On Birthday Blessings and Old Testament Sacrifices

Another lap around the sun is almost complete, so it’s a good day to count my blessings. The boys came over this past Sunday night to help me celebrate, and they were so excited about the occasion that Levi blurted out what they had gotten me before I opened the gifts. Samuel was just dropping hints, so he’s starting to get how surprises are supposed to work. I guess that’s the difference between a 4-year-old and a 2-year-old. At one point, Sonya told Levi that he had cake on his face, and he said, “I don’t mind.” Too funny.

Every year their parents ask them, “What do you think Papa would like more than anything else in the whole world?” Samuel’s answer this year was a Lego wrecking ball. (Last year it was a Lego steamroller.) Levi’s answer was a pull-string racecar. Nothing could be more special to this birthday boy. Why? Lego contraptions are built together, and racecars that run under their own power are best played with two people. So, that’s what makes this little tradition so wonderful. We get to build things and play together, which is the best kind of celebration.

Believe it or not, the whole thing helps me understand the Old Testament sacrificial system a bit better, especially vis-à-vis the customs of the nations surrounding Israel. Unlike the foreign gods of the ancient Near East, Yahweh does not get hungry or need to be fed (Psalm 50:9-13). Rather, Israel is to “offer thank offerings to God” (Psalm 50:14). For him, it’s all about the relationship with his people. He knows the Israelites will want to give him gifts to express their love to him, so he lets them do so by way of the sacrificial system.

Same with this Papa. I don’t need another trinket in the house, but I absolutely treasure the time spent with my boys. I want to be near them. And—right now, anyway—they want to be near me. Even if I help pay for the gifts they give, as God likewise makes the creatures that get sacrificed back to him, I will enjoy the racecar and wrecking ball more that they will ever know. They even told me what kind of cake I wanted this year (white with white icing and sprinkles), and we were happy to oblige. They were genuinely wanting me to have a special time. And we did.

Other gifts this year included an English/Hebrew Torah, a 2-volume set of Greek New Testament manuscripts, 96 K-cups of Eight O’Clock Dark Italian Espresso, several other theology books, and a whole bunch of clothes and shoes for the upcoming wedding. (I undergrew my black suit, so I needed a new one.) And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. There were so many other cards and gifts, but it was time spent with family that made it all so special.

That and my flowering cherry tree, which fully blossomed today. It was like a little wink from heaven. Yes, I am indeed blessed.

Four Already

Samuel turned four on Monday, and we had a wonderful celebration with him Sunday after church. First, his family and closest friends gathered at Ballocity at the Works entertainment complex in Wyomissing, where the kids exhausted themselves playing in the indoor jungle gym. There were lots of rosy cheeks and tousled hair by the end of our time there. We then drove to his house in Womelsdorf where we enjoyed cake and ice cream, and Samuel got to open his presents. It was heartwarming to watch him share his new toys with his brother and friends.

It was a police officer-themed event, as Samuel is enjoying lights, sirens, and catching bad guys these days. On Monday, his actual birthday, we joined him for lunch at the restaurant of his choosing—Chik-fil-A. They had an indoor playground there, too, which may have been a bigger draw for him than the waffle fries.

I love this little guy so much. In fact, one of the biggest joys in my life these days is to hear him (and his brother) call me “Papa.” He is light years beyond “precious” to my heart. Below are some shots from the day, along with a few other miscellaneous pics from last week.

A day to celebrate Officer Samuel.
“I get the first piece of cake, but who’s going to cut it?”
The cake was … arresting.
Tons o’ fun at Ballocity.
“Here I come!”
Making Thanksgiving cookies–turkeys with orange sprinkles.
After 27 years, we had to get a new tractor. Levi already had his John Deere and wanted to compare.

Samuel’s Song

Yesterday I forbade any reference to—or celebration of—my birthday in the morning. It was the Lord’s Day, not mine. More than that, it was Easter Sunday. I wanted the focus to be completely on Jesus and what he did for us on that most central day in the church calendar. 

My family and church family mostly followed that counsel. During the pre-service church breakfast, somebody started a spontaneous round of “Happy Birthday.” I’m told they just couldn’t help themselves. After breakfast, we went to the sanctuary and had a truly special time of celebrating the resurrection of Christ with a whole lot of people in attendance—more than ever before in our church’s history. But it was moving to be there and rejoice in the empty tomb regardless of how many came.

Fought the fight, the battle won. Alleluia—the line we were singing as my mother-in-law went home to be with the Lord last December. It was tough to sing those beautiful words this year during the Easter service.

Anyway, not to be outdone, Samuel wanted to sing “Happy Birthday” to me, too, and his mommy caught part of his rendition on video. I was charmed, to say the least. We had a nice relaxing birthday celebration with family (and some friends who stopped by) early evening and into the night.

Given the precarious situation involving my conception and delivery, I’m just glad I was ever born at all. And because of Easter, I was born again. 

Thank you, Jesus.

Happy Birthday, Samuel James

Samuel turned two years old today. My heart is filled with joy at all the love and precious moments we’ve shared during these past 24 months. Words fail this writer in describing what this wonderful little boy means to me. If I were to try, I would just short out my keyboard anyway, so I’ll share below the post that Bethany put on Facebook today. We got to see Bubby this evening (after babysitting Levi all day while his parents took Samuel to Tiny Town in Lancaster), and the whole crew is gathering Saturday night for the big bash. We can hardly wait to show (and tell) him how special he is to all of us. Thank you, Lord, for entrusting this amazing little blessing to our family.


Bethany writes:

“How amazing it has been this year to watch Samuel grow and his personality shine. He truly has a kind heart. He’s sensitive, he’s silly. He’s very slow to warm up, but when he does, he’s just so much fun. He’s cautious. He’s caring. He absolutely adores being a big brother. He prefers for everyone to be together. He loves being outside, going on walks, swinging at the park, swimming, helping daddy in the yard. He would eat M&M ice cream and pizza all day every day if you’d let him. And baked beans. And French toast. 

“He is so helpful and eager to do what is asked of him if he knows he’s helping like making breakfast, washing dishes, throwing things away. He has the most amazing memory—I mean, truly incredible. He talks and talks and talks, and I LOVE hearing what he has to say. He’s a little clumsy (but we are his parents, so it was bound to happen). He listens to music as much as humanly possible. He loves dancing, playing his guitar, piano, and drums. He loves water towers, silos, trucks, buses, ambulances, fire trucks, trains—he’s all boy. 

“He has a few stuffed toys; he pretends to put them to sleep and then comes back to check on them. He is obsessed with Christmas. He honestly loves talking about the Bible, Jesus, and church to anyone who will listen. He makes us so proud, happy, tired, and thankful. I love who he is, and we love being his parents. Happy second birthday to our Samuel.”


Amen. 

Micah and Bethany are doing such a great job as parents. Best of all, they’re seeking to teach him about (and live before him) the real Jesus as revealed in the God-breathed good book (2 Timothy 3:16)! There is no other Jesus worth showing him.

💙 💙 💙 💙 💙 💙 💙 💙 💙 💙 💙 💙 💙


Edit

Right after posting these pictures, we ran through the praise and worship songs for this coming Lord’s Day morning, which is the First Sunday of Advent. The first song was Michael Card’s “Immanuel.” I didn’t make it past the first line, as verified by the four wet tissues now on the end table next to me. The song is heart-warming in its own right, but my latest blub-fest probably had to do with the little lullaby Sonya created and sings to Bubby while he’s falling asleep: “Samuel, Emmanuel.” Our lifelong prayer for him—that he would always know and treasure that God is with him.

‘You Don’t Have to Be a Star, Baby, to Be in My Show’

It was Marilyn McCoo and Billy Davis Jr. who sang that line, “You don’t have to be a star, baby, to be in my show.” It’s a good thing, too, or I’d be up the creek without a microphone. Indeed, I discovered last night that the best way to kill a classic is for me to sing it. But, oh, the “song-icide” can be so much fun. 

We’ll be hosting a birthday party for our son this weekend, and the main activity is a karaoke event with his friends. Last night he came over, and we set up the equipment in our family room to test it and make sure it all works. One thing led to another, so for nearly three hours we added song after song to the queue, and we sang ourselves raspy over the course of the night. My selections included:

  • “Bohemian Rhapsody” (Queen)
  • “My Heart Will Go On” (Celine Dion)
  • “Theme from the Brady Bunch” (Sherwood Schwartz)
  • “Footloose” (Kenny Loggins)
  • “New York, New York” (Frank Sinatra)
  • “Y.M.C.A.” (Village People)
  • “Climb Every Mountain” (The Sound of Music)
  • “Kiss the Girl” and “Part of Your World” (The Little Mermaid)
  • “Somewhere in the Night” (Barry Manilow)
  • “I Will Always Love You” (Whitney Houston)
  • “Scenes from an Italian Restaurant” (Billy Joel)

And that’s just the tip of the iceburg of all the songs we attempted. Worse than my singing was the misguided attempt (by me) to dance during “Footloose.” All digital evidence of the spectacle has been destroyed. But the funniest moment was injecting Scuttle’s throaty little descant into “Kiss the Girl.” I may have ruptured something laughing at myself.

I didn’t realize how much fun karaoke could be, or how much I needed to blow off a little steam after the crazy schedule I’ve been keeping lately (not to mention the awfulness of the pandemic year). As King Solomon once said, “A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones” (Prov 17:22). 

All my life I’ve wanted to be a singer in the worst possible way. I can finally say that I’ve reached my goal.

Image Credits: CuteWallpaper.org

Not Quite Home on the Range Yet

Last night I sinned. Multiple times. My son and son-in-law were with me at the time. They sinned, too, and we all had a great time doing it. Let me explain. We were celebrating my son-in-law’s birthday, so we went to a shooting range before dinner, cake, and gift giving. It’s something Micah enjoys, though he doesn’t have a lot of opportunity to do it, so we surprised him with a round at Enck’s Gun Barn. My son Drew also has more experience than I do in this area, making me the rookie of the bunch. 

I’ve shot pistols before, but only a few times in the distant past and only at Coke cans set up in the woods near my brother-in-law’s house in North Carolina. Last night we used a rifle—a Ruger AR-556, which is considerably louder than a pistol, though the kickback isn’t bad at all. Given my lack of experience, I was hoping to just get my shots on the paper target!

I didn’t get a bullseye this time, but all my shots were inside the 8 and 9 rings, and one even nicked the center circle. Not bad for a beginner. But all three of us kept missing the mark, which is one of the biblical metaphors for sin. There are many other images, too, but this one is prominent.

Judges 20:15-16 says, “At once the Benjamites mobilized twenty-six thousand swordsmen from their towns, in addition to seven hundred chosen men from those living in Gibeah. Among all these soldiers there were seven hundred chosen men who were left-handed, each of whom could sling a stone at a hair and not miss [ḥǎṭṭāʾṯ].”

The word ḥǎṭṭāʾṯ is a general word for sin, usually having the sense of missing the mark, going astray, offending, or ignoring something required by God’s law (e.g., Gen 40:1; Jdgs 20:16; Neh 13:26; etc.). It can also mean “sin offering” (e.g., Exod 29:4).

King David prays in Psalm 51:2, “Cleanse me [ṭāhēr] from my sin [ḥǎṭṭāʾṯ].” The word ṭāhēr means to “be clean,” “cleanse,” “purify,” or “pronounce clean,” as from a defiling condition. It can have a ritual context (e.g., Lev 11:32), or it can refer to the actual cleansing of impurities (e.g., Naaman’s leprosy in 2 Kgs 5:10). 

It can also refer to the removal of impurities from metal (e.g., refined gold and silver in Mal 3:3). Therefore, the word does not necessarily have a sacramental connotation (contra Goldingay, etc.) or even a ceremonial connotation (contra Wilson, the ESV Study Bible, etc.). Indeed, David’s hope of forgiveness rests on nothing ceremonial (cf. vv. 16-17). The sense of his prayer in v. 2 is, “Purify me from my defiling sin.”

Because of his mercy, grace, and compassion (Ps 51:1), God can certainly do that. And because David came to him humbly, he did. “The Lord has taken away your sin,” said Nathan the prophet. You are not going to die” (2 Sam 12:13-14). David later wrote, “Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven” (Ps 32:1).

Interestingly enough, all three of us last night were landing our initial shots low and to the right of the bullseye. That would seem to suggest a sighting issue on the gun. Our Range Safety Officer (RSO) helped us make the necessary adjustments to shoot more accurately. He also helped me with my stance and positioning vis-à-vis the target. He was patient, kind, and supportive, not condescending at all toward this novice.

Probably my biggest challenge as a shooter is the fact that I’m left-eye dominant trying to shoot from a right hander’s position. My impulse, then, is to use my left eye to align the sights, but that doesn’t work when you’re pressing your right cheek to the gun stock. Here again, the RSO was perceptive and gave me some suggestions to help me “not sin.”

Our night at the range caused me to think about the fact that we’re in this spiritual journey together. “All have sinned and come short of the glory of God” (Rom 3:23), which is why judging and condescension are out of place in the Christian life. Smug self-righteousness is just a way to justify our anger at other people because they sin differently than we do.

Our natural misalignments and daily temptations to “miss the mark” don’t go away when others scold us, humiliate us, or impose their asceticisms on us (Col 2:21-23). They tend to dissipate when those with a little more experience help us learn how to aim higher. 

We are pilgrims on a journey
We are brothers on the road
We are here to help each other

Walk the mile and bear the load

The RSO actually showed me last night how to be a better pastor. Lord knows, I need ongoing training.

Image Credits: pexels.com; nationalinterest.org; aurrpc.com.