What's your score? A Rosh Hashanah message for 2023 (5784)

 What’s your score?

Sydney, Australia

 

Introduction

L’shana tovah to you as we begin 5784 and ponder the subject of scorekeeping and Rosh Hashanah.

Backstory

When I was a kid back in the United States, along with some other children in the neighbourhood, I put on some stage plays, sometimes even written for Jewish holidays like Passover or Hanukkah. And our parents came along to watch our early evening performances and gave us kind, and probably forced, applause. We children felt good about our writing, our editing, and of course, the shows themselves. 

At school, we often had to make speeches about the weather or about a subject we had studied in science class. Sometimes it was practice for a debate that was scheduled. But nothing in school or in the neighbourhood prepared me for my Bar Mitzvah. That day, almost 60 years ago is forever engraved on my mind and let me tell you it was scary.

My Bar Mitzvah

I don’t think I had ever been so nervous.  My mouth was terribly dry, yet the palms of my hands were puddled with sweat.  I had studied intensely for a whole year to prepare me for these next few hours.  Would I stumble over the Hebrew I had studied so carefully? Would I remember my speech, the only part of my bar mitzvah I was to present in English?  I was about to become a “son of the commandment” through the ceremony that initiates a 13-year-old boy into the religious life of the Jewish community!  I would be responsible to obey the Torah and all its accompanying codes of oral tradition.  Quite a heavy responsibility for one who, in many ways, was still a child. The rabbi called me forward to lead the shacharit, the morning service.  I faced a frightening sea of faces.  

I imagined each person with a clipboard, waiting to evaluate my performance and turn in a score to some panel of judges. Not that there were any such clipboards or judges, but I was greatly concerned with doing well to please and impress everyone who had come to hear me.

 Latecomers trickled in and the large sanctuary was filling up quickly. Reassuring smiles of friends and relatives helped.  Even my Spanish teacher from school was there, along with the third-baseman for the Kansas City Athletics.  It was time to start.  After a few minutes of canting the familiar melodies, my nervousness dissolved.  

  After the almost-three-hour service, I chanted the final prayers, the musaf for the Sabbath. Then it was over, and I sat down.

Afterwards, there was plenty of food and drink and merry-making.  People congratulated me and wished me great success in the future.  I felt good.  It was over and I had done well; I could relax and enjoy being the guest of honour.

Do you ever feel that way, as well? That part about being judged? Do you think people are judging you and giving you a low score for whatever reason? Every day on the television news we hear of people going to court for some crime committed against others, for driving badly or for starting a fire. These people go to court and must give testimony and hope the judge pardons them or at least gives them a lighter sentence. They stand before the judge who decided their fate and these people have no control over their circumstance. 

God as King on Rosh Hashanah

You know on Rosh Hashanah that we Jews acknowledge God as the king of our lives. We eat challah which is round, signifying the crown of a king. We recite prayers that ask for forgiveness because we believe that as king he has power like a judge to forgive us. Here’s the problem; most of us think of God like a sports judge, like an Olympic judge giving our athlete a lower score in the swimming pool, or a diver, on the floor exercises or skating on ice to a musical score by Tchaikovsky. No matter what we do, and no matter how excellent our performance, if the judges say we score only 7.3 instead of 9.5, then we will lose in the competition. 

There is no further evaluation; there is no appeal to a higher authority. When the Olympic judge decides a number, that’s the number. Yes, there are others involved, as no single judge determines the ranking of an athlete, but together the judges decide. 

On Rosh Hashanah we begin the 10 days. These 10 days according to our tradition, give us another year of life, or not. We are written in the Book of Life, or we are not written in the book. And that’s similar to getting a one-year extension of living, breathing, existing on planet earth. That’s all the rabbis teach us. The Book of Life, in their view, is about living until next Rosh Hashanah. Nothing longer lasting than that. It all seems so random. 

Especially since we are talking about being judged rightly. 

Another king on forgiveness

Elvis Presley, the American known as the King of Rock and Roll, wrote a song called “Evening Prayer” in which he asked God for forgiveness.

“If I have wounded any souls today;

If I have caused one's foot to go astray;

If I have walked in an unwilful way;

Dear Lord, forgive.

Forgive the sins I have confessed to Thee.

Forgive my secret sins I do not see.

Oh, guide, watch over me and my keeper be.

Dear Lord, amen!”

Maybe you have asked God to forgive you for a particular sin or maybe a group of sins. If so, in this season of repentance and making right with others, do you think God heard you? On what basis do you have the confidence that God is listening? What if he is as cavalier as the Olympic judges? What if he doesn’t forgive you?

Another king on forgiveness

Let’s consider the greatest king of the Jewish people, King David from 3,000 years ago. According to the Scriptures, he was a man ‘after God’s heart.’ That phrase means that David and God were in good relationship with each other, that David knew the Lord personally. And that is a good reference point for this question. 

Listen to these words from Psalm 130.

Psa. 130:1       “Out of the depths I have cried to You, O LORD.

²        Lord, hear my voice! 

         Let Your ears be attentive 

         To the voice of my supplications.

³        If You, LORD, should mark iniquities, 

         O Lord, who could stand?

⁴        But there is forgiveness with You, 

         That You may be feared.

Psa. 130:5       I wait for the LORD, my soul does wait, 

         And in His word do I hope.

⁶        My soul waits for the Lord 

         More than the watchmen for the morning; 

         Indeed, more than the watchmen for the morning.

⁷        O Israel, hope in the LORD; 

         For with the LORD there is lovingkindness, 

         And with Him is abundant redemption.

⁸        And He will redeem Israel 

         From all his iniquities.”

 

King David knew that God was well able to ‘mark iniquities’ and if he did, then none of us would stand. Certainly King David would not survive. David’s prayer, like Elvis’ prayer is based on God, not on us. David was a good man, but he failed many times in family situations, committing murder and adultery. He knew his own sins. We know his sins because they are recorded in the Bible. On what basis is David praying for forgiveness? On the basis of God’s character, not because David deserves anything. 

For us in 2023

I share this information with you today to encourage you. Some of you, especially those from Russia/ Ukraine, were raised without religious hope. You were taught 

“O Party of Lenin, the strength of the people,
To Communism's triumph lead us on!”

Партия Ленина - сила народная
Нас к торжеству коммунизма ведёт!

Here in Australia, in Sydney, in 2023, what is the strength of the people? What is the great hope of our lives, of our family, for us today?  It’s wrapped up in King David’s words from 3,000 years ago. If we come boasting in our national strength, or our political party’s strength; if we think we deserve to have an easy life or 20 more years of living, if our life in Sydney is dependent on us and our behaviours, we will not make it well. 

There is one hope we as Jews have had, from the earliest days of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, even to these days. Our hope is in God, as David said, “O Israel, hope in the LORD; for with the LORD there is lovingkindness, and with Him is abundant redemption and He will redeem Israel from all his iniquities.”

Hope that is an anchor

When you hear the word ‘hope’ you might be less confident. You might use the same word when you buy a lottery ticket. “I hope I win!” But you don’t win. Or you might hope that your sports team wins in the Grand Final. You might hope the train or the bus comes very quickly. You might hope that you get a job that pays you very well. In each of those hopes, you have lived long enough to know that that hope will not pay off. In that case, you are using the word more like a ‘wish’. But that’s not how King David used the word. And it’s clarified in the Brit Hadasha by the writer of Hebrews.

Heb. 6:19 “This hope we have as an anchor of the soul, a hope both sure and steadfast.”

What is hope there? It’s the assurance that God is listening. He hears us. He delivers us. He saves us. 

Now don’t get me wrong. Every year people who have hope die. The rabbis get this one wrong. The Book of Life is not about surviving another 365 days. The Book of Life (Revelation 3.5) is one in which our names can be written for a forever future. How are we written there? Only if we trust in Yeshua, Jesus, to forgive us our sins, known and unknown, and receive him as Lord and Saviour of our lives. This hope is not whimsical or capricious. It is not an annually renewable contract. This hope is an anchor. An anchor that stabilizes even the largest of ships, that prevents it being lost, a guarantee of a better future. Our hope is fixed if we believe and trust in Yeshua to forgive us and fill us with his life and his Spirit. 

Invitation

Do you want that experience? Have you the hope that is an anchor of your soul? Do you want the forgiveness of all your sins, past, present, and future? There is only one way to be sure of that. There is only one way to have your name written in the Book of Life. By believing in Yeshua. Faith is the victory; faith is the hope of all mankind. Faith in the One who died for our sins and who alone can save us. 

If you want to be written in the Book of Eternal Life, pray with me just now. Pray this prayer and ask Messiah Yeshua to give you eternal life.

Father, in Yeshua’s name, I admit that my sins are great. I’m sorry for all the wrong I have done. I have not loved you with my whole heart. I have not loved my neighbour as myself. I’m truly sorry and I humbly repent. Please forgive me and make me born again. Today. Just now. I receive Yeshua as my Saviour; he alone can save me. He alone can make me to start over, to begin again, even on this day. The first day of the Jewish year, I receive Yeshua. Amen. 

Let us know

If you have just prayed that prayer, for the first time in your life, if you have just now received Messiah Yeshua as Saviour and as your Lord, please let me know, and tell me, won’t you? We confess him publicly and we gain the comfort of being with others who believe this as well. We have a family with whom to walk. A forgiven family. A loving family. 

 

An Open letter from a sister: Emily Elizabeth Anderson

 These are not my words, but they certainly rang a bell in me. I'm so sorry for the hurt in so many. My wife and I watched a several-part documentary on some similar stories from the 80s and 90s in the USA. And the movement spread worldwide, too, so perhaps this lady is from New Zealand or here in Oz. 

Listen with your heart and let's see how we can do the right thing in the right spirit in these days. OK?

An Open Letter to The Evangelical Church,

I’m a follower of Jesus, but not because of you.

You see, I grew up within your four walls. My family never missed a Sunday. I wore the long dresses and never cut my hair. I made sure to always smile and never complain. I stayed away from outsiders. I sheltered myself from any hint of the world.

But by the time I reached adulthood — drowning under the crushing weight of the fear-based teaching you placed upon me — I realized that I didn’t know who Jesus was.

You see, you spent 25 years telling me how to act like a Christian, but you never taught me about Jesus.

You taught me that only REAL Christians practised courtship and saved their first kiss for marriage.

Only REAL Christians wore head coverings and made sure their knees and shoulders were never exposed.

Only REAL Christians avoided rock music and tattoos.

Only REAL Christians read their Bible every single day and handed out Gospel tracts three times a week.

Only REAL Christians never get divorced.

You taught me all about God’s wrath — how if I stepped a toe out of line He would be quick to punish me. Severe illness, rape, financial ruin…

And now, years later after trying and then failing to follow all your rules, almost leading me to lose my faith entirely, I’m hearing countess others asking the same questions I once wrestled with.

Why are our marriages failing, despite practicing “fail-proof” courtship?

Why are one in four of us sexually abused, despite following your modesty message?

Why do you continue to protect the abusers in our lives, while shunning us who dare bring evil actions to light?

Why are we still plagued with chronic illness despite saying countless prayers?

Why do we often experience far less love in the body of Christ than in the non-believing community around us?

Your once-faithful members are crying out.

“What about us?” “What now?”

You taught us legalistic rules instead of the Gospel.

You taught us bondage instead of freedom.

You sheltered us from the very world Jesus commands His followers to go out into.

By drilling fear into our minds you didn’t point us to Jesus.

No.

The tragedy, dear Church, is not that people are leaving the Church in droves.

The real tragedy is that by starving your people of the true message of the Gospel, you have nearly-fatally wounded your once most devoted followers, and then left us with no one to turn to, because we’re told Jesus doesn’t want to see our mess.

The true Gospel message must include broken people, but you were too concerned about appearances to allow people to be broken.

You were too concerned about protecting wolves that you forgot about defending your sheep.

But thankfully, even when you disowned us, Jesus did not.

Even when you shunned me, Jesus did not.

When you told me that, because of my history of sexual abuse, I was a chewed-up piece of gum and no man would want me, Jesus told me that my worth was not defined by my sexual history.

When you told me that my chronic illness was a result of not forgiving my abuser, Jesus comforted me, and told me that my body having a natural reaction to abuse was not a sin.

When you told me that I was the cause of a man’s lust, Jesus told me that I wasn’t responsible for someone else’s choices.

When you told me that depression was evidence of lack of faith, Jesus pulled me in tighter, and assured me that nothing could separate me from His love.

When you told me that “God hates divorce”, Jesus told me that He hates the abuse that forces victims to flee to safety even more.

When you told me that we need to protect the name of Christianity by burying scandals, Jesus told me that He can defend His own name and to expose any darkness.

When you told me to “stay sweet”, Jesus told me to start flipping tables.

So you see, Church, you may have failed me, but Jesus didn’t.

You may have rejected me when I started to ask questions, but Jesus never let me go.

So I ask you, Church, will you turn away from your white-washed piety?

Are you willing to cast out the wolves in your pews and pulpits that you’ve given sanctuary to, and offer justice and mercy toward survivors?

Are you willing to take a stand for the oppressed, for the vulnerable, and for the abused?

Are you willing to see the disabled in your community as equal images bearers of Christ?

Are you willing to leave behind the chains of legalism and preach the radical freedom of the resurrected Christ?

Are you willing to end the deception of flashy and empty promises and instead comfort people in the midst of their raw grief and pain?

Are you willing to start following Jesus?

Because until you are willing, you will find more and more of your pews empty.

Not because your parishioners left the faith.

But because they went looking for hope outside of your walls — and finally found Jesus.

~ Emily Elizabeth Anderson

Finding where you belong

So many folks spend a lifetime sorting out how to belong to this group or that one. Should I join the croquet club or the crocheting club? I like to swim, but the pool is always so crowded, how do I fit there? Understanding belonging is a big deal any time, but certainly, as you exit school and other required venues of belonging. And, if you are reading this blog at 72 years of age, it's not too late for you, either!

The Jewish New Year and the rest of the High Holidays are upon us. Next Friday evening, the ceremonies, the dinners, the gatherings, and the duties all begin again. And for many it's a chore, for others, it's simply repetition and tradition. But for some of us, it's a heartstring and a way of reconnecting with our place and our sense of belonging. 

How do we find our place? Is it on the pickleball court, in the library, with that person or those people? Do we have a revulsion of being with those work associates and cannot wait to move on? Finding your place-- that's a big part of maturation and personal growth. 

How do we find that place? I could describe it in this way. What are you finding yourself making happen just now? And what gives you a sense of pleasure? Is it your work? Your studies? Your time alone or your time with others? Is it sport? Is it food? Whatever is giving you that 'smile on the inside'... that's what you should continue. You should find ways in which to participate there with some semblance of regularity. 

Is it religion? Is it philosophy? At the end of each day, or at least today, if you could do something again, what would it be? OK, that's a single driver, but now expand that. What has given you joy this year? Did it involve others or were you completely isolated? 

Take an honest evaluation, use a journal if you can, look back through your photos on FB or Insta, how long did you spend watching reels on TikTok or bingeing on Netflix? What is it about that genre of comedy or movies or songs that gets you going? 

OK< you are finding out what's important to you. I interviewed a woman in Virgina on my podcast last week who is a financial helper to many. Suzanne Scullion runs GRACE Financial Coaching. She starts her initial meeting with folks with some questions about what their financial goals are, and then monitors their spending habits. She said basically, "If they tell me their goals are for sending children to college but they spent $1,400 on eating out last month, they are not being realistic." 

So, with Suzanne's advice in mind, what have you determined to be your real interests? That's the first 'port of call' in determining your place of belonging. 

Now, look around. and see who else is walking out at that same place. See who is near you, and they are doing what they enjoy. It could be the church, and you find out that this guy and that gal are also in your neighbourhood. You join them in their small group and you find out they have other similar interests. It could be as simple as an evening stroll at home after dinner. You meet someone or others who are also going out for their 'evening constitutional.' It starts with a greeting, "Evening, Joe." and progresses to deeper and meaningful conversations. 

Finding belonging matters. 

Finding others with whom you belong is essential for a meaningful life. It starts with self-evaluation and honesty. Start there, and let me know how you go. Maybe we belong together?

L'shana tovah!