Weight

March 14, 2013 James Pyles 6 Comments

Behold, to the Lord your God belong heaven and the heaven of heavens, the earth with all that is in it. Yet the Lord set his heart in love on your fathers and chose their offspring after them, you above all peoples, as you are this day. Circumcise therefore the foreskin of your heart, and be no longer stubborn.

–Deuteronomy 10:14-16 (ESV)

“Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you tithe mint and dill and cumin, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faithfulness.”

–Matthew 23:23 (ESV)

I’ve been reminded lately that blogging isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. No, don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere (I hear a few disappointed sighs in the background). But I agree with one of my recent critics that we need to focus on more than just words and in particular, more than just certain, oft-repeated conversations.

Usually we think of negativity – the tendency to criticize, blame, hate, fear, or be depressed – as a psychological disposition. “Some people are just upbeat; I’m not.”

It sounds as neutral as saying, “Some people are blonde; some are brunette.”

But what if you viewed negativity as a spiritual disease?

-Sara Yoheved Rigler
“The Danger in Your Head”
Aish.com

This isn’t the only message I’ve received on this theme lately.

We live in an age of addictions. I grew up hearing about drug addicts, and had a brother-in-law who died from an overdose. Other people are addicted to food, and others to alcohol. The reason for some addictions is physical, as in the case of drugs or cigarettes. Other addictions are psychological, as people seek to escape the more painful aspects of their lives. I have noticed over many years, that some people are addicted to negativity.

Like most addictions, people who are addicted to negativity mask it with the notion that they are doing something noble, or filled with righteous indignation. Indeed, there are people who are noble, and are filled with righteous indignation who seek to challenge the status quo and change society for good, like the people who fought for civil rights for various groups.

-Rabbi Dr. Michael Schiffman
“Addiction to Negativity”
Drschiffman’s Blog

Yeah, that describes me. It also describes some of the people who criticize me. To be fair, once we get on our white chargers and lift up our lances, we start tilting at windmills with a ferocity and obsessive determination that would make Don Quixote look like a paragon of calm and reason.

Dr. Schiffman ends his blog post by saying, “In the end, if you let them drag you down, you can’t be of help to anyone else.” When he says “them,” he means addictions, but he could just as well mean “negative conversations” or “negative people.” What he really could have said is “when you let yourself drag you down…”

Sometimes negative people come unbidden to my blog but often I really am asking for it. I’ve seen a nice, juicy windmill in the distance and it seems to just call to me, like a pint of Guinness calls to an alcoholic. So I slap on my armor, hoist myself up on my big, noble steed (no doubt with the help of an imaginary Pancho Sanza), grab my weapons, and it’s off I go to joust with ethereal foes on the fields of honor. Then I tick someone off and they come to my blog and complain at me.

So what have I accomplished?

Or more to the point, Oh duh!

Judaism always strives to make the mundane sacred. If we elevate physical acts like eating by making a blessing, then why not cleaning?

When we do ‘bedikat chametz,’ the traditional search for bread that is performed with a candle and feather, we are searching our inner selves. The wick of the candle represents our body, while the flame that always strives to aim upward is our soul. The bread (the chametz) is our own puffed up ego. It is our sense of self-importance that often blocks the soul.

So when we look in those deep, dark places for bread, we are searching our inner selves for our ego. When we find the chametz, we then burn it with the flame, symbolically purging ourselves of our ego and liberating our soul.

-Nicole Bem
“Spiritual Scrubbing”
Aish.com

Judaism schedules numerous events on the calendar for “spiritual scrubbing” but that schedule isn’t written very well on the Christian soul. More’s the pity.

Even having participated in Judaism and “psuedo-Judaism” over the years, I haven’t really gotten used to it. It is said that we should repent one day before we die, but since we never know when we’ll die, we should repent constantly. Christians know this but it is part of human nature to put off what we need to do until the last second. Problem is, as I’ve already said, we never know when the last second is going to tick away and expire.

What were those “weightier matters of the Law?”

Justice
Mercy
Faithfulness

I recently complained that bloggers representing a certain minority variant of Christianity fail to actually talk about these “weightier matters.” I’ve been told that the “ideals, theologies, and doctrines of an infant and growing movement” are more important or at least more interesting to the audience on the web than the aforementioned justice, mercy, and faithfulness. I hope that’s not true because if it is, then it’s a sad and pathetic commentary on that movement, and people consuming such material have lost their focus far more than I ever could.

It’s been so long since I’ve blogged about losing my focus that I can’t even find my previous write-up in a search. I guess that means it’s long overdue.

What are the weightier matters of Torah? Justice, mercy, and faithfulness. Many of the final exhortations of Paul’s letters also focus on these matters.

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me—practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you.

–Philippians 4:8-9 (ESV)

As both Passover and Easter approach, I think it’s a good time to clean out my head, my heart, and my spirit. It’s a good time to rejuvenate myself and to focus my attention on what really matters. I can give out all the advice in the world about what I think others in the religious blogosphere should do, but that’s really meaningless. If they don’t know what God wants of them by now, nothing I can say will make any difference. However, I can make a lot of difference in what I say and do.

But avoid foolish controversies, genealogies, dissensions, and quarrels about the law, for they are unprofitable and worthless.

–Titus 3:9 (ESV)

I really need to take this piece of advice on board, because the adherence to these “foolish controversies” just consumes the web. I think there’s a better note to write for my virtual “message in a bottle.”

In his article Love Humanity, Rabbi Noah Weinberg provides a list as a way to answer the question, Why is “Loving Humanity” a Way to Wisdom?

In order to realize your own potential, you have to love humanity. Their success is your success, too.
The more you have love in your life, the more happy and efficient you’ll be.
If you don’t appreciate the phenomenon of human beings, you’re missing out on one of life’s greatest pleasures.
Loving others connects you to the world, to all facets of creation.
Love helps you get out of the confines of “me” and into the expansive “we.”
Prioritize your love. Appreciate the relative value of each virtue.
Realize that all human beings are God’s children.

If I write more like this in my “morning meditations,” I probably won’t attract very many readers and probably most people won’t comment or reply (although you are certainly encouraged to…hint, hint). People usually respond when they’re upset, not when they’re encouraged (though I’m trying to change that in myself for the better). I understand the need to write blogs and papers on theology, doctrine, and dogma. I know we need to provide clarification and solid Biblical research and teaching on what we understand the Bible to be saying to us.

But beyond that, what we really need is a guide to the simple way of living and doing the Word and Will of God. Dismissing people in favor of “things” and “mechanics” isn’t doing that. After all, how much theology do you really need to understand to volunteer to play with the little ones in the church’s nursery on Sunday morning, or to visit one of the older church members who is sick and in the hospital?

Some laws are heavier than others. They require more “strength” to lift. But the reward is that when you perform the “weightier matters of Torah” on a regular basis, they become very light…and this also lightens the heaviness of your soul…and of my soul.

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The Terrible Living God

March 13, 2013 James Pyles 7 Comments

Many people express gratitude to the Almighty for being saved from desperate and problematic situations. But surely they’d have preferred that the problem would have never have arisen in the first place!

This, however, is not the proper attitude. The purpose of all problems is that they should serve as a means for a person to become closer to the Almighty. Both the problems – and the solutions – are part of the Divine plan to help elevate you.

The next time you are faced with a problem, think for a moment: “This problem enables me to become closer to my Creator.”

-Rabbi Zelig Pliskin
“Daily Lift #756: Problems Bring Us Closer”
Aish.com

The world is not obstructing you. It is challenging you.

It knows its deepest treasures can be revealed only by the deepest faculties of your soul, and it taps those powers by providing isometrics for the soul.

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

Gosh, that all sounds so reasonable, so wonderful, so illuminating, so wise. I bet there are plenty of Christian writers who give similar advice. Just reading the words, I can imagine many other religions and philosophies also offer such an outlook and I don’t doubt that there are just tons and tons of books, including secular self-help books, that say more or less the same thing.

But when you’re actually having real problems, you may not immediately think in a cheerful inner voice, “Gee, this is a challenge God is giving me to help elevate me and bring me closer to Him.” You more likely are praying to God something like, “HELP!”

I’m not saying that Rabbi Pliskin and Rabbi Freeman are wrong, just that such enlightened perspectives (and the vast majority of self-help aids on the market) fail to take real human beings with real worries, fears, and anxieties into account. They don’t consider the actual, lived experience of a person who is recovering from a serious accident or illness, who has just heard the news that a loved one is terminally ill, who has just had their house foreclosed, who has just had…

…you get the idea.

My father said: Truth is the middle path. An inclination to the right, to be overly stringent with oneself and find faults or sins not in accord with the truth, or an inclination to the left, to be overly indulgent, covering one’s faults or being lenient in demands of avoda out of self-love – both these ways are false.

“Today’s Day”
Thursday, 27 Adar I, 5703
Compiled by the Lubavitcher Rebbe
Translated by Yitschak Meir Kagan
Chabad.org

Life, like truth, runs a middle path. Most of us aren’t incredibly holy and elevated people and most of us, if we have a spiritual awareness at all, aren’t feeding on the bottom of the river with the catfish either.

But people with a spiritual awareness can often drift off center, and when hard times come, we can either treat ourselves harshly, like we must have done something horrible to deserve this tragedy, or we may think that it’s totally unfair of God to let bad things happen to us and that He should cut us some slack. I’ve experienced both and “lived in” both places, and in my experience, hitting that “middle ground” is a very hard thing to do. It seems to be more reasonable and takes a lot less energy to just let yourself go emotionally and spiritually “limp” and throw yourself on the mercy of the court, which in this case is God.

But then Rabbi Freeman says:

There’s no such thing as defeat.

There’s always another chance. To believe in defeat is to believe that there is something, a certain point in time that did not come from Above.

Know that G‑d doesn’t have failures. If things appear to worsen, it is only as part of them getting better. We fall down only in order to bounce back even higher.

Kind of makes me wonder if Rabbi Freeman has ever been in a situation where he’s felt defeated. Probably so, but one doesn’t successfully write motivational missives by admitting to such a thing.

You may gather from the topic in today’s meditation that I’ve been having a bad time lately, but that’s not actually true. However, I do sometimes react when I read advice articles or columns that I think are overly “perky.” I’m not sure that “religious people” always know how to cut someone enough slack to be compassionate without being so “mushy” that they (we) become enabling.

On the other hand, I think that there are times when we need to be confident in our faith and, in spite of the problems that are kicking us in the teeth, we need to persevere and push on. Certainly people like Brother Yun have had to do just that over and over again while being tortured, while being in prison, while being on the run from the law, while being hungry, while being homeless, and all of his other experiences as a Pastor and an Evangelist in Communist China.

But I also think there are times when the weight of a thousand, thousand problems, pressures, hurts, injuries, depressions, and hopeless situations land with a solid “thunk” on our chests and threaten to smash us flatter than a hockey puck and all we can to is cry out to God. Sometimes we can’t even do that and as we feel faith and even life oozing out of us, the only thing left is to give in and say, “God, do as You will,” and then let whatever’s going to happen, happen.

The trick is to know the difference. Neat trick. I wish I could learn it.

Or maybe I don’t. I’ve noticed that those people who have sincerely asked God to use them in a powerful way often experience trials and circumstances that were and are a lot tougher than they anticipated. Brother Yun made such a request of God and if you’ve read my review of his book (see the link above), you’ll know that he suffered tremendously.

For that matter, look at the lives of Paul, Peter, John, and the other apostles. Most of all, look at the life of Jesus.

During a sermon a few weeks ago, my Pastor told a story. The story was about a Pastor who was giving a preaching series on discipleship. The series took many weeks to complete and was very thorough. When the Pastor finished his series, one of the long-time church members approached him and said:

Thank you Pastor for giving such an informative and insightful sermon on discipleship. Now that I understand what a disciple is and what it takes to be a good one, I don’t want to be a disciple anymore.

That’s supposed to inspire a “knowing” chuckle from the audience.

We always say that we’ll pick up our cross and follow Jesus anywhere, but how true is that? Do we put limits on how far we’ll go for our faith? Do we ever ask Jesus when we’re following him, why the territory seems to be getting so gloomy, scary, and dangerous looking?

Probably. Expecially in America and other Western nations, Christians aren’t used to having to work too hard at that “picking up cross and following” thing. Frankly, we should be afraid of it because we don’t really understand the implications, and if we did, we wouldn’t want them.

“Simon, Simon, behold, Satan demanded to have you, that he might sift you like wheat, but I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned again, strengthen your brothers.” Peter said to him, “Lord, I am ready to go with you both to prison and to death.” Jesus said, “I tell you, Peter, the rooster will not crow this day, until you deny three times that you know me.”

–Luke 22:31-34 (ESV)

I think we all know how that one turned out. Actually, in an ultimate sense, it turned out well, but not in the short run.

So what does that mean for us? Should we limit what we do for God because of the potential consequences? Should we stiffen our spines and just take what God gives us, no matter what, and be happy about it? I’d like to say the latter, but it scares me. I know faith demands the latter, but what will happen?

Becoming a Christian is like getting married. When the idea comes up and even as you approach the wedding day, everything seems great. You look forward to it. You see only the rewards. Then the big day comes, there’s the ceremony, all of your friends and family are there, you have the reception, you get lots of gifts and attention, sure there’s stress involved, but it’s hardly noticable in the whirlwind of activity.

Then there’s the honeymoon, setting up housekeeping, everything seems wonderful at first, you see only the good.

Then you have your first fight. A year passes, children a born, other years pass, you change, your spouse changes, and something interesting happens.

Stuff that you never, ever imagined would happen, happens. It could be stuff people, your parents, your Pastor, a counselor, tried to tell you would happen, but you didn’t listen or figured it would be no big deal. It could be stuff that you never imagined would occur in a million years. Stuff that only happens to other people. Stuff that you didn’t even think was possible.

But all that stuff makes your marriage hard!

You even think of divorce.

Actually, lots and lots of people get divorced and lots and lots of people stop being Christians and leave the church. End of story. It was too hard to be married. It’s too hard to be a disciple of Christ.

But then there are many, many other marriages that last thirty, forty, fifty, sixty or more years. Some of these marriages have managed to retain the love and devotion that the couple felt from the start, although the “magic” comes and goes periodically throughout the relationship. And then there are many, many other marriages where the relationship lasts just as long but the couple have drifted apart. Maybe some big problem forcefully inserted the initial wedge between them and then they traveled in different directions or maybe the initial “disconnect” was so subtle that neither husband nor wife noticed.

And now they live in the same house, eat the same meals, maybe even sit on the same sofa and watch the same TV shows, but they are actually living two separate lives. They never fight. They never argue. They never cuddle. They never make love. They’re just there.

“‘I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were either cold or hot! So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth. For you say, I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing, not realizing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked. I counsel you to buy from me gold refined by fire, so that you may be rich, and white garments so that you may clothe yourself and the shame of your nakedness may not be seen, and salve to anoint your eyes, so that you may see. Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline, so be zealous and repent. Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me. The one who conquers, I will grant him to sit with me on my throne, as I also conquered and sat down with my Father on his throne. He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.’”

–Revelation 3:15-22 (ESV)

That probably describes a lot of Christians and a lot of Christian churches. The real tragedy is that these folks actually want it that way. A lukewarm bath is comfortable. Kind of like Goldilocks and the porridge. Not too hot and not too cold.

And not too demanding, stressful, or dangerous.

Lots of Christians describe themselves as “on fire for the Lord.” But fire burns out. Coals grow cold. Fuel turns to ashes.

How do we respond? First off, we should be careful what we ask for. Secondly, we should ask to be built up, so when God really does ask for something outrageous and spectactular from us, it doesn’t come as a complete shock. We’ve been prepared.

We should ask for mercy. Paul asked three times that his “thorn” (whatever it may have been) be removed from him, but the Lord said that his grace was all Paul needed. Pray that when the moment comes, we can let the Lord’s grace be all that we need as well.

And again, “The Lord will judge his people.” It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.

–Hebrews 10:30-31 (ESV)

Each of us is fighting a hard battle in our lives. Pray that God will show compassion and mercy to us all, for if we haven’t realized it yet, we have all failed and will all fail…and then fall into the hands of the living God.

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Intermarriage After Thirty Years

March 12, 2013 James Pyles 17 Comments

Firstly, I must tell you how impressed I was by your honesty and sensitivity – especially, by what you wrote at the end about not wanting to convert just for him.

Here are my thoughts on the matter.

First of all, even though it is most gracious of you to agree to raise his children as Jews, there really wouldn’t be any point in it, for the children of a non-Jewish mother, (as wonderful as you may be) are not Jewish, even if the father is Jewish. This is the law of Judaism as has been handed down to us generation to generation for thousands of years.

So there is really only one of two choices.

A sincere conversion on your part, or breaking up as difficult as that may be.

From the “Ask the Rabbi” series
“Intermarriage Correspondence from a Non-Jew”
Aish.com

If you’ve been reading my blog for more than a day or two, you know that I often quote from Jewish religious or philosophical sources (and often from Aish.com) to create a foundation from which I then “dovetail” and expand upon to make some sort of daily commentary. As an intermarried Christian (my wife is Jewish), I have an attraction to Jewish thought and perspective as they apply (surprisingly enough) to my faith.

But that doesn’t mean Judaism and I don’t butt heads more than once in a while. The Rabbi’s suggestion to the (formerly) Catholic young woman about possibly marrying her Jewish boyfriend is just one of those “head butting” occasions.

But it’s a difficult discussion. I know the dangers intermarriage and assimilation pose to Jewish continuation and particularly on the children produced in such a marriage. The journey my own children have had to negotiate has not been an easy one and although they all self-identify as Jews (and are Jews according to halachah because their mother is Jewish), they are barely, if at all, observant of the mitzvot. I can’t say that my own home is observant either, through I’d like to support and encourage my spouse to live a more traditionally religious Jewish life. I can’t though, because she is “in charge” of her Jewishness, I’m not.

But when I read the “Ask the Rabbi’s” comment regarding the setting aside of a relationship between a Jewish and non-Jewish couple, I began to see red. My wife and I have been married for over thirty years and I have no intention of disrupting our relationship for the sake of a string of advice, even though it is dedicated to Jewish survival.

Hillel the Sage was able to remain patient even when someone purposely tried to provoke him. He felt no irritation whatsoever about any matter. There was no arousal of anger at all. This is what it means to be completely free from anger.

The level of Hillel is the level we should each strive for as regards to not getting angry. Of course it is not easy. But the first step is to increase your motivation and be totally resolved to conquer anger. Then feel joy with every drop of improvement!

-Rabbi Zelig Pliskin
“Daily Lift #755: Being Free From Anger”
Aish.com

It can be tough enough being intermarried and interfaith without reminders of what could have gone better and how many Jews are less than thrilled about our union. It’s not particularly apparent that we’re intermarried when we’re in public together, but I sometimes get the same feelings that an interracial couple might get when they receive stares from people who disapprove of “mixing the races” (and yes, it still happens). While I understand the perspectives of the Rabbis and realize the pitfalls of intermarriage, this is still my family and she is still my wife and all this is personal, not just some theoretical or theological puzzle to solve.

The irony is that it is because I’m intermarried that I dearly cling to my current perspective on the relationship of believing Jews and Gentiles in the body of Messiah, what we mean to each other, our roles, our understanding of Torah, and who we are in God. I’ve written whole commentaries based on our marriage such as Being Married to the Girl with the Jewish Soul and Cherishing Her Yiddisher Neshamah. Being a couple isn’t just a marital status, it is part of my very identity and woven into the fabric of my being.

This isn’t to say that we don’t argue or that we have a perfect marriage. We aren’t perfect. We get on each other’s nerves and we both have our “moods,” but after over three decades of living together, sleeping together, raising three children together, playing with our grandson together, eating, cleaning, fighting, traveling, and making a home together, we’re together.

Among other resources, I follow Julie Wiener’s (her photo is on the left) In the Mix blog at The Jewish Week. Although I don’t have anything like the same intermarried experience Ms. Wiener and her husband (and children) have, it sometimes helps to realize that not only are there other intermarried couples out there, but that they’re not doing so badly either. Nearly a year ago, Wiener wrote a blog post called Shiny Happy Intermarried People.

The ending of that article goes like this:

Reminds me of when my “In the Mix” column first came out six years ago and a woman wrote to complain that it was bad enough I was writing in The Jewish Week about being intermarried, but the fact that I was happy — and actually smiling in my photo — was truly offensive.

Now, as you can imagine, I took issue with Alina using The Jewish Week as an example of media writing only negative things about intermarriage. Especially because the column she links to is Jack Wertheimer’s, which was a guest column and which I, a Jewish Week editor, responded to on The Jewish Week website, on THIS BLOG, which has as its sole focus realistically depicting intermarried life.

Not that I’m offended or anything, Alina. Just intrigued.

For any of you readers, Jewish or Christian (or anyone else) who are offended that I’m intermarried, have been intermarried for thirty years, and plan to stay intermarried to the same Jewish woman for the rest of my life, I am truly sorry. When we got married, neither one of us were religious and we didn’t give a second thought to what it would all mean ten, twenty, thirty or more years down the road. Maybe we should have, but we didn’t. Who knew?

But we are who we are and while you may complain about us, I insist that you don’t dismiss us. We’re here and we’re real. There are a lot of us and what was done cannot be undone, for good or for ill. Hopefully, we’ll have a seder in our home this year. I plan on going to Easter services at my church for the first time in many years. That may seem like a strange combination or an awful contradiction but it’s not. A Christian/Jewish intermarriage may not be the ideal circumstance and you may not want to experience it yourself. Our intermarriage has its pitfalls and trapdoors, but our marriage and our family isn’t strange or bizarre or bad. It’s just our life and its just who we are.

And God is still her God and my God and what He has brought together let no one tear apart.

Oh, and our thirty-first wedding anniversary is on Wednesday, April 3rd. Deal with it.

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Sharing the Birthday Boy’s Chair

March 11, 2013 James Pyles 16 Comments

Supersessionism is when a Theology attempts to push Jews out of their seat. Inclusionist Messianic Judaism (i.e. One Law) says that Jews remain Jews and remain obligated to the Sinaitic Covenant. Thus, it can’t be considered supersessionist–because Jews keep their seat. They remain the older brother–and that means being a role model and also teaching the younger, adopted brother (Gentiles) how to understand and practice Torah.

-Commentary from a Hebrew Roots blog post

OK, I’ll bite. I know I shouldn’t, but I will. Like the politically correct pundits and visionaries popular in the mainstream media, the term “inclusionist” seems all nice and cozy, but it doesn’t always fit well when translated into other venues.

Do I believe in “inclusionism?” First, we need a definition of “inclusion.”

The act of including or the state of being included.

Something included.

There were also entries for how inclusion is used in Geology, Biology, Computer Science, and Mathematics, but they didn’t seem particularly relevant to the conversation.

Of course, I support inclusion as applied to equal access to resources in society such as education, jobs, housing, and the “pursuit of happiness,” but that has to be filtered through a few things such as “citizenship.” If you’re a citizen in this country, you have rights, such as the right to vote, for example. If you aren’t a citizen, your rights aren’t the same and sometimes you don’t have access to the identical resources in society as do citizens.

With that in mind, let’s return to the specifics of the subject at hand.

Bob (Craig T. Nelson): You need an invitation?
Lucius (Samuel L. Jackson): I’d like one, yes.

-from the film The Incredibles (2004)

I’ve written about supersessionism or replacement theology many, many times before, including in a four-part series in Messiah Journal last year. As a Christian husband married to a Jewish wife, I am very sensitive (some might say, “overly sensitive”) to the basic tenet that has been supported in the majority of the history of the church that Christianity has replaced Judaism in all of the covenant promises God made to Israel. In essence, the church is supposed to be the “New Israel” and Judaism and the Jewish people are now “has beens” relegated by God to the backwaters of eternity.

However, according to the person I quoted above, supersessionism is “solved” when Christians don’t try to push Jews “out of their seat” but rather, try to crowd into the same seat with them. Does that work? I don’t think so.

I’ve blogged and blogged about how this doesn’t work in so many different ways that you’d think one of them would “stick” by now, but as Rabbi Dr. Michael Schiffman recently said, maybe the person commenting or I or both of us are “addicted to negativity.” I hope not, but there’s something about misinformation and disinformation that gets under my skin.

Let’s accept the existing metaphor used by my source, that supersessionism is the pushing of Jews (presumably by Christians) out of their seat, or their accepted identity and role as defined by the Bible and God. What does it do to push the Jews out of their seat and to sit in it instead as usurpers?

Usurp, as a transitive verb is:

to seize and hold (as office, place, or powers) in possession by force or without right (usurp a throne)

to take or make use of without right (usurped the rights to her life story)

to take the place of by or as if by force : supplant (must not let stock responses based on inherited prejudice usurp careful judgment)

Used as an intransitive verb:

to seize or exercise authority or possession wrongfully

Boiling it all down, it would be as if I lead a political coup in a nation, kicked the King off the throne and replaced the King as ruler of the nation.

OK, I get that and I agree. I have no right to replace the King. The metaphor seems to hold up pretty well when compared to what we understand about supersessionism.

But what about sharing the throne? What if I lead a political coup and demand that the King share the throne with me? I’m not kicking him out of his chair, so to speak, but I’m demanding that he share the throne with me, insisting that I have rights to sit in his chair, too. Do I really have a right to do that? Not if I don’t have legitimate claim to royal authority. If I do, then either I’m the rightful King and the person now on the throne is a pretender, or I am in line for the throne once it becomes available.

Neither of those metaphors works very well when we apply them to the covenant relationship Judaism enjoys relative to God. In fact, as Gentiles “grafted in” to the Jewish olive tree, we don’t suddenly become Jewish and thus have rights to “share the throne” in the manner of those who were born as “Princes.” If Christians aren’t Jews, then no matter how much we share access to God and to salvation and a place in the world to come, we don’t actually become Jewish and thus, hold an identity and responsibilities exactly equal to those who originally came to be a light to the world.

Let’s change the picture a little bit. There’s a children’s birthday party. Naturally the “birthday boy” gets the seat at the head of the table and is served a double portion of ice cream and cake because, after all, he’s the birthday boy, this is his home, and it’s his special time.

Now let’s say that one of the other kids gets jealous. Maybe his birthday has come and gone and he didn’t get such a nice party or maybe he just sees all the attention the birthday boy is getting and he wants it, too. He can push the birthday boy out of his chair and try to take the double portion of ice cream and cake, but as we see from our above metaphors, we know it’s wrong to do so. Let’s say the jealous birthday boy knows it’s wrong, too.

But, hey! What if we “share?”

So the jealous boy goes to sit in the same chair as the birthday boy, “shoehorning” himself into a very limited space meant to be occupied only by one person. He brings his own spoon and insists that the birthday boy share his seat, his cake, his ice cream, and his presents.

Does that seem right to you?

No, of course not. Only the birthday boy is the birthday boy. Even if the jealous boy was born on the same day (and he probably wasn’t), it’s still not his party, his cake, his ice cream, or his presents. He gets his own seat, his own cake, and his own ice cream because he’s an invited guest. Maybe he’s even a special guest because he’s the birthday boy’s best friend (think David and Jonathan). Maybe after the party is over, the birthday boy will share all his gifts and play with him. All the jealous boy has to do is accept who he is, where he’s seated, and be kind and patient. All the jealous boy has to do is realize that it’s the birthday boy’s day, not his own.

That’s what happens at most birthday parties for children. We teach children who is the special person who is having the birthday and who are the guests. We teach them that only special friends and relatives are invited to be guests at the banquet. There are other kids who don’t know the birthday boy who don’t get invited and don’t get ice cream, cake, and a door prize.

If the jealous boy realizes all that, then he realizes that even though he’s not the birthday boy, he’s special too, and he has no reason at all to be jealous. By being rude and trying to “share” something that clearly doesn’t belong to him, he risks losing everything. By understanding that he is special and a friend and a guest, he will someday gain everything.

Now he told a parable to those who were invited, when he noticed how they chose the places of honor, saying to them, “When you are invited by someone to a wedding feast, do not sit down in a place of honor, lest someone more distinguished than you be invited by him, and he who invited you both will come and say to you, ‘Give your place to this person,’ and then you will begin with shame to take the lowest place. But when you are invited, go and sit in the lowest place, so that when your host comes he may say to you, ‘Friend, move up higher.’ Then you will be honored in the presence of all who sit at table with you. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.”

–Luke 14:7-11 (ESV)

Now, was that so hard to understand? Even a little child can get it.

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The Hebrew Gospel of Matthew and Other Mysteries

March 11, 2013 James Pyles 4 Comments

Why are we here?

This, the mother of all questions, is addressed in turn by the various streams of Torah thought, each after its own style.

The Talmud states, simply and succinctly, “I was created to serve my Creator.” The moralistic-oriented works of Mussar describe the purpose of life as the refinement of one’s character traits. The Zohar says that G-d created us “in order that His creations should know Him.” Master Kabbalist Rabbi Isaac Luria offered the following reason for creation: G-d is the essence of good, and the nature of good is to bestow goodness. But goodness cannot be bestowed when there is no one to receive it. To this end, G-d created our world — so that there should be recipients of His goodness.

Chassidic teaching explains that these reasons, as well as the reasons given by other kabbalistic and philosophical works, are but the various faces of a singular divine desire for creation, as expressed in the various “worlds” or realms of G-d’s creation. Chassidism also offers its own formulation of this divine desire: that we “Make a home for G-d in the material world.”

“The World a Home”
Based on the teachings of the Lubavitcher Rebbe
Chabad.org

If you are a traditional Christian, the above-quoted set of paragraphs may present words and concepts with which you are not familiar. Most people have heard of the Talmud, but the Zohar as the primary text for Kabbalah, the prevalent form of Jewish Mysticism in the world today, may be rather alien to you. If you have heard of them, chances are you haven’t heard anything good. Not because Jewish mysticism is inherently bad, but because it is a trail that leads away from the Bible and particularly strays from the good news of Jesus Christ.

But in holding those views, Christians tend to forget that we also have a rich mystic heritage or for that matter, that “Kabbalah was popular among Christian intellectuals during the Renaissance and Enlightenment periods, who reinterpreted its doctrines to fit into their Christian dogma” (from Judaism 101: Kabbalah and Jewish Mysticism). There is even a suggestion that modern Christians can study Kabbalah and still remain within the tenets of the faith.

Granted, that opinion is controversial, but the fact that someone can even ask such a question presents us with the possibility that Jewish mysticism is a relevant subject of study for a follower of Jesus.

No, I don’t consider myself a mystic, although I have done a bit of research and am fond of the tales of the Chassidim, many of which involve mystic themes. I consider mystic stories as a sort of metaphor or even poetic expression, not to (necessarily) be taken literally, but rather as tales or fables that teach a moral or ethical principle. I’m also fond of the writings of Paul Philip Levertoff who, as a Chassidic Jew who came to faith in Jesus as the Jewish Messiah, retained his unique point of view as a Chassid and wrote of the Master from a “mystic perspective” that I believe sheds illumination on many mysteries surrounding Moshiach (I’m particularly fond of Love and the Messianic Age which I previously reviewed).

But I’m not writing this meditation today to advocate for Jewish mysticism.

Church tradition holds that Matthew wrote the first gospel. According to Papias, “Matthew compiled the oracles of the Lord in the Hebrew language, and each [subsequent gospel writer] interpreted them as best he could.” This implies that the original gospel written by Matthew may have been a sayings-gospel, something akin to the Gospel of Thomas, which consists of a catalogue of sayings attributed to Yeshua, completely disconnected from any narrative context. Eusebius says that Matthew wrote his gospel in Hebrew just before leaving the holy land…

According to tradition, Matthew composed his Hebrew Gospel for the benefit of disciples he left behind in Judea…

Unfortunately, the original gospel Matthew composed has been lost. The Hebrew Gospel of Matthew mentioned by Papias and Eusebius is not the same as our canonical Matthew. Our Gospel of Matthew represents a somewhat later stage of development.

-D. Thomas Lancaster
Commentary on “The First Voyage of Thomas”
from the readings for Torah Portion Vayak’hel (“He gathered”)
Torah Club Volume 6: Chronicles of the Apostles
First Fruits of Zion (FFOZ)

What I am writing about today is the relevancy of extra-Biblical texts and information sources as part of studying the Bible and educating ourselves as disciples of Christ.

Pretty strange notion, huh?

Not really. So far in my study of the Torah Club, my understanding of the Book of Acts and the journeys of Paul and his companions to spread the gospel message “first to the Jews and then to the Gentiles” has been enhanced and elucidated by the historical and scholarly information Lancaster has added to his commentaries. How can we understand what Paul, James, Peter, and the other apostles were experiencing and comprehend their actions if we allow ourselves to remain ignorant of the cultures, societies, laws, mores, and other information historians and other academicians have gleaned over the centuries of the world of first-century Judaism and the spread of early Christianity into the world outside of Jerusalem?

The Gospel of Thomas was mentioned earlier and what we know of it strongly suggests that it not be considered a reliable source of information about the early apostolic “adventures” into the lands to the east of Israel or any other parts of the world. Nevertheless, these documents exist and it would be irresponsible of us to ignore their study, even if for no other reason than to confirm or refute their accuracy.

Tales of a Hebrew (more likely Aramaic) language version of the Gospel of Matthew have been in circulation for a very long time, but we must remember that not one shred of physical, tangible evidence in the form of Matthew’s early gospel document or fragment thereof has been produced to confirm it ever existed. It’s not that it can’t have existed since the writings of Papias and Eusebius offer some support, and certainly the possibility fires the imagination, but even in the community of faith, we must separate established fact from wishful thinking.

But there are tremendous gaps in our knowledge base regarding the first century and the “acts of the apostles.” Can Paul and his small body of companions have been solely responsible for the spread of the gospel message of Christ to all of the Gentile lands? Did Luke only record a small sample of what really happened, who else was sent out, where they went, what they did, and the communities of the Messiah they established in the four corners of the then-civilized world?

So history, archaeology, literature, and similar bodies of study should all be considered valid information sources to add to our collection of methods by which we understand the world of the apostles and the prophets and well as the Word of God. But what about speculation such as an early Hebrew or Aramaic gospel of Matthew?

Lancaster’s endnote (18) for the above-referenced commentary on the Hebrew Gospel of Matthew states (TCv6, pg 581):

This original Hebrew Gospel of Matthew is not the same as our Greek, canonical Matthew, though the latter may be a Greek adaptation of Matthew’s original Hebrew manuscript. On the other hand, most synoptic-gospel scholars agree that canonical Matthew is an adaption from the Greek of the Gospel of Mark. The Gospel of Matthew cannot be both a Greek translation of the original Hebrew Gospel of Matthew and a redaction of the Gospel of Mark. Canonical Matthew does contain non-Markan elements, some in common with Luke, and quite a bit that is unique to Matthew alone, but for the most part, Matthew seems to depend upon Mark as his primary source. This does not preclude the likely possibility, however, that the author of canonical Matthew had Hebrew Matthew in hand to consult and compare with Mark. Perhaps the Gospel of Matthew bears that name because its author used Hebrew Matthew as one of his sources.

Recent attempts to identify “Shem-Tov Matthew” as Matthew’s original Hebrew Gospel are not founded on good scholarship.

In case you missed it, one of the things Lancaster (and many other scholars besides) suggests is that Gospel of Matthew may not have actually been written by the Matthew we see in the gospels. However, the main point is that without concrete evidence, we can only speculate about a “Hebrew Matthew” gospel. We can’t say that it ever really existed or if it did, what it might have said.

Still, it is compelling and it at least opens the door to the possibility that one day such a “Hebrew Matthew” (or some fragment) may appear. If it does, we don’t have to be completely shocked.

But that’s still a far cry from mysticism. Are mystic writings and philosophy ever a valid study for a “true believer?” For that matter, what is “mysticism?” According to Merriam-Webster.com:

the experience of mystical union or direct communion with ultimate reality reported by mystics

the belief that direct knowledge of God, spiritual truth, or ultimate reality can be attained through subjective experience (as intuition or insight)

When we pray, it is as if we are trying to draw God down to us in whatever place we happen to be, so that we can experience Him, encounter Him, speak to Him. In a mystic experience, it’s as if we are trying to elevate ourselves to connect to God where God is.

That’s probably one of the reasons that I don’t dive deeply into the mystic realms. I’m afraid it’ll work and I’ll suddenly find myself confronted with mysteries and powers beyond my ability to comprehend or even tolerate. I think most religious people are more comfortable with some sort of veil or barrier between themselves (ourselves) and an infinite, all-powerful, all-creative, awesome, majestic, uniquely, radically One God!

Or to use Boaz Michael’s introduction to the Love and the Messianic Age Commentary as one possible response:

Love and the Messianic Age is not a book that will appeal to everyone. It is not easy reading. It deals with large abstract theological concepts in a short summary form. Levertoff’s language is terse, densely packed, and often as cryptic as the sources he’s citing.

Kabbalistic literature is, generally speaking, comparable to a large, sprawling city with many treacherous back-alleys, dangerous neighborhoods, and sudden, unexpected dead-ends. Even with a good map and a good sense for direction, the visitor is likely to find himself lost and confused and may easily stray into a bad part of town. Rather than trying to find your way through this maze-like metropolis on your own, we recommend you follow a reliable guide. Paul Philip Levertoff is just such a guide.

Assuming you’re not a true mystic and devoted or even driven to extend yourself beyond the mortal plane of existence and to, like Paul tells of (supposedly) himself, be caught up to the third heaven…caught up to paradise” in order to “hear things that cannot be told, which man may not utter,” mystic writings, as I mentioned before, can be treated as metaphor, allegory, and as morality tales based on Jewish and Christian concepts that illustrate something we otherwise would find more difficult to comprehend. Mystic writings can also encompass speculation, debate, discussion on matters of God, Divinity, Messiah, and Heavenly realms that we might not have a language to describe in any other manner.

It is the world that exists beyond our own and for which we have no proof or even faith to understand. Mysticism gives us permission to talk about what otherwise would be unmentionable, those thoughts and feelings that exist only behind a shadowy glass, a darkened mirror, that we know we should not inquire after, but that for some people, are completely irresistible.

Ezekiel had his mystic experience. So did Paul and John (see the Book of Revelation). It was Levertoff who read the Gospel of John and said that he could not understand how Christians were able to comprehend those writings since John’s Gospel was so much like the mystic Chassidic texts on which he had been raised and educated.

Speculation into additional or extra-Biblical texts isn’t evil and neither is an investigation into mysticism. They both have their benefits and values but they (especially mysticism) are also full of landmines and trap doors. As Michael wrote, trying to navigate the maze of the mystics is “comparable to a large, sprawling city with many treacherous back-alleys, dangerous neighborhoods, and sudden, unexpected dead-ends.” If you don’t know what you’re doing or you don’t have a capable guide, it’s easy to get lost, abandoned, mugged, beaten, and left for dead on some dark and foggy dead-end street that is more akin to a Constantinople back alley of a hundred years ago or a story narrated by Rod Serling.

If you’re not sure, then don’t go there. If you’re willing to risk it, there is some possibility of reward, but there are no guarantees.

But there’s something compelling about a mystery. There’s a bit of the siren’s call in going beyond the well-known neighborhoods and breaching good judgment and common sense. The Bible must be the tangible foundation for everything we know and believe about our faith but having said that, it doesn’t mean we are confined only to a single concrete slab. As long as we keep a foot on solid rock, we may sometimes take the risk to putting the other outside, perhaps as Paul did, or John, or Ezekiel, and seeing what lies beyond.

Sometimes it’s a fool’s errand, and sometimes it’s part of the strange path we must walk in answering the call to encounter God.

How else can we answer questions like, Why are we here?

Don’t take the world and its darkness so seriously—it is not as real as it feigns to be. It is only a creation, and it is being re-created out of absolutely nothing at every moment.

The only thing real about it is its purpose of being—that you should purify it.

-Rabbi Tzvi Freeman
“Serious Darkness”
Based on letters and talks of the Rebbe
Rabbi M. M. Schneerson
Chabad.org

What about me? Actually, I’m a pretty cautious fellow. I don’t like to go off the beaten path all that often. But every once in a while, just a like a certain home-loving Bilbo Baggins, the Took family character takes over and I go off on a small, mysterious adventure.

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Following the Galatian Letter

March 10, 2013 James Pyles 2 Comments

Paul, an apostle—not from men nor through man, but through Jesus Christ and God the Father, who raised him from the dead—and all the brothers who are with me,

To the churches of Galatia:

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, who gave himself for our sins to deliver us from the present evil age, according to the will of our God and Father, to whom be the glory forever and ever. Amen.

–Galatians 1:1-5 (ESV)

In the Holy Epistle to the Galatians, the Apostle Paul argues against Gentile believers in Yeshua (Jesus) of Nazareth undergoing conversion to become Jewish. Paul maintained that Gentile believers attained salvation and inherited the blessings promised to Abraham through faith, not conversion.

The Apostle Peter said that the writings of “our beloved brother Paul” contain “some things hard to understand.” If that was true in Peter’s day, how much more so today. Paul was a prodigy educated in the most elite schools in Pharisaism. He wrote and thought from that Jewish background. Unfortunately, that makes several key passages of his work almost incomprehensible to readers unfamiliar with rabbinic literature. I invite Christians to use this book as an opportunity to study Paul’s epistle to the Galatians from a Jewish perspective.

-D. Thomas Lancaster
from the Introduction (pg 1) of his book
The Holy Epistle to the Galatians: Sermons on a Messianic Jewish Approach

I reviewed Lancaster’s book the better part of two years ago, but I never thought my write-up did the book justice. Normally, Lancaster writes in an easy to follow manner, making complex theology accessible to laypeople and non-scholars such as me, but Galatians was probably a bit of a stretch to try to get to fit into a comfortable mold. I’m sure I missed a lot along the way, although when I pulled the book out of my closet (my wife allows me exactly one closet for all of my books…she’s trying to train me not to be a “pack rat”), I saw that I have voluminous notes scribbled all over a mass of bits and scraps of paper like so much ticker tape parade confetti. I was obviously trying to “get it.”

And count the patience of our Lord as salvation, just as our beloved brother Paul also wrote to you according to the wisdom given him, as he does in all his letters when he speaks in them of these matters. There are some things in them that are hard to understand, which the ignorant and unstable twist to their own destruction, as they do the other Scriptures.

–2 Peter 3:15-16 (ESV)

That’s Peter’s description of and probably experience with the writings of Paul, as Lancaster quoted from in his introduction, and we can see from the full quote that not only can Paul’s meaning be misunderstood, but it can be deliberately “twisted” with the potential result of “destruction” by people Peter refers to as “ignorant and unstable.”

I don’t think you have to be “unstable” to misunderstand Paul and especially his letter to the churches in Galatia, but a lot of us are ignorant (I don’t mean that in a pejorative manner) of what it was to think, write, and live as a highly educated Pharisaic Jew in the middle of the first century, a mere decade or two before the destruction of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem. It may be ignorance, at least in part, that makes Paul’s Galatians letter so difficult to grasp. I’m sure it’s my ignorance that resulted in me not fully comprehending Lancaster’s book back in the summer of 2011.

But that’s about to change.

This coming Wednesday evening, my weekly conversations with Pastor Randy at my church are taking a left turn at Albuquerque, so to speak, and following Paul’s classic letter into Galatia. This time, Pastor Randy and I will be pursuing Paul’s letter together. Frankly, I can’t wait.

I wish Pastor would put his bio on the church’s website (which needs serious help, but I’m working on it) so I could access more than just my failing middle-aged memory to describe him. He’s not only been a missionary and a Pastor, but he also has a history as an educator in a scholarly setting. I’ve seen what he studies and reviews just to get ready for a single sermon, and it usually involves anywhere between twelve and twenty books. In our discussions we may not always agree on everything, but my respect for his knowledge and insight continues to grow geometically with each encounter. Admittedly, it’s an honor to just sit in the same room with him for ninety minutes or so once a week and be able to access his thoughts and experiences, especially since his education and background are a great deal of what I lack.

Lancaster repurposed twenty-six sermons on Galatians, which he delivered to his congregation, Beth Immanuel Sabbath Fellowship in Hudson, Wisconsin in 2008, to create this book I’m about to revisit. That’s twenty-six weeks and twenty-six opportunities for me to not just re-read Lancaster’s book, but to study it and to learn from two fine scholars and devoted believers in Christ.

Along the way, I’m hoping not only to learn a lot more about Paul’s letter, but more about the nature of how Paul saw non-Jewish God-fearing believers within a Jewish worship and faith context, who they were in the Jewish Messiah King, and how he saw their role, and our role, in the Kingdom of Heaven. I’m hoping to learn a little something more about myself as a Christian, too.

I was able to talk with Pastor Randy briefly just before services began this morning (as you can imagine, Sunday is his especially “busy” day) and confirmed our meeting for this coming Wednesday and the plan to cover Sermon 1: Letter to the God-Fearers (Galatians 1:1-5). I’m planning on taking notes as I read through the book and during my discussions with Pastor Randy so that I can collect the results of this experience, not just for my own edification, but hopefully for yours.

I invite you to come along with Pastor Randy and me on this weekly adventure as we return to the churches of Galatia by way of Lancaster’s The Holy Epistle to the Galatians. May we all learn the wisdom and message of our Master together through the voice of his Apostle to the Gentiles, Paul, and through this, may we all draw ever closer to God.

"When you awake in the morning, learn something to inspire you and mediate upon it, then plunge forward full of light with which to illuminate the darkness." -Rabbi Tzvi Freeman