The Finish of Moses

We often wrestle with failure, either present or past. Failure, whether actual or apparent, when viewed through the lens of faith, isn’t failure at all if done as unto the Lord, in faith (Ro. 14:23).

Moses failed. He failed as a prince of Egypt. He failed as a fledgling Hebrew leader, killing an Egyptian and fleeing for his life. He failed as a father and husband, “truly you are a bridegroom of blood to me” (Ex. 4:25).

He wrestled as a shepherd. He wrestled with calling. He wrestled as a leader. He wrestled with obedience. He wrestled with death. He wrestled with promise.

Failure seems final. It is not. Wrestling seems disobedient. It is not. Death seems an end. It is not.

When Moses failed, the failure was due to the direction of his intent. Himself. When he wrestled, it was with the object of his faith. God.

God recorded Moses’ failures to show his humanity; He revealed his wrestling to show his heart.

In the end, Moses did not fail (Ro. 8:28). No, he finished (II Tim. 4:7). Moses, as Jacob before him, wrestled with many failures and with God, and he was delivered.

When Yeshua/Jesus stood face to face with Moses on the Mount of Transfiguration (Matt. 17:1-8) the entire flow of his life came to fruition in the face of Yeshua, finally seeing the face he longed to see (Ex. 33:18-20), and perhaps there he heard, “Well done, good and faithful servant, before you is the delight of your Lord” (Ps. 37:4; Matt. 3:17).

Unfortunately, Moses in Christian theology finds his finish, his end, in Deuteronomy 34. His finish, the end of his race, his “well done” moment, was in the presence and face of Yeshua in Matthew 17.

Could there be any better finish?

Abide in Yeshua, and He will abide in you (Jn. 15:4-11). There the crooked ways will be straightened, the wrongs righted, all things worked together for our good, to His glory.

Be well. Shalom.

Passover Meditation #3

When is it dayenu?

The Passover Seder is a generational event; not only with those present, but with those who were, and those who are yet to be. It’s just that type of moment in time. The text itself leads us to believe this.

One of the most recognizable elements of the Seder is the singing of דַּיֵּנוּ/dayenu. While only a couple stanzas of this section are usually sung, in total, there are fifteen stanzas. Five stanzas speak of the deliverance from Egypt, the next five of the miraculous provision in the wilderness, and the final five of being with God.

The melody of dayenu is memorable, haunting, exciting. When done with heart and spirit it lifts us beyond our present circumstance into an unlikely place: contentment.

The apostle Paul wrote, “Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need” (Phil. 4:11-12).

Paul’s thoughts here always remind me of dayenu. דַּיֵּנוּ/dayenu literally translates: enough for us. The usual construction of the stanzas flow in this manner:

“If He had taken us out of Egypt and not made judgements on them; [it would have been] enough for us.”

“If this … but not this … דַּיֵּנוּ/dayenu.”

Paul is sitting in a cell; yet, he speaks of being content with his circumstance. It is a recognition of the Lord’s will, even in the midst of terrific hardship, but it is also guards against the loss of joy.

The heart of dayenu is joyfully recognizing the grace of God’s provision. Every year we sing dayenu – “enough for us” – with an immediate memory of all that is pressing in on us: the present Egypt. Yet, dayenu.

For Paul, his dayenu might have sounded something like: “Had He saved me by the blood of Yeshua/Jesus, but not delivered me from this cell, dayenu.”

It is a difficult lesson, perhaps among the most painful, but the Lord has given us a yearly exercise to help us strengthen our present dayenu, to reflect on the grace of His supply, however that might appear.

But when is it enough? Watch this.

“Philip said to Him, “Lord, show us the Father, and it is sufficient for us” (Jn. 14:8).

On the evening of Messiah’s Seder, Philip says, show us the Father, and it will be “dayenu,” as dayenu is also translated as “sufficient.” How does Yeshua respond?

“Jesus said to him, “Have I been with you so long, and yet you have not known Me, Philip? He who has seen Me has seen the Father,” (Jn. 14:9).

When it is dayenu, enough for us? When we know, and are known, by Yeshua. That is enough for all eternity.

Be well. Shalom.

The Ones We Embrace

Who knew that a “thumbs up” would become one of the most recognizable of international hieroglyphs.

Never before has humanity been able to say so much with so little: enter the emoticons. With these little symbols we are able to communicate the vast range and subtlety of human emotion, evaluate our interest, announce our disdain or pleasure.

Imagine, if you will, that we applied the emoticon to actual life circumstances: walking down the street I give a thumbs up to show approval for someone eating their lunch; or I displayed a red frowny face when overhearing a conversation in passing; or, I hugged myself when hearing something nice, or eat something yummy.

I would surely gain more followers: some police officers, maybe an investigator or two, perhaps even a therapist. Not at all pleasant.

How has emoticon shorthand changed relationships? Perhaps a question best answered by social anthropologists. Still, as a shepherd, I do have some thoughts.

The Lord said of Abraham:

אַבְרָהָם אֹהֲבִֽי

Recorded in Isaiah 41:8, these two Hebrew words are often translated as “Abraham my friend,” slightly differently, “Abraham my beloved,” or a little deeper, “Abraham whom I embrace.” The word translated friend above is אָהַב/ahav, meaning to love, desire, breathe after, beloved, or friend.

The Torah says that Abraham “walked with God” (Gen. 17:1). Abraham had relationship with the Lord. They walked, talked, interacted, and lived together; apart from emoticons: real, personal emotion and intimacy.

Social media was already radically changing human relationships. Now, coupled with a pandemic (at the time of this writing), many of our relationships have been reduced to emoticons, text messages, or socially distant interaction. It has rekindled, in many of us, a strong desire for the closeness of a handshake, a friendly embrace, and crowded congregational fellowship.

In the gospel of John, 15:12-17, Yeshua/Jesus calls us friends, those He embraces, just as the Father called Abraham His friend. As our Emmanuel, Yeshua is ever-present with us (Matt. 28:20), in living relationship.

When speaking these words, Yeshua was reclining with the disciples at the Passover Meal: close, sharing food, remembering the exodus, teaching, communing over the bread and cup, creating the embrace of friendship; and real emotion as the disciples wondered who would betray Him (Jn. 13:25-26).

Emoticon approval, in most cases, keeps a distance between us. Yet, in so many other instances, they introduce a door to deeper communication leading to a real embrace, a real friendship; with living faces, living emotions, and living experience of the human dynamic in friendship.

While social media has a place in modern society, it cannot, and should not replace living, breathing social interaction. And what many of us are most certain of: it will not.

Be well. Shalom.