Why Messianic Judaism?

I made a new friend this week and a conversation I had with her brought this topic to my mind. I’m thinking about explaining the rationale behind Messianic Judaism from several points of view. If you are Jewish and you attend a church, then maybe you’d like to know why Messianic Judaism should be an option for you. If you are a Christian leader and you sometimes have Jewish people in your church, maybe you would wonder why these Jewish people might go out from your church to join a Messianic synagogue. There are other points of view to consider as well, such as why should a Jewish person consider faith in Yeshua at all. That would be a topic for another post . . .

Why Messianic Judaism? Isn’t it a bad idea for Yeshua’s followers to be separating into groups? Shouldn’t we just all be together in one place that has a sort of neutral culture? Can’t Anglos, Hispanics, African-Americans, Jews, and so forth and so on, just all be in one place together?

Already, without even introducing Jewish issues, you can see from a cultural point of view that one-size-fits-all is a bad idea. I was reminded of this by a new friend who got some negative reactions by bringing some Hanukkah food (latkes with sour cream) to a Sunday School party at a Baptist church. One person said to the whole group, “I really don’t like Jewish food.” How interesting? Would anyone dare say something like that to a Hispanic or African-American about their ethnic fare?

The thing is, there is no “neutral” culture. Somebody is always being overlooked when you try to do a one-size-fits-all congregation. Here in America, many churches think white, Anglo-Saxon, Protestant forms of worship from either the 19th century or, if you’re lucky, from a more recent century, is the be-all end-all of church culture. Well, I got news for you . . . it ain’t.

Give yourself a little cultural experiment. If you’re an Anglo, visit a Hispanic church or a black church sometime. I highly recommend the experience of a black Baptist church. You may decide your white-bread worship is boring after you visit there!

So, just from a cultural standpoint alone, Messianic Judaism makes as much sense as Koreans congregating together and enjoying kimchee on a given Sunday. But there is more to Messianic Judaism than culture.

God made a covenant with Israel. And despite the protestations of church history, God has not terminated that covenant. Check your Bible and you will find that God still expects Jewish families to circumcise their sons on the eighth day. Only a twisted hermeneutic can deny this ongoing covenant obligation. For those whose theology can only come from the pen of Paul, note that Paul had Timothy circumcised and be sure to put that in your theological bag of tricks.

All this is to say, that God’s will is for Jews to remain Jews. It is not right for secularism to pull a Jewish person away from covenantal faithfulness. Neither is it fitting for faith in a Jewish Messiah to force Jews to convert to Gentilism. Don’t laugh. I’m dead serious. Most churches fully expect that Jews will convert to Gentilism. A ham sandwich at a church supper is a test of faith for the new Jewish “convert,” and necessary to prove they have thrown off all the burdens of their pre-Christian Judaism.

Now, we’re beginning to get to the crux of the matter, which is why Messianic Judaism is so vital and necessary. God’s plan is for Jews, especially those who follow Yeshua as Messiah, to remain Jews until the end of this age and beyond. You might find in your Bible certain hints that Jews will still be part of God’s plan in the last days. Maybe you’ve read Revelation 7 and 14 before.

Now, in order to pass on Jewish identity from parents to children, from generation to generation, it is necessary for parents to actually HAVE a Jewish identity.

Many will not like what I am going to say next: you cannot maintain a Jewish identity in a church.

“You’re just wrong about that,” some of you will protest. I know some Jews at my church and they are doing just fine.

Are they? More importantly, will their children and grandchildren be Jews?

The assured answer of history is no. Jewish Christian children grow up and marry Christians (or secular non-Jews if they depart from the faith). They rarely marry Jews. Jewish Christian children find their identity in church and in the non-Jewish culture of the church. They think of themselves less as Jews with each passing year. Then your children have children and they take this assimilation even farther.

In other words, if you are a Jew and you worship in a church, your children are not likely to even identify as Jews. Your grandchildren are almost certain not to.

Go back 3,500 years to the days of Moses. The ancestors of any Jewish person you know have been passed from parents to children for those entire 3,500 years. God’s plan is that Jewish identity will continue being passed down until the end of the age (and beyond).

Do you, Jewish parent, want to be the one to break that chain of tradition and covenant faithfulness? Your family line endured wars, massacres, and hard times, only to come to an end in your comfortable generation. How tragic.

Do you, Christian leader, want to encourage a Jewish family line to come to an end? Do you find it fitting that faith in a Jewish Messiah should spell doom for God’s plan to continue Israel? Ask yourself, what would Jesus do?

Why Messianic Judaism? I’ll tell you. It is in the book of Acts. Peter and James represented the leadership of the circumcision wing of the early movement. Paul represented the uncircumcision wing. Acts 15 completely assumes the ongoing distinction of the two branches of the one body of Messiah. Messianic Judaism today is bringing back the circumcision part of Messiah’s body. We are doing the work of Peter and James. We respect and fully relate to the uncircumcision wing, the church, which is the work of Paul. Let’s allow the body of Messiah to have all its expressions.

Why Messianic Judaism? Because it is God’s will for Jews to be faithful to the covenant with Abraham, if nothing else, and I would add to the covenant from Sinai as well.

The Days of Messiah

This is a little tidbit from my upcoming book, The World to Come (title tentative, due out March 2008 by Messianic Jewish Publishers at http://www.messianicjewish.net).

Basically this is very little of my writing, but is a summary of a wonderful list by the rabbis in Exodus Rabbah, a rabbinic, midrashic commentary on Exodus. Their list, as you can see, is drawn from scripture.
………………………….

The Days of Messiah are not the final days. There is yet an age to come after them. This is the opinion of part of the Christian world as well as the view of the Talmudic rabbis. The rabbis of Israel thought of the Days of Messiah as an agricultural paradise. They spoke of grapes so large, a man would keep just one in his house and draw thirty measures of wine from it. They spoke of grain and fruit growing much more rapidly than in this age. They even spoke of women bearing children daily!

In a rabbinic commentary on Exodus, the rabbis put their biblical genius to work figuring out ten things that will change in the Days of Messiah:

1. God will replace the sun as the light of this world (Isa. 60:19).
2. Healing waters will flow out from the temple in Jerusalem (Ezek. 47:9).
3. Fruit will grow every month (Ezek. 47:12).
4. Ruined cities will all be rebuilt and there will be no waste places (Ezek. 16:55).
5. Jerusalem will be rebuilt with sapphires (Isa. 54:11).
6. Nature will be at peace with no more killing (Isa. 11:7).
7. Israel will have a covenant with the wild beasts (Hos. 2:18).
8. There will be no weeping in the world (Isa. 65:19).
9. Death will cease (Isa. 25:8).
10. There will be joy without groaning (Isa. 35:10).
Exodus Rabbah 15:21

A Change at Messianic Jewish Musings

Shalom all:

I wish I could say I know all of you. Most of you I probably have never met. I thank you for taking some of your time to read the posts here at Messianic Jewish Musings.

I am making a change in the way I get feedback here on the blog. Up until now, I have allowed anyone to comment on any post on this blog. I have talked with others who know blogs and I discovered that quite a few blogs turn the comments off. For a number of reasons, this is what I plan to do starting with this post.

This does not mean you cannot send a comment to me. You can still do that and I hope some of you will. From time to time your comment may be something I decide to print in a post. Note: if you email me a comment, I reserve the right to post it unless you ask me not to.

Send all comments to DEREKBLOGGER@GMAIL.COM

My plan for the future of this blog is to post three times per week. I will try for Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, but all who know me well know that I am not great at sticking to plans!

Anyway, I just created the email address derekblogger@gmail.com and would love to have a quick shout-out from any friends reading so I can break in my new email address.

Thanks for reading and I do hope that I will share things on this blog that will stimulate your thinking about Judaism, Yeshua, the Bible, and how they all go together.

Derek Leman

A Guide for Jews: Finding a Messianic Synagogue

Much has been said on this blog and elsewhere about the confusing landscape of Messianic Judaism in its many forms. A wide variety of groups use the title Messianic Judaism. Some are quite weird, even disturbing. The majority are somewhere between clueless and decent. A few actually get it, that Messianic means promoting Yeshua-faith and Judaism means, well, Judaism. And we know Judaism is the Judaism of scripture and tradition, the Bible and the rabbis. No other definition will do.

So, with that in mind, I offer a guide to Jews who are seeking a Jewish home where Yeshua can be their Rebbe and where Jewish identity is respected. The following are my opinions. Feel free to write in and disagree.

1. If you do not live in a city with a decent Jewish population and you are a Jew, what were you thinking? If you live in a small town with no traditional synagogues and you see an advertisement for a Messianic Jewish congregation, beware! You simply have to live in a Jewish place. So pack your bags and forget about that little congregation in Booger Holler, Georgia. It just won’t work out.

2. If the “rabbi” of the congregation does not know Hebrew, try not to let the door hit you on the tukhes as you leave. A friend of mine recently attended such a congregation where the rabbi called the Holy Spirit the “roo-akh ka-kakesh.” Ouch, get outta there!

3. Does the congregation use the Siddur in a meaningful way? If you are from a religious background, you may desire a service like the schul you attended as a child. That mostly does not exist in Messianic Judaism. But hopefully you will find a place that understands the core prayers of the Siddur and incorporates them in worship, practice, and theology. Much more could and should be said about this. But as long as the service is somewhere north of the level of tradition in a Reform synagogue, you should be okay.

4. Does the rabbi know Judaism? What are the rabbi’s credentials? Is his education from a reputable organization? Ask about it. Check out the educational institution in question. If it seems like an unaccredited diploma mill, it probably is. Aside from credentials, does the rabbi know the difference between a rabbi and a rebbe and a rebbetzin? I know someone who was ejected from a congregation and forever banned when he made the leader look bad by asking just that question!

5. Watch out the for the top three Messianic Judaism look-alikes:

a. The Two-House or Ephraimite congregation. These Gentiles think that they are the lost tribes of Israel. Their evidence? They are drawn to Jewish things, thus they must be Israel! Don’t let their memory stick in your mind after you bolt for safety.

b. The Yah-Shuah people, also called the Sacred Name movement. They insist on calling HaShem by his name and they have some odd ideas about how to pronounce his name. Worse yet, even in the case of Yeshua, whose name is well-documented in the sources, they insist on calling him Yah-Shuah instead. If you know anything about Hebrew names, you know they are using a suffix as a prefix. These people can be scary.

c. The Hebrew Roots congregation. Of all the look-alikes, these folks are the least harmful. They are of the opinion that all of Yeshua’s followers (i.e., all the Christians) should adopt a Torah and rabbinic lifestyle. Their knowledge of Judaism is generally quite extensive and their practice is quite authentic. My feeling is that eventually these folks will convert and become Messianic Jews, but in the meantime they suffer from identity confusion and a negative opinion towards ordinary Christians and churches. I wouldn’t advise staying if you are Jewish. Even some Messianic congregations belonging to reputable organizations suffer from the Hebrew Roots confusion.

6. Watch out for Charismatic mayhem. In case you, as a Jew, have not yet been exposed to Charismatic Christianity, you should know that this is a broad term. Under this heading you will find everything from a mild overemphasis on miracles to absolute mania. I was just at a congregation where the leader declared the entire property a sick-free zone. This is a typical Charismatic move. There is such a hunger for miracles, the people profess faith in them while completely ignoring reality. You may hear people speaking in nonsense, repetitive syllables who believe they are praying in another language. You may see people fall backward on the floor as if fainting is spiritual. You may find leaders who call themselves apostles or prophets (beware!). So, as a Jew, you may wonder, what does Charismatic Christianity have to do with Messianic Judaism. I wish I could say nothing, but the truth is that many Messianic leaders came from such a background. I would not say you should have nothing to do with such a congregation. If it does very well on points 1-4, consider staying anyway. But look out for a leader who says he is a prophet or apostle.

7. I wish that qualifications 1-6 were not even necessary to mention. But having established whether the place is actually Jewish or not, then you get down to things you really should be looking for:

a. Are they able to teach you the Torah and tradition of Judaism? Will you learn something?

b. Are the people a loving community or a loose collection of factions tolerating one another just to hold a congregation together?

c. After you’ve been there a while, do people invite you over for Shabbat dinner or similar events? Do you feel included?

d. How in love with Yeshua are these people? Are they afraid to mention Yeshua too much? Do they seem to take Yeshua’s teachings about love, justice, serving the poor, and being disciples of the Master seriously?

This guide is far from perfect. But I hope it will help some of you. I know so many Jewish people who have been turned off in the past by so-called Messianic congregations. I know so many Jews who are in churches, where Yeshua is proclaimed, but where their Jewish identity is rotting on the vine. A Baptist or Episcopal church is not a place where you can raise your children Jewish. You need to find a solution. I write also for those Jews who are open to Yeshua but wouldn’t have a clue where to find a Jewish expression of his message. Finally, I write for a few who have abandoned Messianic congregations for the traditional synagogues. The outlook in Messianic Judaism is getting better. You just might find that a congregation exists in your area that fits these guidelines.

The Non-Normative Experiences of a Marginal Messianic Leader

Something Yaakov said got me thinking:

That being said… you did not in fact respond to all I discussed, namely the structural, organizational and MAJOR leadership chasm which exists in MJ – why is this? It seems noone in a position of leadership in MJ (I’m not referring to you) cares to address MAJOR structural and foundational elements essential for movement, development and growth.

I guess I didn’t realize it, but I, along with other up and coming rabbis, am expected to begin a life’s work of addressing this vacuum of leadership. That got me thinking about the question why. Yaakov wants to know why I haven’t done anything, why no one has done anything. Well, here are my rambling thoughts . . .

Six and a half years ago, I was nothing more than a dispensationalist Christian, a Christian who loves Israel and wants to see Jewish people coming to faith in Yeshua. I did not understand Judaism. I thought of it as a false religion, much like Luther did in the recent posts about Luther’s struggle.

I thought of Jewish traditions as a sort of window dressing to make our services “cool” and “Jewish relevant.” It was a big step for me when I learned how to chant Kaddish.

I came from a non-religious background, with no faith or God or scriptures in my home. My education as a spiritual leader started immediately after my turn to faith as an engineering student at age 19. I could have done worse than the school I attended, the Moody Bible Institute. It was a dispensationalist school. Dispensationalism is a variety of Christianity that loves Israel and sees Israel continuing as the Chosen People of God. That’s not bad, considering that most of Christendom rejects Israel’s place in God’s plan. A good friend recently heard in a Methodist pulpit, “They used to be God’s people, until the cross, and now we, the Christians, are God’s people.”

Anyway, back to that time six and a half years ago, when I started a little Messianic congregation from nothing. I didn’t know what I was doing. Thank God, I believed Israel had a place in God’s plan. But I knew little else. Judaism was foreign to me. So naturally I felt qualified to start a Messianic Jewish congregation!

I came into the UMJC (Union of Messianic Jewish Congregations, see umjc.net) kicking and screaming. These people were hostile to some things that I thought were central to Messianic Jewish life. I used to think standing on a street corner and handing out pamphlets was a Messianic sacrament. I proudly wore a “Jews for Jesus” shirt at my first UMJC conference. I thought one rabbi in particular was going to punch me!

I got to know a group of men I completely mistrusted. They turned things upside down for me. They seemed to have all the wrong values. And, to top all that off, they got up early and had a minyan (saying the morning prayers of Judaism) each morning. I thought they were showing off their ability with Hebrew and their knowledge of Judaism. I disdained them.

For some weird reason I stayed. I began to morph. Judaism, as I learned it, was not what I thought it was. The prayers of the Siddur converted me to Judaism. More and more I learned that Messianic Judaism was not Jewish Christianity, but a Judaism.

I learned two things, primarily from my UMJC colleagues (really they are all older and more feeble than I am, so I should not call them colleagues). I learned that Judaism is God’s way for Jewish people and cannot be ignored. I also learned that the various forms of Christianity are not to be despised.

You see there are many marginal “Messianic” voices out there who are anti-Church. They view Messianic Judaism as a purer form of religion and the church as a semi-pagan institution. I have met non-Jews who are Messianic because they feel the church has been corrupted by paganism. These people talk a lot about Constantine, and they are partially right about him, but they are filled with mythical notions of a conspiracy theory to turn all Christians into gibbering idol worshippers.

More importantly for this discussion, I learned about Judaism from my fellow UMJC leaders. I learned that Messianic Judaism must first and foremost be a home for Jews.

Some people, like Shalom Bayit and Yaakov, think Messianic Judaism has a vacuum of leadership, and that these leaders are doing far too little to make Messianic Judaism a home for Jews.

That is not my experience at all. I think the movement is changing rapidly. The movement is leaving some people behind.

These allegedly absent leaders taught me a lot.

It helps to understand how far Messianic Judaism has come.

Although I am a marginal case, a non-Jew who started a Messianic Jewish congregation, there are some ways that my experience is not all that marginal. Messianic Judaism has spent its first three decades in the confusion of its evangelical Christian roots. After three or so decades, Messianic Judaism, in some circles, is becoming a Judaism.

Some people cannot be patient with that change. Some people think that Messianic Jewish leaders should be ashamed. Some people think that guys like me are doing too little. We are busy helping our non-Jewish constituency and ignoring the Jews, for whom Messianic Judaism should be a home.

I know I personally have come a long way in six years. And the movement has come a long way in thirty years. Thirty years is not long in the lifespan of a movement just as six years is not long in a person’s development.

Am I doing anything to make Messianic Judaism a home for “simple Jews”?

Just this week a dear friend, who is Jewish and has been involved for years in church life, said to me, “I want you to teach me how to be Jewish. I never learned it from my Jewish family and I haven’t learned it in church.”

Little incidents like this are happening all over the place. Leaders like myself are continually working with Jews and non-Jews and representing God and tradition to the people.

I am not an optimist, as those who know me can readily attest. Yet I am optimistic about Messianic Judaism becoming a force within Judaism. I am optimistic that the remnant of Israel in the last days is growing in understanding to be the people God is calling them to be.

It is largely happening due to the visionary leadership of a small group of Messianic leaders.

Far from calling this a vacuum, I would call it an amazing turn-around in leadership. So some people will be left on the sidelines, complaining, while others are doing the work.

All I can say from my marginal experience as a Messianic congregational leader is wow. What an amazing change I have been through and look forward to in days ahead.

Matthew 1 and the Paradox of Incarnation

This is a piece I wrote some time ago, but it seemed fitting with our Christian friends thinking of the birth of Messiah this week.

Now the birth of Yeshua the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been betrothed to Joseph, before they came together she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit. And her husband Joseph, being a just man and unwilling to put her to shame, resolved to divorce her quietly. But as he considered these things, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, “Joseph, son of David, do not fear to take Mary as your wife, for that which is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you shall call his name Yeshua, for he will save his people from their sins.” All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet:
“Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son,
and they shall call his name Immanuel”
(which means, God with us). When Joseph woke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him: he took his wife, but knew her not until she had given birth to a son. And he called his name Jesus. –Matthew 1:18-25

The story behind Yeshua’s birth is full of human emotion and divine mystery. From Joseph’s quandary to the incarnation’s conundrum, there is more drama here than the terse narrative implies. The biblical writers, from Moses to biblical historians to the evangelists, wrote in a compact style, leaving gaps and ambiguities for the reader’s imagination to fill in. There is a power to this type of narrative that belies its alleged simplicity.
For instance, behind Joseph’s quandary of the scandal of a pregnant fiance lie the unusual customs of second temple marriage. Of these customs, we know a little from references in Hebrew Bible and the Gospels. Later rabbinic regulation likely reflects the same traditions, even if details may have changed by that time.
Malachi 2:14 suggests that part of the process was a declaration or agreement before witnesses. Another part of the process is seen in Matthew 25:1-13, a processional to the wedding feast. The process is delineated with clarity in the Mishnah tractate Ketubot. There are two ceremonies, erusin or betrothal and nissu’in or transferral, that were separated by a period of time.
At the erusin the agreement of marriage was made before witnesses. At nissu’in the groom transferred support of the bride from her parents to himself in a ceremony at the home of his parents. In the time in between, the woman was already considered the wife. This is reflected in Matthew 1:20, where the angel refers to Mary as Joseph’s wife, though they are in between erusin and nissu’in. Mishnah Ketubot 1:5 even suggests that consummating the marriage before nissu’in was permitted in Judea. Raymond Brown suggests that in Galilee the code was stricter and the bride was to be brought to the groom’s parents a virgin (The Birth of the Messiah, p.124).
Thus Joseph’s quandary. His wife, not yet his bride, was pregnant. In Galilee, this was definitely a problem. Yet Joseph was a man of hesed. He wished to spare Mary the shame though, as far as he knew, she had shamed him. In this one act of Joseph’s we see a kind of selflessness that makes us wonder about his character and background. Such righteousness is far from ordinary.
Yet Joseph’s quandary stands beside a deeper conundrum, the seeming irreconcilable contrast between the earthly and heavenly realities. The earthly reality was a teenage wife-to-be, bound by contract, who was in violation of the severest laws of the land. The heavenly reality is stated by Matthew: “she was found to be with child by the Holy Spirit.”
Other mothers had seen their wombs opened by God’s power. No mother had been found to be with child by the Holy Spirit and not my man. The teenage bride-to-be seemingly scandalized her betrothed, yet the heavenly reality was other: she bore God in the flesh. Just as he would always appear to be merely human, so Mary’s shame would appear to be real. Just as he would always be actually divine and human, so Mary’s glory would be for those who would see with faith and not just with the eyes.
So this story, poignant on a human level, is profound on the divine level. This is how the incarnation must be. The infinite cannot dwell in the finite without scandal and controversy. God is not so easily understood and much the less believed. Yet, like Joseph who showed hesed in a time of potential shame, so should we endure the shame of faith in our incarnate Messiah.

Fantasy vs. Reality: Luther’s Struggle vs. What Judaism Actually Believed, Part 2

Last time I introduced the idea that Luther misread his Bible. He thought he saw in the Judaism of Paul’s day a reflection of ideas from his own time. He thought of 2nd Temple Jews as legalistic Catholics from his time period. He did not understand either the Judaism of his own day or the Judaism of Paul’s time.

I have done a number of articles called “Fantasy vs. Reality.” In each case I am addressing a common misunderstanding and contrasting it with solid evidence for what was really going on. In this case, Luther’s reading was the fantasy. The reality is supplied by reading 2nd Temple Jewish literature and finding out what they actually believed. E.P. Sanders has done this quite well and his reading is widely accepted. Some dispute Sanders’ reading, but other major scholars like N.T. Wright and W.S. Campbell accept his work as the definitive reading of Judaism in Paul’s time.

Did the Jews of Paul’s day believe that they needed to keep Torah perfectly to earn a place in God’s kingdom? Were they working to build up merit?

Not exactly. First, they didn’t think so much about individual salvation. They thought about having a place in God’s covenant people. God would save his covenant people as a whole. Therefore, they didn’t worry so much about doing something to make themselves stand out in God’s mind as someone worthy of saving. They simply wanted to be counted in with Israel.

Second, they did not imagine that the standard was either perfection or even some rigorous program of Torah observance. The standard was not so difficult in their minds. They believed that all who followed the basic prescriptions of Torah (circumcision, Sabbath, etc.) were including themselves in Israel and this being saved along with all Israel.

Sanders calls this view covenantal nomism. It is the idea that God chose Israel by grace and that individuals can be included in that grace by belonging to Israel. They were in the covenant by grace (just being born a Jew) and they stayed in the covenant by obeying the Torah (that is what he means by nomism, with nomos meaning law). Obeying the Torah here does not mean perfect obedience that is so good you earn salvation by being perfect. Nor does obeying Torah imply that sins cancel a person’s place in God’s salvation. Second Temple Judaism firmly believed in God’s forgiveness. Torah obedience meant keeping the identity markers of Israel, like circumcision and Sabbath, in order to belong to the covenant people.

There were three main platforms to this Judaistic view of God’s plan for salvation:
1. The election or choosing of Israel by grace.
2. The gift of the Torah and Israel’s obligation to follow it.
3. Reward and punishment in this world and in the World to Come.

Luther’s opponents nullified grace. They encouraged a system of merit. By contrast, Paul’s colleagues in Judaism believed firmly in grace. This is what many modern readers of the New Testament fail to understand.

So, am I saying that the Judaism of Paul’s day had it right?

No, I am not. The Judaism of Paul’s day was prone to an error of presumption. I think the same error plagues modern Christendom. We presume that our ongoing relationship with God is not crucial believing that we have already arrived.

I think the best critique I have seen of covenantal nomism came from John the Baptizer. Addressing a group of Pharisees who came to judge whether John’s preaching was valid or not, John said to them:

And do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father,’ for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children for Abraham. Even now the axe is laid to the root of the trees. Every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. I baptize you with water for repentance, but he who is coming after me is mightier than I, whose sandals I am not worthy to carry. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire. –Matthew 3:9-11

In other words, John told them God’s standard was a little higher than they imagined. They did not have automatic salvation by belonging to Israel. That is why John came preaching repentance. It wasn’t the identity markers of Israel (circumcision, Sabbath, temple) that saved them. They needed to actually walk with God, living under his kingship.

I would call the view of Paul and the apostles COVENANT FIDEISM, being in the covenant by faith in the God who made the covenant and living out the covenant by faith. Covenant keeping without faith is an empty thing.

The way people enter God’s covenant is by believing in it and the God who made it. To stay in the covenant requires a life of continuing faith.

You might ask, “Well, didn’t those religious leaders who approached John have such faith? After all, they believed in God enough to keep his Torah.”

I believe John would respond by saying that their faith was in the wrong object. Their faith was in their own status as Jews rather than in God’s promises and calling.

How can I say that their faith was deficient? How can I say that their faith was lacking?

I can say that because when God came to lead his people those leaders who confronted John did not follow. They believed they had already received it. They had it already. They didn’t need to follow any prophet calling for repentance. They believed they were right already.

They were not responsive to God’s new call. Therefore, their faith, though allegedly in God’s covenant, was really in their own worthiness.

When Paul speaks in Romans 3:21 about a righteousness of God manifested not by works of Torah, this is what he means. He means a righteousness that is not based on status, but in ongoing faith and responsiveness to God.

The fantasy of Luther is that Jews were like legalistic Catholics, that they were like the followers of Pelagius in the days of Augustine. He erroneously imagined that Paul’s words were in opposition to legalism: a system of self-merit. This led Luther to distort the balance of Law and Grace. Evangelical Christians are still plagued with this problem. In contemporary evangelicalism, there is a struggle to find any reason at all to do good works or to be obedient. Salvation is so divorced from good works and obedience that contemporary Christians often fail to attain to them. After all, why worry about goodness when God has already declared you perfect.

Oops! That sounds like the very Jewish leaders John the Baptizer repudiated. Ironic isn’t it. The sin of presumption is still around. Paul would be against modern Christian presumption every bit as much as ancient Jewish presumption.

The reality is that Paul’s message and the message of the New Testament is a call for people to believe in and be responsive to God. It does involve obedience to commandments. It does mean more than mental assent to a belief. It’s a covenant, not a get-out-of-hell free card. And covenant means an ongoing life of faith and faithfulness.

Fantasy vs. Reality: Luther’s Struggle vs. What Judaism Actually Believed

One of the great errors and misunderstandings the typical Christian reader, including pastors, have of Paul’s writings is an error that has passed down since the time of Luther. Luther found in Paul’s writings an echo of his own theological opponents. He read Paul in light of his own situation and thought he found there an exact correlation.

Haven’t we all done that? We read in the Bible about enemies and problems or we read about promises and we sometimes see specific references to our own situation there. I’ve heard people claim that their parents were definitely going to put their faith in Yeshua based on Acts 16:31. We could find countless examples.

Luther had his own struggles as an Augustinian monk. He had been convinced by his colleagues and the religious climate of his order that he could only be saved if he merited it by his obedience and repentance. He was reportedly an austere monk, flagellating himself and denying all pleasure, hoping that by extreme sacrifice he might merit a place in God’s love. God was a severe schoolmaster and Luther his whipping boy.

He also famously took issue with those who were selling indulgences. By donating to the building of great cathedrals, supposedly the donors would shave centuries off their expected time in purgatory. Purgatory is the idea that most people will need to go to a place like hell for a little while to pay for their sins before being accepted into heaven. The church in Luther’s day claimed that it had stored up the merit of Christ and various saints in a sort of bank and that they had the authority to dole that merit out to those who purchased indulgences. (Church history buffs, correct me if I have erred in these descriptions.)

So when Luther began to see through these deceptions and errors, he found in his reading of Paul (and Augustine) the exact kinds of issues he was facing. Paul spoke of a righteousness of God manifested apart from the law (Rom. 3:21). Luther found in all this an idea of a righteousness that God gives to believers in Yeshua as a gift: imputed righteousness. The righteousness of law, he saw as the kind of path he had been pursuing as a monk. The law of Judaism, he determined, was about working very hard to measure up and earn salvation.

Luther also was aided in his thinking by Augustine’s writings against the Pelagians, the followers of a British monk named Pelagius. Pelagius did not believe we were born in sin or that our human natures were corrupted and unable to do good. He believed that it was possible to become perfectly righteous. This, in fact, was what God required.

Luther remembered his struggles with sin in his little monastic cell. He remembered trying to purge himself with a leather whip, resisting sin to the point of bloodshed.

As he read Paul’s critique of the law, Luther thought he found the perfect analogy in Judaism to his own struggles with a form of Catholic monasticism. The Jews were like Pelagius. Paul was like Luther, one who came out from within a corrupt movement and reformed it.

It’s not hard to see Luther’s reading of Paul and the law as a viable possibility. I saw it that was myself for years. I continue when reading Paul to force myself to see Paul speaking about Judaism as I know it to be and not the kind of Judaism I learned about in Bible college.

There is the Judaism of fantasy and the Judaism of reality. The Judaism of fantasy is a system of merit devoid of grace. The Judaism of my Bible college days is a system in which naïve people imagined that they were able to be perfectly righteous in keeping the Torah. Jesus came along, I was told, to show them they couldn’t do it. They should throw in the towel and become righteous by faith. That is, if they would believe in Yeshual, God would count them righteous without keeping the law.

As I said, it is not hard to read Paul and see this reading as legitimate. Much of what Paul says does seem to fit this theory of Judaism. Let me share a few examples. As you read these verses, imagine Judaism as a system of keeping laws to earn salvation. It’s easy if you try:

But now the righteousness of God has been manifested apart from the law (Rom. 3:21).
You are not under law, but under grace (Rom. 6:14).
Messiah is the end of the law for righteousness for everyone who believes (Rom. 10:4).
Messiah redeemed us from the curse of the law (Gal. 3:13).
If you are led by the Spirit, you are not under the law (Gal. 5:18).

So, was Luther right? Was Judaism in Paul’s day a sort of Pelagianism? Would a person need to perfectly keep the Torah to earn God’s love? Was Paul setting people free from a system of failure, hypocrisy, and self-torment?

Wait until tomorrow and we’ll see . . .

Post-Israel Experience Musings

I’m listening to “Streets of Jerusalem,” by the Moshav Band as I write this. I can identify with the singer’s melancholy. He writes of having to leave his home in Jerusalem to come to America. Jerusalem may not be my current or former home, but these lyrics feel as though written for me too:

I walk the streets of Jerusalem. My head is bowed.
Can’t let you go . . . can’t let you go . . . can’t let you go, now.
You’re somewhere east of Eden.
I’m an exile myself.
Still it’s your touch I long for, more than anything else.
. . . Knowing that I have to let you go is the cruelest part.

I did many things in the land. I followed in the sandal steps of Messiah. I saw places he touched and I was touched in return. I imagined him there in many of the places. Some of them almost look the same as they did 2,000 years ago.

I walked up the steps to Caiphas’ house, the high priest who had Yeshua crucified. He walked up those same steps, with his arms bound and with soldiers prodding him painfully on. I stood in Caiphas’ basement, the likely place Yeshua spent the night before that fateful day when heaven and earth turned their eyes from him in disgust. I imagined the lonely despondency of that great night.

I prayed in the garden on the Mount of Olives that has to at least be near to the one Yeshua prayed in the night before his cruel treatment at the hands of men and his exposure to the wrath of God. My prayer was not as filled with apprehension as his must have been, but I could imagine it. I could see where the Antonia fortress once stood. He could see it as he prayed.

I recited Shema in the fifth century synagogue in Capernaum. It’s built on the foundations of the synagogue Yeshua once taught in. I looked down on a home in Capernaum thought to be Peter’s house. Jews and Messianic Jews lived together in Capernaum, perhaps in harmony for some time.

I spoke about faith to an archeologist who had a unique way of writing Yeshua off as an overrated political revolutionary. I pointed out a problem with that reductionist view of Yeshua: our sources for Yeshua’s life indicate that he believed his death would have a meaning. He said, “That stuff was added later by the church.” I told him that this theory simply wouldn’t do. Parables of the son of the king dying were too much a part of Yeshua’s teaching to ignore or imagine that they came from a later pen. In fact, some of those parables are so profound that I’d be in awe of any teacher who could write them. I can only imagine Yeshua doing so, since they have an edge that you rarely or never find in later church writings.

I saw the pavement stones where Roman soldiers would play games in the Praetorium. They played games with Yeshua. They played a game of “Hail the King” and even gambled for his clothes. Those soldiers were pretty used to mangling human bodies and witnessing torments that hell would shudder to hear. Their callousness is a contrast to Yeshua’s staggering humility when under the pressure of limitless pain: “Father, forgive them, they don’t know what they are doing.”

I went both to the Holy Sepulchre, where Yeshua likely died and rose, and to the Garden Tomb, a site which has been preserved and looks like the kind of hill he died on and tomb he rose from. I saw Christians from unknown places in the world kissing the stone where many say his body was laid. I could smell the myrrh, the fragrant oil poured there daily for hundreds of years by mourners still adoring the site of Yeshua’s agony and triumph.

I spoke to an old friend whose faith is waning. He sees these things so regularly they come to mean little to him. He is not in community with others who follow Yeshua’s footsteps. In the place of such extraordinary beauty and grace, he is becoming perhaps a doubter.

I walked the streets of Jerusalem. My head was bowed. I can’t let her go. Here Messiah walked and was rejected. Here he taught and many believed, but many others plotted his death. Here he admitted to being Messiah but overturned every expectation of what that meant.

He was the son of the vineyard owner. The vineyard owner sent him to the wicked tenants who kept killing his messengers. They weren’t giving the vineyard owner his rightful share in the proceeds. They thought to take the vineyard for themselves. It is the human way. “They will respect my son,” said the vineyard owner. But they didn’t. They killed him too. (cf. Matt 21:33-41).

He was the son of the king. The king threw a marriage feast for him. He invited all to come, but they would not come. So he sent out for the lame ones and the poor, and they came. They came both bad and good. The king walked among the guests and found some not wearing wedding garments. The king threw them out, saying, “Many are called, few are chosen.” (cf. Matt 22:2-14)

I don’t see how my new archeologist friend can be blind to what seems so obvious to me. He asked for some good scholarship to read on the New Testament and I shared some titles with him. Yeshua is written all over Jerusalem. I hope my old Israeli friend can see that too. His waning faith saddens me. Mine was increased, as it is every year when I visit this place.

I walked the streets of Jerusalem. My head is bowed. I can’t let her go.

Live From Israel #4

“If I forget you, O Jerusalem, may my right hand forget its skill, may my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth,” said the psalmist in 137. I’m sitting at the South Wall excavation area near the temple mount in Jerusalem. I hear the Muslim call to prayer as Friday noon approaches. I am looking at stones on the walls, some of them Herodian, which means from Yeshua’s time. Not far from me is a large pile of massive stones right where the Romans threw them in 70 C.E.

As we came up to Jerusalem from Bethlehem yesterday, I remembered Jerusalem. In a way, I had forgotten her. Even after entering Israel, I was in the north. Even from that proximity I could forget her.

I did not feel it–the elation, the joy, the sense of rightness that often comes to me in Israel. I didn’t feel it until we began our ascent.

Then we read and sang psalms of ascent. Then I enjoyed a familiar pleasure from my many tours here. When we ascend to Jerusalem, the driver usually plays a Christian gospel song. It is such a powerful experience for me I sometimes here it in my dreams: “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, hark how the angels sing, ‘Hosanna in the highest, hosanna to your king.’”

In a way, the world has forgotten about Jerusalem. The muzzin’s wailing call for all the world to bow to Islam’s god gives the lie to this city’s status. At least one of the Muslim’s praying on Jerusalem’s temple mount right now is a dear friend of mine. Yet still, they should not be praying to Allah from up there.

David bought that temple mount. Solomon built on it. It is Mt. Zion, not the place of Allah.

The muzzin’s wail is testimony to the failed liberal policy of Israel’s secular and left-wing government. It has been forty years since the fateful decision to allow the Muslims to keep ruling on God’s holy mountain. That sacrifice of appeasement has not bought a moment’s peace.

Still, as I ponder this from just below the prostrating crowd, I feel a potential in Jerusalem. Those Muslim prayers will one day be changed. People will sit in these courtyards and hear Levitical choirs, silver trumpets, harps, and lyres. There will be dancing in Zion. Arabs will be here too, not to bow to Allah, but as children of Adonai. They will be joined by all nations coming here to adore Israel’s God.

And there will be one king, Yeshua.

And so, I sit in beautiful but flawed Jerusalem. Its beauty already makes me weep each time I have to leave. How will Messiah improve it? This is what stirs me. Messianic Jerusalem is coming and for now I am content to sit in its mere shadow.

Live From Israel #3

Today we are in Nazareth, a city of Arab Christians. Nazareth is crowded and dirty. It is unappealing. The traditional sites are uninteresting to me because nothing of Yeshua’s time remains.

Some of the Christians here have put together a biblical village experience. That is where we come. Here we get a sense of daily life in Yeshua’s time.

My thoughts are carried to a subject not immediately apparent to this location. My thoughts are on reason versus faith, how we know history and how we believe the sacred story. Nazareth represents reason and Bethlehem faith.

I say this because historians are apt to say that Yeshua did live in Nazareth but that the Bethlehem birth story is mythical. History derived by reason will at times conclude that a Nazarene man, whom others saw as Messiah, needed a fabricated Bethlehem story to legitimize his messiahship.

In A Marginal Jew, historian and person of faith, John Meier, talks about the separation between history and faith. If I understand him correctly, he is saying that history is limited to what we surmise by evidence. Faith includes what we believe for other reasons, in this case belief in an inspired text.

So, Nazareth is history and Bethlehem faith. Why? Because our historical sources, the gospels, say Yeshua grew up in Nazareth. But they also say he was born in Bethlehem, so why is that more to be doubted by reason?

There are several reasons. First, Matthew and Luke’s accounts are hard to match up. Luke doesn’t mention Yeshua’s sojourn into Egypt. Maybe these are variant traditions that can only doubtfully be harmonized.

Second, Luke mentions a census as the reason Joseph and Mary came to Bethlehem. Yet other historical sources place the census at a different time. Luke’s account cannot be confirmed by other sources.

Third, Bethlehem is relegated to the ahistorical ash heap for a more basic reason: naturalism or rationism, the persistent modern aversion to any cause not explainable by natural causation. Bethlehem is the place predicted for Messiah. It fits too neatly and arouses suspicions of a contrived story. It is the place of the virgin birth, a story outside the realm of nature.

Yet, as I see it here in Nazareth, we should be more skeptical of rationalism than of faith. Maybe prophecies really do come true. Maybe our reason has bigger limits than we admit. After all, if our minds weren’t made by God, if they’re simply molecules without a purpose, why trust them? Random molecules hardly inspire confidence. I rather prefer prophecy.

I choose faith and history. When they can’t be harmonized, I suspend judgment, but I don’t stop believing. I choose Nazareth and Bethlehem. And somehow this doesn’t see at all naïve.

Live From Israel #2

I’m standing in the church built with a glass floor over an ancient house in Capernaum. The house was re-used as a fifth century church. Graffiti was found here, a Christian fish symbol. From early on this was thought to be the home of Peter. Even if the tradition was inaccurate, this was the village of Peter. It was also the home of Yeshua during the active years we read about.

Being here has brought me to a realization. I have under-valued Peter. The Protestant tradition has paid him little attention in the large shadow of Paul. I looked at some of Peter’s words today, words of a genius I need to discover.

There is the part of his famous Shavuot sermon: “Men of Israel, hear these words: Yeshua of Nazareth, a man attested to you by God with mighty works . . . Delivered up according to the foreknowledge and plan of God, crucified and killed by the hands of lawless men” (Acts 2:22-23).

How did Peter grasp the mystery of divine plan and human cause all at once? Great minds ponder such things.

Or later he says: “For David did not ascend into the heavens, but he himself says, ‘The Lord said to my Lord, Sit at my right hand till I make your enemies a footstool for your feet.’ (Acts 2:34).

Peter brilliantly used an argument he learned from his master. In Psalm 110, two Lords are mentioned. One is Israel’s God. Who is the other? The one greater than David must be Messiah.

Then there are words from a letter Peter wrote, 1 Peter 1:22-25. He quotes Isaiah about a word of the Lord. He identifies the word Isaiah spoke about. It is the word of the crucified and risen Messiah. That word is an imperishable seed. How rich is that thought: the word Isaiah spoke of, realized in Yeshua and the poetic image of a seed that cannot be destroyed.

The fisherman from this little Capernaum became a great writer and thinker. He must have been changed by his master. He represents to me the ordinary man captivated and changed by the wonder of Yeshua. If Peter, why not us?

Derek

Live From Israel

Sitting here in the Roman theater at Caesarea, I am thinking of all the history here. Herod built this harbor using divers to sink large stones. Peter came here to find Cornelius to bring the news of Yeshua to him. Paul was on trial here before Herod Agrippa. In the fourth century there was a bishop here named Eusebius. His history is the main source of our knowledge of early Christian centuries.

Of all these happenings, it is the story of Peter and Cornelius in Acts 10 and 11 that has me pondering in awe. This Roman town in Israel seems the ideal place for the first Roman God-fearer to join the Yeshua movement.

This is where the non-Jews first came into the fold. Who knew what tragedy this would lead to for Jews? Eusebius represents the loss of love for Israel represented by Cornelius, his predecessor. By the time of Eusebius, love for the Jewish fathers was rare. Trying to find their place in God’s plan, the Christians imagined they replaced the Jews.

Still, even humanity’s greatest sins are all to be redeemed by the God of Israel. In the last of the last days, John pictured two groups in parallel. First, he saw 144,000, the vanguard of Israel. Then he saw a countless multitude of non-Jews waving palm branches and thus keeping Tabernacles per Zechariah 14:16.

The Jews and the Christians together before the end. And it all started here, in Caesarea.

Derek