Things My Children Say

God has a sense of humour.

I am recently very aware of this. It's not that He's doing ironic things to me and it's my job in the divine game to find something funny about my circumstances. Not at all. It's actually a joyous awareness of God's sense of fun and funny.

I realised upon reading John Eldredge's Beautiful Outlaw that Jesus had a sense of fun. This should actually be pretty evident considering how joyfully funny many born-again believers are. It was not evident to me because I didn't recognise Jesus's sense of fun in the Gospels until the events therein were read and explained from the point of view that Jesus was a funny guy (due respect intended but alas never attained).

So, God has changed my perspective of Him through this book. Where before if i had a silly struggle i would solemnly ask God's forgiveness and His help to change me into the perfect being He [sic] wants me to be, now I grin sheepishly knowing that He's just laughing at me like a dad laughing at His little girl that puts on His glasses upside down. [cool picture eh?]

it's so awesome. soo so so awesome.

it's life changing to think of God as happy and enjoying me. Enjoying me because I'm silly and prone to mistakes and misconceptions. I'm his little girl, for crying out loud!

My mother has these little books in which she wrote down funny things me and my siblings said when we were small and even sillier than we are now. I wonder if somewhere on God's bookshelf he has one titled "Things My Children Say".

Jewish Music

While this actually belongs in my other blog, hardly anyone ever reads it and so I repost it here:
 
An old mitnaged went to a neighboring town on business, but it took longer than expected and Sukkot prevented him from returning home. Since his host was a Chasid, he attended his first Chasidic services. When he came home, his wife asked him how the services were.

“Well,” said the farmer, “it was interesting. I don't know if it was good, but it was interesting. They did something different, however. Instead of regular, ordinary zmiros, they sang niggunim.”

“Niggunim?” said his wife, “What are those?”

“Oh, they're OK. They're sort of like zmiros, only different.”

“Well, what’s the difference?”

“Well, it’s like this—if I were to say to you, ‘Rivka, the cows are in the corn,’ so, that would be a zmiro. If, on the other hand, I were to say to you, ‘Rivka, Rivka, Rivka, OY! Rivka, Rivka ...the cows, ya-dee-diddle-ay-dah ... the brown one, the black one, the white one, the black and white one! AY-derri-da-ee-dum ... the cows are in the ay-chiri-biri-biddle-ay-bum-corn, in the corn—OY! Ribbono shel Oylom ... the cows ... !’ Then, if I were to repeat the whole thing two or three times, well, that would be a niggun.”

Meanwhile, in another part of the country... A young Chasid went to Germany on business, and while there attended his first Reform service. He came home and his wife asked him how it was.

“Well,” said the young man, “It was interesting. I don't know if it was good, but it was interesting. They did something different, however. Instead of regular niggunim, they sang choral anthems.”

“Choral anthems?” said his wife, “What are those?”

“Oh, they're OK. They're sort of like niggunim, only different.”

“Well, what’s the difference?’

“Well, it's like this—if I were to say to you, ‘Rivka, the cows are in the corn,’ well, that would be a regular niggun. If, on the other hand, I were to say to you:

‘Oh Rivka, my Rivka, do thou hear my cry,
May thine ear attend now to the words that I say,
Turn thou thine attention to me by and by
To the praise of the wondrous creation today!

‘For the way of the animals none can explain
There is in their heads not a shadow of sense,
They hearken no wise to God’s sun or His rain
Unless from temptation of corn they are fenced.

‘Yea, those cows in their bovine, rebellious delight,
Have broke free their shackles, their warm pens eschewed.
Then goaded by minions of darkness and night
They all of the gold of my sweet corn have chewed.

‘So look to the glory-day that is ahead,
When the impulses lowly are purged and reborn,
When the fences we build will stand un-trample-ed,
And we live righteous lives, not as cows in the corn.’

And then ... if I were to repeat verses one and three, and then two and four ... well, that would be a choral anthem.”

Speaking of which




I love this pic. I saw it on an airport. I'm afraid I don't have philosophical musings on it, but that would kind of spoil its effect.

 

cross-cultural communication

Caller: Hello, I would like to speak to Annie Wan?
Operator: Ok, you can speak to me then..
Caller: No, I want to speak only to Annie Wan!
Operator: Listen, this is the call centre, if you want to speak to anyone, you can speak to me.
Caller: But you're not my wife. I need to speak to Annie Wan.
Operator: What does your wife have to do with it? I'm someone, you can speak to me.
Caller: Well, actually I am Sum Wan. That you are too is very interesting. But I need to talk to Annie Wan! It's an emergency.
Operator: (deep sigh) You are someone who wants to talk to anyone. I get it, ok. What is the emergency?
Caller: Well... just tell Annie Wan that her brother Noe Wan was involved in an bad car accident. Noe Wan got injured and now Noe Wan is being sent to the hospital. Right now, Avery Wan is on the way to the hospital.
Operator: Look, if no one was injured and no one was sent to the hospital, then the accident isn't an urgent matter! You may find this hilarious but I really don't have time for all these pranks!
Caller: You are so rude. What's your name?
Operator: I'm Saw Ree.
Caller: Absolutely! You should be sorry. Are you sure Annie Wan isn't at the office?