Introduction
Shabbat shalom to each of you here at the congregation and to any who will watch us on YouTube later. I appreciate the opportunity to address you this morning on Shabbat Bamidbar. You might know that I’m originally from Kansas City, from Prairie Village, born in 1951 and even graduated KU back in the 1970s. But when I drove here this morning from Overland Park, I passed through Ruskin Heights, and I had a flashback of 1957 and the tornado that devastated that area. Perhaps some of you were around then and remember that season as well. (For full details, see https://www.weather.gov/eax/RuskinHeights ) The anniversary of that tragic meteorological event is next Wednesday on the 20th. Next year will be its 70th anniversary.
You see, I was only 5 years old at the time, but every year during tornado season which was then defined as 2 months, April to June, at our home, from then on, we had a practice drill, and then often real actions when someone would report a sighting of a twister. The drill included flipping the sofa onto its back in the living room and bringing the transistor radio into the small cavern that created. We each had a glass of water and some reading materials. We were ready for the tornado if it came. We had no basement. No real safe place. But that posture and that position is how we prepared for the eventual weather problem. As you can see, we survived and never had to survive any more than a drill.
You will understand why when I passed the exit for Blue Ridge Boulevard this morning, I pondered that fateful day when 44 people died and hundreds more were injured. Even though we are officially here in Tornado Alley, it was only 1957 and Ruskin Heights which are fixed in my mind. You might be thinking, ok, Bob, why are you telling us about this?
A packed series of holidays
Let me give you some Jewish context. Next week we will celebrate Shavuot. In fact during the last six weeks, we have celebrated Passover, as well as the Feast of Matzot, and that mysterious 3rd day holiday, First Fruits. We have also noted during the counting of the Omer other Yomim. These holidays are Yom Hashoah (Holocaust Remembrance), Yom Hazikaron (Memorial Day), Yom Ha'atzmaut (Independence Day), and Lag BaOmer. Then last week we noted Yom Yerushalayim. Are you weary of such continuous observances? Perhaps if you lived and worked in Israel, then Memorial Day (Zikaron) and Independence Day (Ha’atzma’ut) and Jerusalem Day would make much more sense. But think about it. We have similar events in the US; they are just more spread out. Shoah in January is even noted worldwide. Memorial Day will feature next weekend. July 4 is in a couple of months. We don’t have a special day for a city like Jerusalem or even a region that came into the Union after our Founding, but otherwise, we, like other countries, honour the past.
Let me ask you. What is the point of all these holidays? Or really, what is the point of any holiday? Is it just to take time off work and get paid for it? Like Presidents’ Day or Labour Day? Is that why we have those holidays? Or is it only to look backwards?
What is the point?
Today
You see, I believe that as people, set apart people, we have responsibilities in time. We must live as godly people today. That’s the present. We are called to holy living. We are commanded to do what God wants. And what is that? Micah the prophet says, “What does the Lord require of thee? To do justly, to love mercy and to walk humbly with thy God.” (6.8)
James, or Ya’akov, the apostle taught us that “pure and undefiled religion is to take care of widows and orphans in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained from the world.” (1.27)
OK, that’s part of the mandate for believers in our day. And on this day. Care for the stranger. Love of neighbour. Love God with everything you have. Lock it in. That’s a today thing.
What about the future? What will God want from us in the future? Read through the tochacha which we saw in last week’s parasha, the short list in Leviticus 26 (Behar-Bechukotai) and even if you have time the long list in Deuteronomy 28. The commands are detailed, and the consequences of failure is repeated so clearly, that we must surely take it all on board. We think we do ok, now and then, with biblical compliance, but if we are honest, rigorously honest, we will admit to continuous failures. Listen to this warning in Deuteronomy 28.47 and following:
“Because you did not serve the Lord your God with joy and a glad heart, for the abundance of all things; therefore you shall serve your enemies whom the Lord will send against you, in hunger, in thirst, in nakedness, and in the lack of all things; and He will put an iron yoke on your neck until He has destroyed you.” (.47-48)
I love that passage. God doesn’t want us to function as machines. He loves us personally. Not privately, don’t get that wrong. Personally, and communally. That’s why you meet together. That’s why you are a congregation. And together we are responsible for one another to help support each other to do justly, love mercy and walk together humbly with God, with joy and a glad heart, for the abundance of all things. I don’t have everything, but together we have all things. I’m not the body of Messiah; we are. Together. And as the body, we take care of one another, like a comforting hand to a stubbed toe. That’s an honest future hope.
I’m not called to fulfill Torah by myself. I’m not called to love in the new commandment that Yeshua invoked on us. We are. I’m part of y’all. You are part of me. And there are other parts of the Body of King Messiah here in KC meeting even this morning. And there are other parts of His body meeting tomorrow and Tuesday and any and every day. We are not in another body; we are in His body. And together we can, as the first disciples were, called to monitoring and support, to make His great name known on the planet. To the Jew first, and also to the Gentiles.
So that’s present and that’s the future. But what about the past?
That’s where holidays come in. And memory. And history. And grandparents. You see, in our days, for many looking backwards is considered passé. Even though we know the citation of Santayana from over 100 years ago, "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." This famous aphorism by philosopher George Santayana, published in his 1905 work The Life of Reason, emphasizes that learning from history is essential to avoid repeating past mistakes, failures, and conflicts.
It’s shocking, isn’t it, when you speak with some people near us or online, especially those who are fuelling racism and antisemitism, when we try to speak to them, and help them with history about Jewish people, that they are surprisingly ignorant of us. It’s disappointing.
Friends, here at B’nai Yeshurun, I’m keen to help us all find meaning looking at all times. Whether that is looking backwards, or looking in the mirror, and in the Word of God, and in the future plans of the Lord. Those backward looks are designed to strengthen us for today. They are designed to remind us of good times and bad times in our own history and in the history of the people in the Bible.
So we have holidays and Scripture and memories. And here’s one—corroboration. You see, as we age, we tend to certain mistakes. We forget things. Not the whole thing, but certain aspects of an event or a situation. And thus we amplify, amend, exaggerate, or omit data points. The time I hit a home run becomes the time I hit three home runs and a double and stole a base. The time we made a pumpkin pie for Mrs Goldberg becomes the time that our whole family brought pies and cakes and soda pop to the entire Goldberg family for a couple of days in a row. The purpose of telling and retelling the stories, the tribal history of our clan, of our family, of our nation—the purpose is to ensure that the story is correct, and the results of the encounters remain accurate and repeatable. We tell stories and others corroborate the story.
For instance, how many people finally escaped Egypt in the Exodus?
How many of our people over the age of 20 entered the Promised Land under Joshua?
When did Yeshua die and rise again?
Who were the first people to testify about him after the Resurrection?
All of these are facts found in the Book, and by them we are strengthened in our faith and in our confidence in the rest of the Book. Faith comes. Hearing the Word of God increases our trust, our faith, our belief that the Scripture is reliable. We corroborate the Word in our own lives!
And I know, I know, holidays are tiring at times. But they also are times of retelling of stories, whether the modern stories of taking Jerusalem as we recounted last week on Yom Yerushalayim or as we did in early April by retelling the story of Passover. The stories are corroborated and find their way into us. It’s tradition, for sure. And remember, it’s not you who keeps tradition. Traditions keep you!
Bamidbar
Today’s sedra is not about twisters and holidays. It’s fairly diagrammatic. Duties are dispensed and a census is taken. That’s pretty ordinary. After all it’s “in the wilderness.” Out there, nothing much is supposed to happen. It’s usually barren. It’s commonplace. Compare where we are just now in Greenwood or as I drove here this morning with where I live in Sydney Australia—those are two very different locations. But whether you are near the ocean or near Kauffman Stadium, most of your life, and most of my life is fairly ordinary. Most of our lives are ‘in the wilderness.’ Nothing to write home about; nothing to celebrate. We eat and drink, but not much to be merry about.
I’m not complaining, mind you. In fact, coming to that realization that most of life is mundane and ordinary gave me a wonderful sense of relief. I didn’t have to have a ‘great day’ in capital letters. I didn’t have to win lottery, or the Chiefs didn’t have to win each game they played. My lawn didn’t have to be the greenest and most manicured on the street; my kids didn’t have to be the most spectacular in their schools. Ordinary is ok; it’s not a failure. It’s normative.
And in those ordinary times, in the wilderness, we remember. What is it we are to remember? The words of God. The stories of God and his people. The stories of God, his people and us. And if we tell those stories, and they are corroborated, then others are benefitted by them as well.
The Jewish prophet Hosea didn’t have many good things to say to our people in his prophecies during 14 chapters of the Older Testament. But even he said this of the wilderness and the Jewish people.
“Therefore, I am now going to allure her; I will lead her into the wilderness and speak tenderly to her. There I will give her back her vineyards and will make the Valley of Achor a door of hope. There she will sing as in the days of her youth, as in the day she came up out of Egypt.” (Hosea 2.16-17)
Rabbi Sachs of blessed memory said this of that passage, “Hosea used the wilderness as a symbol of the betrothal between God and the Israelites. God had ‘married’ the people, but they had acted unfaithfully. God would punish them. They would suffer disasters. Yet He could not abandon them, so great was His love. So, in an act of reconciliation, He would bring them back and renew their marriage vows in the wilderness, understood as a kind of second honeymoon.”
It was for me in 1971 when I was 19 years old that I finally heard the story of Yeshua, our Messiah. I’d probably read the Kansas City Times or Star in my youth and read the daily column, “My answer” by Billy Graham, the evangelist. Of course I also read the comics with Blondie, Charley Brown, and Dennis the Menace. I’d probably given as much weight to all four.
But there I was at 19, walking in Volker Park, right next to the Nelson Art Gallery, and there I met two young people, my age, who were out to share their newfound faith. They were members of the community nicknamed the House of Agape and they met on Sunday nights at 55th and Oak. There these two, John and Pam, were sitting on the steps and saw me in my hippie clothes, haircut and attitude, and they called out to me. I stopped in my tracks. We had a Bible argument, and they were overwhelming in their love of the Lord and although I might have said later that “I won that battle”, they pointed me to the Messiah, to our Saviour, and I couldn’t shake their impression. They lived it. They wanted me to experience the salvation that only comes from Messiah.
Three days later, in Leawood, I sat again on a stoop, this time of a house. This time with a Christian gal I had met only a week previously. I knew she was born again. I knew she believed in Jesus. And yet, she had helped me read the Bible after meeting John and Pam. In fact, we stayed up all night that Friday night and read Matthew and even parts of Revelation. I pummelled her with questions. She answered as best as she could.
So here I was on the stoop at her parents’ house. I told her I wanted what I was reading in the Bible. I wanted peace and I wanted to follow this Nazarene. I really liked this man—a classic hippie. He had peace and love and that’s what I wanted. But I said, “I don’t want Jesus.” I knew that my Orthodox family would not have understood. We were members of Kehilath Israel.
She replied, “you don’t get this Jesus stuff unless you take him as your Messiah and Saviour.” Surprise of surprises, that was enough for me. I prayed with Marva that night, May of 1971, 55 years ago, one week before Shavuot, to receive Yeshua as my Saviour. I cried. I was forgiven. Hallelujah! 55 years ago this weekend!
After we sang “Amazing Grace” and she gave me some words of assurance, I returned to my parents’ house in Prairie Village. I told them of my newfound faith. They didn’t like it. They were enraged. They kicked me out of the house; I got a new apartment near Westport, got a new job, and a new life in Yeshua—all within 12 hours.
My life as an adventure began with a start, maybe with a jump start. And since that evening in May of 1971, I’ve lived in KC, then Lawrence, San Francisco, New York, Chicago, Washington DC, Sydney Australia, and now split time between Sydney and Nashville. My life is an adventure in the wilderness. Even though I have home, and a wife of 49 years, 3 adult children and 7 grandchildren, I still consider myself a wanderer in a wilderness.
I joined our mission, “Yehudim l’ma’an Yeshua” which is usually known as Jews for Jesus, in 1979, and love our work of living out the Gospel and sharing with our Jewish people. This weekend I have visits set with three more Jews here in KC to help them unpack the issue of Messiah and maybe to make a decision to follow him.
Our teams worldwide are working again this week. 70 full time staff in Israel; 250 full time staff worldwide. Here’s a quick glimpse of our latest work, on this video.
On the screen you will see a QR code that I hope you will use with your phone to sign up to hear more from our organization about the good work of partnering we are doing in Israel, in London, New York.. Sydney… friends, it’s global. I hope you will consider supporting our efforts financially and in prayer. And I hope we can cooperate to make Yeshua known in Kansas City among our people here as well.
If you don’t like using QR codes, you can use the brochure like this “Nets are breaking” brochure which you will find up the back and sign up in the traditional method to hear from us. We are your partners in Ukraine and Israel; we are working in South Africa and Russia, and reopening new branches this year in Boston and South Florida. We aren’t done by a long shot!
My wilderness wandering continues and I am glad.
Next week, I’m sure you will speak much about Torah and the giving or the receiving of Torah, about the lightning and thunder and fear on and around Mt Sinai. But that was of course, not near a city, not an urban centre—it was out in the wilderness. In fact, so much of holy life and biblical activity is found in the wilderness. And maybe Rabbi Yosef will again mention Ruskin Heights and the tornado in 1957 and the commensurate fear and violence of the storm and lightning and thunder. After all Ruskin Heights was not exactly an urban center those 69 years ago.
But here you are, today, in a major city readying to host The World Cup of soccer, with over 2 million residents in the metropolitan area and it does not seem like the wilderness that it was back then. (As of 2024–2025, the Kansas City, Missouri, city population is over 508,000, while the 14-county bi-state metropolitan area (MO-KS) has surpassed 2.25 million residents. The metro area is experiencing steady growth, with suburban counties like Clay, Cass, and Jackson seeing population increases, with an estimated metro population of 2,270,682 in 2025).
But don’t you feel like you are in one every now and then?
So what are you supposed to take away from today’s service and today’s sermon?
1) That Jewish people can find Messiah and are doing so in surprising numbers since October 7 two and a half years ago.
2) That your ordinary life is not less, it’s not weak, it’s not without meaning. God uses the valleys as a training ground for us. Oswald Chambers emphasized this when he said that ordinary life is the primary, sacred venue for spiritual growth and service to God, stating that "we are not made for the mountains, for sunrises, or for the other beautiful attractions in life" but for the "valley" and the "ordinary things". He maintained that true spiritual character is revealed through mundane daily routines, not in spectacular, emotional experiences.
3) That holidays have a solid place in our walk with the Lord, to remind us of his actions in the past and even of our actions then, so that we can trust him today.
4) That God is Sovereign over all times, past, present and future, and we can trust him in each of those throughout our days, even to the end of our days.
Thanks again to Rabbi Yosef and all of you here this Shabbat Bamidbar, as we walk the journey together, today here, and tomorrow and from now on, with the entire Body of Messiah, and make His name known, for there is no other name given under heaven by which anyone can be saved. Shabbat shalom!
No comments:
Post a Comment