I am against the religious and against the secular, or to be more precise:
I am partially for each of them. —Menahem Ben, Who Painted the Cyclamen?)

* * * * * * * * * * *

Superficially, the theme picked for this conference is almost offensive. After all, aren’t we all Jews? Aren’t we all “us” and not “them”? Years ago, I used to say: “I don’t need to prove that I am Jewish to anybody. I was born in Israel, to Jewish parents. I fought two wars, did my reserve army duty, and pay my taxes. That I believe in Yeshua changes nothing.” How naïve I was.

Others continue to express themselves in a similar fashion. The Ami Ortiz incident1 which occurred in March (2008) gave us the opportunity to see how a number of Messianic Jews represented themselves in the Israeli media. Someone from Yad Hashmona stated: “We are not missionaries. We don’t preach to anybody to convert to Christianity or to change their religion. We are Israelis in every way. Our sons and daughters go to the army’s elite units. We believe in Yeshua, who is the messiah and the savior of Israel. We love Israel just like any other Israelis, if not more” (Yediot Aharonot, “mekavim shelo nihiye habaim bator,” 23.3.2008, p. 11). Another believer from Jerusalem said: “We are no less Jews than those who think they are real Jews. There is only one difference between us: we believe in Yeshua” (Yediot Aharonot, “lo mechakim lamashiach,” 8.4.2008, p. 10).

Despite such claims, however, the Jewish people and the State of Israel have chosen to place Messianic Jews outside the “brotherhood” by means of legislation and a level of discrimination. In the mood characteristic of the present Jewish world, the exclusion of Messianic Jews from the “brotherhood” – thus turning them into “others” (hence the expression, “belong to another religion”) – amounts to nothing less than an accusation. Messianic Jews must face this reality, that against their own will, and regardless of their protest, they are regarded as “the other” – at least formally. The “brother,” on the other hand, is any Jew who does not regard Yeshua as Messiah.

The following is an attempt to explore why, despite the name they have chosen for themselves – Messianic Jews – Jewish believers in Yeshua are still looked upon as “the other.” As a prelude, perhaps the following description of Messianic Judaism, published in Hazofeh, the newspaper of the National Religious wing, can serve as an insight into how “the brother” views “the other.” In a surprisingly objective article written in the wake of the Bat-El Levi incident,2 Hadar Ravid propagated the fairly accurate description found in the Hebrew Wikipedia: “Messianic Judaism is a collection of independent congregations, who define themselves as Jewish and contain elements from Christianity, and in particular from Evangelicalism. Messianic Jews do not have uniformed prayer book and their holy scriptures contain both the Tanakh and New Testament. For the most part, their prayers are personal and are said by those who pray. One of the main Messianic articles of faith is evangelism, meaning the propagation of their faith. Messianic Jews see themselves as ‘believers’ rather than as ‘religious’ [i.e., Orthodox]. According to them, they do not hang pictures of Jesus or Mary, and do not go to houses of prayer. […] In their opinion, every believer must develop a personal relationship with God. The personal prayers are directed to God (‘our Father in heaven’) and usually end up with the words ‘in the name of Yeshua Hamashiach, amen.’ As far as the believers are concerned, every Jew can keep the Jewish tradition and no one is required to accept the Christian tradition, with the exception of the rite of baptism” (Hazofeh, “hamisionerim poalim beshitot metuchkamot,” 7.5.2008, p. 14).

Similar descriptions appeared in other newspapers, such as the following: “Messianic Judaism is a collection of religious groups that are loosely connected and who define themselves as Jewish but contain mainly Christian elements. They see the Tanakh and the New Testament as Scripture but do not accept the Oral Law and the precepts that derive from it. […] Messianic Judaism is considered by many as a missionary [sect] and is not seen as a legitimate Jewish movement by most other Jewish movements, who see them as Christians for all purposes” (Yediot Petah Tikvah, “kat shenuia bemahaloket,” 28.3.2008, p. 33).

The above are, I think, fair descriptions of Messianic Judaism as seen by those who take the time to examine it. What should be noted from them is that while they acknowledge Messianic Judaism’s self-definition, they nevertheless assert that they cannot accept it because the beliefs and practices involved are not Jewish. This does not necessarily mean, however, that Messianic Jews are rejected by everyone. Today, large numbers of Israelis are willing to tolerate Jews who believe in Yeshua – just as they are willing to tolerate Jews who believe in Hare Krishna – partly because of a lack of knowledge and partly because of secular liberal worldviews. It is nonetheless helpful to remember that “toleration” does not equal “acceptance.” In the following, I will attempt to show that, even with the best intentions, the gap between “the other” and “the brother” cannot be fully closed and that Messianic Jews should consider it an achievement if they obtain the status of being perceived as “the other brother.”

Part One: The Other
Although we all know, to one degree or another, what has led the Jewish world to treat “Messianic Jews” (using this term here is, of course, anachronistic) as “the other” – a term which at its worst means “former Jews who seek to destroy the Jewish people” – it behooves us to remind ourselves of some of the reasons that brought about what amounts to a complete rupture between “the brother” and “the other.”

While much has happened since the time of Yeshua, strong reactions against him arose almost simultaneously with the beginning of his public ministry. Although he collected a large following, we learn that from the inception of his public role he faced fierce opposition. So, for example, Mark informs us that he was seen as a blasphemer shortly after his first public sermon – an accusation that haunts him to this today: “And some of the scribes were sitting there and reasoning in their hearts, ‘Why does this man speak blasphemies like this? Who can forgive sins but God alone?’” (Mk. 2:6-7). This initial murmur developed into a full-blown hatred which eventually led to his crucifixion. This should teach us that Messianic Jews can be treated as “the other” regardless of their performance (“And you will be hated by all for My name’s sake” [Mt. 10:22]).

----------------
We may therefore conclude that – without apportioning any blame –
the hard fact is that tragic historical circumstances
led the Jewish people to view any follower of Yeshua
as “the other.” It can also be concluded that Messianic
Jews voluntarily set themselves apart from the
Jewish community, either by conversion or,
in modern times, by attempting to create a
distinct form of Jewish life.
Consequently, whether by force or by choice,
Messianic Jews have become “the other” – or non-Jews.

With the rise of Christianity in the fourth century c.e., the treatment of the Messianic Jew as “the other” received its familiar twist. “The full flowering of that theology which attributed Jewish miseries to divine punishment for Christ’s crucifixion”3 took its toll, and from then on it would be Christian mistreatment of the Jewish people that would define the Jew who believes in Yeshua as “the other.” By the thirteenth century, the hated Christian was fully amalgamated with the image of Yeshua, as can be learned from the Nitzahon Vetus. This Jewish polemical work finds Yeshua guilty on all counts, and does so because of embittered relations, economic exploitation, usury, blood libels, Christian heresy, and the failure of the Crusades, etc.4 The tenuous relationship between the Jewish and Christian communities placed “Messianic Jews” in a precarious situation, neither community allowing them to be who they wanted to be. This lack of acceptance led them to adopt the conversion option. Being ostracized by the Jewish community, some of them turned into bitter enemies of their former brothers. This sad phenomenon was particularly visible when converted Jews played a key role in the religious debates of the Middle Ages.

This brief historical sketch demonstrates that if in the first century c.e. the reasons for treating Messianic Jews as “the other” were, from our perspective, unwarranted, with the rise of Christianity the treatment of the Messianic Jew as “the other” can be justified – if for no other reason than the potent reality that forced Jews who came to faith in Yeshua into conversion.

We may therefore conclude that – without apportioning any blame – the hard fact is that tragic historical circumstances led the Jewish people to view any follower of Yeshua as “the other.” It can also be concluded that Messianic Jews voluntarily set themselves apart from the Jewish community, either by conversion or, in modern times, by attempting to create a distinct form of Jewish life. Consequently, whether by force or by choice, Messianic Jews have become “the other” – or non-Jews.

While one can criticize previous generations of Messianic Jews for leaving the Jewish fold, with respect to the attitude they adopted towards the Jewish liturgy, for example, they were faced with little choice given the fact that these prayers contain a deliberate attempt to exclude any heretic, and in particular Messianic Jews, from worshiping God together with Kehal Israel. Today, the trend among some Messianic Jews is to either ignore such prayers or give them another interpretation. In the 2004 Hashivenu forum, Jonathan Kaplan suggested taking just that course of action, but in reverse: Messianic Jews should not exclude other Jews by inserting the name “Yeshua” into their prayers. “At the end of Birkat Hamazon,” writes Kaplan, “‘Yeshua’ was inserted into the prayers in connection with the titles Messiah and the Son of David. [The] elderly gentleman could not understand why we had changed the liturgy. I myself was unable to explain to him why. […] His question forced me to ask myself why we changed the liturgy when for us it is quite obvious that the Messiah is Yeshua. Both of us could have prayed this prayer together with quite different understandings of its meaning, but instead, distance was created between our community and this couple from New York by our alteration of a fairly standard prayer.”5

What is interesting to note here is that Kaplan – as most of us – recognizes the existence of the “alienation factor” (that is: Yeshua), which must be dealt with in order to achieve, in this case, meaningful communal prayer. Kaplan, and others, suggests changing the meaning of the text (kavanah) rather than the text itself (keva). But how can one change the meaning of: “True – You are the First and You are the Last, and other than You we have no King, Redeemer, or Savior” in the ezrat avotenu prayer which concludes the Shema, and which is so obviously polemical? To pray this means not only to deny Yeshua but also the reality of “King Messiah” altogether. Likewise, how can a Messianic Jew pray the sentence, “I do not put my trust in the son of man nor do I put my faith in the son of God,”6 which appears in the Aramaic prayer before the Torah reading?

These examples illustrate the fact that perceiving Messianic Jews as “the other” is embedded not only in Judaism but also in Messianic Judaism’s own worldview. We have come full circle to the reality prophesied by Yeshua: “Remember the word that I said to you, ‘A servant is not greater than his master.’ If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you” (Jn. 15:20).

For Messianic Jews who wish to live according to Jewish tradition, this situation presents them with no small problem. Consider, for example, some Jewish believers’ desire to take part in the life of the local synagogue. To do so, they must conceal their identity, skip certain prayers, and change the meaning of others. But if faith, meaning, and intentions were visible, “the other” participant would most likely be asked to leave. The same is true of more secular Jewish society. I opened by saying that, “I don’t need to prove that I am Jewish to anybody.” This statement ignores the “alienation factor” recognized in Israeli Jewish society through the Supreme Court’s ruling in the Beresford case – namely, that faith in Yeshua places one outside the pale of Judaism (secular and religious). Clinging to secular definitions of Jewish identity in order to remove the “alienation factor” is not a viable option, and quite frankly, shouldn’t be.

To their credit, it must be said that past generations of “Messianic Jews” rejected the religious and secular options of identity concealment, paying for it with the price of conversion. Today, however, living in a considerable more tolerant Jewish world, “the other” (meaning “us”) who does not want to give up his Jewish identity should consider other options that are neither absorption into Christianity nor assimilation into Judaism.

Part B: The Brother
Although, as I have attempted to demonstrate, Messianic Jews as “the other” are the stranger, the alien, the outsider, this is only part of who they are. “Male and female He created them” – or, if you like, opposites do not only coexist but by definition must coexist. This is not only true in regard to the nature of Messianic Jews but also in respect of the nature of all human beings. Male and female, “the other” and “the brother,” is the sphere where dialogue takes place. It should be noted that “in the beginning” there are only monologues. “And God said let there be light … let the earth sprout … let the earth bring forth living creatures …” Only one voice was heard through the vast emptiness. When it comes to the creation of man, however, we hear, “Let us make man.” This is the dialogue that precedes the creation of man. The stars, the trees, and the animals are mute, but God speaks, and so does man. Without dialogue there are no human beings, no procreation, no life. The absence of dialogue is barrenness, hatred, and death: “Cain spoke to Abel his brother. And when they were in the field, Cain rose up against his brother Abel and killed him.” In the absence of dialogue, death comes swiftly, leaving “the other” without “the brother.”

I opened this section with these remarks because I think that many Messianic Jews sometimes find it intolerable to live with the necessary inner tension between “the other” and “the brother” because they live in conflicting worlds and possess conflicting loyalties. “The other” wants to be loyal to Yeshua. “The brother” wants to be loyal to the Jewish people. The struggle to maintain this dual loyalty is sometimes crushing, which is why so many choose to be only “the other” and so few choose to be only “the brother.” It really takes the power of the Holy Spirit to look the Jewish people in the eye and say: “Whether it is right in the sight of God to listen to you more than to God, you judge. For we cannot but speak the things which we have seen and heard” (Acts 4:19-20). The task Messianic Jews face is therefore twofold: they must find peace within themselves and must also strive to live in peace with the rest of the Jewish people. “The other” and “the brother” is therefore both an inner and an external struggle.

In one of the Seinfeld episodes, George’s father, Frank Constanza, shouts “serenity now” whenever he cannot resolve a conflict – with his wife, his son, or his friends. By retreating to a monologue, he hoped to put a stop to the escalating tension with “the other.” In fact, however, the louder he shouted, the more estranged he became. This in turn only made resolving the conflict a more difficult task. In some senses, Messianic Jews are acting in precisely the same way. It seems to me that the more opposition they face, the louder they shout “serenity now” or, “we are Jews. We are Jews. We are Jews!” To the observer – in that particular episode, Lloyd the lunatic (and lunatics or jokers are often the truth bearers) – Frank’s behavior was going from “serenity now” to “insanity later.”

When things become difficult – and this should probably come as no surprise to us – it is easier to remain “the other” than joining “the brother.” Consider the words of Ariel Birnbaum, a Givati soldier who was shot in the leg during one of the IDF raids into Gaza last March (2008): “I speak the language and know the codes of behavior […] yet I feel imprisoned inside a transparent bubble from which it is hard to break through to the outside. […] I want to break through, to have a sense of belonging. I want to feel that I am an inseparable part of Israeli society despite, and maybe because of, my faith. And I want to know that there is no conflict between Yeshua and my Jewishness. […] Yet it is easier to remain inside the glasshouse. It is comfortable. Not too many questions. Not too many wonderings. Not too much thinking. Just living” (“Stepping out of the Glasshouse,” Kivun, 60, March-April 2008, p. 14).

Birnbaum’s voice is authentic and should be heard. His is not the only experience which says that “it is easier to remain inside the glasshouse.” Most of us, in my opinion, can also say that it is easier to remain “the other” than to break the glass and join “the brother.” Like Kaplan before him, Birnbaum is also being consumed by the tension between “the other” and “the brother.” Yet it is precisely this frustration which pushes him toward a solution. Listen to his rough, yet useful, insight: “The wall that separates us and Israeli society [them] must be broken. […] Do we want to continue building a new sub-culture here […] or earn the right to live here by becoming inseparable part of the people, by speaking Israelit? It is difficult; it requires some kind of revolution. Yet it is possible and it is important, because otherwise we will simply continue to be irrelevant.” In light of these words, let me quote the verse: “Out of the mouth of babes and infants, you have established strength.” “Serenity now” does not work for him either.

Shouting “we are Jews” is not a solution – principally because Messianic Jews are not really trying to engage in a meaningful dialogue, either with themselves or with the Jewish community, about the meaning of this phenomenon called Messianic Judaism. Moreover, although many are unwilling to give up their Jewish identity, by and large Messianic Jews are failing to translate this, admirably uncompromising, position into action. Generally speaking, they appear to be failing in their attempt to live a meaningful, recognizable, Jewish life.

Thinking about the Messianic Jewish attempt to dialogue with the Jewish world, I remember to this day an advert I saw years ago, maybe twenty years, in Time Magazine. A full page ad was spread with the appealing, smiling face of Baruch Goldstein (not to be confused with Goldstein from Hebron), who told the Jewish people something to the effect that: “Sure I am Jewish, and I celebrate Christmas.” More recently, on a CNN interview with Larry King, I heard David Brickner say: “I am one hundred percent Jewish and one hundred percent Christian.” In a recent symposium I also heard Messianic Jews referring to themselves as “Evangelical Jews.” Michael Brown is now writing his fifth volume of Answering Jewish Objections to Jesus, a medieval-style religious debate that begins with a lengthy defense of the Trinity. And more recently, in the case of “Messianic Jews” before the Israeli Supreme Court, ten plaintiffs insisted on defining themselves as Jews while basing their case on the fact that they are eligible to enter Israel under the Law of Return precisely because they are not Jews according to that law (“Steckbeck Against the Ministry of Interior,” Kivun (English edition, June 2008, p. 5).

Since I know that not everyone will agree that there is something wrong with this picture, I should elaborate on it further. Years ago, Edith Schaeffer wrote a book called Christianity is Jewish. Her basic claim is that Christianity began as a Jewish phenomenon, (and who denies that?) and is therefore Jewish. In a later article entitled “Christianity is Jewish,” Founder of the Christian Embassy in Jerusalem, Jan Willem van der Hoeven asserts that, although the title of her book may be offensive to some, it is historically true. Michael Brown, who is Jewish, also believes this to be a correct assessment, because, among other things, John the Baptist is the first in recorded history to be called “rabbi.” While these people are all well meaning, this doesn’t change the fact that they are also very wrong, simply because they choose to ignore the so obvious fact that Christianity was developed apart from Judaism and even in opposition to it.

I would expect that Messianic Jews should know by now that Jews and Christians have distinct religions. I, for one, praise God that they do because, with all the difficulties this circumstance entails, this development has maintained the distinction between Jew and Gentile. Any other permutation would have permitted the situation that if a Jew can be one hundred percent Christian, a Christian can be one hundred percent Jewish.  Turning to the issue of dialogue here, if this is where “the other” meets “the brother,” we should not be taken by surprise if “the brother” runs away (or attacks when cornered), because for him, the place of meeting is also the place of his death. Some may say that this is good thing since, after all, aren’t we told that “if we died with him, we shall also live with Him” (2 Tim. 2:11)?

Since we are emphasizing here that dialogue brings life, can there be dialogue between a Jew who celebrates Christmas and a Jew who doesn’t? Again, I would like to assume that everybody know that Jews don’t celebrate Christmas and that, at best, one can only argue that they should. The invitation to celebrate it must consequently come either from a non-Jew or a former-Jew; this, at least, is how Lloyd would see it (remember him, the lunatic from Seinfeld?). In either case, for “the brother” to accept such an invitation would necessitate that he departs from his life as a Jew. To insist that Christianity is Jewish is to insist on ending the dialogue, because for “the brother” it must mean that no place exists any longer for Judaism or Jews. This, to my mind, is even worse than the Augustinian gospel mentioned above, because Augustine at least had a purpose for Jewish existence. If Christianity is Jewish, it has no use for the distinct and different existence of the Jewish people.

When we consider the Messianic Jewish inner struggle, this can be demonstrated through the way Messianic Jews treat one another. The picture here is very similar to that of their external struggle. It is my observation that the Messianic Jewish community is severely divided due to two principal reasons: personal issues and theological issues, the latter being fundamentally Christian. We do not need to elaborate at length here on personal issues. With regard to theological issues, however, the “parting of the ways” – as opposed to just disagreements that at most cause a person to change congregation – lies in disagreements over Christian doctrine. That this is the case was demonstrated recently, when “Introduction to Judaism,” a course offered by Beit Midrash Hut Hashani, was announced to the wider Messianic community. The response of some to this announcement was that even teaching about Judaism, let alone practicing it, is an offense against the faith of Messianic Jews and therefore, must be condemned and rejected. There was even the insinuation that those who keep Torah should be excommunicated from the Messianic community. Such a harsh anti-Jewish reaction to a benign course proves my point – namely, that too many Messianic Jews judge each other according to strict Christian standards, and those who don’t measure up to them are viewed as having crossed over to “the brother’s” camp.

So in either case – inner or external struggle – dialogue breaks down on two accounts: the fact that in practice most Messianic Jews do not want to become “the brother,” and vice versa, because “the brother” refuses to become “the other.” Under such conditions, any attempt to pursue a meaningful dialogue is doomed to failure. Furthermore, the more insistent one becomes, the less chance exists for dialogue. Although open to different opinions, I for one think that “evangelism” as practiced today is essentially a monologue calling “the brother” to become “the other.” It is not surprising that the more aggressive missionary activity becomes, the less chance there is for dialogue. Not so long ago, as the result of indiscriminate New Testament distribution in the town of Or Yehuda, the backlash was an ugly display of the public burning of New Testaments (“sfarim al haesh,” Maariv, 20.5.2008, p. 10). Our inner conflict, our inner friction, produces sparks that causes “the brother” to burst into flame; nor should this be misunderstood as a justification of “the brother’s” behavior.

Part C: The Other Brother
I started this paper by quoting how Messianic Jews (“the other”) perceive themselves and how they are perceived by the Jewish community (“the brother”). Messianic Jews declare that the only difference between them and other Jews is faith in Yeshua: “There is only one difference between us, we believe in Yeshua.” Jews who have no faith in Yeshua insist: “[They] define themselves as Jewish but [practice] mainly Christian elements.” Giving such observations due respect, the glaring mismatch cannot be missed or ignored. Messianic Jews may – and do – claim that they are misunderstood. My position is that while this is certainly true, for the most part Messianic Jews have yet to prove (and the burden of proof is upon them) that “the other” and “the brother” can coexist peacefully.

Peaceful coexistence should begin with a self-acceptance that in turn leads to an acceptance of “the brother.” Self-acceptance means that Messianic Jews must come to terms first with the fact that faith in Yeshua alone defines Messianic Jews as “the other.” In other words, they can perform all 613 commandments and still be considered as “the other.” Paul was stoned irrespective of the fact that he was living strictly according to the “normative Judaism” of his day. This is certainly true concerning Yeshua, who was rejected despite the fact that according to the Torah he was blameless. The same fate awaited Stephen, Yeshua’s brother Jacob (James), and many others. Even when considered righteous by those around them, they nevertheless paid the ultimate price only because they followed Yeshua. I find it necessary to remind you of this because I fear that some people really believe that if only they do the right thing, if they “walk the walk and talk the talk,” “the brother” will spread open his arms and give them a big hug. I do not think that this is going to happen, at least not in the foreseeable future.

Such circumstances may explain why many Messianic Jews have given up on “the brother.” It may be said that Messianic Jews have every good reason to shake their feet and walk away – a course of action many took and are still taking. And who can blame them? After all, “the brother” has persecuted, discriminated against, ridiculed, and laughed at them for hundreds of years. He has treated them as scum and mortally damaged their reputation. Over the years, this hurt has been translated into a theology justifying separation. It is mostly for this reason that most Messianic Jews today are more comfortable in a Christian than a Jewish setting.

In light of these facts, although Messianic Jews do not often talk in these terms, the first step toward coexistence is forgiveness. Messianic Jews must find it in their hearts to forgive, including “the brother” who is within them. Self-hatred leads to a multitude of problems, all of which begin with the cessation of dialogue. Since this sounds slightly amorphous, consider, for example, the tragic fact that so many Messianic Jews hate the Talmud, even when they can’t differentiate between the Mishna and Gemara. Can it be that they won’t go near this book because for them it represents the ultimate representation of “the brother”? What other reason can there be to reject something which is completely foreign to them? I bring this example because this book has always constituted a thorn in the Christian flesh – as well as in the flesh of Jews who have departed from the Jewish religion. There is something about this book that forces Jews to undertake a self-examination. It appears that those who find the ability to wrestle with it, to dialogue with it, also find that they are better able to deal with the crisis of their own identity (and Jews in general suffer from an identity crisis).

If the inability of Messianic Jews to dialogue with Jewish sources is simply the manifestation of their inability to coexist with “the brother,” dialoguing with these sources means that forgiveness is manifested in real life. When this happens, meaningful dialogue with real people can also take place. Although for Messianic Jews it goes without saying that the Bible is the common ground where two Jews of opposite opinions can meet, the fact is (and protest will not help here) that the true meeting place is Jewish tradition. Whether secular or religious, to one degree or another Jews are living according to tradition and not according to Bible; (this should not be taken to mean that the two are mutually contradictory). So, for example, even Menahem Ben (quoted at the beginning of this paper), who cannot stop praising and glorifying the Tanakh, does so only because tradition has preserved the text and the Hebrew (letters and vowels included) as a living language for him. We can converse with Abraham and Ezra, Moses and Isaiah, R. Akiva and Rambam only through the mediation of the Jewish tradition. Such is life. And yet, it is precisely this fact that is most problematic for Messianic Jews, because embedded in this tradition is also deep resentment of “the other” (meaning “us”). To this day, as I have already noted, Messianic Jews have attempted to deal with this problem in two ways: estrangement and disguise. Estrangement by adopting non-Jewish life (becoming only “the other”); disguise by concealing and even rejecting Yeshua (becoming only “the brother”).

Today, however, neither of these options should be viable any longer, since in both cases, Yeshua becomes irrelevant for the Jewish people: concealment places him beneath Jewish life, while estrangement places him outside it. Therefore, as I have suggested throughout this paper, in order for Yeshua to become relevant to the Jewish people once again, the model for Messianic Jewish life is to live in peace as “the other brother.” I will endeavor to explain this term in practical terms.

Firstly, however, at the cost of sounding rather odd, changing models also requires replacing the self-adopted terms which define us. Although I know that even some of my esteemed colleges who sit here have invested much time in giving theological significance to the term “Messianic Judaism,” the expression has become tainted and unhelpful. The few newspaper clips quoted above are sufficient to demonstrate that Messianic Judaism is viewed by the general Jewish public as a Christian sect of converted Jews. Sadly, this situation is largely our own fault. In the States, the average Messianic Jewish congregation has more Christians than Jews sitting in its pews – in many cases 80 percent or more. By and large, Messianic Jews pray and live in the same way (Evangelical) Christians do. This is why they worship God in church-like congregations. In Israel, Messianic Jews prefer mixing Evangelical culture with a secular way of life. Thus they tend to emphasize secular values such Zionism, obedience to the State, and social justice while simultaneously sending their children to “Sold Out” retreats. Furthermore, the very use of the term “Messianic” indicates allegiance to Christianity, since it really serves as a euphemism for “Christian.” Attaching “Messianic” to “Jewish” means no more than “Christian Jews.” This is why Baruch Maoz, for example, should be praised for his consistency. When abroad, he refers to himself as a “Christian Jew.” In Israel, he refers to himself as a “Messianic Jew,” since for him the two are essentially one and the same.

In place of the term “Messianic Jews,” I therefore propose to adopt the name “hasidei Yeshua.” This designation conveys fidelity both to Yeshua and to Judaism (the people, religion, and culture). The first to suggest a somewhat similar name was Gershon Nerel, about eight years ago, although it seems to me that he no longer likes it. This designation inherently contains the idea of “the other brother,” since a hasid can be no one but a Jew, while Yeshua, albeit a Jew, signals otherness. The only problem with this name is that it doesn’t yield itself to nouns and is difficult for non-Hebrew speakers to pronounce. But a name, whatever it consists of, is of no consequence if it has no bearing on real life. So the adoption of a new name should indicate the adoption of the new model. I will now endeavor to describe this model in greater detail.

Messianic Jews have come to accept – at least in practice – that Judaism and Yeshua are mutually exclusive. This is why they shy away from a Jewish way of life. Hasidei Yeshua on the other hand, understand that Judaism cannot exist apart from Yeshua. Jews may laugh at such statement, but I for one believe that if it wasn’t for Yeshua, Jews would have not been able to survive. “I was not sent except to the lost sheep of the house of Israel” is Yeshua’s own testimony in this regard, and in light of it hasidei Yeshua say that Yeshua is present in the midst of Israel, even in their unbelief. This idea is as strange as the idea of God protecting Israel even in their unbelief. So the presence of hasidei Yeshua in the midst of Israel is a reminder, a testimony, to the presence of Yeshua in their midst. This is one of the reasons why “the other” and “the brother” cannot be separated, since separation means Yeshua’s departure from Israel – which in turn means that Israel has no hope. This, I wish to remind you, is not Yeshua’s gospel.

The presence of hasidei Yeshua in Israel’s midst also means that Yeshua is working among the nations. Although usually looked upon as something that happened only in the past, the nations of the world continue to receive light. Even if there is no one else left, Peter, Paul, John, and Jacob continue to speak to the nations and thus advance Zechariah vision of the day when “ten men from every language of the nations shall grasp the sleeve of a Jewish man, saying, ‘Let us go with you, for we have heard that God is with you’” (Zech. 8:23). The Church – and even Muhammad – understood the absolute necessity of the Jewish presence in this world (this is why, for example, the Church preserved those Jewish texts called the New Testament). It is time that present-day hasidei Yeshua also understand this fact, so that they will be what Jews are supposed to be: a light to the world.

None of this can take place, however, unless hasidei Yeshua can be identified as those who personify Yeshua’s presence in the midst of Israel. As I have attempted to show above, different reasons caused Messianic Jews to become Christian-like people. Whether the act was justified or not, by doing so they placed themselves – and Yeshua – outside the Jewish pale. Hasidei Yeshua need to find it in their hearts to forgive their “brother” so that they can live their lives meaningfully as Jews. This can only be done by living according to the unique covenant which God made with Israel. And since Jews are living out the covenant according to tradition, hasidei Yeshua should do the same.

Two objections can be raised against such proposal: since Yeshua came, Messianic Jews are not required to live according to the “Old Covenant”; and living according to Jewish tradition leads to a denial of Yeshua. As to the first objection, neither Yeshua, the Evangelists, nor the Apostles ever taught secession from any covenant, let alone the Torah. If they had done so, they could rightfully be accused of being “false teachers.” Further, the only mandate for Jews to live as a distinct people is found in the “Old Covenant.” Annulling that covenant means the annulment of Jewish distinctiveness.

Concerning the second objection, living strictly according to Jewish tradition certainly does mean to deny Yeshua. That is why throughout the paper I have emphasized “the other” as part of who hasidei Yeshua are. This fact behooves them to live critically according to that tradition, or in other words, to treat tradition as tradition and not as Oral Law. This approach will allow “the brother” who is within them to live with “the other” within them. It will also permit a restoration of the original sense of true halahkic life.

Some may still say that living as “halakhic Jews” – even in a limited sense – is only one of a whole spectrum of Jewish forms of life which today range from atheism to Ultra-Orthodoxy. However, considering the implications of what I have said up until this point, the options available for hasidei Yeshua are dramatically reduced when one considers that on the one hand they cannot live a secular life ungoverned by any covenant and on the other cannot live an Orthodox life governed exclusively by halahkah.

What remains for hasidei Yeshua is the option of adopting “transformed Judaism.” “Transformed Judaism” contains the two essential elements that allow “the other” and “the brother” to coexist. By using the term “Judaism,” hasidei Yeshua declare that they are committed to a traditional way of Jewish life. “Transformed” implies that they adapt tradition so that it can contain Yeshua. Transformation also hints at the supernatural power that circumcises the heart. It is this power which allows hasidei Yeshua to live out the tension between “the other” and “the brother” – to be loyal both to Yeshua and to the Jewish people, despite the fact that they continue to be rejected.

This approach is not without its own difficulties, since transformation can also imply “alteration.” Nevertheless, balanced and well-considered transformations should allow hasidei Yeshua to serve as that missing link between God and Israel which was described by the prophet in the form of the principle: “I desire steadfast love and not sacrifice, the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings” (Hos. 6:6). Contrary to the secular understanding of this verse – which perceives in it a decree to live according to the “ethics of the prophets” rather than the “ethics of the rabbis” – hasidei Yeshua can interpret it as living according to both sets of ethics. In the words of Yeshua, the principle sounds like this: “You tithe mint and rue and all manner of herbs, and pass by justice and the love of God. These you ought to have done, without leaving the others undone” (Lk. 11:42). According to this principle, while “transformed Judaism” respects tradition, it respects God more. It acknowledges that it cannot resolve the tension between them apart from Yeshua. Transformed Judaism recognizes that Yeshua is the missing link between “justice” and “mint” – and that stagnation awaits those who ignore the Person who lived out the tension between “the other” and “the brother” even unto death.

Is this the time when hasidei Yeshua will rise to meet the challenge by becoming “the other brother”?

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Footnotes