Everybody’s Working for the Weekend (Nehemiah 6-8)

I know I’ve been a little inconsistent with posting of late but I should mention that this will be my last post for three weeks. I’m headed to South Africa for some work, some play. Mr. Mandela asked me to help him to assuage the lingering tensions between the whites and the blacks so I’ve got to go hold hands with them all and make them realize their differences aren’t so big, really. When we’re finished, Nelson has promised me a slow dance.

Okay. So a wall has been built around Jerusalem and it’s a big deal, according to our narrator, Nehemiah. He’s a bit of a braggart if you ask me. He says that, for a while there, he had to hide out because everyone was trying to kill him because they were jealous that he was so close with God, or something. Reminds me of those girls who tend to think every guy is hitting on them.

After the drama dies down, there’s a big job push. Tons of people get hired to be gatekeepers, singers and Levites (servants, basically). And – no surprise here – all those people and their sons are named in a string of excruciatingly long, boring paragraphs.

Once that’s over, Nehemiah tells everybody to build a booth. Booths have come up a few times in the Bible and what I’ve always pictured are those stripey tents you see in Moroccan bazaars or the movie Aladdin. However, these ones are supposed to go on top of everyone’s house, which is kind of cool. I guess it’s like the biblical equivalent of a porch or a roof-top patio. They must be for kickin’ back and crankin’ a brew on a Friday. TGIF. When I was in university, and fancied myself much funnier than I do now, I like to put on a particular t-shirt that I crowned “The Party Shirt” after classes were done for the week. The Party Shirt used to be a workout shirt of my Dad’s until I learned what irony was and then, consequently, how awesome the shirt was. I still have it: it’s a pale blue Budweiser shirt with Spudz Mackenzie surfing on it, above the words “Hang Twenty”. I used to wear this shirt while listening to Loverboy’s “Everybody’s Working for the Weekend)” and threatening my roommates that when it was hot enough, I’d purchase a kiddie pool and chill in it in the front yard, advertising my state of relaxation to other collegiates and eliminating all possibility of myself (or them) getting a date.

Published in: on November 20, 2011 at 4:20 pm  Leave a Comment  
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