Tag Archives: Christianity

The Equality Puzzle, Part 3

To be perfectly blunt: I must say the Christians have robbed the Jews! And perhaps what is worse is that this thievery has been encouraged by theologians, pastors, and even Sunday School teachers, where small children are taught to sing the song, “Every promise in the book is mine, every chapter, every verse, every line.”

Every promise in Scripture in some way benefits Christians, but it is not all promised to Christians. Sometimes the thievery has been inadvertent and unintentional. It’s like thinking that the raincoat hanging in the office closet is yours for wearing home because of unexpected showers. Hopefully, you will discover the raincoat belongs to a fellow worker and you will restore it. It is not as if Christians do not have the greatest promise of God, which is 1 John 2:25: “And this is the promise that He hath promised us, even eternal life.”

Moishe Rosen
from his Foreward to Barry Horner’s book
Future Israel: Why Christian Anti-Judaism Must Be Challenged

This is Part 3 of a four-part series. Go to Part 1 and Part 2 if you haven’t already read them.

I know that Mr. Rosen was addressing concerns with the traditional Christian church and the effects of Christian supersessionism on the Jewish people, but given what I said in Part 2 of this series, he could just as easily have been addressing Christian “One Law” proponents. I know “thievery” seems like a strong term to apply to people who want nothing but to obey God and all of the Torah mitzvot, but from a Jewish point of view, (even a “Jews for Jesus” point of view in the case of the late Mr. Rosen) that’s how it looks.

But Rosen says something curious at the end of the above-quoted statement. He says, “It is not as if Christians do not have the greatest promise of God, which is 1 John 2:25: “And this is the promise that He hath promised us, even eternal life.”

The greatest promise of God means that we Christians are the direct beneficiaries of the promise of eternal life. What more do we want of God but what He has already granted us by His bountiful grace and mercy?

However, as human beings, we have a tendency not only to want what we can’t have, but to believe that we’re being shortchanged if, for instance, “Moishe” has been given a unique gift or responsibility that was not granted to “Barry” as well.

Then what advantage has the Jew? Or what is the value of circumcision? Much in every way. To begin with, the Jews were entrusted with the oracles of God. –Romans 3:1-2 (ESV)

I agree, being a Jew, including a “Messianic Jew,” has many advantages in relation to God. But saying that, and getting back to Mr. Rosen for a moment, I believe there are many advantages to being a Gentile Christian as well.

In the “Messianic” world, there’s a sort of covert bit of jealousy going on, at least with some of the non-Jewish participants, because these Gentiles see the beauty and wonder of living a Jewish religious lifestyle and they desire to live that life as well, but without converting to Judaism. More conservative elements in Messianic Judaism are echoing Moishe Rosen’s words and crying “foul” when One Law Christians demand the right to be obligated to the full weight of performing the 613 mitzvot, including those behaviors that specifically point to Jewish covenant status and Jewish identity markers. Those Jews cry out, (again, echoing Rosen) “Hey, that’s my raincoat. Give it back,” and in response the “Jewish raincoat wearing” Gentiles retort, “It’s mine, now.” as if they’re still singing the old Sunday School song,Every promise in the book is mine, every chapter, every verse, every line.”

I said clearly in Part 2 of this blog series that there is nothing preventing the Christian who finds meaning and beauty in the Torah from adopting many of the mitzvot in their worship lives. Please, you can joyously light the candles on Shabbos, pray the Shema, and daven facing toward Jerusalem. You can even feed the hungry, visit the sick and imprisoned, help a lame person cross a busy street, and give abundantly to charitable causes. All of these are Torah mitzvot and if performing these deeds brings your heart closer to God, who am I as one lone Christian to tell you that they are forbidden you?

Oh wait.

What did I say? What were those mitzvot again?

I’m trying to clean up something that has become terribly muddied and messed up in translation. In “hosing off” the muddled confusion, I have “discovered” (no, it’s no great secret) that a great deal of the Torah is stuff that Christians all over the world have been doing for uncounted centuries. You want to “obey Torah?” It’s not complicated in its essence. Love God. Love your neighbor. Love justice. Do mercy. Smile at a stranger. Hug a small child with a scraped knee. Honestly, where’s the mystery? How hard is it to obey God? It’s a no brainer.

If, in the middle of all that, you want to order Kosher meals on your next international flight, or wear a head covering to honor the God who is always above you, I don’t think there’s much of a problem. No one is locking you out of the Torah or keeping the God of Israel hidden in a room with a sign on the door that says, For Jews Only.”

D.T. LancasterBut I keep saying that Christians are not Jews and I also keep saying that there are great advantages to being a Christian. But what are those advantages, I mean besides eternal life through Jesus Christ, our Lord? If there are advantages to Jews that uniquely belong to Jews, can the same be said about Christians?

I should say at this point that even if, beyond having our sins forgiven, coming into a “right relationship with God,” and being granted eternal life, there are no other “special advantages” to confessing Christ and coming to faith in the Jewish Messiah, is it really our place to complain to God about it? Hasn’t He done enough for us? If he chooses to assign additional obligations to the Jew, including the Messianic Jew, that He does not apply to the Gentile Christian, isn’t that God’s right? Maybe we can apply one of the Master’s parables to our own situation by way of an answer.

And when evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his foreman, ‘Call the laborers and pay them their wages, beginning with the last, up to the first.’ And when those hired about the eleventh hour came, each of them received a denarius. Now when those hired first came, they thought they would receive more, but each of them also received a denarius. And on receiving it they grumbled at the master of the house, saying, ‘These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.’ But he replied to one of them, ‘Friend, I am doing you no wrong. Did you not agree with me for a denarius? Take what belongs to you and go. I choose to give to this last worker as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or do you begrudge my generosity?’ So the last will be first, and the first last.” –Matthew 20-8-16 (ESV)

I know it seems as if I’m contradicting myself because the parable is actually about how God’s love, grace, and salvation are applied in equal measure regardless of what age a person is when they come to faith. That is, everyone, no matter who they are or how old they are, eight years or eighty, when they become disciples of the Master, receives the same gifts from God as equals. Couldn’t this also mean that the obligations of Torah should be distributed evenly to both Jew and Christian as equals?

But look at it another way. The workers who were hired early and worked longer received the same wages as the workers who were hired later and worked less…and the “early hires” were ungrateful and jealous, even though it’s the Master’s money and he can pay as he pleases.

It’s also God’s Torah and He can apply it as He pleases. Are we really going to “get in God’s face” and kvetch about it? Just how ungrateful and ungracious do we want to be?

So what advantage is there in being uniquely Gentile Christian? As Paul might say, “much in every way.”

Instead of attacking Christianity, Messianic Gentiles would do well to focus on what is good about Christianity. This is necessary for several reasons, not least of which is the fact that Messianic Gentiles, as stated above, are Christians. Just as important, though, is the impact this positive attitude will have on any effort to bring Christians to recognize the Jewish roots of their faith.

It isn’t difficult to find good things to say about Christianity. First, Christianity has brought billions of people to Yeshua, the Jewish Messiah and King of the Jews. This is a non-trivial accomplishment. Even some Jewish scholars have recognized the significance of this fact. In Hilkhot Melakhim 11:10–12, Maimonides credits Christianity with preparing the Gentile world for the arrival of King Messiah by spreading knowledge of the Bible far and wide. If even those who do not claim Yeshua as Messiah can affirm the good that has come from Christianity, certainly believers should be able to as well.

Second, Christianity has helped uncountable numbers of poor, hungry, destitute, abandoned people. Myriads of counselees—drug abusers and alcoholics, victims of abuse, troubled spouses—have benefited from a pastor’s biblical advice. From Carey and Wilberforce’s campaigns against satī in India to the modern phenomenon of “adopting” starving African children, Christians everywhere have expended their resources to help those less fortunate. Today, Christian orphanages in India take in abandoned children with nowhere else to turn, just as devout Christian George Müller did over a century ago in England.

Most of these people—the poor, the abandoned, the disenfranchised, and the abused—will never understand how Yeshua fulfilled the Passover. They may never taste matzah. They may never utter a single word of Hebrew or even be able to read the Bible in their own language. Yet they rely, just as we do, on the saving grace of God through Yeshua the Messiah.

-Boaz Michael
from an early manuscript of his forthcoming book
“Tent of David: Healing the Vision of the Messianic Gentile” (pp 50-51)

For nearly twenty centuries, the church has preserved the Gospels of Christ and the letters of Paul, James, Peter, and others, and that “good news” has brought countless millions of human beings into covenant relationship with God. How many people found faith who would have otherwise been hopelessly lost without the church? How many people have been given clothing, food, medicine, companionship, mercy, and kindness by Christians whose only motivation was to serve the Savior and to the will of God? I admit that many terrible things have been done in the name of Jesus, but that’s the fault of flawed and damaged human beings, not the will of the Creator of the Universe. When we actually do His will, it always is for the good.

But you might be saying right now, “So what? Haven’t Christians have always done that?”

I’ll answer that question and more in the Fourth and final part of this series.

Addendum: Derek Leman has written a blog post called Is MJ Guilty of Jewish Elitism? The theme is substantially similar to this series of “meditations” and I recommend that you stop by Derek’s blog and have a read.

What’s Important Now?

When you try to help others and they don’t listen to you, you have a choice. You can say “it’s impossible to help them” and blame them for not being more open. Or you can view the situation as your own lack of proficiency at influencing and motivating others.

A blame-free attitude is the best path to choose. This can motivate you to develop your skills and talents on how to persuade, influence, and motivate. It could be that what you said is exactly what this person needs. As you enhance your presentation skills, in the future you will influence others to follow your beneficial suggestions.

-Rabbi Zelig Pliskin
“Develop your Motivational Skills”
Daily Lift #570
Aish.com

Oh my! This could be applied to every blogger who has ever tried to convince (often in vain) an audience why their point of view is correct and why his/her audience should change their minds and adopt the blogger’s perspective/belief/faith/whatever.

Really, how many blogs and how many comments on those blogs are specifically dedicated to the blogger blaming the audience (or at least those people in the audience who disagree with him/her) for being blockheaded, stubborn, ignorant, and “impossible to help?”

More than I can count, I’m sure.

So what should we do with this piece of advice? Should we redouble our efforts as bloggers, assume that our presentation skills are lacking somehow, and focus on how better to “influence others to follow our beneficial suggestions” in future blog posts?

Is Rabbi Pliskin’s advice here the answer?

A person who feels joy when performing mitzvahs will forget all his suffering and misfortunes. In comparison to becoming closer to the Almighty, of what import is pettiness and trivialities?

A person who experiences joy in doing good deeds will feel greater joy than a person who finds a large sum of money. Why should a person expend his efforts trying to find happiness in areas where the basis is transient and ultimately meaningless, when he has a far better alternative?

I suspect it is the answer, if we were to take Rabbi Pliskin seriously and actually apply his suggestion to our lives in a consistent manner. Unfortunately, we who continue to participate in the blogosphere, either as active bloggers or the observers who don’t blog but who frequently comment on the blogs of others, take ourselves way too seriously (me included). This is true in spite of the fact that there are probably well over 181 million blogs in the world right now. As far as U.S. bloggers are concerned, our “right” to have our say and express our opinion seems to have reached crazy, chaotic, out-of-control proportions, thanks to cheap, high-speed Internet access and the ability to create a blog for absolutely no cost in just a few minutes.

So what’s the answer, what’s the answer, what’s the answer?

I’d like to say “turn it all off,” but I know how difficult that would be in my own case, so I can hardly make that suggestion to others. But Rabbi Noah Weinberg, of blessed memory, makes that exact suggestion, at least in part.

Imagine someone calling you an idiot. Or that you’re stuck in traffic. Or that the boss is hassling you.

When this happens, you can become angry and caught up in the pettiness of life.

The remedy? Take a moment to go outside and walk under the stars. When you witness the vastness of the universe, it puts things into perspective. When you come back inside, you won’t be starry-eyed. You’ll be energized. You’ll say, I’m sorry. Let’s forget it and move on.

Awe helps release you from the limits of the body. You are suddenly in a world of different dimensions, transported into the eternity of beauty, power, majesty. You’ve got an expanded perspective. It’s no longer me versus you. We’re all one. So why be aggravated?

Awe carries us beyond ourselves. In times of war and tragedy – as well as prosperity and joy – people get “bigger.” They treat each other nicer. Pettiness is forgotten.

Anytime you’re in a rut, blast yourself out. Take a walk under the stars. This will unleash the power. You cannot be bored or petty when you are in awe.

The ultimate source of awe is, of course, God. Since we often can’t directly experience God, we usually must “settle” for experiencing the reminders of Him that He has left for us; that is, His universe, His creation.

It’s ironic that when we compare ourselves to the vastness of God and His Glory, we feel very small, and humbled, and yet at the same time, grateful and even exhilarated. We don’t feel jealous that God is so big and we are so tiny. We don’t resent God for being omnipotent while we are so powerless.

And yet let another human being or another group of people claim some heritage, some experience, some relationship that we ourselves don’t have access to, and suddenly we’re deeply envious, hurt, and outraged. We feel victimized. We feel as if our “rights” have been violated. Why can’t we have the same access to what “those people” claim is uniquely theirs?

Yes, of course I’m talking about the current (and seemingly endless) debate between certain corners of Christianity which can be thought of as “Hebrew Roots” or more specifically “One Law” and the various Judaisms, including “Messianic Judaism.”  The struggle is fueled by those who find in the Bible the justification for “One Law” Christians to have the “right” to everything that God granted Israel as a perpetual gift at Sinai, which is the heritage of every Jew on earth today. Naturally, when Jewish people hear such rhetoric, they tend to “push back.”

I suppose this too is an “issue” that we people who were born and raised in the West and specifically in the U.S. have to deal with, since “our rights” are all we tend to think about (or is that “our entitlements?”) relative to what other people have that we want.

But what should we have learned by now as people of faith? What did Jesus teach? To claim our rights? To take what wasn’t given to us? What did he teach that we seem to be forgetting?

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

Did Jesus “teach Torah?” Absolutely! What else would a Second Temple period itinerant Rabbi teach to the “lost sheep of Israel?” Did he expect his disciples to take his teachings and pass them on through imitation and active “preaching?” Absolutely! That’s what disciples do. Do we see Jesus overtly teaching Jewish covenant signs and identity markers to his Jewish audience? Not as such, since each Jew in Roman-occupied “Palestine” would have been raised from birth to know all these things. In other words, for a Jew in that place at that time,  knowing how to tie tzitzit would have been a “no-brainer.”

So what did he teach and what did he expect his Jewish disciples to pass on to the disciples from the nations? (Matthew 28:18-20) What were his most important commandments?

A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. –John 13:34 (ESV)

Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” –Matthew 22:37-40 (ESV)

That takes us right back to what Rabbi Pliskin said earlier:

A person who feels joy when performing mitzvahs will forget all his suffering and misfortunes. In comparison to becoming closer to the Almighty, of what import is pettiness and trivialities?

It’s pointless to fuss and argue over God and His special relationship with the Jewish people. After all, God gave the nations of the world the most precious gift possible; the life of His one and only son, the unique one, the Messiah, who died so that our sins could be forgiven and who lived so that we could have eternal life with the Father as His own sons and daughters.

The next time someone says something outrageous about religion (or anything else) on the Internet and you want to fight back and stand up for your rights, step away from the keyboard. Go outside. Experience the awesomeness of a thunderstorm or the magnificence of the starry, starry night. Perform a mitzvah such as visiting a sick friend in the hospital or donating a few canned goods to your local food bank. Retire into a quiet place and pray, turning your heart away from your own small concerns or hurt feelings and turning your spirit toward God.

After you have done that, ask yourself, “What’s important now?”

Do I need to take my own advice? Yes. Fortunately, Shabbat is coming up. When sundown approaches, I can put away the Internet and return my heart and spirit more fully to the God of all creation, may His Name be blessed eternally and without end.

Journey to Reconciliation, Part 1

Had the Hebrew roots movement started off on a different trajectory, there would never have been a need for me to say this. To most Christians, saying that “the Church is good” will sound ridiculous in its self-evidence. Yet the Hebrew roots movement’s rhetoric against Christianity and the church as been escalating for years and shows no signs of abating. For someone who is just learning about the movement, this rhetoric is often an immediate turn off – and rightly so. There is nothing anti-Christian or anti-church about the authentic core message of the Jewishness of Jesus.

-Boaz Michael,
President and Founder of First Fruits of Zion (FFOZ)
from an early manuscript his forthcoming book “Tent of David”

I had only been a Christian for a few years when I was introduced to the Hebrew Roots movement. I probably wouldn’t have entered the movement at all if not for my wife’s involvement (which she has long since exited). I was just finally getting comfortable in my church. I was just beginning to feel like I was fitting in. I was more at ease about participating in discussions in Sunday school. I had been asked to be one of the ushers during services. I was making friends. I felt like I belonged.

But through a long string of circumstances (not unlike the long string of circumstances that resulted in me becoming a Christian after the age of forty), I started attending a “Messianic Jewish” congregation. This was in the late 1990s and frankly, I didn’t know Messianic Judaism or Hebrew Roots (related concepts, but not the same thing) from anything else. But it was new and exciting and they said and taught such amazing things about Jesus, or rather “Yeshua” as he’s referred to in Hebrew. Everyone was nice (just like at church) and it was a small enough venue to where I could meet and get to know everyone fairly quickly.

But among the things I learned about was that our hands are stained with blood. More to the point (and I’m borrowing that phrase from Michael Brown’s somewhat famous book on the topic), the church is stained with blood; Jewish blood.

I won’t take this opportunity to recount to you the long and troubling history of the Christian church, especially in how it treated the Jewish people, the pogroms, the inquisitions, the spreading of the vast net of supersessionism across the world, the frightening twists of such a theology that in part, made the Holocaust possible. Others have chronicled all of this information exacting detail. I have no need to do so here.

But back then, I had no idea.

I began to realize that although I maintained my faith in Jesus, the method of my introduction to the Jewish Messiah occurred in a place that was actively opposed to his being Jewish. It was actively opposed to the Jewish people. It taught that the Jews were no longer the chosen ones of God and that they had been replaced by the Gentile Christians. How could I possibly stand for that? My wife and three children are Jewish.

It was a horrible realization.

So I went to a “congregation” and not a church. I was a “Messianic Gentile,” not a Christian. I only called the Jewish Messiah “Yeshua,” never Jesus. I wore a kippah when I went to worship and donned a tallit gadol when I entered into prayer. I haltingly prayed in very bad Hebrew using photocopied pages of a transliteration of the prayers. I only read the Apostolic scriptures (never calling it the “New Testament”) using David H. Stern’s The Complete Jewish Bible. I read the Tanakh, not the “Old Testament.”

My departure from my old church wasn’t clean. We still attended both congregations. My kids were very well-integrated into the church’s youth group and it would have been difficult to just abruptly detach them from the relationships they had there. I started to talk to my Christian friends about Yeshua, and the Torah, and Moshe, and how Paul was really “Rabbi Shaul” who taught the Gentile disciples to obey Torah.

I was treated politely but the distance began to grow between me and the people who I had just started to feel comfortable around. It didn’t help that the church was going through an upheaval at the time. The board had dismissed the Pastor for not “growing” the church to their ambitions (I still remember Pastor Jerry very fondly) and they hired a dynamic (but not nearly as personable) Pastor who had a degree in “church growth” or something like that. I disagreed with their methods and their reasoning and the rift between me and the church I had come to faith in expanded, finally to the breaking point.

This did nothing but add to the rather negative impression of Christianity I was learning from the Hebrew Roots congregation I was also attending.

I want to make it clear at this point that no one in the Hebrew Roots congregation was hostile or aggressive in terms of Christians, Christianity, or “the church.” They were (and are) all people of good will and faith who sincerely believed everything they were saying. But part of what they were saying is that traditional Christianity had gone astray and was leading many innocent people down the wrong path. The only hope was to leave the church and to form Hebrew Roots congregations that were more in keeping with Torah and the teachings of Yeshua, our Master.

I learned a great deal about Yeshua, Torah, Moshe, and my responsibilities to the mitzvot of God from FFOZ’s Torah Club as it existed back in those days (a lot has changed since then).

I won’t try to describe everything that’s happened in the last twelve years or so. Suffice it to say, I’ve changed quite a bit. I’ve spent a long decade plus investigating, examining, and growing in my faith. At this point in my life, just a few years shy of sixty, I realize how very little I really understand.

Christianity is slowly changing. I know several Pastors of Christian churches who have realized that the replacement theology that has typically been represented and taught in churches is not a sustainable doctrine. They are, much like Anglican priest Andrew White, realizing that we cannot be Christians without knowing that the root of our faith resides in the Jewish people and in Judaism. But that doesn’t mean we have to abandon our churches and our Sunday schools and “reinvent” our faith by creating new congregations which borrow from Jewish religious practices, customs, and identity markers.

I don’t disdain the people in my former Hebrew Roots congregation. I still am friends with them, though we don’t often see each other. I continue to believe that they are pursuing their faith, the Messiah, and the God of Israel in an honest, sincere, and holy manner. The congregation as I left it and as it was every day I attended, never spoke against the church or against Christians. For virtually its entire existence, the congregation met in rooms rented from local churches. One church, which occasionally loaned us the use of their youth building for no cost, felt that helping us was their outreach to the Jewish people (though we had virtually no one attending who was halachically Jewish). All of our High Holiday and other festival celebrations took place in churches. Many Christians, including several Pastors, attended our Passover seders each year.

The church was good to us.

The church is good.

As I’m sure you’re aware, I not only write frequently on topics involving Hebrew Roots and Messianic Judaism, but I visit and occasionally comment on related blogs. I don’t comment on all of them because sadly, some are rather uncomfortable with my opinions and beliefs and some actively speak against the church, Christianity, and Christians. While not all Hebrew Roots congregations (as I’ve mentioned) are characterized by a specific rejection of Christianity, the movement as a whole (and the movement is diverse in the extreme, ranging from highly organized congregations, to fragmented Bible studies and small family living room worship groups) has an identity based on a sense of being victimized by the church.

In my time in the Hebrew Roots movement, I’ve met many people who felt betrayed by their churches and their Pastors. They were (and probably still are) angry and hurt, and their outlook on Christianity is fueled primarily by their emotions and in some cases, by what their Hebrew Roots congregational leaders are teaching to reenforce those feelings.

Again, I want to be extremely careful and say that many, many Hebrew Roots groups are not like this at all, but many, many more are, and the wedge separating Hebrew Roots believers and the traditional church of Jesus Christ is getting wider every day.

Ironically, this doesn’t mean that the relationship between Hebrew Roots as a whole and the traditional Jewish synagogue is getting any closer. Having ties in both the local Reform and Chabad groups, I can tell you that it’s much more likely for a traditional Christian to visit and be accepted in a Shabbat service or Hebrew class than it is someone from the Hebrew Roots movement, especially if the Hebrew Roots person begins “explaining” to the Rabbis what they’re doing wrong, criticizing the Talmud, or otherwise appearing to denigrate (even without meaning to) how Jews practice and understand Judaism.

So where is Hebrew Roots today and what exactly went wrong?

I haven’t sent out questionnaires or performed a scientific survey of the entire Hebrew Roots movement as it currently exists, but based on everything I’ve said so far (and over a decade of experience within the movement, including contact with dozens of congregations), I’d have to say that Hebrew Roots is wholly isolating itself both from Christianity and from Judaism.

Startling, I know. I’m sure I’ll get some “pushback” for saying that.

Again, this isn’t absolutely true of each and every Hebrew Roots congregation, but the movement as a whole, including all of the highly diverse and mixed groups, families, and individuals involved, is drifting further away from unity with both its “Hebrew” root and its “Apostolic” root.

How can this be fixed?

There are two basic populations in Hebrew Roots. The first population, and in fact, the vast, vast majority population, is Gentile Christian. That is, people who are not Jewish who came into Hebrew Roots from the church. Only a tiny minority could be considered authentically Jewish, according to accepted halachah, by having a Jewish mother. Most of the “Jewish” members may have a Jewish grandparent or more distant relative and by virtue of that relationship, consider themselves Jewish, but they were never raised in a Jewish home, never had a traditional Jewish education, and otherwise, never experienced anything “Jewish” until entering the movement.

(I should say at this point that the Hebrew Roots movement has been around long enough to where there are young adults who have been raised in Hebrew Roots, so their background, family experience, and education comes from that source…but that’s not the same as being raised by two Jewish parents who are observant in any form of religious Judism).

How this can be fixed depends on who you are, where you come from, and what you are willing to tolerate. To prevent this blog post from growing beyond all reasonable bounds, I’ll continue this presentation in tomorrow’s “morning meditation.”

There’s hope. There’s a way out of this mess, I promise you. The path leads to our being able to serve God, both Jew and Christian alike. There is a resolution between the church and the synagogue and between Christianity and true Messianic Judaism.

That’s the journey we will continue tomorrow with Part 2.

 

 

Jesus the Traditionalist Jew

However, the Jewish background of the ideas of the Jesus movement is only one piece of the new picture I’m sketching here. Much of the most compelling evidence for the Jewishness of the early Jesus communities comes from the Gospels themselves. The Gospels, of course, are almost always understood as a marker for a very great break from Judaism. Over and over, we find within the interpretations of them (whether pious or scholarly) statements of what a radical break is constituted by Jesus’ teaching with respect to the “Judaism” of his day.

Even among those who recognize that Jesus himself may very well have been a pious Jew – a special teacher, to be sure, but not one instituting a consequential break with Judaism – the Gospels, and especially Mark, are taken as the sign of the rupture of Christianity, of its near-total overturn, of the forms of traditional (Jewish) piety.

-Daniel Boyarin
Chapter 3: “Jesus Kept Kosher”
The Jewish Gospels

I’ve been slowly, very slowly reading Daniel Boyarin’s excellent book The Jewish Gospels and have written regarding my responses to his text in two previous blog posts: The Unmixing Bowl and The Son of Man – The Son of God. Daniel Boyarin is a noteworthy Talmudic scholar and Professor of Talmudic Culture in the Departments of Near Eastern Studies and Rhetoric at the University of California, Berkeley, so I’d have to say that, at least from my point of view, he knows his stuff. The book I’m reading contains an examination of the “stuff” about the ancient perceptions of Jesus and how it may not have been unusual at all for many Jews in the late Second Temple period to see Jesus as Rabbi, Messiah, Prophet, and indeed, Divine Son of God.

In the third chapter of his book, Boyarin examines the “Jewishness of Jesus”.

For anyone involved in the Messianic or Hebrew Roots movements, the fact that Jesus was (and is) Jewish and that he led a completely normative Jewish lifestyle as recorded in the Gospels is no surprise, but it may have been to Boyarin when he first encountered the “good news” of the Master. I still think that Boyarin isn’t personally convinced that Jesus is Messiah King or Son of God, but he does seem to be strongly suggesting that it is no mystery why Jews in the Holy Land 2,000 years ago (and even more recently in many parts of the world?) would believe that he was.

The portion of Boyarin I quoted above aptly defines how most modern Jews and Christians see the role of the Gospels: as defining a sharp break from Jews and Judaism in the teachings of Jesus and the establishment of the very “unJewish” Christian religion. But as we already know, this was hardly the case.

Counter to most views of the matter, according to the Gospel of Mark, Jesus kept kosher, which is to say that he saw himself not as abrogating the Torah but as defining it. There was controversy with some other Jewish leaders as to how best to observe the Law, but none, I will argue, about whether to observe it. According to Mark (and Matthew even more so), far from abandoning the laws and practices of the Torah, Jesus was a staunch defender of the Torah against what he perceived to be threats to it from the Pharisees.

Boyarin characterises the Pharisees as “a kind of reform movement…that was centered on Jerusalem and Judaea (and who) sought to convert other Jews to their way of thinking about God and the Torah.” It’s interesting (since I’ve never heard this interpretation before) that Boyarin characterizes the tension between Jesus and the Pharisees as one of interpretation of halakah. According to Boyarin, the Pharisees may have represented the establishment of religious practices that were formed during the Babylonian exile “while the Jews who remained in the land continued their ancient practices.” Jesus, Boyarin asserts, supported the more ancient Jewish practices and was actually a Torah conservative and traditionalist compared to the “radical innovations in the Law stemming from the Pharisees and Scribes of Jerusalem.”

We usually see Jesus (at least those of us to perceive him as a wholly Jewish man and teacher living a life consistent with the covenant of Sinai) as interpreting the “true” Torah in opposition to the “leaven of the Pharisees” who made up all kinds of stuff and were totally hypocritical. Boyarin suggests that the struggle between the two “Judaisms” may have been one of traditional halakah (Jesus) vs. reform interpretation (Pharisees and Scribes).

Far from being a marginal Jew, Jesus was a leader of one type of Judaism that was being marginalized by another group, the Pharisees, and he was fighting against them as dangerous innovators. This view of Christianity as but a variation within Judaism, and even a highly conservative and traditionalist one, goes to the heart of our description of the relations in the second, third, and fourth centuries between so-called Jewish Christianity and its early rival, the so-called Gentile Christianity that was eventually (after some centuries) to win the day.

I realize that Boyarin’s opinion is a minority view among both Jews and Christians, but it is compelling to consider that the “original” Jesus Christ was not only a Jew who never broke the Laws of Moses or taught others to break them, but was a teacher who was strongly advocating for a return to a very conservative and traditionalist interpretation of Torah relative to the normative Judaism of those times.

Wow.

Imagine what that might mean to 21st century Christianity and Judaism. Imagine what that might mean to the movement we call “Messianic Judaism,” which is struggling tremendously to establish its own Jewish identity and connection to the other Judaisms of our modern era. Jesus the Jewish traditionalist. Jesus the teacher of conservative halakah.

Like I said. Wow.

Apparently, Boyarin isn’t the only Talmud scholar who holds this opinion of the relationship between Jesus and the Pharisees.

Yair Furstenberg, a young Talmud scholar at the Hebrew University, has recently provided a convincing explanation of the basic controversy between Jesus and those Pharisees. Furstenberg writes that Jesus’ statement (see Mark 7:14-23) needs to be read literally that the body is made impure not through ingesting impure foods but only through various substances that come out of the body…

…This is a debate between Jews about the correct way to keep Torah, not an attack on the Torah. Furstenberg has brilliantly argued that in its original sense, Jesus’ attack on the Pharisees here is literal; they have changed the rules of the Torah…

Really. Consider this. The argument that most Christians interpret about whether or not Jesus made all foods clean had nothing to do with abrogating the kosher laws. It was an argument between different factions of Jews on what made a person impure, which was not eating food but coming into contact with certain objects and substances such as a dead body or certain bodily fluids (you’ll have to read the whole chapter to get the details since Boyarin’s analysis is lengthy). He even presents a different view of Pharisees as “hypocrites” which doesn’t quite fit with what most Christians believe:

We should remember, however, that “in general, in ancient Jewish and Christian contexts a ‘hypocrite’ is a person whose interpretation of the Law differs from one’s own,” as Joel Marcus has so sharply put it.

That statement recasts the Pharisees in the role, not as liars and frauds, but as Jews who had a (sometimes) radically different perspective on halakah from the more conservative interpretation of Jesus.

Of course, the vast, vast majority of people in the church and probably in the Christian colleges and seminaries won’t agree with this. Boyarin suggests a corrective solution, but I don’t know how many believers, scholarly or otherwise, would be willing to try it out:

When put into its historic context, the chapter is perfectly clear. Mark was a Jew and his Jesus kept kosher. At least in its attitude toward the embodied practices of the Torah, Mark’s Gospel does not in any way constitute even a baby step in the direction of the invention of Christianity as a new religion or as a departure from Judaism at all.

Mark is best read as a Jewish text, even in its most radical Christological moments. Nothing that Mark’s Jesus proposes or argues for or enacts would have been inappropriate for a thoroughly Jewish Messiah, the Son of Man, and what would later be called Christianity is a brilliantly successful – the most brilliantly successful – Jewish apocalyptic and messianic movement.

Those of you who have read more than a few of my blog posts know I’m no Biblical scholar. I don’t have the “chops” to adequately evaluate Boyarin’s perspectives relative to other learned texts and teachers and to determine how much evidence there is to support his assertions. However, in general, what he presents to his readers is quite consistent with what is believed by modern “Messianic Jews” and those Gentiles who are called to follow that path of faith.

Jesus was and is a Jew. This “Jewishness” is written all over the Gospels. Jesus never attempted to depart from normative Jewish practice in even the slightest manner and as we see, he may very well have been advocating for a return to the more conservative and traditional understanding and practice of ancient halakah.

Imagine what this will mean for Christians and Jews everywhere when the Son of Man returns in glory. Imagine what it will mean, and what it should mean, to all of us right now.

Worshiping the God of Israel and giving great and very high honor to the Jewish Messiah King within a completely normative Jewish context is not dead. In fact, when he comes back to us and establishes his throne, it’ll all just be getting started.

Love, God, the World, and Everything

“Just as the bride circles around the groom as an expression of yearning and love, so do we circle Jerusalem’s gates as we express our yearning to see it rebuilt, our yearning for the days when we will all be able to go up to the Temple Mount and to the [rebuilt] Temple, and not just walk on the perimeter road that surrounds the walls”, said Nadia Matar.

The18th Annual Walk Around The Walls – Jerusalem
By Yehudit Katsover and Nadia Matar
As quoted from Magic City Morning Star

The Jerusalem Talmud makes an astounding statement: “The generation in which the Beit Hamikdash, the Temple, is not rebuilt is to be regarded as though the Beit Hamikdash was destroyed in that generation.” The explanation is simple. When we mourn for the Beit Hamikdash, we are not mourning for a building that was destroyed 2,000 years ago. Our mourning must be directed to the realization that each generation is obligated to rebuild the Beit Hamikdash and that our failure to do so has little to do with politics, the debate over who has control over the Temple Mount, or the threat of the Arab nations to go to war if we disturb the mosques that sit atop the Temple Mount. The Beit Hamikdash will be rebuilt when a sufficient number of Jews make a commitment to change their lives. When will the Messiah come? As the Torah says, “Today, if you hearken to My voice.”

-Rabbi Pinchas Stolper
“Why Do We Still Mourn”
Excerpted from Living Beyond Time: The Mystery and Meaning of the Jewish Festivals
quoted from Aish.com

I really thought I was done blogging about Tisha B’Av and the Temple and was planning on continuing to write about how we in the community of faith can love, but Rabbi Stolper’s article was recommended to me by a friend on Facebook (one who I’ve met in real life…thanks, Michele), so I thought I should read it.

And I couldn’t stop reading it, and thinking, and then writing.

When writing about Tisha B’Av, I naturally tend to focus on grief and loss. It never occurred to me to see the annual event of marching around Jerusalem as an act of love. In retrospect, it should have been obvious to me. Now it always will be.

But as I mentioned yesterday, how we love and even why we love can be terribly misunderstood. When a Christian says that he or she loves all people made in the image of God, including gay people, the LGBT community and the atheist world tends to doubt that Christian’s sincerity, at least unless the Christian follows up by saying they wholeheartedly support “marriage equality.” I mean, how can you love gay people if you don’t support their desire to marry? But then, how can you love God, love the teachings of Christ, believe his definition that marriage occurs exclusively between a man and a woman (see Matthew 19:4-6 as it references Genesis 1:27 and Genesis 2:24) and still be expected to love a gay person only by supporting “marriage equality?”

The answer is that Christians will express their love in many and varied forms as God defines love, but not as absolute agreement and approval of all progressive social and political expectations.

But when you love Jerusalem:

If I forget you, O Jerusalem,
let my right hand forget its skill!
Let my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth,
if I do not remember you,
if I do not set Jerusalem
above my highest joy! –Psalm 137:5-6 (ESV)

But there’s a problem here:

Palestinians accused U.S. Republican presidential candidate Mitt Romney on Monday of undermining peace prospects by calling Jerusalem “the capital of Israel”, ignoring their own claims to the city and most world opinion.

Romney used the term on Sunday to sustained applause from his Israeli audience in the Holy City, during a trip to present himself as Israel’s closest ally ahead of the November 6 election contest with President Barack Obama.

“We condemn his statements. Those who speak about the two-state solution should know that there can be no Palestinian state without East Jerusalem,” chief Palestinian negotiator Saeb Erekat told Reuters on Monday.

by Jihan Abdalla
for Reuters
as quoted from news.yahoo.com

The Jewish people and Israel aren’t the only ones to have an interest in Jerusalem and the Temple Mount. Does loving Jerusalem, desiring that the Temple be rebuilt, and longing for the coming of the Messiah mean that the Jews fail at loving the Arab people? Do they even have an obligation to love and respect them? For that matter, since we Christians have a vested interest in seeing the Temple rebuilt (since prophecy states the Messiah; Jesus will be the one to rebuild the Temple in Jerusalem), do we have an obligation to love the Arab people who oppose this prophecy?

I can’t speak for the Jewish people, but as I said yesterday, as Christians we are obligated to love, even our “enemy.” Remember though, this isn’t “enemy” as in an enemy in war, but someone we encounter, someone in our environment, someone who needs God’s love as we can express it though acts of compassion and charity. Who’s to say who is our “enemy” or a “neighbor?”

Which doesn’t mean we have to agree with their politics or even their religion.

I can’t answer the question of how the Temple will be rebuilt and what happens to El Aqsa mosque, which is currently located on the Temple Mount. I leave that up to God. However, some Jewish people have a more definite solution as we see in Katsover’s and Matar’s news story:

Later in his (MK Prof. Aryeh Eldad, co-leader of the Erets Israel Knesset Lobby) speech he referred to the future of the El Aqsa mosque, located on the Temple Mount, as he sees it, and said that we can learn one thing from Beit El’s Ulpana Hill deal, and that is the idea of sawing. “There is one thing we can all learn from one of the most questionable deals we have made lately, and that is what happened at the Ulpana Hill, where they decided to dismantle and relocate the houses, rather than destroy them. At least, when the time comes to reconstruct the Temple, and that time is coming, we will dismantle and relocate the “house” that is currently there. We will cut it up and they can relocate it wherever they want, because that’s where the Third Temple belongs”, called out Eldad over the applause of the crowd.

I can’t imagine many Palestinian Arabs “feeling the love” for Prof. Eldad as he compares disassembling and moving the El Aqsa mosque to the way Jewish homes have been taken apart and removed from so-called “occupied” land, and reassembled in those parts of Israel the Palestinians formally recognize as Israel (at least for the time being). I can imagine that they’d experience Prof. Eldad’s words as about as loving as those of Mr. Romney when he declared that all of Jerusalem is the capital of Israel.

In other words, Palestinian Arabs would not hear any love at all.

It seems as if, at least from a Christian point of view, we have a conflict between our religious and theological priorities and the command to love other human beings. If we, for example, insist that “marriage equality” is in direct opposition to the definition of marriage that Jesus gave us, then we are perceived as not loving gay people. Or if we, using another example, believe that Jesus will return and construct a third, physical temple on the Temple Mount in Holy Jerusalem and re-establish Israel as not only a Jewish nation, but the head of all the nations of the earth, the Arab world will certainly not experience us as loving them, either.

So is this an either/or situation? Do we either stick to our theological guns, or toss the Bible, God, and faith out the window in order to blend in and disappear into the progressive social and political masses?

Or is it an either/or situation?

We are often told by atheists, progressives, and politically liberal religious people that Jesus loved unconditionally. But did he?

“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’

“Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not clothe me, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ Then they also will answer, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to you?’ Then he will answer them, saying, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’ And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.” – Matthew 25:34-46 (ESV)

I have to believe that Jesus loves unconditionally as God the Father loves humanity unconditionally, but that doesn’t mean we are all free to do as we please with no consequences, just because of that love. Apparently, Jesus has standards and expectations. Not everyone will be acceptable to him in the final judgment. There will be distinctions between people depending on how or if they expressed love in terms of feeding and clothing the needy and visiting the hospitalized and imprisoned, to take the examples presented in the verses above.

Jesus didn’t say that we had to love other people by agreeing with everyone’s social, political, religious, and national priorities. Loving others, as we see here, doesn’t obligate us to adopt everyone else’s behavioral and social desires, just as God’s unconditional love for us doesn’t absolve us from the consequences of our disobedience to Him.

I was recently reminded that the New Testament uses 1 Corinthians 13 as the “crystalization” of Christian love. Love is considered the greatest expression of faith and indeed, is greater than both faith and hope.

But love is not blind and it is not ignorant, nor should it be swayed by whatever issue is considered important or critical in this week’s mainstream news stories. But love is patient and love is kind and love perseveres, so when we struggle with the world around us, when we are condemned and called names because our love does not precisely match up with another person’s wants and desires, our response is not to attack those who are attacking us. To do so, makes our words nothing more than a “noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.”

We must remember that God has been infinitely patient with us. It’s not that he has approved of all of our foolishness, our mistakes, our willful disobedience. But we know that He is slow to anger and abundant in mercy and kindness. If we’ve learned anything at all as disciples of the Master, it’s that we need to be patient, too. We must have patience with our critics and patience with ourselves when we want to respond with anything less than grace.

And we must remember that the source of our love doesn’t flow from today’s headline story on MSNBC, or what happens to be trending on twitter or Facebook. The source of our love surges like waves directly from the heart of God.

Trust is the child of love, for where love showers down, trust will grow.

And since it is a child, the reciprocal is also true: As the child’s call awakens a parent from deep sleep, so trust awakens the love that gave birth to it.

Provide love, trust will be born from it.
Demonstrate your trust, and it will awaken love.

So it is with a child and a parent. So it is with two good friends. So it is with any marriage. Your love may hibernate in deep sleep, but you have trust that the other holds love inside, and in that trust, love awakens once more.

So it is with the love affair between your soul and her Beloved above. Trust that He is in love with you, and your love will awaken.

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

Giving Life

The Jews of Vitebsk, if you want to know the truth, at the time were known not to be generous givers to charity. When money needed to be raised for a worthy cause, it was no simple matter to extract hard currency out of them without applying a good deal of pressure. To their credit, however, it must be said that the Vitebskers could always be counted on to provide food for the hungry; indeed, the Talmud states that giving ready-to-eat food is greater than giving money to charity because it provides immediate relief, while the benefit of money is indirect.

One day a chassid from Vitebsk came to see the Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Lubavitch (the third Chabad Rebbe, 1789-1866). He told the Rebbe that his only son was about to be drafted into the Russian army. Previously, only-sons were exempted automatically, but this year there was a new, tough policy and their precious child was in danger. “Please, Rebbe,” he entreated, “help us, save us.”

Rabbi Menachem Mendel shook his head sadly: “I’m sorry, I cannot help you in this matter.”

-Rabbi Yerachmiel Tilles
“A Plate of Food”
Tales from the Past
Chabad.org

What does stinginess with money, a willingness to feed the hungry, and an only son of a chassid being drafted into the Russian army have in common? On the surface, not very much, but Rabbi Tilles’ commentary tells the whole tale.

But not quite all of it as you’ll see.

The chassid, after much begging and pleading, could not change the Rebbe’s answer, so he turned to another option, the Rebbe’s youngest son, with whom the chassid was good friends. The chassid beseeched the Rebbe’s son (and his eventual successor, Rabbi Shmuel 1834-1882; known as the Maharash), and the young Shmuel promised he would do what he could to change the Rebbe’s response. But when Shmuel approached his father with the matter, he was given the same answer that the Rebbe gave the chassid: “I cannot help him at all.”

Shortly thereafter, the Rabbi Menachem Mendel summoned his son to his study and asked him to bring a Midrash Tanchuma. The Rebbe leafed through it to the week’s reading of Mishpatim, and showed his son section 15 there, concerning the verse, “If money you will lend” (Exodus 22:24):

Says the Holy One, blessed be He: “A poor person was struggling for his life, to escape starvation, and you gave him a coin and saved his life. I promise that I will pay you back ‘a life for a life’: If tomorrow your son or daughter will be seriously ill or in any life-threatening situation, I will remember the good deed that you did… and I will repay you ‘a life for a life.’ “

Rabbi Shmuel was perplexed. What did his father have in mind in showing him this passage?

A few days later, the news reached Lubavitch that the chassid’s son had been released, and for no apparent reason. The Rebbe was visibly delighted by the report.

But there was a reason, at least according to Chassidic midrash (remember, we have no way of telling if this story is even remotely factual…but that’s not the point). There was something important in the lesson the Rebbe taught his son a few days earlier. What had the family of the draftee done to merit that their son be released from service and the restoration of his life? When questioned, neither parent could think of anything special. Then the boy’s mother thought of something.

“That very day, a poor person came to the house and asked us to give him something to eat. At first we told him that we were so worried about our son who was going to be drafted that day that we really couldn’t deal with him. But then he pleaded with us: it had been a long time since he had eaten anything at all and he was starving, and how could it be that a Jew did not have time or food for another Jew who was so hungry! We realized our mistake and served him a huge meal, from what we had prepared to be a special farewell meal for our son. None of us had the appetite to eat anyway, because we were so upset. Then…”

While this is a very inspiring tale, why should we pay any special attention to it? The story is like a thousand other stories of the Chassidim. What can it teach a Christian about kindness, charity, and giving life?

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

So consider the next time someone needs a helping hand from you, even when you are in distress yourself, even when you are distracted by your own problems, and even if your problems are serious, such as the impending loss of your only son. The gift of one small morsel of food (and if it’s a huge meal, so much the better) to a hungry man may make a tremendous difference, not only for the hungry man, but for you.

Turn away from evil and do good; seek peace and pursue it. –Psalm 34:14 (ESV)

Maybe you’re thinking I’m being unreasonable. Maybe you’re thinking that I can’t be serious. Maybe you’re thinking that it would be too hard for you to help another person while facing a crisis of your own. And yet, God calls us to serve Him under all circumstances. Certainly we expect Him to serve us no matter what we’re going through and no matter what else is happening in the world.

You and I are only flesh and blood and bone. We’re weak. How can we stand up under the pressures of life and still be expected to help someone less fortunate than we are? There are two ways to express the answer:

You have to keep moving forward. As long as you’re holding on to where you were yesterday, you’re standing still.

-Rabbi Tzvi Freeman
“Don’t Just Stand There”
Based on letters and talks of the Rebbe
Rabbi M. M. Schneerson
Chabad.org

Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming. What do we do? We swim, swim.

Dory

Do good. Seek peace. Keep swimming.