For the week of December 28, 2024 / 25 Kislev 5785

Miketz & Hanukkah
Torah: Bereshit/Genesis 41:1 – 44:17; B’midbar/Numbers 7:24-35
Haftarah: Zechariah 2:14 – 4:7 (English: 2:10 – 4:7)
Originally posted the week of December 28, 2019 / 30 Kislev 5780

My favorite movie clip for Hanukkah is from Lord of the Rings. Frodo, the unlikely hero of this popular epic is becoming more and more overwhelmed by the evil power of the ring he is seeking to destroy. At this point he is about to be captured or killed by one of the Dark Lord’s emissaries, thus bringing his quest to a most disastrous end. At the last moment Frodo’s loyal companion, Sam, rescues him. But Frodo, having temporarily lost his senses, is ready to stab his friend. Note: The movie clip is available below.

Frodo: I can’t do this, Sam.

Sam: I know. It’s all wrong. By rights we shouldn’t even be here. But we are. It’s like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo; the ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end… because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was, when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines, it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you, that meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn’t. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something.

Frodo: What are we holding on to, Sam?

Sam: That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it’s worth fighting for.

“There is some good in the world…and it’s worth fighting for.” What a noble statement. But as I was getting ready to repost this for Hanukkah, I realized that there is an assumption behind Sam’s words. In order for there to be a good worth fighting for, there needs to be such a thing as good.

Good, as Sam understands it, is not about our side versus their side. Sam’s statement isn’t one of staying true to their team or their cause. The undergirding worldview of this humble character (in the mind of the author, of course) is there is such a thing as objective good and objective evil.

What is obvious in Lord of the Rings is quite fuzzy in our day. Many doubt that such objectivity exists while others who may suspect it does resist making any conclusive determinations about it. Good has become a matter of personal preference.

This version of good is actually an expression of the lure of the misguided influence that Tolkien exposes in his popular trilogy. Self, self-seeking, tribal loyalty for its own sake, blind commitment to ideology, groupthink, are all forms of the Shadow, the evil influence overtaking the world of Middle Earth in Lord of the Rings and overtaking our world today.

Thankfully, there is objective good, because the good and only God created the universe. Good isn’t good simply because God says so, but rather because he designed it that way.

The Maccabees were not fighting for a personal cause. They, as many were doing in their day, could have easily gone along with the crowd, keeping with the times in which they lived, one of progress and tolerance. But the Maccabees knew what was at stake—God’s plan for Israel—that would eventually culminate with the restoration of the entire creation—was in jeopardy and they were not going to just let it happen. Instead they knew that, in spite of the increasing shadow overtaking Israel, they would resist; they would fight. With God’s help, they won the miraculous victory we commemorate this week.

What was true for the Maccabees is no less true for us today: there is good in the world and it’s worth fighting for!

For the week of December 21, 2024 / 20 Kislev 5785

Vayeshev
Torah: Bereshit/Genesis 37:1 – 40:23
Haftarah: Amos 2:6 – 3:8
Originally posted the week of December 9, 2017 / 21 Kislev 5778

Now Joseph had a dream, and when he told it to his brothers they hated him even more. (Bereshit/Genesis 37:5)

While the story of Jacob’s son Joseph is one of the more comprehensive Bible stories, his personality is often overly simplified to be the God-favored victim of his brothers’ murderous hatred. Staying faithful to God through it all, God uses his terrible circumstances to save the day. The message to us is equally simple: trust God and he will take care of us no matter what. Nice thought. It certainly contains dependable truth. The problem is this story, including Joseph’s part, isn’t that straightforward. Neither is real life. Within the complexity of Joseph’s character, we can find real hope for our own complicated lives.

Was Joseph a passive victim? No one should blame him for being his father’s favorite. That wasn’t fair to his brothers, of course. But life isn’t fair. God also favored him by giving him dreams. I am aware favored persons can be the object of other people’s ire. But that’s not really Joseph’s story. Without excusing what his brothers did, Joseph was not passive. Joseph had a bit of a mouth. When we are first introduced to him, we are told he had brought a bad report of his brothers to their father. Not given the details of that, we don’t know what he said or how he said it. He may have been completely in the right. But when trouble ensued later on, most people would wonder if they could have done things differently.

It’s the sharing of the dreams, however, that is of greatest concern. The bad report may have been necessary. But did he have to tell his brothers and father about the dreams? Didn’t he know he would further infuriate his brothers? Even if he was clued out about the meaning of the first dream, he knew how his brothers took it (and correctly so) as a prediction of his eventual prominence in the family. Therefore, he knew exactly how they would understand the second similar dream. He may have been purposely trying to put them in their place. Joseph most likely figured his being favored by his father and God would protect him from his brothers’ wrath. If so, he figured wrong.

The Bible doesn’t tell us what was going on in Joseph’s mind through his ordeal. What we do know is after all was said and done, he was able to be gracious to his brothers in spite of what they did to him. His perspective he expresses as “You meant evil against me, but God meant it for good” (Bereshit/Genesis 50:20) is an unusually healthy balanced understanding of the interplay between human activity and God’s sovereignty. It’s easy to say, but Joseph’s freedom from bitterness and demonstration of generosity towards those who aggressively hated him is extraordinary.

Still, that was his state at the end of a very long and arduous personal journey. What about all the time in between, especially as he finds himself enslaved in Egypt, followed by unjust imprisonment in a vile dungeon? Shall we assume he took it all in stride as he made up songs about ruling over his family one day? That’s possible, but not probable. It’s reasonable to assume he wondered about his big mouth. Did he really have to talk up his dreams? Too late now, of course. But what if he had kept his big mouth shut?

Perhaps he didn’t give much thought to his contribution to his dismal situation. That would make him even more remarkable than most people think. Most of us spend considerable amount of time with our could’ve/would’ve/should’ves. We obsess over the possibility that we are the ones who got us into our messes. Others blame shift, of course, refusing to take any responsibility for their lives. But that’s a different story for another time. Here I want to address those of us who get stuck over ourselves.

Whether or not Joseph blamed himself partly or completely for his situation, it is clear it didn’t cripple him. Dreams, something that got him in trouble earlier in life, would be key to his release and promotion in Egypt later on. Also, whether as a slave, prison foreman, or Prime Minister; his leadership skills, which may have helped precipitate his tense relationship with his brothers when a teenager, were fully expressed. How many people, when their abilities get them into trouble, out of fear vow to “never do that again”? Some may even think they are being responsible by avoiding the potential damage their God-given abilities may cause. Somehow Joseph didn’t fall into that trap.

Perhaps the way Joseph dealt with the relationship of his brothers’ evil to God’s sovereignty is a clue to how he coped with his own role in the story. Consciously or unconsciously, Joseph’s trust in God set him free to fully function in the role God assigned to him. He knew God was bigger than the outside forces of his life. Obviously, he also learned that God was bigger than his own internal forces as well.

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version

For the week of December 14, 2024 / 13 Kislev 5785

Vayishlach
Torah: Bereshit/Genesis 32:4-36:43  (English: 32:3 – 36:43)
Haftarah: Hoshea/Hosea 11:7-12:12 (English 11:7 – 12:11)

Then he said, “Your name shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with men, and have prevailed.” (Bereshit/Genesis 32:29; English: 32:28)

Each year, when looking over the parsha (Torah reading portion) for this week, I have a hard time not commenting on this verse. I think it is the most astounding verse in the entire Bible. At one level it makes no sense. Not only is the idea of prevailing against God far-fetched in a general sense, but neither is it logical within its immediate context. The mysterious wrestler, who turns out to be God in human form, dislocates Jacob’s hip with a touch. It is clear that he could have completely obliterated Jacob. But instead of simply commending Jacob’s tenacity, he demands to be let go, as if he needed his permission. When Jacob refuses to do so unless the wrestler blesses him, God supposedly gives in and speaks the astounding words above.

There is no doubt in my mind that God remained in control of the situation. It’s reasonable then to conclude that he only made it look like Jacob prevailed over God, not that he actually did. But there’s a problem with this conclusion. The passage clearly says otherwise. Perhaps some scholars attempt to resolve this tension by claiming there’s an issue with the biblical text. However, the conceptual tension the reader faces appears to be deliberate. Of course, no one can prevail against God, but Jacob did anyway. And if there’s an unstated level of hypothetical reality where God only made it appear that Jacob prevailed over him, we miss the point. The point is that this story acts as an invitation to you and me to wrestle with God as Jacob did.

And not just Jacob. Almost every other exemplary Bible character also wrestled with God. I don’t know if they all prevailed, however. Joseph wrestles with God in managing his interpretive gift, throwing him into slavery in preparation for ruling in Egypt. God invites Moses to wrestle with him at the burning bush as part of his call to confront Pharoah. David wrestles with God in the process of his transition from shepherd to royal court musician to warrior to king. Solomon wrestles with stewarding his riches and fame, possessing great wisdom, yet facing severe temptation. Elijah wrestles with God amidst his prophetic call and threats upon his life. Yeshua, the greatest wrestler of them all “offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to him who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverence” (Hebrews 5:7).

This is what being Israel is all about: “striving with God and men and prevailing.” What these Bible characters embody individually also marks Israel as a nation. Beginning with Jacob (though this wrestling factor actually began with Abraham), whether we’ve been aware of it or not, the Jewish people have been thrown into the wrestling ring with God. And against all odds, we have prevailed. It hasn’t always looked like it. And like Jacob and his limp, we don’t always emerge from our struggles unscathed. We’ve suffered extreme loss, we’ve been traumatized, and many have lost faith, but we wrestle. Like Jacob, we haven’t always known that it was God with whom we were wrestling. But through the centuries, time and time again, he has snuck up on us for an all-night wrestling match. And we’re still here. We are Israel. Not only have we survived, but we have prevailed in so many ways, not the least that we have returned to our ancient homeland after 2000 years.

Tragically, for many Christians, not only do they fail to see God’s ongoing engagement with the Jewish people, but they have also tamed the wrestling God. Instead of engaging him on his terms, many have reduced him to some sort of fluffy, therapeutic formula for personal benefit. This god never rocks the boat, doesn’t correct behavior, nor stretches us beyond our perceived capabilities. This god pats us on the head and tells us how wonderful we are. He invites us to avoid conflict and controversy, suffering, and rejection.

It’s time to cast off this false god and get into the ring. Jacob shows us that we can not only survive wrestling with God, but we can become better people for it. That is, if we stick it out long enough, not letting go until he blesses us.

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version

For the week of December 7, 2024 / 6 Kislev 5785

Vayetzei
Torah: Bereshit/Genesis 28:10 – 32:3
Prophets: Hoshea/Hosea 12:13 – 14:10 (English: 12:12 – 14:9)

I shall ransom them from the power of Sheol; I shall redeem them from Death. (Hoshea/Hosea 13:14)

Many years ago, I met a psychologist who, upon learning I was Jewish, made an interesting comment about God. He said in the books of the Hebrew prophets God was portrayed at times like a Jewish mother, talking to one of her adult children: “Why don’t you even call me! Go away, I hate you! Don’t talk to me. Come back; come back; I love you, I love you! So, when are you going to visit?” For the record, not all Jewish mothers are like that. My wife isn’t, but my mother, may she rest in peace, was.

But what about God? Was my new friend correct? Does God ever display an extreme, neurotic-like, perhaps contradictory, overwhelming, hard-to-understand love? Let’s look at this week’s Haftarah (a passage from the Prophets that accompanies the weekly Torah portion)—taken from the Book of Hoshea (English: Hosea) 12:13-14:10 in the Hebrew; 12:12 – 14:9 in most English translations. This was likely chosen because it includes a reference to this week’s Torah portion, including Jacob fleeing his brother’s vengeance by going to Mesopotamia.

Also included in this Haftarah are extreme words of judgment against Israel. That’s certainly a common theme throughout biblical prophetic literature. Here are a couple of examples:

Therefore they shall be like the morning mist or like the dew that goes early away, like the chaff that swirls from the threshing floor or like smoke from a window (13:3).

I will fall upon them like a bear robbed of her cubs; I will tear open their breast, and there I will devour them like a lion, as a wild beast would rip them open (13:8).

This section is so highly negative on Israel; the English Standard Version, which I am using here, uses the subheading “The Lord’s Relentless Judgment on Israel.” One dictionary definition of “relentless” is “showing or promising no abatement of severity, intensity, strength, or pace.” This sums up how many people characterize God’s take on rebellious Israel in the Hebrew Scriptures. Having done so much for them, these rebellious ingrates are worthy of nothing less than everlasting rejection. But like my friend’s characterization, there’s much more to God’s heart towards his chosen ones. A little further down, we also read:

I will heal their apostasy; I will love them freely, for my anger has turned from them. I will be like the dew to Israel; he shall blossom like the lily; he shall take root like the trees of Lebanon; his shoots shall spread out; his beauty shall be like the olive, and his fragrance like Lebanon. They shall return and dwell beneath my shadow; they shall flourish like the grain; they shall blossom like the vine; their fame shall be like the wine of Lebanon (14:4-8; English 14:4-7).

Can you see why my friend characterized God in the way he did? I wouldn’t blame someone who claimed the extreme difference between judgment and acceptance is so great as to be irreconcilable. My friend characterized God in the way that many Bible readers, not to mention the editors of the ESV, have great trouble doing.

What we see here is an outworking of what I like to call God’s dilemma. His covenantal relationship with the Jewish people is a complex one. Foundational to it are his unconditional promises given to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. It was this commitment that led to his rescue of their descendants many years later when they were enslaved in Egypt. His redemption of the nation at the hand of Moses led to an additional covenantal arrangement at Mt. Sinai that created a dynamic of blessings and curses based on the stipulations of that covenant. Israel’s humanity, shared with all nations, undermined their ability to meet God’s standards, setting them up for the kind of harsh judgment described by Hoshea. Yet, God’s dilemma was that he was at the same time obliged to uphold the original covenant he made with the forefathers even as he was required to enact judgment.

The tension of required punishment amidst an eternal commitment resulted in an almost neurotic expression of both anger and heartfelt yearning, which may not be that far from a stereotypical Jewish mother’s heart with its expectations and demands mixed with unshakable eternal love.

Tragically, instead of grasping the complex, hard-to-understand nature of God’s covenantal love, many attempt to smooth it out by choosing one of the two extremes. Either God is angry and vengeful, or he is absolutely accepting no matter what. We might think that either there is nothing we can do to ever satisfy him or there’s nothing we can do that will undermine his love. We wonder how God could be both absolutely demanding and loving at the same time.

I can’t explain how it works, but God has provided something in Scripture through which we can embrace the unexplainable—Israel. Certainly, it’s only by knowing God through the Messiah that his complex love can be known, but in order to grasp the complexity of that love, he has provided Israel as the example through which to demonstrate to the whole world a most truly effective and dependable love.

Now, of course, God is not a Jewish mother. But could it be that God instilled in the mothers of Israel, some of them at least, consciously or unconsciously, a concept of high demand and expectation mingled with everlasting love? But not being God, this tension has often led to great disappointment and broken relationships. The tension of high demand and committed love can tear a heart apart, even God’s, which is exactly what it cost him—through the Messiah—on behalf of us all.

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version