Going into the Saturday morning service, I believed one of two things to be true of Messianic Jews:
1) They were Jews who believed in Jesus.
2) They were Christians who still practiced Jewish traditions.
After the service, I'm more confused than I was going in. In two hours and fifteen minutes (which is a long time to be in a synagogue), Jesus was never mentioned. Not once. They talked about God a lot, but no Jesus. Or, if he was mentioned, I missed it, which means he wasn't a centerpiece of the service. (I know they use Yeshua, but I didn't hear that either.)
So … moving on.
For the first time in a long time, no one really spoke to me during my visit. The greeter barely said hello, and that was the only time someone addressed me. The main room sat about three hundred people, and it was probably about half full at its peak. People dressed business-casual, and many (but not all) of the men wore prayer shawls and the little Jewish hats. The congregation was mostly white, and there was a fairly wide range of ages. The service started a few minutes late, and as I mentioned, lasted over two hours. In all fairness, Beth Messiah did host a guest musician, Jimmie Black, who played for over an hour, so maybe this was a long service for them.
The service officially began with a prayer, specifically asking us to, “Bathe in the presence of Hashem.” I hope Hashem is God, because I knew a guy named Hashem, and I don't want to take a bath in front of him.
Next, worship began, and Beth Messiah’s version of worship is definitely unique. Once the music started, a dozen people went up front and started dancing. It looked like a Jewish two-step. Or, as I wrote in my notes, a Jew-step. Get it? Yeah … I was pretty proud of that one.
I actually liked it. The moves were complex (and I later saw online they have classes in case people want to learn the steps), so I didn’t participate, but the dance seemed lively. Nothing weird or goofy. It reminded me of what happened at Christian Life Center. Just a group of people having a good time dancing for God. The energy was definitely high during worship. It felt like a cross between a wedding, a church service, and a ho down. One woman even had a Star of David that she fashioned into a tambourine. Nice.
The third worship song was in Hebrew, and I must say, it was quite beautiful. Sometimes you don’t even have to understand the lyrics to feel the song’s soul.
What really blew me away was the fourth song, called Moshiach. In Hebrew, the worship leader sang, “V’af al pi sheyisma’mei’ah, im kol zeh achakeh lo bechol yom sheyavo.” To me, that looks like someone fell asleep with his head on the keyboard and woke up to find gibberish on his screen, but she made it sound amazing.
After worship, they transitioned into fifteen minutes of singing/reading prayers—first in Hebrew, then translated into English. There was Shema, V’a hav ta, Amidah, Kaddish, and so on.
For some reason, those ancient Jewish traditions were fascinating. The Catholic traditions never seem to resonate with me (maybe because I have more experience with them), but the Jewish rituals really had my attention. Especially the Torah Ceremony.
The scripture reading was from Numbers 25, but the wild part was the Torah Ceremony. First, two men walked up to a large armoire in the corner of the stage. (Keep in mind, there was praying and singing going on all throughout the process.) They took out a giant cloth covering with a royal crown on top:
Instead of taking the Torah out of its container, one of the guys carried it around the entire room. As he walked, people lined up behind him to follow (only like a dozen or so, and mostly children). As he passed people, they touched the cloth and kissed the hand that touched it. Because I was sitting in an aisle seat, it passed right by me, so not wanting to look like a sinner, I touched it, but I forgot to kiss my hand. Oops. Sorry, God. I did kiss my hand later in the service just to cover my rear end, but it may have been too late.
After everyone had a chance to touch the Torah covering, he took it back up front, and they removed the actual Torah, which was a huge scroll. Where does someone get such a large Torah?
Torahs-R-Us?
(For the record, I have never been prouder of myself. What can I say … I have a great sense of Jewmor. That one ruined it, didn’t it?)
After the Torah was unrolled, the process of reading the scripture began. I couldn’t keep up. A woman read something at the podium, then someone else read from a book, then someone else read from the actual Torah (all in Hebrew), and then someone else translated into English. The whole process took at least fifteen minutes to read a couple dozen verses from scripture, but it did sound pretty sweet.
My favorite part was when one guy was reading, and he said, “Gibberish, gibberish, gibberish, gibberish, gibberish, gibberish, gibberish, gibberish, gibberish, gibberish, Cosby, gibberish, gibberish, gibberish, gibberish, gibberish, gibberish, gibberish, gibberish.”
Wait, Cosby?
It was the only word I understood, and it was crystal clear. I thought someone was playing a joke on me until I realized he was reading the story from Numbers that involved Cozbi, a Midianite woman put to death for wearing crazy sweaters. But I’m sure Bill is also in there somewhere.
After the scripture readings concluded, there was another big ceremony to put the Torah back in the armoire. And that was it. No message, just readings from the Torah. The Rabbi went up front and did some announcements, took up an offering, asked new people to raise their hands (I decided not to raise my hand, but about seven other people did), and introduced Jimmie Black, a Messianic musician, who played a set for the congregation.
Mr. Black had a good voice, but his whole performance was basically another worship set. More dancing, more singing, and this time, a conga lined formed that sashayed right by me. A few people got down on their hands and knees to pray, and a couple of women up front started howling. I enjoyed the service up until that point. Nothing “bad” started happening, but man, it just went on forever. We already had about twenty minutes of worship, and Jimmie Black did over an hour more! It felt like the service was never going to end. I totally tuned him out at one point and just sat there thinking about the Church Experiment.
In the midst of the conga line passing a second time, and those two women still screaming on the floor, I realized I’m in box-checking mode. No wonder people hate church. When attending every week becomes a duty or chore, you’re bound to dislike the experience. As I sat there, annoyed that the music felt like it was never going to end, I desperately wanted to get through the service so I could get on with my life.
Church has become a dentist appointment for many—something you don’t look forward to, but you have to get a checkup, so you suck it up and go anyway.
But I don’t want church to feel like a root canal. I’m not blaming Beth Messiah, or Jimmie Black, or any of the other churches I have attended. It’s something that was probably unavoidable when I set out to visit fifty-two different churches in fifty-two weeks. I am having a difficult time connecting because I am disconnected.
But I think I have an answer … at least within the structure of the experiment. From now on, I am going to work harder to connect with people instead of simply visiting a service. Instead of waiting to be greeted, what if I introduce myself? Instead of bolting right way, what if I stay afterwards and talk? What if I invite someone to coffee? The Mennonite Church in Cincinnati has a pot luck on the second Sunday of each month. Mennonites, I’ll see you August 9 with my potato salad!
I’m gonna get myself, gonna get myself, gonna get myself connected! I ain’t gonna go blind for the light that is reflected!
Sorry.
I did enjoy Beth Messiah. The Jewish traditions were very interesting. It actually made me excited to visit a Jewish Synagogue to learn more about some of their ancient rituals. But Messianic Judaism definitely isn’t for me. Although, there was that conga line.…
Until next week, Shalom!
JOIN THE CONVERSATION
1) They were Jews who believed in Jesus.
2) They were Christians who still practiced Jewish traditions.
After the service, I'm more confused than I was going in. In two hours and fifteen minutes (which is a long time to be in a synagogue), Jesus was never mentioned. Not once. They talked about God a lot, but no Jesus. Or, if he was mentioned, I missed it, which means he wasn't a centerpiece of the service. (I know they use Yeshua, but I didn't hear that either.)
So … moving on.
For the first time in a long time, no one really spoke to me during my visit. The greeter barely said hello, and that was the only time someone addressed me. The main room sat about three hundred people, and it was probably about half full at its peak. People dressed business-casual, and many (but not all) of the men wore prayer shawls and the little Jewish hats. The congregation was mostly white, and there was a fairly wide range of ages. The service started a few minutes late, and as I mentioned, lasted over two hours. In all fairness, Beth Messiah did host a guest musician, Jimmie Black, who played for over an hour, so maybe this was a long service for them.
The service officially began with a prayer, specifically asking us to, “Bathe in the presence of Hashem.” I hope Hashem is God, because I knew a guy named Hashem, and I don't want to take a bath in front of him.
Next, worship began, and Beth Messiah’s version of worship is definitely unique. Once the music started, a dozen people went up front and started dancing. It looked like a Jewish two-step. Or, as I wrote in my notes, a Jew-step. Get it? Yeah … I was pretty proud of that one.
I actually liked it. The moves were complex (and I later saw online they have classes in case people want to learn the steps), so I didn’t participate, but the dance seemed lively. Nothing weird or goofy. It reminded me of what happened at Christian Life Center. Just a group of people having a good time dancing for God. The energy was definitely high during worship. It felt like a cross between a wedding, a church service, and a ho down. One woman even had a Star of David that she fashioned into a tambourine. Nice.
The third worship song was in Hebrew, and I must say, it was quite beautiful. Sometimes you don’t even have to understand the lyrics to feel the song’s soul.
What really blew me away was the fourth song, called Moshiach. In Hebrew, the worship leader sang, “V’af al pi sheyisma’mei’ah, im kol zeh achakeh lo bechol yom sheyavo.” To me, that looks like someone fell asleep with his head on the keyboard and woke up to find gibberish on his screen, but she made it sound amazing.
After worship, they transitioned into fifteen minutes of singing/reading prayers—first in Hebrew, then translated into English. There was Shema, V’a hav ta, Amidah, Kaddish, and so on.
For some reason, those ancient Jewish traditions were fascinating. The Catholic traditions never seem to resonate with me (maybe because I have more experience with them), but the Jewish rituals really had my attention. Especially the Torah Ceremony.
The scripture reading was from Numbers 25, but the wild part was the Torah Ceremony. First, two men walked up to a large armoire in the corner of the stage. (Keep in mind, there was praying and singing going on all throughout the process.) They took out a giant cloth covering with a royal crown on top:
Instead of taking the Torah out of its container, one of the guys carried it around the entire room. As he walked, people lined up behind him to follow (only like a dozen or so, and mostly children). As he passed people, they touched the cloth and kissed the hand that touched it. Because I was sitting in an aisle seat, it passed right by me, so not wanting to look like a sinner, I touched it, but I forgot to kiss my hand. Oops. Sorry, God. I did kiss my hand later in the service just to cover my rear end, but it may have been too late.
After everyone had a chance to touch the Torah covering, he took it back up front, and they removed the actual Torah, which was a huge scroll. Where does someone get such a large Torah?
Torahs-R-Us?
(For the record, I have never been prouder of myself. What can I say … I have a great sense of Jewmor. That one ruined it, didn’t it?)
After the Torah was unrolled, the process of reading the scripture began. I couldn’t keep up. A woman read something at the podium, then someone else read from a book, then someone else read from the actual Torah (all in Hebrew), and then someone else translated into English. The whole process took at least fifteen minutes to read a couple dozen verses from scripture, but it did sound pretty sweet.
My favorite part was when one guy was reading, and he said, “Gibberish, gibberish, gibberish, gibberish, gibberish, gibberish, gibberish, gibberish, gibberish, gibberish, Cosby, gibberish, gibberish, gibberish, gibberish, gibberish, gibberish, gibberish, gibberish.”
Wait, Cosby?
It was the only word I understood, and it was crystal clear. I thought someone was playing a joke on me until I realized he was reading the story from Numbers that involved Cozbi, a Midianite woman put to death for wearing crazy sweaters. But I’m sure Bill is also in there somewhere.
After the scripture readings concluded, there was another big ceremony to put the Torah back in the armoire. And that was it. No message, just readings from the Torah. The Rabbi went up front and did some announcements, took up an offering, asked new people to raise their hands (I decided not to raise my hand, but about seven other people did), and introduced Jimmie Black, a Messianic musician, who played a set for the congregation.
Mr. Black had a good voice, but his whole performance was basically another worship set. More dancing, more singing, and this time, a conga lined formed that sashayed right by me. A few people got down on their hands and knees to pray, and a couple of women up front started howling. I enjoyed the service up until that point. Nothing “bad” started happening, but man, it just went on forever. We already had about twenty minutes of worship, and Jimmie Black did over an hour more! It felt like the service was never going to end. I totally tuned him out at one point and just sat there thinking about the Church Experiment.
In the midst of the conga line passing a second time, and those two women still screaming on the floor, I realized I’m in box-checking mode. No wonder people hate church. When attending every week becomes a duty or chore, you’re bound to dislike the experience. As I sat there, annoyed that the music felt like it was never going to end, I desperately wanted to get through the service so I could get on with my life.
Church has become a dentist appointment for many—something you don’t look forward to, but you have to get a checkup, so you suck it up and go anyway.
But I don’t want church to feel like a root canal. I’m not blaming Beth Messiah, or Jimmie Black, or any of the other churches I have attended. It’s something that was probably unavoidable when I set out to visit fifty-two different churches in fifty-two weeks. I am having a difficult time connecting because I am disconnected.
But I think I have an answer … at least within the structure of the experiment. From now on, I am going to work harder to connect with people instead of simply visiting a service. Instead of waiting to be greeted, what if I introduce myself? Instead of bolting right way, what if I stay afterwards and talk? What if I invite someone to coffee? The Mennonite Church in Cincinnati has a pot luck on the second Sunday of each month. Mennonites, I’ll see you August 9 with my potato salad!
I’m gonna get myself, gonna get myself, gonna get myself connected! I ain’t gonna go blind for the light that is reflected!
Sorry.
I did enjoy Beth Messiah. The Jewish traditions were very interesting. It actually made me excited to visit a Jewish Synagogue to learn more about some of their ancient rituals. But Messianic Judaism definitely isn’t for me. Although, there was that conga line.…
Until next week, Shalom!
JOIN THE CONVERSATION
