Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Somewhere Over the Hanukkah Rainbow


Hanukkah is early this year, making my inter-cultural holiday keeping somewhat complicated. For instance, I hold a monthly Shabbat service on the third Friday of each month in my congregation to teach the church about the Jewish roots of our faith. December would naturally be the time to share about Hanukkah. Three years ago I gathered a cast and we did the Hanukkah play that I had written and done with my grandchildren some years before. It now included Judah Maccabee wielding a Star Wars light saber to drive nasty Antiochus out of the Temple. Afterwards, we feasted on sufganiote which is Hebrew for jelly donuts which for some reason are traditional for Hanukkah. I think it has to do with the oil they are fried in. One year I flew to Israel during Hanukkah and the El Al ticket counter had a HUGE plate of sufganiote for all to share. Yum.

This year, Hanukkah being early, starts at sundown on December 1st and ends eight days later. Therefore, Hanukkah will be over by the third Friday of December when our Second Annual Hanukkah Talent Show will take place. Not to worry, the spirit is always there. And so will the jelly donuts.

Last year I had this idea to expand the play to whatever wonderful talents others have. It was a raving success and so we are now preparing for the Second Annual. The diversity of skits, songs and whatevers reveal the creativity among us. This year The Women's Bible Study Choir will be singing a rewritten rendition of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" relating said place to heaven where troubles will have long since melted away like lemon drops, and a reading of The Night Before Hanukkah will, no doubt, enthrall the hearts of all. Plus we do have some beautiful voices who will surely move at least some of us to tears with the meaningful songs they will be singing. Whether silly or serious, the joy of the Lord will undoubtedly fill our hearts.

Hanukkah is the time to celebrate how God kept the light in the Temple menorah lit for eight days on only one day's worth of oil while they made more. Yeshua (Jesus) observed Hanukkah. John 10:22-39 records Him having been at the Temple for the winter occasion. Since He is the Light of the world, as I light my candles each night of Hanukkah, I light them in recognition that He is the Light of my own life and that in so many ways, life is a giant talent show for which He is the Supreme Director and Producer and it is His joy that floods it all. Happy Hanukkah to you, each and every one, Jewish or not. The Light of the World is available to everyone. May His light be your light always.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Saving A Marine on Veteran's Day



It's Veteran's Day. November 11, 2010. My neighbor, Patrick, called to tell me a very drunk Marine in full dress uniform was asleep on my doorstep. Patrick tried to get him up. Couldn’t. Tried to call our neighborhood Security. Couldn’t get through. He called me to tell me, suggesting I might want to call 911. I looked out the window and sure enough there was the Marine in full dress uniform. Now he was sitting in the rocking chair that I fished out of the trash a while back and painted blue, his uniform an almost matching color, his eyes closed, rocking ever so slightly.

Lord, what do you want me to do? No sense of alarm. Peace. I knew the Lord was in this. I stepped out the door and quietly said, "Soldier," not to frighten him. He managed to lift his eye lids and look at me briefly. It was obvious he was still pretty drunk. "Are you okay?" He answered very quietly and with some difficulty, "Yes ma'am." He did ask me not to call the police. I assured him I wasn't going to and said, "If God brought you to my doorstep it’s for a reason. He evidently is reaching out to you." He just licked his lips like he was dry and continued rocking, eyes staring blankly ahead. No he didn't want any water. And no he didn't want a cup of coffee. He had no idea where he was or, "worse yet," he said, he didn't know how he got there. Angels, I expect, had hand delivered him to me.

I managed to find out he had joined the Marines at 18 and was now 30 and had returned from Iraq recently. I asked him if anyone had ever told him that God loves him and has a plan for his life? "The Lord saved me when I was five," he said. So where are you with the Lord now? I asked. Well, when he joined the Marines, he somehow lost touch with Jesus, it appears. I asked him if he wanted to get right with Him now. It's obvious, I told him, that the Lord wants you to know that He has you on His radar screen and that He knows exactly where you are and He's protecting you, or He wouldn't have brought you to my doorstep.

"Is it bad if I don't want to pray out loud?" he asked me. No, it's not bad, I told him. If you want to pray inside yourself and talk to Him, it's Him you need to talk to, not me. You can just tell Him, "Jesus, forgive my sins. Here's my life." He sat staring for a few more minutes, and I could see a battle going on inside of him. Then he stopped rocking and closed his eyes and sat completely still for a few minutes. Then looked up at me briefly, and I knew he'd just given his heart back to Jesus. When I asked him if he had, as it was obvious it would have been hard for him to say it, he responded again with, "Yes, Ma'am." I said, "Welcome home, J., to the Lord." I offered him my hand and for the first time he looked right at me as he took my hand and held it for a few seconds and I saw the person he is, not just a lost and drunk Marine.

Then I said, I know you've been trained to not show emotions, but I see an awful lot going on in your eyes. What's happening, J? At this he managed to whisper, "I miss my grandpa." He had died recently, he told me. He had told his grandpa about Jesus when he was eleven years old, but he doesn't know if he recieved the Lord or not and he was scared. I assured him he would have to leave that in Jesus' hands, but the important thing today was that he had put his own life into Jesus' hands.

He had called a buddy to come and get him, handing me the phone to tell the buddy, David, where he was. When David arrived, J managed to stand up. I was surprised to see how tall he was. He further surprised me by turning to me and hugging me and saying, "Thank you, Ma'am." I walked him to the car and handed him over to David, as a new man, even if he was still a bit wobbly. Hopefully, this will be a Veteran's Day he will never forget. Nor will I.