Post by Mark on Sept 15, 2009 4:10:23 GMT -8
One of the wonderful things about the Jewish faith is that it has a clear definition of customs for us to follow. On Rosh Hashanah we listen for the sound of the Shofar. We eat apples, dipping them in honey. We sing some pretty popular and exciting songs and we dance. We bake a round challah loaf. We throw crumbs of bread into the water. If truly devout, we mikvah. Of course all of these things are chock full of imagery and teaching opportunities. The depth of understanding that each of these practices singularly has to offer is unfathomable. Yet, even in our pursuit of greater understanding and clearer appreciation, we can miss the whole thing.
The word "shofar" speaks of a clear tone. It is a sound like none other… well, when I blow it sometimes it’s similar to a sick moose. Yet, when Terooah rings from someone who knows what he is doing, for miles around it can be identified as the sound of the Shofar and nothing else in the world is like it. All by itself, this tells us what the Festival of Trumpets is about: clarity.
There are so many relationships in this world that are confused. Young men and women don’t know if they want to be married. They don’t know how the other person really feels about them. Friends are concerned that a relationship may be too shallow or too involved. Coworkers are hesitant to show any sense of dedication to their employers and bosses are wary, not knowing who they can trust.
By the sound of the Shofar we are asked on these holiest of days, to consider where we stand with Adonai. Is our relationship with Him convoluted and ill-defined or do we clearly know were we stand? Have we offered, in words, declarations of commitment and love; but by our actions, have we sent Him mixed messages?
Rosh Hashanah is about setting things right. I know that this year, like so many other years, I have said one thing and done another. I’ve spoken truth and righteousness; but secretly lived my own rebellion. Knowing that I am human, knowing that I falter, I still want an opportunity to give a clear message to the God that I love: "Despite my carnality and my failings, I am still committed utterly to love You with every ounce of my being."
Rosh Hashanah is not about feeling sorry for ourselves and being condemned for our failings of the past. It is not about cowering in humiliation before the Great Judge and King. It is about putting the past behind us, whatever it is, owning up to who we really are, and moving on.
Sure, my relationship with God has had some rocky points over the past year. There’s no surprise there. Yet, what do I do with that? Do I allow my past to drive a deeper wedge between me and the Messiah who has delivered me from sin and death? This is a trap that many fail to see as the context of this festival. Many see it as simply turning over a new leaf of making a fresh start in a relationship that is plagued with failure. It’s more than that. It’s deeper than the sum of the individual elements of repentance. It is sounding a clear voice: I love You, Lord, no matter what!
The word "shofar" speaks of a clear tone. It is a sound like none other… well, when I blow it sometimes it’s similar to a sick moose. Yet, when Terooah rings from someone who knows what he is doing, for miles around it can be identified as the sound of the Shofar and nothing else in the world is like it. All by itself, this tells us what the Festival of Trumpets is about: clarity.
There are so many relationships in this world that are confused. Young men and women don’t know if they want to be married. They don’t know how the other person really feels about them. Friends are concerned that a relationship may be too shallow or too involved. Coworkers are hesitant to show any sense of dedication to their employers and bosses are wary, not knowing who they can trust.
By the sound of the Shofar we are asked on these holiest of days, to consider where we stand with Adonai. Is our relationship with Him convoluted and ill-defined or do we clearly know were we stand? Have we offered, in words, declarations of commitment and love; but by our actions, have we sent Him mixed messages?
Rosh Hashanah is about setting things right. I know that this year, like so many other years, I have said one thing and done another. I’ve spoken truth and righteousness; but secretly lived my own rebellion. Knowing that I am human, knowing that I falter, I still want an opportunity to give a clear message to the God that I love: "Despite my carnality and my failings, I am still committed utterly to love You with every ounce of my being."
Rosh Hashanah is not about feeling sorry for ourselves and being condemned for our failings of the past. It is not about cowering in humiliation before the Great Judge and King. It is about putting the past behind us, whatever it is, owning up to who we really are, and moving on.
Sure, my relationship with God has had some rocky points over the past year. There’s no surprise there. Yet, what do I do with that? Do I allow my past to drive a deeper wedge between me and the Messiah who has delivered me from sin and death? This is a trap that many fail to see as the context of this festival. Many see it as simply turning over a new leaf of making a fresh start in a relationship that is plagued with failure. It’s more than that. It’s deeper than the sum of the individual elements of repentance. It is sounding a clear voice: I love You, Lord, no matter what!