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No, really – it’s been that long.

I’ve been working elsewhere, and something someone said in one of those elsewhere places got me to thinking about how close I come in my own mind to maybe wishing I were Jewish.

I figured out that I’m not really near that point at all, which wasn’t a huge surprise, but I also got a clearer perspective on where I stand as a goy in relation to the Jewish world.

This particular person, an Orthodox lady on Twitter (who shall remain nameless for the sake of this blog, since it’s what she said that matters, not who said it), seemed intrigued as to why I wanted to study Torah (or Talmud), and said something about how hard it is sometimes to keep all those mitzvot, but how wonderful it is to be in the privileged position to be under the obligation.

Wonderful, yes, it would be, but knowing I’m not, I got to thinking would I want to? That it is, would I want to convert? Simple answer – no. That, my friends, completely skewers any wannabe attitude. I mean, how could I say I wannabe, if given the chance, I would not. Not that I’ve really said here that I am or was a wannabe Jew – wannabe, or wouldabeen-nicetobeen actual Shabbos Goy, yes, but I don’t think I’ve ever said I thought I was a wannabe Jew. But I’ve thought about it.

And all that made me also think a little harder about what is it that I do want to be in relation to the Jewish people. I’m not sure if this constitutes a fall-back position, but my basic vista point (like one of those places on a scenic highway) is that I who was born into darkness have been shown the light because Am HaSefer carried that light for centuries, carefully preserving it and transmitting it from one generation to the next, until it shined on me.

Yes, of course it was through HaAdon Yeshua HaMashiach the Lord Jesus Christ that this occurred, but it’s not just a simple matter of saying that we ought to love the Jews because Jesus was (never mind that He still is) Jewish. It’s also because a nation, and not just a nation, but thousands and millions of individual people – men, women, children, families – lived and died for the purpose of carrying the light of life in the form of a book, and in the form of their own lives. Not everyone lived their daily lives thinking that way, nor likely many at all, but it was the fact of their lives nonetheless.

And because of the purpose and sacrifice of these many, many souls, I have life.

They had life given to them, to give to me, and they gave what they had, and now I have life.

I think perhaps some gratefulness is in order. Well, more than some. But a remarkable thing about gratefulness is that it’s human nature to begin to put on a pedestal those to whom we are rightly grateful. And that is not good. It does them a disservice, in that we then may begin to expect more from them from that point on than is fair, and it also is a first step toward idolizing them. Even if we don’t go that far, we tend to start thinking that most of what they do is right – that it must be, because that’s who they are. There is, for instance, a serious tendency among Christian Zionists to give cart blanche support to the State of Israel, defending its actions even when they are wrong and we know it. Or maybe sometimes we don’t know it when they’re wrong, because we’ve got them up on that pedestal.

So I have to watch myself on that account. But still my heart is deeply moved that, at no particular cost to me, I have life through the written Word of God, preserved at such great, great cost by the People of the Book.

A really great story from Yeshiva World, passed along in The Goy’s Guide to Israel!

In this news item, really, there are these shabbos goyim (real ones, not wannabes like me) who decided they should be paid as though they were, well, not goyim. If that’s not bad enough, they thought they could sue and win! For some reason, Tel Aviv Labor Court did not agree.

With such chutzpa, perhaps we should make them honorary yids? No. God forbid we should encourage such behavior!

Or, The Romans and the Law, part II

Rom 13:10 Love does no evil to a neighbor; therefore love is the fulfillment of the Law.

Which “Law” does love fulfill? Love fulfills Torah. “Jesus said to him, You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.

So, to those Christians who say they are not under Law, but under grace, if they do not distinguish between Torah and the law of sin & death, does this mean they are not obligated to love God and their neighbor?

Don’t even think that I came to do away with the Law and the Prophets. I did not come to do away with them, but to fulfill.

What I hear a lot of the time from well-meaning Christians about that verse in Matthew is that Jesus fulfilled Torah (which is true, although they flinch a little when you say “Torah” rather than “the law”), but then they seem to sidetrack that by saying, in effect, that because he fulfilled the law, we now don’t have to, or something like that. He did it, so it’s taken care of, and we can move on to the next thing, such as being good Christians, whatever they think that means. Ask three different Christians what that means, and you’ll get at least five different answers. But — hello! — Jesus is telling us in this whole chapter what it takes to be “good Christians;” what constitutes being the salt and light. And it’s keeping every “jot and tittle” of the law.

Heaven and earth may disappear. But I promise you that not even a period or comma will ever disappear from the Law. Everything written in it must happen. If you reject even the least important command in the Law and teach others to do the same, you will be the least important person in the kingdom of heaven. But if you obey and teach others its commands, you will have an important place in the kingdom. You must obey God’s commands better than the Pharisees and the teachers of the Law obey them. If you don’t, I promise you that you will never get into the kingdom of heaven. [Olam Haba]

He then goes on to give a few more details about what it means to keep the mitzvot better than the most religious people around – and it all boils down to what’s going on in the heart. He has a lot to say in several places about doing the commandments by starting from the inside out – that it just plain doesn’t work when you try to do it any other way.

But, how can we do that, even? Can a leopard change its spots? Aren’t we like, bad inside, and can’t change that?

Well, yes we are, until we submit to God’s purpose in changing us, completely, on the inside, so that we can then be changed progressively from the inside out. This is what being “born again” means. It’s not a catchy phrase meaning “now I’m a Christian.” It’s a whole new, brand new start in life.

The prophet Ezekiel wrote “And I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you: I will take away the heart of stone from your flesh, and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my spirit in you, causing you to be guided by my rules, and you will keep my commandments and do them.”

Now, notice how many times God says “I will” in that verse. “I will… I will… I will.” Folks, we can’t do it, but he will. The apostle Paul gets a bad rap in a lot of places, but this holds true, if you can grasp it: “God is working in you to make you willing and able to obey him.”

But, there’s an “if” here, as there nearly always is. We have to submit to God’s will in this, and he says in the verse right before that, “at the name of Jesus everyone will bow down, those in heaven, on earth, and under the earth. And to the glory of God the Father everyone will openly agree, ‘Jesus Christ is Lord!‘”

This is to do the work of God: to have faith in him whom God has sent.

Or as the prophet Isaiah said: “I invite the whole world to turn to me and be saved. I alone am God! No others are real. I have made a solemn promise, one that won’t be broken: Everyone will bow down and worship me. They will admit that I alone can bring about justice. Everyone who is angry with me will be terribly ashamed and will turn to me. I, the LORD, will give victory and great honor to the people of Israel.

God says, “I invite.” He doesn’t force us. I’m not here, and neither is he, to twist your arm into believing that Jesus Christ, Mashiach Yeshua ha-Natzeri, is Hashem revealed in human form. It’s your choice, my friend, whether to accept this, or not.

To my way of thinking, there are two kinds of people in the world: HaAm, and the rest of us. Not that I mind being in the second category. Not all that much, anyway. I mean, it’s what I’ve been given in life. I should be thankful, and therefore I am. And what if I were able only to keep 612 mitzvot?