Tag Archives: community

Who Am I Now?

At the event I took the opportunity to ask Rabbi Boteach a question having to do with historical context. I challenged him over his claim that Christians seeing the Jewish Jesus would lead to a more human understanding of Jesus, which in turn would lead to a more tolerant Christianity. My problem with such a claim is that we have ample historical precedent from the history of Jewish-Christian relations that an emphasis on the humanity of Jesus does not necessarily lead to greater tolerance of Jews. On the contrary, it can lead to anti-Semitism by focusing attention on the cause of Jesus’ suffering. This was the case during the high Middle-Ages. Christians “discovered” the humanity of Jesus. This led to a plethora of artwork showing Mary with baby Jesus actually drawn with baby features and gave us the Christmas creche we have today. This also led to an emphasis on Jesus’ physical suffering on the cross. The divine Jesus could never possibly feel pain; only the human Jesus could suffer. Rabbi Boteach response was that the Jews were not responsible for the death of Jesus, the Roman were. This is in fact a major point of his book. While this answers the question whether Christian readers will take Rabbi Boteach’s arguments to anti-Semitic conclusions, it does not answer the question I was asking of why we should be willing to draw a straight line between a human Jesus and a tolerant Christianity when historically this has not necessarily been the case.

“Kosher Jesus’ Lack of Historical Context”
Book review of Rabbi Shmuley Boteach’s Kosher Jesus
from Izgad

This isn’t a review of Boteach’s book Kosher Jesus from a Christian point of view, but reading it did make me start to think about the “Christian point of view” and whether or not I actually have one. I don’t. I realized in reading this blog post that I haven’t the faintest idea how “traditional Christians” see the world, at least from an actual “lived” experience, even though I call myself a Christian.

So why do I call myself a “Christian?”

Frankly, for lack of any other way to describe myself as a person of faith. My wife, who is Jewish, considers me a Christian. Everyone who I know who is Jewish considers me a Christian. Ironically, many of the Christians I know call me a “Messianic Jew.” I find this last part rather surprising (and uncomfortable) since, not being Jewish, I can’t be any sort of “Jew,” Messianic or otherwise. According to many Messianic Jews I know, I can’t be “Messianic” either, since being “Messianic” is considered a Jewish designation. Technically, as far as it’s been explained to me, the Gentiles cannot have a “Messiah” as such. We can have a Savior, or Lord, or Prince of Peace, but the Messiah came for “the lost sheep of Israel.”

I call myself a “Christian” to try and avoid any confusion about who I am. I am not a Jew so calling me a “Messianic Jew” is completely inappropriate. Calling myself a Christian announces that I am a Gentile who believes in Jesus Christ, just as millions and millions of Gentiles have been Christian across the vast expanse of history. Since I”m also vehemently non-supersessionist, I am also at odds with some and perhaps many other Christians, which is one of the reasons why I don’t go to church.

Even though some Jewish people consider me “Judaically-oriented” or having a heart and mind for Judaism, it has occurred to me lately (and again, referring back to the Izgad review of Kosher Jesus), that I might not fit all that well into a Jewish setting, either. It’s one thing to read and study Jewish commentary and studious texts and another thing entirely to be part of a community. It occurs to me that when my wife says the Rabbis at the local Reform and Chabad synagogues “tolerate” the presence of Christians in their midst (as long as they don’t try and proselytize the Jews at shul), that “tolerate” may be in the sense of tolerating a splinter under your fingernail or the discomfort caused by a repetative motion injury. You can handle it being around, but it’s not exactly enjoyable…and it would be a relief when the thing you are “tolerating” is finally gone.

That’s my projection, of course, but I think it’s reasonable. In reading Jacob Fronczak’s blog post Why I Go to Church, part of what he is saying is that he must “tolerate” some aspects of church communal life. It’s not perfect and it’s not going to be. That would be true for me as well if I were to attend a church (though I suppose they’d have to learn to “tolerate” me if I ever chose to actually open my mouth and say what I was thinking). To emphasize my “differentness” from how “regular” Christians think, I have to say I’ve received my first criticism on my recent article Origins of Supersessionism in the Church. My critic, a Christian, and a person I have no reason to believe is anything but honest, sincere, and well-grounded in the faith, states that many of the historical wounds between Messianic Judaism and the church are well on their way to healing at this point in our relationship, but the tone and attitude of my article, has resulted in ripping open some of the scars and pouring salt into the reopened injuries. I don’t seem to be doing “Christian” very well.

So if I’m a Christian, it’s because the label is the closest and most accurate approximation that represents my faith, but I’m a Christian who would not easily fit into either a church or synagogue setting. I’m nearly nine months into my current “experiment,” the primary goal of which was to join with my wife and, as a married couple, worship together within a Jewish context. It hasn’t worked out well thus far. With just a little more than three months left before I decide to continue toward my goal or to pull the plug for good on my hopes, it has become increasingly unlikely that I will achieve anything I started out aiming for.

I don’t actually have to confront the “where do I go from here” question until the end of May or perhaps early June (and keep in mind these time frames are completely arbitrary and self-assigned), but it’s not too early to start thinking about the question. If I had to frame an answer today, I would have to say that there are no options for community that meet my requirements. Facing that would mean facing the consequence of having no tangible faith community for the long term and possibly for the rest of my life.

I don’t fit in. Even if I did find a community where I personally fit in, chances are very high that my wife wouldn’t, and one of the primary requirements for achieving my goal is to worship with my wife. If someone were to offer me a practical option for community that fit me personally “hand in glove,” it would still be lacking if it didn’t fit my spouse as well.

So, who am I? I’m a Christian who doesn’t think very much like a Christian but to be honest, I don’t think very much like a Jew either. I’m the fish in the game Marco Polo who is always “out of water”. If I can’t say that I’m a “freak of nature” I have to say that I’m probably a “freak of faith.” I’m not trying to sound pathetic, but this blog is centered on my “experiment” so it represents, among other things, a chronicle of my progress or lack thereof.

Oh, interesting thing about the reviews of the Boteach book. I’ve found numerous Jewish and Messianic Jewish book reviews, but I have yet to find even one single review written by a Christian. If Rabbi Boteach had hoped to reach not only the Jewish community, but the church with his book, he doesn’t seem to have achieved his goal either, at least up until now.

Island Under Heaven

Under heavenThere is no security this side of the grave.Harlan Ellison

Very little is needed to make a happy life; it is all within yourself, in your way of thinking.Marcus Aurelius

Joy is an overflowing, an explosion. Something enters a person’s life for which he could never be prepared and his previously tidy self erupts in song, dance and joy. Approach the Divine with a calculated mind and there is no window for joy. Embrace the infinite beyond mind and let joy surprise you.

-Rabbi Tzvi Freeman
“Explosive Joy”
Meditations on Happiness
Based on letters and talks of the Rebbe
Rabbi M. M. Schneerson
Chabad.org

I know in one sense, God does not require us to live happy or satisfied lives and certainly, many of His servants, the Prophets and the Apostles, did not live happy lives. In fact, most of them died under less than optimal circumstances. Nevertheless, Paul did say:

I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength. –Philippians 4:12-13

This tells me that our circumstances don’t have to dictate our perception of life or of ourselves as long as we rely on God as the source of our strength. Of course, in verse 14, Paul went on to say, “Yet it was good of you to share in my troubles”, so for Paul, having a community to share his experiences with was not out of the question.

I’ve been considering matters of community and connection along with learning and growing closer to God. For some time, I have desired to study and worship with my wife and, since she’s Jewish and doing so is not an option in a Christian format, I have sought to meet her where she is and to honor God in a synagogue setting. Also, and this should be obvious to anyone who has been following my blog posts, I find Jewish theology, philosophy, and mysticism fascinating and indeed, a window into the soul of the Messiah, so deepening my understanding within a Jewish context is also something I desire.

But there’s a difference between wanting and having and there’s a difference between ideals and human beings. While I find a great deal of meaning in many of the writings produced by Rabbi Tzvi Freeman and the Chabad as well as religious Judaism in general, I am also aware that there are real people with real lives behind what I read and study. No religion or group of religious people is perfect and if we are human, we are flawed. Those flaws can get in the way of reaching community, fellowship, and purpose and sometimes desiring community with people can be confused with desiring union with God.

In yesterday’s blog, I discussed the roadblocks preventing me from achieving my stated goals, but maybe I’m confusing the ideal of what I want with the reality what I’m encountering. I may also be confusing how God sees and judges me with how human beings see and judge me. I am aware that many of the traditional values held by Christianity are incompatible with Judaism, especially based on how both religions have evolved over the past 2,000 years or so. Yesterday, I quoted a Jewish person who brought this to light, at least on the Christian side of the equation.

“Christianity has to realize its error in deviating from what the original sect taught and practices before that connection can be made, before that door can be entered through. Only then will hope be found.” –said by S

Night trainI think part of what I’ve been looking for is both the Biblical and Rabbinic ideal in how God is understood and taught, but what I have been encountering is the problematic relationship between Christians and Jews in the real world. It’s also easy to get caught up in the idea that feeling like I’m being pushed aside or pushed away means that I’m not good enough for that group. At least that’s how I see it sometimes.

Given all this, some Christians reading this might wonder why, besides the fact that I am married to a Jew, I pursue the Jews as the keepers of the Bible and the gateway to its understanding?  Why won’t I abandon this particular path and pursue a more normative Christian journey? Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel in his book God in Search of Man quotes A. Jeremias, Juedische Froemmigkeit, p. 57 with the answer:

Christian..Gellert, when asked by Frederick the Great: “Herr Professor, give me a proof of the Bible, but briefly, for I have little time,” answered: “Majesty, the Jews.” (Heschel p. 246)

Heschel (p. 255) also quotes from Seder Eliahu Rabba, IX, ed. M. Friedman, Wein, 1902, p. 48 when he declares that the revelation of the Bible is not for the Jew alone.

There is a grain of the prophet in the recesses of every human existence. “I call heaven and earth for witnesses that every man, whether gentile or Jew, whether man or woman, whether man-servant or maidservant, according to the measure of his good deeds, the spirit of holiness rests upon him.”

How like the words of Paul in Galatians 3:28. Heschel further demonstrates why I look east to Jerusalem with my questions about God and punctuates my dilemma in wondering how I will ever get an answer.

Never before and never since has such a claim been expressed. And who will doubt that the claim proved to be true? Has not the word spoken to the people of Israel, penetrated to all corners of the world and been accepted as the message of God in a thousand languages? (p. 243)

Our problem, then, is how to share the certainty of Israel that the Bible contains that which God wants us to know and to hearken to; how to attain a collective sense for the presence of God in the Biblical words. In this problem lies the dilemma of our fate, and in the answer lies the dawn or the doom. (p. 246)

I know ideally (there’s that word again) that I should seek to please God and not people (Acts 5:29; Galatians 1:10), but as Paul pointed out in Philippians 4:14, it would be good to share myself with others. However, reality, whether “dawn” or “doom”, is what it is and given my particular theological preferences and the nature of a perfect world vs. a real one, I may have to accept that although drawn to the gates of Judaism, I am not always welcome in Jewish communities because of my faith. In that I must also realize I am still “good enough” as the person I am, even though I must stand apart from those people and from my goal. That part about being “good enough” is hard for me to understand though, in light of the value of continual self-improvement and especially knowing that no one is righteous (Ecclesiastes 7:20; Romans 3:10).

RainIt’s rather premature to declare my experiment a failure, but I may end up having to accept truncated results. While human beings have limits and construct barriers, God does not inhibit us from approaching Him with an open and contrite heart. Even in Judaism, it is acknowledged that God has not rejected the Gentiles (although how they believe God sees Christians is another story) and of course, the very heart of Christianity opens the door for the nations to have access to God, specifically through the person of Jesus Christ.

In the end, community or isolation, acceptance or non-acceptance, I can still pray, I can still read, I can still study, and I can still write and share who I am and what I am learning during these “morning meditations”. If anyone deems them of value, I am certainly grateful, but more than people, I must share who I am with God, not that He doesn’t know me already, but because part of a relationship is to share yourself with the other. Being a writer, this is how I best share and communicate what I experience when I immerse myself into the pools of God’s perfect wisdom. Again, Heschel has something to say on this point.

The Bible is holiness in words. (p. 244)

If God is alive, then the Bible is His voice. (p. 245)

Almost 400 years ago, John Donne wrote that “no man is an island”. I suppose in general, that’s true. At other times though, I can see myself as a single, tiny bit of flotsam floating on an infinite sea waiting for God to toss me a line and bring me to His shores. A better metaphor, given the approach of Sukkot, is to say that I’m that imperfect and incomplete booth or tent, empty of guests and exposed to the harsh elements, who also is sheltered by the roof of Heaven.

A voice says, “Cry out.”
And I said, “What shall I cry?”
“All people are like grass,
and all their faithfulness is like the flowers of the field.
The grass withers and the flowers fall,
because the breath of the LORD blows on them.
Surely the people are grass.
The grass withers and the flowers fall,
but the word of our God endures forever.” –Isaiah 40:6-8