Health concerns are always a faith-tester and again my mother is at the top of my prayer list. It seems like crisis like these are a supercharger for one’s prayer life, although we’d be much better off if we all prayed regularly with passion and zeal, and not just in times of crisis.
The latest is that my mother, whom God has brought safely through a stroke and pacemaker surgery in the past year, is now suffering from … well, we’re not quite sure, but the options aren’t exactly great. One possibility is that it’s pnuemonia, which would be bad enough. The other possibility is that it’s a tumor, either cancerous or non-cancerous.
The next 24-48 hours will reveal a lot; I know my mother is no spring chicken, though. She’s in her 70s and has been a lifelong smoker. My greatest comfort is that, when her time does run out and she’s called home, I know that she knows Yeshua.
That said, I am still praying that Adonai will choose, once again, to extend her days. Yet only He knows what is best.
The holiday that Jews and messianics refer to as Shavuot, and which Christians call Pentecost, is a matter of some controversy; all three groups celebrate it on a different day and some feel it might take a CAT5e to figure out the truth.
Well, that’s not so. In fact, it’s a rather simple matter.
Christians are on an entirely different calendar altogether, led there centuries ago by the anti-Judaeic Constantine, so their date for Shavuot/Passover is way off.
That leaves the Jewish Shavuot and the “other” Shavuot. The Jewish Shavuot is a tradition handed down by the Pharisees, who counted seven Shabbats, which included a festival Shabbat and has them celebrating Shavuot a few days earlier than those who celebrate the “other” Shavuot.
The “other” Shavuot tradition comes from the Sadducees, who reacted to the Pharisees interpretation and said, basically, “Hold on, the meaning of Torah here is seven REGULAR Shabbats after the feast of first fruits of the barley harvest.” That means that, for messianics like those of us at Sar Shalom, Shavuot must always fall on a first day of the week – Sunday – which was yesterday.
Anyone who reads the Torah passage completely in relation to this would, I believe, come to the same conclusion.
One good thing I’ve been working hard on lately is attempting to get at least a month ahead on writing my bar/bat mitzvah lessons. There are no travel guides to success is this area, just a lot of study time, prayer time and writing time. Fortunately, I’m finally getting a handle on it, which is good.
It’s a bit of a challenge at the moment, because some of the lessons are on our literagy, while the rest of the lessons I’m writing are currently a multi-part character study on King David. We’re currently about to delve into David’s desire to build a cedar-wood house for Adonai, which God turns down and then makes a messianic promise to David to “make you a house” instead.
David’s life really is fascinating and I’m glad we have some open time to really help the kids explore it before Simchat Torah comes ’round and we have to focus on the Torah cycle. A little detour never hurt anyone.
As I said in my first up-front talk on Friday, one of the things that is a mystery to me is why so few people want to take part in children’s ministry, and why it’s so hard to find teachers when we have so many parents.
Sure, kids can be a bit intimidating as a group the first time you stand in front of them as their teacher, and they’ll never stop testing limits with you, but they’re pre-teens, for heaven’s sake. They tend to listen if they can tell you mean business.
While my wife and I don’t have kids of our own yet, because we’ve decided to wait a bit longer, we both care about bringing the kids in our kehilat up in the ways of the L-RD. That’s why I teach bar/bat mitzvah class and why she does praise and worship for the younger kids.
If we’re not parents and we see the need and fill it, how could a person who is a parent not want to be a part of their kids’ Shabbat School experience? Maybe they need a good liver cleanse?
If for no other reason, they should at least want to know what their kids are learning and make sure it’s consistent with the beliefs of their kehilat. Yet, as the old saying goes, what seems simple, isn’t.
One of the scary things about delivering a mini-sermon, as I did for the first time last Friday, is that afterward you can get a recording of yourself and, for the first time, have to hear what you sounded like to others. That, for me, was scarier than taking a diet pill without reading the label first.
My first impression of my own speaking voice is not great; I sound high-pitched and a bit nasal. That’s not as I’d prefer it, obviously. I’d like more of the bass in my voice to come across, and have a richer, fuller-sounding voice that sounds stronger.
But, my voice is my voice and I’m not sure there’s a whole lot to be done about it. I mean, much as hearing it is a bit annoying, I’m sure my reaction is one more of shock than of anything. When I was younger, back in high school, I sang with the baritones and basses, depending on the song. Now my voice sounds more like a high tenor.
Scary. But in terms of ministry relevance, probably a lot of fuss over nothing essential.
It came with little warning, little preparation time, and a whole lot sooner than I’d planned; but last Friday, I finally had a chance to go up in front of the congregation and give a short talk. I wouldn’t quite call it a full-blown sermon; I was given 5-10 minutes and ending up running over 13 minutes, but I did reference over half a dozen Torah and Brit haDasha sources, so it felt a bit like a sermon. Or at least close enough for horse shoes and hand grenades. Take a listen and decide for yourself.
Anyway, the initiation was thrilling and fortunately everone was very supportive and offering positive feedback. I have a lot of seeking God left to do, but at least now I have some confidence about my ability to produce and deliver something approaching a sermon.
Sure, it’s not the kind of achievement that merits renting Vegas hotels for a getaway after, but it is a big milestone nevertheless.
Prayer is one of the most essential pieces of tactical gear a spiritual warrior can equip. And even if you see yourself merely as cannon fodder, that’s no reason not to pray.
Case in point: just as I was making plans to get together with a couple friends for some essential prayer time in a couple weeks, I got a call from the guy who suggested it and found out his wife was in the ER and needed prayer for her health, like, right now.
While things turned out OK, I have seen too many occasions where, due to lack of prayer, things haven’t always turned out quite as well. I’m glad we all started to plan a prayer get-together; if we hadn’t already been talking about it, who knows if he’d have called with the immediate prayer need? I suspect he might have… but making those plans certainly kept it at the forefront of his mind.
Without prayer, we eventually feel powerless because we’re cut off from the source of all power: Adonai. Prayer is essential in the life of any believer.
Well, I guess my rabbi told me!
Of course, it’s something I needed to hear, something my wife’s been telling me for a while, and certainly it is an absolute necessity. It’s time for me to get serious about seeking the L-RD if I’m serious about becoming a messianic rabbi.
Truth is, while I’m great at study time, my prayer life just isn’t what it needs to be; and if the L-RD isn’t with me, becoming a messianic rabbi would be pointless. No one should enter ministry without first making sure of the L-RD’s call, and having that call confirmed, re-confirmed and triple-confirmed, at least.
Without Adonai at the center of it, I’d be better off selling time-shares at Hilton Head rentals than I’d be pursuing a messianic ministry. And I’m no salesman.
