My Valentine

This book, written by Tracie J. Peterson in 1997, concerns a 20 year old Jewish heroine named Darlene Lewy. It's a Christian romance novel set in the year 1835 in New York City, so the outcome is never in doubt. Lots of Hebrew prayers and Yiddish expressions pepper this book, naturally. Two Christians, Dennison Blackwell and his son Pierce Blackwell, come into contact with Darlene and her father Abraham early on in the novel. They have conversations of a theological nature from the very beginning. The Lewy family is Orthodox in their observance, observing Shabbat and kashrut and all the other strict religious traditions of Judaism.

Early on Pierce says to Darlene: "My father and your father have been discussing the Christian faith for some time now.... I'd be happy to enlighten you..." "I won't hear such blasphemy!" Darlene interrupted. "I won't be meshummad to my people."

Dennison says to his son: "You are a Christian, Pierce. You accepted Christ as your Savior at an early age and you've accepted the Bible as God's Holy Word. Darlene doesn't believe like you do, nor will she turn away from the faith of her fathers easily. Marrying a woman who is not of your faith is clearly a mistake. The Bible says to not be unequally yoked with nonbelievers."

Pierce's Aunt Eugenia is more concerned about social standing than theology. Pierce says to her: "I will marry for love, respect, admiration, and attraction, be that woman of Jewish heritage or not. I realize the importance of marrying a woman who loves God as I do, and if that woman should turn out to be a Jewess who embraces Christianity and recognizes Christ as the true Messiah, I shan't give her social standing or bank account a single thought."

Abraham Lewy's conversations with Dennison have caused controversy in the Jewish community. Darlene's friend Esther says: "I've heard it said that he's talking matters of God with the goyim.... [and] that there are talks of why the Christians believe we are wrong in not accepting their Messiah.... So has Avrom betrayed the faith of his fathers?"

Abraham starts to think that perhaps he should consider the claims of Jesus, and he begins attending church on Sundays (while also maintaining his synagogue attendance). He also shares his fear of death with Darlene and how that fear would be abated if he converted to Christianity and had the certainty of life eternal. Darlene speaks with the local cantor (Mr. Singer) about the matter, and he says to her: "He is a traitor to his people if he believes that Jesus is Messiah. He will be forsaken and there will be no fellowship with him. He will become as one dead to us and you will be as one orphaned.... He will surely perish if he turns from God. As will you. Will you become meshummad -- traitor to your faith and people? Will you trample under foot the traditions of your ancestors and break the heart of your dear, departed mother?" ... "Christians have sought to destroy us. They treat us as less than human and disregard us, malign us, and even kill our people, all in the name of Christiantiy. Can you find acceptability in such a faith?"

Abraham invites the Blackwells to share in their Passover Seder. At the end of the evening, Dennison and Pierce point out the similarities between Passover and Easter, and how Jesus was similar to a Passover lamb in his death. It is around this time period that Abraham comes to a strong faith in Jesus as the Messiah. He says to Darlene, "Today, I will accept Jesus into my heart.... These long months I have searched for answers to questions that have eluded me all of my life. The knowledge given to me through the Tanakh and the New Testament has answered these questions... It filled my longing and took away my emptiness."

Abraham says to Darlene: "I believe that Jesus came to save all people. I believe the faith of my fathers is valid and important, but falls short of a complete understanding of God's love and mercy. You must understand, Darlene, I do not throw away my Jewish heritage to take up on of Christianty. I am a Jew, but I also believe in Jesus. Darlene shook her head. "I don't see how this can be so. I've been taught since I can first remember that you cannot be both Jewish and Christian. I've been taught that Jesus is not the Messiah we seek, for if Jesus was Messiah why did He not set up his Mesianic Kingdom and restore Jerusalem?"

Darlene slowly begins to realize the truth of Christianity. Finally she makes the decision to believe in Jesus. One day she touched her mezuzah and "in that moment, it became more than an empty habit. In that moment, Darlene was filled with a sense of longing to know all of God's Words for His people. She glanced back at her father and felt a warmth of love for him and the Messiah she had finally come to recognize. "Jesus," she whispered the name and smiled."

Abraham dies in a tragic fire, and Darlene, rejected by the Jewish community for her newfound faith, is taken in by the Blackwell family. Despite rude treatment by Aunt Eugenia, Darlene comes to love Pierce (who had been struggled with being in love with Darlene almost the entire book, and who had been praying for her salvation, and who had been warned by his father not to marry out of the faith). Darlene and Pierce get married and live happily ever after.

Wandering Jude says: Par for the course when it comes to books of this genre. Oh, for some originality of plot, character development, and so forth!

The Unlikely Allies

In 2005, Gilbert Morris wrote another "love story" with Jews and evangelical Christians as protagonists. The Unlikely Allies, published by Bethany House, includes events from 1938-1940 amidst the Nazi invasion of Norway.

Rachel Mindel is the primary character, a young Jewish woman from Czechoslovakia, and the plot has her falling in love with a German soldier who she meets in Paris. At one point says to him, "My parents will be surprised when I bring home a goy." The author must want his readers to know that prejudice is an equal opportunity employer, because the soldier, Derek Gruber, has a somewhat negative reaction from his father when he tells him about his new girlfriend (but we don't hear any pejorative language equivalent to goy).

Derek is heartbroken when Rachel is sent away (along with her parents) to a concentration camp. Meanwhile, the main character of the book, Mallory Winslow, is serving as a missionary to the Lapps of Norway (but also secretly working with the Resistance). She takes into her house Abraham and Leah Goldstein, along with their children Thora and Abigail, and tries to sneak them into Sweden, where they will be safe from the Nazis. At night Mallory reads Bible stories (from the Old Testament) to the girls. Abraham says to her one night, "I've been waiting for you to tell our girls stories about Jesus. I know you are a Christian missionary." "[Mallory answers] "I've wanted to, but it wouldn't be right. It would be taking advantage."

WJ: Yes, it would.

Abraham says that "I can't reconcile the love that I see in people like you and so many of the Norwegians and the hatred I see in some others. So many of you are risking your lives, but there are others who are killing our people by the thousands, and yet they call themselves Christians. Carefully, Mallory said, "Not everyone who calls himself a Christian is actually a follower of Jesus."

Wandering Jude comments: Again we have the standard response to what we might call "the Crusades argument." The argument is that Christianity must not be true because so many "Christians" have persecuted Jews. The response to this argument, which Mallory efficiently articulates in 13 words, is that a Christian is not always a Christian. Which is true, sort of. But it's also false. WJ would say that a Christian is always a Christian, but a Christian is not always a good Christian. Nevertheless, Christianity cannot disinherit its bad Christians, just as Judaism cannot disavow its bad Jews. There may be something deep in the bowels of the Christian religion that sometimes leads Christians to become bad Christians. Ya think? (Like, maybe, "blood on your hands," "crucify him!" "synagogue of Satan," "den of thieves," hypocritical Pharisees, and other parts of the New Testament that seem anti-Jewish today, regardless of what the original intent was).

"Goldstein stared at her. "Tell me how you feel about Jesus." She was uneasy about coming on too strong about her faith in Christ, for this man was a devout Jew, but she knew the time had come for her to share her faith with him." [She quotes Isaiah chapter fifty-three to him, a standard missionary practice.] Abraham responds that Judaism teaches that there will be two Messiahs, one a suffering servant and one a conquering hero.

Wandering Jude wearies of all these debates about how many Messiahs, who is the Messiah, where is the Messiah, why the Messiah, etc.. WJ refers the gentle reader to Robert Levine's book on the topic. And let's leave it at that.

Our erstwhile German soldier, Derek, catches Mallory and others trying to help the Goldsteins escape to Sweden. In a very un-Nazi-like manner (he's one of the heroes of the book, after all!) he allows them to go free. Later, he meets a woman who knew Rachel Mindel in Dachau, and this woman shares how she led Rachel to Christ in the camp. She states, "God was with me throughout the years at Dachau. He set me free. But while I was there, I was able to share Christ with Rachel. She accepted Jesus as her Messiah and knew such joy!" The woman gives Derek a letter to him from Rachel, which states: "I have only loved one man, and that is you, my dear Derek. And now I go to meet God, and I treasure the time we had. God bless you, my dear. Serve Jesus and love Him."

Wandering Jude points out that not only is this sequence of events offensive to most Jews, but also that it's extremely unlikely. In this case, fiction is stranger than fact. There is only one thing worse to us Jews than the depiction of a deathbed conversion to Christianity, and that is a deathbed conversion in a Nazi concentration camp.

Later, Derek is given orders to arrest Mallory, because the Nazis have learned that her father was Jewish. All of these events converge to lead Derek to become a true believer in Jesus. Later, Mallory says to Derek (speaking of Rachel), "I'm glad she came to know Jesus, Derek. That should be a comfort to you. You can be sure she's in heaven now."

Wandering Jude wants to make a few final comments:

(1) Mallory Winslow in the daughter of American missionaries and ostensibly has an American passport. And the Nazis didn't generally arrest American Jews and do bad things to them, for a variety of reasons. So it really doesn't make any sense for the Nazis to arrest Mallory because her father was Jewish. But WJ supposes that it could happen....

(2) Derek becomes a "true believer." OK, nothing wrong with that, I guess. Anything that turns him away from the Third Reich is OK by me. (But it's unfortunate that Derek gives up his "racial" intolerance for a mild form of religious intolerance).

(3) Rachel is dead, but it is somehow a comfort to Derek and Mallory that she is "in heaven now." Again, evangelicalism promotes its attraction to "otherworldliness" and its distance from the importance of life here on earth; the sweet by and by versus the here and now. But how do they know for sure that there's a heaven up there, and that it is ruled by the God of the evangelicals? Doesn't seem likely to Wandering Jude.

The Beloved Enemy

Prolific author Gilbert Morris, who likes to write historical fiction, penned this novel in 2003 (and published by Bethany House) about a young Jewish woman who works in a New York City sweatshop during the Depression. The protagonist is Kefira Reis; her mother is Rachel, and her brother (serving time in prison) is Chaim.

Fairly early on we learn that Kefira's mother is dying. "The rabbi stayed for over an hour. He sat beside the dying woman and held her hand.... he had large beautiful eyes that reflected the kindness in him.... "I will be back. At times like this we must look to the Eternal One for strength." ... She knew that Gentiles were much firmer in their beliefs about the afterlife than Jews. She had once asked the former rabbi, who was an old man, if she would see her father again. He had been evasive and had given her little comfort. He had clothed his own doubt with words she did not understand and left her feeling more miserable than she had been before asking the question."


Wandering Jude has a few comments on the narrator's explicit differentiation between Christianity and Judaism and their respective views on the afterlife. WJ notes that, of course, religious understandings of the "world to come" were never monolithic in either Judaism or Christianity. But let's just suppose for a minute that Christians do believe in heaven and Jews don't. Does that mean that rabbis will always fail at comforting bereaved families? The narrator assumes that this is the case, but WJ wonders if maybe, just maybe, there is more spiritual nourishment to be given to the bereaved than just "pie in the sky."


As Kefira's mother is dying, her last words to her daughter are: "You have been a good daughter. Learn to love God for He loves you."


The first part of this deathbed exhortation sounds Jewish (compare it to the Vayahafta: "And you shall love the LORD your God...."). But the second part sounds Christian ("God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life"). Then again, who is Wandering Jude to question this vaguely religious sentiment? Perhaps the author meant it as a sort of harbinger of things to come....

Kefira says to her new Christian friend Josh: "It's my name. I don't often tell a goy what it means." "What's a goy?" "Somebody that's not a Jew." "Bubee? What's that?" "That's what Jews call people they like very much." "How do you spell it? Booby?" "No, bubee." .... She had persuaded Missouri to let her cook a Jewish supper... Kefira knew mostly Jewish recipes and was not sure how the family would like them." Later Kefira teaches the family some Yiddish expressions.


"She had never seen a family any closer than the Winslows, and their Christianity puzzled her. She had been afraid of Christians for years, but she had seen nothing but kindness and goodness in these people. I wonder if all Christians are like that. No, they're not all that way, because I've seen some that are cruel."

The narrator is setting us up for a "love them into the Kingdom" scenario. Just wait.


"Kefira was both intrigued and troubled by the casual yet fervent way Missouri Ann and the other family members spoke of Jesus. She had been raised among people who despised Jesus Christ, so much that some of them simply refused to say the name. The best friend of her father had turned crimson when he spoke of the Christian faith and insisted on calling Jesus "that man."

The logic here is: Jews hate Jesus. But Jesus was a good man. Therefore, Jews are wrong in rejecting the messianic claims of Jesus (and his followers). In other words, illogical.

After a church "testimony service," Kefira says: "They all believe so much in God." "Well, of course they do!" Missouri Ann said. "That's what a church is. Do you have anything like that in your synagogue?" "Not really," Kefira said slowly. "I've never seen anything like that."

Wandering Jude points out the implicit message here: Jews who attend synagogue services have no substantive spirituality, especially when compared to Christians who attend church.

Kefira and Chaim realize that at the same time that Missouri Ann had come into Kefira's room (at 2 am) to pray for Chaim, that was the same time that Chaim's almost-fatal fever had broken. Chaim says, "I knew God was in it, but I've never heard of anything like this before.... I've doubted God ever since I've been here... But now I don't think I can do that anymore."

Sounds like a coincidence to me, but who is Wandering Jude to doubt a miracle?

After reading parts of the New Testament, Kefira "wondered, How could a man love those who had beaten him with a whip? I couldn't do that! She read the story again, and the question came to her, Can it be true? Can a person be saved and have his sins forgiven? All she knew of faith was from her Jewish background -- there was nothing like this in her imagination.... She continued to read the New Testament, shocked at how hungry for it she was finding herself to be. She was fascinated by the character of Jesus of Nazareth. He was nothing like she had imagined. She loved the stories of Jesus when He met those who were ill and simply touched them and they were healed. She read over and over again about the prostitute He had forgiven, and how Jesus loved people no matter how bad they were."

Again, the reader is led on a path toward an anti-Judaism polemic. Nothing spiritual can come out of the Jewish tradition, we seem to be told.

"Josh had been very careful to put no pressure on Kefira, but now after sitting silently for a moment, he said, "I don't want to offend you, Kefira, but one of my prayers is that one day you'll know Jesus." ... "Why would you want me to be a Christian?" "Because I think everyone needs Jesus..... Jesus is all that held me together, Kefira. If it hadn't been for Him, I don't know where I'd be."

Josh is a good closer (in the salesman's lingo). He doesn't put much pressure on at first, but when the time is right....


Kefira says, "I've been reading about Jesus. There's nobody else like Him in all of history, but have I been wrong all my life? My whole family is Jewish. None of them believe in Jesus."



"Her Jewish heritage ran deep and the thought of forsaking it, which had occurred to her of late, gave her a pain in her heart."



After reading about Jesus' attitude toward women in the New Testament, Kefira is struck by the contrast (in her mind) between Jesus and other ancient and even modern Jews. She remembered that her father had told her "that some Jews, when they said their prayers, always added the phrase, "And thank you, God, for not making me a woman." He had shaken his head and told her this was wrong, but Kefira had never forgotten it."

It would take too long for Wandering Jude to respond to this canard, but suffice it to say that yes, there is such a prayer in the Orthodox prayer book, but it is culturally based, not misogynist. (And all the progressive movements in Judaism today have removed or changed this prayer). What the narrator fails to point out is that Jesus and Paul and all the other early Jewish Christians probably prayed this very same prayer each morning.


"Closing the New Testament, Kefira clasped it in both hands.... How she must have felt, Kefira thought wout a burst of emotion, when He said, "Thy sins are forgiven." And when He said, "Thy faith hath saved thee." ... She felt also a great void within her own heart, for she had hardness there against men and even against God for allowing her life to be so difficult. Now, however as she read of Jesus and His loving spirit and His generosity and kindness toward a sinful woman, she whispered, "How can I hate a man who does such things as this?"

Kefira makes a good point (about not hating Jesus), but she confuses embracing Jesus as a good man and as a fellow Jew with embracing his Messiahship. Two very different things.

"Oh, Jesus, if this is the kind of a man you are, I cannot hate you any longer." She did not know how to pray, for she had prayed mostly in formal patterns, but now out of her heart came the prayer. "Show me the way, O almighty and eternal God. If this Jesus is your son, make me to know it. That I too may fall before Him and weep as another sinful woman once did."


After several twists and turns of the plot, Kefira gets lost in the desert. "As the time passed, she felt the lostness of her spirit, and then she thought of death itself -- and what came on the other side of death. The Jewish religion had little to say about it, but she knew that Christians were very positive about heaven, believing that the moment they ended this life they would step into the presence of a holy God and a living savior."


"Oh, Jesus, I am no better than that woman. I'm worse than she is! I'm just a sinner. But I'm afraid, and I need you. I need you to help me. I believe that you forgave that woman's sins, and I bring my sins to you, and I ask you to forgive me. That's all I know how to do, Jesus." ... "I don't know how to become a Christian," she sobbed, "but I will do anything, Lord Jesus. Forgive my sins and take me to yourself." .... "Is that you, Lord Jesus?" she whispered, and then in the silence she heard no voice. But in her heart there was a peaceful certainty she had never experienced before, and she knew that she had found her Messiah."


Kefira says to Josh, "I've found the Messiah!" Josh stared at her for a moment, and tears came to his eyes. "You accepted Jesus?" "Yes, He came to me, and He gave me peace. And He brought you to me, my dear."

Thus ends this romantic love story, but Wandering Jude is not sure if the romance is between Kefira and Josh or between Kefira and Jesus!

Divided Loyalties

Divided Loyalties, by L.K. Malone (published in 2001), is a novel of suspence, espionage, and romance. It concerns a terrorist organization that appears to be Muslim but in reality is made up of radical Jews (mostly Israelis) who are posing as Muslims.

The two main characters in the book are Giselle Hardy and Raz Chayil; Giselle is a nominal Catholic and Raz is a Jew born in America to Israeli parents. Is Raz a spy, a double agent, or something even more sinister? I won't give that away. But I will tell you that by the end of the novel, Giselle becomes a born again Christian. Raz appears open to Christianity but it is unclear if he has made any decision in this regard.

Early in the book, the Navy chaplain (and evangelical Christian) Samuel Gilchrist tries to explain Jews to Giselle: "Jewish people aren't so very different from anyone else." Giselle responds: "But Jewish people believe differently than Christians do, don't they? I mean they don't believe in Jesus -- not as the Son of God, anyway.... Does that mean they go to hell when they die? Or that they think that we go to hell?"

Wandering Jude notes: It's kind of strange that Giselle, a Roman Catholic, would go to Chaplain Gilchrist, a Protestant clergyman, for spiritual advice. After all, there are generally plenty of Catholic military chaplains around. But it does serve a useful plot device; it sets the scene for Gilchrist to become the hero of the book. He seems like a moderate at first ("Jews are basically the same as everyone else"), but later his fundamentalist tendencies come through. As the reader will discover.

Giselle continues to learn about the Jews from Gilchrist, who appears to be something of an expert on these things (he says with tongue firmly planted in cheek):""But doesn't God love the Jews too?" Giselle asked. "Didn't he give them their religion too?" Samuel's heart ached; he wanted so much to see the light dawn in her eyes. "Yes, Giselle, of course he loves them too. In fact, Jesus came to the Jewish people first, and he perfectly fulfilled the law that God gave them through his sinless life, his sacrificial death, and his victory over the grave through resurrection. The first people who believed in Jesus were all Jewish, did you know that? Did you know that Peter, the man the Catholic church names as the first pope, was Jewish? Most of the New Testament was written by Jewish followers of Jesus. These men did not reject their Jewishness. In fact, the book of Acts shows that they continued to worship in the synagogues and in the temple, that they were zealous for their Torah, viewing Jesus as the completion of their faith." She stared at him. "Then why don't the Jewish people believe in him today?" "There are a lot of things that come into it, Giselle. For many centuries, Gentiles who called themselves Christians attacked and persecuted the Jewish people. A lot of Jewish people died horrible deaths with a cross being the last thing they saw. Jewish people look at that history and believe that the New Testament must teach hatred for the Jew, and that the Christian Lord Jesus could not have been their Messiah." "I don't blame them," she remarked."

So far, so good. Gilchrist seems like a fair-minded guy, with respect for all people and religions. He seems to know his Jewish history too. But wait! Gilchrist also knows that Giselle is the daughter of a high ranking admiral, and he must be discreet and move slowly if he is to win her over to his way of thinking.

Giselle asks: "Would God send a righteous Jew to hell just because he was taught all his life not to believe in Jesus?"

Gilchrist never directly answers this question, curiously enough.

"You're saying that I should try to convert him?" Samuel shook his head. "God is the one who changes people, Giselle. It's not your responsibility. I'm just saying that you might find this friendship gives you an opportunity to share Jesus with your Jewish friend."

Wandering Jude wants to point out that this is an essential doctrine of the Calvinist strain of Christianity: People don't convert people; God converts people. So just wait for the "opportunity" to share Christ with your friends, and God will do the rest.

Giselle asks Raz: "Do you really thank God every morning that you weren't born a woman?"

Now why would Giselle think that Raz, not an observant Jew in the least, would say this daily prayer that only hard core Orthodox Jews pray? Or perhaps it's just a subtle way for the author to diss Judaism? Nah! Couldn't be....

Admiral Hardy says to Raz: ""You're Jewish yourself, aren't you?" "I am." Offcially, anyway. In truth, he wasn't particularly religious. It was hard to believe in a God who could allow his people to suffer so much."

We hear you, man.

""You're Jewish, then," Mrs. Hardy deduced, frowning. "Our family is Catholic, you know." ... [Raz answers]: "I'm aware of that, Mrs. Hardy. Giselle and I have discussed the issue, and frankly, we don't think it's a problem." ... "What about your family?" Dolores asked. "how will they feel about your involvement with a Christian girl?" "I'm sure some of them will be unhappy," Raz admitted. "But my mother and brother won't object, and they're the ones who matter." "you won't expect our daughter to convert if things get serious?" He shook his head. "Nor would I be willing to convert, in case you were wondering. I can tell you what my ancestors were doing four thousand years ago, Mrs. Hardy. I've always been proud of my heritage. I won't turn my back on it.""

Way to go, Raz! You the man!

Near the end of the book, Giselle and Raz get married in a "non-denominational Christian ceremony."

Um, Raz! What happened to your Jewish backbone? Doesn't a Christian ceremony imply.....?? Oh, never mind!

Their first argument as a married couple is over Giselle putting up a crucifix in their apartment. ""If you can put up your mezuzah, why can't I put up my crucifix?" ... "the mezuzah isn't incompatible with your faith," he retorted, his voice tight with anger. "It isn't the last thing your ancestors saw before their throats were cut by Crusaders." She stared at him. What was wrong with him? He was usually very open-minded about her religion. He'd even attended Mass with her last Sunday."

Another character (Mared) says to Giselle: "Jerusalem is sacred to both Jews and Muslims. They both lay claim to the same block of land. The religious Jews dream of a day when they can rebuild their temple. The Muslims riot every time they try. How are they going to coexist peacefully?" "But why should it be so hard? Jews, Christians, and Muslims all worship the same God, don't they?" she protested. "Do they?" he asked. "Take a look in the Qur'an sometime. You'll find that Allah bears little resemblance to the biblical God." "Isn't it possible that God manifests himself in different ways to different people? Isn't it possible that he wants us all to live in peace, despite our differences?"

Wandering Jude answers this question with a resounding "Yes!", but unfortunately that's not the author's intent nor the point of the book. But WJ is glad that someone asked the question, anyway. [It does sound a bit like Rodney King, doesn't it? Can't we all just get along? I like that guy, despite his many brushes with the law. There's something ... sympathetic about him. Or maybe just pathetic. But I digress....]

Raz comes close to the gates of Christianity by reading the messianic prophecies that Chaplain Gilchrist had given to Giselle. After reading through these for only a relatively short time, he prays: "Jesus, I don't know if you're who Giselle thinks you are. But if you are, I'll pray to you, too."

And thus ends our little tale of Jew meets nominal Christian and both become evangelical believers, or at least one does and the other comes close.

Wandering Jude ends with these thoughts:
(1) An evangelist who seems moderate, thoughtful, and open minded is still an evangelist. S/he is still trying to change your religion. For better or for worse, that's what an evangelist does.
(2) For their families, is it worse for a nominal Catholic to become a committed Protestant or for a secular Jew to become a Christian? One might argue that at least they are living "spiritual" lives now. So there is a positive side to it, yes. But the negative part is, at least from a Jewish perspective, that their kids may or may not identify as Jews, and their grandkids most certainly will not identify as Jews. Say goodbye to Jewish continuity.
(3) There has been a lot of news lately about evangelical Christians evangelizing too much in the military. Free speech versus the rights of the minority not to be harassed or proselytized. This book sort of deals with those issues, in a roundabout kind of way. But in the end, free speech wins out. And Jews get proselytized. And so it goes.

An Israeli Love Story

Zola Levitt, who died in 2006, was a prolific writer of non fiction (mostly books about “biblical prophecy”). An Israeli Love Story, published by Moody Press in 1978, is his only work of fiction. (Though it’s debatable whether books on “biblical prophecy” aren’t also fiction as well!).

The back cover of the book (remember that it was published in 1978) describes the author as a "converted Jew" who "is presently a speaker and evangelist for the American Board of Missions to the Jews." In the 1980s and 1990s, Levitt started his own organization, Zola Levitt Ministries, Inc., based in Texas, and still in operation even after his death.

In a nutshell, here is the plot of the story: Isaac is an American Jewish immigrant to Israel. Rebecca is the daughter of a rabbi. They meet an Israeli "Hebrew Christian" (or “Jewish Christian” -- these terms are interchanged in the novel) missionary named Joshua who shares the gospel with them. Spoiler alert: By the end of the novel both Isaac and Rebecca are converted to Christianity and marry each other.

Here’s a description of Isaac early in the novel:

"Isaac had been raised in a Jewish neighborhood among Jewish people who lived out their Jewishness to a degree where it became a strange conceit. At a very tender age he realized that his family considered themselves to be the best of all possible races of people, but sometimes he wondered. His uncles almost boasted of their own emigration from Europe -- how they had been smart enough to leave before Hitler's rise to power, and how they had found the society and commerce of the New World hardly even a challenge. They were all very successful in business and the professions, and they almost swaggered in their collective accomplishments."

"There was a Jewish way to grow up in Isaac's community, and he followed it to the letter, all the while wondering if there were not other plausible ways to grow up. He joined the AZA, a boys' club of Jewish teenagers vaguely dedicated to Israel and the Jewish ideals; and he played a lot of basketball with curly headed, dark-skinned Jewish athletes who whipped any other ethnic group hands down, despite their lack of height."

Wandering Jude wonders if maybe, just maybe, Isaac is really Zola Levitt?

"When Isaac graduated from high school he looked like a "nice Jewish boy." Of ordinary height and build, with dark curly hair and deep-set brown eyes, he was the type of young Jew who faded into any Jewish crowd but would stand out embarrassingly at a Gentile country club. He had that slightly foreign look that Jews possess in every country, including modern Israel."

Wandering Jude makes a mental note that no blond or blue eyed Jews need apply to Zola Levitt’s Jewish country club!

Here’s a conversation between Isaac and Joshua, our missionary-hero:

"It's hard to believe," Isaac pressed on, "that getting into this Kingdom of God is so easy. Don't you know how hard our Orthodox people strive to please God? When did it become so simple?" "When the Messiah died," Joshua replied with brevity. "Oh, stop that Messiah business and call Him Jesus! You sound like a public relations man." .... "Well, I'm not the first to call Jesus the Messiah, Isaac. Our prophets did that long ago. He fulfilled our prophecy, you know. That would be very easy to show you." "Well, if he fulfilled our prophecy, why don't our learned men know it?" Isaac almost sneered. "Our learned men don't read our prophecy," Joshua explained, never losing the note of patience and sincerity in his voice. "If you decide to spend your life reading the works of men --the laws, the poetry, the traditions -- instead of the book of God, you can make mistakes. I mean our scholars no disrespect, and I know their intentions are good. But personally, when I read prophecy about the mission of the Messiah and His character, and then I read the life of Jesus, I see that they fit together, and that's all there is to that. Anyone will find the same thing.”

That’s all there is to that. Yes indeed.

We learn more about our Israeli heroine Rebecca:

“Rebecca's father, a rabbi, kept every Passover and said the mourner's kaddish every morning and every night, even during World War II. After he and his wife moved to Israel, his daughter was born. "In the next two years the rabbi maintained a real prayer life and communed daily with the Lord. He read deeply in the Law, and he studied the role of fatherhood from the depth of perspective of the Jewish sages."

The rabbi kept every Passover? Imagine that!

Levitt treats us to some interesting descriptions (fictional, of course) of Israeli society. First, we learn about Orthodox women:

"Wives of the strictly Orthodox Jews shaved their heads as an act of submission to their husbands, and they wore short, curly wigs and fancy hats in the streets. Rebecca had once been told that this custom prevented the Orthodox women from ever running off with another man -- the would-be adulterer would be turned off by the bald head."

Then we have a description of orthodox Jews in Jerusalem:

"They were proud men, each outdoing the other in the splendidness of the robes he wore and the piety with which he approached the God of Israel. But Rebecca was glad that her father, whose sincerity toward God was exceeded by no one else's as far as she could discern, had not opted for such holy trappings. He chose simple clothing, usually black, that more or less reflected his commitment without being overbearing."

Next, a description of Sabra (native Israeli) women:

"Far from wearing wigs, the Sabra girls let their black hair hang long and free. They were beautiful and graceful, thought Rebecca, who as an adolescent had been envious of their dark-eyed good looks. Her own more European-like features --soft brown hair, light complexion, less prominent cheekbones -- had always seemed somehow inferior, even less godly, against these more pure women of the land."

Wandering Jude wonders if poor Rebecca might not get into Zola Levitt’s Jewish country club. Apparently she’s not “Jewish looking” enough. But those Sabra girls. Wow. They really set Zola on fire, apparently.

But we’ve been distracted by these realistic accounts of Israelis, secular and religious. Let’s get back to the main point of the story, which is conversion.

"Any true follower of Jesus Christ loves Israel," Joshua answered quietly. "My Lord said that He came only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel."" .... "Jesus was certainly the Jewish Messiah," Joshua answered. "And the Messiah of everyone else as well."

That Joshua, he is certainly sure of himself. It reminds Wandering Jude of the old axiom, that if you say something often enough and loudly enough, it becomes true (for you).

""I have read the New Testament," the inspector said quietly. "I find no fault with Jesus." "Then why don't you come to Him?" Why don't you believe in Him?" Joshua asked with excitement in his voice. Was this Israeli actually going to confess Christ right here and now? Would he be saved, sitting in a police station? "I could never become a Gentile. That's something I could never do. I could never become one of them," the inspector quietly assured the evangelist. "But you don't become a Gentile when you believe in Jesus," Joshua told him, urging him to think deeply. "All of Jesus' followers were Jews. All His disciples and all the apostles came from our people. We founded the first church! We wrote the Bible! How could you possibly become a Gentile by following the Jewish Messiah."" The inspector responds: "I realize that the first Christians were Jews. But now the Gentiles have overtaken Christianity, and they have ruined it. ... I could never be comfortable with Gentiles.... Gentiles kill Jews. They hate us, and they have always hated us." ... Joshua responds: "You could worship with Jewish followers of Jesus right here in Israel.... You certainly don't have to become a Gentile to be a Christian.""

This exchange between the missionary Joshua and the Israeli police inspector goes to the core of why one missionary organization calls itself Jews for Jesus and why many converted Jews call themselves Messianic Jews. These people feel a fond connection to their Jewish heritage. They don’t want to feel that they have betrayed their people. They want to continue to be Jews, albeit with a twist. And it’s of course undeniable that Jews who convert to Christianity remain Jewish in an ethnic sense, as well as a cultural sense. Whether they continue to be Jewish in a religious sense is where the debate rages. Wandering Jude will not weigh in on this debate here, except to say that the consensus continues to be (in the Jewish community) that Jews who convert to Christianity cannot continue to practice normative Judaism. This is not to say that Messianic Jews cannot use the symbols and rituals of Judaism in their private and public worship. But it is very difficult for Wandering Jude to conceive of Messianic Judaism as the 5th movement in Judaism today (after Orthodox, Conservative, Reform, and Reconstructionist). Perhaps it's akin to Humanistic Judaism, which also has a marginal status among mainstream Jewish adherents. And perhaps it's also analogous (in some ways) to the messianic Lubavitchers (or "Chabadniks"), who see the Rebbe Schneerson as the Messiah. But mainstream? Not a chance. In reality it's a syncretistic religious movement that deserves respect insofar as it's adherents and leaders appear to be quite sincere, but cannot ever hope to be accepted by rabbis and synagogue members as a legitimate Jewish group due to a multitude of factors, not least of which is the sad history of Jewish-Christian relations.

Back to the story. Joshua the missionary appears to be making inroads into his proselytizing efforts with Isaac:

"Joshua had the secret knowledge that God's Spirit was working in Isaac's life and that this was the young man's real reason for consulting him. Joshua perceived that their interview had been arranged by God Himself; Isaac was being called to faith in the Messiah."

Wandering Jude wants to know what this “secret knowledge” is that Joshua seems to have. Sounds almost Gnostic.

"Joshua was unlike the rabbis Isaac had known in his youth. They had been remote, busy men, carrying themselves with the bearing of deeply learned scholars. Some were sensitive, kind men, it could be easily seen; but others were hypocrites, Isaac knew."

Yes, Isaac, rabbis are just like everyone else. Ministers, priests, etc., the clergy are made up of some wonderful people, and some hypocrites, but mostly those who could go either way depending on the temptation that faces them. Jews are like everyone else, only more so.

As the reader might have suspected, we now come to the part of the book where our missionary must explain to his potential proselyte about all the messianic prophecies in the Hebrew Bible. But he must do it slowly, so as not to push too hard, too fast. He must not rush the Holy Spirit or the potential convert.

"He could see that Isaac had been moved by the portion of the message he had heard so far, and that his heart was opening like a flower. But he would not pounce on Isaac, as if he were the opponent in a debate. People came to the Lord ever so slowly, ever so gently -- particularly Jewish people. Joshua could sense that Isaac was ready, but his moment of salvation was up to Isaac and the Lord. Joshua would merely continue to teach the Word of God."

The missionary describes his frustrations:

""Rebecca, Rebecca.... How stubborn you are! what a true daughter of Israel you are! Stiff-necked, arrogant... I have spent my life doing this, Rebecca. Arguing with my own people for their own salvation. It's not as if I'm paid for this or that I enjoy it so much, believe me. They practically spit at me in the streets. ... "Day and night I watch our peopel suffer, as we have suffered for so long. And I have the solution -- I have the Messiah! But will anyone appreciate what I have? Do they ever give thanks to God for coming here and being nailed to a cross? No, they want to be Jews without meeting any of the requirements for being Jews. They have no Messiah and they have no sacrifices and they have no Temple and they have no faith!" ... "And for centuries we have been punished -- for almost two thousand years we have been punished -- for this terrible mistake, for rejecting our loving God and His suffering Messiah, and it still never occurs to any of us, in our magnificent pride, that something is wrong! Well, that's not what God wants! That's not what we were chosen for! We are a long way from God, and we are paying for it."

So the story ends, as promised, with two conversions and a marriage. Ah, the "truth" wins out again in yet another conversionary tale. So why does Wandering Jude feel so sad?

Retribution

Retribution, the third installment in Randall Ingermanson's time travel trilogy, finds Messianic Jew Rivka, along with her husband, regular Jew Ari, still stuck in 1st century Israel. Ari continues to be resentful toward Christianity:

"Ari reached into his belt and drew out the small olive-wood cross and felt the old familiar rage well up in his heart. "This is precisely the difference between Christians and the Jew down the long centuries. Each believes HaShem has called him to his way of life. The Jew respects the right of the Christian to follow after HaShem as he has heard. But the Christian does not respect the right of the Jew to follow after HaShem as he has heard. The Jew allows for the possibility that the Christian may be a true follower of HaShem. The Christian insists that both cannot be right, and shoves his cross down the throat of the Jew." Ari slammed the little cross on the stone table in front of Rivka. "Yes, Rivka? This makes sense to you?" Rivka picked up the small cross and clutched it to her heart. "Ari, Yeshua sacrificed his life for you. Doesn't that mean anything to you?" "And what if I do not accept this sacrifice?" Ari glowered at her. "Moshe did not accept this sacrifice. King David did not. The prophet Eliyahu did not. Will they burn in hell for this failure? If not, then why would HaShem send me to hell for following him in the same way as these righteous men?"

In this interaction between Ari and Rivka, Ingermanson has aptly described the great divide between evangelical Christianity and Judaism. Jews long for pluralism and tolerance. Evangelicals seek salvation for all and only see one path. With apologies to Rodney King, can't we all just get along?

But later in the book, Ari finally sees the light:

"The cross. For all Ari's life, the cross had been a sign of rage. Christian rage against all Jews, Christ-killers, Jewish rage against all Christians, Jew-killers. The cross was the blood curse and the blood curse was the cross. The cross was retribution. But no more. Ari could never again see the cross as a curse. The cross was Baruch, giving himself freely for his friend, dying in despair because his sacrifice was refused, changing the hearts of all who saw, ascending in glory to the World to Come. The cross was life, not death. A blessing, not a curse. Victory, not defeat. Reconciliation, not retribution." "Deep shame welled up in [Ari's] heart. "Rivkaleh, I too have focused my rage on one man -- a good man who never caused the blood curse. I was wrong to blame him." Rivka's eyes sparkled. "You mean..." "I will think on the matter." Rivka threw her arms around him and wept."

To his credit, Ingermanson does not end the book (and the series) with an explicit conversion to Christianity. He leaves just enough ambiguity to allow readers of all faiths to be satisfied. Christians will be happy that Ari no longer denigrates faith in Christ and no longer hates Jesus. Jews will breathe a sigh of relief that Ari, though apparently now open to believing the Christian message, at least has not taken the plunge of full blown adherence to Christian doctrine. Of course, it's implied that he will believe in Christ someday, but that's left to the reader's imagination. And this is a Christian novel, so it would probably be unfair to require Ari to completely reject Jesus. Nevertheless, unlike many conversionary works of fiction, this one ends without an explicit conversion, which is satisfying on a literary level as well as a spiritual one.

Transgression

Randall Ingermanson has written a trilogy of "messianic Jewish" novels that are set in the first century. The first, which won a Christy award for best Christian futuristic fiction, is entitled Transgression, and was published by Harvest House in 2000.

A summary: Rivka Meyers is an American Messianic Jewish archaeology student. Ari Kazan is an Israeli scientist and somewhat anti-religious. Both travel back in time and meet various characters from the 1st century, including the Apostle Paul.

Throughout the book, Ari and Rivka have extended conversations about Judaism and Christianity. ""Yeshua!" Ari's face darkened. "That is a fraud. Why not call him by his true name, which is Jesus? You put a Jewish veneer on a Gentile concept. Perhaps you can sell it to American Jews who know nothing of thier heritage, but not to Israeli Jews."" Ari later says, "It is a lie to call a church a synagogue. It is a lie to call a Christian a Jew. Messianic Jews are an oxymoron."

Another interaction: Ari exclaims, ""You have heard of Constantine and his forced conversions? You have heard of the slaughter of Jews during the Crusades? You have heard of the torture of Jews during the Spanish Inquisition? You have heard of the strange love for Jews displayed by Martin Luther? You know about Chmielnicki and his pogroms? You think the Holocaust was an aberration?""

"Rivka ... had studied the history of Christian dealings with Jews, and it was ugly. Unforgivably ugly. And yes, there was reason to think that the Holocaust was the natural fruit of that history. But it had been sixteen centuries of persecution, not twenty, and long stretches in the middle had been marked by peace between Jew and Christian. Anyway, it was over now, wasn't it? Mostly over. The pope had even declared back in the sixties that Jews weren't responsible for the crucifixion. Evangelicals had gotten interested in the Jewish roots of their faith . The mainline Protestant churches were increasingly tolerant. Only fringe right-wing groups still called Jews Christ-killers. Things had changed. Mostly."

It all boils down to this: Rivka states: ""I'm a Jew who believes that the Messiah has come, and His name is --" "Wrong!" Ari shouted. "If you believe in That Man, then you are not a Jew.""

The novel is well written and believable (well, if you can believe in time travel). But there are a few minor inconsistencies. For example, Ari hates the Haredim but he prays to God and calls him "Hashem." Why would a secular Israeli pray to God and call him Hashem? And Wandering Jude has some questions about language too. Yes, Ari is an Israeli who speaks fluent modern Hebrew. And yes, Rifka knows some Hebrew and Aramaic from her academic studies. But will they really be able to communicate in ancient Aramaic with their newfound friends in 1st century Palestine? Doubtful. But, after all, this is science fiction, so we'll cut Ingermanson some slack in this area.

By the end of the novel, Ari has become more open to Christianity, but he has not yet converted. Oh, and not to give away the plot or anything, but both Ari and Rivka are now stuck in the 1st century without any way to travel forward in time to get back to the 21st century.

To be continued....