Three chapters today to avoid an unhlepful split.  As we near the end of Moses' life there is clearly some tidying up to be done.

Inheritance Rights

A group of sisters, Mahlah, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah, and Tirzah approach Moses to protest at the injustice of not being allowed to benefit from their father's inheritance, that because there are no sons, the line ends and the inheritance is lost.  Moses consults God and comes up with a set of rules that remain, largely unaltered, to our own time...

First the sons

If no sons then the daughters

If no daughters (hence no children) a man's brothers

If no brothers, a man's uncles

If no uncles then the nearest relative.

It is, I'd suggest quite shocking that it is only in recent years that the British Royal Family has moved to succession based on birth order rather than gender.  Yet this shows, perhaps, how radical was the request of the sisters to Moses.  Women to have equal inheritance rights to men, at least when there are no men: it's not perfectly equal but it is striking.

Succession Planning

Moses is told again that he will not enter the Land of Promise.  His concern is not for himself but for the people - who will take over the thankless task of leading?  Joshua is identified and commissioned by the priest.

In the "real world" succession planning is allegedly something to be kept in mind by those in leadership - a recognition that part of the role is to identify and equip those who will continue the work after them.  In churches we don't so readily adopt such a view, at least not as I perceive it.  Ministers come and then they go, and we seek a new one based on a new set of criteria.  But maybe that's too narrow a perspective - a question I've been increaisngly aware of in this time "laid aside" is how, if at all, people can be encouraged and given opportunities to explore their gifts, how we encourage and equip a new generation of deacons or Sunday School leaders or preachers or whatever it is.  It is all too easy to get bogged down in "keeping the show on the road" to the extent that I stop looking at the 'bigger picture.'

Holy Convocations

Much of this chunk of text is taken up with detailed instructions from daily, weekly and monthly sacrifices, the Passover, the first fruits and a whole set of special days in the seventh month.  One heck of a lot of animals are slaughtered and wine poured, and all in the name of worship.

The convocation literally means "called together" - so pretty similar to other words we use such as congregation (gathering) or ekklesia (called out (for a purpose)).

Holy convocations are 'sacred assemblies', acts of worship.  Rather than focussing on the form they take - no-one has carried out animal sacrifices since the second Temple era - perhaps it is good to notice the rhythm that is implied of daily, weekly, monthly and occasional offices/festivals.   Literally coming together so frequently is not practical for many in our churches, but there are some congregations that collectively adopt practices that echo the intent - perhaps a daily office or an agreed Bible reading plan; perhaps a monthly prayer meeting or mid-week service...

I think what I am challenged to ponder is what rhythms and practices do I think are of sufficient import that I would want to lay them down as 'reasonable expectations'.... firstly for myself, then perhaps for others...

Today will be my first attendance as a lay participant in a meeting, mainly of medical professionals, under the above title.  In plain English, it's something about chemo-brain, so it will be interesting (assuming I understand anything that's said!) to find out what it's about.  Hopefully once I've worked out what it's all about, and I can also work out if there is anything valuable I can contribute...

Most of this chunk is taken up with a detailed description of a second census of (the men of) Israel, and an easily missed final sentence shows that by this point many years have passed and a whole generation has died off.  Clearly the chronology of this record is far from complete - the first few chapters all seemed to occur within months of leaving Egypt, now all of a sudden as much as three or four decades have passed by.  From time to time the people have settled here or there, at others they have been embroiled in battles, now, after a rather ugly account of events involving Moabites, a new head count is undertaken.

Word choices

Not being able to read Hbrw (Hebrew), I can't go to the original text here, and my interlinear is at church.  But I was struck that the word choices vary quite considerbaly throughout this section.

According to the NRSV (and KJV) "the people" are involved in sexual relations with Moabite women.

In the census we have "the descendents" of Reuben and Simeon, "the children" of Gad and the "sons" of Judah.  Issachar and Zebulun have 'descendents', Joseph has "sons". Ephraim, Benjamin, Dan, Asher and Naphthali all have "descendents".  The Levites are not numbered, but the clans are listed.

Does this matter in context?  I suspect not, but it is interesting to note which words are used because of the way that scripture is then read and interpetted.  "The people" or "the descendents" will be heard very differently from "the men" (NIV) or "the sons.

Net Change

The first census numbered a total of 603, 550 men of 'fighting age', by the second census the number had reduced to 601,730.  Some tribes had increased, others had decreased.  A bit of web searching (as I was too lazy to re-read the first census and do the sums myself turned up this neat summary which shows that, overall, the population was pretty stable (down by 0.3%) whilst inidividual tribes varied considerably, e.g. the tribe Simeon shrank by 63% whilst Mannasseh grew by 64% (I haven't checked the arithmetic, but the order of magnitude is what matters).

Every year assorted Baptist (and other) bodies undertake some sort of census of their churches.  The number of congregations, the number of people in formal membership, the number of adults in certain age brackets or of specific ethnic groupings. Sometimes the numbers are up, sometimes they are down... and when they are down, a degree of centralised twitching arises to try to redress this.

Do these numbers matter?  Why did Moses collect them?  Why do we collect them?  For Moses, this second census was linked to allocating chunks of land.  For denominations the census sometimes seems to be a bit of a box-ticking exercise (we have N people in category Y) but can also inform priorties.

Surely, though, there has to be a note of caution - any allocation made on numbers is temporal.  Populations rise and fall quite naturally.  Proportional and absolute changes have different implications.  Decisions made on demographics often come back to bite those who make them (the closing, merging, opening and extending of schools across the UK seems to be a prime example of this).

It is useful, I am sure, to have a reasonably accurate picture of the demogaphic of our congregations and denominations... but it's what we do with that information, how it shapes our thinking, that matters... and that it doesn't become an end in itself!

Dividing up the Land

The land is to be divided up using a two-fold approach, by lot and by population.  As I read this, I was reminded of an image I'd seen online a week or so back, that expressed the population of London in terms of other UK cities:

The areas are allocated by population, so that the next largest cities in the UK, Birmingham, Leeds, Glasgow have populations equivalent to relatively small areas of London.  London has a population broadly similar to the entire county of Yorkshire or the whole nation of Scotland.

I'm not for a nano-second suggesting that these islands could or should be redistributed by population - there are endless reasons why that would be a bad idea - but it is an interesting comparison to make, and it does explain (to me at least) why some of the misunderstandings and injustices (real or perceived) arise.  I'd love to see a similar graphic for Glasgow (can't fine one) which, at least population-wise, occupies an equivalent position in Scotland.

For all the preceding waffle, there is an important question here, I think, which relates to the distribution of resources among the people of a nation.  Not all land is equally fertile or productive.  Not all people have the same opportunities.  Equal is not necessarily equitable.  I am also reminded of this graphic:

I have no answers, I just know that it is all incredibly complicated!

Who'd have thought that would emerge from another long list of names and numbers!!

Sasha has seemingly decided that she would like to read the book that kept me occupied for a good couple of hours!

They are right, all the people who told me this book. "The Return of the Prodigal Son" by Henri Nouwen is a 'must read'.  As with so many things, there was no sense that I wished I'd read it years ago, rather there was more a sense that, for me, now is a good time to read it for the first time.

Given the number of sermons I've heard that have arisen from people reading this book, or which have been at least informed by it, I was somewhat surprised how hugely autobiographical it is.  Nouwen is incredibly open about his own inner world, an inner world that certainly resonates with me, and I am sure with many others.  Hugely honest and vulnerable, it is the story of 'living with' a painting for a number of years and of a 'journey' prompted by comments made by others.

What also struck me is that the assorted sermons I've heard have always focused on the sons - not one has ever explored our own becoming of father/mother, with which Nouwen's exploration ends.  I am curious as to why this is, and what it says about the concept and our willingness to engage with it.  For me, it was as helpful as the explorations of self as both younger and elder son, integrating the two in a coherent whole.

So, an easy book to read - no big words or theological jargon - with some deep ideas to ponder.  And it comes with a free postcard of the painting too!

This sort of arises from memories...

Recently I had lunch with a friend who chose have French toast and bacon. 

That brought back memories of how my Dad used to make what was, in my view, the best French toast, and I'd had a yen for some since then. 

So this morning after a visit to GP nurse for some routine bloods, I called into a local emporium and chose this - French toast with bananas, berries, toasted almonds and honey. 

It was very scrumptious, and slid down nicely with a decaf skinny latte!

(Oh, and for the record, I don't miss bacon one bit since I stopped eating meat, so maybe I never loved it as much as I thought I did!)