In Opposition

To the married I give this command (not I, but the Lord): A wife must not separate from her husband. But if she does, she must remain unmarried or else be reconciled to her husband. And a husband must not divorce his wife.

To the rest I say this (I, not the Lord): If any brother has a wife who is not a believer and she is willing to live with him, he must not divorce her. And if a woman has a husband who is not a believer and he is willing to live with her, she must not divorce him. For the unbelieving husband has been sanctified through his wife, and the unbelieving wife has been sanctified through her believing husband. Otherwise your children would be unclean, but as it is, they are holy.

But if the unbeliever leaves, let it be so. The brother or the sister is not bound in such circumstances; God has called us to live in peace. How do you know, wife, whether you will save your husband? Or, how do you know, husband, whether you will save your wife? -1 Corinthians 7:10-16

Almost three months ago, I wrote a blog post called The Unequal Yoke, specifically addressing Christian/Jewish intermarriages in the Messianic community (and to a certain degree, the larger world of Christian-Jewish intermarriage). More recently, I've been following the comments on the Be All You Can Be blog post at Spiritually Unequal Marriage, which seems to be a blog crafted primarily for Christian women who are married to unbelieving husbands.

I occasionally comment on that blog (though I'm not a Christian woman and my wife has a faith) because I am an "intermarried" and believe I can add a unique and hopefully valuable insight to various conversations. In reading some of the comments on the aforementioned blog post, I'm reminded of a more expansive issue in both Christianity and Judaism.

Families can be fractured when one spouse "has faith" and the other does not. It's most typical, at least in my experience, for the woman of the household to be the "faithful" one, often taking the children with her to church or synagogue while the husband stays home or does errands. This is ironic because in both Christian and Jewish traditions, the husband is identified as the "spiritual leader" of the family and has specific behavioral responsibilities (particularly in Judaism) relative to God and family. Nevertheless, women seem to have been designed to be more "spiritually sensitive" than men, perhaps because women are more often communally and relationship oriented than men.

But where does that leave the wives and mothers? Not in a very good spot.

Often, this schism puts the woman at odds with her husband as she tries to balance her responsibilities to both the home and the church or synagogue. While all people of faith can sometimes experience a "higher calling" to God than to the family, in fact, our first "ministry" is in our home. This is more easily realized in Judaism than in Christianity, since the primary focus of worship occurs in the home, particularly for women who are considered exempt halachically from many of the commandments related to praying with a minyan in the synagogue (and in Orthodox Judaism, women cannot make up a minyan, although in a Reform shul, it would be allowed).

Besides being conflicted and feeling guilty, what can women do when they are the person of faith in the marriage and the husband is either indifferent or actively opposed to her religious activities?

I don't have a pat answer for that one. I do know that my own small congregation typically has members and attendees who come without their spouses for exactly this reason. In my case, my wife's faith does not accept Christ as the Messiah, and so she "declines" to attend services with me, even on an occasional basis. There are a wide variety of reasons why I cannot currently attend any activities at the Chabad or Reform synagogues with her in our community, so our active, communal worship lives are isolated from one another.

One of our fellows attends our congregation alone on Saturdays and goes to a more traditional church with his wife and grandchildren on Sundays. A woman, who has been with us for many years, has just recently convinced her husband to begin attending our classes and services, but for a long time, he refused. This illustrates that it is not just marriages in which one spouse is religious and the other is not where this dynamic can be found, but in relationships where each spouse belongs to different religions or different "denominations" within the same basic faith.

Almost always, there's a certain amount of tension in the home as a result of such a conflict and a sense of loss during worship, even as we pray and draw closer to God, because our loved one is not at our side (and while in an Orthodox Jewish setting, men and women do not sit with each other, they are both aware that each is praying within their own context in the synagogue).

I write all this, not to try and solve a problem which perhaps has no visible solution, but to offer a thought. It's not as if God isn't aware of our circumstances and is unconcerned. However, like many of our other needs and difficulties, God doesn't always choose to immediately intervene and "solve" the problem for us.

“So I say to you: Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.

“Which of you fathers, if your son asks for a fish, will give him a snake instead? Or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? 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 the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” -Luke 11:9-13

From this and many other writings about prayer we see in the Bible, believers sometimes get the impression that all we have to do is pray and God will immediately give us what we have asked for and then some. However, God is not like the genie in the story about Aladdin. Faith, prayer, and our relationship with God isn't quite that simple. There is much we can and must learn from the experience of God not solving all of our problems the minute we realize we have them. If He did, that would pretty much do away with the requirement to have faith, particularly under duress.

In Mark 10:7-9, Jesus, referring to Genesis 2:24 says, "For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh.’ So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate”. From this, we see that except under specific circumstances (referring back to 1 Corinthians 7:10-16), a "mixed marriage" is not reason enough to separate a couple and in fact, God expects us to keep the vows we made on our wedding day ("for better or for worse" may come to mind).

Your unbelieving spouse is not your enemy. He (or she) is by design, the closest human being to you on the planet. Depending on your view of marriage as seen through the lens of faith, you may have an understanding that God specifically arranged for you to be married to your spouse and yes, knowing that one of you would be believing and the other would not have faith. God does, or at least allows, a lot of other things we don't understand and sometimes these are things that cause us pain. Why does God allow a child to be born with Down's Syndrome? Why do some children die? Why do some Christian families lose their jobs, their homes, and end up living in poverty?

Why are you a Christian while your spouse is an atheist?

The point isn't that God has the answer and isn't telling, but that you are a person of faith and you are in distress.

I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth. -Psalm 121:1-2

I know that doesn't always help (and maybe you feel guilty because your faith isn't stronger so you "feel" faith instead of frustration), but it's true nonetheless.

In Genesis 32, Jacob's famous struggle with the angel is understood as a struggle with faith. He was about to face his brother Esau, the one who had vowed to kill Jacob, for the first time in decades and Jacob didn't know how he'd handle it. God showed Jacob that he could indeed struggle with even divine adversity and still win.

So can we, but as Jacob's example teaches us, sometimes it takes awhile (Jacob wrestled all night and the match wasn't over by dawn) and sometimes it hurts (after the struggle, Jacob walked with a limp for the rest of his life).

Yet we struggle...because that is life and that is faith.

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

Where is the House that God Built?

Unless the LORD builds the house, the builders labor in vain. Unless the LORD watches over the city, the guards stand watch in vain. In vain you rise early
and stay up late, toiling for food to eat - for he grants sleep to those he loves. -Psalm 127:1-2

For I am already being poured out, and the time of my departure has arrived. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have guarded the belief. For the rest, there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Master, the righteous Judge, shall give to me on that Day, and not to me only but also to all those loving His appearing." -2 Timothy 4:6-8

I'm quoting from two recent blog posts, Writing in the Dirt and The Maggid's Blog respectively. I've been feeling a little uninspired and unmotivated on this blog over the past few days, but the combination of these messages suggested a topic.

Actually, I also have to include Derek Leman's report on Hashivenu 2011, Day 3 to the mix, since it also discusses the topic of "community", particularly between the church and the Messianic Jewish synagogue.

The solution may be found in a number of forms. New congregations that are solely Jewish can form. Existing mixed groups could find ways to be on a trajectory toward Jewish congregations. My own suggestion, well-received, was that many existing MJ congregations think of themselves as Judeo-Christian congregations with a Jewish minyan within. Over time, we can work toward an independent life for the Jewish minyans within our congregations.

What does this have to do with me?

Right now, it seems like "not much". As I feel myself mentally and emotionally divorcing myself from anything that calls itself "Messianic Judaism", I keep trying to envision myself going back to "the church". Frankly, the idea still feels rather alien to me, in part because of the quote from Psalm 127. In my search for a "church home", how do I know which one has been "built by the Lord"? As I read Derek's report on the Hashivenu conference (and I recommend giving it a look...lots of interesting stuff), I find myself also feeling alien in relation to Messianic Judaism. I suppose the latter comes from not ever having attended a "Messianic Jewish" congregation as opposed to a One Law group that was primarily Gentile-driven. Given Derek's description of the conference over the past three days, I don't think I'd fit in there, either.

So what's left?

I don't know right now. Like any Pending Divorce, there's a part of the process where you feel neither connected nor disconnected, but are cycling somewhere in between the two states of being.

That brings me to the comment Paul wrote in 2 Timothy 4:6-8 as he was coming to the end of his life. I'm expected to "run the race" until the very end and I certainly want to, but as it stands now, I'll be a marathon runner somewhere out on the road in the middle of the night, away from anyone else, looking for sign posts.

My son complicated matters just a little while ago. I had lunch with him to discuss things that are going on in his life including matters of faith. Although both he and his wife are believers, they haven't ever attended a church together. They're currently living with my son's in-laws who also believe but don't attend a church.

Feeling my own sense of "disconnectedness", I asked him about going to a congregation and he suggested coming to mine.

Oh wow!

David's been to a Messianic (One Law) group before, so he knows more or less what to expect, but his wife will be taken by surprise, no doubt. Plus, I've never actually taught family members before, which I can only imagine is a unique experience. How can I tell him that I'm getting ready to leave soon? How can I tell him that as of this summer, I will be as much without a congregation as he and his family are now?

My son did say a funny thing, though. He said that when a person feels comfortable where they're at in their church or congregation, that's when they need to do something to make themselves uncomfortable. In other words, faith isn't supposed to be an easy going process.

I can relate to that very well. Now, all I need to know is where to find the house that the Lord built. I'm sure it must be around here...

...somewhere.

The road is long and often, we travel in the dark, ignoring the light of the world. Look for the lamp who lights your path or you may become lost in the dark forever.

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

Missionary Work

If we ever expect to change the church, which is needed, how do we intend to do that outside of relationship and without personal sacrifice? James, I applaud individuals like you mention above and see them in no different light that people that make a commitment to serve in desperate lands to bring the Gospel, food, care, and service to those lost and hurting. Everyone is called to be a missionary—I think a very valid question to ask oneself is, “How am I serving God, sacrificing my time and personal comfort for the sake of the kingdom.”
Anonymous comment on the
Searching for the Light on the Path blog post:
Bilateral Living

This is an extension of the discussion taking place in the comments section of my previous blog post (link above). I didn't intend for the previous article to be a conversation on the virtues of attending a church vs a synagogue (vs something else), but that's what it's turned into. It's also turned into a discussion over doing "missionary work".

Missionary work in the Christian church. A novel idea (though not the first time I've heard it). Thanks for the suggestion. -Me

Messianic Movement could use some of that too:) -Gene Shlomovich

I really must ask Gene what he meant by that. Who should do "missionary work" in the Messianic synagogue? I think the answer would be fascinating.

Anyway.

When we make a decision to attend a house of worship, most of the time, we're thinking about what it will do for us and our family. "Will I be fed?" "Do they have a good children's program?" These are some of the questions we ask when we're "church shopping".

But what about what we can give back?

That's usually a secondary concern but one that comes up after we're integrated into the community. Sure, there are plenty of folks who are "pew warmers", but I've found that if there's a job to do and you have the skill set to do it, the job will find you.

At the church I used to attend many years ago, I drove my daughter to a mid-week Bible class and had time to kill. The church was expecting a new Pastor soon and they were trying to make the place all spiffy for him. I noticed that there were a lot of weeds in the lawn out front. It was summer. I had time. Anyone can pull weeds. I started pulling weeds. I remember feeling self-conscious because I hadn't asked anyone's permission. Fortunately, no one got mad and in fact, someone came out on one occasion to thank me.

Later on, I was asked if I'd like to be an usher, which I accepted while still in a state of shock. I was actually getting pretty cozy in that church until my wife told me about "Messianic Judaism".

I think it's important to have a role in your faith community. That's probably one reason why I stopped going to the Reform synagogue. I didn't have a role.

I asked for one. There was a gal who took care of the synagogue's computers and network equipment and, knowing a little bit about that stuff, I asked her if I could help, particularly when she was on vacation. The email I got back was a rather terse "no thanks", so I figured I must have stepped on some toes. Like the church I had left, there were "in groups" and "out groups" in the synagogue, and I was about as much "out" as you could get.

Doing "missionary work" in the church or Messianic synagogue is an intriguing thought, but I can only imagine it would have to be handled with the greatest care:

He and his wife believe that, in addition to attending our local community, they must also continue to be in a church to promote love of Israel among the Christian community. They searched for a church in our area where the Pastor presented an authentic teaching rather than, in this fellow's words, "putting on a dog and pony show."

They've found a church (albeit one about 30 miles away) where the Pastor and congregation love the Jewish people and who view supersessionism as blatant antisemitism. This church sounds like a dream come true.

This guy (I'll call him "Bob") and his wife are retired and, as I mentioned on the other blog post, he has a long history with the UMJC and is an excellent Bible student. Frankly, it's a little embarrassing to be teaching him since he knows so much more than I do. Fortunately, he's gracious about it.

Anyway, he didn't pick the church he and his wife currently attend at random. While he was wrapping up affairs and preparing to retire from his job in another state, his wife was here church shopping. I have no idea how she found the church they currently attend, but the criteria they had for a church was one where the Pastor actually "did his homework", really tried to teach "meat", and had a love for Israel and the Jewish people.

From Bob's description, they hit the jackpot.

So it's not just a matter of connecting with any random church environment. Plenty of churches probably wouldn't have accepted them and what they believe, but this church just attached to them. Bob says an older woman approached him recently and told him she regularly donates to "Jews for Jesus" because she loves the Jewish people. Say what you will about "Jews for Jesus", but this woman is doing her best, and with a giving heart, trying to support the chosen people of God.

But how can this be applied for the rest of us? Sure, you may get lucky and find a church like this in your community, but from reading all of the various comments, I get the feeling such churches are rare. Further, how would you extend Gene's idea in the other direction and provide "missionary work" in the Messianic Jewish synagogue?

Comments?

The road is long and often, we travel in the dark, ignoring the light of the world. Look for the lamp who lights your path or you may become lost in the dark forever.

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

Imagining Ourselves

And he set up the enclosure around the Tabernacle and the altar, and put up the screen for the gate of the enclosure. When Moses had finished the work, the cloud covered the Tent of Meeting, and the Presence of the Lord filled the Tabernacle. Moses could not enter the Tent of Meeting, because the cloud had settled upon it and the Presence of the Lord filled the Tabernacle. When the cloud lifted from the Tabernacle, the Israelites would set out, on their various journeys; but if the cloud did not lift, they would not set out until such time as it did lift. For over the Tabernacle a cloud of the Lord rested by day, and fire would appear in it by night, in the view of all the house of Israel throughout their journeys. -Exodus 40:33-38

I've often tried to imagine what it must have been like to stand there with all those millions of people, surrounding the newly constructed Tabernacle. I imagine that the immense crowd is hushed with anticipation. Moses has just finished the last piece of construction, putting up the screen for the gate of the enclosure. Everything is set. We are waiting. And then it happens.

There's nothing in the text that suggests this, but I always picture this scene as happening at night. The "cloud" of fire is descending slowly, majestically, in awesome wonder as three million people collectively hold their breath. The cloud descends and enters the Tabernacle which, up to this moment, was completely dark.

Then suddenly, the structure explodes with light and the weight of His Presence causes the earth to tremble. Three million people gasp and then burst forth in cheers and songs of praise and worship. The Lord God Almighty finally lives among His people!

It would have been the thrill of a lifetime to just have witnessed those few moments when the Divine Presence rested upon the Tabernacle, even if, after it was over, I was asked to leave. After all, I'm not one of the Children of Israel.

It might surprise you to find out that I also imagine myself living in Jerusalem in the time of Yeshua. No, I'm not so bold as to even imagine a personal meeting with the Jewish Messiah. Encounters between Yeshua and non-Jews were rare and he had come for "the lost sheep of Israel".

But I see myself approaching the Temple. I'm only allowed as far as the court of the Gentiles, of course, and I pick out a place for myself at the back of the court, furthest away from where the Jews are able to enter to be closer to "the Presence". I try to stay to the shadows, being unworthy to even be this close. As a non-Jew, I wouldn't be wearing a tallit, but I hope for a hood or a shroud to cover myself in the wings of prayer and then to silently petition and praise the God of the Jews.

It would be an honor just to touch those stones and walk the ground on which the Temple was built, even for a few moments. I think I would wonder what it would be like to go in. What a moment it would be if someone like me could offer a sacrifice and have it be accepted...even just one time. But that wouldn't be possible and after my prayers, I would have to leave.

I sometimes imagine being in a small synagogue in the diaspora, worshiping in the back on Shabbat with other goyim God-fearers. I have trouble picturing this part, because as far as I understand it, people memorized the prayers in those days. Would I have learned Hebrew prayers from the Jewish worshipers to offer the King or would I only speak my thoughts and my heart in my native tongue? How I would tremble in wonder at the realization that we could pray to the One God, even though as a non-Jew, I'd be separated from the more formal worship that was occurring at the front of the synagogue.

While I could never approach it, let alone read from it, I imagine the removal of the Torah from the ark as the highlight of my Shabbat worship. In a way, its appearance in the congregation is an echo of the initial moment when the Divine Presence inhabited the Mishkan, those many centuries ago.

I wonder what it would all have been like?

I sometimes imagine myself being among the Gentiles accompanying Cornelius and his household and listening to the words of the Apostle Peter, a man who had walked with the Messiah himself, as this happened:

While Peter was still speaking these words, the Holy Spirit came on all who heard the message. The circumcised believers who had come with Peter were astonished that the gift of the Holy Spirit had been poured out even on Gentiles. For they heard them speaking in tongues and praising God. Then Peter said, “Surely no one can stand in the way of their being baptized with water. They have received the Holy Spirit just as we have.” So he ordered that they be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ. Then they asked Peter to stay with them for a few days. -Acts 10:44-48

We take so much for granted today. Who we are. What we believe. The condition of our faith. The nature of God. But we are all supposed to be connected to these people and these events and most of all, though the Messiah, we are supposed to be connected to God. I was thinking about this piece of dialog between Captain Picard (Patrick Stewart) and Wesley Crusher (Wil Wheaton) in the Star Trek, The Next Generation episode Samaritan Snare:

Captain Jean-Luc Picard: There's no greater challenge than the study of philosophy.
Wesley Crusher: But William James won't be on my Starfleet exams.
Captain Jean-Luc Picard: The important things never will be. Anyone can be trained in the mechanics of piloting a starship.
Wesley Crusher: And Starfleet Academy...
Captain Jean-Luc Picard: Takes more. Open your mind to the past - art, history, philosophy. And all this may mean something.

We blog about so many things but in the end, just as Picard says to Wesley, it takes more. While we obsess over our own versions of "Starfleet exams" and "Starfleet academy", the important things aren't going to be on those "exams" (or in many cases, in those blogs). It takes more.

In our case, we must open our minds (and our hearts) to God, His Word, the Messiah, His Glory, His Honor, and the unimaginable opportunity we have been offered just to be a small part of it all.

Blogging creates the illusion that we're very important people in the greater scheme of things. Yet anyone can create a blog in just a few minutes and start publishing his or her words and "wisdom" into the blogosphere for any one to read. But in all our blogging and posting (and I'm just as guilty of this as anyone...probably more), does it matter so much what our opinions are or the concepts we're trying to convey? Are we missing the point?

When Moses had finished the work, the cloud covered the Tent of Meeting, and the Presence of the Lord filled the Tabernacle. Moses could not enter the Tent of Meeting, because the cloud had settled upon it and the Presence of the Lord filled the Tabernacle.

Aren't moments like these the real point? Isn't quietly sitting in the back of the synagogue, or in a corner in the court of the Gentiles at the Temple (for me) contemplating God and His awesomeness really what's supposed to be happening?

I hope that, blogging and commenting on blogs for six days of the week, that on the Shabbat, we can find a small, quiet shadow to visit and, standing before His Presence, we humbly realize truly who we are, and who He is and ask ourselves why we treat people who are sacred to God as profane.

The road is long and often, we travel in the dark, ignoring the light of the world. Look for the lamp to light the path.

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