Category Archives: Uncategorized

Uncategorized

How Have We Failed?

9 Comments

Teresa MacBain has a secret, one she’s terrified to reveal.

“I’m currently an active pastor and I’m also an atheist,” she says. “I live a double life. I feel pretty good on Monday, but by Thursday — when Sunday’s right around the corner — I start having stomachaches, headaches, just knowing that I got to stand up and say things that I no longer believe in and portray myself in a way that’s totally false.”

“On my way to church again. Another Sunday. Man, this is getting worse,” she tells her phone in one recording. “How did I get myself in this mess? Sometimes, I think to myself, if I could just go back a few years and not ask the questions and just be one of those sheep and blindly follow and not know the truth, it would be so much easier. I’d just keep my job. But I can’t do that. I know it’s a lie. I know it’s false.”

-by Barbara Bradley Hagerty
“From Minister to Atheist: A Story of Losing Faith”
NPR.org

Our teacher the Baal Shem Tov said: Every single thing one sees or hears is an instruction for his conduct in the service of G-d. This is the idea of avoda, service, to comprehend and discern in all things a way in which to serve G-d.

Hayom Yom: Iyar 9, 24th day of the omer
Compiled and arranged by the Lubavitcher Rebbe
Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, of righteous memory, in 5703 (1943)
from the talks and letters of the sixth Chabad Rebbe
Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn, of righteous memory

Yesterday I wrote When We’re Left Behind to describe my initial reactions to reading the news story I quoted above. After some thoughts and reflection, it hasn’t gotten much better. I still don’t like being called a “sheep,” “blind,” and thought of as not knowing the “truth.” MacBain’s story is supposed to be the first in a series of news articles on losing faith. I wonder if NPR would consider writing a series on the other side of the coin about people who have struggled, endured, and persevered over their crisis of faith.

Call me cynical, but I seriously doubt it.

The Baal Shem Tov considers everything we see and hear and probably every experience we have as a lesson in how we are to behave in the service of God. I guess that’s what I was trying to convey yesterday when I said we should love and not condemn people like Teresa MacBain. I admire her husband, who has managed to retain his faith in the face of his wife’s atheism. The NPR article spent almost no time exploring how all of this affects him. And I kind of know how he feels.

No, my wife isn’t an atheist, but she isn’t a Christian either. She’s Jewish, and I very much support her in her pursuit of her faith and her identity. But as time has passed, I have come to realize that we represent two different worlds. I used to think there was significant overlap between those two realms, but now I’m not so sure.

No, I’m sure. There’s not much overlap at all.

That brings up an interesting question, both for the MacBains and for me. How do you live with someone who is utterly different from you at the very foundation of your being?

OK, men and women are different, I get that. Every person who’s been married for more than a week or so realizes that living together as a married couple is a challenge. Every couple who has been together for five, ten, twenty, thirty years or more (our 30th wedding anniversary was just last month) knows just how much of a struggle it is at times to make the sorts of adjustments required between two people as they develop and (hopefully) grow.

One of the things I’ve noticed about most of the people of faith I associate with is that, if they’re married, their spouses have the same fundamental understanding of God and religion as they do. That is, if the husband’s a Christian, chances are, so is the wife, and vice versa. Teresa and Ray MacBain have just entered the dubious club of intermarried couples.

Welcome.

So what does Ray MacBain do now? Does he go to church and leave his wife at home every Sunday? Does he go to the same church were his wife was a minister? If so, how does he deal with the inevitable gossip and tongue-wagging over his Teresa’s decision to leave the faith and her “coming out” as an atheist?

I haven’t listened to the audio interview (like most people, I can read a great deal faster than people can talk). I have briefly scanned some of the comments under the NPR story and saw the typical war of words between self-righteous atheists and self-righteous Christians. Does bashing each other really help? If an atheist wants the freedom of choice, why can’t I have that same right as a person of faith?

Here’s one of the more illuminating comments I read:

It bothers me to no end to see the intolerance and arrogance of my atheist friends who look down upon the faithful as if they’re second class muggles… just as it bothers me to watch the intolerance of the “faithful” Christian towards other beliefs or non-beliefs.

What I see are the human flaws of conceit and arrogance – people who think they know what’s “right” or what’s “best” for others, and have no room in their worldview for people with different viewpoints.

I sympathize with Teresa’s plight – I struggle with my faith. It saddens me that people seem more concerned with sticking it to their fellow human being than trying to find the best path to walk for themselves.

Alas, “intolerance and arrogance” are very human traits and not limited just to the religious or the irreligious.

As annoying as it is to be called a “sheep,” I guess it shouldn’t really surprise me. There’s nothing about being an atheist or an agnostic that should cause me to expect them to be good, bad, or indifferent. There’s not inherit moral code to not believing in God, so when someone says they’re an atheist, there’s no way I can know what exactly they’re going to say or do.

However,  I do have some sort of idea of what to expect from someone who says they are a disciple of Jesus. We are expected to take the higher moral road just because of who we are. That’s why it’s especially disappointing to see Christians making snarky comments to atheists (and I’m not immune) in an NPR online news story. If your life is supposed to be an example of how you have been changed by God, how is acting like a regular, “run-of-the-mill” human being accomplishing that?

Is that “God thing” working for you yet?

That’s what I see coming out of this news story, out of the comments, and out of the buzz about Christians vs. Atheists on the web. It’s not my faith in God I’m worried about, it’s my faith in people. On somewhat rare occasion, I meet a Christian who really deserves to be called by the name of the Master. I meet a person who is truly helpful, compassionate, charitable, kind, and loving to everyone they meet, not just the people they know and like. What really scares me is that the sort of person I’m describing is rare in religious circles. It’s even more scary that they might be more common among the atheists.

I know Christians reading what I just wrote are saying, “It doesn’t matter if an atheist is nicer than a Christian. The atheists are still going to hell.” Oh. It doesn’t matter?

“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on his glorious throne. Before him will be gathered all the nations, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. And he will place the sheep on his right, but the goats on the left. Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’

“Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not clothe me, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ Then they also will answer, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to you?’ Then he will answer them, saying, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’ And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.” –Matthew 25:31-46 (ESV)

Sure looks like it matters to me. More importantly, it sure looks like it matters to God.

I’m going to stop short of blaming “the church” for failing Teresa MacBain. We each negotiate our own relationship with God, so Teresa is just as responsible for her’s as I am for mine. However, if she had any lingering doubts about her decision, the various “bad attitude comments” from Christians in response to her “outing” herself probably sealed the deal.

Christians, Jews, Muslims, and most other religious people tend to be pretty judgmental, relative to the world around us. On the one hand, we do have a specific set or standards we feel we’re upholding, as opposed to an “anything goes” sort of world view. On the other hand, we tend to substitute judgment for compassion and “legalism” (yes, even Christians) for grace. Jesus was hammered verbally for hanging out with the low-lives of his day: prostitutes and tax-collectors (collaborators with the occupying Roman army). We’re kind of like the folks who judged Jesus. We judge and accuse and complain when a Christian hangs out with and is accepting of “low lives” such as gays, for example (a really big sin in the eyes of most Christians…much bigger than wife beating, bank robbery, and surfing porn on the web). We demand that Christians only hang out with other Christians and the split second someone tells us they have doubts about their faith, they are dead to us.

Man, do I make Christians sound bad. Almost like the way some atheists talk about us.

But if all of us were really practicing grace, and I think we can do this without compromising our principles and blending in to the moral structure of the secular world around us, I doubt if too many people would have a lot to complain about when Christianity was mentioned.

The church hasn’t failed Teresa MacBain, but a Christian fails every time he or she doesn’t show compassion for someone in pain, including someone who has struggled and even lost their faith. It is said the church is the only army that shoots its own wounded. I believe that. Teresa MacBain may never come back to faith in God and discipleship in Jesus, but if she wants to, and if she came to you about it, would you extend your hand in welcome or show her back out the door, not wanting to be tainted by a “low life?”

What are you supposed to learn from this experience about your conduct in the service of God today?

 

Uncategorized

When We’re Left Behind

10 Comments

Teresa MacBain has a secret, one she’s terrified to reveal.

“I’m currently an active pastor and I’m also an atheist,” she says. “I live a double life. I feel pretty good on Monday, but by Thursday — when Sunday’s right around the corner — I start having stomachaches, headaches, just knowing that I got to stand up and say things that I no longer believe in and portray myself in a way that’s totally false.”

MacBain glances nervously around the room. It’s a Sunday, and normally she would be preaching at her church in Tallahassee, Fla. But here she is, sneaking away to the American Atheists’ convention in Bethesda, Md.

-by Barbara Bradley Hagerty
“From Minister to Atheist: A Story of Losing Faith”
NPR.org

When I read the NPR story, my immediate reaction was one of anger. I took the actions of ordained ministers who have become atheists and yet continue to serve in the pulpit as personally insulting and hypocritical. I also felt that NPR’s publishing of this story was an attack on Christians.

Of course, I shot my big mouth off on twitter and received replies asking why I felt that the telling of one person’s story on their journey of faith (even if it’s away from faith) was an attack on Christianity.

Good question. Why do I feel this way? If someone loses faith and a news agency decides to write a story about it, why do I care? For that matter, if some people choose to walk away from the church, why should I feel that they’re invalidating everything I believe in?

I don’t mind when people disagree with me. I don’t expect everyone in the world to have the same, thoughts, ideas, and opinions as I do. In fact, the world would be a pretty boring place if everyone were just like me. I actually enjoy a frank debate on interesting topics now and then. I guess it’s just the sense of being completely devalued, considered unintelligent, superstitious, and finally, irrelevant that bothers me. It’s one thing for a person to have never had faith and to refuse the option to consider God. It’s another thing entirely to be a person who was once devout and who helped others come to faith, do a complete u-turn and say God doesn’t matter anymore.

It’s like saying I don’t matter anymore, either. Faith isn’t something that I put on like a raincoat when the forecast is for thunder showers. Faith and trust in God is the fabric of my personality and the substance of my being. If we were once alike in our faith and you walk away, it’s like you’re saying who I am is no good anymore.

Two days later, MacBain returned to Tallahassee — and to reality.

“I didn’t know how far or how explosive her coming out would be, but, then again, nobody did,” says MacBain’s husband, Ray MacBain. “The next morning, we got up, I went to work and my son Alex texted me and said it went viral.”

The local TV station, WCTV, ran a series of stories about MacBain, interviewing her boss but never MacBain herself. Hundreds of people wrote comments on the site, and MacBain says they were painful to read.

“The majority of them, to begin with, were pretty hateful,” she says, although some nonbelievers soon came to her defense. “For somebody who’s been a good guy their whole life and been a people pleaser, it’s really hard to imagine that overnight you’re the bad guy.”

This is a very tragic consequence for a person, a member of the clergy, to experience when she “comes out of the closet” and admits to losing her faith. While the NPR story is very sympathetic to MacBain and others like her, I can see why people in the church would be angry.

broken-crossThere’s a sense of being betrayed. Imagine going through your own spiritual and emotional crisis. Who do you turn to for help? Often secular counselors, though well-meaning, just don’t understand the dynamics of a crisis of faith. For many people, the first person you turn to is your Minister or Pastor. You go to them, pour out your heart, fearing some “fire and brimstone” lecture, but hoping and praying he or she will understand. Then they do, they help you, they pray with you, and they gently guide you to a place where you feel like you can trust God again.

And then you find out they were lying between their teeth.

OK, it’s probably a lot more complex than that, and I certainly don’t want to be unfair to the practicing clergy who are atheists and enduring their own spiritual conflicts and crises in the pulpit, but yes, I do understand how the people around them could get very angry, could feel ripped off, and could feel discounted and even attacked.

It’s as if the one person in this world who you depend upon to be your spiritual anchor turns out to be made out of paper mache. I guess this is why we’re supposed to have faith in God and not in people, but for most human beings, it really helps to have someone spiritually stronger than you to rely upon when times get tough.

But people lose their faith. Really good and kind and wonderful people lose their faith. They go through hard times. They watch other people who they love go through hard times. Little children die of horrible diseases. Relationships are shattered. Where is a loving and compassionate God? I can see how faith could take quite a beating. Then your Minister announces to the world that she is an atheist.

Gee. What’s the point?

I’ve mentioned Joe and Heidi Hendricks before. I’ve mentioned they both have cancer. I’ve talked about the emotional roller coaster ride they’ve gone through on a daily basis for years and years. They are the two most remarkable people I know. I don’t know what holds them together…except their faith in God and their love for each other.

Put two Christians through identical horrible circumstances and then never let up on them. Hurt, terrify, and disappoint them over and over again until they both feel like they’re going to explode. Offer them comfort and hope, and then rip it away at the last possible second. What enables one Christian to endure with their faith intact or even strengthened, while the other’s faith is torn to shreds and they crawl away defeated, abandoning God as they feel they have been abandoned by God?

I don’t know. I’m not so cruel as to say one person’s faith was stronger or that the ‘weaker’ person didn’t have a ‘real’ faith at all. I can’t judge another person’s faith. I have no idea what they’re experiencing.

So if someone loses faith and walks away, what does that do to the rest of us? Why do we let it affect us at all? After all, it’s the other person’s decision. They’re making it for themselves. Pastors and Ministers and Rabbis are human beings after all. In fact, the demands of being a religious leader can make things harder rather than easier, and who knows how many of them silently suffer week after week, pretending to their congregations that they have a faith that has long since evaporated like an ice-cube in an Arizona heat wave.

We know we’re supposed to love one another. We know it isn’t easy. But that’s the point. Love isn’t easy. We have to love when it’s hard, too. If someone like Teresa MacBain in the NPR story is our Minister and she tells us she’s lost her faith, how should we respond?

“I believe in God,” says her husband, Ray. “And to be honest, I pray for her every night, I got friends praying for her.”

But he says he adores his wife and defends her right to disbelieve. “That’s why I spent 23 years in the Army. That’s why I’m still a police officer. We have freedom of speech and freedom of thought. And God never forced anybody to believe, so who am I to step up?”

This could have torn the MacBain family apart. For all I know, someday it might do just that. But we’re supposed to love and to try to understand, even when it’s not easy, and even when we feel attacked, and even when we feel insulted and take what the other person says and does really personally.

Love isn’t a warm and fuzzy feeling or lots of hugs and kisses. Love is setting aside your (my) personal reactions and trying to understand what the other person is going through. And then, you try to offer them what they need, even when it’s not what you want to give (and sadly, a recent study indicates that very religious people aren’t particularly motivated by compassion).

Is God that hard to find? When someone walks away and leaves us behind, God says we’re supposed to love them. Sometimes, with so many atheists telling us how bad we are and how evil Christianity is in the world, it’s hard to believe in love at all. It’s not rational, but if we acted like the rest of the world around us (and some religious people do), then we’d be as bad as they say we are. Jesus said to love. It hurts when someone who used to be a believer tells us they’re and atheist and that they’re “better” or they’ve “grown up” now. If we want them to respect our choice to be a person of faith, we have to allow them the same right and not take it as a slap in the face.

Uncategorized

Love in Exile

1 Comment

In the previous chapters the Alter Rebbe explained how a Jew can perform Torah and mitzvot “with his heart” — with a love and fear of G-d. When a Jew is motivated by love and by a desire to cleave to the Almighty, his Torah and mitzvot will then surely be lishmah, i.e., with the most purely focused intentions. This, in turn, will add vitality to his endeavors. It is also possible, as explained in the previous chapter, that his love for G-d is such that he is motivated in his Torah and mitzvot by the desire to cause G-d gratification, just as a son strives to do all he possibly can for his father, so that his father may derive pleasure from his actions.

Love and fear of G-d stem from the two attributes of kindness (Chesed) and severity (Gevurah). The attribute of kindness and love is that exemplified by our forefather Abraham, who is described (Yeshayahu 41:8) as “Abraham who loves me.” The attribute of severity and fear is that of our forefather Isaac; the Patriarch Jacob refers to the G-d of his father (Bereishit 31:42) as the “Fear of Isaac.”

Today’s Tanya Lesson (Listen online)
Likutei Amarim, beginning of Chapter 45
By Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi (1745-1812)
founder of Chabad Chassidism
Elucidated by Rabbi Yosef Wineberg
Translated from Yiddish by Rabbi Levy Wineberg and Rabbi Sholom B. Wineberg
Edited by Uri Kaploun

“A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” –John 13:34-35 (ESV)

In yesterday’s meditation I talked about this new commandment of Jesus and how we don’t seem to obey it very well. While most Christians believe that the Law has been done away with and wholly replaced by grace, that doesn’t explain why they (we) should disregard this new “Law” of Christ as if it too were “nailed to the cross.”

As far as people in the Hebrew Roots/Messianic movement (in all its varied forms and expressions) are concerned, since most of them pride themselves on their total obedience to the commandments of Torah, how can they still blatantly disobey this one new commandment of the Messiah by openly expressing displeasure and even hostility toward people in the church?

As we see in the quote from the Tanya which I posted above, as well as other similar quotes I’ve used from this source over the past week or so, most people tend to obey God for one of two reasons: love and fear.

But if we are aware of God, believe in God, understand God is real, and realize that God has the ability to enforce His edicts, why then do we continue to disobey Him, even in the commandment to love one another? The explanation is also in this commentary on the Tanya:

For the soul had to descend from its source, from the most lofty of spiritual heights, to the nethermost level, in order to garb itself in a body whose life-force derives from kelipot, and is as distant as possible from G-d. This is all the more so if the individual caused the “Exile of the Shechinah” through improper thoughts, speech or deeds.

The Rebbe notes that this word alludes to ch. 36, where the Alter Rebbe concludes that this world is “lowest in degree; there is none lower than it in terms of concealment of His light; [a world of] doubled and redoubled darkness, so much so that it is filled with kelipot and sitra achra, which actually oppose G-d.”

Since the Divine spark of the soul is clothed in a body which is animated by the kelipat nogah of this world, it is removed at the farthest possible distance from G-d.

It gets worse.

The body is referred to as a skin, since it serves as a garment to the soul, as the verse states (Iyov 10:11), “You have garbed me with skin and flesh.” This is moreover the skin of a “snake”, since the body in its unrefined state is loathesome, as explained in ch. 31.3 The Divine spark must enter into such a body…

Welcome to exile in the farthest part of the universe away from God, clothed in a body of “snake skin.” Sounds repulsive, doesn’t it? However it explains a good many things, including the current and historical state of humanity, all of the crime, all of the wars, all of the day-to-day cruelty people engage in against each other. Just watch a local or national news broadcast on TV for half an hour and you’ll see what I mean.

It also explains, sadly enough, why we who claim the name of Christ continue to fail in obeying even one, simple commandment to love those who all belong to the same flock and who hear the voice of the same shepherd.

Oh sure, we may love most (or some) of the people in the congregation where we worship, but is that really obeying the commandment to love each other?

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same?” –Matthew 5:43-47 (ESV)

Oops. Guess that doesn’t work.

So how do we manage to love at all?

A Jew’s sin causes his soul to be exiled within the domain of the kelipot. This in turn (so to speak) exiles the Shechinah, the source of his soul, too. Pondering this matter will awaken within a Jew a profound feeling of compassion for his soul and for its source. This compassion, as the Alter Rebbe will now point out, should be utilized in one’s study of Torah and performance of mitzvot. This will elevate his soul, enabling it to reunite with its source, the blessed Ein Sof.

Even when Jews are (heaven forfend) in an unclean spiritual state, the Divine Name dwells among them. This arousal of compassion towards the Divine Name is what is alluded to in the previous phrase: “And let him return to G-d,” the stimulus for his repentance being one’s “mercy upon Him,” i.e., the Divine Name, the source of Jewish souls, inasmuch as Jews are part of the Divine Name.

If we try to apply this to the larger body of disciples in the Master, the lesson seems to be telling us that we can learn to love each other by feeling compassion for a “suffering God” who is in exile with us and within us. He is in exile with us in our “snake skin bodies” because we were all created in His image and the Divine spark dwells in each of us. But that includes every human being who has ever lived, including atheists and those of other religious traditions.

But what about we Christians having compassion for the suffering Messiah? He was tortured and killed for our sake because God had compassion on us and refused to let us live out lives without hope. If, upon becoming disciples of the Master, the Spirit of God entered into us, whispered words of love and faith to us, and empowered us to surrender our sin to oblivion and surrender our souls to our Creator, can we not muster up enough of the compassion God has for humanity and express it to each other as “kindred spirits?”

Christian, Hebrew Roots person, Messianic, or whatever you call yourself. You who say you are saved by grace. You who say you flawlessly obey the Torah. You who exalt yourself in whatever manner you choose as attached to God in His Heaven. Do you love, not just the believer who is exactly like you, but those who also have a sincere devotion to the Master and who may look and act nothing like you? If not, what value is your so-called salvation? What light is shining out of the windows to your soul?

Our souls are windows for the world to receive light, pours through which it breathes, channels to its supernal source. There is no function more vital to our universe, nothing more essential to its fulfillment, since for this it was formed.

When we do good, speak words of kindness and teach wisdom, those windows open wide. When we fail, they cloud over and shut tight.

It is such a shame, this loss of light, this lost breath of fresh air. A stain can be washed away, but a moment of life, how can it be returned?

-Rabbi Tzvi Freeman
“Keep the Windows Open”
Based on letters and talks of the Rebbe
Rabbi M. M. Schneerson
Chabad.org

 

 

Uncategorized

Why Loving Each Other Isn’t Easy

4 Comments

A greater and more intense love than this (i.e., than the love which results from realizing that G-d is one’s true soul and life), a love which is likewise concealed in every soul of Israel as an inheritance from our ancestors, is that which is defined in Ra‘aya Mehemna, (in description of Moses’ divine service:) “Like a son who strives for the sake of his father and mother, whom he loves even more than his own body, soul and spirit, (… sacrificing his life for his father and mother in order to redeem them from captivity.”

This manner of service is not limited to Moses alone: it is within the province of every Jew,)

for “have we not all one Father?”

(Just as Moses possessed this love because G-d is his Father, so, too, every Jew can possess this love, for G-d is equally our Father.)

And although (one may ask), who is the man and where is he, who would dare presume in his heart to approach and attain even a thousandth part of the degree of love felt by Moses, “The Faithful Shepherd.”

Today’s Tanya Lesson (Listen online)
Likutei Amarim, middle of Chapter 44
By Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi (1745-1812)
founder of Chabad Chassidism
Elucidated by Rabbi Yosef Wineberg
Translated from Yiddish by Rabbi Levy Wineberg and Rabbi Sholom B. Wineberg
Edited by Uri Kaploun

I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. He who is a hired hand and not a shepherd, who does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and flees, and the wolf snatches them and scatters them. He flees because he is a hired hand and cares nothing for the sheep. I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the sheep. And I have other sheep that are not of this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd. For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life that I may take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down, and I have authority to take it up again. This charge I have received from my Father.”

–John 10:11-18 (ESV)

A few days ago, I wrote on the profound mystery of Christ’s love for the church. Not much later, I also described who we are in Christ as a tangible expression of that love. We are to love all humanity as God loves them (us), and have compassion for them in their troubles, but we are specifically to love each other as brothers and sisters in the Messiah:

A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” –John 13:34-35 (ESV)

Oddly enough, for some Christians, it’s easier to love strangers than others to also claim the name of Jesus Christ.

In part 3 of my “Who Are We in Christ” series, I set aside all of the theological and behavioral differences between different denominations, groups, and sects among the disciples of the Master, and focused with great intensity on what makes us all alike. It’s in our united vision of our love and obedience to the Master that we are truly his disciples, regardless of our surface differences.

When Jesus gave us the new commandment to love one another as he loves us, he may well have been considering the love the Good Shepherd has for his sheep. Only moments after he gave his new commandment, he also said “I and the Father are one” (John 10:30). We, among the body of believers, are also to be one; one in purpose and goal, if not always practice. That is why I previously described us all this way:

We are people who love those who are like us and those who are unlike us. We treat everyone the way we want to be treated as human beings. If someone has needs like food, water, or companionship, we do our best to provide for those needs, not just because the other person needs them, but for the sake of our love for God and His love for us. When we show this kind of love, we’re telling people this is how God loves all human beings. Our actions are our witness and speak much, much louder than all the sermons ever spoken and all the religious tracts and pamphlets ever shoved into undesiring hands.

If only these thoughts were at the forefront of all our desires and actions in the name of Christ. Sadly, they aren’t, at least not all the time. We very often focus on the differences between the different groups of believers within “mainstream Christianity” and also outside of what Christians might consider the norm, such as the Hebrew Roots movement. We erect fences between our various groups and then take theological pot shots at each other over those fences, which can’t help but accentuate our differences at the expense of our “oneness” in Christ.

There’s got to be a better way…and there is. The better way is suggested in the following words from an unpublished manuscript that is not yet ready to be openly discussed and reviewed:

I am going to propose a radical solution. This solution may not work for everyone—I do not believe that every Messianic Gentile would fit this call. It may not bear fruit in every single instance. But I am convinced that the great task and mission of the Gentile Hebrew Roots movement is not to form a new religion or a new denomination (though again, I believe that solid, grounded Messianic congregations—Jewish and Gentile—are necessary).

The great mission of the Messianic Gentile is to be that voice within the church that speaks gently but firmly against supersessionism and the doctrinal errors associated with it; that speaks toward the church’s connection with the land, the people, and the scriptures of Israel; that inspires people to connect with Jesus in a new and fresh way and to follow his teachings with unprecedented zeal.

This mission requires that many Messianic Gentiles get involved with churches. They must build and maintain a positive relationship with congregational Christianity, and affirm what is good and right in their mother faith. They must build real relationships with Christians and show them personally what it means to follow Jesus the Jewish Messiah.

The single outstanding advantage the (Gentile) Hebrew Roots movement has over traditional Christianity is in its grasp of the Jewishness of Jesus as Israel’s King and Messiah. The single outstanding disadvantage the Hebrew Roots movement labors under is in allowing that information to focus their attention on “minutiae” such as how to tie tzitzit, what foods are considered kosher, and whether or not it is permitted to drive to services on Shabbat. I’m not saying such questions are entirely unimportant, but in those topics being paramount, unity and love between different groups of disciples gets put on the back burner, usually forever.

We can change that, both those in the Hebrew Roots movement and those attached to the mainstream Christian church. We can decide to actually communicate with each other. We can decide to set differences aside and focus on similarities. Are not the Christian in the church and the Hebrew Roots person in the Shabbat congregation both commanded to do good to others, to feed the hungry, to visit the sick, to comfort the mourning? Are we all not commanded by the Master to love one another as he has loved us?

Considering the strife between different denominations within traditional Christianity, let alone the friction between Hebrew Roots and the church, we don’t seem to be doing a very good job at obeying the Messiah’s commandment. Particularly for Hebrew Roots or Messianic people, who take great pride in being “obedient to the commandments,” if you are not obeying the commandment to love, the rest of the Torah is meaningless to you.

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never ends. As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away. When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways. For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.

So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love. –1 Corinthians 13:1-13 (ESV)

Can we love our good shepherd but hate the other sheep? Being human, loving one another isn’t always easy. But being sheep of the good shepherd, who loved us with a love that cost him his life, if we aren’t willing to make sacrifices to love each other, then when we say we love him, we are lying.

Uncategorized

Who Are We in Christ, Part 3

11 Comments

Dear Rabbi,

If G-d is a mystery to us, beyond human reason and logic, then how can we relate to Him?

Answer:

You’re right, G-d is essentially unknowable. Yes, He makes Himself known to us through His miracles, His prophets, His Torah, and by the very act of creating and sustaining our world and our very existence. But none of that can really provide information that defines who He is. Because He cannot be defined. In the language of the Kabbalists, He is infinite, even beyond “the beginning that cannot be known.”

So how can we pray or have any relationship with a being so unknowable, so undefinable, He can hardly be called a being?

The answer is because our relationship with G-d is not measured by our capacity to understand Him, nor by heightened consciousness or any sublime ecstasy we claim to have from the experience of His presence. Our relationship to G-d is measured by what we do, by our firm adherence to the morals that He has established for us and by our integrity in our dealings with others.

One who claims he has one G-d, but cheats his fellow, has in fact two gods. One who claims he is godless, but believes in a fixed and immutable moral law is in fact a believer. Ultimately, G-d is in your life when you act G-dly—consistently following His ways in all you do. That is why He has given us His Torah, so that by following these instructions, we can bond with Him in our daily lives.

G-d is not an idea that can be grasped with the mind. G-d is real, and reality is grasped by real deeds.

-Rabbi Tzvi Freeman
“How Can I Relate to an Unknowable G-d?”
Learning and Values
Chabad.org

I know it seems strange to begin a blog post about “who we are in Christ” by quoting a question to and answer from a Chabad Rabbi, but bear with me. It’s relevant.

I wasn’t going to write a part 3 to this series (if you haven’t done so already, see part 1 and part 2 before continuing here), but I received a rather tongue-in-cheek request to do so:

Your gonna have to write a part 3 cause all the Christians are gonna be wondering what the hell your talking about Jew and gentile identity and why you aren’t talking about the spiritual blessings in the heavenlies and the freedom from condemnation and having the miraculous signs and authority to cast out demons and living forever etc. how does all the chiristian good stuff fit in here?

I’m only kinda joking. When I hear “in Christ” it makes me think of the time I spent in church!

OK, not much to build on from those statements, but it did make me realize that I didn’t provide much of a resolution to the question. On the other hand, there may not be much of a resolution to the question. That’s disappointing to hear, but that’s the nature of a relationship with God. We don’t get all the answers, at least in an intellectual fashion. To paraphrase Rabbi Freeman (and quote James T. Kirk), “We learn by doing.”

But what do we do?

For some Christians, the answer is, “we don’t have to do anything. We’re saved by grace.”

That’s true, but it’s hardly the end of the story…well, it is for some.

One of the criminals who were hanged railed at him, saying, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!” But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed justly, for we are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.” And he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” And he said to him, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” –Luke 23:39-43 (ESV)

For some Christians, this is the quintessential picture of salvation by grace. The thief on the cross, dying by inches with Jesus, had no time or ability to do anything except believe and confess his faith…and then expire by slow torture. He couldn’t sing praises (he would have been lucky to even catch his breath enough to make a whisper) to God, give to the poor, visit the sick, or anything else in response to his faith. He came to faith, confessed, and shortly thereafter, died.

And I suppose there’s nothing wrong with that, even if you come to faith at age 20 and then wait with your faith until age 80 or so to die.

But is who we are in the Messiah just realization of his reality, coming to faith, confessing, and then patiently waiting for the bus to Heaven?

OK, OK. You go to church on Sunday, listen to a sermon, sing hymns, give money when they pass around the plate, go to a Bible class, have coffee and donuts, and then go home. Maybe you go to a dinner and Bible study at your church on Wednesday nights, too. You celebrate Christmas. You get really worked up for Easter.

But is that it?

An observant Jew, who lives out religious details in a day-to-day manner, performing the mitzvot and following halachah might commit more “acts of righteousness” in a week than you will in an entire year.

Yes, I’m being unfair, but how many Christians out there believe that all there is to their faith is being saved by grace, going to church, and getting by until they finally die and go to Heaven to be with Jesus?

broken-crossProbably quite a few. More’s the pity.

That’s why it’s important to ask questions like, “who are we in Christ” and then start pursuing the answer with all available energy and concern. Some Christians won’t get this only because it doesn’t affect their salvation. But what if it’s not just all about salvation? What if “being saved” is only the beginning of the journey, not the conclusion?

Jonathan Stone recently wrote a blog post called Pilgrim’s Progress in which he discussed the matter of spiritual growth (or lack thereof, in my opinion). Stone says in part:

All around us the world is falling apart. We are overwhelmed with constant news of economic collapse, natural disasters, genocides, political wars, all sorts of crimes, starvation, extreme poverty and the sort. All of which reminds me of this, but you get the point. It is NOT the call of the pilgrim to stand idly by while people’s lives are shattered. However, it is the pilgrim’s call to continue on the path. And that path is a path that gets brighter and brighter as one progresses along.

This is a call to actually do something with your life of faith!

Wow! Really? What? What makes the path “get brighter?”

“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on his glorious throne. Before him will be gathered all the nations, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. And he will place the sheep on his right, but the goats on the left. Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’ –Matthew 25:31-40 (ESV)

You know, if you continue reading verses 41-46, you sort of get the idea that what you actually do for other people does affect your salvation. If you don’t feed the hungry, visit the sick and people in prison, and so on, you can expect an answer from Jesus like,“Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.”

If you claim to love God and still cheat someone or steal from someone, you have two gods.

Oh wow!

So, let’s go over this again. You get saved and then what are you supposed to do (assuming you aren’t nailed to a cross by big, metal spikes and getting ready to die)?

Feed the hungry.

Give water to the thirsty.

Welcome the stranger.

Clothe the unclothed.

Visit the sick and those in prison.

Don’t take that as a hard and fast “religious formula” whereby you perform exactly those deeds and because of that are promised a life in the world to come. Consider those behaviors as fitting into this general category:

And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. –Matthew 22:39 (ESV)

ReflectionA day or so ago, I was talking about love; how we are to love each other and how Jesus loves all of us. Paul described this kind of love in Ephesians 5:25-32 when he compared a husband’s love for his wife to Christ’s love for the church. Paul called it “a profound mystery.”

Here’s another one:

A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” –John 13:34-35 (ESV)

Add to the list, someone who makes peace with fellow Christians and who loves them.

So who are we in Christ?

We are people who love those who are like us and those who are unlike us. We treat everyone the way we want to be treated as human beings. If someone has needs like food, water, or companionship, we do our best to provide for those needs, not just because the other person needs them, but for the sake of our love for God and His love for us. When we show this kind of love, we’re telling people this is how God loves all human beings. Our actions are our witness and speak much, much louder than all the sermons ever spoken and all the religious tracts and pamphlets ever shoved into undesiring hands.

Now compare what the Bible says you’re supposed to be to that person you see in the bathroom mirror every morning. We know what Jesus says about who you’re supposed to be in Christ. Are you that person?

You should be able to answer that question now.

Uncategorized

Who Are We in Christ, Part 2

13 Comments

The task for defining the identity of Gentile converts was largely left to the Apostle Paul, the self-described “apostle to the Gentiles.” Modern social-scientific studies on the Bible have called Paul an “entrepreneur of identity” or a “social entrepreneur” who was engaged in forming the identity of his Gentile converts, creating for them a definition of who they were and mapping their relationships with other social groups. To do this, Paul used some metaphors that were drawn from the Old Testament and others that were drawn from Roman society. Taken together, they help give substance and definition to the identity of Gentile believers in Jesus. We will find that even though they do not become Jewish, neither do they remain an undifferentiated part of their pagan society. Paul “invents” a new identity for them and uses variegated imagery to describe that identity. Romans 4:16–17 and Galatians 3:7–9 contain one of Paul’s most powerful metaphors for describing Gentile identity. Paul claims that believing Gentiles are children of the forefather of the Jewish people, Abraham himself! His argument is that since Abraham believed when he was uncircumcised, he is not only the father of the Jews, his biological descendants, but also of all those throughout history who have had “the faith of Abraham.”

It is worthwhile to note that Paul leaves out the other two forefathers of the Jewish people, Isaac and Jacob. By limiting Gentile identity to children of Abraham, he makes it clear that these Gentiles are not part of “Israel” – a name reserved for Jacob’s descendants. However, God promised that Abraham would become the father of many nations, as recorded in Genesis 17:4. Paul sees the believing Gentiles as a fulfillment of that promise. They are still members of the “nations” (Gr. ethnē, Heb. goyim) but their new identity allows them to be simultaneously children of Abraham (and therefore heirs to the promise of Abraham) and members of the nations.

Paul takes great pains to emphasize that the covenant of promise which helps define Gentile identity in Christ is the Abrahamic covenant and not the Sinai covenant. His repeated contrast of these two covenants, especially in Galatians, is meant to drive home the point that though the Gentile converts are children of Abraham, they are not children of Israel, nor did they stand at the foot of Mount Sinai and receive the Torah.

Despite their shared ancestry in Abraham and their shared inheritance in the promise to Abraham, believing Gentiles and Jews have differing obligations to God. Paul also includes his Gentile converts as citizens of a kingdom. Variously described as the “kingdom of God” (1 Corinthians 6:9–10; Galatians 5:19–21), the “kingdom of light” (Colossians 1:12), and the “kingdom of the Son” (Colossians 1:13), Paul uses “kingdom” to indicate the Gentile believer’s eschatological political situation. In other words, who is the Gentile believer’s ultimate authority? Is he still nothing more than a subject of the Roman emperor, while the Jewish people have an eschatological King to look forward to? Paul’s answer is that Gentile believers, like their Jewish brethren, are included in the reign of Jesus Christ. He is their King, and they are his citizens. They have transferred their allegiance from the reign of Caesar to the reign of Christ, a reign that will come into its fullness at his return. This metaphor may underlie the language of citizenship in a commonwealth in Ephesians 2, discussed below. Paul used the imagery of slavery and freedom as well. He regarded Gentile idolaters as “slaves to sin” (Romans 6:20–21) and to “the weak and worthless elementary principles of the world” (Galatians 4:9). Typical of Jewish attitudes toward idolatry, Paul associated it with all kinds of immoral behavior—behavior that led naturally from idolatry, and that was in some way an involuntary consequence of idolatry, dictated by God (Romans 1:18–32). This status of slavery has been removed through obedience to Christ (Romans 6:17–18). The Gentile believers are now free from sin and slaves to obedience (v. 16), to righteousness (v. 19), and to God (v. 22). Paul describes this process as redemption (apolytrosis), a word normally used to describe the ransom, or buying back, of prisoners of war or captive slaves. Paul envisions his Gentile converts as more than just freed slaves; they are adopted children, brought into God’s family (Galatians 4:5).

Another metaphor Paul uses is the term “in Christ” (Romans 8:1; 1 Corinthians 1:30; 2 Corinthians 5:17). In contrast to those who are “in Adam” (1 Corinthians 15:22), those who are in Christ “belong to the new aeon with its freedom and life.” Gentile believers are no longer identified with the old way of life that characterizes sinful humanity; “in Christ” they participate in the eschatological community that Christ inaugurated, the community that foreshadows the ultimate redemptive era, the World to Come.

“Salvation” or the idea of being “saved” is very common in the Pauline corpus and is probably the most popular term used today to describe the action that brings someone into the community of faith—and rightly so. Believers are saved, or rescued, from this world, just as the Jewish people were saved from slavery in Egypt or the captivity in Babylon.

-Also from the book I’m reading that I can’t talk about yet

Updated! See the end of this blog post for details.

I couldn’t resist a “part 2” since these concepts and this discussion won’t leave me alone right now. I suppose it’s an issue that is really at the core of most of Christianity. Who are we in Christ? What does a Christian identity mean to me? What does it mean for a non-Jewish person to accept discipleship under the Jewish Messiah and King?

More plainly put, just who in the heck do we think we are?

Actually, that last question is really part of the problem. There’s (in all likelihood) a difference (probably a whopping big one) between who God thinks we are in Christ and who we think we are in Christ/Messiah (depending on our particular denominational orientation). It’s kind of interesting to think that Paul was the one to actually figure out (or make up) an answer to “the Gentile question.” I mentioned this in yesterday’s part 1 of Who Are We in Christ and decided I should allow the “other shoe to drop,” so to speak.

For the sake of some folks in the Hebrew Roots movement, I thought I should include what should be (but isn’t) obvious, in that if we claim a connection to Israel through Abraham, as our mysterious author tells us, “Paul leaves out the other two forefathers of the Jewish people, Isaac and Jacob.” Interesting, eh? If Abraham is “the father of many nations,” then he is father to more than just Israel. Islam also claims him, and because of Paul, so does Christianity. I seriously doubt most Christians (or any Hebrew Roots folks) would seriously consider Islam to be part of Israel through Abraham, so how can we justify Christianity being synonymous with Israel?

Or can we?

The Christian church hasn’t had to struggle with its identity for a long time. For many centuries, it (we) have been secure in the knowledge that we were the spiritual inheritors of all of the covenant promises because the Law (and the Jewish people along with it) was nailed to the cross of Christ and we were adopted by God’s grace to supplant the descendents of Sinai.

Except that isn’t so clear anymore.

Periodically, I become aware of articles that describe a general exodus from the church, especially by young singles and families who feel their needs are not being met. Some of those needs are spiritual, and the church in the early 21st century, appears to be leaning toward a kind of “entertainment” model to bring in and keep parishioners. Except that may not be what they really want or rather, what they (we) really need.

Some of those disaffected Christians make their way into the Hebrew Roots movement, hoping to find a deeper understanding of their faith and a richer and more robust God than the one they left behind in the Christian Bible class. We all have a tremendous need to feel close to God and sometimes we do that by asking questions and posing puzzles the church (or most of it) doesn’t want to deal with. Hebrew Roots, on the surface, seems to offer those kinds of answers, but it’s sort of an illusion. For a lot of people, “different” means “better” and it takes them a long time to realize that such may not be the case. Also the “stuff” that goes along with Judaism (Messianic and otherwise) is very compelling.

Wearing fringes makes you closer to God. Avoiding ham sandwiches makes you closer to God. Wearing a “beanie” makes you closer to God. It’s really cool stuff. But is it your stuff, or are the Gentiles entering Hebrew Roots merely attracted to playing with someone else’s toys because the toys look brand new, are from different toy stores, and are really cool?

I suppose that’s kind of a mean statement, but I think that fits some Hebrew Roots Gentiles.

For the rest, I think you’re like me. You really do feel there’s a larger reality to who you are and who God is than you’ve been presented with so far. However, I exited traditional Christianity, entered, and then (eventually) existed One Law because it didn’t satisfy what I was looking for either. Ultimately, I had to conclude that “doing Jewish” wasn’t who I really am and that whoever the first century Gentile disciples were, their identity wasn’t “doing Jewish” either.

There’s a mystery that needs to be solved and I think there’s an answer available. Maybe it’s not the final answer, but it beats settling for someone else’s identity because it’s not easy to find your (our) own. If the identity of the Gentile disciple of the Jewish Messiah isn’t in your local Baptist, Lutheran, or non-denominational church, and it’s not in assuming a Jewish identity with all the “bells and whistles” (minus Talmud which tends to put most Hebrew Roots people off), then we may need to start digging a little deeper.

I think enlisting the aid of some reliable Hebrew Roots and Messianic Jewish teachers is a good way to start. If folks, such as my (presently) anonymous author, are taking the time to tell us who Gentiles aren’t in the world of the Jewish King, I think they’ll be more than happy to help us discover who we really are in Christ.

Stay tuned. My commentary on this week’s Torah portion speaks more to this issue and greatly expands upon it. Please give it a read and let me know what you think.