Between the holidays... from Kansas City on Shabbat Bamidbar

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 20^th. Next year will be its 70^th 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 3^rd 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 55^th 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!

Disaster Movies and Hanukkah

Do you remember your favourite disaster movie? Perhaps it’s your favourite due to how tense you felt through the entire 2^nd half. Disaster movies occupy a unique place in popular culture, blending spectacle, emotion, and existential dread into narratives that simultaneously unsettle and captivate audiences. Whether the threat is an asteroid hurtling toward Earth, a global pandemic, a super-volcano, or the collapse of civilisation, these films operate on a predictable but powerful formula: introduce catastrophic stakes, test the limits of human resilience, and ultimately reveal something about the human spirit. Although they often rely on grandiose visual effects and exaggerated scenarios, their emotional core rests on the notion that crises strip away illusion and reveal what truly matters.

In many disaster films, the chaos is not merely physical but also social. Systems fail, communication breaks down, and everyday norms evaporate. Without shared rituals and cultural anchors, characters lose a sense of continuity and meaning. 

This framework provides a surprising avenue to explore an entirely different idea: what might the world be like if Hanukkah did not exist? At first glance, the absence of a holiday seems trivial compared to an asteroid impact or global flood. Yet, when viewed through the thematic lens of disaster storytelling, the comparison becomes clearer and more revealing.

Hanukkah is not only a religious celebration for Jewish people, but also a major cultural and emotional touchstone. It functions as a seasonal pause—a moment in which people reset, reconnect, and reaffirm values such as generosity, hope, and unity. Even for those who do not celebrate it religiously, the season brings traditions, rituals, and communal rhythms that influence social life. Removing Hanukkah from the calendar would not cause physical destruction, but it would create a subtler form of cultural void, a loss of symbolic structure that shapes the emotional climate of society.

In many disaster movies, characters struggle not only with survival but also with the collapse of the familiar. The loss of Hanukkah would produce a similar, though gentler, disorientation. The absence of the menorah, the holiday lights, family gatherings, seasonal music, gift-giving, and charitable practices would create a quieter world, one in which winter up north felt longer, darker, and less punctuated by warmth. The emotional resilience displayed by characters in disaster films mirrors the resilience people might need to cultivate in a world stripped of its winter rituals.

Moreover, disaster films often explore the importance of community. When catastrophe strikes, characters’ differences become secondary to their shared humanity. In this way, the communal spirit that emerges in disaster scenarios mirrors the communal spirit that Hanukkah encourages in real life. Without Hanukkah, society might lose one of its most accessible avenues for collective empathy. The symbolic reset that occurs each year—when people reflect, give, forgive, and hope—would vanish. Disaster movies teach us that rituals and shared moments are essential not because they prevent catastrophe but because they provide meaning in the face of it.

Thus, while the absence of Hanukkah would not constitute a disaster in the cinematic sense, it would remove a stabilizing narrative from the cultural calendar. Disaster movies remind us that amid chaos, what keeps humanity intact is not survival alone but the stories, traditions, and connections that give our lives coherence. In that sense, a world without Hanukkah would echo the emotional landscape of disaster films: a world searching for light in the dark.

But by this I’m speaking only of the cultural values of Hanukkah. What about the reality, the historical narrative that we sing about, we tell about, and retell about, each 25 Kislev. What about the Maccabees and Antiochus Ephiphanes? Can we honestly separate the history, the story itself, from our cultural takeaways? If there were no Judah Maccabee and the Jewish people had indeed bowed to the Syrian Greeks in 168 BCE, what would be the disaster? 

To me, those secularists who remove this true story from the holiday, those atheist Jews who only want the cultural story to win out, make this season into a morality play about survival based on theatre and not about truth. That’s not how I was raised. The purpose of telling the story is not that everyone should have religious freedom. The event, whether this one we celebrate tonight, the faithful defiant stance of the Maccabees against the governmental demands in Mod’in in what we call Israel, or the Passover story as we Jews withstood the slavery and polytheistic overlords in Egypt—all those events are real, historical and yes, have cultural takeaways. 

Without the real event with real Jewish characters standing up for God and His ways, and without God intervening and sparing the few Jewish rebels, then what’s the point of teaching this as history? And if it’s not an event in history, then our story becomes as meaningful as anyone else’s story against us. If our story is only an Aesop’s fable or a disaster movie, if Hollywood could tell it as accurately or remove from it the “Based on a true story” opening, then this fiction has no substance at all. Everyone can tell a story and draw from it whatever they want. That, I aver, would be a disaster.

The truth is Antiochus had demanded total honour from his people over whom he ruled. Some Hellenized Jewish people had acceded to his demands. Mattathias Maccabee, a Judean priest, and his sons withstood that demand and especially the bowing to the idol of Antiochus as it travelled into Mod’in. They even killed a Jew as well as a Seleucid overlord there. Over in Jerusalem, some Syrian Greeks had set up an idol in the Holy Temple and sacrificed to it, even a pig was slaughtered and its blood sprinkled on the altar. When his father died, Judah Maccabee stood up and continued the rebellion against such blasphemous and hostile desecration. Finally, after three years, on 25 Kislev in 165 BCE, they purged the Greeks from the Temple and cleansed and dedicated it to the Lord. The Hebrew word “Hanukkah” means “Dedication,” and it is that whole story, based on a true story, which is worth telling and retelling, and remembering in this season and any time. 

If you really want to carry this further, if that disaster had worked fully, and if there were no faithful Jews in 165 BCE, then I imagine it would have continued 200 more years. If God had not intervened and strengthened His people and caused them to repent of their idolatrous ways and turned back to Him… if God had been removed from the conversation in Greece or Rome or throughout the known world in say, -4 BCE, then there would be no Christmas story either. No wise men looking for the King of the Jews. No Jewish old people like Simeon or Anna waiting in the Temple in Jerusalem for the Hope of Israel. If there were no Hanukkah, there would be no birth of the Messiah, no shepherds in the field and angels singing “Gloria in Excelsis Deo.” Without Hanukkah there would be no Christmas. 

And without Christmas there would be no cultural takeaways like the holiday lights, family gatherings, seasonal music, gift-giving, and charitable practices. Without Christmas, society might lose one of its most accessible avenues for collective empathy. The symbolic reset that occurs each year—when people reflect, give, forgive, and hope—would vanish. Disaster movies teach us that rituals and shared moments are essential not because they prevent catastrophe but because they provide meaning in the face of it.

Yes, it would be a disaster to have a world without Hanukkah and Christmas. The Jewish people would be gone like so many other ancient peoples: the Seleucids, the Hittites, the Mesopotamians, the Amorites, and the like. But worse than that, we would not have the birth of the greatest Jew who ever lived, the Saviour of the World, who was born in a village as small as Mod’in, named Bethlehem. His birth and substantial life that followed brings hope to a waiting world. Not because of family gift-giving, but because God loved the world so much that He gave His only begotten Son, so that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life. Jesus laid down His life of his own volition 33 years later a cross there in Jerusalem within walking distance of the Holy Temple. That happened. It’s not a fable. It’s the true story. 

What you do with that story determines your takeaways. 

Do you believe it? If so, join Simeon and Anna. If you believe it, join the shepherds and angels singing. If so, join me and countless others in proclaiming “Jesus is Lord” to the glory of God the Father.  Then it will be a great Hanukkah and great Christmas. The real disaster is hearing the story and thinking this is only a movie plot. Dear friend, the truth is out there. Embrace it. Believe it. Celebrate Him.

 

 

Rosh Hashanah 5782: The King as Judge and Jury

It's not hard to see injustice in the world today. It's everywhere. And the notion of "it's not fair' shouts at us from the playground's fence which is locked as a prevention to the tears of the daughter prevented from seeing her dying father because the border to his state is similarly locked. The reason for all the closures, they say, is a virus and the need to keep it away from others. 

But some bypass the border restrictions if they have money or a football league and its wealth behind them. That only amplifies the unfairness of border closures, at least to those of us who are prevented.

On an ordinary day, such reasoning is accepted. Take for example, the sexual offender/criminal. We want, after his sentence at the jail is complete, him to be released (that's fair), but not in my backyard. That would be unfair. 

So the closed playground, or the closed state borders, the closed neighbourhood-- all these moments in time, even in our times, are real and evidence the cries that are justified, "It's not fair!"

'Fairness' is the modern word for the more ancient term 'justice.'

Monday evening, the 6th of September, across the world, Jewish people will pause their already-paused life due to the virus of COVID-19, and begin the 10 days of prayer and consideration called the '10 Days of Awe.' Rosh Hashanah begins the calendar watch as we hear the sound of the shofar, traditionally blown 100 times each day during the first two days of the year 5,782. Jewish people consider this the number of years since the original couple from the Bible was created. That's how long it has been since Adam and Eve were created and placed in the Garden of Eden. That's also how long it's been since the first cries of 'It's not fair!' were heard in the world. 

After all, how were they supposed to know what would happen if they disregarded or as we have learned for centuries, disobeyed the Almighty? The information was limited; the declaration of what was allowed and what was disallowed was scant.  Some in our day would say the legislation was confusing. All we have recorded from the Bible is "The LORD God commanded the man, saying, “From any tree of the garden you may eat freely; but from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat from it you will surely die.” (Genesis 2.16-17)

Not much to go on there. An entire patch of land, perhaps the size of New South Wales, and yet, this deity told the man of the household to enjoy the lot. All except for one tree, don't eat from that one, or there will be consequences.

If you have ever had children, or ever were one, you know that as soon as instructions like this are given, after a certain age of the child, the invitation to disobey seems larger than the call to obedience. Sure enough, the story unfolds as a certain serpent slinks along on all fours and invites the woman of the couple, who hadn't heard the message directly from the Lord herself, to have a bite. Sure enough, she does, and then the man joins her in this fatal snack. 

Boom! What follows is the monologue of the judge sentencing both the man and woman to ongoing troubles and death and sentencing the serpent to slide on his belly from then on. The three curses, on each of the participants in that Garden scene, are still with us to this day. But some will cry, "that's not fair!" For 5700 years Adam's descendants would work by the sweat of their brow and have other troubles. What did we do? Why is this punishment being doled out to us?

From verse 17 of chapter 3 of Genesis we read, "Cursed is the ground because of you; In toil, you will eat of it all the days of your life. Both thorns and thistles it shall grow for you, and you will eat the plants of the field. By the sweat of your face you will eat bread until you return to the ground. Because from it, you were taken; for you are dust, and to dust, you shall return.” (Genesis 3.17-19)

Listen to the curses, yes, we call them curses, not only consequences but penalties harsher than a 6-week suspension from rugby or a small notice in the sports section after Tom Brady in 2014 with Deflategate.

To the woman, God declared three (and some say 10 (Nathan, page 9)) penalties. "To the woman, He said, “I will greatly multiply your pain in childbirth. In pain, you will bring forth children, yet your desire will be for your husband. And he will rule over you.” (Genesis 3.16)

That all seems so unfair, so unjust. I mean, ok, it's justice. Yes, we see that. God was in charge of the Garden. It was his place after all. They were brought in to tend to the setting like Peter Sellers in "Being There" they were Chauncy Gardeners. I get that. But seriously, one little mistake would cost them forever the chance to stay in the Garden. Even Joni Mitchell and Crosby, Stills, and Nash later went to Woodstock and wanted to 'get themselves back to the Garden." 

Don't you want to cry 'foul?' Don't you want to say, 'that's not fair!'

We'll talk more about the punishments, especially to the serpent in a while.

On Rosh Hashanah, the saying goes, it is written and on Yom Kippur, it is sealed. May it be written, and may it be sealed that you have a new year that brings fulfillment and joy, peace and prosperity, health and wisdom. That's a lot of 'may it be.' Some would say, it's a lot of wishful thinking. On what is it based after all?

These 10 days we ponder the God who made Adam and Eve, and who, we are told, is Sovereign over all the earth. Here in Australia we understand the term ‘sovereign’ while in the US, where I grew up, that’s an odd term. But a sovereign is more than a coin, it’s the ruler, the dominus, actually the KING is the best term for that. God wants to be king in our lives the next week and a half. 

Of course, 10 days does not make a person a subject of a king, as that’s something we work on throughout our lives. But there is time to render yourself the subject of the king during this period and thus ensure that his kingship, his sovereignty, his kingdom will rule in your life going forward. That’s actually the point of this season. To reconcile ourselves to him as Judge and King. That’s why we have round challahs. They represent God as King and Sovereign. It’s an image of his crown. Yes, of course, it’s about the continuity of the calendar that goes around and around, and on and on, but it’s more than that. I wear a mitre, like a king’s crown and a white robe. It’s royal. God wants us to remember his kingship this day and these 10 days. He is the king and in Bible days, the king was the judge. Remember King Solomon and the two women fighting over the same baby? As the king he had to consider the court his own and make determinations. He was the Judge.

In our days, we often think of a judge and the instructions the judge gives the jury. The jury, a court within a court of 12 of the defendant’s peers, listen and make those decisions mostly in criminal cases here in Australia. The judge is left to sentence what the jury decides. But in the court in heaven, there is one judge and he is also the jury. To be sure, each of us has a role to play in sustaining one another in the family of God, but when it comes to judgment and punishments, there is one Lawgiver and one eternal Judge before whom we all must stand. 

That could sound ominous to you. It probably does if you ponder your own sin and the penalty or penalties those deserve. Yes, the Judge, the Jury, the prosecution led by the District Attorney, are all in agreement. But that’s not the worst of it. You see, even your own lawyer who knows the law will tell you that your sins have separated you from the Lord. (Isa. 59.1-2) There is not a righteous man on earth who continually does good and does not sin. (Ecclesiastes 7.20) The soul that sins, that one shall die. (Ezek. 18.4) This sounds fairly hopeless, doesn’t it?

We need a lawyer, an advocate who can argue something or that can fix our desperate situation. Where is such a one?

For that we have to go back to our Bible reading and listen to the declaration by the Almighty against the serpent. There we see and hear a hint of hope in this most desperate situation.

It’s in verse 15. 

I will put enmity between you and the woman. Between your seed and her seed. He will crush your head and you will crush his heel.

There we see a hint of how this meeting with the King might actually turn out to be different in our days. Strange, isn’t it that we should look back 5700 years to find a hint of hope?

I’ll get back to this hint in a few minutes.

For now, what do most Sydneysiders do when confronted with their own loss, their own failures, their own dismal desperation? After all, this is New Year’s Eve, and we in Sydney know how to bring that in, not only for us, but for the rest of the world. We light up the bridge and the harbor, and make resolutions, don’t we?

We resolve to do better.

We resolve to make a change in our diet or in our exercise regimen. We hope, often against hope, that something will be different in our lives, but often by the 10^th of January, all those hopes are dashed. 

But, you might argue, we are religious and thus our resolutions are of a different calibre and quality. And you may be right. So maybe your ‘read the Bible in a year’ program did prove successful that one year. Maybe your ‘fasting on Mondays and Thursdays’ lasted until Passover, but then again, maybe it didn’t. We couch our change mechanisms in religious terms, but that won’t fix the problems at all. In fact, at times they make the problems that much worse. 

When confronted with our own insufficiencies, we promise to reform. But that fails.

Then we have to look elsewhere, away from ourselves, to a power that is both outside us and who is stronger than us. Who or where is that help?

King David sang, “essa einai, el hehorim” in Psalm 121. He found out that his help was not on the mountains or we might add, not on the harbour. His help comes from the Lord, maker of heaven and earth. 

Here then, my friends, is the conundrum. We have the demands of God, for wholesome life choices and responsible love for him and our neighbour. We have the justice demands measured against our failures and what we call ‘sin’, or rather, what God calls ‘sin.’ So how is it that our help comes from the Lord, maker of heaven and earth?

The answer is in our Bible text tonight. The curse on the serpent was in answer to Satan’s boasts. 

Listen to his boasts, to which God replied.

Satan said he would kill Adam and wed Eve. God answered, “I will put enmity between you and the woman.” He thought he would be the king over the whole world. God’s answer was ‘cursed are you from among all cattle.” Your thought was “I will walk upright” but God answered you were to crawl on your belly. Your thought was “I will eat the world’s dainties.” God said, you will eat dust all the days of your life.”

But there is one that the rabbis seem to miss. In our text, the enmity between the serpent and Eve is carried on through generations. We read that the seed of the woman will crush the head of the serpent. This ultimate victory over the Satanic forces of the world catches my attention every year. 

The victory for which we all long, every year when we litanize our sins, the victory over sin itself, and the way into the presence of the Almighty, is not from our own reformation or our own realization. The victory is in our repentance to the One who is the serpent-bruiser. Conquering sin and Satan is the work of the Messiah. 

In fact in Bereshit Rabba 23, a rabbinic commentary on Genesis, we read, “Eve had respect to that seed which is coming from another place. And who is this? This is Messiah the King.”

The one to bruise or crush the serpent is actually King Messiah. Now this begins to make sense. The only one who can fix things between us and the Lord is the Lord himself. It would take a royal to go before the king and plead our case. Only an in-house royal could accomplish what we, the members of the masses, so desperately need. 

And thus he did. Yeshua came from heaven to a patch of ground smaller than New South Wales, a village outside Jerusalem in Bethlehem approximately 2000 years ago. Why did he come? The words of the song say this:

In the darkness we were waiting 

Without hope, without light 

Till from heaven You came running;

There was mercy in Your eyes 

 

To fulfil the law and prophets 

To a virgin came the Word. 

From a throne of endless glory 

To a cradle in the dirt.

 

To reveal the kingdom coming 

And to reconcile the lost, 

To redeem the whole creation 

You did not despise the cross.

 

For even in Your suffering 

You saw to the other side, 

Knowing this was our salvation 

Jesus for our sake 

You died.” (written by Brooke Ligertwood, Scott Ligertwood, and Jason Ingram)

There is the victory for us in Sydney. For those of you on the zoom call in New Zealand or in the USA. Up in South Korea or Japan, and wherever you live. The promise of the Bruised One who would bruise the serpent and win for us the victory is fulfilled in Yeshua, born in Bethlehem, but he already ever existed. 

On this evening of Rosh Hashanah, take away more than extra calories in round challot and apples dipped in honey. Take away more than the shofar blasts. Take away the joy of knowing you are forgiven and redeemed. God initiated this in the Garden of Eden. And you can rejoice in this season of rejoicing because GOD has taken away your sins. 

Yes, there will continue to be football players who get away with high tackles or mistreatment of others. Yes, we will feel the bother of COVID even though we will hit the 80% vaccinated here in NSW. “It’s not fair!” may be a cry you feel, if not repeat, when others get ahead of you, or ahead of those for whom you barrack. Your favourite café may never reopen. The bad guys will appear to get away with murder.

In the end, when Yeshua comes back to earth, restoration will happen. Peter pronounced this early in his public ministry:

“But the things which God announced beforehand by the mouth of all the prophets, that His messiah would suffer, he has thus fulfilled, therefore repent and return, so that your sins may be wiped away, in order that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord; and that he may send Yeshua, the messiah appointed for you, whom heaven must receive until the period of restoration of all things (Acts 3.18-21)

The call then is to repent and return. That’s still my call tonight. 

INVITATION

In a moment I’m going to ask you if you would like to receive Yeshua as your messiah and saviour. I’m going to ask if you want the one who was Beaten to beat the serpent on your behalf. His justice is everlasting. His fairness is unto the ages. 

Yeshua took it on the chin, and in his wrists and feet, and died a criminal’s death so that you could have eternal life. 

Do you want that?

Do you want God’s justice?

If so, pray with me just now. 

If you prayed that prayer, just now, will you write me to let me know?   bob@jewsforjesus.org.au   I’d love to write you back and encourage you and be available to answer any queries you have. Or at least I’ll try!

We don’t ask God to inscribe us in the Book of Life any more. That’s already been done. We don’t ask him to seal you any longer. That’s been done by the Spirit of God. 

We ask God to give you a good and sweet year. L’shana tovah um’tookah to you and all yours in 5782 and well beyond.

Let’s listen and sing along to that song, please.

 

-----------------------/

 

Bibliography:

The Fathers According to Rabbi Nathan, Judah Goldin (Translated), Schocken Books, New York, 1955. 

 

Actual text read

Gen. 3:1   Now the serpent was more crafty than any beast of the field which the LORD God had made. And he said to the woman, “Indeed, has God said, ‘You shall not eat from ¹any tree of the garden’?” ² The woman said to the serpent, “From the fruit of the trees of the garden we may eat; ³ but from the fruit of the tree which is in the middle of the garden, God has said, ‘You shall not eat from it or touch it, or you will die.’” ⁴ The serpent said to the woman, “You surely will not die! ⁵ “For God knows that in the day you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and ^ayou will be like God, knowing good and evil.” ⁶ When the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was desirable to make one wise, she took from its fruit and ate; and she gave also to her husband with her, and he ate. ⁷ Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they ^aknew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves ¹loin coverings.

 

Gen. 3:8   They heard the sound of ^athe LORD God walking in the garden in the ¹cool of the day, ^band the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the LORD God among the trees of the garden. ⁹ Then the LORD God called to the man, and said to him, “^aWhere are you?” ¹⁰ He said, “^aI heard the sound of You in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid myself.” ¹¹ And He said, “Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten from the tree of which I commanded you not to eat?” ^12 aThe man said, “The woman whom You gave to be with me, she gave me from the tree, and I ate.” ¹³ Then the LORD God said to the woman, “What is this you have done?” And the woman said, “^aThe serpent deceived me, and I ate.”

¹⁴      The LORD God said to the serpent, 

         “Because you have done this, 

         Cursed are you more than all cattle, 

         And more than every beast of the field; 

         On your belly you will go, 

         And dust you will eat 

         All the days of your life;

¹⁵      And I will put enmity 

         Between you and the woman, 

         And between your seed and her seed; 

         He shall ¹bruise you on the head, 

         And you shall bruise him on the heel.”

¹⁶      To the woman He said, 

         “I will greatly multiply 

         Your pain ¹in childbirth, 

         In pain you will bring forth children; 

         Yet your desire will be for your husband, 

         And he will rule over you.”

¹⁷  Then to Adam He said, “Because you have listened to the voice of your wife, and have eaten from the tree about which I commanded you, saying, ‘You shall not eat from it’; 

         Cursed is the ground because of you; 

         In ¹toil you will eat of it 

         All the days of your life.

¹⁸      Both thorns and thistles it shall grow for you; 

         And you will eat the plants of the field;

¹⁹      By the sweat of your face 

         You will eat bread, 

         Till you return to the ground, 

         Because from it you were taken; 

         For you are dust, 

         And to dust you shall return.”