Sabbath Ends too Soon

Here is a weird end to my sabbath. I went over to check on Leah Friedman, who has been recovering from respiratory arrest for some time now. Looks like she continues to improve, and she credits prayer, and I know a lot of my readers prayed for her and left comments. I wanted to tell you how much I appreciate you doing this for her. A lot of fine people read this blog. And you enabled me to do something good with it.

While on her blog, I saw this Matisyahu video.

This guy is a Lubavitcher chassid who sings reggae. Go figure. He calls himself a rapper, but he's doing himself a disservice, because he composes his own music, and he sings. It sounds nothing like rap.

I was very impressed. Because I grew up in Miami, my friends were getting me into reggae back before Reagan, and I've heard a lot of stuff. Jimmy Cliff, Peter Tosh, Bob Marley, and so on. And I think this guy beats them all. I wonder if all of his stuff is this good. You can sense the crowd wanting to laugh at him at first, but he bulls his way through and ends up slaying them.

Coincidentally, I read about the Jewish denominations in How Firm a Foundation this week, and Rabbi Eckstein wrote about the chassids. One thing he pointed out, which had not been clear to me before (in spite of knowing a one-time Lubavitcher) was that the chassids are passionate about enjoying life's pleasures and spreading love. So maybe I shouldn't be surprised to hear Lubavitcher reggae.

The sabbath was good. I'm still trying to polish the rough edges off of my sabbath technique, however. I think every week I've learned a little bit more about what Jews go through. This week, I'm learning how it feels for the sabbath to end too soon. I'll bet Jewish readers have been having this feeling since they were born, or since they became observant.

Thinking about observant Jews and dance music, I remember dancing with the rabbis and students at Yeshiva Ohr Somayach, in Jerusalem, in 1984. What a strange night. Maybe the awful beard I had grown gave them the impression that I was Jewish. Who would grow a ratty beard like that if his religion didn't force him? Anyway, I got drawn into a big circle, and a little boy with sidecurls grabbed my leg and made me put him on my shoulders.

Which reminds me of this:

14 But Zion said, The LORD hath forsaken me, and my Lord hath forgotten me.

15 Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee.

16 Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me.

17 Thy children shall make haste; thy destroyers and they that made thee waste shall go forth of thee.

18 Lift up thine eyes round about, and behold: all these gather themselves together, and come to thee. As I live, saith the LORD, thou shalt surely clothe thee with them all, as with an ornament, and bind them on thee, as a bride doeth.

19 For thy waste and thy desolate places, and the land of thy destruction, shall even now be too narrow by reason of the inhabitants, and they that swallowed thee up shall be far away.

20 The children which thou shalt have, after thou hast lost the other, shall say again in thine ears, The place is too strait for me: give place to me that I may dwell.

21 Then shalt thou say in thine heart, Who hath begotten me these, seeing I have lost my children, and am desolate, a captive, and removing to and fro? and who hath brought up these? Behold, I was left alone; these, where had they been?

22 Thus saith the Lord GOD, Behold, I will lift up mine hand to the Gentiles, and set up my standard to the people: and they shall bring thy sons in their arms, and thy daughters shall be carried upon their shoulders.

Okay, it says "daughters," not "sons." I realize that. But men and women were segregated. Cut me a little slack. And Isaiah was talking about Gentiles bringing Jews back to Israel, not dancing on Purim. But now we Gentiles are part of that, too.

Whatever the drawbacks of living in this turbulent era are, it is one of the few times since the Crucifixion when people have had the privilege of seeing that they are mentioned in prophecy. That's really something. If I can see myself and others like me in the book of Isaiah, how hard should it be for me to believe that I am also mentioned in the Book of Life?

We are living in a remarkable time of cooperation and understanding between certain Jews and certain Christians. Some beliefs separate us, but in an unprecedented way, we are in agreement about many things. We agree that the Messiah is coming soon. We agree that the Temple will be rebuilt. We agree that all of the prophecy of the Hebrew Bible is true, and some Jews are even willing to concede that bits of the New Testament are true. Such as the part about Christians being grafted onto the root of Judaism.

When the Messianic Age begins, it won't really matter who was wrong or right, will it? Eventually, everyone will agree on the identity of the Messiah. And there is little for us to fight about in the meantime, as far as I can see. So there is no reason why cooperation should not continue and increase. Jews are more cautious about eschatology than Christians are; nonetheless, eschatology is turning out to be a powerful uniting force. And I think it's becoming easier for Jews to tell the difference between the classes of Christians they can trust and the ones they can't.

I learned one more interesting thing today. In the book of Numbers, God Himself describes the difference between Moses and every other prophet who had lived until his time. He spoke to Moses face to face, but He communicated to prophets in dreams and visions. I didn't realize that. I had always assumed prophets opened their mouths, and God's words came out, and that dreams and visions were fairly useless, because they may mean a lot or nothing at all. So maybe there are a lot of people out there who are prophets, yet don't realize it because they discount the things they've seen. Maybe the fact that something happens to you while you're sleeping or drowsing doesn't mean it has no meaning. That gives me pause, when I think about things that have happened to me.

I'm up too late. Talk to you tomorrow.