Leviticus 23

Who doesn't like festivals? If you answer, "An introvert like you," you'd be exactly right! Or you would be if we were talking about me as a kid. As a youngling, I remember going to an Obon festival (I think that's what was; it was Japanese in any case) at a local park a few blocks from our house. Unlike some kids, who were undoubtedly thrilled by the colors, sounds, jollification, and, well, festivities, I would much rather have been at home reading a book. As such, I don't remember anything specific about the festival with one thunderous exception: the taiko drums. I don't think I'd ever heard such a ferocious, resonant sound in my life; I have vivid memories the sonorous sound waves of the drumbeats causing my very coelom to vibrate.

Even at Disneyland, I was never a big fan of the daytime parades or "dance parties;" all they did was make certain parts of the park more crowded when you were trying to make your way to another ride. The parades, while vibrant and upbeat, don't come close to matching the sheer spectacle of Fantasmic or the other nighttime spectaculars.

So am I just one big party pooper? Well, yes, but I've actually come to appreciate festivals more; unlike film, books, or TV shows, they involve live entertainment that will never be performed in exactly the same way again, creating a sense of immediacy. This year, I attended the Rose Parade for the first time in person, and it was a more scintillating experience than just lounging on the couch and watching it on the telly--and I don't care how many meters long your enormous flatscreen TV is. At one point, the parade got held up for about 30 minutes, right as a high school marching band started to pass in front of us. They continued playing in place for about 10 minutes, but when they had exhausted their repertoire and it was clear the parade wasn't going to start moving again anytime soon, they stopped and started chatting with each other.

That's not something the networks would include in their broadcast, but I did get a kick out of seeing one of those inconsequential, rehearsed moments that you can only witness in person. The communal sense of celebration in a festival or parade also reminds me that I can't spend all my free time with my nose submerged deep in the bowels of a book.

The festivals in Leviticus 23, though, aren't just for fun--all of them serve to honor God. But who says that honoring God has to be totally bereft of merrymaking? God specifies that the Israelites are to do no work during the festivals. Of course, that doesn't mean that they were given leave to indulge in debauchery, but when we honor God, we get to luxuriate in the benefits of His company--and certainly that's a boon worth celebrating with others. Even if it involves waving two lambs around (verse 20)--as if you were trying to lasso something with the lambs because you had somehow misplaced your rope.