Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts

Saturday, July 12, 2025

Sabbath Saturday

 Already this morning I have made a list :-) and swept and...

reserved a U-Haul truck for emptying the Holly house on Monday before the closing on TUESDAY!

The light at the end of the tunnel is now almost discernible.

Still having anxiety but it is less. 

I have started making dates with old friends and new.

Plans for the future.

Writing more is one of the plans. 

So in line with my WRITING NOTE Sabbath Saturday, here is a sermon.



"Balak" 

First presented July 19, 2019 as a Drash on Balak by Lisa Hodge Kander

The Parshah this week is Balak. It’s in Numbers 22:2-25:9. I like it. 

One of my favorite verses is found in this week’s Haftarah: Micah 6:8: 

He has told you, O Man, what is good,/ And what the Lord requires of you: /Only to do justice /And to love goodness, And to walk modestly with your God…

Another verse, this one in the parshah itself, inspires one of my favorite songs for the morning liturgy:

Mah tovu ohalecha, Yaakov/ ohalecha, Yaakov / mishk’notecha, Yisrael 

“How beautiful are your tents, Jacob! Your dwelling places, O Israel!”

Good stuff, that. However, I like the Parshah text, in the Torah. I like it even though Rabbi Danielle Leshaw calls it “The Worst Torah Portion.” Sure, it has some problematic parts- I will get to those. 

But, bottom line,  I like it because it’s a story, and honestly, I think it’s funny!

You are familiar, no doubt, with the story of Balaam. The people of Israel, in their travels to the Promised Land, have camped out in the plains of Moab. You’ve read all the “begats” so it won’t surprise you that, with all  that begetting going on, there are A LOT OF ISRAELITES! So many, and they’ve recently beaten up on the Amorites, so Balak, the King of Moab, is getting nervous. He says to his councilors: 'Now will this multitude lick up all that is round about us, as the ox licketh up the grass of the field.'

“They’re going to grab up all of our resources!” Like those hordes of migrants do, right? (This is said sarcastically.)

So Balak, King of Moab, sends his guys to Balaam, who is – well, sort of like a wizard. Apparently Balaam’s blessings and curses always come true. Balak’s guys are to ask Balaam to curse the Israelites, because: he whom thou blessest is blessed, and he whom thou cursest is cursed. “If you curse them,” says Balak, “then I will be able to defeat them for sure!” 

Flatterer! 

Now, the seer/ wizard Balaam gets a bad rap from the rabbis, and I really don’t see why. Because he never says he’s going to do what Balak asks. Balaam checks in with God every time. The first time he is sent for, he tells the messengers, “Stay the night, I’ll see if God speaks to me tonight.” God does speak to him, and tells Balaam not to go. So Balaam says he won’t go, because God said no.

Balak’s guys go back to Balak, tell him, “Sorry, Boss, Balaam says he won’t go.” They leave out the part about Balaam says it’s God’s decision. Balak sends more guys, his best guys, to try again. With bribes. Balaam says, “Even if the king gave me his whole palace full of gold, I still won’t go against what God says.” Still, Balaam says, “Spend the night. We’ll sleep on it. I’ll let you know what God says in the morning.”

This time, God relents. “Okay, fine, Balaam. Go with the guys. BUT only say what I tell you to say.”

Again, I want to point out, Balaam follows God’s instructions. I don’t know what the rabbis have against this guy, really. Unless it’s the animal cruelty. 

Balaam sets out, with Balak’s best guys, to meet up with Balak and check out the Israelite situation. Balaam is riding his faithful friend, his trusty she-ass (I am not making this up, it says it right in the text). God, for whatever reason, has decided to be contrary and sends an angel with a flaming sword to block the way. 

This is one of the problematic bits—God just told Balaam to go, for goodness sake!

Also, only the donkey can see the angel. Because it’s funnier that way.

Maybe there’s another reason, but please, imagine this:

Donkey sees angel. Donkey plants feet and refuses to budge. (Apparently, donkeys can be mulish in this way.) Balaam, seeing nothing, gets mad and smacks the donkey. They start to go around; the angel moves to block. Donkey tries to squeeze away from angel and squishes Balaam’s foot against a fence. Balaam, seeing nothing, gets mad and smacks the donkey. They start to go around; the angel moves to block. Donkey, seeing no way around, lays down and refuses to budge. Balaam, seeing nothing, gets mad and smacks the donkey. 

You’re seeing this, right? It’s comedy gold.

Balaam is furious. So now, God allows the donkey to say what is on her mind.

“Ow! Dude! Why do you keep hitting me?”

(It’s pretty close to that. I may have updated the language a bit.)

Balaam says, “You made me look like a jackass! If I had gun, I’d have shot you!”

Or words to that effect. I’m working with a translation here.

Anyway, the she-ass says, “Look, have I ever done anything like this before? So, you know, maybe there might be a reason?” And Balaam is forced to confess, no, she’s never acted this way before.

Also, Balaam does not react at all to a talking donkey. Just part of a wizard’s day, I guess.

Then—poof! – God lets Balaam see the angel—and doesn’t Balaam feel like a jackass NOW! I can just hear the donkey saying, “NOW do you get it?”

The angel asks Balaam why he was beating the poor donkey? “She saw me and kept you away from me,” the angel says, “if she’d kept going, I would have let her go, but I would have killed you!”

I can just see the donkey hissing “I saved your life, dude!”

Balaam confesses to the angel, “My bad, I totally did not know you were standing in my way. I won’t go if you don’t want me to.”

I will not bother to point out that it is a female donkey, not a straight white male elephant, that can see what is in the way. While the big shots are blind. I won’t even mention it. 

Anyway, the story continues with the angel saying, “Nah, keep going. Just remember to only say what the Divine One tells you to say.”

Balaam meets up with Balak. Balaam repeats he will ONLY say what God gives him to say.

Seriously, why do the rabbis beat up on this guy?

You will no doubt recall that instead of a curse, Balaam speaks a blessing for the people of Israel.

What I hadn’t remembered, until I read over the parshah, is that Balak keeps trying to get Balaam to curse the people – by having Balaam look at the camp from different viewpoints. “Can’t curse from here on Bamoth-baal? Let’s try over here on Pisgah instead! No? How about the peak of Peor?” Balak drags Balaam to three separate locations.

Three is a magical number. Especially for comedy. Now you’re properly set up for the punch line.

So when Balak asks for curses on Israel three times, there are blessings instead, all three times. 

The punchline? Balak blows up at Balaam—and Balaam speaks a final prophecy, which is not only a blessing on Israel, but also a curse on Moab and its king, Balak.

So there. 

If the parshah ended there, that would be great. I can totally argue it as comic relief. 

But no.

The parshah doesn’t end there. 

It continues on to say that in spite of all these blessings, the Israelites start fooling around with Moabite and Midian women, and worshipping idols, and draw down a plague, and some 24,000 people died of the plague. More problematic bits. 

I really wish we had stopped at the talking donkey. 

There are, of course, serious points to be made. Adina Gerver, in her commentary “The Gift of Speech,” quotes Midrash Numbers Rabah which explains that God made all animals mute, because if animals had the power of speech, “they [people] could not subject [animals] and stand over [this]. For this [donkey] was the stupidest of creatures and this [Balaam] was the wisest of the wise, and as soon as she spoke he could not stand before her.’” Gerver goes on to note “Subjugation, in the rabbinic view, is made possible merely by the inability to speak. The donkey’s sudden, surprising voice in this story flips the power dynamic, rendering Balaam powerless in the face of her newfound authority. Speech is a profound expression of power–and the denial of it a crippling means of oppression–around the world.” Gerver draws parallels to suppression of free speech of minorities in today’s world, and the ways that loss of voice is a loss of power.

Rabbi Lisa Edwards, in her commentary “What Are You Looking at But Not Seeing?,” writes “Balak and Balaam demonstrate what they think is good, namely: to fear alien people (in this case, the Israelites); to take up arms against them; to curse them; to use violence against an innocent animal; to punish those who disagree with them; to allow anger to rage out of control; not to listen to advice or information; and to use a God-given talent (blessing and cursing) in the service of murder.” 

This list of what are wrongly thought to be “good actions”—fearing the other, using hate speech, punishing those who disagree with those in power—is far too prevalent these days.

Rabbi Edwards points out that clearly, the donkey, who has served Balaam well, and in this instance saved Balaam’s life, is actually the hero of the piece. God asks us to do the opposite, Rabbi Edwards states, of what Balaam and Balak attempt; we should welcome the stranger, make peace, treat all kindly. Rather than seeking to curse those we fear, we should heed the words of Micah: God asks us “to do justice, And to love goodness, And to walk modestly with your God.”

Rabbi Steven Kushner, in his commentary “Whose Word Is It, Anyway?”, remarks that it’s important to note that Balaam, a noted seer and prophet of his time, is not an Israelite. “In other words, God doesn't speak just to Israelites.” In fact, Kushner notes, since the donkey speaks, it is clear that “it's the message (not the messenger),” that is important. 

In her commentary, “Distance and Proximity,” Julia Appell notes that Balak, in demanding Balaam see the Israelite camp from different viewpoints, may have inadvertently allowed Balaam to see the Israelites as a community, as people. She sees parallels with today’s world: “In order to build connections and wear down hatred we must see others from the appropriate vantage point, one from which we can appreciate their history, their community, and their values.”

In yet another commentary… and another, and another—we can find and illuminate meanings for today and tomorrow. 

Or, we could allow ourselves to laugh. Even Holy Writ could have some lighter moments. 

You know what? I really wish we had stopped at the talking donkey. 


Friday, July 11, 2025

Writing

 I stumbled across a note I wrote myself almost 4 years ago:

WRITING

Memoir Monday

Text Tuesday

Whatever Wednesday 

Thankful Thursday 

Fiction Friday

Sabbath Saturday

...

Not sure why Sunday was not included on that original list.

I will try to think of an alliteration to add for Sunday.

This list was intended to prompt a writing habit. Clearly, it didn't stick then, as I forgot all about it. However, so much has changed in the last four years, maybe it is time to implement this list.

Memoir Monday- I've been using this blog intermittently to record my life events and reflections in these challenging days (weeks/months/years). I want to intentionally seek out glimmers as well as the grief and struggles now. I want to remind myself that there is still beauty, kindness, compassion in the world. See it, speak it, do it!

Text Tuesday was intended (I think, my memory is blurry) to work on a textbook / nonfiction work on theatre- benefits of producing Shakespeare with young people for one example.


Whatever Wednesday as a free writing day.

Thankful Thursday to focus on gratitude.

Fiction Friday to exercise those creative muscles.

Sabbath Saturday- I don't remember if I intended this as a day of rest, or a day for spiritual reflection in my writing.

What shall we do with Sunday? 

Sending Sunday- send a letter or email to a friend or friends?

Selling Sunday- send an article or story out into the world for publication hopes?

Summary Sunday- reflect on and review what I've been reading?



Make a wish. Take a deep breath. Send it out. Plant a seed.


Tuesday, December 9, 2014

Backlog Blog

I got knocked for a loop a few times this year. I've not been keeping up with the blog.

You may have noticed. One post in January. Now this one in December. HOWEVER....

Channukah starts in just one week! I will be returning with my annual "what I'm NOT buying you for Channukah" list in honor of my son-in-law. You can read last year's list starting here. Or go back another year to this one.

Yes, the list is back.

And yes, my Dear Daughter and her Significant Other got married!

Monday, July 15, 2013

Do Stuff, Write About It

“This is how you do it: you sit down at the keyboard and you put one word after another until its done. It's that easy, and that hard.”
Neil Gaiman

It is that easy, and it is that hard.

If I write, every day, I will find that I have things to say.

So I believe.

A few days ago, I did a lot of stuff. I will write some of it down.

Friday was the day we had decided to have family over to celebrate my birthday.*

I got up relatively early. The day before, I had spent a long time cleaning the living room: moving couches and sweeping underneath them, dusting everything, putting away clutter. I'd made a start on the two bedrooms. I made more progress on the bedrooms and kitchen, and then I went out for errands - stopping to get cash to pay my nephews, gas to rack up the Rewards Visits, make some returns of retail therapy merchandise, and then on to pick up nephews.

My nephews did tons of work at my house: they trimmed the lawn (Dear Husband had mowed the day before) and cleaned my car (we had driven dogs to and from the Pet Hotel and fetched Dear Daughter's dog from Dear Almost-Son-In-Law's parents place). The  nephews swept and mopped and cleaned and cleared. Then, before and after they showered- each choosing a bathroom- they cleaned the bathrooms.

I wasn't idle, either. I worked hard on continuing to sort and pitch and recycle the STUFF that I had been clearing and cleaning from the various Convenient Flat Surfaces in bedrooms and on snack bars.

Then I got busy cooking. Even though it was my birthday, I was cooking. Yes I was! Because one of the things I have remembered is that I like to cook for people. So I made my famous macaroni and cheese, steamed broccoli, and had chilled pears and watermelon chunks. I also was about to make a delicious baby spinach and mandarin orange salad- but found that the salad spinach that I had bought JUST THAT DAY was slimed! EW! So Dear Husband was sent out to fetch more salad, while I made my famous herb mayonnaise salad dressing and visited with the first arrivals- Auntie B and Cousin S Lee.

I had bought a Bumpy Cake because I love it and because calories don't count on your birthday (that is my story and I am sticking to it. Besides, I had worked off cake and ice cream with all the housework that day and the day before.) And ice cream. Because it is summertime and because Bumpy Cake loves ice cream.

As it turned out, my mom couldn't help herself, and bought me a Bumpy Cake as well.



An embarrassment of riches. We sent left over Bumpy Cake off with the nephews, because it won't be my birthday forever** and the calories will eventually catch up.

I also made rice and black beans, with shredded cheese, salsa, and sour cream on the side, because nephew M doesn't like cheese, and we couldn't have the poor boy starve, now could we?

Eventually, my mom and my sister and her hubby joined Auntie B and Cousin S Lee; and later son J, his wife J, and my grandson J (we call them J3 from A2, since they are from Ann Arbor) arrived.

Lots of food was eaten by all and we were all delighted watching grandson J discover the delights of delicious pears and it was a good night.

I took Ibuprofen and two senna tablets before bed. I already ached from the housework, and I didn't want to get constipated from the pain killer.

I know, too much information.


* One can never celebrate a birthday often enough. As of this writing, I have celebrated my birthday before (while up North with family and friends), on (at a Tigers baseball game) and after (twice so far) the actual date. I will be celebrating at least once more, as I have a birthday credit at a local fancy-shmancy restaurant. So there!

**Somehow, no matter how many celebrations we manage, the birthday excuse eventually expires. Usually in less than a month.

Monday, July 2, 2007

A beginning



Having been inspired by the keen observations and ready wit of my dear friends and dearer relations, I begin anew to write. This journal will seek to take a look at this new millennium as it begins to take shape.

In my lifetime thus far, I have seen remarkable changes in communication. Once, most homes had a single telephone (INSTRUMENT-- let alone phone line), with the line often a party line, and the instrument itself with a rotary dial.

Today, a party line might refer to a political agenda or a Conga line dance, but rarely to telecommunications.I remember when the Princess phone









and then Touch Tone phone



were innovations.

Now, there are cells, razors, Blackberries, iPhones.

Amazing.


When I was a kid:


cell











or










When I was young: blackberry



When I was young: razor








As for an "Apple iPhone", in my younger days I could only have imagined that such a phrase would be some kind of rebus; yet just now the introduction of this newest communications tool is hailed as nothing less than revolutionary.

"It's a product of mythical proportions, " says Entner, senior vice president of IAG Research. "They're not saying the iPhone will cure cancer and bring world peace, but that it will do everything else."

It's been said change is the only constant. Let's see how much we can notice while we are in the midst of it.