Did Jesus Teach One Law?

Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” -Matthew 28:19-20

I don't normally create a blog post just to draw attention to another blog post, but this one is different. I just finished teaching a 15-week course at my congregation called Discipleship and the Torah. The course is based on a series of blogs I posted here called What Did Jesus Teach the Gentiles to Obey. I thought that running the blog material through a live class with interactive students (including people accessing the class via mp3 recordings) would come to at least some different conclusions or perhaps present some different insights.

The class didn't disappoint and I think it was a rewarding experience for those who participated.

I shared the class conclusions on my congregation's blog and wanted to make sure that the people who follow my personal blog didn't miss out. Click the link to read Did Jesus Teach One Law for the Jew and Gentile.

Feel free to comment, but be polite.

Looking for Myself

Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says. Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like someone who looks at his face in a mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like. But whoever looks intently into the perfect law that gives freedom, and continues in it - not forgetting what they have heard, but doing it - they will be blessed in what they do. -James 1:22-25

James (Ya'akov), the brother of the Master, provides us a lesson that seems simple and straightforward. At it's core, he is telling his audience that the Torah, the teachings of God, defines who we are as believers. More to the point, the Torah, it's commandments and ordinances, define who is a Jew.

Ok, it's not that simple. In a practical sense, a Jew is anyone who has a Jewish mother, even if they don't study or observe the Torah. A Jew is a descendant of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. A Jew is the inheritor of the Torah and the covenant promises as given by God through Moses at Sinai. For non-Jews, simply obeying the Torah commandments in some manner or fashion, all by itself, does not make us Jewish.

So what does the Bible define for "the rest of us"? Look at what James is saying.

No matter who you are, it's not enough to read or to listen to the word. That doesn't tell you who you are. You might as well be anonymous and faceless if that's all there was to it. No, it's doing what the word says that defines you. Kind of like this quote from a popular movie:

It's not who I am underneath, but what I do that defines me.
Batman/Bruce Wayne (played by Christian Bale)
Batman Begins (2005)

Even the entertainment industry understands that "actions speak louder than words". However, while obeying the Torah commandments does not turn a Gentile into a Jew, following the directives to love God with everything we've got and loving our neighbor as ourselves (Mark 12:29-31 quoting Deuteronomy 6:4-5 and Leviticus 19:18) does tell us, and the rest of the world, who we are as Gentile disciples of the Jewish Messiah. That is how we find ourselves.

But there's a catch:

On today’s daf we find that the minchas kenaos clears up the sin by identifying the wrongdoer absolutely or by exonerating her of suspicion. Perhaps, in its own way, this is the hardest test for every Jew: to own up when we have failed so that we can really change our ways. Rav Yaakov Galinsky, shlit”a, points the challenge inherent in this with his usual biting humor. “In Novardohk they would tell a story of a certain young man who was always late for cheder. Day after day this child was punished, only to be tardy yet again the following day. One day the melamed asked the boy directly. ‘Why are you late every day?’

He answered, ‘Rebbe, my problems are that I am disorganized and forgetful. When I go to sleep each night I drop my clothes wherever and go to bed. The next morning it takes me a long time to get dressed. Is it any wonder that I come late?’

“The melamed offered practical advice. ‘All you need to do is to write a list of precisely where you dropped each article of clothing. The next morning when you wake up, consult the list and you will know exactly where you left your clothes the night before.’ “The boy went home with a lightened heart. The next day the child didn’t come at all. As soon as he was able, the melamed rushed to the young man’s house. He found the boy at his house, fully dressed but obviously very bewildered.

“What happened?” he asked.

“’I did exactly what you said. I wrote down that my tzitzis were in the garden, my shirt on the chair, my pants on the floor etc, I said hamapil with great joy and went to sleep. This morning I woke up and got dressed quickly but I still cannot locate the final item. It says clearly that I am in bed, but I checked my bed - and everywhere else - many times and cannot seem to find myself…’ ”

Rav Yaakov concluded, “This is obviously a joke, but it is so sad. How many of us are looking to find ourselves but cannot seem to do so! The very first question we will be asked in the next world is, ‘Ayekah?’ Where did you go and what did you do? Where did you plant yourself and what happened with you?”
from Daf Yomi Digest
Stories off the Daf
Identify the Problem
Menachos 60

For observant Jews, the Torah and Talmud define who they are, where they are from, where they can "look for themselves", and what they must do in this world to serve God and to love their neighbors. The Bible, and particularly the New Testament, provides a similar function to someone who self-identifies as a traditional Christian. Jews and Christians usually attend synagogues and churches that are affiliated with well-established movements in their respective religions. If a Jew goes to an Orthodox shul, that synagogue is affiliated with a larger organization of synagogues and there is a higher organizational accountability. If a Christian goes to a Baptist or Pentecostal church, that church also has certain affiliations and there is also an organizational accountability. Each house of worship teaches and offers worship services consistent with the larger groups with which they are affiliated. They do not make up their own "rules". Everyone knows who they are based on established standards.

In "Messianic Judaism", there are any number of "umbrella" organizations, but the vast majority of them are oriented around providing a Jewish religious context to Jews who believe that Jesus (Yeshua) is the Jewish Messiah. Of course, Gentiles are allowed to attend these synagogues, but there is no real focus on the duties, responsibilities, and purpose of non-Jewish disciples of the Jewish Messiah.

On top of that, a large number of "Messianic synagogues" are completely unaffiliated, particularly those that fall in the "One Law" category, which means they create their own standards, establish their own interpretations of the Bible, and define their own methods of being "Torah-observant." There is no higher accountability until you get to God and for a number of these congregations, their leader tells his "flock" that he reports directly to God and cannot otherwise be held to any standard of responsibility.

My own congregation is affiliated with the International Federation of Messianic Jews (IFMJ) but it's not a very effective organization. In the years I've been involved in the leadership and teaching duties in my group, I've never once heard from any member or authority (although they periodically make contact with another board member) and they provide nothing in the way of support or oversight. Besides accepting our "tithes" every quarter, they might as well not exist, relative to the day-to-day operations of our congregation. They certainly have no impact on what I write on the congregation's blog or teach to the congregational members.

As an individual, I probably fall within Derek Leman's definition of a Judeo Christian believer. I'm a Gentile person who is a disciple of the Jewish Messiah, but my theological and educational understanding is oriented in a more "Jewish" manner. I tend to see the Jewish teachings and text as the window into the understanding of the Messiah and of God, rather than a traditional Christian theological framework. People like me create and operate Bible study groups, fellowships, and congregations all of the time, but to the degree that there are no "parent" organizations specifically devoted to addressing my population group, most people like me are unaffiliated. We are making up our stories as we go along, not only for ourselves, but for other groups of people.

That's not a good thing. It's far too easy for unaffiliated individuals and groups to make up stories about who they are that don't reflect what God is saying to us. Alone, it's far too easy for us to introduce error and mistakes into our understanding and our practice.

That's both the reason I must leave the One Law movement and the danger I face in leaving the movement (or at least in not immediately joining some other religious group). Right now, I don't have a support group or authority to respond to beyond the board of the congregation but in leaving, I won't have even that. Of course, I won't be teaching anyone else either, so I won't run the risk of messing up other people if I make a mistake (and people who read my blog do so at their own risk...I'm just one guy and I can make mistakes).

Every morning I look in the mirror when I shave and I wonder who that person is looking back at me. In praying, and studying, and living what I hope is a "Godly" life, like the "certain young man" in the story from Novardohk, I am looking for myself. Yet, in all the places I'm looking, where am I to be found? When he turned up missing, the young man's Rebbe went looking for him. Is there anyone else looking for me?

The road is long and often, we travel in the dark.

Unintended Goodness

“Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him! So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets. -Matthew 7:9-12

When you ask, you do not receive, because you ask with wrong motives, that you may spend what you get on your pleasures. -James 4:3

Sometimes it happens that you set out to do something with the best of intentions - and you end up with what appears the opposite.

Know with absolute certainty - because this is a tradition of our sages - that if your true intent is good, then from it only good can emerge.

Perhaps not the good you intended - or care for - but good nevertheless.

Rabbi Tzvi Freeman
from "Detoured Good"
Chabad.org

I read Rabbi Freeman's words yesterday, which I quoted above, and thought about my own situation. I've recently commented on both Judah Himango's and Derek Leman's blogs regarding my intention to formally leave the world of "Messianic" worship, and specifically the "One Law" branch of this movement. I no longer believe that God intends for Gentiles and Jews to live absolutely identical lifestyles, with Christians performing all of the mitzvot in every detail, precisely like their Jewish brothers and sisters, thus obliterating any covenant difference between Jew and Christian.

My intent, among other things, is to do good. My purpose, or at least one of them, is to honor the chosen people of God (not that we all can't be chosen in our own ways); the Children of Israel. My motivation is not just Jews in general but my Jewish wife in specific. She has been very patient with me, but I can only imagine how she sees me, her Christian husband, when I go to worship with my congregation on Shabbat, knowing that I will be praying with a tallit, using a siddur, and reciting the Shema.

My intention is to do good in the action of leaving my congregation, but Rabbi Freeman makes me wonder. If my intention is good, can only truly good things result? After all, we have a common saying that goes, "the road to hell is paved with good intentions" (thought to have originated with Saint Bernard of Clairvaux who wrote, "L'enfer est plein de bonnes volontés et désirs" or "hell is full of good wishes and desires").

Could bad things come from good intent? They probably do all of the time, but if Rabbi Freeman and the Lubavitcher Rebbe are right, I can hope for a good, but not necessarily expected outcome from my intentions and actions. I sometimes think of prayer that way. I'd like to think that my intentions in prayer are always good ,but as James (Jacob), the brother of the Master, says, I can mess that one up, too.

However Jesus (Yeshua) also seems to say something we find echoed in Rabbi Freeman's teaching. Even though we are evil, we know how to give good gifts. If prayer is like an incense offering; a gift to God (Psalm 141:2, Revelation 5:8, Revelation 8:4), then maybe even my attempt to extend myself outside of my own skin and my own thoughts and to connect, however tenuously, with God, will yield something of His goodness, even though I can't anticipate the exact result of my "offering".

I haven't tendered my resignation to my congregation yet, but the time is coming all too soon. We are small and our resources are limited. I'm a significant resource for my community, not only as a teacher, but as a blog writer, and the person who maintains our website. In soothing my conscience and attempting to reconcile the faith portion of my relationship with my wife, what do I do to the congregation?

Another saying we have is "He who hesitates is lost". I can't simply do nothing, continue on with the status quo, and hope for the best. I've been praying and waiting for an answer to this puzzle for almost two years and I'm still waiting. While God can provide miracles completely outside of human actions, I know we aren't supposed to depend on God doing so. With all this going on, what does God want and what will He do?

Today, my email quote from Rabbi Freeman contained the following:

Every moment,
every human activity
is an opportunity to connect with the Infinite.

Every act can be an uplifting of the soul.

It is only your will that may stand in the way.

But as soon as you wish,
you are connected.

In seeking God and His will, I'm like a blind man trying to find a sunny patch of ground on which to stand. The weather is partly cloudy, and I only have a feeble sense of warm or cold to tell me if I've reached my goal. Rabbi Freeman says that any time I truly wish to be connected to God, I am, but like that blind man, I can't always tell if I'm already standing in the light of day. Like a man driving his car on a lonely stretch of freeway in the middle of the desert at night, I can only see as far as my headlights can pierce the darkness. In order to reach my destination, I must continue driving through the vast obsidian wastes and hope for the dawn.

A rebuke impresses a discerning person more than a hundred lashes a fool. -Proverbs 17:10

The King's Scroll

The 17th mitzvah is that we are commanded that every king who sits in rulership over the Jewish people shall write a Sefer Torah for himself; and that it shall never be separate from him.
Translated by Rabbi Berel Bell
Sefer Hamitzvot in English
The King's Torah Scroll
Chabad.org

"It shall not move from his presence except when he enters the bathroom, the bathhouse, or a place where one is forbidden to study. When he goes out to war, it must be with him; when he returns, it must be with him; when he sits in judgment, it must be with him; when he eats, it must be in front of him."
Rambam, Hilchos Melachim, Chapter 3, Halacha

"I will rise up at midnight to give thanks to You for Your righteous judgments." -Psalms 119:62

According to Deuteronomy 17:18, each King of Israel is to write for himself a copy of the Torah scroll. The Talmud interprets this as meaning the King will write two scrolls, one to be kept in the Treasury, and one to be kept, as we see in Rambam's commentary above, with the King at all times. If God's justice and mercy is before the King every waking moment, when he's eating breakfast, when he goes to war, when he sits in his home, when he goes along the way, then God's judgments will not be far from the King when the King issues his judgments over the people of Israel.

We who are disciples of the Jewish Messiah Jesus (Yeshua) have one King. If we are true to our faith, then he and his righteous judgments are always before us. He is our living Torah. But is he his own living Torah?

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth. -John 1:14

It's common in Messianic circles to consider Jesus as the living embodiment of the commandments of God, the flesh and blood container for all of God's mercy, compassion, judgments, and ordinances, the Torah incarnate who dwelt among us. As the suffering servant, he set aside his Kingship and his majesty and he died, although he died with the titulus ironically declaring his Kingship nailed above his head. When he returns, he will come as avenging King. When he walked among men as a man, he obeyed all of the mitzvot without error or flaw. As King, he can do no less. But how will the King keep the Torah before him at all times?

I saw heaven standing open and there before me was a white horse, whose rider is called Faithful and True. With justice he judges and wages war. His eyes are like blazing fire, and on his head are many crowns. He has a name written on him that no one knows but he himself. He is dressed in a robe dipped in blood, and his name is the Word of God. The armies of heaven were following him, riding on white horses and dressed in fine linen, white and clean. Coming out of his mouth is a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations. “He will rule them with an iron scepter.” He treads the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God Almighty. On his robe and on his thigh he has this name written: King of Kings and Lord of Lords. -Revelation 19:11-16

I'm stretching the metaphor, probably beyond reasonable limits, I admit it. I can't say with any certainty that the commandment for a King of Israel to always have the Torah before him is fulfilled by his name written on his robe and his thigh. Yet it is a fascinating thought and a compelling image, that Yeshua is the Torah and that he wears the Torah, so to speak, upon him. He is the King of Israel; the final King. He is the Torah and the Torah is with him.

But what about us? Deuteronomy 31:19 is understood by the sages as a commandment for every Jew to write for himself a scroll of the Torah, even if he has inherited a scroll from his father. In modern times, the commandment is fulfilled by most Jews, in purchasing a book of Torah rather than writing it out by hand.

It is said that many of the commandments do not apply to Gentile disciples of the Jewish Messiah. I certainly don't think the Talmudic masters intended for non-Jews to be obligated to the commandment of writing a copy of the Torah. It's not a common concern among Christians certainly. Nevertheless, we have this:

They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. There will be no more night. They will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light. And they will reign for ever and ever. -Deuteronomy 22:4-5

As the King wears his name, so will we wear his name and we will belong to him. You may believe you belong to him now, and I certainly cannot refute this. However, the "throne of God and of the Lamb" is not yet with us (Revelation 22:3) and we do not yet serve only him with wholehearted devotion as we will in Messianic days. Today, we can keep his name and his word before us by studying the Bible, by associating with other believers, by performing acts of kindness and compassion, by attempting to embrace a mystic understanding of the Messiah beyond the literal word, and by praying that his "will be done on earth as it is in heaven" (Matthew 6:8).

Pray that the King comes soon and in our days.

To the Hasidic mind Devekuth and Kawwanah were the primary emotional values, a significance which they had by no means always had before. "That is the meaning of Devekuth that when he fulfills the commandments or studies the Torah, the body becomes a throne for the soul...and the soul a throne for the light of the Shekhinah which is above his head, and the light as it were flows all round him, and he sits in the midst of the light and rejoices in trembling."
from Major Trends in Jewish Mysticism
by Gershom Scholem

The road is long and often, we travel in the dark.

Why Don’t Christians Count the Omer?

You shall count for yourselves -- from the day after the Shabbat, from the day when you bring the Omer of the waving -- seven Shabbats, they shall be complete. Until the day after the seventh sabbath you shall count, fifty days. -Leviticus 23:15-16

You shall count for yourselves seven weeks, from when the sickle is first put to the standing crop shall you begin counting seven weeks. Then you will observe the Festival of Shavu'ot for the LORD, your God. -Deuteronomy 16:9-10

Last week, our congregation had our annual community Passover Seder. As always, it was a wonderful time and is still in my heart on this last day of the week of Unleavened Bread. Of course, Passover, among other things, starts the beginning of the 50 days of Counting the Omer. Originally, this was the period of time between the Children of Israel leaving slavery in Egypt and the giving of the Torah at Mt. Sinai 49 days later, by the Almighty Himself. The counting period is considered to have been a time of spiritual cleansing for the Children of Israel in preparation for receiving the Torah of God.

Since that time, the period of Counting the Omer between Passover and Shavuot has a similar function in Judaism. Actually, the preparation for Passover itself is a time to clean out the "hametz"; leaven or sin in our lives, so Jews prepare their souls to break with the sins of the past and dedicate the coming year to drawing closer to God. Passover also "starts the clock" of the seven weeks (also why Shavuot is called "The Festival of Weeks") of Omer counting and the anticipation of Shavuot, which is the anniversary of the giving of the Torah at Sinai.

The meaning of the Torah for observant Jewish people goes well beyond what the Bible typically means to the Evangelical Church (which is not to say that the church doesn't highly regard the Bible). It's not "just" considered the Word of God. Jews consider the Torah as having a spiritual and mystical "life" beyond the printed word. In a sense, they believe that the world was created for the sake of Torah and that if the Jews had rejected Torah at Sinai, all of Creation would have been undone. Torah is also considered the means by which God created the Universe and everything in it. Torah is the guide to Holy living, the path to wisdom, and the means to draw nearer to God. Torah scholars are considered on a higher spiritual level and closer to the Creator because of their study, and Torah study and worship of God are considered the same thing.

I'm providing this context to communicate the incredible importance that the giving of the Torah has to the Jewish people. That means the Counting of Omer is a time of tremendous anticipation. It's like knowing the most important event in your life will happen 50 days from now. It's a once-in-a-lifetime event that will change you forever. Naturally, during that 50 days, it will be all you can think and talk about, and it stands to reason you'd want to spend those 50 days getting as ready as possible for this exceptionally important moment.

That's what the Counting of the Omer is. A period of intense preparation for an encounter with God. It's a countdown to the day when you will receive the most important gift in the world from the Creator of the world. But what does this have to do with Christianity?

When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues (languages) as the Spirit enabled them. -Acts 2:1-4 (NIV)

The festival of Shavu'ot arrived, and the believers all gathered together in one place. Suddenly there came a sound from the sky like the roar of a violent wind, and it filled the whole house where they were sitting. Then they saw what looked like tongues of fire, which separated and came to rest on each one of them. They were all filled with the Ruach HaKodesh and began to talk in different languages, as the Spirit enabled them to speak. -Acts 2:1-4 (CJB)

What the Church calls Pentecost and considers the anniversary of the giving to the Holy Spirit to the disciples in Jerusalem, Judaism calls Shavuot and considers the anniversary of the giving of the Torah at Mt. Sinai; but they're the same day. A too casual reading of Acts 2 might cause us to forget a few things. First of all, the Disciples were all Jewish, so it makes a huge amount of sense that they'd be celebrating the Biblical festivals, including Shavuot. They'd be gathered together in fact because of Shavuot, in remembrance of that day and in obedience to the commandments.

Also in obedience of the commandments, the Disciples would have been counting the Omer, just as their forefathers had done for thousands of years. The crucifixion of Yeshua (Jesus) on the threshold of Passover and his subsequent resurrection and ascension wouldn't have done anything to change that. Certainly, there's nothing in the Bible that records Yeshua saying to not count the Omer that year and that "all bets were off", so to speak.

So here you have a group of Jews, who have come to faith in Yeshua as the risen Messiah. They have gone through 49 days of counting, and are now gathered together for the festival of Shavuot, commemorating the giving of the Torah. The giving of Torah is the most important and binding event in the lives of every Jew in existence, past, present, and future (it was the reason why Acts 2 records that there were Jews in Jerusalem from all over the diaspora, and why they understood the disciples when they were speaking in different languages; the languages of the nations they lived in). With the stage set, God does something incredible; He gives another gift, this time, the Holy Spirit to dwell within the disciples and to specifically empower them to begin the mission assigned to them by their Master and Messiah, Yeshua at the end of the book of Matthew.

Then the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go. When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. Then Jesus came to them and said, "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age." -Matthew 28:16-20 (NIV)

The events in Matthew 28 and Acts 2 go hand in hand. Matthew 28 defines the assignment and Acts 2 provides the tools to accomplish the assignment. It wasn't that the Holy Spirit didn't connect to faithful and righteous people before that time. After all, consider the Prophets and, at the end of Exodus when the Shekinah; the Glory of God, descends onto and into the Tabernacle in the desert, the Talmud states that at that moment, each Jew was to consider that a small piece of the Shekinah was dwelling in their individual hearts. I know that Christianity makes a distinction between the Spirit dwelling "on" vs. "in", but why would God do that? The Spirit is the Spirit. Why would all righteous people be considered "second hand (spiritual) citizens" prior to the coming of the Messiah?

The other and primary connection that needs to be understood is the link between Exodus 20 and Acts 2; the giving of Torah and the giving of the Spirit. I don't believe that, in a created universe, there is such a thing as coincidence; certainly not on the level of Shavuot and Pentecost "just happening" to be on the same day. Therefore, it fulfills the plan of God that these two events be connected. On a larger stage, perhaps the giving of the Spirit enables us to fully implement, not only the Matthew 28 directive, but the Torah as well.

Does that mean, in essence, these two events are the same event? If so, or at least if they are intimately connected, it has incredible implications in the life of every believer in Yeshua (that is, the life of every Christian). What would have been assumed by the Jewish Disciples is considered revolutionary to we 21st Century Gentile believers. 1st Century Jews wouldn't have batted an eye at the thought of obeying the Torah commands. They were taught this from childhood. If the Spirit enabled them to more completely obey the commands of God and "The Great Commission" as it is called by the Church, then so much the better. But what about us?

If the Spirit enables the modern Church to continue the commandment of Jesus to "go and make disciples of all nations", that's completely acceptable and understood (as long as you understand that the terms "convert" and disciple" aren't synonyms). However, understanding that these two events and concepts are also fused with the giving of Torah at Sinai and the enabling to "keep Torah", is likely a stunning revelation to a non-Jewish believing audience. There is much debate over how a Gentile disciple of the Master is to "keep the Torah" vs. the obligation of the Jewish people to the commandments, but given the undeniable link between Shavuot and Pentecost, I can't see any reason why a Christian shouldn't count the Omer.

In other words, given all of my prior statements about why it is so important for observant Jews, to this day, to count the Omer, and prepare themselves for a "close encounter" with God, if Christians believe that the giving of the Spirit is also a "close encounter", then why not count the Omer, too?

It seems like Evangelical Christians are really missing out on something special. I think it's part of why we Gentiles who are attached to the "Messianic movement" do what we do. The living out of the Biblical festivals has not just ancient, but modern applications as well. Hopefully this modest article has brought a few of those applications out into the open. Pentecost didn't "replace" Shavuot, nor did the Spirit replace the Torah. The Spirit is God dwelling within us and the Torah is God's practical and mystical guide to Biblical wisdom and righteous living. We are told that the Word (or Torah) is written on our hearts, which makes the Spirit and Torah more closely linked than we may imagine. If the Children of Israel in Exodus already understood that connection, no wonder Jews, even today, are so in awe of the Torah and of God. They count the Omer with a sense of anticipation and wonder at the immense graciousness and kindness of God. Gentile believers need to recapture that sense of awe of God and what He has given us. One way to do that, is to count the Omer and to eagerly look forward to that encounter. Remember, there's a final anticipated meeting that is yet to arrive. He's coming.

He one who is testifying to these things says, "Yes, I am coming soon! Amen! Come, Lord Yeshua! May the grace of the Lord Yeshua be with all! -Revelation 22:20-21 (CJB)

A slightly different version of this article was originally published at the Congregation Shema Yisrael blog. You can find a related article on the same blog called Of Matzah, Bagels, and Omer.

The road is long and often, we travel in the dark.

Friday's Child in the Family of God

Friday's child is loving and giving...

-from an old nursery rhyme

I keep forgetting it's Good Friday, the day the Christian church commemorates as the day Jesus died. For the past several days, I've been trying to work up some sort of feeling for this coming Easter Sunday. I've been reading a few Christian and Messianic blogs and it seems as if folks are just "on fire" for the coming of Easter and the celebration of the resurrection.

I'm not "feeling" it.

Actually, I've never had a strong emotional response to Easter. My parents took me to church when I was a young teen, but no one ever got around to asking me if I believed in Jesus or what it all meant to me. Being a "good kid", I did what my parents told me to do (for the most part) which included going to church. But I didn't believe. Christmas was a time when there was loot under a tree. I don't like hard boiled eggs or milk chocolate, so Easter didn't even have that much appeal.

When I was old enough, I told my parents I wasn't going to church anymore. My father wasn't a believer at the time (he has since found faith) so he didn't say much. I could tell my mother was hurt, but she accepted my decision.

I didn't come to faith in Jesus (Yeshua) until my early 40s. That was about 15 years ago or so. Even with that, I only worshiped in a traditional church setting for a few years before shifting into a "Messianic" context. I never developed an emotional attachment to the Christian holidays as Christian holidays. I never learned to love Christmas because of the birth of Jesus and I never acquired an adoration of Easter because of the resurrection.

Apparently, my perspective is something of an oddity in Messianic circles (it's a foregone conclusion that it's outright strange from a Christian point of view) if the Messiah Connection blog is any indication. If you've been reading my blog this week, you'll know that of late, I've also been questioning a Gentile Christian's (me) role in participating in the Passover, at least as a Christian rite, as opposed to the traditional Jewish festival.

But if I don't feel connected to Easter and Passover is becoming a question mark, where does that leave me?

I am talking to you Gentiles. Inasmuch as I am the apostle to the Gentiles, I take pride in my ministry in the hope that I may somehow arouse my own people to envy and save some of them...If some of the branches have been broken off, and you, though a wild olive shoot, have been grafted in among the others and now share in the nourishing sap from the olive root, do not consider yourself to be superior to those other branches. If you do, consider this: You do not support the root, but the root supports you. You will say then, “Branches were broken off so that I could be grafted in.” Granted. But they were broken off because of unbelief, and you stand by faith. Do not be arrogant, but tremble. For if God did not spare the natural branches, he will not spare you either. -Romans 11:13-14,17-21

We Gentiles are "grafted in" to the natural root. Jesus said that he was the vine (natural root) and we (Gentiles, in my case) are the (grafted in) branches (John 15:5), co-existing, so to speak, on the same vine as the natural branches. But we're not the same...I'm not the same.

Many years ago, I worked in social services and part of my job was "special needs adoptions". Among other things, that means, finding adoptive homes for older children who have been removed from their birth families by the court (usually due to some unrepairable parental problem that resulted in child abuse). One of the things that child psychologists and other, similar professionals know about kids, is that they bond with their parents really, really early in life and once that do, that's it. No matter who those parents are or what they've done, those kids are bonded. If kids miss that special window for bonding because no "parental object" is available, they're "unbonded" forever, which usually results in all sorts of psychological and behavioral problems. Finding them a "good home" after the bonding window is closed doesn't open it again...ever.

Kids who are adopted into families at an older age almost always struggle with issues of identity and belonging. Even well into adulthood, when these "adoptees" have married and are raising their own families, many of them still question if they really have a family, if they really belong, and if they were ever really loved by anyone.

I was "adopted" into the "family of God" at an older age. I wonder if I failed to bond? Could that be the reason that, as Easter approaches and even the old city of Jerusalem is alive with Good Friday observances, I feel as emotionally flat as a piece of matzah?

My friend Gene Shlomovich wrote a blog today that said something very telling about this point, quoting his Muslim friend "Ahmed":

I was thinking Israel is really taking our lands, killing Palestinians, [they are] war criminals, etc… When I grew up I wanted to see what is the “Jew”, what kind of religion. They (Arab propaganda) make it like hell. Oh no, I want see. I read some books. I found out it is so close to our way of worshiping, it is so close, very very very close, and too far away from Christians! And then I wanted to know about land issues. I say now: oh yeah, we got 50 Arab countries, they (Jews) got none, just that one. So let them live in peace and give them more!

I’m telling you - a Jew is way too far from Christianity! And makes me feel sad of how much Jews and Muslims are far from each other nowadays and how close Christians are to Jews. Makes me enjoy this relationship.

In his missive, Gene referred to Ahmed and himself as cousins because of their common ancestor Abraham and the large number of similarities between Muslim and Jewish religious practice and perception...much closer than the resemblance between Judaism and Christianity. Jewish Israeli author Yossi Halevi made the exact observation in his book At the Entrance to the Garden of Eden when he undertook a spiritual journey to find "connectedness" with Christians and Muslims in the Holy Land.

This probably wasn't Gene's intent, but the wonderful story he told about his conversation with Ahmed continued to cement my impression that the gulf between God's natural root and those of us who have been grafted in is much wider than we'd like to admit. During the week of Unleavened Bread, during Holy Week, on Good Friday, with both Erev Shabbat and Easter Sunday waiting in the wings, while the world of Christians and Jews celebrate an unquestioned sense of belonging, I'm still not sure where in all this I fit in. Is it possible to be a square peg in a universe where God created only round holes?

A few days ago, my 2 year old grandson Landon had a fever that spiked at 104 degrees F. He's still sick and has both an upper respiratory infection and a virus. He's doing better, but his Mom's come down with it now. My wife and I took Landon in last night to give his parents a break. He's still himself, but the poor little guy isn't feeling well.

As I was getting ready for work this morning, my wife asked me to hold him for a bit. He reached out to me and as I took him in my arms, he folded quite comfortably onto my shoulder and started to doze. In that moment, I knew I belonged to someone, at least for that tiny march of minutes. A two-year old little boy is wonderfully accepting and once he loves you, he loves you unconditionally.

While driving to work this morning, I wondered if perhaps those few, sweet minutes of holding my grandson would be the only worthwhile thing I'd end up doing today?

Today is Good Friday and I don't feel anything about it. What bothers me is that I think I should feel something. But I don't.

The poem I quoted from above was first published in 1838 and is meant to be a "fortune-telling" song which predicts a child's character based on the day of the week he or she was born. I used "Friday's child" because it's Good Friday. Also, I was born on a Friday. But if Friday's child is "loving and giving", Wednesday's child is "full of woe" and Thursday's child "has far to go".

The road is long and seen from the "rest stop" of Good Friday, I have far to go.

A Shroud for the Dead

The Gemara concludes that even though shrouds for the dead are exempt from the mitzvah of tzitzis, when a body is prepared for burial we do wrap a garment with tzitzis around the body. The idea is based upon the verse in Mishlei (17:5) which states “One who mocks a pauper insults his Maker.” The term “pauper” refers to a person who has died and is therefore no longer obligated in mitzvos. We are not allowed to mock his inability to perform mitzvos, so we dress him with tzitzis.
"Tzitzis on the garments of the dead"
Menachos 41
Daf Yomi Digest

For what I received I passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures...
-1 Corinthians 15:3-4

Jesus is dead. At least he's dead if this is just after the Passover. Since the timing of when he was executed varies from one Gospel version to the next, we aren't absolutely sure what "three days" means in terms of hours and minutes, or just how long the Master spent entombed as a corpse. But we know he died.

We also know that, as an observant Jew, he would have obeyed the commandment to wear tzitzit or "fringes" on the four corners of his garments (Deuteronomy 22:12). We see an example in the Gospels (Matthew 9:20-22; Mark 5:25-34; Luke 8:43-47) that he wore fringes or tzitzit. It would have been unusual and even a little bizarre for a Jewish Rabbi and Prophet not to have obeyed the commandment of tzitzit as a representation of his obligation to the Torah.

And then he died. Another quote from the Daf:

Nevertheless, Shmuel agrees that if someone made burial shrouds for himself there is no obligation to place tzitzis on it.

While there's no obligation for the dead to be dressed in garments with tzitzit attached because a dead person cannot obey the commandments, as the earlier quote citing the Gemara states, we do not mock the dead. When Jesus was prepared for burial, his disciples, perhaps the women or even Joseph and Nicodemus, would have taken care of this important detail to honor and respect the Master. They loved him. They would not neglect him in this.

Later, Joseph of Arimathea asked Pilate for the body of Jesus. Now Joseph was a disciple of Jesus, but secretly because he feared the Jewish leaders. With Pilate’s permission, he came and took the body away. He was accompanied by Nicodemus, the man who earlier had visited Jesus at night. Nicodemus brought a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about seventy-five pounds. Taking Jesus’ body, the two of them wrapped it, with the spices, in strips of linen. This was in accordance with Jewish burial customs. -John 19:38-40

Yet the dead cannot praise God and they cannot obey Him.

Among the dead no one proclaims your name. Who praises you from the grave? -Psalm 6:5

It is not the dead who praise the LORD, those who go down to the place of silence... -115:17

Who provided the garments for burial? Who offered the tzitzit to the Master's body? He was stripped when beaten, though his clothing was returned (Matthew 27:27-31), but the Roman soldiers removed his clothes when he was placed on the cross and cast lots for his garments (Matthew 27:35). When he died, he died almost naked.

But while the Romans and the faithless mocked the dying Jesus, those who loved him suffered in tears and when he died, they did not mock him by refusing to attach tzitzit to his garments as they prepared a shroud for the dead.

I know I'm extrapolating from later Rabbinic rulings to earlier practices, but in my imagination and in my heart, I do not mock the dead. As the Children of Israel died in the desert wearing tzitzit, and as Jews are commanded to wear tzitzit on their four-cornered garments, I can see the Master dressed for burial this way.

Shulchan Aruch (Y.D. 351:2) rules that we bury the dead with tzitzis, but Rema adds that the tzitzis should be invalid. Our custom is to wrap the dead in a tallis, but to cut the tzitzis from one of the corners.

In reading the Gospels, we jump almost immediately from the burial to the resurrection but I'm asking you to pause. Don't go on the the next paragraph or the next page yet. Stop and consider. In Christianity, we jump to Easter in a mad rush, eager to celebrate the risen Lord, running immediately from the ugly, bloody death to the party commemorating his life, but stop. Think about it. Consider the day after he died. Break a piece of dry matzah and put it in your mouth. It's almost tasteless. It's like death. It's like his body. Think about what the Passover and unleavened bread is trying to tell you. Ponder what the Master was saying when he compared his body to the bread and asked you to think of him when you eat it. Taste the dry, brittle bitterness of grief; let the salt water in which we dip our karpas during the Seder be tears.

He died. He was buried. Right now, immediately after the Passover feast, he is buried. We honor him and prepare his body, though our hearts are shattered within us. We apply myrrh and aloes to his broken and torn body and wrap him in fresh, clean linens, struggling between slowly and reverently attending the Master and the urgency to finish before the Sabbath. On his robes we make sure that the tzitzit are attached. Little do we know that they should not be "invalid" as Rema will later rule. In three days time, the Master will live again.

The dead do not honor and praise God. A corpse does not obey the commandments and perform the mitzvot. That is for the living. Today, Jesus is dead. Tomorrow, after the Sabbath, he lives again.

Praise God.

The road is long and often, we travel in the dark.

The Christian Passover

Some Christians eager to connect with their religion's roots in the Hebrew Bible also fashion a Christianized seder to reflect the common assumption that the Last Supper was a Passover seder. But scholars point out that the Gospels disagree among themselves over whether the Last Supper took place on Passover or on the day before. And in Jesus' time the seder service was not set in the way we know it today.

These Christianized seders show the Passover story as merely the prelude to the advent of Jesus. This distresses some Jews and Christians. "It's deceptive to introduce Christian themes into the Jewish seder. When you start talking about Jesus, that is no longer a seder. That is a different creation altogether," a vehicle for preaching or proselytizing, says Rabbi Neil Gillman, professor emeritus of Jewish philosophy at the Jewish Theological Seminary.

from the story "Is Passover the New Christmas?
by Diane Cole
The Wall Street Journal

Just when you thought it was safe for Christians and Messianics to celebrate the Passover, another monkey wrench comes flying into the machine.

It's been awhile since I've seen a good knock-down-drag-out, Messianic Judaism, One Law, Bilateral Ecclesiology free-for-all in the Messianic blogosphere. We've all been (amazingly) well behaved, blogging about actual theological and faith issues, and pretty much not stepping on each others toes. I was almost convinced that these issues were settled between Christians and Jews, at least as far as Passover was concerned. Then I read Cole's story.

The interesting part is that my wife was the person who emailed this story to me, right before Passover started (about an hour before candle lighting). Reading the article, I couldn't help but consider that my congregation, a group of Christians from my wife's point of view, were going to be having one of those "Christianized seders" about 24 hours hence (last Tuesday night, actually). My wife denied having any ulterior motives for sending me the email. She told me she just thought I'd find the article interesting, but if she wasn't trying to send me a "message" consciously, I still wonder about what was lurking somewhere in the inner reaches of her brain pan. Maybe I'm being overly concerned.

I'm also really, really surprised this issue didn't come up in our little corner of cyberspace. It seems like all of the "angst" of what I call "strict Messianic Judaism" as driven by the concept of Bilateral Ecclesiology (coined in Mark Kinzer's book, Post-Missionary Messianic Judaism and blogged about by Derek Leman and Gene Shlomovich, among others) has evaporated into a soft, gentile mist.

There was a time when, if any non-Jew did anything Jewish, the opposing comments from Jews in "the movement" would have been swift and decisive. Has everyone just gotten tired of arguing? Why no cries of outrage at Baptists and Methodists conducting their own Seders? Why no vocal protests against Gentile "Messianics" leading their own Seders and declaring themselves free from slavery in Egypt?

I'll make the situation even worse. I'll mention Jewish/Gentile intermarried couples as quoted from Cole's article:

The changing demographics of American Jewry have played a role, too. Before 1970, only 13% of married American Jews were married to non-Jews. By the turn of the 21st century, that figure was 47%, according to the National Jewish Population Survey. As a result, interfaith couples and families have had a growing presence at Passover seder tables, both as guests and as hosts.

For some of these families, the seder—which has a recognizable theme and generally takes place at someone's home, rather than at a synagogue—provides a comfortable introduction to Jewish ritual. That's one message of the recently published book by journalists Cokie and Steve Roberts, Our Haggadah: Uniting Traditions for Interfaith Families. Themselves an intermarried couple (he's Jewish, she's Catholic), the Robertses have for decades hosted a Passover seder, mostly for other interfaith families.

Gentile/Jewish intermarrieds are another "hot button" issue that tends to touch a nerve in both Messianic and non-Messianic Jewish circles although, according to the statistic presented in the above-quoted statement, almost half of all U.S. Jews are married to non-Jews, so it must be the other half that's upset about it (or non-intermarried Jews in other nations, especially Israel). Additionally, the vast majority of Jews in the Messianic movement as a whole are themselves intermarried. It seems interfaith couples are not only bringing non-Jews to the Seder table, but into the worship of the Jewish Messiah as well.

In addition to Rabbi Gillman's objections to "Christianized seders", some Christian authorities are also concerned about Christians entering into the Passover arena:

Hal Taussig, pastor of Chestnut Hill United Methodist Church in Philadelphia and a visiting professor of New Testament at Union Theological Seminary, says that after presiding over Christianized seders from the mid-1970s to mid-'80s, he had second thoughts. He chose to stop the practice, he says, because he recognized "the ways in which such a service replaces the Jewish celebration with a Christian one." And that, concludes Rev. Serene Jones, the president of Union Theological Seminary, "makes Jews invisible."

While the portion of the Messianic world of which I am aware has chosen to remain silent regarding Gentiles and the Passover, both traditional Judaism and Christianity have taken up the banner and gone on record in asking us, "just what the heck do you think you're doing?"

What are we doing? Are we making Jews "invisible"?

My family and I have had Seders in our home before. I didn't really think it was inappropriate for me to lead the Seder as a Christian husband to a Jewish wife, but a few days ago, I had the distinct feeling of being uncomfortable. This is the first Seder we've had in our home since my wife has become so closely associated with our local Chabad community. In some ways, she's becoming increasingly Jewish right before my eyes. I don't object to this in the slightest, but I am mindful that it creates something of a gulf between us along the axis of our separate (and increasingly separating) faiths. I'm not sure anymore how much of Judaism I should try to connect to and still not seem like a caricature in my wife's eyes.

Like my marriage, Christians and Jews operate on the same planet (and in the case of my wife and me, in the same home) but not always in the same worlds. More accurately put, we operate in overlapping worlds, but just how far can we go before my Christian presence in her Jewish world becomes uncomfortable to her? We've seen this question played out in the Messianic movement time and again, and the current Christian fascination with "seeing Christ in the Passover" only heightens the "experience". If the "last supper" of Jesus (Yeshua) wasn't a Passover Seder, the imagery and symbolism of the Passover is still undeniably imposed on his last meal, and on his death. It may be uncomfortable for Judaism to accept this, but Christianity has a tangible link to the Passover, thanks to the Jewish Messiah (though he's not currently recognized as such by Judaism as a whole), and now we have to decide how to respond to it.

The "sacrament" of Holy Communion is the way the church has traditionally adapted the "bread/body" and "wine/blood" aspects introduced by Jesus, but that, and Easter, may be redundant and even misguided. While they make Judaism feel more secure because Communion and Easter separate Christian observances of "last supper" events from Passover, they also (in my opinion) don't honor the original intent and context of that last "Meal of the Messiah". That said, should Christians stick to Communion and Easter and leave Passover to the Jews? Did the Jewish Messiah open the door to a Christian application for the Passover, making Easter unnecessary? Is there a mandate for Christians to celebrate both Passover and Easter, or is that making a much larger mess out of an already confused situation?

Jesus said that, "many will come from the east and the west, and will take their places at the feast with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 8:11). If we're good enough to sit down at a meal with the Patriarchs, why can't we sit down at a Seder with them as well?

Addendum: A scientist claims to have definitively dated the last supper and resolved the conflict between the different Gospel versions of this event. I'm dubious, but have a look for yourself.

The road is long and often, we travel in the dark.

The Diseased Messiah

Our Sages ask: “What is Mashiach’s name?” and reply “The leper of the House of Rebbi.” This is very difficult to understand. Mashiach will initiate the Redemption, and is associated with the pinnacle of life and vitality. How can his name be linked with leprosy (tzaraas), which is identified with death and exile?

-from Mashiach's Name
Commentary on Torah Portion Metzora; Leviticus 14:1-15:33
Chabad.org

He was despised and forsaken of men,
A man of sorrows and acquainted with grief;
And like one from whom men hide their face
He was despised, and we did not esteem Him.
Surely our griefs He Himself bore,
And our sorrows He carried;
Yet we ourselves esteemed Him stricken,
Smitten of God, and afflicted.
-Isaiah 53:3-4

Both Christianity and Judaism understand the above-quoted passage from the Prophet Isaiah to refer to the Messiah. The "suffering servant" aspect of Jesus is well integrated into Christian belief, but it presents something of a problem in Judaism, where the Messiah is seen as a conquering King and a "political" figure who will return self-rule of the totality of the Land of Israel to the Jewish people, and establish an era of peace for the entire world.

The Chabad commentary continues:

There is still a difficulty. Although the above passage explains why Mashiach must endure suffering, it does not show why that suffering is identified with Mashiach. Mashiach’s name who he is should be positive.

The First Fruits of Zion (FFOZ) commentary presents a very similar take on how this coming Shabbat's Torah portion applies to the Messiah. As you can see, they mirror the Chabad's understanding and cite the same sources:

And the rabbis say: "[The name of Messiah] is The Leper of the House of Study, as it is said, 'Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered him stricken by God, smitten by Him, and afflicted.'" -Sanhedrin 98b

If you've been reading my blog posts lately, you'll know I believe that we (non-Jewish disciples of the Jewish Messiah) can achieve a better understanding of the Master we serve, by trying to see him through the eyes of his original disciples and their descendants; the Jewish people. I am beginning to gather some significant insights into the Messiah by reading and probing Talmudic and Chasidic thoughts on the matter. I am even occasionally amazed on how well some of these teachings illustrate the life and teachings of Yeshua (Jesus).

But while Judaism, at least in some perspectives, expects two Messiahs and not one (one a suffering servant and the other a conquering King), Christians and Messianics can see the one person being both the "diseased" Messiah and the ruling Messiah.

He has already removed the barrier that separates man from the divine by bearing our sufferings, our diseases, and our wounds (which he did not deserve but he took upon himself because we did...and do). May he come soon and in our day to repair our broken world and to reign over us all in justice and mercy.

Therefore God exalted him to the highest place
and gave him the name that is above every name,
that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father. -Philippians 2:9-11

Amen.

Update: Friday, April 8: For more, read The Leper Scholar by Joshua Brumbach.

The road is long and often, we travel in the dark.

Book Review: Yeshua in Context

The stories of Yeshua demand a response. The normal order of meaning, the rules of the game called life, are changed in his stories. We are each confronted with the problem of meaning, the possible ways his story intersects our story.

In a number of his sayings, Yeshua says something about himself or about a way of life that calls for action. He implies that when we have encountered him (in our case, through story and not in person), we will understand something about the realm above, about a deeper life, about a breakthrough from the present world to the world to come.

Derek Leman in the final chapter of his book
Yeshua in Context: The Life and Times of Yeshua the Messiah

Yeshua in Context is a book about stories. You might say that, from Leman's perspective, the writers of the Gospels are storytellers rather than reporters. Leman, a theologian who earned his Master's degree in Hebrew Bible studies from Emory University, and who is a Rabbi at Tikvat David Messianic Synagogue, addresses what many New Testament scholars view as inconsistencies in the Gospels, by presenting them as differences of intent in what the writers were trying to communicate about the Jewish Messiah.

Leman is also a storyteller. By writing this book, he's sharing with his audience his own perspective; his own story, about who the Jewish Messiah is to him and what Yeshua means in Leman's life. Leman tells us a story that is largely scholarly and somewhat personal, with just a hint of the mystic.

Yeshua in Context is also about giving the reader access to the story. At only 154 pages long and presenting no lengthy set of footnotes, no extensive bibliography, and not even a single appendix, Leman constructs a text that takes the complexity of the life of Yeshua (Jesus), his teachings, his 1st century Jewish context, and his Messianic identity, and opens them up to the rest of us with deceptive ease.

I say "deceptive" because there's a great deal of density contained just beneath the surface of each page in the book. For instance, Leman takes the familiar parable of the prodigal son (Luke 15:11-32) and tells the reader something about Yeshua's role as a prophet as it relates to the prophetic tales of Isaiah and Jeremiah. He takes the much discussed and interpreted Beatitudes and presents his own story about the coming Kingdom of God. He engages the parable of the wicked tenants (Mark 12:1-12) and discusses the mystery of why a father would send a beloved son on an assuredly fatal mission.

He even says something about a topic near and dear to me; the divine nature of the Messiah as related to the Shechinah and seen through a Kabbalistic lens:

The Aramaic paraphrases of Yeshua's day, the Targums, said about this story that the Israelites looked for healing to the Memra of God, the Word of God, the manifestation of God on earth...This is exactly who Yeshua is claiming to be: the one with all the nature of God manifested on earth, the radiation of God's being, his Word or Presence. In kabbalistic terminology (from later Judaism), Yeshua is the sum of all sefirot (emanations) and the Father is the Ein Sof (the One without End, the unseeable One...).

I said before that there were no lengthy collection of footnotes in this book, but a brief Bibliography is offered right before Chapter 1, and in the body of each chapter, any of the works cited are referenced by the author's last name and page number. As teacher and student, the writer adequately points back to his research, albeit in a way that doesn't interrupt the flow of his narrative.

When I write reviews for technical books, I usually include a mention of any book-associated websites and the value added to the book by on line material. In this case, Leman has created a website (thanks to the power of WordPress) dedicated to continuing for the reader, the education found in his book. In a sense, it's a very large extension to what, on the surface, seems like a relatively short discussion.

One of the reasons I asked to review this book was because of my personal attempt to reconcile the internal discrepancies of the Gospels with the authority of the Bible. How can the holy writings of Christianity be authoritative if they don't perfectly and completely "line up", so to speak? Is the source material of Christianity flawed and, if so, how can we depend upon it as an accurate rendition of the author of our faith?

I'm not sure I found the whole answer in Leman's book, but I think I found some of the answer as related to other books and, more to the point, other perspectives. I'm coming to an understanding of the discrepancies recorded in the Gospels, in terms of what traditional Jewish scholars would view when reading the differences between Talmudic and Midrashic versions of the same story. From a modern, western point of view, we struggle with inconsistent reports from two or more witnesses of the same event, and attempt to harmonize the various iterations. From the Jewish student's vantage point however, no problem exists. Each "story" is accepted on its own merit without the need to have it completely make sense with other stories. The reader gleans the important elements from the story without trying to make it match up with what others have written about the same anecdote.

This is where, in my opinion anyway, the authority of the Bible can be discovered. Not in viewing it as a comprehensive report on testimony delivered in a court case, but as a collection of holy writings by righteous men (tzaddikim) who want us to experience the most righteous one of God through a series of mystic tales.

You might not find that all of your questions about the Jewish Messiah are answered in Derek Leman's book, but it's a good place to start.

Yeshua in Context is available for purchase at Mount Olive Press.

Review: Love and the Messianic Age

Kabbalistic literature is, generally speaking, comparable to a large, sprawling city with many treacherous back-alleys, dangerous neighborhoods, and sudden, unexpected dead-ends. Even with a good map and a good sense for direction, the visitor is likely to find himself lost and confused and may easily stray into a bad part of town. Rather than trying to find your way through this maze-like metropolis on your own, we recommend you follow a reliable guide. Paul Philip Levertoff is just such a guide.

Boaz Michael from the Foreward to the
Love and the Messianic Age Commentary

I love this description of navigating the mystic Jewish writings. I feel as if, opening the pages to Paul Philip Levertoff's Love and the Messianic Age, that I'm an American tourist on his first visit to Constantinople. The year is 1923, and I've been suddenly diverted from my innocent vacation plans into adventure and intrigue, thrown in with Kasper Gutman and a collection of rogues, searching the back alleys of this ancient city for some clue as to the whereabouts of the Maltese Falcon.

While Dashell Hammett's famous detective novel wasn't published until 1930, Levertoff's short but impressive work originally became available in 1923 and now, thanks to First Fruits of Zion (FFOZ) and Vine of David, Levertoff's writing, insights, and expression of Jesus the Jewish Messiah, are accessible to us again.

Before continuing with this review, you might want to become briefly acquainted with Levertoff and how a young Chasidic Jew at the end of the 19th Century came to faith in Jesus, by reading my blog post, A Short Lesson from Feivel the Chasid. Levertoff's journey from an Orthodox Jewish student in Orsha, Belarus to an Anglican priest in Wales is fascinating and even amazing. Understanding his journey is the way to understand what he has to say to us.

As Boaz Michael writes in the Foreward to the book's commentary, mysticism isn't for everybody. I didn't think it was for me either, but I was getting "stuck" reading more Christian-oriented inspirational and scholarly works, as a way to find the Jewish Messiah. The vast collection of Gentile Christian commentary has made discovering the "original" Jesus difficult by largely dismissing a Hebraic understanding of the Jewish Messiah, his Jewish disciples, and his teachings as a Jewish Rabbi and Prophet. After briefly being introduced to Levertoff's book and the concept of Jewish mystic writings on Derek Leman's blog, Boaz Michael suggested that I read (and review) Levertoff's book and the accompanying commentary.

I did...and I was hooked.

If you follow my blog, you could probably guess this, as, over the past two weeks, I've posted about 9 or 10 separate "mini-reviews" of different concepts and lessons I've learned while reading Levertoff.

Since last summer, I've been challenging my faith and questioning my basic assumptions about who Jesus is and who I am in him. This investigation intensified at the beginning February when I ran headlong into my ambiguity about the deity of Jesus (is he or is he not literally God?). In reading various Christian texts including Bowman's and Komoszewski's Putting Jesus in His Place, I failed to discover sufficient evidence and information to convince me that the Orthodox Christian viewpoint on Christ's deity and the Trinity held water. Reading Levertoff, I think I've found out why.

He read the Gospels in German. Then he obtained a Hebrew version and reread them. Though he was in the midst of a Gentile, Christian city where Jesus was worshiped in churches and honored in every home, Feivel felt the Gospels belonged more to him and the Chasidic world than they did to the Gentiles who revered them. He found the Gospels to be thoroughly Jewish and conceptually similar to Chasidic Judaism. He wondered how Gentile Christians could hope to comprehend Yeshua (Jesus) and His words without the benefit of a classical Jewish education or experience with the esoteric works of the Chasidim.

Taken from Jorge Quinonez:
"Paul Philip Levertoff: Pioneering Hebrew-Christian Scholar and Leader"
Mishkan 37 (2002): 21-34
as quoted from Love and the Messianic Age

I think Levertoff is right. I don't believe it's really possible to understand what the Jewish Messiah is teaching by taking him out of his context. I think what impressed Levertoff about the Gospels should absolutely amaze us.

In 1887 a nine-year-old Chasidic Jew named Feivel Levertoff was trudging home from cheder (a Jewish day school) when a discarded scrap of paper caught his eye. It was printed with Hebrew text. Supposing it was a leaf from a prayer book or other sacred volume, Feivel picked it out of the snow.

He quickly read the piece of paper. It was a page from a book he had never read before. It told the story of a boy like himself - not much older either - whose parents found him in the Holy Temple in Jerusalem, expounding the Scriptures and learning with the great sages of antiquity.

Jorge Quinonez continues this tale of young Feivel by telling us that he had found a Hebrew translation of Luke 2:45-47 and supposed it was part of the Jewish holy writings. Feivel was shocked when he later showed the paper to his father, and his father expressed anger, forbade Feivel from ever again reading "such things", and then watched his father crumple the paper and toss it into the stove.

This was just the beginning of Levertoff's fascination with the Gospels as Feivel (later he chose the name Paul Philip after his formal conversion to Christianity) secretly found opportunities to continue reading the teachings of "Rebbe Yeshua of Nazareth". What continued to draw Levertoff along this path (and what should draw us as well), is how the Gospels so seamlessly and thoroughly blended into the Chasidic Jewish mystic writings, teachings, and world view. Seen through the eyes of a teenager who had the benefit of a classical Jewish education and exposure to the esoteric works of the Chasidim, Feivel was puzzled at how Gentile Christianity could ever make heads or tails of Yeshua. By the time Levertoff was 17, he was a devoted Chasid (a "Chasid" is a disciple of a distinguished Rabbi or spiritual leader in a religious community) of the great Rebbe Yeshua.

What Levertoff created in writing Love and the Messianic Age some decades later, and what FFOZ/Vine of David has provided by creating their commentary on Levertoff, is a roadmap that allows us to see the territory of the teachings of Christ through the lens of the Zohar, the Tanya, and the realm of Chasidic Judaism.

Although the world sees Levertoff as a Jewish convert to Christianity, it is more accurate to describe him as a Chasidic disciple of the Jewish Messiah. Levertoff's Jewish understanding of Jesus as the greatest and most unique Prophet, Rabbi, and ultimately, as the Messiah and Son of God, never wavered throughout his lifetime, and by writing Love and the Messianic Age, he granted a larger audience the ability to see through his eyes. By republishing Levertoff's book and writing their own detailed commentary on Levertoff, FFOZ and Vine of David have allowed even generally non-mystic, non-Jewish people like me, the ability to navigate the strange roads Boaz Michael describes, and to finally understand the Lord and Savior of the world as I believe he truly is.

If you're reading my review from a traditional Christian context, you may be having problems understanding what resonates within me when I read Levertoff, but I have found in this book, the missing piece of the jigsaw puzzle in the picture of Jesus. Each writer, each scholar, each believer, has a different way of seeing Jesus. Sometimes the differences are slight, but I've found some of those differences to be profound. I can't say as an absolute fact, that Levertoff's presentation of who Jesus is, and his understanding of what Jesus taught, is the only way or the best way to look at the identity, nature, and character of the Jewish Messiah, but it is the only perspective that has answered questions for me, that no other investigator has truly addressed. How does Christ's deity connect to the Shechinah? How does the Gospel of John line up with the writings in the Zohar? What is the match between the Christian concept of koinonia and achdut or "unity", the highest ideal in Chasidism?

It seems more than astounding that the world of Jewish mysticism and the world of the Gospels so completely map to one another. It's like wandering through a city where the streets have no names, and then finding a guide who tells you how it all makes sense.

You may be thinking that trying to grasp the meaning behind Jesus by using a Chasidic model is too far for you to go. However, there's actually nothing particularly difficult about reading Levertoff or the commentary. The sources being cited may be beyond your experiences (they were for me), but the interface provided by book and by the commentary, make what's being said and the attendant meaning very accessible. For me, beyond accessibility and meaning, I also found illumination.

This isn't the only way to look at and understand Jesus, and it may not be the one you would choose at first, but I highly recommend that you give it a try, especially if how you see the Jewish Messiah right now in your faith, seems a little bit stale or perhaps, is just a picture that hasn't challenged you for a very long time.

Who is Jesus really? What did he teach? Is it possible that what you have been taught; what you think you understand isn't the whole picture? If those are questions you have, I urge you to get a copy of Levertoff's book as well as the FFOZ/Vine of David commentary. Read them slowly. Carefully unfold the map. Discover how the ancient streets and byways of the Holy City begin to open up for you. Faith isn't a vacation; it's an adventure. Let Paul Philip Levertoff be your guide to discovery and treasure.