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BY: David Klinghoffer
With the end of Charlotte Hays' Loose Canon blog last week, we introduce David Klinghoffer as Beliefnet's guest blogger for the week of March 6 to March 10. Klinghoffer is a senior fellow at the Discovery Institute in Seattle and the author most recently of "Why the Jews Rejected Jesus: The Turning Point in Western History" (Doubleday). Chabad is a Hasidic sect that focuses its amazing energies on “inreach”--basically, ministering to and evangelizing fellow Jews on behalf of a highly traditional but at the same time highly nonjudgmental form of Orthodox Judaism. It is frequently assailed, not least in Jewish religious circles, Orthodox and otherwise. The rabbi at the Reform temple where I grew up denounced the local Chabad rabbi who, the Reform rabbi felt, was seeking to poach on his congregation, thereby endangering the man’s livelihood. From the Orthodox side, Chabad used to be and sometimes still is condemned for the belief among some Lubavitchers that the late Rebbe was the Messiah, or Moshiach, that after he died in 1994 it was only a matter of time before he was resurrected to assume the Messianic mantle. There is some speculation about whether Matisyahu himself believes this.
The view from a Jewish perspective isn’t as far out as it sounds--the Talmud’s tractate Sanhedrin offers an opinion that the Messiah could indeed be someone from either the currently living or from the currently dead. For an example of a resurrected Messiah, it proposes the prophet Daniel as a hypothetically imaginable candidate. But the Lubavitch movement has overwhelmingly moved on from the “Messianist” position and rejoined mainstream Judaism which looks forward to a Messiah who is very much of the living.
More recently, Jewish anti-Chabad sniping has taken the form of the complaint that Chabad is a sellout, that is somehow cynical, that is waters down the requirements of Orthodox Judaism. The website FailedMessiah.com--a consistent Chabad-basher--carps nastily about how “Matisyahu pimps the [Chabad] image, and Chabad pimps Matisyahu.” For more instance of anti-Chabad teeth-gnashing see here, here, and here.
The nastiness is all a symptom of the success that Chabad has had since the sixth Lubavitch Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn, arrived in the U.S. in 1940, following a miraculous escape from the Nazis. (The anniversary of his arrival is tomorrow.) Since then, the Chabad philosophy centered on unconditional love of fellow Jews has blossomed in the system of emissaries--basically Jewish missionary workers scattered around the world, I mean everywhere around the world, who provide the service of ministering to Jews--lost Jews, found Jews, all Jews--offering meals, fellowship, counseling, worship opportunities, friendship.
Chabad emissaries are omnipresent, frequently operating out of home synagogues, raising their own salaries, this most extraordinarily energetic and cheerful--truly joyous, full good humor and bonhomie--group of people I know.
Their loving acceptance of others is amazing to behold, and Jews from all walks of life respond to it. For example, I recently became reacquainted with my fourth-grade homeroom teacher, who lives in Southern California where I grew up. She self-identifies as an atheist--yeah, right--but loves Chabad and attends Chabad Sabbath services whenever she can. This is far from unusual.
I know countless Jews who, like myself, come from secular backgrounds but have been touched by Chabad’s grace, charm, sincerity, and dedication. We make up the large majority of people who attend worship services led by Lubavitch emissaries around the country and around the world. Lubavitchers serve us selflessly. There’s never any intention of making anybody into a Chabad follower. The ideal, of course, is to see every Jew joined in a relationship with God through the language of the Torah’s 613 commandments. But Chabad is patient. It puts no pressure on anyone. It assumes that the electricity that surges in Torah, if simply presented, not pushed, will exercise its own attraction. All in good time.
It is, in fact, this very patience that has got Chabad in hot water with some fellow Orthodox Jews who want standards enforced. This vein of anti-Chabad carping represents, I think, an illustration of a very human comfort with mediocrity and stasis coupled with a resistance to high-energy attempts to shake things up. This, indeed, is the history of mystical Hasidic Judaism, in its confrontation with conventional Judaism, in a nutshell.
The lesson for Christians, especially evangelical Christians, should be obvious. Spend less time preaching, more time offering fellowship, friendship, especially over meals, which is the Jewish way. Be patient. You’ll be rewarded, and so will those people to whom you minister.
No Joy in Mudville
There is much disappointment in certain Jewish and Christian circles over the news in Jerusalem Post that two important Christian pastors, John Hagee and Jerry Falwell, don’t think Jews are going to heaven. This follows corresponding excitement and jubilation at a previous Post report that Hagee and Falwell had accepted “dual covenant” theology, which teaches that Jews and Christians have separate but equal paths to an eternal heavenly reward.
“Say it ain’t so,” is what I’m sure Falwell and Hagee’s followers and colleagues beseeched them, and understandably so - “dual covenant” makes nonsense of the basic Christian message that the new covenant or new testament supercedes the old. Like it or not, that’s what Paul clearly had in mind when he dismissed Jewish Torah observance as a “curse,” a “captor,” from which we Jews are now set free. To reject the offer of liberation - had God made such an offer, or if “liberation” from a Torah-based relationship with Him were desired - would be a poor basis for a continuing covenant of any value.
Quite consistent with his adherence to this basic Christian belief, Falwell clarified:
“I have been on record all 54 years of my ministry as being opposed to dual covenant theology...I simply cannot alter my deeply held belief in the exclusivity of salvation through the Gospel of Christ for the sake of political or theological expediency. Like the Apostle Paul, I pray daily for the salvation of everyone, including the Jewish people.”
Good for him. I’m a great believer in deepening Jewish-Christian friendship but that can’t be done on the basis of dismantling fundamental belief structures.
I know many Jews find it eerie to sit across a table from a Christian friend who thinks, unless you accept Jesus, you’re going to hell. But consider, there is a strong vein in our own religion that says much the same about them.
Yes, it’s true that Jews have a concept of “the pious ones of the nations of the world,” a category of gentiles who have an eternal reward in the world to come. A non-Jew who studies the Bible and fulfills it is held, by Jewish tradition, to be on the level of a Jewish high priest, no less. On the other hand, in his encyclopedic rendition of Jewish law, the Mishneh Torah, Maimonides - there is no more authoritative rabbinic voice in the past thousand years - rules that Christians and Muslims have no heavenly reward. This is because they both, in their different ways, deny the authority of the Torah.
This disturbing idea about Christians and Muslims is not a mainstream belief in any Jewish “denomination.” But it is still right there on the page in a religious work (the Mishneh Torah) that as a whole is extremely mainstream.
So when Jews say it’s somehow inherently offensive of Christians to imagine us being denied God’s presence in the afterlife, I say: Oh yeah? Offensive? Go ask Maimonides.
Out of a Hat?
Responding plaintively to my earlier post linking Woody Allen with the sinister Biblical entity called Amalek (associated with the belief that the history of life and of existence is driven by chance and randomness), a reader going by the handle revandre asks: “But, tell me, your interpretations of scripture...do you stay up nights coming up with these things?”
Presumably, revandre was puzzled by some not-obvious interpretation I cited, on the authority of “Biblical tradition.” I figure some clarification of that phrase may be in order.
The Hebrew Bible is the most extraordinarily puzzling document I know of. While translations invariably seek to hide this from us, papering over what’s so very strange, the Scriptural text is full of what one may only call editorial difficulties: everything from grammatical and spelling anomalies to factual contradictions, language that makes no sense, information that should be there but isn’t, information that seems totally out of context, and on and on. When read in the original Hebrew, the Torah especially is full of seeming editorial glitches. There’s at least one in almost every verse. I was a professional magazine editor for nine years and I can tell you that either the Five Books of Moses are the most ineptly edited work ever - or, it’s something else.
What?
Of course secularist academics insist that the Torah was edited together from older texts by an editor or editors with minute care over the course of years, decades, centuries...This theory, the Documentary Hypothesis, is implausible to anyone who’s been an editor. Then again, as I also know from personal experience, most professors can barely write, much less edit, competently. So don’t blame them for missing this.
The only other explanation of the weirdness of the Pentateuch - at least the only explanation seriously on offer--is that it is intentionally cryptic. That is, every seeming editorial glitch is like a hand with a pointed finger directing us to consult some outside source that provides the key to unlocking this otherwise locked text.
What’s the key? Well, Judaism offers what we call the oral tradition, which is said to have its origin, just as the Torah itself does, at Mount Sinai. There, Moses received not only the text of the Pentateuch but also an oral explanation from God. He was instructed to keep this interpretation oral, not to write it down. And so it remained, the inheritance of every generation of Jews, passed down from father to son, from teacher to student, for some 1,500 years.
That is, until the oral tradition, a.k.a. the Oral Torah, began to be lost. So it was written down, first in the Mishnah, about 200 C.E., later at more length in the Jerusalem and Babylonian Talmuds, then in the Midrashic books, and so on. In a real sense, the Oral Torah is still being passed down and written into our own time.
When I cite “Biblical tradition,” this is what I have in mind. This is why when you open a traditional printing of the Hebrew Bible, the text itself is surrounded by a swarm of classical commentators deploying the oral tradition to clarify the text’s veiled meanings.
I hope this helps. I know it won’t sit right with liberals. So go ahead, attack away. Tell me how you can explain the reason that the very first word in the Bible, “Bereishit,” is a grammatical error--meaning not “In the beginning” but “In the beginning of”--where the grammatical referent (“of what?”) is simply missing.
Then go on to the next error in the text, and the next, and the next. Then go on to Genesis 1:2 and proceed from there.
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