We will do and we will understand
Alisa and I have been trying to read books around the same time and then talk a bit about them. It was her turn to choose, so she chose Mudhouse Sabbath by Lauren Winner (a re-read for both of us, actually, but a very timely one). Last night I sent her an insanely long email detailing my thoughts on the first half of the book, but don’t worry, I’m not going to go chapter-by-chapter through the book on here. There are a few things I will probably mention at a later date (like the discussion of weddings which is on my mind as our fifth anniversary rapidly approaches), but one of the things that stuck out to me the most was in the introduction.
Practice is to Judaism what belief is to Christianity . . . for Jews, the essence of the thing is a doing, an action. Your faith might come and go, but your practice ought not waver. (Indeed, Judiasm suggests that the repeating of the practice is the best way to ensure that a doubter’s faith will return.) This is perhaps best explained by a midrash (a rabbinic commentary on a biblical text). This midrash explains a curious turn of phrase in the Book of Exodus: “Na’aseh v’nishma,” which means “we will do and we will hear” or “we will do and we will understand,” a phrase drawn from Exodus 24, in whcih the people of Israel proclaim “All the words that God has spoken, we will do and we will hear.” The word order, the rabbis have observed, doesn’t seem to make any sense: How can a person obey God’s commandment before they hear it? But the counterintuitive lesson, the midrash continues, is precisely that one acts out God’s commands, one does things unto God, and eventually, through the doing, one will come to hear and understand and believe.
As I said to Alisa, last night, I can see how just doing has made a lot of difference in my life lately. The problem is that it doesn’t always turn into more doing. That’s not completely true, actually. I’m just wishing that I could have a return to the days when I would willingly get up at 5:30 every morning and read my Bible and drink my coffee, but I am not yet willing to work to get to that point. So reading spiritual books turned into checking my Bible for a few things, which is slowly turning into reading more in the Bible, which I hope will turn into even more (regular) Bible reading. Don’t they say that if you change too suddenly, it probably won’t stick? I hope my changes, slow as they are, will stick.
I think one of the reasons that liturgy and prayerbooks and just doing things means so much to me is that I never regularly went to a denominational church until about two years ago. My grandparents are Baptist, and we would visit their church, so I feel versed in Baptist lore, but my home church was always nondenominational (even in the - dare I say it - Charismatic/Vineyard vein). Mike also grew up in nondenominational churches, and while neither of us feel that there’s anything wrong with those churches, right now we feel more at home at our Baptist church. Unlike any Baptist church I’ve ever been to, our church does a bit more “high church”-y things like following the church calendar and responsive readings and prayers and things. And the doing of all of that has been very helpful to me.
One point that Lauren Winner didn’t make is that spiritual disciplines often help take away from the individuality I’m-going-at-this-alone that evangelical Christianity often gets trapped in. When your doing is rooted in community (others are praying these prayers with me, others are practicing these same disciplines with me) it reminds you that you are a part of something bigger. You can see the faith of those around you, even when you’re not sure you can muster it yourself. In that way, as Jesus said, the faith of your friends can heal you. Because it can help you keep going, help you believe when you are weak.
I don’t have it all figured out, but I’m going to keep pursuing, because I truly believe that as I do, I will understand.
March 31st, 2005 at
“I’m just wishing that I could have a return to the days when I would willingly get up at 5:30 every morning and read my Bible and drink my coffee, but I am not yet willing to work to get to that point. ”
Ok, that does it… this is atleast the 10th time that I have read one of your blog entries and thought, “I definitely could have written this blog entry (just not as well:) )” And I always want to comment and say that, but I think, “No, I’ll wait and see if she does it again… then I’ll comment.” And, since you’ve done it again, I decided to comment
I don’t understand why it used to be so incredibly easy to wake up at 5:30 or 6:00 (one year I got up at 4 every morning) to spend time in the Word and drink coffee, and now I simply can not bring myself to do it. It seems impossible. I’ve surmised that it is because I gave up drinking coffee(I used to drink 6-7 cups a day), but that frusterates me because it means that I got up more for the coffee than for the fellowship. I’ve decided to start drinking it again(just in a lesser amount) to see if that will get me up in the morning. A part of me is willing to do anything to just get that desire and ability back. There’s so much more to it then just setting the alarm and waking up when it goes off. A lot has to take place in my heart for it to happen.
Yesterday, I was preparing for a bible study I had to teach (and was deathly afraid of teaching). I couldn’t find my newer Bible so I pulled out my huge Life Application Bible with the torn up, taped cover and the loose sections stuffed in it out of order(a section of Matthew was stuffed somewhere in Luke), and I started reading it. Reading this Bible made me feel like I was coming home to something I’d been missing for so long, and for once I felt like I could go back to it again.
I like to think that, if I start reading that Bible again, and if I get the beautiful espresso/coffee maker that I registered for as a wedding gift, I’ll be able to wake up at 5:30 every morning and spend the time with Jesus that I so desperately crave, but of which I am also so afraid. Maybe, the doing of that will melt some of my bitterness, fear, and confusion I have toward Him and the things He has done in my life. Maybe I will be able to find him like I did in the past, and sit with Him like I would and old friend, feeling comfortable and safe and loved.
But whatever happens… I’m glad to know I’m not alone in how I feel
March 31st, 2005 at
Thanks, Rebecca! I can relate to pretty much all of that. I’m glad you commented.
March 31st, 2005 at
What Kari isnt telling yall is that shes got a HUGE author crush on Lauren Winner and is waiting to see her *hot* new photo in her new book.
April 1st, 2005 at
I just finished this book, too! small world, eh? And I’ve since moved onto her new one, real sex…
I used to hang out with a lot of jewish kids in high school. one of them, avi, used to always say that to be a jew was to remember. to remember the covenant and God who kept it with them and the promise of the coming deliverer. and the easiest way to remember was the tactile traditions they surrounded themseleves with. the tzitzit on the prayer shawls, the shema on their doorframes, the candles at shabbat - it’s all there to remind them.
I love that. a lot of my faith is wrapped up in judaism, simply because i spent my formative years going to shabbat services and such, just to be with my friends. i find myself - when everything is spinning out of control around me - muttering the shema. and at the core of my faith practice is the idea that there are things that i do whether or not i ‘feel’ like them or not. the feeling is not the point and if it is, it will come later.
anyway, i’m excited that you two are reading this book - it’s one of my favorites.
April 1st, 2005 at
Kristen: Im reading “Real Sex” now too.