Tag Archives: Family

April 7, 2010 · 3:00 AM

Roasted or Dyed?

Last Saturday night the Rephs gathered around the table and dipped matzo into fresh horseradish to taste the spice that brings tears to our eyes.

We celebrated Passover with the Seder, as we do every year.  We join the Jewish community in their practice of remembering God’s provision for His people, and in our case, we recognize that God already honored His promises by bringing Christ to be our ultimate Savior.

We read the Messianic Haggadah, dip our parsley in salt water, hide the matzo from the children, and raise our glasses of red wine in love of the Lord.  It is a tangible, intentional ritual that leads its participants in worship filled with verses read aloud and the sharing of food and drink.

Passover is as solid as the lamb bone shank on the Seder plank; you can rely on it, count on it, because it’s never going to change.  I believe that is my favorite thing about Passover — in that way, it mirrors the character of God.

My mother-in-love (synonym for in-law in our family) enjoys inviting extended family and friends to share in the delicious food she’s made while following my father-in-love’s lead in the reading.

As I’ve mentioned before, Mike’s family believes (as now do I) that we should celebrate the same holidays that Christ did when He walked the Earth.   In fact, the Last Supper was a Seder, and that evening is crucial in the story of Christ’s death and resurrection (known today as Easter).

Ah, Easter.

On Sunday afternoon after the Bergers get back from church, we gather with 18 close friends for a day of elation, rejoicing…and wine tasting.

Be honest: you were expecting me to say egg hunting.  If so, you were right — there is also an egg hunt.

On the afternoon of Easter we run, adults all, through my parents house scouting for 36 hidden eggs, which have been carefully numbered and colored the night before by my younger sister.  It’s a mad dash that is taken incredibly seriously — if you end up with just one or two eggs, you may as well have one on your face.

Then comes the wine tasting contest.  Every guest (or couple) brings a bottle of wine that pairs best with the Easter ham.  Then we host a tasting, take notes, and vote on the finest wine.  One year, Phil and Rachel brought Manischewitz, a joke which was lost on those who don’t also celebrate Passover.

To my mom, and to all of us really, Easter is the perfect day to welcome people into our homes in warm hospitality and celebration as we recognize that we serve a most wonderful God.  Many people who attend our Easter don’t know much about Jesus at all, and we’re hoping they may see a glimpse of the freedom and joy we have from knowing Him.

We’ve had atheists, agnostics, even a Buddhist monk.

Come on in!  Find an egg, have some wine, and feel free to say “Cheers!” when one family member says, “He is risen!” and ten more holler, “He is risen, indeed!”

Our president started an unprecedented tradition of hosting the Seder in the White House, despite being a Christian.  Later in the week he also hosted the White House Easter egg roll and hunt.  I identify with this dichotomy.

Where Passover is reflective, reverent and focused, Easter is triumphant, explosively joyful and full of freedom.  Three years of celebrating the two together has, for me, begun to turn the key in a door that has always been locked.  As a follower of Christ, I’ve never been sure of which attitude to embody: should my face be down-turned in reverence or upward in thanksgiving?  Should I solemnly acknowledge the immaculate perfection of my Creator, or stomp my feet and clap because of His shocking insistence on loving us?  Should I hone my discipline out of honor to Him or embrace my freedom to live outside of rules?

Celebrating Passover and Easter have shown me that it’s both.  Both holidays are about humbled gratitude.  God is not about either/or.  His capacity to be worshiped isn’t restricted to a single method.  I’m excited to carry on the tradition of showing gratefulness in such complimentary ways.

“Next year in Jerusalem!”

“He is risen, indeed!”

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March 24, 2010 · 3:00 AM

Oh the Places You’ll Go!

My friends Katie and Jimmy have the most romantic love story, and I just have to share it.

After graduating from university a couple of years prior, Katie was hard at work as an occupational therapist, helping people who’d had strokes or severe accidents rehabilitate their lives.  She was doing exactly what she’d gone to school for, was making great money, and would be considered a success by any account.

One problem:  she was incredibly bored.

Despite the success in her career, she knew she was missing an essential element of life — adventure.  She was single, had never traveled overseas, and suddenly felt an intense need to abandon her current life and explore the world.

She grabbed her friend Eileen and booked a trip to Ireland, taking three weeks off of work.

Since this was her first time abroad and she had absolutely no idea how to get around, she and Eileen booked a tour, something like Rick Steves would host: the bus, the sights, the strangers.

Ah, the strangers.  Katie wasn’t one to gab with every person she met, but three weeks with just Eileen would be a long three weeks indeed, so she chatted with the fellow tourists from time to time.

One man in particular felt the need to give Katie some advice.  His name was O.B., and he was an adorable elderly man who worked as a judge in the States. She told him about her big adventure and how she didn’t want to return home to her occupational therapy job.  She wasn’t ready to settle down yet.

“Why don’t you head to Sun Valley, Idaho?” he asked her.  “Gorgeous ski resort.  Plenty of work.  Head there for a few months just to get through winter and then you can see how you feel.”

Katie listened to his idea, but quickly dismissed it.  She’d never even been to Idaho.

Upon returning to the States, Katie reconsidered Sun Valley.  She didn’t want to return to work, so she quit her job.  She asked a friend to join her for a winter in Idaho, and they jumped in the car headed west.

Sun Valley turned out to be a bigger adventure than Ireland.  She got a job working in a restaurant at the top of the mountain, but after a month of 25 degree mornings riding a chairlift up a mountain plus falling from that chairlift once, she quickly realized she needed a job that didn’t involve upper-mountain transportation.  She soon started work at a single-lane bowling alley.  It would seem that luck was not on her side, as even though she made it through a chairlift fall, a chubby 12-year-old boy skiing out of control crashed into her — breaking her back.  She then worked at the bowling alley on crutches.

But it didn’t stop her social life.  She was going on three dates a week with fun men she met.  She met celebrities who were in town to ski.  She was having the time of her life.

After those three winter months passed, she was convinced this was where she was supposed to be and told her friend she wouldn’t be returning with her.  Her friend needed the job she had left, so she headed back alone.

…meanwhile, a year before Katie arrived, Jimmy had made nearly the exact same decision.  He had just graduated from college and was ready to leave responsibility in his dust.  Just like Katie, he decided to head to Sun Valley for a few months.  And just like Katie, he decided to stay indefinitely.

He got a job at a catering company, pulling double-shifts and working late hours to make rent and have some beer money.  He had a blast for a year.  He dated, but he didn’t meet the girl for him.

Not long after Katie decided to stay in Sun Valley, some mutual friends suggested to her that she meet Jimmy.

“Have you met my buddy Jimmy?” one asked her.

“Jimmy who?” she replied.  It was a small resort town, after all.

“Jimmy Carter,” he answered with a straight face.

“Oh right,” she replied sarcastically.  “Yes, I’m very close with the president.”

But it turns out that was his actual name, so she got over it.  They went on a date.  And another.  And another.

Jimmy claims that the moment he first kissed Katie on a street corner after a date, he knew without a doubt that she was the one.

One year to the day after their first date, they got married.  Ten months after that, they had a baby girl.  Three years after that, they had another baby girl.  And four years after that, they had their last baby — another girl.

I am that second baby girl.  You see, I lied, a little bit.  This isn’t the story of my friends Katie and Jimmy.  It’s the story of my parents, Alyson and Warren.  And 30 years ago today, they promised to stay together for as long as they both shall live.  I think they’re well on their way, wouldn’t you agree?

Happy 30th Anniversary, Mom and Dad!


(Here they are in Venice in summer 2009.  PS – for those of you too young to know, Warren Burger was the US Chief Justice when my parents met, which is why my mom thought my father’s name was a joke.)

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December 23, 2009 · 3:00 AM

Etiquette for Awkward Situations — Vol 3: On a Plane

Today I board a flight to LA toting both my carry-on luggage and hopefully, my best behavior.  I always brace for the impact of encountering airline passengers; when people are treated like cattle, they can hardly be blamed for reacting like baboons.  Here, rules of engagement for the most ruthless form of travel.

Pre-flight
Awkward Situation: Despite the airline calling for people to board by seat rows, 150 people are clustered around the gate, jockeying to get to the front.  You seem only to have two options:  shove your body through the masses like a teenager at a Jonas Brothers concert, or literally be the last person to board (forfeiting your access to overhead bin real estate).

Solution: Follow traditional traffic rules.  My brother-in-law, Phil, (who will be traveling with us tonight) works at Swerve, a driving instruction company.  He says most people on the road should already know the common-courtesy rule of “Each one lets one.”  The same applies here.  As you move like so much human sand through the hour glass, let one person go in front of you and then someone else lets you in.  We hope.

Takeoff
Awkward Situation: You are finally seated and prepared for takeoff, when the person next to you reveals the undeniable fact that they are a Chatty Cathy.  Your eyes glaze over at the prospect of speaking for two hours with a total stranger whom you will never see again in your life.

Solution: Engage in minimal small talk until takeoff, wherein you pull a book from your bag and show it to the Cathy, saying kindly, “Have you heard of this author?  She’s supposed to be fantastic.  I’ll let you know how it is!”  And then promptly open it.

Beverage Cart
Awkward Situation: It’s your first official day of “Christmas break” and you and your friends are eager for a little yule-tide cheer — in the form of a beer.  Or wine.  Or cocktail.

Solution: Plane rides are not the time to party-hardy.  When you’re stuck in a stationary position and can’t even converse with more than the two people next to you, you’re not in a place to have too good of a time.  Just have one drink and pay with cash.  Order quietly so you’re not obnoxious.  Don’t ask twenty questions to see what brands they carry — check ahead of time by looking in the airline guide in the pocket in front of you.  Then raise a glass and cheers to a safe flight.

Switching Seats
Awkward Situation: The person next to you asks if you would please switch seats with their spouse so they can sit together — but said spouse is 15 rows behind you and in a middle seat.

Solution: If you can swing it for a short flight, consider it your good deed of the week and say you’d be happy to help.  If you are already sitting with your own spouse, kindly explain that you understand their situation but you would like to stay with your traveling companion.  Also, even if you aren’t traveling with someone, you’re under no obligation to move seats.

Bathroom Break
Awkward Situation: You’re practically bursting at the seams after four diet Sprites and two hours of resisting the urge to visit the dreaded airline bath-closet (how could we call that a room with a straight face?).  But there are three people already clustered around the stewardess area waiting their turn.

Solution: It depends on your seat.  If you’re middle or window, get up as soon as possible to expand the amount of time between disruptions of your seat mates.  If you’re aisle, wait until there is only one person or no line at all before hopping up.  Also, keep in mind that the people in the unfortunate seating of the last few rows of the airplane shouldn’t have to stare at your backside that hovers directly in their faces as you wait for the bath-closet.

Warm thanks to those of you who sent in great etiquette conundrums.  For those of you who have yet to inquire, feel free to ask about your awkward situation at wordsbecomeone@gmail.com.

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