didn't end up in the Promised Land. Once in a while Lehi must have caught himself thinking that he, like Moses before him, would lead the Lord's people to Eretz Zion, but would not himself be able to enter. As sad as that is, I think it makes Lehi's personal devotion even more admirable.
I think we can all learn a lesson from Lehi. He was willing to stick with it and sacrifice, even if that sacrifice was for somebody else.
And that's it for today. Till next time, zay gezunt!
Herschel
King Noah, the Jerk
Schalom and vee gehts!
Now that Moishe has already apologized for both of us, I can skip that and get to the blogging.
I think I'll leave the teaching thread as an open ended series (which is to say, I have more to say about it, but don't feel like doing it now), and get back to quick thoughts that came to me when I should have been listening in Sunday School.
Recently I was thinking about the story of King Noah. Noah seems like a pretty smart cookie, and somebody who knows how to take care of himself. Then, he gets Gideon chasing him, and he runs up into a tower.
This always bothered me. I never understood why a guy who knew how to take care of himself so well would run into a tower, because towers generally have only one way in. He backed himself into a corner with no good exit strategy.
A few weeks ago, I was reading the story and realized that it was trying to tell us something: it's not that the King is stupid, it's just that nobody likes him.
Towers are full of guards. Guards are paid to make sure that crazy guys with swords don't kill the King. The King ran to the place where he was sure to find help, and not even his hired goons came to save him. Ouch.
I guess the moral of the story is that we shouldn't assume that people will always come to help us just because of our position, but that we should be good people who other people are willing to help out of love. Or maybe the moral is just that we should change King Noah's epithet from "Wicked Noah the Moron" to "Wicked Noah the Jerk Who Nobody Liked."
So, till next time, Zay Gezunt!
Herschel
Now that Moishe has already apologized for both of us, I can skip that and get to the blogging.
I think I'll leave the teaching thread as an open ended series (which is to say, I have more to say about it, but don't feel like doing it now), and get back to quick thoughts that came to me when I should have been listening in Sunday School.
Recently I was thinking about the story of King Noah. Noah seems like a pretty smart cookie, and somebody who knows how to take care of himself. Then, he gets Gideon chasing him, and he runs up into a tower.
This always bothered me. I never understood why a guy who knew how to take care of himself so well would run into a tower, because towers generally have only one way in. He backed himself into a corner with no good exit strategy.
A few weeks ago, I was reading the story and realized that it was trying to tell us something: it's not that the King is stupid, it's just that nobody likes him.
Towers are full of guards. Guards are paid to make sure that crazy guys with swords don't kill the King. The King ran to the place where he was sure to find help, and not even his hired goons came to save him. Ouch.
I guess the moral of the story is that we shouldn't assume that people will always come to help us just because of our position, but that we should be good people who other people are willing to help out of love. Or maybe the moral is just that we should change King Noah's epithet from "Wicked Noah the Moron" to "Wicked Noah the Jerk Who Nobody Liked."
So, till next time, Zay Gezunt!
Herschel
Sunday, July 06, 2008
I am Evil Martha
So...
I was dreaming this morning that I was in church, in a strange place, needing to give a talk and finding myself unprepared. And I hit upon an idea that was so good that I woke up from the dream so I could write it down for real. Although I think I've lost half of my examples.
I'm not sure that this is a really good idea. In the dream, I gave the talk while standing on top of an upright piano which was rolling around in the gym because I couldn't find the podium on the stage. So what I am saying is that this talk might not make as much sense in the waking world. But that's okay. I am still half asleep because it's not yet seven o'clock, and I think the dream has not entirely escaped me.
In the New Testament, we have the story of Mary and Martha, sisters who were friends of Jesus. One day when he was visiting them, they fed him and then be began to teach. Mary listened while Martha cleaned up the dishes from the meal. (I think I've got the sisters assigned properly here, although in the dream someone had taken my Bible and I could not remember for certain who was who, which gave me shpilkes.) Jesus tells Martha that washing the dishes is a good thing, but that it would be better for her to do like her sister and come talk about the gospel with the Savior of the world.
I've heard this story a thousand times (I would have heard it a million times if I were a girl, I think) and it makes sense. But after my dream this morning, I have a couple of questions. Why is Martha washing dishes? Was this a normal behavior for her? Was this something she would have been doing, no matter who had come over for dinner? My guess is that this was her usual behavior, and that she did it because she liked a clean house, which is a good thing. But that's not the way it works for me.
Here's an example. When I lived in Somerville, I was first counselor in the Sunday School presidency for a while. We shared the building with another ward, and both of us used the gym as a room for Sunday School. (Terrible room for teaching, FYI. Cavernous. Swallowed the sound. No one in there felt connected to the lesson or the teacher or the whole learning gestalt.)
Anyway, every Sunday, the Sunday School presidency from the other ward was responsible for putting up folding chairs in the gym before church started. And after church ended, our ward's presidency (including me) was supposed to make sure they got taken down and put away.
Well, nine times out of ten (it seemed) they didn't do their job, and when I showed up for sacrament meeting I would look into to the gym and see no chairs. So I would put up a hundred and twenty folding chairs by myself, which usually took up most of the time that people were speaking during sacrament meeting. They piped the speakers in, of course, so I told myself that it was okay because I could hear them. But like Martha, I wasn't really hearing as well as Mary, who chose to focus on listening.
Of course someone had to put up those folding chairs. But I knew every Sunday that I would need to to this. (Probably.) And I could have come early and done it before sacrament started, or come just a tiny bit early and grabbed some other dudes to help, or even got some people in our ward called to come early and do it. After all, I was in the presidency, right? The point is, it was in my power to have the folding chairs put up before sacrament meeting started, so that I could be sitting down, listening, being spiritually fed.
So why did I find myself every Sunday in the gym, putting up chairs? I should say here that unlike my earlier question about Martha, this is not a question to which I don't know the answer. I was there, I lived it, and I know why I did things the way I did them. I did it because I preferred being in the gym putting up folding chairs. Church is boring. It's even more boring than folding chairs. I never would spend thirty minutes putting up folding chairs on my own time. But I did it then because I could feel good about doing something good (as Martha did something good) while my true purpose was to avoid doing something better (as Mary did something better). My roommates used to say that they always knew when I had a big paper due because it's about the only time they would see me cleaning the apartment.
Let me say here (again) that this is not speculation. I'm talking about myself, and not anyone else, including you if you are reading this. I know my own mind, more or less. (And I am not here inventing bad motives for myself, so I have something new and fun to chastise myself about. I am not a girl. I have enough real faults to deal with.) I actually did prefer putting up the folding chairs. I really do choose to avoid doing what's best by doing something good instead.
I am Evil Martha. I only wash my dishes when God is in the next room, teaching. And I wash them because doing so prevents me from doing something better. I put up folding chairs between me and my Savior.
God help me, a sinner.
--MOISHE
PS - Sorry Herschel and I have not been posting here in a while. Yes, I know, I know. Your accusing stares and stony silences hit me like a blow to kishkas. But I can promise you, I've been spending my time worse somewhere else. (I can't speak for Herschel.)
I was dreaming this morning that I was in church, in a strange place, needing to give a talk and finding myself unprepared. And I hit upon an idea that was so good that I woke up from the dream so I could write it down for real. Although I think I've lost half of my examples.
I'm not sure that this is a really good idea. In the dream, I gave the talk while standing on top of an upright piano which was rolling around in the gym because I couldn't find the podium on the stage. So what I am saying is that this talk might not make as much sense in the waking world. But that's okay. I am still half asleep because it's not yet seven o'clock, and I think the dream has not entirely escaped me.
In the New Testament, we have the story of Mary and Martha, sisters who were friends of Jesus. One day when he was visiting them, they fed him and then be began to teach. Mary listened while Martha cleaned up the dishes from the meal. (I think I've got the sisters assigned properly here, although in the dream someone had taken my Bible and I could not remember for certain who was who, which gave me shpilkes.) Jesus tells Martha that washing the dishes is a good thing, but that it would be better for her to do like her sister and come talk about the gospel with the Savior of the world.
I've heard this story a thousand times (I would have heard it a million times if I were a girl, I think) and it makes sense. But after my dream this morning, I have a couple of questions. Why is Martha washing dishes? Was this a normal behavior for her? Was this something she would have been doing, no matter who had come over for dinner? My guess is that this was her usual behavior, and that she did it because she liked a clean house, which is a good thing. But that's not the way it works for me.
Here's an example. When I lived in Somerville, I was first counselor in the Sunday School presidency for a while. We shared the building with another ward, and both of us used the gym as a room for Sunday School. (Terrible room for teaching, FYI. Cavernous. Swallowed the sound. No one in there felt connected to the lesson or the teacher or the whole learning gestalt.)
Anyway, every Sunday, the Sunday School presidency from the other ward was responsible for putting up folding chairs in the gym before church started. And after church ended, our ward's presidency (including me) was supposed to make sure they got taken down and put away.
Well, nine times out of ten (it seemed) they didn't do their job, and when I showed up for sacrament meeting I would look into to the gym and see no chairs. So I would put up a hundred and twenty folding chairs by myself, which usually took up most of the time that people were speaking during sacrament meeting. They piped the speakers in, of course, so I told myself that it was okay because I could hear them. But like Martha, I wasn't really hearing as well as Mary, who chose to focus on listening.
Of course someone had to put up those folding chairs. But I knew every Sunday that I would need to to this. (Probably.) And I could have come early and done it before sacrament started, or come just a tiny bit early and grabbed some other dudes to help, or even got some people in our ward called to come early and do it. After all, I was in the presidency, right? The point is, it was in my power to have the folding chairs put up before sacrament meeting started, so that I could be sitting down, listening, being spiritually fed.
So why did I find myself every Sunday in the gym, putting up chairs? I should say here that unlike my earlier question about Martha, this is not a question to which I don't know the answer. I was there, I lived it, and I know why I did things the way I did them. I did it because I preferred being in the gym putting up folding chairs. Church is boring. It's even more boring than folding chairs. I never would spend thirty minutes putting up folding chairs on my own time. But I did it then because I could feel good about doing something good (as Martha did something good) while my true purpose was to avoid doing something better (as Mary did something better). My roommates used to say that they always knew when I had a big paper due because it's about the only time they would see me cleaning the apartment.
Let me say here (again) that this is not speculation. I'm talking about myself, and not anyone else, including you if you are reading this. I know my own mind, more or less. (And I am not here inventing bad motives for myself, so I have something new and fun to chastise myself about. I am not a girl. I have enough real faults to deal with.) I actually did prefer putting up the folding chairs. I really do choose to avoid doing what's best by doing something good instead.
I am Evil Martha. I only wash my dishes when God is in the next room, teaching. And I wash them because doing so prevents me from doing something better. I put up folding chairs between me and my Savior.
God help me, a sinner.
--MOISHE
PS - Sorry Herschel and I have not been posting here in a while. Yes, I know, I know. Your accusing stares and stony silences hit me like a blow to kishkas. But I can promise you, I've been spending my time worse somewhere else. (I can't speak for Herschel.)
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