Behaalotecha: The Presence of Light and Compassion

lightThe Lord spoke to Moses, saying: Speak to Aaron and say to him, “When you mount the lamps, let the seven lamps give light at the front of the lampstand.” Aaron did so; he mounted the lamps at the front of the lampstand, as the Lord had commanded Moses.

–Numbers 8:1-3 (JPS Tanakh)

The Almighty is not in need of our light. On the contrary, we are in need of His. For this reason the Torah guides us in the proper way of taking full spiritual advantage of the light of the Menorah: The lamps must radiate toward themselves, meaning that the light they give should not only illuminate others, but it must come back and shine on the Menorah itself.

This returning light is at once a fact and a commandment. It applies especially in our day and age when the Temple and the Menorah are no longer standing, and when we must fill the void of the reflecting light that the Menorah once provided.

When the light we radiate around us by leading Torah lives returns to us, enhancing our spirituality and improving our behavior to one another, we will have fulfilled both the fact and the commandment of “When you light the lamps opposite the front of the candlestick the seven lamps shall give light.”

-from “Light That Returns”
A commentary on Torah Portion Behaalotecha
VirtualJerusalem.com

“You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.”

–Matthew 5:14-16 (ESV)

I suppose this week’s commentary on the Torah Portion is only loosely based on the Parashah, but I must admit that I need a little extra “light” in my world. With that in mind, I’m “tweaking” my “meditation” to favor “light.”

The Virtual Jerusalem commentary compares the commandment of lighting the Menorah in the Tabernacle to the “light” of spirituality, goodness, Torah study, and scholarship. To a Christian, praying, singing hymns, and preaching the Word might all seem like more worthwhile activities than studying the Bible, but for some Jews, studying Torah is directly associated with obeying its commands to do good and to show kindness to others. When you take in the light of the Torah, it shines in the world around you as well.

That very well could be related to what the Master was thinking when he said the words we have recorded in Matthew 5:14-16. We shine our light because we have received that light from our Master and teacher. It extends out into the world but it also is reflected back toward us as those we have touched in a meaningful way received our light (which comes from our Master) and it returns to us as a blessing.

Yes, we need blessings and renewal because even among the body of believers, it can be a trying world. If you’ve been reading the comments made on my blog over the past week or so, you know that tempers became heated, nerves became frayed, and some among the body of Christ seemingly forgot that our Master taught us a new commandment to love one another (John 13:34). Of course, there is the concept of “tough love” or “I’m only telling the truth,” but the Bible is replete with teachings about how to approach a brother privately to solve a dispute (Matthew 18:15-18).

Of course, Jesus goes on to say:

Again I say to you, if two of you agree on earth about anything they ask, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven. For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them.” –Matthew 18:19-20 (ESV)

Naturally, the two have to actually agree on something, which seems easier said and done, and perhaps that “two or three..gathered in my name” means gathering face-to-face and not virtually in the blogosphere.

Yes, the “magic” of brotherhood I experienced at the Shavuot conference I recently attended has dissipated and once again, I encounter the actuality of “religious conversations,” where one can be accused of various misdeeds when the only “crime” that occurred was saying to the other person, “I don’t agree with you.” Failing to unreservedly honor another’s sacred cow can be a terrible thing (and I know a little something about pursuing sacred cows).

Tsvi Sadan calls the Messiah the concealed light, in part because the light of the Jewish King has been temporarily concealed from his Jewish brethern for the sake of the nations (see Romans 11). Rabbi Tzvi Freeman, in presenting the wisdom of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, of righteous memory, says:

It all began with an infinite light that filled all and left no room for a world to be. Then that light was withheld so the world might be created in the resulting void.

Then the world was created, with the purpose of returning to that original state of light — yet to remain a world.

All the world’s problems stem from light being withheld.

Our job then, is to correct this. Wherever we find light, we must rip away its casings, exposing it to all, letting it shine forth to the darkest ends of the earth.

Especially the light you yourself hold.

The Light was concealed. But its Source was not. The Source of Light is everywhere.

For those of you with little tolerance for Chassidic mysticism, I prefer to think of these writings as metaphorical. If indeed we shine some of the “concealed light” of our Master, the Messiah, Jesus Christ, as he taught us, we must not let the light be concealed. We must “rip away its casings” and expose that light to others. But what light are we talking about and what happens when it shines?

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.

“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.

“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

“Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you. –Matthew 5:3-12 (ESV)

I suppose I could have quoted from any number of the Master’s teachings, but this one seemed particularly appropriate. Who is blessed? The poor in spirit, mourners, the meek, people who are passionate for righteousness, the merciful, the pure of heart, peacemakers, those persecuted for the sake of righteousness, the reviled, those falsely accused on account of the Master.

If you toss the Beatitudes into a big bowl, take a large wooden spoon and stir vigorously, you can come out with the idea that if you are persecuted, reviled, falsely accused, or just plain “bad mouthed,” you should still respond with meekness, act mercifully, be peacemakers, and mourn for the souls of those who need to personalize conflict in the name of Christ. What an odd way to react to a verbal slap in the face, but then the Master also said something about turning the other cheek (though probably not literal in meaning).

Sorry, I just needed to ponder those thoughts and to consider that even the world of religious discourse (some would say especially the world of religious discourse) is no less filled with landmines and tripwires than any secular conversation.

He could have placed streetlamps along all the pathways of wisdom, but then there would be no journey.

Who would discover the secret passages, the hidden treasures, if all of us took the king’s highway?

Toward the light Rabbi Freeman uses light and darkness to describe the presence or absence of wisdom and knowledge of God, but I choose to see this as a metaphor illustrating peace, mercy, and righteousness, or their absense. A movie I’ve seen a few times starring Harrison Ford as (of all people) the President of the United States, contains one of my favorite lines of dialog:

Peace isn’t merely the absence of conflict, but the presence of justice.

In my case, I’d settle for only the occasional absence of conflict (since, after all, this is the Internet and human beings are involved), the presence of compassion, and the soft glow of a bit of kindness, like candlelight, holding the darkness at bay.

Good Shabbos.

Climb!

It is well known that we live in a time when there is terrible hester panim -God’s presence is not easily perceived. The Chofetz Chaim, zt”l, uses this concept to explain why we have so many amenities in our times. “God saw that people were very weak spiritually due to the obscuring of God’s presence and could not survive dealing with the hardships of living without conveniences to make life easier. He afforded access to electricity and all of the appliances that use it, and subsequent generations find such things essential to their survival.”

We sometimes find Talmudic statements that don’t seem to apply today. On today’s daf, for example, we find that if a pregnant woman walks on cut fingernails she will miscarry. Yet this seems a bit farfetched to us here in the twenty-first century. When someone asked the Chazon Ish, zt”l, about whether this principle is still in effect, he replied with characteristic clarity. “In our generation, with such great hester panim, I would not be surprised if a woman who is expecting treads on fingernails and nothing happens to her fetus at all.”

The Shelah HaKadosh, zt”l, gives a similar explanation for why we no longer find that people are struck with tzora’as for sins like leshon hara and the like – although the Gemara explicitly states that certain sins cause the ailment. “The matter of tzora’as is only applicable when we had a Beis HaMikdash and God’s providence was clearly seen. After the destruction of the Beis HaMikdash, God’s providence was hidden. During such hester panim, we are no longer sent tzora’as as a clear message from heaven that one must rectify his sins.”

Daf Yomi Digest
Stories Off the Daf
“The Cloaking of Providence”
Niddah 17

Don’t panic. I have a hard time believing that a pregnant woman would miscarry just because she walked on cut fingernails, too. Nevertheless, this story tells us an important lesson about the nature of the church today.

As you may know if you’ve been reading my “morning meditations” (or any religious blog) lately, there is no more contentious an environment than the religious blogosphere. We may treat each other pretty much politely or with (sometimes feigned) respect when we meet face-to-face in our churches and our synagogues, but once you get us on a web and we have access to a “submit” button on a discussion board or blogger’s comment form, all bets are off. When I wrote Will a Soul Cry Out Against You several days ago (even though I only posted it this morning), I didn’t really have this specific topic in mind. Today, I can’t get the topic out of my head (you’ll see it appear again in tomorrow’s “meditation” on this week’s Torah Portion).

A friend of mine has been communicating something similar recently (no, it’s not the friend some of you may think). The Christian church, our faith and our community, is having “issues”.

Pick up and open any popular book on Christianity and you’ll read about problems. The church has problems. Christianity has problems. We aren’t functioning correctly. In some way, we’re broken; we’re sick. People are leaving churches, youth aren’t keeping their faith into their college years, pastors are suffering from burnout and doors are closing all over the country.

The New Testament church wasn’t this way. It grew exponentially. It rocked its world. It set in motion a movement that now compasses the globe. Why don’t we see that kind of movement in the church down the street?

Why doesn’t our church look like Acts 2, or 1 Corinthians 13, or Philippians 4? Why aren’t converts becoming devoted disciples? Why do people in church seem to complain so much? What’s with the backbiting and shallowness? Where’s the depth? Where’s the passion? Where’s the love?

Good questions. Really good questions. I wish I had the answers but, as you know, questions are my primary message. Sometimes they’re only the breadcrumbs available to guide us along the path.

We in the church are a pretty disappointing lot, but maybe we have an excuse. God doesn’t seem to be very present in the world today. His Face seems to be truly hidden and the Messiah’s light is very much concealed under a bowl. But then again, maybe God’s “absence” is caused by the dismal performance of the church and the members of her body, particularly in the areas of graciousness, respect, and compassion. If God treated us the way we treat each other, the Earth would be a slowly cooling cinder in space, devoid of life and light.

The weight of graceless Christianity (I include myself among the crowd) presses heavily upon my shoulders and like a weak and aged Atlas, I can no longer hold it up. When the Divine Presence filled the Tabernacle in the desert for the first time, Moses wasn’t able to enter the tent of meeting because the glory; the weight of God’s Presence was too heavy (Exodus 40:35). I only wish the weight that keeps me from standing, let alone rising, were from the same Source.

But as much as collective Christianity sometimes makes me want to throw in the towel, there are some out there who are also encouraging. That’s what I need, that’s what we need. We need to be encouraging one another all the time (1 Thessalonians 5:11, Hebrews 3:13) and to love one another (John 13:34-35) so that people will know that our faith is not in vain. We need to do this in a world where we cannot easily see the face or feel the weight of God so that we can be reassured that our faith is not in vain.

At times like these, it’s easy to imagine myself as a spacecraft in a decaying orbit, about to burn up in the atmosphere, or a plane that is spinning out of control into a nose dive toward the unyielding ground beneath me. Small wonder that so many people crash, burn, burnout, and leave the faith. Small wonder that the secular world around us seems to have so many more people in it capable of compassion, kindness, and love.

One of the commentaries on this week’s Torah portion reminds me of a very special quality Moses needed in order to do the job God gave him to do.

One of the greatest attributes possessed by Moshe was his humility, as the Torah attests in the portion Beha’alosecha : “Moshe was extremely humble, more so than any other person on the face of the earth.”

Of all the Jewish people, G-d selected Moshe to lead the Jews out of Egypt. Then G-d chose him, and him alone, to receive the Torah, and learned with him for 40 days and nights.

Moreover, in the portion Beha’alosecha the Torah states that Moshe was able to converse with G-d whenever he wished; that he shared his spirit with the 70 elders and lacked not because of it; and that his relationship with the Jewish people was that of a nurse carrying an infant.

How was it possible for an individual who was so great to be so utterly humble. Was Moshe not aware of his stature? Especially so, since knowing one’s true station is a prerequisite to proper service of G-d. For a person must serve G-d according to his rank, and in order to do so one must be aware of both his virtues and his faults.

The Master taught a lesson that could have come right out of Moshe’s play book.

But Jesus called them to him and said, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them. It shall not be so among you. But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be your slave, even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” –Matthew 20:25-28 (ESV)

I’m no Moses and certainly neither are any of the other folks who comment in religious blogs such as mine (though the vast majority of them are very fine and worthy servants of God), but humility in leading can also transfer to humility in speaking and humility in writing. It’s a challenge when you’re “semi-anonymous” on the web and you don’t have to look anyone in the eye. So many people out there feel they have a message to transmit that others need to hear. I guess I’m as guilty of that thought and feeling as anyone. But I implore you (as I implore myself) to consider how much you want or even need a “ministry” that puts you in the public eye, even if it’s only on the Internet. Really wise people avoid the spotlight if they can.

After the passing of Rabbi Shmuel of Lubavitch, the elder chassidim gathered and decided to confer the mantle of leadership on his middle son Rabbi Sholom DovBer. A delegation visited Rabbi Sholom DovBer and requested that he assume his father’s place as Rebbe. Rabbi Sholom DovBer heard them out in silence, playing with the chain of his pocket watch, and did not respond in any way.

Soon after they left, Rabbi Dovid Tzvi Chein, an intimate friend of Rabbi Sholom DovBer, entered the room. As soon as the door closed behind him, the new Rebbe burst into tears. “If you are truly a friend of mine,” he wept, “you would tie a rope around my neck, secure it to a heavy stone, and throw me in the river…”

-Rabbi Yanki Tauber
“The Agony of Leadership”
Based on Numbers 11:28
Chabad.org

Rashi’s commentary on the above referenced verse from Numbers was, “Annihilate them” – Appoint them to a position of leadership, and they will deteriorate of their own accord… These days, all it takes to erode a person once strong in the faith is to “promote” them to “blogger.”

OK, that’s really cynical and my original motivation in writing this “extra meditation” was to try and be encouraging and uplifting, as much for me as for anyone who is reading this.

These days, my son David and I go to the gym together at about five every weekday morning to work out. This morning, I was on one of the aerobic machines. The last five minutes of a workout, I go into a cooldown mode trying to get my heartrate back down to something more or less reasonable. Often, I’ll close my eyes and imagine that I’m running alone on a path that’s climbing to the crest of a hill. It’s dark, but I can see the light of a new sunrise beckoning ahead of me. The light gets brighter as I near the top. It’s almost as if I can see the breath of God intermingling with my own as we approach each other. I jog toward the crest of the hill but never quite reach it before the timer on my machine gets to zero.

But in the last seconds of my fatal descent from the heavens, I manage to pull back up, avoiding a fiery disaster, and with my wings fully extended and my engines roaring with new life, I begin to climb.

 

 

 

Will a Soul Cry Out Against You?

On today’s amud we see that one should have pleasure on Shabbos. A close student once invited Rav Yisrael Salanter, zt”l, join him leil Shabbos.

“I never go to anyone for Shabbos until I find out their custom during the meal I shall be attending,” answered Rav Yisrael Salanter.

This student very proudly recounted that his table was filled with both physical and spiritual oneg shabbos of the very best kind. “We only procure our meats b’tachlis ha’hidur. The cook in our house is a G-dfearing woman, the widow of a renowned talmid chacham. Our table is resplendent with the best foods, yet we are very careful to sing and say an abundance of Torah between each course. We even have a regular seder in Shulchan Aruch. Understandably, our table ends only very late into the night.”

Rav Yisrael accepted his student’s invitation, but with a surprising condition. “I will come, but only if you cut two hours off the meal.”

The student complied with his mentor’s strange request and the meal from start to finish took slightly under an hour. At the very end, right when they were preparing to wash mayim achronim, the student could not contain his curiosity, “Please teach me what is wrong with my regular meal that the Rav would not come until I cut it to such an extent.”

Instead of replying, Rav Yisrael merely asked that the cook be brought the table. When the modest woman arrived, Rav Yisrael apologized to her. “Please forgive me for rushing you this evening since on my account you were forced to serve course after course with no break between them.”

“Hashem should bless the Rav with all the brochos!” replied the gratified widow. “I only wish that he came to us every Friday night. My boss usually has a very lengthy meal, and after a hard day working on my feet in the kitchen, I am so weak that I can hardly stand. But, thanks to the Rav, I can get some much needed rest.”

Rav Yisrael turned his student and said, “In this poor widow’s reply you have an answer to your question. It is true that the way you set up your table is very meritorious…but only if your tzidkus isn’t attained at the expense of another!”

from Mishna Berura Yomi Digest
Stories to Share
“Oneg Shabbos”
Shabbos, June 2, 12 Sivan
Siman 167 Seif 16-20

This lesson needs virtually no commentary and its meaning should be plain, so I have very little to add. In many religious traditions including Christianity and Judaism, there is a tendency to want to impress others with our level of sanctity and holiness. Nevermind that the Bible speaks against such personal arrogance, it is human nature to want to look good in front of others, especially others who hold a higher social rank or who we otherwise feel are our superiors. That’s what we see here in our “story to share.” We also see an example of people who should know better, trying to convince “the masses” of their holiness.

Then Jesus said to the crowds and to his disciples, “The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat, so do and observe whatever they tell you, but not the works they do. For they preach, but do not practice. They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on people’s shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to move them with their finger. They do all their deeds to be seen by others. For they make their phylacteries broad and their fringes long, and they love the place of honor at feasts and the best seats in the synagogues and greetings in the marketplaces and being called rabbi by others. –Matthew 23:1-7 (ESV)

This verse is usually cited by Christians to pound on Jewish tradition including the modern halachah of Jews wearing tallitot and tefillin, but I don’t believe that was the Master’s intent. He had no problem with that the Pharisses taught (see verse 3 above), only the bad motivations for their behavior. In our story from the beginning of this blog post, the student didn’t necessarily have bad motivations for demonstrating such a high level of observance, but he was careless. He put form before substance. He attained his tzidkus at the expense of another.

Ultimately, everything we do, we do for the sake of Heaven, but as human beings, it is extremely easy to mess up our priorities. This isn’t something you only find in Judaism, it’s also equally likely to happen in Christianity. That’s because I’m describing a trait of the all too frail human heart. On some level, we all desire to do what is right, but our personalities get in the way. It’s even worse when, like the student in our example above, we don’t even realize it. Heaven forbid it should be pointed out to us in such a public way and in front of the person we have been inadvertantly victimizing.

All I’m asking of anyone reading this is that you stop and look in a mirror. Who are you and what are you doing? Could you be serving God better? Could you be serving other people better? Have you, even without realizing it, been exploiting, injuring, or insulting someone else while believing you’re doing good for God? If the answer to any of the last three questions is “yes,” then what do you need to change?

Final question: is it worse to be a hypocrite and know you’re screwing up, or to be clueless about how you’re hurting others?

You shall not mistreat any widow or fatherless child. If you do mistreat them, and they cry out to me, I will surely hear their cry, and my wrath will burn… –Exodus 22:22-24 (ESV)

Asking the Right Questions: A Brief Review of Messiah Journal 110

Gateway to Eden“A river went out from Eden to water the garden.”

There is Eden, and there is the garden.

Eden is a place of delight, far beyond the garden, beyond all created things. Yet its river nurtures all that grows in that garden.

The garden is wisdom, understanding, knowing—where all of creation begins.

Adam is placed in the garden, to work with his mind, and to discover the transcendent Eden flowing within.

The objective of all man’s toil in this world is to work to reach beyond his own mind, higher than mind at all. Not to a place where the mind is ignored, but rather, to its essence, to the inner sense of beauty and wonder that guides it. To Eden.

-Rabbi Tzvi Freeman
“The River from Eden”
Based on letters and talks of the Rebbe
Rabbi M. M. Schneerson
Chabad.org

I get tired.

Yes, I know. We all get tired, but I don’t mean just that. For the past several days, my “meditations” have been anything but peaceful, reflective missives. They’ve been firestorms of controversy which have inspired debates on hotly contested subjects, such as the nature of Christian obligation to Judaism and whether or not the Jews will ever be “saved.”

I’m reminded that at the end of all things, “they shall sit every man under his vine and under his fig tree, and no one shall make them afraid, for the mouth of the Lord of hosts has spoken” (Micah 4:4).

I’m kind of looking forward to that.

I’ve been reading over the latest issue (110) of Messiah Journal (MJ) published by First Fruits of Zion (FFOZ). Normally, I select a few articles from any given issue and review them one at a time. This issue hit me differently.

It’s probably because I was at FFOZ’s recent Shavuot conference which was hosted at Beth Immanuel Sabbath Fellowship in Hudson, Wisconsin. As I was reading a number of the various articles in the magazine, I was reminded of similar content that was presented in different teachings at the conference.

For instance, Aaron Eby’s article “Exile and Redemption in Genesis” seems to be closely related to a number of things I heard Boaz Michael discuss and which I chronicled in Redeeming the Heart of Israel, Part 1 and Part 2. Aaron references the article he wrote for MJ issue 109 called “The Writing on the Wall” in which he discussed the sins that traditional Judaism believes contributed to the destruction of the Second Temple. He alludes to the idea that Christ’s teachings may have specifically been targeting the sins in Israel that resulted in the Temple’s destruction and the exile of the Jewish people, but “Exile and Redemption in Genesis” doesn’t actually go that far. This is obviously a “part 2” of a larger series and I suspect that Aaron will revisit Yeshua’s teachings in the next edition of MJ which will come out in late August or early September. Too bad, because I’d like to see this concept fleshed out a little more right now, particularly with related scriptural verses.

Toby Janicki wrote an article for MJ 110 called Rebbe Nachman on The Suffering Tzaddik.” He tells us that the concept of the death of a tzaddik (righteous one) being able to bring atonement for others, goes back to D. Thomas Lancaster’s article “Suffering Tzaddik” which came out in MJ 107. Toby focuses on the specific experiences and stories related to Rebbe Nachman as they apply to the wider Jewish concept and of course, as they apply to our own great tzaddik, Moshiach Yeshua, and how his death atoned for the sins, not just of his generation, but of all humanity.

(Last September, I wrote my own humble missive on this topic called The Death of the Tzaddik, but my limited research couldn’t possibly be compared to the scholarship of Lancaster or Janicki. Still, you might want to give it a read.)

At the end of reading Toby’s article, I wrote myself a note that said:

Can any of these writings reach Christians who will rely solely on the Bible for evidence?

I was thinking of an email I’d received from a very kind and knowledgable gentleman that morning in response to my “meditation” A Few Thoughts on a General Soul. In part, he wrote:

As you know, the “general soul” business is found in Chassidic thought. It is an extravagant claim and cries out for asmachta (scriptural support). You offer none because, IMHO, there is none to be found.

That certainly strikes home and as fond as I am of the midrashim and Chassidic writings, it is very unlikely that they can be mapped directly back to specific scriptures in the Bible. Near the climax of his article, Toby even says:

So what, if anything, can Rebbe Nachman’s teachings on tikkun and the Master of the Field teach us about the Gospels? It’s important before we answer that question that we realize that the Master and Rebbe Nachman were separated by almost 1,800 years. Much in Judaism changed during those years, and theologies that did not yet exist in the first century had had centuries to develop. Rebbe Nachman based much of his teachings on texts and ideas that were completely foreign to Yeshua.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m completely delighted with this issue of MJ and the scholarly papers presented within, but given recent experiences, I was also reminded of the limitations of said-information, particularly when presented to a crowd of  traditional Christians. It’s like facing an audience of “Joe Fridays” from the old TV show Dragnet (1951-59) with Sgt. Friday interviewing a witness and insisting, “The facts, Ma’am. Just the facts.” In the case of a Christian audience, the phrase might be something like, “The Scriptures, Jim. Just the Scriptures.”

My perspective on my faith allows me to include extra-Biblical sources into my database and I don’t believe you can wholly separate the Judaism of Jesus, Peter, and Paul, from the subsequent Judaisms that have developed across the centuries between the time of Christ and now. That sort of goes along with something else Toby wrote about in his article:

With that said, as my colleague D. Thomas Lancaster likes to point out, “even the work of a Chasidic teacher from a century ago is closer to the world of Yeshua and the disciples than church literature of the second century CE.”

I suppose I’m going to be criticized for including that quote, too.

Russ Resnik in his Messiah Journal article “‘Shema’ Living the Great Commandment: Part 2: ‘Listen’ – The First Imperative” said in part:

Note Yeshua’s emphasis again on hearing, which leads to understanding and bearing fruit. To obey the second line of the Shema and love HaShem wholeheartedly, we must obey the first line and truly “hear.”

The response I wrote in a note to myself says:

And yet, despite the fact that we all want to hear and to obey, what many of us hear seems radically different from all of the others in the body of faith in Messiah, as the comments section of my different blog posts can attest.

Conversations can get very passionate and even unfriendly at times, and yet as we push each other around in the virtual world of the religious blogosphere, we are all striving to achieve essentially the same goal: to uphold and honor God. It’s just that our understanding of what that’s supposed to mean differs greatly from one person to the next and one tradition to the next, and we are all convinced that our tradition is the best and must be defended against all others.

At the Shavuot conference, Boaz mentioned to me that groups often define themselves by their opposition to other groups and that can’t be more clearly illustrated than on the Internet. Even as I’m writing this blog post on Tuesday night, the comments in my blog are continuing to accrue and some part of me isn’t looking forward to reading them. It’s one thing to inspire spirited debate and another thing entirely to be nearly branded “public enemy number one” because I make statements that disagree with someone else’s theology and philosophy.

But in all of these arguments on topics which I really love exploring, I must admit that a number of the points I’ve addressed lately need to be researched much more thoroughly and to be examined through the lens of scripture, before we hitch our wagon to them and start driving them down the road.

On the other hand, if reading articles written by Russ Resnik, Aaron Eby, and Toby Janicki can inspire this much of a response in me, imagine what they might inspire in you. Faith isn’t just about having the answers, it’s about knowing how to ask the right questions. Joe Friday wanted answers that were facts. Another fictional police officer was rewarded for how he asked questions.

Dr. Alfred Lanning: “Good to see you again, son.”

Detective Del Spooner: “Hello, doctor.”

Dr. Alfred Lanning: “Everything that follows is a result of what you see here.”

Detective Del Spooner: “Is there something you want to tell me?”

Dr. Alfred Lanning: “I’m sorry. My responses are limited. You must ask the right questions.”

Detective Del Spooner: “Why did you call me?”

Dr. Alfred Lanning: “I trust your judgement.”

Detective Del Spooner: “Normally, these circumstances wouldn’t require a homicide detective.”

Dr. Alfred Lanning: “But then our interactions have never been entirely normal. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Detective Del Spooner: “You got that right… Is there something you want to say to me?”

Dr. Alfred Lanning: “I’m sorry. My responses are limited. You must ask the right questions.”

Detective Del Spooner: “Why would you kill yourself?”

Dr. Alfred Lanning: “That, detective, is the right question. Program terminated.”

from I, Robot (2004)

Understanding God and the mystery He’s presented us with in the Bible is not just a matter of having the right answers, but of asking the right questions. These can be questions as startling as, “Why would you kill yourself?” We can’t afraid…I can’t be afraid to raise startling questions or to broach sensitive topics of discussion. As tiring as it can be to continually respond to my critics, I have to keep asking those questions.

The questions are bread crumbs. This is where they’re supposed to lead to someday.

Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city; also, on either side of the river, the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, yielding its fruit each month. The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. No longer will there be anything accursed, but the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will worship him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. And night will be no more. They will need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever. –Revelation 22:1-5 (ESV)

Messiah Journal: Excerpt from “Origins of Supersessionism in the Church, Part 2”

Before I launch into the second part of my series on supersessionism in the church, I want to make a point of saying that I am not hanging the full weight of replacement theology of all Christian churches everywhere. I know, especially from my comments in Part 1, that it appears as if Christianity has much to answer for in its treatment of the Jews across history, but I haven’t forgotten that the church has also done an enormous amount of good in the world as the representatives of the Messiah for nearly 2,000 years. The specific scholars and theologians I’ve selected who represent supersessionism don’t represent all of Christianity. I’m not writing this series to drive a wedge between Christians and Jews (and since I’m a Christian, I have no motivation to do so), but to point out a legacy that we have inherited from our fathers and that we need to search out and continue to correct. To any Christian who feels I have treated them unfairly in my previous article, I apologize. Unfortunately, I have to point out some uncomfortable facts, so that we can recognize them for what they are. Once we’ve done that, we can move forward as disciples of the Master and stand side-by-side with our Jewish brothers in the faith before the throne of God.

-from the introduction to
“Origins of Supersessionism in the Church, Part 2”
by James Pyles
Messiah Journal, issue 110, pg 13

I sometimes “accuse” First Fruits of Zion (FFOZ) of “stealth marketing.” Issue 110 of Messiah Journal (MJ) was on display last week at FFOZ’s product table at the Shavuot conference I attended. Several other attendees told me they had already received the current issue in the mail before the conference. By the time I got home after the conference, my copy had arrived in the mail. But on FFOZ’s most recent issues web page for MJ, Issue 109 is listed as the current issue.

I love the people at FFOZ a lot but…Oy.

As you may recall, Part 1 of my Supersessionism series covered the historical origins of supersessionism from Biblical times to the present or at least the “near-past.” Part 2 covers the theological underpinnings of supersessionism in the church as it applies to three critical areas:

  1. Salvation
  2. Eschatology
  3. Religious Festivals

I know that there’s a lot more I could have written about, but when I was discussing how best to approach this part of the series with Boaz Michael, he suggested that these three areas were the most important. Also, I have a word count limit to observe, so I have to zero in on the most informative areas of each article’s main topic.

Salvation, relative to supersessionism, addresses the mechanism by which Jews must be saved. Christianity not only requires that a Jew come to faith in the Jewish Messiah, but that he or she completely give up any Jewish lifestyle or religious observance as a condition of that salvation.

Eschatology involves what most people think of as “the end times” (cue scary thunder and lightning noises, please). First of all, will Jews even be there and second of all, what will be their role? Who are the “144,000 sealed from every tribe of the sons of Israel?” (Revelation 7:4 ESV). Many Christians aren’t convinced they are literally members of the twelve tribes but some spiritual representation of Israel held by (Gentile) Christians.

Religious Festivals has to do with what Jews celebrate vs. what the church celebrates. Why was Easter created as a Christian observance and were Christians actually barred from any observance of Passover by the early church? Were all Jewish festivals considered invalid for Christians and how does that affect church celebrations today?

How conscious are these ideas in the church today? Do people actually think about the role (or lack thereof) of Jews in their relationship with God and in terms of these three topic areas, or are these wholly assumed and therefore beneath the lived Christian awareness?

To find out the answers to these questions and more, contact First Fruits of Zion and ask to purchase a copy of issue 110 of Messiah Journal.

Oh, and by the by, I’ll be reviewing other selected articles from this same issue, so you’ll get an inside glimpse of what writers such as Russ Resnik, Aaron Eby, and Toby Janicki have to say about a number of interesting and even critical subjects in the realm of Messianic Judaism.

Stay tuned.

A Few Thoughts on a General Soul

Hasidism teaches that while not all are able to attain the highest levels of elevated spirituality, the masses can attach themselves to the Tzadik, or truly righteous one, (in Hebrew: התקשרות לצדיקים) whereby even those of lesser achievement will reap the same spiritual and material benefits. By being in the Tzadik’s presence one could achieve dveikut through that of the Tzadik. The Tzadik also serves as the intercessor between those attached to him and God, and acts as the channel through which Divine bounty is passed. To the early Rabbinic opponents of Hasidism, its distinctive doctrine of the Tzadik appeared to place an intermediary before Judaism’s direct connection with God. They saw the Hasidic enthusiasm of telling semi-prophetic or miraculous stories of its leaders as excessive. In Hasidic thought, based on earlier Kabbalistic ideas of collective souls, the Tzaddik is a general soul in which the followers are included. The Tzaddik is described as an “Intermidiary who connects” with God, rather than the heretical notion of an “Intermidiary who separates”. To the followers, the Tzaddik is not an object of prayer, as he attains his level only by being completely bittul (nullified) to God. The Hasidic followers have the custom of handing pidyon requests for blessing to the Tzaddik, or visiting the Ohel graves of earlier leaders.

from the article “Hasidic philosophy”
Wikipedia.org

I can hardly tell you how the above-quoted paragraph seems to describe how I understand the Messiah.

OK, I know that Wikipedia has less than a stellar reputation as a direct resource, but given that Chasidic and Kabbalistic philosophy can be enormously difficult to comprehend (at least to me), I selected what I thought was the most accessible information source. But why am I posting a quote about bonding with a Chasidic tzadik at all? What possible relevance can it have to a Christian, even one who is trying to view his faith through a traditional Jewish lens?

Last week, as I’ve mentioned numerous times, I attended the First Fruits of Zion (FFOZ) 2012 Shavuot conference at the Beth Immanuel Sabbath Fellowship in Hudson, Wisconsin. Among the various teachers and speakers at this event was FFOZ author and staff member Aaron Eby. He said something about the Messiah during one of his presentations that I just had to write down. This probably isn’t word-for-word, but hopefully, it’s close.

Messiah has a general soul and he cannot separate his soul from the soul of Israel.

I’m not sure if the other stuff I have written down on this little piece of paper I’m looking at was said by Aaron or just my interpretation and expansion on what he said, but here it is.

When a Gentile takes hold of the tzitzit of a Jew, he is taking hold of Messiah. He is taking hold of the tzitzit of a Jew and being led to the Temple Mount. Find God in the Jewish people.

I’m obviously referencing Zechariah 8:23 in my notes, but let’s take a look at the verse in it’s context.

“Thus says the Lord of hosts: Peoples shall yet come, even the inhabitants of many cities. The inhabitants of one city shall go to another, saying, ‘Let us go at once to entreat the favor of the Lord and to seek the Lord of hosts; I myself am going.’ Many peoples and strong nations shall come to seek the Lord of hosts in Jerusalem and to entreat the favor of the Lord. Thus says the Lord of hosts: In those days ten men from the nations of every tongue shall take hold of the robe of a Jew, saying, ‘Let us go with you, for we have heard that God is with you.’” –Zechariah 8:20-23 (ESV)

These events occur in the Messianic age, so thus far, ten men of the nations haven’t taken a hold of the tzitzit of a Jew in the manner described by the prophet. However, we know that this will happen and we know we Christians should get used to the idea that it should happen, and that it is all part of God’s plan for the Jews and for us.

A few weeks ago, I wrote on another meditation something that caused quite a stir:

This is another reason why we Christians, and indeed, the entire world, owes the Jews a debt that can never be repaid. It is their King who will finally come and bring peace for everyone, not just the nation of Israel, but the nations of the earth.

The “push back” I received about those words was that we owe God the Father and Jesus Christ such a debt, not the Jewish people. The idea is that Christians should not glorify a people group but instead, glorify God. As far as that statement goes, I agree wholeheartedly. Our worship and devotion belongs only to the God of Israel. Jesus Christ came and even said that God sent him to the lost sheep of Israel. And we know from the very often quoted John 3:16 and many other scriptures that the scope of the Messianic covenant extends far beyond Israel and indeed, to the entire world.

ShavuotBut what was that thing about a “general soul?”

When Aaron made that statement, I immediately thought of the different ways I tried to explain why we Christians do owe a debt to the Jews. In the best way I knew how, I tried to show that the Messiah as an individual, cannot be separated from his people the Jews. In essense, Messiah is Israel and is their firstborn son. Now I have another way of thinking about Messiah as having a general soul that is inseparably joined to the soul of all his people. But maybe, if we can take a different look at Zechariah 8, the door swings both ways, so to speak. We in church, when we “take hold” of Christ, are also taking hold of Israel and the Jews. But we can also “take hold,” as the prophet said, of a Jew, and by doing so, be joined to Israel and her Messiah.

I want to be very careful here and explain that I’m not talking about substituting Judaism in the place of the Messiah. So many Gentiles in the Messianic Jewish movement have fallen into this trap and abandoned Jesus altogether, choosing instead to convert to a traditional Judaism. This is not what I’m suggesting at all. What I’m saying is that we cannot separate the Messiah from Judaism. Perhaps I’m also saying that we cannot separate Judaism from Messiah. I’m not particularly scholarly in these areas, so I don’t have the means to evaluate the mystical implications of all of this, but if nothing else, I see the Messiah and his general soul as a way for us to continually realize that we cannot say we love Jesus Christ and throw the Jews, Judaism, and national Israel under a bus at the same time.

If we accept Christ as Messiah and Lord, we accept all of him, just as he is and always will be. Totally joined to Israel and to every Jew who has ever existed.

So be careful what you say and how you treat the next Jewish person you meet. You never know if someday it may be his tzitzit you will be clinging to as you cling to the soul of the Messiah.

Since the Divine activating force responsible for the existence of created things must continuously be present within them, they are completely nullified in their source. This means, as the Alter Rebbe explained in the previous chapter, that in reality they do not “exist”.

Why, then, do we nevertheless perceive created beings as enjoying a tangible “existence”? — Only because we are unable to see or comprehend the Divine utterance that is contained within each created thing and that calls it into being.

The Alter Rebbe illustrated this by considering the sun’s rays. When they are not within their source, the sun, but diffused throughout the expanse of the universe, they are perceived as having independent existence. However, when they are contained within the sun-globe they clearly have no such “existence” at all.

From “Today’s Tanya Lesson” (Listen online)
Shaar Hayichud Vehaemunah, beginning of Chapter 4
Sivan 12, 5772 · June 2, 2012
Chabad.org

"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