MessianicMusings.com

And so, we now wave goodbye in the Torah cycle to Yosef and move on to the book of Sh’mot (Exodus) and the life of Moshe (Moses). As an adopted child, the tale of Moshe has always held a bit of fascination for me.

Here’s a fellow born into a family of slaves, but through events he is unaware of most of his life, grows up knowing only the wealth and luxuries of life in the court of Pharaoh. We all know it happened, but how often does one take time to really ponder what it took for Moshe to walk away from that?

I mean, think about it. Food was plentiful. He could probably have married any woman – Egyptian or Semitic – he fancied. If he wanted to travel down the Nile on a yacht charter, he only needed to give the order. Life was easy, especially before he was anywhere close to an age where ascending to the throne was in the picture. Even then, the responsibilities of a Pharaoh were nothing strenuous compared to the duties of a Hebrew slave.

The B’rit haDashah book of Messianic Jews (Hebrews) calls this “forsaking the pleasures of sin for a season” and goes on to say that such selflessness was credited to him as righteousness. Yet does enjoying the only life you’ve ever known, a life of luxury, really qualify as sin? Say, on the same level as murder?

For most, perhaps not. But Moshe had a call on his life from haShem. To ignore that call? Sure, it would have been sin. But if one takes time to contemplate just how hard it was to walk away from all that, only then can one appreciate just how much Moshe gave up and how it could be “credited to him as righteousness” in the eyes of haShem.

Moshe is fascinating. I’m certainly glad to be digging into his life once again in the Torah cycle.

Thanks to the desire of most archaeologists to go beyond the limitations of their science to draw broad, unfounded conclusions, most of the world now believes that key figures in Torah history never really existed. They want hard evidence, which is what science is about, but in the absence of it, they step too far by concluding that something never happened.

Take Yosef, for example. In his book The Exodus Case, Dr. Lennart Moller advances the theory that the character the Torah calls Yosef, son of Ya’akov (Yisrael), is one and the same person as the fellow the Egyptians called Imhotep. Of course, the only way to prove it would be to have a CSI team come in with their DNA testing equipment and compare the remains of Yosef to the remains of Imhotep.

There’s only one catch. The ancient Hebrews took Yosef’s body and buried it in a mystery location, far away from his initial Egyptian tomb. The body of Imhotep has also never been found and is believed to have “gone missing” not very long after his death. So the two stories fit, but there’s only coincidence and faith to support the linkage on that point.

Yet, in the absence of hard evidence, forensic archaeologists would say, “There was no Yosef, there was no Imhotep.” A more responsible approach would be to say, “There’s no hard, scientific evidence by which we can prove or disprove this theory.” But such humility is rare in the field.

Sometimes the path I’m on seems awfully egotistical. Especially when I bump up against my own human failings. Who am I to think I’m qualified to teach anything about God to anyone?

Frankly, those moments of doubt comfort me. If they were to go away, then I’d have reason to worry. Becoming a pastor, teacher or rabbi is heady stuff. I mean that in the intellectual sense, not the “gee, this is a thrill” sense.

It’s dangerous, I think, to spend too much time studying and “inside your head.” It leads to feelings of superiority, especially intellectual superiority. And that’s dangerous.

Sheltered away in a cozy study, surrounded by books and Torahs, contemplating God, it’s easy to feel you’ve got a handle on life, spirituality and haShem. It’s life among others that roughs you up, exposes your human failings, reveals that you need Y’shua.

To anyone who thinks they have mastered patience, gentleness and self-control, I offer this challenge: drive in rush hour and see how long it lasts. I think we need that human interaction – as messy as it can be sometimes – to keep us humble enough to know that whatever we know, we don’t even come close to knowing it all. Let along putting it into practice.

If our souls were computers, we’d clearly be in need of circuit board repair, every one of us. Will going down the path of becoming a messianic rabbi cause me to lose that perspective? I hope not.

As we’re working through the life of Yosef in the parashah readings, the question that keeps occurring to me is why Yosef takes so long to reveal his identity to his brothers, who clearly don’t recognize him after 20-plus years of separation and believing him to be lost. Sure, the official answer is that Yosef was testing them, to see if they’d changed and truly repented of what they’d done to him. And that makes sense as far as it goes.

And the messianic addendum to that also makes sense as far as it goes. That Yosef is a foreshadowing of the Messiah Y’shua, who was not recognized by most of his people at the time he first appears to them. But I’m talking about the human level of the story, not the spiritual.

But think about it. A seven-year famine has overtaken the land. His father and brothers are suffering under it. Their lives are at stake and they don’t even have the benefit of disaster kits to help them through it, the way people of our time might. So with that in mind, why drag it out quite so long?

I mean, sure, he makes certain after they come to him that they’re taken care of. He provides them with food and even stashes their money back in the bags containing the grain. But even after the second visit, he doesn’t reveal himself until he pulls the same stunt again and make them fear for the safety of their youngest brother, Binyamin.

It all turns out quite well in the end. But I remain puzzled by Yosef’s motives. That’s the great thing about Torah, though. You become convinced it is historically true because those whose lives are chronicled in it do not act ideally. Their lives are puzzling, contradictory and full of questions. That’s the beauty of it.

One of the more intimidating challenges of contemplating becoming a messianic rabbi is having to learn Hebrew. It’s not that Hebrew is particularly more challenging than any other language… it’s just that the thought of learning a new language at age 40 is kind of intimidating in and of itself. Enough so that it almost makes me want to retreat to some quiet stretch of land, a piece of Blue Ridge real estate where I can enjoy the peace and quiet and not worry about my ability to tell the difference between a vav and a nun soffit.

But so far, it’s not been as hard as I’ve worried. I am about six lessons into a program that’s teaching me the aleph-bet, and so far I’m … managing. Of course, I won’t be close to being competent for a while, considering I have half the aleph-bet to go yet, but at least I’m hanging in there. That’s better than I did in college, when I made through only a semester and a half of German before bombing out, although I did barely survive one year of Spanish.

Maybe the fact that it’s an entirely different aleph-bet is making the difference. I’m just glad to be grasping it, to this point!

This is a sticky topic for me, as I have several friends who are Catholic and have shown no ill will or judgment against me as a messianic. I believe that the majority of Catholics are not that familiar with church history or what their church actually believes.

That being said, history is history and the roots of antisemitism in the Catholic Church are not hidden; in fact, they are relatively easy to find. One of the points of origin for antisemitism in the Catholic Church – the attitudes of which were by and large never dismissed from protestant Christianity and are still practiced to this day – became documented in A.D. 365, at the Council of Laodicea.

Of the 60 canons of that council, nearly all are still observed in full force in today’s Roman Catholic church and in most protestant, evangelical and charismatic Christian congregations.

Three of the canons leap out as particularly antisemitic. They include:

Canon 29

Christians must not judaize by resting on the Sabbath, but must work on that day, rather honoring the Lord’s Day; and, if they can, resting then as Christians. But if any shall be found to be judaizers, let them be anathema from Christ.

Canon 37

It is not lawful to receive portions sent from the feasts of Jews or heretics, nor to feast together with them.

Canon 38

It is not lawful to receive unleavened bread from the Jews, nor to be partakers of their impiety.

[Source: Canons of the Council of Laodicea, A.D. 365. Emphasis added.]

Regarding Canon 29:

The command of haShem is clear on this. I quote from Sh’mot (Exodus) 20:8-11 from the CJV/Stern edition:

“Remember the day, Shabbat, to set it apart for God. You have six days to labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a shabbat for Adonai your God. On it, you are not to do any kind of work – not you, your son or your daughter, not your male or female slave, not your livestock, and not the foreigner staying with you inside the gates of your property. For in six days, Adonai made heave and earth, the sea and everything in them; but on the seventh day he rested. This is why Adonai blessed the day, Shabbat, and separated it for himself.”

This is backed up in B’resheet (Genesis) 2:2-3, also from the CJV/Stern:

“On the seventh day God was finished with his work which he had made, so he rested on the seventh day from all his work that he had made. God blessed the seventh day and separated it as holy; because on that day God rested from all his work which he had created, so that it itself could produce.”

I could produce reams on this topic, but let’s be brief for now. The bottom line is that even the Catholic church agrees that the seventh day is Saturday. The Council of Laodicea even agrees with that much:

Canon 16

The Gospels are to be read on the Sabbath [i.e. Saturday], with the other Scriptures.

While many argue that Sunday is the appropriate day to hold worship, that is not haShem’s opinion. Some will say that it is celebrated because Y’shua rose from the dead on Sunday, making it the new Shabbat. Others will claim the Apostles of Y’shua changed the Shabbat.

None of these arguments are supported in the Torah nor in the Brit haDashah (New Testement). The truth of the matter is that the Coucil of Laodicea made these changes as a way of separating the Christianity movement from its Hebrew roots. There are many other examples, and while honest Christian scholars, Catholic and otherwise, will agree that the Shabbat is on Saturday, not Sunday, no one dares to challenge the practice of dishonoring haShem’s shabbat, but continue with Sunday worship.

This makes Sunday worship on the same moral equivalent as Christmas and Easter, since Sunday worship has its origins in Egyptian Ishtar and Greco-Roman Mithras cultic worship traditions.

Regarding Canons 37 and 38:

These mostly speak for themselves, making it clear that the Jewish community, and Torah-observant messianics by merit of their nonobservance of these canons, are no better in the eyes of the Catholic Church than heretics and other godless people.

This is a deep subject and I’ve only scratched a portion of the surface. More on this another time.

One of the controversial things about pursuing ordination is that it really is a calling for folks who believe the Torah to be true. That gets harder and harder for some as we see fewer genuine believers and more intellectuals ordained. It’s also harder in the face of what is generally presented as “scientific fact” by unbelieving archaeologists and other scientists.

Listen to those who don’t believe for long, and there’s not much in the Torah they would claim is fictionalized. But archeology is not the type of science that can really, ultimately disprove anything; the only two conclusions archaeologists can legitimately reach are, 1) We have found evidence that supports the Biblical claims, or, 2) We have not yet found evidence in support of the Biblical claims.

Now, that’s a controversial statement. After all, folks like Israel Finklestein would argue that the lack of evidence constitutes a proof that something didn’t happen. For example, in his work, he claims that there was no city of Jerusalem at the time of David and Solomon. But the basis for his claim is a lack of evidence, not strong dispositive evidence. It all comes down to an archaeological precept upon which their whole science is built … layering. But that’s a discussion for another time.

The point is, the problem with making “this never happened” statements in archeology is that quite often, someone will discover that they were looking in the wrong place, and once they look somewhere else, there is plenty of positive evidence and theories have to be completely rewritten and thrown out, while over the course of centuries, the Torah has remained both consistent and largely not disproven, only doubted for a while.

Recently, I discovered a book that is both solid from a scientific standpoint, as well as being a real faith-builder when it comes to the historicity of the Torah. That book is The Exodus Case by Dr. Lennart Moller. It’s a book I’ve studied and will continue to study for some time to come; the theories it presents are fascinating, though not without controversy. And the man is humble enough to admit his book presents a possible theory, not 100-percent guaranteed proof.

As I was making my way through the Torah portion this week, my mind turned back to the book. We’re going through the life of Yosef, the favored son of Yaakov, who, it is said, was sold into slavery in Egypt, rose to be second-in-command only to Pharoah himself, and saved his family from a great famine and likely annihiliation.

Moller’s theory is that Yosef had a real place in Egyptian history, and makes a solid case for him to be a rather famous figure: Imhotep. Now, at first blush, it’s a hard one to swallow. After all, Imhotep was a figure of vast importance in Egyptian history, and volumes have been written about him, all assuming he was Egyptian. That’s a lot of scholarship to fly in the face of.

But Moller lays out reams of intriguing parallels, including (but certainly not limited to):

1) Imhotep was a minister of the pharaoh of lower Egypt. That fits the role Yosef played.

2) Imhotep was “foremost under the king.” Yosef is said to be second only in power and authority to pharaoh.

3) Imhotep was believed to be a priest in Heliopolis; Yosef is said to have married the daughter of the priest of Heliopolis and it is not unlikely that he inherited that title through marriage.

4) Both were active during seven years of plenty and seven years of famine, and both were said to have predicted it according to the dreams of pharaoh.

5) Both die at the precise age of 110.

These are just five of at least 27 points of parallel outlined in Moller’s book. The whole proposition makes me want to study more deeply into the life of Imhotep, to see if such a theory could hold water alongside prior scholarship on the life of Imhotep.

One thing both Imhotep and Yosef were is builders. Yosef is known, at the very least, to have built storehouses for the grain collected during the time of plenty, in preparation for the time of famine. And Imhotep is known to have been a great builder, creating the first-ever cut-stone pyramid in Egyptian history.

While not going so far as to say that Yosef/Imhotep sat around Egypt offering up house painting ideas like the house painting pros at CertaPro, it is nevertheless an interesting parallel to draw on. With 27 or more points of parallel, it’s at least a theory worthy of serious consideration. Imagine what fun it would be to discover it’s true! Not only did Yosef exist, but he was a substantial and known figure in Egyptian history! Food for thought.

I know this story has some age on it now, especially in the whiz-bang world of the Web, but a week or two ago, the leaders of the conservative Jewish movement in America got together and decided that it was OK for them to ordain gay rabbis and perform same-sex union ceremonies.

Hey, they’re not the first to do it and likely won’t be the last. Many “mainline” Christian denominations have been doing it for decades. But that makes it no less disappointing. You would think folks who take Torah seriously would know a bit more about, well, the Torah. Because as part of their declaration, these leaders said they found nothing in Torah that would forbid it.

I guess they missed the part of the Torah called… the Torah. For example:

You are not to go to bed with a man as with a woman; it is an abomination. Vayikra (Leviticus) 18:22 (CJV/Stern)

Or, even more explicitly:

If a man goes to bed with a man as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination; they must be put to death; their blood is on them. Vayikra (Leviticus) 20:13 (CJV/Stern)

Now, no one is suggesting the death penalty for homosexuals or lesbians. The penalty was a command of haShem specifically for Jews living in the land of Israel at that time. We live in a more tolerant age.

But does tolerance always have to mean surrendering all values and giving oneself over to the ways of the world? I support “live and let live” as a guiding principle of life, but that doesn’t mean we must throw the Torah out completely.

The Torah represents a minimum standard of behavior necessary to find a lack of condemnation in the eyes of haShem. We should all be striving to live above and beyond that minimum standard, as did Yeshua. So I just don’t get where anyone can look at the Torah and say there’s nothing in it that conflicts with so-called “gay marriage” and “gay ordination.” The fact is, the Torah does conflict with it. If one chooses to ignore the Torah, fine… but be honest about it.

Of course, it’s somewhat easy to pick on the gay and lesbian community; it helps people of deep faith in haShem, his messiah Yeshua and the Torah avoid looking at their own sin. The point is, none of us should ever grow so complacent in our sin that we demand to be accepted… even ordained… in spite of it. While many of us, gay or straight, have sins we have given up on or let slide in our lives, the call of the Torah is to stand by its truths even when it makes us personally uncomfortable.

For it is when we are uncomfortable that we become aware of the sin in us, the ways we fall short of haShem’s perfect standard, and thus, our need for Yeshua. Only through struggle and repentance, though, can we work toward holiness … not through excuse-making, no matter what sin we struggle with.

When I was growing up in a Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod home in southern Minnesota, there was no way I could have foreseen where I am today. As I write this first post, I have begun the process of learning Hebrew and am looking forward to the new year, 2007, when I will begin a two-year process of training to possibly become a messianic rabbi … or messianic minister, if you prefer.

It’s been a long journey. My religious convictions began to change in college, when I became “born again” through Campus Crusade for Christ. After trying to stay in the LCMS but finding it incompatible with my new beliefs, I floated for many years, trying new churches on for size.

I’ve attending everything from Assembly of God to Evengelical Free to Southern Baptists and General Baptist Conference to Christian Missionary Alliance Churches. They were all pleasant, all part of a growing experience, but none felt like home.

Until I came across the messianic movement. I’ve been a Torah-observant follower of Messiah Yeshua for around seven or eight years now. It hasn’t always been easy. But now that I find myself headed down this path of possibly becoming ordained someday, I really wanted a place to put down my thoughts on the matter, whether they relate to that journey or seem to stray way off topic.

Come along with me! I’m sure I’ll write plenty more in the years ahead.