So I stand perched on the brink of a journey. A journey called a master’s thesis. With the High Holy Days wrapped up, it’s high time for me to knuckle down and get this thing going. The subject of my thesis is Jewish-Christian relations from roughly the Renaissance era to the present day.

As you probably know, I am a Church History major. Among the many interesting subjects that attracted me to this degree program, Jewish-Christian relations was probably the most appealing to me. It’s pretty much common knowledge that Christians and Jews haven’t had the best “go of it” throughout the 2000 years of their history together. It’s partly this fact drives me the most. What passes for “common knowledge” in this subject  area is quite lop-sided, focusing solely on the Christian persecution of the Jewish people. PLEASE HEAR ME: I, probably more than most, know of the atrocities that so-called “Christians” have afflicted upon the Jewish people. I have no intention to minimize those events or ignore them as if they didn’t occur. They did occur, and frequently. But, this isn’t all of the story. Around almost every corner of Jewish-Christian relations, there is a nuance. Like many of our personal relationships, Jewish-Christian relations is…well…complicated. “Love/hate” doesn’t even really begin to describe it.

One such example of this highly complex and paradoxical relationship is the formation of the Jewish ghettos. In 1516 (the year before Martin Luther nailed his 95 Thesis to the door), the very first Jewish ghetto was created in Venice. A ghetto was simply a section of town that all the Jews were cornered off into and literally walled into. Some entry in and out of the walls was allowed, but not much. Think of the Berlin Wall and Eastern Germany of the Cold War Era as an example of a very large ghetto.

After the creation of this first ghetto, the idea caught on quick. In 1555, Pope Paul the IV order the first ghetto created in Rome. This “Age of the Ghetto” lasted for over 200 years. The were destroyed in 1796 thanks to Napoleon’s Italian army. These ghettos stood for a longer period of time than the slavery in Egypt (according to Rashi’s reckoning).

Here’s the irony. First, it should be noted that most Jews living in Italy at the time were Sephardic refugees from Spain. In 1492, when Columbus sailed the ocean blue, the Jews were also kicked out of Spain too. Some went to Portugal for a short time, only to be forced south to North Africa. Others went to Rome where they were welcomed by the Pope at the time. The Sephardim flourished in Italy, concurrent with the beginnings of the Renaissance. Obviously, at the time, Jews were accepted by Italian Christians. See the irony? In order to escape the Spanish Inquisition and wrath of the Spanish monarchs, many Jews found refuge with the Pope in Rome!

But obviously, this era did not last, and the mid-sixteenth century saw Jews rounded up into ghettos. For over two-hundred years, thousands of Jews lived within the walls of the Roman ghettos.

But wait, the irony doesn’t end there. With the emancipation of the Jews from the ghettos by Napoleon, there came another threat, one that in some ways was much more subversive: assimilation. This period marked the decline of the Roman Catholic Church’s influence over Europe and the increased secularization of cultural life. Gradually, people identified as part of a nation-state than with a monarch or religion.

This attitude seriously challenged Jewish identity. Jewish identity had always been bound to Torah and Judaism. But with the relegation of religion to a second-class seat, one was expected to remove one’s markers of distinction as a Protestant, Catholic, or Jew to be a good German, Frenchman, or Italian.

Herein lies the irony. Ghettos, though deplorable and a serious transgression on those who enacted these statutes, had a positive outcome, namely preserving Jewish identity. But once Jews were freed from the ghettos (obviously a great and wonderful thing to be celebrated), they then faced a society that pressured them to assimilate and cease being Jewish.  If not all together, then at least overtly.

This is merely one example. I think I have a lot of work ahead of me. So, I’m going to stop blogging and get to reading.

Update: A slightly expanded version of this blog has now been posted on the FFOZ blogs. Click here to see it.

Today I’m starting to put up the sukkah. I have a very special affection for the Festival of Sukkot. Not only is it now fall, my favorite season, but it’s a festival that’s basically all about hanging out. It is also a festival that attracts many believers to Messianic Judaism. Perhaps this is because of the role Sukkot will play in the Messianic Age (Zech. 14).

Sukkot is yet another example of the differences the Torah makes between those obligated and those not obligated

You shall dwell in booths for seven days. All native Israelites shall dwell in booths. (Lev. 23:42, emphasis mine)

There you have it. It’s plain as day. Only the native, physical descendants of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob are obligated by Torah to dwell in a sukkah for seven days (According to the rule of the sages, it is also only obligated for males, since it is time bound). And according to the sages, dwelling requires that one eat, drink, and live in the sukkah, making the sukkah a frequented place, and one’s home an occasional place. According to many opinions, this also includes sleeping, but others dispute this. Sleeping in the sukkah is more a matter of custom.

So does this mean that I, a Gentile, won’t be celebrating Sukkot? By no means! Obviously, I am spending time, money, and effort to put up a sukkah, purchase a lulav and etrog, buy extra special food, and drive quite a distance to go visit friends (who are also Gentile) during the feast.

This is just an illustration to show that despite changes in language regarding obligation, FFOZ’s modified One Law stance actually makes little practical difference. There is still immense blessing and worth in observing the Torah beyond obligation. And in reality, I would wager that most Messianic Gentiles came to Torah in this way. Not out of obligation, guilt, or out of a sense that we were sinning. But we experienced first hand the blessing that comes from God’s Torah.

If we as a movement would reclaim the joy we once felt for God’s Torah, other Christians will inevitably be drawn to it. Let us put off harsh words, condemnation, and unfair rhetoric against those who have not tasted of the feasts. God’s Torah can speak for itself. As it frequently said, and proves time and again to be true, our actions speak louder than words.

So keep the feast, hang out, and let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.

Rosh Hashanah in Hudson was truly a blessing. Among the many things Hashem impressed upon me was the critical task we have in carrying out our Messiah Yeshua’s work and ministry despite hardship. I also learned from D. Thomas Lancaster about the critical issues currently facing FFOZ in light of their modification of the typical “One-Law” teaching regarding Gentile believers’ relationship to the Torah. These two things learned are not unrelated.

Since there are many angry voices out there on the blogosphere and Facebook, I want to publically (and briefly) state I fully stand behind FFOZ’s “new” position. It’s really not new, as it was the ministry’s position circa the “Take Hold” era, which was a period of huge growth for FFOZ as a ministry. It was the generous language of Take Hold that convinced me of the relevance of Torah so many years ago.

But it seems that many of today’s One-Law Gentile Messianics are no longer satisfied with the language of graciousness or of choice. Like the dissenting voices at the Jerusalem Council, they are more than willing to place a yoke upon the necks of their fellow believers, or at least be able to point the finger at the Church for eating pork and worshiping on Sunday. Sure, we give our One Law gloss that the council expected Gentiles to start with the four requirements and gradually grow in their knowledge of Torah while attending synagogue. But how many congregations actually follow this model? When people join our communities, do we actually allow them the grace to take Torah upon themselves at their own pace (one must acknowledge that the council placed no maximum time limit on adopting Torah)? Or does peer-pressure and uniformity demand a more speedy adoption of the full yoke?

The aspect of this debate that I find most disheartening is the fact that FFOZ is not forcing anyone to cast of any yoke that has been freely taken. And yet, people still attack FFOZ for teaching lies. It is not as though FFOZ is sponsoring a hog roast next week.

As for me, I find FFOZ’s clarified position to more fully represent true Apostolic Teaching on the matter. It is more honest with Paul and Acts. It is more in line with historic Christian teaching, historic Jewish teaching, and even historic Messianic Jewish teaching. It accords more with ancient Jewish-Christian documents such as the Didache, the Apostolic Constitutions, and what we know of Nazarene Jewish teachings as reported in the Ante-Nicene Fathers. It aligns with the best and most influential Jewish Roots scholarship of the last century, works that are consistently sold at Messianic conferences and are referenced in Messianic teachings. While this does not prove the truthfulness of FFOZ’s stance, it does lend more support and credibility to it. To think that 21st century Messianic Gentiles are the first ones to land on this truth since the Apostles is near untenable.

In this time of controversy, may we all be filled with a spirit of humility and grace as we wrestle with the truth of God’s Word and the Apostolic Teaching. Let us fix our eyes upon Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith. May we reexamine our own lives and figure out why it truly is that we (I am speaking to you Gentiles) truly keep God’s mitzvot. Out of duty, or out of love ?

Cooler weather is almost here. I can feel it in the air. Here in Illinois, the corn is starting to ripen and dry out. This week in Morton, the annual Pumpkin Festival begins tonight. Fall, and hence Rosh Hashanah and the rest High Holy Days are approaching. It is truly my favorite time of the year.

Many readers of my blog know the value and respect I accord to Christian tradition, whether Roman Catholic, Orthodox, or Protestant. These traditions, though different from Judaism, have deep roots in the traditions of Israel. This is easily seen during times such as Holy Week and Pascha/Easter. Though Christianity decided to date Passover differently from Judaism (albeit, years before Hillel II standardized the Jewish calendar), the Jewish roots of Christian Pascha can be easily detected.

But not so with the fall festivals. Christian tradition has no overt counterparts to Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, or Sukkot. High Church Christianity does celebrate the Feast of the Holy Cross in the fall, and observes “ember day” fasts in the fall. Some have suggested these as Christian counterparts to the Jewish High Holy Days, but I have not examined the arguments to sufficiently make a case for them.

In Messianic Judaism, the fall festivals have become very eschatologically focused, with the themes of Messiah’s return, the Judgement, and the establishment of the Kingdom largely in view. In so doing, I think Messianic Judaism has truly developed perhaps their most profound and unique contribution. Traditional Judaism does not primarily view the High Holy Days as picturing the advent of Messiah. The majority opinion in Judaism places that at Passover. Instead, Judaism primarily focuses on the individual’s status before God (and their relationship to one another) during the High Holy Days. While this idea isn’t absent from Messianic Judaism, eschatology is the primary focus.

So in this way, I think Messianic Judaism has stumbled upon something that the both Christianity and Judaism have missed in a big way. Judaism, simply based on the fact that they have not considered Yeshua as the Messiah nor studied the “High Holy Days” imagery of the New Testament. And Christianity, because they have not considered the fall festival context of many texts dealing with the return of Yeshua.

As Messianic Judaism continues to learn from Judaism and Christianity, may we also remember that we have some good things to teach our brethren as well.

May you have a blessed 5770!

Maranatha!

As a sort of after thought on Seth’s post regarding Sukkot-mas and the date of Jesus’ birth, here are some historical sources I found that reference the location of Jesus’ birth.

The readers of this blog are likely familiar with the well known song “Eliyahu HaNavi” (Elijah the Prophet) that is typically sung at the end of the Passover seder and by some at the conclusion of the Sabbath. The first line of the song is as follows: ”Elijah the Prophet, Elijah the Tishbite, Elijah the Giladite, May he soon come to us with Messiah the Son of David.”

Permit me to share some thoughts I was musing over earlier this morning.  What role was Elijah expected to play when he preceded the coming of the Messiah? Has Elijah already come? Why do we, as believers in Jesus Christ, sing this song?

We find the expected role of Elijah in the last book of the Prophets, Malachi ch. 3 which begins, “See, I am sending my messenger to prepare the way before me, and the Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to his temple” (NRSV). The remainder of the chapter goes on to speak of the coming of the Messiah as one who “is like a refiner’s fire and like fullers’ soap” or to use the words of John the Baptist, “His winnowing-fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing-floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” The prophet Malachi concludes his words with the verse “Lo, I will send you the prophet Elijah before the great and terrible day of the Lord comes. He will turn the hearts of parents to their children and the hearts of children to their parents, so that I will not come and strike the land with a curse.”

Based on Malachi’s words Elijah was supposed to bring the hearts of the people back to God and between their fellowman as well as preparing the people for the coming of the Lord. Within a short amount of time after Malachi uttered these words we find Jesus saying of John the Baptist, “This is the one about whom it is written, ‘See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way before you’” quoting from the same chapter of Malachi that begins speaking of the coming of Elijah, the messenger of God. But was John the Baptist the Elijah spoken of by Malachi?

Jesus says, “if you are willing to accept it, he is Elijah who is to come. Let anyone with ears listen!” (Matthew 11:14-15) and in Luke 7 Jesus says that John is the one of whom the prophet is speaking. In Mark 9:12 Jesus says, “But I tell you that Elijah has come, and they did to him whatever they pleased, as it is written about him.” But what about John the Baptist’s reply in regards the question by the Jews as to whether he is Elijah in John 1:21 where John says, “I am not”?

The questioners were asking if John was Elijah himself but he was not. Rather, John had the spirit and power of Elijah. This is similar to the name David being used in the prophets for the Messiah but when he actually came His name was not David. Rather, He came from David’s line. The same is true here of John the Baptist: God was saying that a prophet like Elijah was going to come. Therefore, God called this prophet that would arise by the name Elijah in the book of Malachi but when he actually came he was called John.

We can see that John the Baptist performed his role in the spirit and power of Elijah by returning the people’s hearts to a right place through his teaching of repentance and he performed his role as the one who would prepare the way for the coming of the Messiah.

In light of the above, why sing “Eliyahu HaNavi” after a Passover seder or at the conclusion of the Sabbath? Is it because it’s the ‘kosher’ thing to do so to speak? Would omitting the song at the end of the Sabbath and Passover seder somehow cast doubt in the belief of the words of Malachi or somehow distance us from the rest of the Jewish world (as if belief in Jesus hasn’t already done a good job of that!)? A song which begs God to send us Elijah seems to ignore the fact that Jesus said Elijah has already come.

Why not do as the Rev. Paul Levertoff has done with part of the Amidah prayer in the service which reads at the end of the first blessing, “who, in love, brings a redeemer” to which he changed the letter mem in the word u’mei’vi to the letter hey which then allows the line to be translated, “who in love hast brought a Redeemer” (translation from Levertoff’s “Meal of the Holy King”).

I have never felt comfortable singing this song about the coming of Elijah simply because of the words of our Lord. Why do I want to sing a song that speaks of my longing for a prophet whom our Lord says has already come?

These are the thoughts I had this morning. Do with them what you will.

JX Blog is back.

I kinda checked out from the whole virtual realm for a while. Facebook, email, blogosphere, etc. Sometimes I just get to a certain point where reading, commenting, emailing, and maintaining a blog becomes way too time consuming.

Forgive the crude analogy, but when theological blogs become a major part of one’s theological diet, well…it’s like eating a steady diet of junk food. Not that the blogs I read are junk, but they must compliment a balanced diet of the meat and veggies of spiritual discipline. For me, I’ve been lacking in prayer, Scriptural devotion, and reading other primary theological topics. So I had to pull back a bit to “cleanse the system.” Having the blog blocked gave me the mental freedom to forget about it for a while.

So if you’re feeling frazzled from a constant steam of virtual data, turn off the computer and go for a walk.

As I surf the Messianic Jewish blogosphere, one issue seems to be a constant topic of heated discussion. This topic, I think, has been raised due to the recent attention Vine of David has put on early Hebrew Christians. These Jewish men and women contributed to the development of the modern Messianic Jewish movement (MJM). Yet, unlike modern Messianic Jews (MJ’s) and Gentiles (MG’s), some of these Jewish believers seemed to have had no qualms about being identified with Christianity. I cannot speak for Messianic Jews, but the Messianic Gentile experience has largely been motivated by a desire to leave Christianity and the alleged “paganized” customs therein. These early Jewish believers challenge our paradigm. Though they have long passed on, their lifestyle challenges us to face the questions, “What is our relationship to Christianity? Are we a part of it? Are we a reform movement within it? Or are we another religion altogether?” We face anew the question of ecclesiology, the doctrine of the Church (capital C).

Even using the Ch-word makes many Messianics (MJ & MG) uneasy (though for different reasons). Here lies our first problem. We are far too hung up over terminology and semantics in the MJM. Church, assembly, congregation, synagogue, fellowship – these are all legitimate translations of the Hebrew kahal/kehilah/adah/keneset and the Greek ekklesia/sunagoge. All these words mean an assembly of people gathered for a common purpose.

The same seminatical issues come into play when we use the word “Christianity.” When we cut through the emotional baggage, one has to acknowledge that Christianity is simply defined as a religion founded on the teachings of Jesus of Nazareth as presented in the New Testament. That’s it.

We use these terms “the Church” and “Christianity” and even “religion” to turn our rejection of it into an abstraction. We forget that “the Church” and “Christianity” are compromised of people. People who are created in God’s image. And more than that, but people who love and have faith in the Messiah. As Paul says,

If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For with the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved. For the Scripture says, ‘Everyone who believes in him will not be put to shame.’ Romans 10:9-11

And again,

No one can say ‘Jesus is Lord’ except in the Holy Spirit…For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body–Jews or Greeks, slaves or free–and all were made to drink of one Spirit. 1 Corinthians 12:3, 12-13.

Therefore, we are left with this unmistakable fact, that we are united in Messiah with all those who believe and confess Messiah to be Lord and Messiah. We are part of one Body. A holy, apostolic, and dare I say…catholic Body :0 (just to be clear, this is not an endorsement of the Roman Catholicism, but an affirmation of the unity of all believers everywhere). Whether you acknowledge it or not, as a believer in Messiah, you are a part of the “Universal Congregation.”

So then, this naturally leads us to the next major discussion intimately related to this subject, what is the relationship between Israel and the Church? (Or, as Arnold Fruchtenbaum dubbed it, “Israelogy.”)

Different theological positions have answered this question in many different ways. For example, many theologians, beginning in the some of the Apostolic Fathers, but gaining definition and dominance with Augustine of Hippo, saw the Church as a distinct community separate from Israel. Many theologians during his time went to great lengths in explaining away the plain meaning of the grafted-in theology of Romans 11. Today, perhaps one of the best representations of this theology (called supersessionist or replacement theology) is Reformed Theology (which should come as no surprise, since Calvin was deeply influenced by Augustine of Hippo). The relationship of the Church and Israel is simply of one superseding the other.

On the other end of the spectrum is dispensationalism. This theological system divides salvation history into distinct periods that are governed by distinct administrations. Therefore, according to most dispensationalists, Israel, under the Mosaic dispensation, is a distinct dispensation from the Church, under the dispensation of grace. Typically, most dispensationalists believe that after the rapture of the Church, Israel will resume as the final dispensation before the Great Judgment.

Elements of both theologies can be found within the MJM. Yet, the MJM has posed serious challenges to these points of view (MJ’s specifically). Is was relatively easy to hold either view prior to the 18th/19th century for the simple reason that Jewish believers were a fraction of a percent of the church. But when numbers and numbers of MJ’s came on the scene, it begged the question (especially for dispensationalists), “Which group do these MJ’s belong to: Israel or the Church?” This was also a time period before the tragedy of the Holocaust, the miracle of the State of Israel, and the Vatican II Council, all of which radically altered Jewish-Christian relations in the 20th century.

Generally, most MJ’s and MG’s speak of “grafted-in theology” (or, egkentrizology to coin a theological term) or “Olive tree theology” (or, elaiology, to coin another). But what exactly does this mean? Despite this oft-used common lingo in the MJM, there are many different opinions as to what it means, and the implications of it. From bi-lateral ecclesiology, to two-house, to one law, dual covenant theology, and everything in between. Does this grafting-in require complete submission to rabbinic authority? A rejection of rabbinic authority? License to “do our own halacha”? Is this grafting-in tantamount to “conversion to Judaism,” with Gentiles becoming Jews? Or is it a more abstract “grafting-in,” with the Gentile church operating in one sphere and MJ’s operating in another?

There are many questions here to consider, and far more rabbit trails than I care to chase after. But in part 2, I will layout my considerations for a “elaiology” based upon Romans 11, Ephesians 2, and other relavent passages that deal with ecclesiology, concluding with the answer to our original question, how do we relate to the Church and the Synagogue?

Insightful words from the always brilliant R’ Abraham Joshua Heschel…

Six days a week the spirit is alone, disregarded, forsaken, forgotten. Working under strain, beset with worries, enmeshed in anxieties, man has no mind for ethereal beauty. But the spirit is waiting for man to join it.

Then comes the sixth day. Anxiety and tension give place to the excitement that precedes a great event. The Sabbath is still away but the thought of it’s imminent arrival stirs in the heart a passionate eagerness to be ready and worthy to receive it. (The Sabbath: It’s Meaning for Modern Man; chapter 7, Eternity Utters a day)

Have a Blessed Shabbat.

Here is a great video Ben Witherington posted on his blog. NT Wright comments on how our faith stands in distinction to the modernist spirit. I think he is quite right.

My favorite point from the interview is where NT Wright equates modernist enlightenment with Gnosticism. Considering the fact that Jesus Seminar types favor Gnostic Gospels like those of Thomas and Mary Magdalene, that’s really not too far of a stretch.