First Baptist Church Of Memphis

When I lived in Fayetteville, my church there had the most wonderful arrangement with our Jewish Synagogue.  They would provide adults to do childcare for us on Christmas Eve and Easter.  We would provide adults to do childcare for them on Rosh Hoshanna and Yom Kippur.  Since those two holidays seemingly always fell on weekdays, when few of my members could get off work, guess who ended up doing childcare?  They must have had paid workers for the little guys, because I was always directed to the playground where I was to entertain and watch over about a dozen between the ages of 5 to 10 for about three hours.  They were great kids and I grew to know them over my years there.  I had to be the only Baptist pastor ever to be on a first name basis with all the Jewish kids in a community.
Most of the time we played soccer and kickball and built castles in the sand box, the usual.  But I just couldn’t help asking them what the significance of this day was for them.  They were like our kids.  Some mentioned the food, the ceremony, but most of them really could talk about what was going on.  Thinking of our cultural new year, I was reminded of what those children taught me about Rosh Hashana, the Jewish New Year.  It’s the day when the Book of Life is opened and all are assigned a place based on what has happened the year before—the righteous, the wicked, and those in between who have something to repent of before Yom Kippur, the day of atonement, 10 days later.  Its virtually assumed that most everyone falls into this latter category, so most all good Jews spend those 10 days in confession.  But what I remember most is what one bright 10 year old said about the theme of the Rosh Hashana---Today we remember that God is the God of all time, that God was with us in the past, that God took note of what we did and did not do, and that God will be with us in the year to come as well.
Now on the surface, that level of awareness of God’s presence could make one a bit self conscious to say the least, maybe even fearful.  But there was no note of that in the people of that congregation or their children.  That God may have noticed even their less than good deeds, was no note of shame, but privilege.  Instead what they emphasized was the fact that God noticed what they did.  God valued them.  God took interest in them.  God had expectations for them.  What they did mattered in the eyes of God.  God sought to do things in and through them.  Did such an idea provoke repentance and confession?  Sure it did.  But it was by no means a deflating concept.  It was, to the contrary, empowering and encouraging.  God is the God of all time: the past, the present, the future.  God is with us in all of it, and God is interested and invested in what we do with that time.
How different might 2012 be if we enter it with that mind set, with that level of awareness of God’s presence and interest in our lives?   How might it change us and the resolutions we make?  How might it change how we treat one another, our neighbor, our enemy?   How might it change how we work and play and rest?  How might it change how we give our time, our talents, our finances?  How might it change our priorities as individuals, families, church?  The God of all time is the God of 2012, and this God is interested in bringing about His kingdom and wants us to have a part in that.   It’s a powerful notion for all people of faith.  And if we let it, it could just make our year.    Kickball anyone?