Tag Archives: covenant

Nitzavim and Rosh Hashanah: Renewing Covenants

…the word nitzavim the core of the blessing given by G-d does not mean merely “standing.” It implies standing with power and strength, as reflected in the phrase: nitzav melech, “the deputy serving as king,” i.e., G-d’s blessing is that our stature will reflect the strength and confidence possessed by a king’s deputy.

This blessing enables us to proceed through each new year with unflinching power; no challenges will budge us from our commitment to the Torah and its mitzvos. On the contrary, we will “proceed from strength to strength” in our endeavor to spread G-dly light throughout the world.

What is the source of this strength? Immutable permanence is a Divine quality. As the prophet proclaims: (Malachi 3:6.) “I, G-d, have not changed,” and our Rabbis explain that one of the basic tenets of our faith is that the Creator is unchanging; (See Rambam, Guide to the Perplexed, Vol. I, ch. 68, et al.) nothing in our world can effect a transition on His part. Nevertheless, G-d has also granted the potential for His unchanging firmness to be reflected in the conduct of mortal beings, for the soul which is granted to every person is “an actual part of G-d.” (Tanya, ch. 2) This inner G-dly core endows every individual with insurmountable resources of strength to continue his Divine service.

-Rabbi Eli Touger
“Standing Before G-d”
from the “In the Garden of Torah” series
Commentary on Torah Portion Nitzavim and Rosh Hashanah
Chabad.org

In just a few days, every religious Jew on earth, including many three day a year Jews, will be standing before the God of their forefathers and participating in events that are thousands of years old, and in a modern response to a very ancient commandment. Christianity has nothing like it. Not even Easter comes close. And yet, it’s not something that God “does” to the Jewish people, but rather, Rosh Hashanah is a fully interactive and participatory event, must like what Rabbi Touger describes in this week’s Torah Portion, where the Children of Israel stand before God and consciously, fully, willingly, and interactively accept upon themselves the Covenant of Sinai and the resultant conditions of the Torah.

What a strange God we have who wants to interact and participate with His people in such Holy rites.

There is a great secret in the drama of Rosh Hashanah. It is the mystery of a Creator asking His creations to participate in the birth of their own world and of themselves. He asks the created beings to ask Him to create them.

The wonder of Rosh Hashanah is between Him as He is Above and Him as He is in within us.

-Rabbi Tzvi Freeman
“The Mystery of Rosh Hashanah”
Based on letters and talks of the Rebbe
Rabbi M. M. Schneerson
Chabad.org

We ask to participate; we are expected to participate in the creation of our own world, of our own lives? How crazy is that? OK, how “mystic” is that?

But then again, how crazy is it to pray to an invisible, unknowable, all-powerful Supreme Being in His Heavens, and expect that He’ll even be willing to listen, let alone answer our humble and sometimes, not-so-humble requests?

For the entire month of Elul, the Jewish religious world has been doing a slow wind up to the High Holidays. Gradually at first, Jews have been praying, studying, repairing damaged relationships, treating people with just a little more respect. Then with more frequency, giving to charity, visiting a sick friend in the hospital, going to shul and davening with a minyan, joining a Talmud class. Finally, at a frenetic pace, making sure they have (if required) tickets for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur services, preparing their homes, sending greeting cards, praying three times a day including the Bedtime Shema, and on and on and…

It’s almost here. Rosh Hashanah begins at sundown this coming Sunday. Erev Shabbat, the Shabbat before the Holidays, is just a few short hours away. It’s here, it’s here, it’s here! “Am I ready?” many Jews ask themselves. “Is my soul ready?” Who is ever really ready for such and awesome encounter with God at such a critical time of year?

In all of this, Jews, and maybe a few Christians, can’t help but think of “covenant connection,” “promises,” and “blessings” …and “curses” maybe. It’s very exciting and exhilarating…and intimidating.

But in spite of God’s “bigness” and “vastness” and “infiniteness,” He wants, He demands a relationship with His people Israel and through them, with the rest of us. After all, that’s the point of a covenant. Rabbi Touger’s Torah commentary continues:

Our Torah reading continues, stating that the Jews are “standing today before G-d” for a purpose: “To be brought into a covenant with G-d.” (Deuteronomy 29:11.)

What is the intent of a covenant? (See Likkutei Torah, Devarim 44b.) When two people feel a powerful attraction to each other, but realize that with the passage of time, that attraction could wane, they establish a covenant. The covenant maintains their connection even at times when, on a conscious level, there might be reasons for distance and separation.

Each year, on Rosh HaShanah, the covenant between G-d and the Jewish people is renewed. For on Rosh HaShanah, the essential G-dly core which every person possesses rises to the forefront of his consciousness. Thus the fundamental bond between G-d and mankind surfaces, and on this basis a covenant is renewed for the entire year to come, (See the essay entitled “At One with the King” (Timeless Patterns in Time, Vol. I, p. 3ff)) including the inevitable occasions when these feelings of oneness will not be experienced as powerfully.

We Christians don’t think of having a time when our covenant with God is renewed, since we consider coming to faith in God through Jesus Christ as a singular event in our lives. Jews, by comparison, are born into the covenants, and thus, even a completely non-religious Jew has no choice about being Jewish, even if they choose to disregard every single mitzvot. Then again, I suppose there’s a reason why some Jewish people are “three day a year Jews,” much like how some Christians only go to church on Easter. If you have an awareness of your relationship with God, even peripherally, He draws you back to Him at times like these.

We Christians don’t renew our covenant relationship with God annually, or at least we don’t think of our holidays as having that impact. On the other hand, as I’ve come to realize recently, our covenant relationship with God does not stand apart from the Jewish people. God made His covenants with Israel and through the Abrahamic and “New” Covenants, we among the nations are granted blessings. The blessings come from God, to the Jewish people, and from the Jewish people to us, by way of the Jewish Messiah King, so that no one has to perish but everyone can come to life eternal.

In our prayers, we say: (The conclusion of the Shemoneh Esreh prayer, Siddur Tehillat HaShem, p. 60.) “Bless us, our Father, all as one.” This implies that standing together as one generates a climate fit for blessing. (See Sefer HaSichos 5700, p. 157.)

May our standing before G-d “as one” on Rosh HaShanah lead to a year of blessing for all mankind, in material and spiritual matters, including the ultimate blessing, the coming of Mashiach.

May all mankind, every man, woman, and child, be blessed by God.

Good Shabbos and L’shanah tovah tikatev v’taihatem; May you be inscribed and sealed for a good year.

The Jesus Covenant, Part 1: The Foundation

I said the New Covenant applies to non-Jews the same way the Abrahamic does: some specific provisions are Israel-specific (land, great nation, bless those who bless you) while the blessings of the covenant are for “all the families of the earth” and “all nations.” Even before the New Covenant was initiated in Messiah’s death (initiated but not fully enacted) non-Jews were invited to God’s blessings in countless Psalms and prophetic passages and in the general invitation to wisdom.

Non-Jews are to read in Israel’s Torah and prophets and writings and find wisdom and righteousness. There is not a separate covenant. It is the covenant with Israel to be read along with Israel.

-Derek Lemen describing the content
of his recent video on Covenants

I was wrong.

I bet that’s not something you read in the blogosphere everyday.

I was used to thinking that Christianity had a separate and wholly contained covenant that connected the non-Jewish disciples of the Jewish Messiah to God. I couldn’t have been more mistaken. No wonder I couldn’t find a “discrete container” for this covenant anywhere in the Bible.

But what then? Are we Christians all existing inside an illusion? Did God never really intend for us to have a relationship with Him? I have to answer “no,” otherwise what was the whole point of Paul’s mission to the nations or Christ’s last command to his Jewish disciples in Matthew 28:18-20?

So where is this mythical covenant. I might as well start from scratch and ask what is a covenant? I grabbed a definition more or less at random from Carm.org:

A covenant (Hebrew berith, Greek diatheke) is a legal agreement between two or more parties. The word “covenant(s)” occurs 284 times in the Old Testament (as found in the New American Standard Bible). “Covenant(s)” occurs 37 times in the New Testament, which gives a total of 321 occurances (sic).

That’s probably not the best definition in existence, but it works.

Once I realized that I didn’t have an answer to a very basic question about my faith, I sent out a general “distress message” via email to the various people I trust to answer my honest but dumb questions. Derek Leman, whose qualifications include M.T.S in Hebrew Bible, Emory University and Rabbinic Studies, Messianic Jewish Theological Institute, was gracious enough to respond. Our set of email transactions included this:

Me: However, one of my problems is being able to point at the Bible and say “such and thus” chapter and verse is where you’ll find the “covenant with the Gentiles.” From what you said (and this is probably where my problem comes in), there is no central location for the “Gentile Messianic covenant.” It’s really a ratification of the previous covenants that allows the nations to partake within certain constraints. Correct?

Derek: Exactly.

I was recently criticized when I suggested that, to define the covenant that attaches the non-Jewish people to God, I’d have to do an inventory of different parts of the Bible. As it turns out, I was on the right track, but not quite right enough. We Gentile Christians are not attached to the God of Israel through Jesus Christ by a covenant that is specifically made with the nations. Instead, we receive blessings from already existing covenants that God made with the Jewish people.

But that presents a problem. If we Christians have a covenant relationship with God through covenants that were made with the Jewish people (Abrahamic and Mosaic, specifically) does that mean all of the conditions, requirements, and blessings of those covenants apply in exactly the same manner to us as they do to the Jewish people? In other words, does coming to faith in Jesus Christ make a non-Jewish person “Jewish?”

No, but this is the part that requires some work to discover.

There are three covenants that seem to apply: The Abrahamic covenant, the Mosaic covenant, and the New Covenant.

I’m borrowing heavily from Derek’s Covenants video here. Also, keep in mind, this information is really a summary. There’s a lot more detail that can be gleaned from a deeper look into each of these covenants.

Abrahamic

This is the covenant that God made with Abraham. You’ll find the announcement of the covenant in Genesis 12, the enactment of the covenant is in Genesis 15, and the sign of the covenant, which is circumcision, in Genesis 17. Derek explains that circumcision isn’t a requirement for the covenant to continue, but it is a requirement for Abraham’s descendants, through Isaac and Jacob specifically, to participate in the covenant. It is vitally important to recognize that the people of the Abrahamic covenant are Abraham’s descendants through Jacob, that is, the Jewish people.

Torah at SinaiSome parts of that covenant are only for the Jewish people, specifically the land, that Israel will be made into a great nation, that Abraham’s name will be made great, that those who curse you (Abraham and his descendants through Jacob) will be cursed, those who bless you will be blessed.

However, there are parts of the covenant that are not limited to the Jewish people. There are blessings in the Abrahamic covenant that are intended for the righteous of the nations; blessings for all the families of the earth through Israel. God’s blessing comes to Christians through Israel in that Israel gave Christians the Bible and the Messiah, and Israel will be the center of Jesus’ return and where he will establish his kingdom on earth.

Mosaic

This is the covenant that God made specifically with the Children of Jacob through Moses at Sinai, and the conditions of the Sinai covenant between God and Israel were given as the Torah. The sign of the covenant is the Sabbath.

“You are to speak to the people of Israel and say, ‘Above all you shall keep my Sabbaths, for this is a sign between me and you throughout your generations, that you may know that I, the Lord, sanctify you.'” –Exodus 31:13 (ESV)

Like the Abrahamic covenant, the people of the Mosaic covenant are the Jewish people. However, unlike the Abrahamic covenant, the Mosaic covenant contains no blessings for the nations. The Mosaic covenant of Sinai is applied only to the Jewish people. This means the keeping of the Sabbaths, including the weekly Sabbath and all of the Festivals, are specifically covenant signs between God and the Jews.

New Covenant

The New Covenant can be found in both Jeremiah 31 and Ezekiel 36 however, according to Derek, this is not a New Covenant made with the Christian church. The people of the covenant, just like the Abrahamic and Mosaic covenants, are the Jewish people.

“Behold, the days are coming, declares the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah, not like the covenant that I made with their fathers on the day when I took them by the hand to bring them out of the land of Egypt, my covenant that they broke, though I was their husband, declares the Lord. For this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, declares the Lord: I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts. And I will be their God, and they shall be my people. And no longer shall each one teach his neighbor and each his brother, saying, ‘Know the Lord,’ for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, declares the Lord. For I will forgive their iniquity, and I will remember their sin no more.” –Jeremiah 31:31-34 (ESV)

“Therefore say to the house of Israel, Thus says the Lord God: It is not for your sake, O house of Israel, that I am about to act, but for the sake of my holy name, which you have profaned among the nations to which you came. And I will vindicate the holiness of my great name, which has been profaned among the nations, and which you have profaned among them. And the nations will know that I am the Lord, declares the Lord God, when through you I vindicate my holiness before their eyes. I will take you from the nations and gather you from all the countries and bring you into your own land. –Ezekiel 36:22-24 (ESV)

Also, countering what many believers may think, the New Covenant doesn’t replace the older covenants but instead, expands upon them and continues to include the previous covenants with Israel. In fact, the exile the Jewish people had suffered from was a direct penalty cited in the Mosaic covenant (see Ezekiel 36:16-19). The end of this chapter in Ezekiel (vv 33-38) reads very much like a return of the blessings of the Abrahamic and Mosaic covenants upon God’s people Israel:

“Thus says the Lord God: On the day that I cleanse you from all your iniquities, I will cause the cities to be inhabited, and the waste places shall be rebuilt. And the land that was desolate shall be tilled, instead of being the desolation that it was in the sight of all who passed by. And they will say, ‘This land that was desolate has become like the garden of Eden, and the waste and desolate and ruined cities are now fortified and inhabited.’ Then the nations that are left all around you shall know that I am the Lord; I have rebuilt the ruined places and replanted that which was desolate. I am the Lord; I have spoken, and I will do it.

“Thus says the Lord God: This also I will let the house of Israel ask me to do for them: to increase their people like a flock. Like the flock for sacrifices, like the flock at Jerusalem during her appointed feasts, so shall the waste cities be filled with flocks of people. Then they will know that I am the Lord.”

Waiting for the dawnBut is that it? No, for like the Abrahamic covenant, although the people of the covenant are the Jewish people, there are blessings in the New Covenant that include all the nations of the world. These blessings are from God but they go through Israel to the nations. In fact, the blessings go from God, through Israel and specifically through Israel’s “first-born son,” the Messiah, Jesus, who we in the church call, “the Christ,” and then to us, everyone, anyone who comes to faith in God for the sake of Jesus, all the blessings through the Son of David.

“Behold, the days are coming, declares the Lord, when I will fulfill the promise I made to the house of Israel and the house of Judah. In those days and at that time I will cause a righteous Branch to spring up for David, and he shall execute justice and righteousness in the land. In those days Judah will be saved, and Jerusalem will dwell securely. And this is the name by which it will be called: ‘The Lord is our righteousness.’ –Jeremiah 33:14-16 (ESV)

This is only the foundation of my search for the “Jesus Covenant.” Obviously it doesn’t answer all the questions about how what is being said here connects further on down the road to the coming of the Messiah and the gathering of the people of the nations into the blessings I’ve (or rather, that Derek has) mentioned.

But it’s a start. I’m probably not the only Christian who hasn’t really explored the connections in the covenant blessings that bind us to God, so I hope a few others reading this will benefit. I don’t know if I can produce a second part of this series immediately. I’ll probably end up doing some reading and the High Holy Days are very near now. I trust that you’ll be patient. Of course, if those of you, like Derek, who are learned in such matters, choose to contribute to my “knowledge base,” either through email or by commenting here, I wouldn’t object.

“Jealousy comes from counting another’s blessings instead of your own.”

-Anonymous

To continue with this series, join me for Part 2 of The Jesus Covenant.

What Are The Jewish Covenant Signs?

Question:

I have a few Jewish friends who wear kippahs and sometimes when I’m hanging out with them I feel out of place. Even though I am not Jewish, would there be any problem with me wearing a kippah, too?

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

Well, on one hand, the Pope wears a kippah.

But on the other hand, a non-Jew should not wear a kippah, since that might deceive others into thinking that he is Jewish.

In practice, non-Jews will sometimes wear a kippah while attending a Jewish religious function (many world leaders have been photographed at the Western Wall wearing a kippah), but in general a non-Jew should not wear one, due to the confusion it may cause.

However, since the idea of a kippah is to have the head covered as a reminder of God, you could certainly use some other head covering, like a cap, to serve that purpose.

from Ask the Rabbi
“Kippah for a Non-Jew”
Aish.com

At last spring’s First Fruits of Zion Shavuot Conference during a question and answer session, a gentlemen in the audience said that he sometimes will visit churches wearing a kippah and tallit gadol as a “witness” to the Christians of the permanency of the Torah mitzvot. The person in question isn’t Jewish and when asked at church, will admit he is not Jewish but that, in his opinion, the mitzvot pertaining to wearing tzitzit and many others, apply equally to the Christian as to the Jew based on our discipleship under the Jewish Messiah King.

The reaction from the speaker at the event (I can’t recall who was speaking at that particular moment) was that this behavior introduces a great deal of identity confusion if Christians start dressing like Jews just to make a point. Reading the “Ask the Rabbi” topic I quoted above reminded me of that interaction and confirmed that Messianic Judaism and more traditional Judaism share the same perspective on Gentiles wearing Jewish “sign” markers.

I’ve often heard various Jews in the Messianic movement object to Gentiles wearing tzitzit, keeping Shabbat, and (apparently) observing the kashrut laws, as violating the “sign markers” that specifically identify Jewish people and their covenant relationship with God. The “pushback” I’ve read from One Law proponents and some others in the Hebrew Roots movement is that there’s a great deal of confusion about what Torah mitzvot is and isn’t permitted Gentile Christians, so how can anyone be held accountable to what may or may not be permitted?

From a more traditional Jewish perspective, I suppose the matter is more clear-cut, but in terms of the Messianic Jewish view on the matter, things seem a tad more indistinct. Some more “hard-line” folks in Messianic Judaism seem to believe that Gentile Christians should stay in their (our) churches and behave in no way whatsoever that resembles a Jew. Others, such as the fine folks at First Fruits of Zion (FFOZ), state that many and even perhaps most of the mitzvot are permitted a Gentile, but the vast majority of them are not actual covenant obligations for us.

Opinions seem to vary widely and that’s where the confusion comes in. If you are a Gentile Christian but are attracted to the beauty and wonder of the Torah mitzvot, and you want to express a high level of respect toward Jews and Judaism, what is allowed and what is not permitted?

My personal response, and out of respect for my Jewish wife, was to put away just about everything, my kippah, my tallit, my tefillin, and to abstain from reciting virtually all of the Hebrew prayers (I still keep a siddur on my nightstand, however).

But if I wanted to explore what a Gentile might be allowed that normally is considered “Jewish,” then where are the boundaries and limits, or are they clearly defined at all?

In my search, (which has been rather brief so far) I actually didn’t find much.

In general, a brit refers to a covenant–a pledge of obligation between two parties which is sometimes accompanied by a token signifying the brit. Historically, there have been three signs that point out the three major covenants between God and people.

The first is Shabbat, which was given to serve as a sign of creation: “The Israelite people shall keep the Sabbath, observing the Sabbath throughout the ages as a covenant for all time: it shall be a sign for all time between Me and the people of Israel” (Exodus 31:16-17).

The second is the rainbow, which was given to symbolize the renewal of mankind after the Noah flood: “God further said, `This is the sign that I set for the covenant between Me and you, and every living creature with you, for all ages to come. I have set My bow in the clouds, and it shall serve as a sign of the covenant between Me and the earth. When I bring clouds over the earth, and the bow appears in the clouds, I will remember My covenant between Me and you and every living creature among all flesh, so that the waters shall never again become a flood to destroy all flesh’ ” (Genesis 9:12-15).

And the last is [circumcision], which was established as the sign signifying the beginning of the Hebrew nation: “Such shall be the cove­nant between Me and you and your offspring to follow which you shall keep: every male among you shall be circumcised. You shall circumcise the flesh of your foreskin, and that shall be the sign of the covenant between Me and you” (Genesis 17:10-11).

Circumcision came to be regarded as the unique sign of our covenant and gradually emerged as a physical symbol of a child’s joining the com­munity of Israel.

-by Rabbi Michael Strassfeld & Sharon M. Strassfeld
“Three Biblical Signs of Covenant”
Aish.com

Really? Just three? Surely that can’t be it.

The Rainbow, circumcision, and Shabbat.

First off, the sign of the Rainbow that God presented to Noah applies to all of humanity, not just the Jewish people so that leaves only two that are specifically Jewish: circumcision, or the brit milah, and Shabbat.

This is my covenant, which you shall keep, between me and you and your offspring after you: Every male among you shall be circumcised. You shall be circumcised in the flesh of your foreskins, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and you. –Genesis 17:10-11 (ESV)

Therefore the people of Israel shall keep the Sabbath, observing the Sabbath throughout their generations, as a covenant forever. It is a sign forever between me and the people of Israel that in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, and on the seventh day he rested and was refreshed.’”-Exodus 31:16-17 (ESV)

That would seem to leave the field wide open for Gentiles to observe Torah mitzvot that are not signs of the covenant between God and the Jewish people.

But is it really that simple? Of course, not.

As the Aish Rabbi pointed out, even wearing something as simple as a kippah, which is not overtly commanded in the Torah, can create “identity confusion” as far as Jews, Christians, and everyone else are concerned.

Jewish in JerusalemA few “Messianic Gentiles” dress frum but that really isn’t such a problem. It’s more likely to see certain non-Jews wearing tzitzit, either attached to a tallit katan or far more inappropriately, on their belt loops.

I don’t know if it’s a crime, a sin, or just embarrassing to be a Gentile and to deliberately create the impression that you’re Jewish, (even if that’s not your exact intension) but it sure does mess with people’s heads as far as who a Jew is and isn’t.

However, I have to be fair and say that the Messianic Jewish movement doesn’t appear to have a very firm set of standards as far as behaviors that represent “covenant signs” telling non-Jews in the Messianic/Hebrew Roots movement what to avoid (that is, if the non-Jews choose to show respect to Jewish people).

If such standards exist and I’ve just missed them, I’d appreciate it if someone could point me in the right direction. If they don’t exist, maybe it’s time someone got around to addressing this issue. If at least some folks are going to make an issue of Gentiles and Jewish covenant signs, then we should all be able to point our fingers to a set of standards that defines what we’re all talking about.

Comments?

If God Loves You, Why Are You Complaining?

The angels glare in envy as the breath of G‑d descends below to become a human soul. Ripped out of the Infinite Light, it squeezes itself within meat and bones to experience that passion which belongs uniquely to earth below—and channel it towards its Beloved above. A new sort of love is born, a novelty to the cosmos and to its Creator: a fire within the human heart upon which the animal roasts, transformed to the divine.

“And G‑d saw all that He had made, and it was very good.” The sages tell us that “good” refers to the urge to do good, “very good” to the passion to do no good. The evil is not good, but the passion—if only it will find its true purpose—is very good.

For all that He made, He made for His glory.

-Rabbi Tzvi Freeman
“Human Passion and the Envy of Angels”
From the “Freeman Files” series
Chabad.org

I sometimes wonder what we complain about. No, I don’t mean “complain” in terms of being afraid, being sick, or some other such human problem. I mean “complain” like what happens in the blogosphere and in social networking venues. I mean “complain” like always needing to be “right” and being upset when someone else thinks we’re “wrong” and won’t just agree with us that we have all the answers. I mean complain like “I’m the good guy” and everyone who doesn’t agree with me are “the bad guys.”

That kind of complaining.

As we see from Rabbi Freeman’s midrash and metaphor, even the angels envy our special relationship with God. Not the Jewish relationship with God, and not the Christian relationship with God. The human relationship with God.

Even if you temporarily put aside any distinctions between Jews and Christians, between the various other religious groups, and between the many other differing bodies of humanity, we all have one thing in common that is very important.

We were all created in the image of God.

Even the angels can’t say that. No other living being that exists today or that has ever existed can say that. Just we poor, pathetic, mortal human beings can say that.

I’m tempted to quote the mostly over-quoted John 3:16 since it emphasizes God so loving the world and not some subsection of its population. I want to sometimes scream at some people to please get over themselves because things are the way things are, not the way you want them to be.

Tomorrow’s “morning meditation” and my commentary on this week’s Torah Portion talks again about the “choseness” of the Jewish people and why that’s not a threat to the rest of us (though you’d suspect otherwise by reading other religious blogs). Once you let yourself get past the unique relationship God has with the Jewish people through the giving of the Torah at Sinai, you can understand that none of that means God loves you or me any less or that somehow Jewish distinctiveness makes Christians second-class citizens in the Kingdom of God.

And yet, this week in the “Messianic blogosphere” I’ve noticed some authors sparing no effort in maligning individuals and reputations, even to the point of calling some Jewish Messianics “racist” in order to justify their positions and jockey for a superior spot in the race to significance.

But wait a minute.

Take one giant step backward and look at Creation and then picture yourself in the midst of it. That’s where you are. That’s where I am. That’s where we all are. God so loved you and me and all of us, that he sent His only begotten son so that if anyone, anyone at all, believes in him, he/she/they will have eternal life in covenant relationship with our Creator, with God.

Anyone at all.

Isn’t that good enough for you?

You have a life given to you by God. So do I. What are we supposed to do with it? B*tch about other religious people all the time because they don’t support our own special viewpoint about how we’re supposed to be more special than they are? Really?

Our Sages gathered these sections in an order … according to the requisite steps (Introduction to Path of the Just).

While character refinement is an important and desirable goal, we must be careful to stride toward it in a reasonable and orderly manner. Overreaching ourselves may be counterproductive.

Physical growth is a gradual process. In fact, it is not even uniform; the first two decades are a sequence of growth spurts and latency periods. Generally, the body does not adjust well to sudden changes, even when they are favorable. For instance, obese people who lose weight too rapidly may experience a variety of unpleasant symptoms. Although the weight loss is certainly in the interest of health, the body needs time to adjust to the change.

If we are convinced, as we should be, that spirituality is desirable, we might be tempted to make radical changes in our lives. We may drop everything and set out on a crash course that we think will lead to rapid attainment of the goal. This plan is most unwise, because psychologically as well as physically, our systems need time to consume new information, digest it, and prepare ourselves for the next level.

Luzzato’s monumental work on ethics, The Path of the Just, is based on a Talmudic passage which lists ten consecutive steps toward spirituality. Luzzato cautions: “A person should not desire to leap to the opposite extreme in one moment, because this will simply not succeed, but should continue bit by bit” (Chapter 15).

Today I shall …
… resolve to work on my spirituality gradually and be patient in its attainment.

-Rabbi Abraham J. Twerski
“Growing Each Day, Av 21”
Aish.com

Imagine if we all blogged the way Rabbi Twerski does. Imagine instead of sowing contention and discord between our own little religious factions, we resolved each day to be just a little bit better as a person than we were yesterday. There’s nothing in that sort of lesson that has any room for tearing other people down. Even if someone were to tear down Rabbi Twerski, I doubt if he’d spend any time (I don’t know this of course, I’m just supposing) using his space at “Growing Each Day” to post a rebuttal and complain about opposing opinions and oppositional people.

(I know I’m complaining right now too, but hopefully I’ll end on an up-note).

What is your purpose in life? Why did God put you here? Why are you still breathing, walking around, talking, and (possibly) blogging?

We were put here to love God and to love other people. Easier said than done to be sure, but hardly impossible. If you can do that through blogging, that’s terrific. Rabbi Twerski’s “Growing Each Day” series proves (to me, anyway) that you can do good through blogging. If writing isn’t your thing or you can’t do it without having to always comment that someone is wrong on the Internet, then close your web browser, log off your computer, step away from the keyboard, and find something to do that actually does serve the purposes of God. You don’t have to slay dragons or tilt at windmills.

Just do something that in some small way, is helpful to another person in the world, preferably without making a big deal about it or about you.

Ben Zoma says:
Who is wise?
The one who learns from every person…
Who is brave?
The one who subdues his negative inclination…
Who is rich?
The one who is appreciates what he has…
Who is honored?
The one who gives honor to others…

Talmud – Avot 4:1

Tomorrow, I’ll probably continue to complain, though it’s not why God put me here. Today, I just want to thank God I’m living and breathing and that I have a tomorrow in which I will wake up alive.

 

Struggling with the World, Part 2

From the anthropological perspective on the problem of evil, therefore, the prime concern is not so much to defend the notions of divine justice and power. It is rather, as in other personal relationships, to determine what measure of continuity, stability, and predictability can enable the relationship with God to survive all shocks. It is to identify the cluster of beliefs that supports a person’s will to persist in the face of tragedy and suffering. If the world I live in requires that I become overly vigilant because of the threat of danger striking at any moment, then how can I sustain commitment to a way fo life predicated on God’s covenantal love and justice?

How do we respond to events that can call into question our whole identity as God’s relational partners?

-Rabbi David Hartman
Chapter 8: “Rabbinic Responses to Suffering”
A Living Covenant: The Innovative Spirit in Traditional Judaism

Note: If you haven’t read Part 1 of this “meditation” already, please do so before proceeding here.

An atheist can dismiss such questions by dismissing God. The presence of tragedy, suffering, and evil can be accepted as conditions of a natural world filled with imperfect human beings. It can also be a world that, while imperfect, is struggling to develop toward a higher moral and ethical reality as indeed, progressivism strongly believes. Human beings then, establish and revise the foundations of our own morality, sometimes radically, as time advances and the concepts of rightness, mercy, and justice continue to evolve in societal consciousness.

The covenantal Jew on the other hand, perpetually wrestles with God as did Jacob (Genesis 32:22-32) before his confrontation with the (supposedly) murderous Esau. But it’s in that battle that a Jew struggles not only with God but with himself.

A covenantal religious consciousness is always vulnerable to self-doubt and to feelings of rejection and guilt. When suffering and tragedy have struck without any explanation once, twice, and repeatedly, individuals in the community no longer know what kind of world they are living in. Like Job, they may ask: “Why do You hide Your face and treat me like an enemy?” (Job 13:24)

-Hartman

But in Rabbi Hartman’s viewpoint, a Jew is not simply a conduit for the cosmic forces of an Almighty Being to use to manipulate the course of history or even personal events.

The acceptance of that responsibility therefore need not entail that paralyzing sense of guilt alleged in Paul’s criticism of the law. Nor does mitzvah demand unconditional obedience without rational discernment, since the halakhah expects from Jews not just a dedicated will to serve God but also a reflective, sensitive, and critical moral disposition.

This takes away the motivation for a covenantal Jew to say that “God told me to do it” when facing a moral decision or in responding to personal disaster. The Torah is not a static set of rules carved in stone but rather a moral imperative written on the living and beating heart of every Jew. Each situation must be examined and evaluated not only against the yardstick of tradition and the mitzvah, but as potentially a wholly new phenomenon that may require a completely unique and unanticipated response, framed within the organic, evolving Jewish moral and historical tapestry.

Returning to Rabbi Freeman’s commentary on Judaism and its response encountering the demands of a progressive culture, the Rebbe felt that modernity didn’t present a set of obstacles but only “challenges. Challenges chiding you to show your stuff. Show that stuff and do what a Jew has to do, and those challenges themselves lift you on their shoulders, carrying you high.”

To continue:

Every talk, every letter, every teaching of the Rebbe must be understood in that context: We are not prisoners within an ominous world; we are the agents of its Master. We are not here to placate the world, but to repair it; not to reform ourselves to its tastes, but to reform it to the tastes of its Creator; not to conserve Judaism, but to be an organic part of its flourishing growth; not to reconstruct it, but to use it to reconstruct our world. Because ours is not a Torah of the past, but one that beckons to us from a magnificent future.

The Rebbe’s response to the challenges of a world and its developing, progressive morality is to move one giant step backward and to take a “metaview” of that world. Human advancement and even human history is transitory. Modern liberal progressive thought acknowledges that morality is not a fixed entity and adapts across time and the needs of the human spirit. While the Rebbe no doubt had a more established sense of moral and ethical standards, he also understood that the world is not ownerless or that, human beings are not the only “landlords” of reality. The world has a Master and we are His agents.

The world of human events wasn’t something to be avoided, but to be encountered and wrestled with. Rabbi Freeman characterises the Rebbe’s response by saying that “he grabbed it by its horns and harnessed it to plow his field.” For the Rebbe, each Jew stands in this place:

When you stand in a place of enlightenment, the Rebbe so often taught, you may have boundless, infinite light—but you do not have G‑d Himself. In the void of light where this world was made; in the darkness of Jewish exile, where we must choose life from the depths and create our own light to find it; in a society that forces us to wake up, take the reins of our own lives and challenge everything—there we touch G‑d at the very core.

A Jew may be surrounded by darkness but he stands in a place of light and it is from that light, regardless of how hopeless the circumstance, he must proceed, carrying with him not only the strength of the traditions of the past, but the infinite hope of a future from which the Moshiach will emerge and where God will rescue His people. Atheism, progressivism, secular humanism are conditions to be wrestled with, to be “grabbed by its horns and harnessed,” but they are not defining, either of a Jew nor the world that is ultimately owned by God.

My understanding of all of this is that Judaism may wrestle with itself, with the demands of society, and ultimately with God, but it is the Jewish identity that remains the one constant that enables them as a people, to move forward, to survive not only challenges, but horrors, and that will see them finally standing at the foot of the throne of God, receiving His promises of life and peace.

As I’ve been writing this, I’ve been seeing a few elements that can be adapted to Christianity and those promises we expect to be fulfilled by our Master at the end of this age. But we must also learn to establish an identity that can engage our environment without fear or despair. Our “liability” as such, is that we Christians are commanded to not only encounter our neighbor and love him, but to attempt to convince him to adopt our faith and our worldview (which is something no Jew must face). In that, we present ourselves as agents of the world’s greatest benefactor while being perceived by many in the secular world as humanity’s greatest enemy.

We are ridiculed and reviled by atheists and humanists and in response, we struggle with our own doubts, retreat into concrete bunkers of inflexible dogma, or attack the inhabitants of an unbelieving world, thereby abandoning our evangelical imperative. But we can neither ignore the world nor hate it. We are commanded to live in it and to live with faith in God. Like the covenantal Jew, we must be anchored to our legacy who, for us, are the Apostles and disciples of ancient times, and also look to the hope of the future when Jesus returns.

In the meantime, like the Rebbe, we need to seize the world around us and live in it, though we are not of it. We must treat each person we encounter with love, respect, and dignity. Our values do not require that they respond in kind, only that we are consistent in imitating the example of our teacher and Master by being involved and by being a light.

We are not trapped between a hostile and violent army and a vast and unconquerable sea. We can move forward. The sea will part. But first, we have to get our feet wet.

Don’t be afraid.

Addendum: Just found an article at Commentary Magazine on liberal intolerance of religious folks (in this case, Jews) called Liberal Prejudice Against the Orthodox Crosses a Line. I can see we have a long way to go.

Struggling with the World, Part 1

I’m not arguing for either the superiority or the necessity of a covenantal orientation to life for the realization of human responsibility and dignity. In thinking about Judaism, I cannot ignore the fact that atheists act with moral dignity and compassion in the world. I believe, in contrast to many contemporary religious thinkers, that secular humanism is a viable and morally coherent position. What I am claiming is only that neither the critique of halakhic Judaism found in the Christian tradition nor the moral critique found in Spinoza is convincing. There are many different approaches to human life that encourage initiative, intellectual freedom, responsibility, and the sense of personal adequacy and dignity. I am not arguing that faith is necessary in order to have these values, but only that faith in a covenantal God of Judaism does not have to contradict or undermine them.

The God of Sinai does not merely hand over responsibility for the mitzvot to Israel and then take His leave. He also commits Himself to permanent involvement in the history of the community…

-Rabbi David Hartman
Chapter 8: “Rabbinic Responses to Suffering”
A Living Covenant: The Innovative Spirit in Traditional Judaism

I hadn’t intended to turn this into a series, but I find myself continuing to compare the relative merits of the moral and ethical positions of Christianity and, if not atheism as such, progressive secular humanism, which is the predominant philosophy of modern western culture. My previous missives on this topic are Collision, which is my introduction into why atheism holds such animosity toward Christians and Repairing Life which suggests one possible response.

That should have been the end of my reflections on “Religion vs. Atheism,” and it was from a Christian point of view, but I neglected to discuss how Judaism considers this dynamic. As with many things, there’s no single Jewish viewpoint (and I’m probably not qualified to write about this but I will anyway) so I’ll try to offer two: one from Rabbi Hartman’s above-quoted book and the other from Rabbi Tzvi Freeman and Chabad.org.

Whenever someone asks me a question, I first have to think, “What kind of a box has this guy trapped me in?” Then I can deconstruct the box. If the box dissolves, there goes the question. If it doesn’t dissolve, I better listen up. The guy’s got a point.

Here comes one now:
“Rabbi, what was the Rebbe’s response to modernity?”

For at least two hundred years, Jews scrambled to find a response to modernity.

Today, there’s no longer much scrambling. Movements have stopped moving, firmly entrenched. But there was a time when Jewish creative genius generated a cacophony of responses to modernity: Reform, Orthodoxy, Zionism, Religious Zionism, Conservative, Ultra-Orthodoxy, Reconstructionism, Modern Orthodoxy, Renewal and more. Each movement had leaders who spent their years zealously articulating and re-articulating their particular response to the progressive, liberal, enlightened, modern world that came rushing down upon us, particularly after France beheaded its kings and smokestacks started belching into the sky.

Now, in Brooklyn sat a Jewish leader who built up a powerhouse movement that has transformed the face of Jewry worldwide. What was his response to modernity?

Gotcha. Neat little box. But it doesn’t work. What doesn’t work? The box: “Response.”

Again, as I mentioned in my other blog posts on this subject, I’m not trying to “prove” that religion is right and atheism is wrong or even to say that one group possesses an inherently greater moral response to life than the other (although from my point of view, religion should have the greater moral response).

I want to show that the issue can be as simple as how much or how little of themselves people choose to invest in their particular belief systems and and also demonstrate that these matters are far more complex than what we think of as mere “right and wrong.”

Rabbi Hartman’s position might be considered the more progressive of the two based on the quote I used to open this “extra meditation.” Rabbi Freeman represents the more conservative view. He suggests that historically, Judaism has responded to modernity by generating multiple variations of Judaism to adapt to the demands of progressiveness, but currently seems to be digging its heels in, so to speak, as representative of the Orthodox. But as we see from continuing to review Rabbi Freeman’s commentary, even this isn’t as two-dimensional as it appears.

Rabbi Freeman uses the dilemma of Children of Israel trapped between an advancing and vengeful Egyptian army and the uncrossable barrier of the Reed Sea (Exodus 14) as a metaphor for the struggle of Judaism to respond to liberal modernity.

The Children of Israel are stuck at the Sea of Reeds. The Egyptian army is closing in fast. The Jews divide into four parties—four opposing responses to one situation, perfectly summarizing the orthodox responses of the modern era: The Just-Go-Back-to-Egypt response, the I’d-Rather-Drown-Myself response, the Get-Up-And-Fight response and the Get-Down-And-Pray response.

Response Today
Self-Drowning Immerse in a ghetto of Torah, and pretend the world does not exist.
Back to Egypt Give up on the world, on the future, or on trying to change anything. Just do what you have to do because G‑d says so.
Fighting Prove that we are right and they are wrong.
Praying Rely on G‑d to bring Moshiach real soon.

G‑d’s response? You’re all wrong.

“Why are you crying out to me?” G‑d demands of Moses. “Speak to the Children of Israel and tell them to keep going forward!”

No response. No reaction. Proaction. Take charge. You have a purpose, you’re going somewhere. Keep going.

According to Rabbi Freeman, the response of Israel to the demands of progressionism is to progress. Of course, this doesn’t mean abandoning the covenant of Sinai and blending into the general cultural herd, which for a Jew would basically mean assimilation, but it doesn’t mean hiding or freezing in place, either. If the world moves, move with it, but don’t forget to take who you are with you and particularly, don’t forget to take God.

But the world of faith is always vulnerable, not just to tragedy and evil, but to how those elements of life are interpreted, and on some occasions, used against religious people by not only the atheists who blame all the world’s woes on religion (as if humanity weren’t capable of doing harm without a religious belief system to depend upon), but on our own doubts when “bad things happen to good people,” or when God is otherwise incomprehensible.

Rabbi Hartman continues on this point:

From the anthropological perspective on the problem of evil, therefore, the prime concern is not so much to defend the notions of divine justice and power. It is rather, as in other personal relationships, to determine what measure of continuity, stability, and predictability can enable the relationship with God to survive all shocks. It is to identify the cluster of beliefs that supports a person’s will to persist in the face of tragedy and suffering. If the world I live in requires that I become overly vigilant because of the threat of danger striking at any moment, then how can I sustain commitment to a way fo life predicated on God’s covenantal love and justice?

How do we respond to events that can call into question our whole identity as God’s relational partners?

An atheist can dismiss such questions by dismissing God. The presence of tragedy, suffering, and evil can be accepted as conditions of a natural world filled with imperfect human beings. It can also be a world that, while imperfect, is struggling to develop toward a higher moral and ethical reality as indeed, progressivism strongly believes. Human beings then, establish and revise the foundations of our own morality, sometimes radically, as time advances and the concepts of rightness, mercy, and justice continue to evolve in societal consciousness.

But what about the covenantal Jew? How does he resolve or at least address this problem? We’ll pursue the answer to that and other questions in Part 2.