i wrote how much i'm planning to tithe this month on a a stickies on my mac desktop screen. as soon as i saw the number again this morning and despite hearing father's R's voice in my head saying, "s, don't forget to give to J! s, don't forget to give to J!" i immediately thought, "ugh, that's so much money. how am i ever going to pay all my bills? or save? or stay afloat." following all of these (selfish) thoughts, i went to my gmail account and saw the "daily lectionary" that i receive in my inbox everyday. this is what i read:
Ecclesiasticus 35:1-17
"One who keeps the law makes many offerings;
one who heeds the commandments makes an offering of well-being.
One who returns a kindness offers choice flour,
and one who gives alms sacrifices a thank-offering.
To keep from wickedness is pleasing to the Lord,
and to forsake unrighteousness is an atonement.
Do not appear before the Lord empty-handed,
for all that you offer is in fulfilment of the commandment.
The offering of the righteous enriches the altar,
and its pleasing odour rises before the Most High.
The sacrifice of the righteous is acceptable,
and it will never be forgotten.
Be generous when you worship the Lord,
and do not stint the first fruits of your hands.
With every gift show a cheerful face,
and dedicate your tithe with gladness.
Give to the Most High as he has given to you,
and as generously as you can afford.
For the Lord is the one who repays,
and he will repay you sevenfold.
Do not offer him a bribe, for he will not accept it;
and do not rely on a dishonest sacrifice;
for the Lord is the judge,
and with him there is no partiality.
He will not show partiality to the poor;
but he will listen to the prayer of one who is wronged.
He will not ignore the supplication of the orphan,
or the widow when she pours out her complaint."
okay okay! i'll give. and i really will try to do it cheerfully, too.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Kashrut* & Jesus
*(also kashruth or kashrus, כַּשְׁרוּת) is the set of Jewish dietary laws.
I've been reading a book called "Miriam's Kitchen" by Elizabeth Ehrlich. It's about a Jewish woman who slowly eases into keeping a kosher kitchen. Raised by somewhat nominal Jewish parents, her husband's parents continue to hold fast to a diet deemed acceptable by the Torah. Her mother-in-law, Miriam, serves as one of her main guides during the journey, seemingly unaware of the inner-battle going on within Elizabeth to learn, understand, and implement the Jewish diet in her own home.
For the past few days, I've been stuck on this one passage that Ehrlich writes. I was shocked when 130 pages into the book, she wrote one paragraph about Jesus. Five days after reading that paragraph, I still can't get it out of my head.
Ehrlich writes,
"Kashrut, I believe, gave Jesus his great opening. He ate with the common people in their homes, when other learned teachers wouldn't. Poor folk might not have had enough wooden bowls, ceramic vessels, and cooking implements to adhere perfectly to dietary laws. They might not have enough knowledge or resources to make their kitchens kosher enough for the standards of a truly learned man. Jesus swallowed his own squeamishness, perhaps, sat down and broke bread. You can get to heaven without all of this, he taught. I can see the appeal. But oddly enough, and at the same time, trying to be kosher confronts one with the ultimate impossibility of perfection. Finally you have to live with your accommodations, the limits of being human. As with a calculus problem, the solution may draw close to an imaginary line, but never quite get there. At least, I'm sure I never will."
I love how Ehrlich shows that trying to keep a kosher kitchen is just another reminder of our inability to live perfectly; we can't do it on our own. It's been such an adventure to read this book while also reading a chapter-a-day of Leviticus, and reading through Acts. It's neat to see the juxtaposition of sacrificial offerings for atonement of sin (Leviticus) alongside the Council of Jerusalem's decision not to force Gentiles to live as Jews (Acts).
I like where Peter says, "Why do you try to test God by putting on the necks of the disciples a yoke that neither we nor our fathers have been able to bear? No! We believe it is through the grace of our Lord Jesus that we are saved, just as they are." (Acts 15:10-11).
I think that, as an outsider to Judaism, it's easy to point fingers and say, "Oh, but to live like that is so hard!" But to hear Peter say, "a yolk that neither we nor our fathers have been able to bear," I feel like I can hear the commitment in his voice. Maybe he is pointing out that the laws found in the Torah were their sacrifice to give to God, in remembrance of his promise that the Messiah would come. Maybe he was saying that even though they had been waiting for the promised Messiah for generations, and even though the Gentiles hadn't experienced the same sacrificial waiting, salvation was still extended to them all, through the power of the Holy Spirit.
I wonder if the Jewish Christians who had concerns about the new Gentile Christians kept on with their Kashrut diet. Somehow, I think they did. Even though their salvation was no longer to be found in their attempts to keep the perfect Kosher kitchen or by celebrating all the Jewish observances as immaculately as possible, it was another way to remind themselves that no matter how hard they tried to separate the milk from the meat, no matter how hard they tried to rid their kitchens of flour during the Feast of the Unleavened Bread, they still fell short. The only difference was, now they looked back to the cross, being reminded that Jesus was the atonement they still needed, and their perfection was still not possible through their sacrifices, but through his sacrifice on the cross.
I've been reading a book called "Miriam's Kitchen" by Elizabeth Ehrlich. It's about a Jewish woman who slowly eases into keeping a kosher kitchen. Raised by somewhat nominal Jewish parents, her husband's parents continue to hold fast to a diet deemed acceptable by the Torah. Her mother-in-law, Miriam, serves as one of her main guides during the journey, seemingly unaware of the inner-battle going on within Elizabeth to learn, understand, and implement the Jewish diet in her own home.
For the past few days, I've been stuck on this one passage that Ehrlich writes. I was shocked when 130 pages into the book, she wrote one paragraph about Jesus. Five days after reading that paragraph, I still can't get it out of my head.
Ehrlich writes,
"Kashrut, I believe, gave Jesus his great opening. He ate with the common people in their homes, when other learned teachers wouldn't. Poor folk might not have had enough wooden bowls, ceramic vessels, and cooking implements to adhere perfectly to dietary laws. They might not have enough knowledge or resources to make their kitchens kosher enough for the standards of a truly learned man. Jesus swallowed his own squeamishness, perhaps, sat down and broke bread. You can get to heaven without all of this, he taught. I can see the appeal. But oddly enough, and at the same time, trying to be kosher confronts one with the ultimate impossibility of perfection. Finally you have to live with your accommodations, the limits of being human. As with a calculus problem, the solution may draw close to an imaginary line, but never quite get there. At least, I'm sure I never will."
I love how Ehrlich shows that trying to keep a kosher kitchen is just another reminder of our inability to live perfectly; we can't do it on our own. It's been such an adventure to read this book while also reading a chapter-a-day of Leviticus, and reading through Acts. It's neat to see the juxtaposition of sacrificial offerings for atonement of sin (Leviticus) alongside the Council of Jerusalem's decision not to force Gentiles to live as Jews (Acts).
I like where Peter says, "Why do you try to test God by putting on the necks of the disciples a yoke that neither we nor our fathers have been able to bear? No! We believe it is through the grace of our Lord Jesus that we are saved, just as they are." (Acts 15:10-11).
I think that, as an outsider to Judaism, it's easy to point fingers and say, "Oh, but to live like that is so hard!" But to hear Peter say, "a yolk that neither we nor our fathers have been able to bear," I feel like I can hear the commitment in his voice. Maybe he is pointing out that the laws found in the Torah were their sacrifice to give to God, in remembrance of his promise that the Messiah would come. Maybe he was saying that even though they had been waiting for the promised Messiah for generations, and even though the Gentiles hadn't experienced the same sacrificial waiting, salvation was still extended to them all, through the power of the Holy Spirit.
I wonder if the Jewish Christians who had concerns about the new Gentile Christians kept on with their Kashrut diet. Somehow, I think they did. Even though their salvation was no longer to be found in their attempts to keep the perfect Kosher kitchen or by celebrating all the Jewish observances as immaculately as possible, it was another way to remind themselves that no matter how hard they tried to separate the milk from the meat, no matter how hard they tried to rid their kitchens of flour during the Feast of the Unleavened Bread, they still fell short. The only difference was, now they looked back to the cross, being reminded that Jesus was the atonement they still needed, and their perfection was still not possible through their sacrifices, but through his sacrifice on the cross.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
absence makes the heart say... what the hell is up with this??
i gave E a card to take to china that said that. it made me laugh then, but now i agree with it so much more!
it's been 31 days since i have heard my boyfriend's voice. 31. isn't that insane? i don't think anyone should have to go that long without speaking to their love. i've looked forward to every e-mail i've received from him and have definitely learned a lot about myself and my relationship with E (and with G!) during this time. i've learned about patience, and trust, and more patience, and more trust.
i've been very grateful for my family, who has put up with my melancholy state and who has patted me on the back and told me everything is going to be okay. when E and i were able to gchat for the first time on tuesday, i told him i had cried a lot and he said he wished he could have witnessed it (as thus far in our relationship i have refused to cry in front of him). i told him that when he's around, i don't have any reason to cry! ha, i know, so so corny. but, it is true. i mean, crying can be so healing, but it is a huge vulnerability factor. i think being down here, without a job, without being able to talk to my E, has somewhat stripped me of my independence. with that comes this feeling of exposure that left me less able to communicate and more likely to release tears rather than intelligible words.
i told K a couple of weeks ago that i felt like E was a figment of my imagination. and she said, "no, i met him, he's real." it cracks me up to even type that, but it was a good reassurance to me that this is a just a season, and it will pass (albeit, very. very. very. slowly).
three days to go. (:
it's been 31 days since i have heard my boyfriend's voice. 31. isn't that insane? i don't think anyone should have to go that long without speaking to their love. i've looked forward to every e-mail i've received from him and have definitely learned a lot about myself and my relationship with E (and with G!) during this time. i've learned about patience, and trust, and more patience, and more trust.
i've been very grateful for my family, who has put up with my melancholy state and who has patted me on the back and told me everything is going to be okay. when E and i were able to gchat for the first time on tuesday, i told him i had cried a lot and he said he wished he could have witnessed it (as thus far in our relationship i have refused to cry in front of him). i told him that when he's around, i don't have any reason to cry! ha, i know, so so corny. but, it is true. i mean, crying can be so healing, but it is a huge vulnerability factor. i think being down here, without a job, without being able to talk to my E, has somewhat stripped me of my independence. with that comes this feeling of exposure that left me less able to communicate and more likely to release tears rather than intelligible words.
i told K a couple of weeks ago that i felt like E was a figment of my imagination. and she said, "no, i met him, he's real." it cracks me up to even type that, but it was a good reassurance to me that this is a just a season, and it will pass (albeit, very. very. very. slowly).
three days to go. (:
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