To Be or Not To Be (a Jew): Who or What am I?

A few thoughts on a book I recently finished, Messianic Judaism: A Modern Movement with an Ancient Past, by David H. Stern. This isn't a "review" as much as it is a random collection of thoughts I had while reading. It's messy, but that's probably because my thoughts about all this are messy. But rather than tidy them up, I think I'll just leave them in disarray, like a pile of post-it notes. I'm still trying to sort through ideas and questions. This book is helping, but I have a ways to go.

Speaking of messes, the book itself is a bit of a mess, actually. Lots of typos, if you can believe. And his style of presentation--Roman numeral outline (IIIA1, etc.) can get confusing, particularly when he references sections he previously discussed. I got in the habit of writing page numbers next to those references, just in case I wanted to go back and read them later. Also, there are even errors like talking about an Appendix that is in the book but not in the Table of Contents. Anyone else would have thrown up their hands and tossed the book (or contacted the publisher and offered her editing services, which I almost did). But apparently, I'm a highly motivated and somewhat patient reader, because I read cover to cover, with pencil in hand.  

The best thing I can say about the book is it represents a movement, possibly a significant movement, in terms of Jewish and Christian history. Stern and other Messianic Jews seem to have a sense of purpose, perhaps a calling, to bridge the divide ("the middle wall of partition" mentioned in the New Testament). He explains that "much of this book is occupied with correcting Christian misimpressions of Jewish ideas and practices." Beyond the broader question of whether the Christian church should embrace the Jewish roots of Christianity, Stern advocates for what he calls a "Messianic Jewish Systematic Theology," which he believes will bridge the schism that began around the 1st century when the largely Jewish (Messianic) church began to reach out to Gentiles ("grafted" in to the olive tree, according to Romans 9) and widened around the 4th century when the church, by then comprised predominantly of Gentile believers, insisted that Jews renounce their Judaism if they wanted to be part of the church. That schism obviously persists today, though Stern and others believe there's a renaissance of sorts taking place which they believe will ultimately culminate in "all Israel being saved" (i.e., the nation of Israel will acknowledge Jesus [Yeshua] as Messiah, though not all Jews individually will do so). 

Theology aside, however, I read the book with a personal agenda. Am I a Jew? I've read enough to know that, according to rabbinical teaching (Orthodox), I'm not. Orthodoxy teaches that Jewishness is passed down through the mother, not the father. Nevertheless, this is an issue I continue to struggle with. I'm fairly pragmatic in my thinking, and I try to work things out logically, if I can. And logically speaking, Jewishness is at least partly an ethnicity, though it's also other things (a religion, a culture, an identity, a system, a doctrine, a nationality). Focusing specifically on ethnicity, I refer to analogy. My husband is Japanese; I am not. Therefore my children are half-Japanese. Done and done. My dad is Jewish; my mother was not. My dad may be a non-practicing, secular, atheistic Jew, but belief in the God of Abraham and observance of Torah does not make one a Jew. Ethnically speaking, a Jew is a Jew, despite his rejection of Judaism, the religion. It's blood, it's genetics, it's ancestry, it's ethnicity. Therefore, the way I see it, the son or daughter of an ethnic Jew (father or mother) is half Jewish. 

An acquaintance, who is Jewish by birth and practice but who also believes that Jesus (Yeshua) is the Messiah, told me that the rabbi of her Messianic Jewish congregation is himself, like me, half Jewish on his father's side. Nevertheless, he considers himself a Jew. There's some difference of opinion here, particularly as I read Stern's explanation for what it means to be a Jew in his discussion about the Law of Return, what's known as making aliyah. My friend told me that according to Israel's Law of Return, any one who has a Jewish grandmother is allowed to make aliyah (so that would include me). However, evidently, it's not that simple, and Stern goes into some detail about how even Messianic Jews, who may be 100% Jewish, i.e., who are descended from two Jewish parents and who practice the tenets of Judaism, are denied the right of return if they admit that they are Christian. He writes: 

No other group of Jews is subject to such discrimination in Israel. Jewish Buddhists and Hindus can make aliyah. Jewish members of any 'new age' sect, no matter how odd, can make aliyah. Jewish idol-worshippers can make aliyah. Jewish atheists can make aliyah. Even Jewish known criminals can make aliyah. ...We Messianic Jews would have died in Auschwitz, so why can't we live as Jews in Israel? 

That last sentence makes it pretty clear to me. Blood is blood. Orthodoxy may say I'm not a Jew, but I'm my father's offspring, my lineage can be traced to my paternal grandparents and their parents who emigrated to America from the Ukraine. I may not be a Jew "officially," but there's this thread, frayed, perhaps, but intact, that connects me to that ancestry.

Does it matter? Will I or would I ever "convert"? I don't know. Probably not, at least not now. All I know is there's a connection to my Jewish ancestry, and I'm trying to put it all together with my belief in Christ, which I have no interest in abandoning. I continue to believe he's the Jewish Messiah, though I realize many believing Jews are either offended by this or view this as a heresy. 

Back to Messianic Judaism (the book). Here are some key takeaways: 

• Christianity is Jewish.
• Anti-Semitism is un-Christian.
• Originally, it was the Jews who brought the gospel to non-Jews, not the other way around. Neglecting to evangelize Jews is anti-Semitic.
• The word "Christian" has a very specific meaning: it refers to Gentile believers in Yeshua. Jewish believers are not called Christian--they're Messianic Jews. 
• Messianic Jews are "Jews who follow Jesus [Yeshua] and maintain a loyalty to their Jewish heritage." 
• People who have at least a rudimentary understanding of Christian theology may be familiar with the terms "replacement theology," and "two-covenant" theology. The former refers to the notion that the Jews are no longer God's people--they have been "replaced" by Christians. The latter refers to the teaching that "Jesus brought the covenant through which Gentiles emerge from paganism to know the one true God . . . [since] Jews already have the covenant through Moses . . . they do not need Yeshua the Messiah." Stern rejects both of these interpretations. 

As for who or what I am? I think I found my answer in the section I referred to earlier, on Messianic Jews and Aliyah. Stern writes, "Incidentally, if your mother is not Jewish, then, according to both halakhah [collective body of Jewish religious laws] and the Law of Return, neither are you." 

So, I'm not a Jew. I knew that. He continues. "However, if you have a father or grandparent who fits the Law of Return's definition of 'Jew' [which I do], then, even if you are openly known as a Christian [which I am], you have the undisputed right to immigrate to Israel under a special provision of the Law of Return dealing with non-Jewish descendants of Jews." 

Ah ha! Who or what am I? I'm a non-Jewish descendant of Jews!

Some additional thoughts: Dr. Stern is also the translator of the Jewish New Testament and the Complete Jewish Bible, as well as the author of a commentary on the Jewish New Testament. I purchased and have begun reading the Complete Jewish Bible. One thing I like about the translation is that it's a single book, by which I mean, pagination is continuous. The "old" testament doesn't end on page 1,222, and the "new" doesn't begin on page 1. Rather, the first book of the New Testament (Matthew, or Mattityahu) begins on page 1,223. The two books are one, as Dr. Stern explains in his Introduction:

Thus the New Testament apart from the Old is heretical, and the Old Testament apart from the New is incomplete--two testaments, one Bible. The Complete Jewish Bible graphically presents this unity by eliminating all separation between the Tanakh [the Old Testament] and the B'rit Hadasha [the New Testament] . . . There is no need to collect the first three-quarters of the Bible into the "Old Testament" and the last quarter into the "New." Rather, the Bible is presented as a seamless whole, a unified Word of God, a complete Jewish Bible for all humanity (xx). 

I actually love this. I have more to say on this, in fact. Some other time, perhaps.

And Then There Were None: A Conversation about Politics and Presidents

Below is an edited response to a question my daughter asked (via email) on April 28th. The conversation took place before Ted Cruz and John Kasich dropped out of the race, leaving Donald Trump as the presumptive nominee for the Republican Party as of May 4th. 

Q: I’m curious about your thoughts on this whole election debacle? I honestly don't even know what to think right now. Bernie Sanders appeals to me for obvious reasons but I doubt he'll get the Democratic nomination and I don't really know how I feel about Hillary and I am so horrified at the thought that TRUMP could be the Republican nominee but, even if he wasn't, I wouldn't pick Cruz. So, where do you go?

A. This morning I wrote a Letter to the Editor to the Los Angeles Times in response to an above-the-fold front page article called "GOP Gender Problem Just Got Worse." The article focused on Trump's anti-woman derisive comments about Hillary. Here's what I wrote: 

Donald Trump may have a gender problem, but the GOP does not. Donald Trump is not a Republican. He is an impostor who has hijacked the party and is taking it and the country on a nauseating joyride for his own amusement. The legitimate Republican candidate just announced as his running mate Carly Fiorina (female gender). That should have been the front page story. 

That's what I think about Trump. If he becomes the nominee, I don't vote for him. But I don't vote for Clinton either. Cruz was not my favorite (Marco Rubio was), but he's who I'll vote for. If Trump beats him to 1237, either before or during the Cleveland Convention, and becomes the GOP nominee, I hope Cruz/Fiorina run as a third party Independent ticket. Even if there are some things about him that I don't like, he is still, at his core, a principled conservative. 

Donald Trump is not a conservative. He's as big government as Clinton. Worse, he's a "strong man," a bully. Deep down, he's a liberal Democrat, no different from Clinton. So people who want a left-leaning, big government, 2016 is their year, it doesn't matter if it's Trump or Clinton. I don't think I could bear 4 or 8 years of either. My skin crawls every time I hear one of them speak. 

Sanders' appeal to you and to the younger generation and some in my generation, I find puzzling. Socialism has proven to be a failed system at best, and, at worst, a cruel and dehumanizing system. The fact that the Millennials are excited by him is not surprising since schools don't teach history anymore. But the Boomers and older should know better. A free market economy, with limited government regulation (limited, not eliminated), where innovation and entrepreneurial spirit is fostered, is what leads to a stronger economy, and yes, more opportunities for people to be employed and enter the middle class, to achieve the American dream. Government is there to protect, to provide a bona fide safety net but not cradle-to-grave security. 

I’m particularly puzzled about why young women are attracted to "big government." Women who pride themselves on independence, even to the point where they declare they don’t need a man. This new generation of feminists are so proud of their independence, but they embrace the idea of big government. What's "big government" if not, ultimately, a "daddy" or "husband" to take care of you, a la The Life of Julia? The beauty of conservatism is in its sense of self-dependence. Socialism takes all that away ("the government will take care of me and of him, no need for charity, etc.). 

The other day, I watched a fascinating interview from an old William F. Buckley, Jr. Firing Line segment. He was interviewing Margaret Thatcher before she had become Prime Minister. Most leftists despise her, but her comments and insights about socialism were very astute. She makes the case quite strongly about the harm a socialist government inflicts on individual freedoms, how people lose a sense of purpose, despite the fact that all their needs are supposedly being met by the government.

These are my core beliefs as a conservative. My thinking these days is this: conservatism is the "wine" that's stored in the "bottle" of the Republican party, which is why I'm no longer a Democrat. Once the Democratic party embraced abortion with no restrictions I changed my affiliation. But I'm not a party loyalist. If the Republican party skews left, which it will with Donald Trump at the helm, conservatism will have to find another wine bottle. You've heard the saying, "I didn't leave the Democratic party, the party left me." That will be true of me, as well as many conservatives, even if it means losing the election. 

Below are two short videos from Prager U that are relevant to the discussion about socialism. The first talks about something called The Laffer Curve, which maybe you studied in college economics (I didn't--I'm still catching up). The Laffer Curve has to do with the point at which the government actually loses money when tax rates reach a certain point. The other explains why conservatives believe government should not get too big, and addresses the problems in the European Union. 

Government: Isit Ever Big Enough? (William Voegeli, Senior Editor, Claremont Review of Books) 

Lower Taxes,Higher Revenue (Tim Groseclose, Professor of Economics, George Mason University)

A Few Thoughts on Elie Wiesel's "A Jew Today"

I must have picked this book up used somewhere, or maybe ordered online from my favorite used book supplier, Abe Books. It's been in my queue for awhile. I recently finished. 

In no particular order, here are some thoughts. 

1. There is so much I do not know. Not just about Jews and Judaism, but about history, about the world. More on this below. 

2. Elie Wiesel is a man of great sorrow. He admits as much in one of his essays ("An Interview Unlike Any Other"),  in which he describes how he vowed not to speak or write about what he saw for ten years: "Long enough to see clearly. Long enough to learn to listen to the voices crying inside my own. Long enough to regain possession of my memory. Long enough to unite the language of man with the silence of the dead." 

The interview was with French novelist François Charles Mauriac, the man credited as the one who encouraged Wiesel to finally tell his story. "I think that you are wrong," Mauriac said. "You are wrong not to speak . . . Listen to the old man that I am: one must speak out--one must also speak out." 

Wiesel did, and the resulting manuscript would eventually become Night. But that sounds too tidy, and it's not that simple, how it came about, nor was finally writing about it enough to alleviate his pain. Each essay in this collection is etched with anguish. Reading it, you feel like placing a hand over your mouth, the way you might feel sitting beside Job, or beside one in mourning. You don't belong here. There's nothing to say. Nothing can be said.  

3. There is so much I do not know. Section II is called "Excerpts from a Diary." Each chapter is commentary on a current event, or controversy, or personality, of the era. My ignorance is deep and wide. After each chapter, I slunk my way to Google for a little primer on moments in history like the Biafran (Nigerian) Civil War between 1967-1970, where mass starvation was used as a legitimate weapon of war;  the genocide of the Aché  people of Paraguay during the second half of the century; United Nations General Assembly Resolution 3379 on November 10, 1975, which determined that Zionism is a form of racism and racial discrimination. The Resolution was later revoked in 1991 at the initiation of President George H.W. Bush. Wiesel writes of diaries left behind in the camps, somehow written and concealed by the Sonder Kommando; of Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn: was he an anti-Semite? He writes of apartheid in South Africa, of Holocaust denial. He writes, and the intellect is strong, the words eloquent, but the emotion is raw. Time has not healed, nor likely ever will. He is deeply scarred.

4. Not, "where was God?" but, "where was man?" This was something I picked up on, not anything he wrote in those exact words, so I hope I'm not inferring in error. It was the chapter called "A Plea for the Survivors," which originally appeared in New York Times Magazine in August, 1978. He explains how the victims in the concentration camps believed the civilized world knew nothing about what was happening in the camps, otherwise they would come to their rescue. They consoled themselves with this one thought: "If the killers could kill freely, it was only because the Allies were not informed." But after the liberation, it became clear: in fact, the Allies did know. Everyone knew. While Jews were being decimated, thousands and thousands per day, newspapers around the world dutifully reported everything that was happening. Full coverage. Yet, no outrage. No demonstrations. Not even among American Jews. In the margins, I kept writing, "Why?" At one point, I wrote, "J'accuse!" The evil was there to see, but people in other parts of the world carried on, as if it were already too late for the European Jews. Today, it's easy to blame God. "Where was God in the Holocaust?" atheist Jews ask, and one has no answer, one can only nod in sorrow and shame, still believing in God. But reading this essay, I'm not so quick to blame God. If he's real, if he was aware of the atrocities that occurred then, if he's aware now, do we expect him to intervene supernaturally? Or does his intervention take place when people of courage and conscience stand up, speak out, act, intervene, take up arms. The courage of those who hid Jews in their homes, who lied to protect their Jewish neighbors, who smuggled infants and children out of the country. Stories of the Righteous Among the Nations, men and women, inspire. The courage it took to defy such evil, I can't even imagine.

But reading this, I am angered not at God but at man, at myself. Every day I read of Christians being annihilated, and organizations trying to rescue and intervene send me emails (I'm on half a dozen lists), asking for money. I glance at the messages and feel sad and guilty before deleting. Meanwhile, men and women who share my faith are being tortured, crucified, beheaded, burned alive. Not where is God, but where are we? Where am I? What can I do? Will sending $25 make a difference? I don't know. All I know is nothing I do can change things. Until and unless "they come for me," as the poem goes, we'll continue living life, making dinner, reading the news, shaking our heads...

J'accuse! 

I am guilty, not God. 

This is a book full of "must read" essays.  "A Plea for the Survivors" is one of them. 

First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out— 
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out— 
Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.

(Martin Niemöller, 1892-1984)

No Safe Spaces at Princeton

Excellent conversation between Bill Kristol and Professor Robert P. George of Princeton. I was particularly interested, near the middle of the conversation, about George's gradual transition from Democrat to Republican (in retrospect, he thinks he was more of a conservative Democrat), and also his collaboration with Cornel West, his Princeton colleague, but himself a liberal, in graduate seminars. Both academics reject the recent trend on college campuses to create "safe spaces" or "trigger warnings." I like how West describes the collaboration: "There are no safe spaces in our seminars." 

I fear for this next generation (my brother's kids), and the current batch, the so-called millennials (my kids, my older nieces and nephews). The pressure to conform, to put up and shut up or be bullied into silence, keeps them in a bubble or cocoon, safe within their tribes. The challenge presented here, to allow cherished ideals to be challenged, scrutinized, is crucial to the health and future of a free society.

Conversations with Bill Kristol

Robert P. George on Our Universities, Natural Law, and Social Conservatism

Description: The McCormick Professor of Jurisprudence and founding director of the James Madison Program in American Ideals and Institutions at Princeton University, Robert George is one of the nation’s most distinguished students of legal and moral thought. In this conversation with William Kristol, George discusses the state of American conservatism as well as the condition of freedom of speech and thought on university campuses. He also details the development of his own political and moral views, including his interest in the natural law tradition in moral philosophy. Finally, Kristol and George discuss the importance of social conservatism in our public policy debates today.

Segments

Chapter 1 Conservatism and the University
Chapter 2 Growing Up in Appalachia
Chapter 3What is Natural Law?
Chapter 4 Why We Need Social Conservatism