Sacred

James, I too respect your objectivity and your willingness to discuss such important issues. Conversing with you I have long understood that you are NOT (or not any longer) "One-Law" nor are you supersessionist. I do believe that One-Law theology IS a version of supersessionism, but with Torah observance added. Just like the classic Christian supersessionlism, the One-Law suppersessionism believes in "New Israel", a "spiritual" Israel that is no longer bound by "flesh", but one composed of Jews and Gentiles. It even retained some of the classic Christian antisemitism in the form of anti-rabbinic Judaism.

I do believe in dialog. You are a perfect example of what's possible. However, I wonder if you yourself disagreed too strongly on this issue with any One-Law elders in your congregation or in any sister One-Law communities, what would happen? Already, some One-Law folks commenting on your blogs have been less than kind, calling you naive, too pro-rabbinic, or almost accusing you of selling out. Can they be partners in dialog?
Gene Shlomovich's comments on the blog post
Overlap, Part 3: Speed Bumps

When did this happen? When I transitioned into the "Messianic movement" from the church many years ago (and at this point in my life, I've worshiped in my current setting much longer than I was ever in the church, as an adult anyway), the only way I had to understand "the movement" and the relationship non-Jews had to the Torah, Yeshua, and God was largely from materials the congregation had purchased from First Fruits of Zion (FFOZ), which at that time, supported a One Law position.

I was initially captivated by all of the rituals and prayers, and wearing a kippah and a tallit. It all seemed like a perfect fit in uniting Jews and Gentiles under One Torah, One Messiah, and One God.

Admittedly, I've undergone a number of changes since then. The congregation has gone through a number of changes, too. After much of the gloss wore off, I had a falling out with the "congregational leader" over his "one-man show" style of "leadership". After a split in the congregation, my family and I joined a small Torah study group.

My wife was the first one to go back to the congregation, ironically, but she left again after some of the non-Jewish members began to harrass a Jewish woman over whether or not she really "believed". This was sometime after the original leader died in a tragic accident, and there were various "factions" vying for control over the group.

At the request of my wife and the wife of the congregation's former leader, I and a friend returned to help bring some stability to the group (i.e. sanity and basic Biblical teaching). My friend was and is a gifted scholar and linguist and with his impressive command of the Hebrew language, liturgy, and ritual (though he wasn't Jewish), he was a natural fit to take the main leadership role. I backed him up as best I could. We shifted the leadership base to a distributed, board of elders model and redefined ourselves and our identity.

But we (and I) were still "One Law" (which, as far as I knew, wasn't a "dirty word" at the time).

Months and years passed.

My friend left to pursue other options (and Boise, Idaho is no place for a guy with that much talent). By default (and believe me, I didn't ask for the job), I was placed in a position of leadership, although I gladly defered the prayer service to others (I can't sing and my language skills aren't very good).

But I love to teach and write.

While I continued to change and grow, the core of my belief system remained unaltered (and I'm skipping over lots of details here, including the period when my family and I worshiped at the local Reform synagogue).

Then, as I continued to develop the congregation's blog, I encountered a group I had only heard of before...Jews in the Messianic system who were opposed to One Law and saw clear divisions between Jews and Gentiles in the Messianic movement.

I was appalled.

At more or less the same time, FFOZ announced that it had backed away from supporting One Law and was promoting something called "Divine Invitation", which seemed just strange to me. As with a lot of One Law folks, I was initially shocked and hurt. I felt like everything I had believed in up to that point had been turned upside down. It was like having a good friend suddenly slap you in the face. Apparently Tim Hegg felt the same way and according to his latest teachings, he still does.

Trying to figure out a way to build a bridge over the gap between viewpoints and positions, I started this blog and entered into a personal investigation and journey, not only of these differing positions, but of my own personal faith and how I was expressing that faith.

Somewhere in all of this, my wife became increasingly attached to the new Chabad shul that had been established in town and became good friends with the Rabbi and his wife. In the midst of this process, she became convinced that Yeshua (Jesus) could not be the Messiah, and adopted a theological viewpoint that was very Jewish...and not at all Messianic or (heaven forbid) Christian. I woke up one morning and found that I was part of a "mixed" relationship for the first time in over 25 years of marriage.

Wow!

Why am I telling you all this? Because something occurred to me last night (these little epiphanies always seem to happen to me right when I'm getting into bed, or when I'm in the shower, or when I'm otherwise in a position to not be able to write them down or save them in a text editor on my computer).

I've been recently accused of trying to please everyone by not taking a stand about my theology on my blogs. I've also been accused recently of trying to re-erect the wall of separation between Jews and Gentiles, being too "rabbinic", and not being loving. Fairly recently, I've been accused of being supersessionalist, anti-rabbinic, and anti-Jewish. I don't feel like I'm "pleasing" everybody. I don't feel like I'm "pleasing" anybody (although it is true that I would like to see all of the different "camps" in "the movement" be able to maintain a dialogue without personalizing conflicts).

I'm really just trying to figure all this out and particularly where in this puzzle I'm supposed to fit.

Oh yeah, the epiphany. Where does this "leaning" toward a more traditional Jewish viewpoint (for a Goy, that is) come from? Two places, I think.

The first is easy to identify. I live with a Jewish wife in what is becoming an increasingly Jewish home. I listen to her tell me about what she's learned in her various classes, and she shares her new understanding and her study notes with me. I am sometimes gifted with different books and she forwards some of her emails from Chabad teachers to me.

The second source is more elusive but I think it has its origins in the first few moments when I entered the "Messianic movement" and came to realize that some of the Jewish prayers and rituals were within my grasp.

I can't explain it, but there is something that warms my soul when I pray from a siddur and when I say the Shema. Many of my readers here won't appreciate what I'm about to say next, but there is "something" about wearing a tallit and laying tefillin that is very special and even sacred to me.

In many ways, I have no idea what it all means, but I would like to have the opportunity to find out. However, in order to do this, I have to deconstruct myself down to my wires, gears, and batteries, and build myself up  to something new. That doesn't mean throwing away my past, but it does mean letting go of the elements that are preventing forward motion in any significant and meaningful sense.

Last night, my wife and I watched a Star Trek the Next Generation episode called Journey's End. The character Wesley Crusher (played by Wil Wheaton) had discovered that his "path" to go to Star Fleet Academy and to become an officer in Star Fleet had reached a dead end. He was miserable with his life, but didn't know how to resolve the conflict because he had become used to trying to satisfy other people's expectations.

He found the answer on a planet colonized by Native Americans by undergoing a spiritual rite in what amounts to a sweat lodge. There's a scene when Wes is having a conversation with the man who would become his spiritual guide. The man, whose name was Lakanta (played by Tom Jackson), asked Wes to look around the village and try to find out what the tribe considered sacred. Wes picked out a few buildings and objects but Lakanta replied that "everything is sacred to us" including Wes. The point to my diversion here is that Lakanta told Wes that he had been treating himself with disrespect which, since he's a sacred person (and all people are sacred people), is treating something that is holy as profane.

We are all sacred to God. We are all Holy to Him. If we become spiritual people and become aware of God, we start on a path that takes us on a journey to find God. If we believe in Yeshua as the Jewish Messiah; if we believe in Jesus as the Christ, then he becomes our traveling companion.

The path has many turns and forks. There is danger on either side, should we choose to leave the path entirely. The path leads us through forests and deserts, through jungles and swamps, through high mountain passes, and wide dark valleys. There are times, when we discover that we've gone down the wrong fork in the path and must backtrack. There are times when we discover we have gone down the right fork, but the path is rocky and full of challenges.

I am on that path walking with Yeshua. He is my guide and protector, but he cannot walk the path for me. It is my own journey. He can open the door and point in a direction, but whatever I experience on the journey, I must face myself.

You who are following my journey are on a path of your own. No two paths are identical, even for believers in Yeshua. No two Gentiles and no two Jews will walk the same path. Certainly a Jew and a Gentile will not walk the same path.

That's OK. Although we may disagree about what our journeys mean to each other, ultimately, we must be responsible only to the path, the journey, Yeshua, and God. This doesn't mean there can't be fellowship. One of the wonderful parts of the sharing of our faith is sitting together and describing what happened to us on the road today. We can gain many insights into our own travels by listening to another person's experiences, and those stories enhance and bring greater meaning to our own path.

Remember though, that all of our paths, though they have many different starting points, have only one destination. When we arrive, we will have to give an accounting to God for how we walked the path, how we treated our companion, and many of the things we said and did while we were on the road. This includes how we treated each other, no matter what our theological or ecclesiological positions.

There is only One God and only one of each of us and we are all sacred.

Please let's not treat someone who is sacred as profane.

"A Jew never gives up. We're here to bring Mashiach, we will settle for nothing less." -Harav Yitzchak Ginsburgh