I Am Joseph – Part 2

Read Part 1 here.

I’m not exactly sure how marriage works in your culture, but in our culture, it is a year long process.  At least.  That in itself is not easy for an 18 year old.  I mean, I have needs!  But anyway, back to the marriage.  There are two stages in a Jewish marriage and the first stage is the betrothal period.  This begins when my father would go throughout the town and surrounding towns and find me a young girl, usually about 11 years old, who would be my wife.  I remember the day that it all happened.  I was outside in the shop working on a chair for some neighbors when my dad burst into the house.

“Joseph!  Joseph!” he yelled.  “I’ve found her!  And son, you will love her.  She is beautiful.”  Well you can imagine my excitement, and my nervousness.  I mean, I trust my dad, but you know – seeing is believing.  As it turned out, she was from Nazareth, too, so later on that night I went out for a walk.  Now I knew that I couldn’t be alone with her yet – heck, I really wasn’t even supposed to be in her presence yet, but I went out looking for her house anyway.  I just wanted to see her.  And so I crept around through the courtyard and eventually found her home and I waited there until I got one good look.  I was not disappointed.  She was beautiful.  In fact, I must confess, all I could do when I saw her was to think back to the Song of Solomon – you know the parts I mean.

The next morning the marriage preparations were in full swing and about a week later we had our first ceremony.  Now this was not the official marriage ceremony, it was more like a pre-nuptial ceremony.  This would officially begin Mary and I’s life together.  Even though after this ceremony we would be called “husband” and “wife”, we still couldn’t, you know, be together.  In fact, the best we could do is spend a little time alone together at my dad’s house.  I remember that day well – the rabbi was there and my dad gave the traditional gift of livestock to Mary’s family to unite our families.  Her father gave us some money that we could use to start our family in about a year, and then it was time for me to give my gift to her.  Through the giving of my gift, I would symbolize my commitment to our relationship.  I didn’t know what to give to her.  I thought about when my forefather Isaac gave expensive clothes and jewels to Rebekkah to begin their marriage.  I sure couldn’t do that – I mean, who was I?  Just the son of the local carpenter.  So I did what I do best – I made her something.  It was a little plaque to put over our doorposts that had the shema written on it, and I decorated it with some ornate wood on the sides and it looked pretty good.  She seemed to like it anyway.  I just wanted her to know that I was going to base our marriage on the law of the Lord from the very start.

And then it was done.  We were married legally.  In fact, at that point I had legal rights over Mary.  The only way that our betrothal could be broken was by divorce, but you never think about that right after your marriage begins.  For the first couple of weeks, things were great.  Mary and I would spend time together almost every night.  We would talk about our lives and our future.  We would talk about the carpentry shop and how we might even someday try to save up enough money to open up a second store.  Imagine me, Joseph, a chain!  We were getting along so well so you can imagine my surprise when I decided to stop by her father’s house on the way to work one morning.  Her father opened the door like he was surprised to see me.  We exchanged pleasantries, but there was something wrong in his voice.  I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it was like he almost felt ashamed.  He wouldn’t look me in the eye and he acted very hurried in our conversation.  And then he told me that Mary had left early that morning for her cousin’s house up in the hill country.  I tried to get him to tell me why she left so quickly and without telling me herself, but I couldn’t get anything out of him.  All he would tell me was that it was important for her to go away and that she would be gone for 3 months.

As he shut the door, I stood on the porch in disbelief.  Was Mary sick?  Was Elizabeth, her cousin, sick?  What was going on?  So there I was with nothing to do except wait.  So I waited, and I waited.  There was no news.  Mary’s father stopped opening the door when I came to ask about her.  No one in town knew anything.  Everyday I would get up and go to the shop and try to concentrate on work, but how can you do that?  My wife was somewhere in Judea, not sure exactly where and not sure exactly why.  Three months is a long time.  It was a long time of wondering and thinking, and of trying not to be angry.  Those months are just kind of a blur now – work and home, work and home, work and home.  Some days I was angry, some days I was hurt, but by the time it was over, all I could think of was how much I just wanted her to come home.  And then she did…

I am Joseph – Part 1

You may or may not know that I have a 5-year-old son.  His name in English is Joshua; the Greek translation is Jesus.  Both of those sound pretty good, but I think I like best of all the sound of the original Hebrew name: Yeshua.  Yeshua does pretty much the same things that all 5-year-olds do.  He likes to run and jump and play.  He makes silly noises that sound like bodily functions.  He likes to be tickled.  And I know that every father thinks that his kid is the best, but Yeshua really is.  I’m just so proud of him – and I know that he is going to do great things in life.

Of course he is going to do great things in life – look who his mother is!  I wish all of you could know my wife and what an extraordinary woman she is.  She is beautiful and patient.  She loves her God more than anyone I have ever known.  She loves her family and is fiercely protective of them, and she is a wonderful mother.  There’s so much that goes into having children, and she remarkably handles every piece of it.

And I never get over the fact that she loves me.  She makes me feel important.  She makes me feel important when we’re never going to be rich.  I mean, I have an okay job, and I can put food on the table, but our life will never be extravagant.  We will always live pretty much hand to mouth.  And I’m not a really important person in the community and I never will be.  But overall, I would say that we are a very happy family.  I know that none of this sounds very extraordinary or amazing in any way, and to be honest, it’s not.  It’s only amazing when you know the way that our family started.

What I have told you about us up to this point, many of you probably already know.  Great wife, wonderful child, that’s all very clear just from observation.  But what you may not know is that my wife was actually pregnant before we got married.  Yeah, I know, you never would have guessed it looking at us, but it’s true.  So now you know – we are not the perfectly righteous, completely obedient, wonderful Jewish couple that we appear to be.  But I’m asking you to reserve judgment until you hear the whole story…

Fridays Are For One Question

For me, it was Castle Greyskull. The Christmas morning I woke up and He-Man’s center of operations sitting under the tree was perhaps the most memorable Christmas morning I had as a kid. That’s what the question today is about, the first in a series of Christmas-related Friday questions:

“As a child, what was the greatest, bestest, most unbelievable toy you received on Christmas morning?”

**The goal of “One Question Friday” is simple: To show that everyone has something funny, engaging, creative, and worthwhile to say. So comment away! Be real. Be creative. Think hard. And check back to see how others answered the question.

His Name Shall Be Called…

There she was. A 14-year-old girl, sitting – or maybe kneeling – face to face with an angel. And she had just heard the most incredible news. She was going to be a mom.

But she was confused. She knew the dynamics, birds and bees and whatnot. So she was right to ask, “How can this be?”

Then the words came back…

“You will be overshadowed by the Almighty…”
“God will be the Father…”
“The child will be called the Son of God…”
“And His name will be…”

Yes! The name! This was the great part. In her culture, the name was everything. It would be a symbol of the child’s essence, a one-word description of the essential nature of His character. So she held her breath a little bit, wondering what this miracle child would be called.

“His name will be… Jesus.”

Really? Jesus? It was a great name to be sure, and it had a great meaning – The Lord is Salvation. It was just a little, well, a little ordinary. Half the kids in Hebrew school would be named Jesus. It would be the equivalent of being named “John” or “Joe” in this century. It just felt… common.

Maybe it should be Maximus. Or just straight Caeser. Something regal. Something befitting a child of this magnitude. Not Joe.

But that’s how God works, isn’t it? Think about it – He infuses the ordinary with the extraordinary; the common with the uncommon. This child, who would not be extraordinarily tall, or handsome, or athletic, who would seem ordinary, is completely unique. And this child would be born into the most common of circumstances, a manger with everyday animals looking on, to completely ordinary parents, would redeem the world. Jesus comes into the ordinary and makes it extraordinary.

And He’s still doing it. He came into me, and into you, the most common of people, and made us uncommon. He made us children of God. And in this ordinary day in Nashville, He will enter in and make hundreds of common moments uncommon.

Jesus it is. The name fits.

Steven Seagal: Lawman

I thought this was a joke until I heard Steven say: “It’s not a joke.”

Apparently, it’s not a joke. And according to Seagal, it’s not a job either: “It’s an adventure.”

I present to you the depths to which reality tv has fallen: Steven Seagal: Lawman.

Tim Keller Profile

If you haven’t ever heard or read Tim Keller, let me encourage you to do so. He’s the pastor of Redeemer Presbyterian Church in New York City, and he’s been doing ministry there in a missional fashion before it was even cool to say “missional.”

But here’s the thing about Keller: In a landscape of church-planters wearing black glasses, tight t-shirts, and tribal tattoos, Keller is… well… boring. He’s bald. He’s pretty old. He wears suits and ties. If you go to his church, you’d encounter classical music and a choir.

But New Yorkers (and folks across the evangelical world for that matter) are flocking to him. So mysterious is his appeal that New York Magazine ran this profile about him. Here’s an excerpt:

Keller is a 59-year-old bald, large-framed man, dressed today in a blue blazer and gray slacks. For those expecting hellfire and brimstone, the first surprise is the voice. Keller doesn’t speak in theatrical, over-the-top tones but in a soft, conversational manner, as if he’s sharing a confidence with a friend. For today’s sermon on a passage from the Old Testament Book of Habakkuk, in which a minor Jewish prophet rails about the misery brought on by the Babylonians in the seventh century B.C., Keller jumps to the recession and what he sees as shameful finger-pointing by both liberals and conservatives. “The Bible doesn’t let you do that,” Keller intones from the pulpit. “The Bible is nowhere near as simplistic, dare I say it, as either the New York Times’ or The Wall Street Journal’seditorial page. You can write that down. Put it on your blog, I don’t care.”

Read more: Why Are So Many New Yorkers Flocking to Evangelical Christian Preacher Tim Keller? — New York Magazine http://nymag.com/news/features/62374/#ixzz0YRnrObK5

(HT: Z)

You Can’t Be “A Little Bad”

Joshua and I were playing action figures, and he kept insisting on being the bad guys. Jana alerted me to this trend, and we’ve been curious about his shift from good guy to bad guy.

Apparently it’s all about the weapons.

Which is comforting in a sense, but nevertheless made me wish that he wanted to be the good guy only. So both Jana and I tried to gently push him that direction. Then he came back with, “You know what’s the best? The best is if you’re just a little bad.”

I get that, especially since to a 5-year-old it means that you can still be the hero and yet have an awesome gun. So you get the best of both worlds.

But isn’t this how most people in the world, even the “good” ones, approach matters of spirituality? Even those of us that call ourselves Christians try to be mostly good and entertain just a very little bit of bad. One of the most striking places this world view is blown apart is in the writings of John the beloved disciple.

Have you ever noticed how black and white it is with John? Everything is either light or dark. It’s truth or lie. It’s death or life. No middle ground at all. He’s constantly saying that the light has no part with the darkness. Or that the truth has no place in a liar. For John, there’s no such thing as “dawn” or “dusk.” There’s only light or dark, all or nothing.

So where does that leave us, the people who want to be mostly good and just a little bad?

This same John, for which there is no middle ground, is the one who recorded in John 3 the words of Jesus, that we must all be “born again.” And for John, either you are or you aren’t. The first time you were born, you were bad. Oh, you might have moments when you stumbled into goodness just like an occasional star might temporarily light up the night a bit, but the darkness is still overpoweringly present.

But the second time? Well, that birth is of the spirit. And the second time, we came out good. Because the second time, we got the goodness of the One who was all good and no bad.

For those of us who want to be just a little bad, we would do well to be careful with what we want. Perhaps we are more bad than we think we are. Either that, or we need to remember that we’re good because of Jesus. And we need to quit pretending we’re something we’re not.

Weekends Are For Kids

The day started off with a bang around here.

With Thanksgiving over, we set about ringing in the Christmas season. And we love Christmas.

L-O-V-E Christmas.

So we hauled out the tree, added some lights and a snowman to the house, and listened to Christmas music all morning. Joshua started feeling pretty sluggish, and by 12:30 he was sleeping on the couch under a blanket.

1:15 rolled around and you guessed it – he woke up with fever. So off to the hospital we go.

And if I could vent here for just a moment. We moved into a house built in 1957 about a year and a half ago, and we love it. It’s a great house in a greater neighborhood. But moving in, we got a home warranty protection from America’s First Warranty cause we knew some stuff would break.

Well, last Friday night the heater went out. It was blowing, but it was blowing cool air. So we called the warranty company on Saturday morning. We didn’t hear anything back until Monday, when we learned that apparently they “misplaced” the work order. A technician came out on Monday and said they had to order a part for the heater.

Tuesday came and no part.

Wednesday no part.

Thursday was Thanksgiving.

Friday, no part.

This morning they told me it would be Monday before they could come. That’s 9 days without heat. Now I know I don’t have much to complain about given our status in the world at large, but man – I am upset. I can’t help but think that going 9 days without heat might have contributed to my son going to the hospital. As you might imagine, I’ve had several really fun conversations with the company already today, none of which have been close to satisfying to me, especially since this is the 4th service call we’ve made about the heating / AC unit in the last year.

So any chance there’s a high level exec from America’s First reading our blog? If so, boy – I’d love to grab about 10 minutes of conversation with you.

Hopefully Joshua won’t have to stay overnight. We’ll keep the blog updated…

Fridays Are For One Question

Thanksgiving is a great time to reflect about who God is and what He has been faithful to do in yet another year of our lives. It’s also a great time to eat. So rather than going with the standard “What are you thankful for this year?” question, let’s talk about food.

“What did you eat this week that knocked your socks off?”

**The goal of “One Question Friday” is simple: To show that everyone has something funny, engaging, creative, and worthwhile to say. So comment away! Be real. Be creative. Think hard. And check back to see how others answered the question.

Happy Thanksgiving from the Swedish Chef