HaNotsri
10th January 2006, 12:37 AM
Hi all,
In the Simon Peter thread, Ivy and I were discussing the differences and ideas behind gerus (conversion) in halachic Judaism. Part of my testimony is that I spent three years in Orthodox Judaism pursuing an Orthodox conversion and lived in Chassidus-based/Ba'alei T'shuvah community. I was going to be m'giyurred (converted) in their Beis Din Tsedek. But a few months prior to mileh v'mikveh, I was reconsidered which ended up leading me back to Christ.
At one point in the thread I had said:
I was a couple of months shy of milah and mikveh before I decided to take a step back and re-examine my faith.
and then Tishri1 asked:
Can I ask what you were going through as this was unfolding in your life? If you don't care to talk about it I understand...
I decided to take some time out and give everyone a perspective of what I was thinking or going through at this time. I am sure there are many disagreements with my theology in this forum, but my testimony may give a little insight into why and how I think about some things the way I do. I am sure you have all noticed a touch of "Rabbinic" Judaism in my posts and theology.
Let's start out at about Thanksgiving 2002. That's when things started to really melt down as far as my conversion went.
I had been living in my community for about four months, but I had lived an Orthodox lifestyle for over a year and studying with a rabbi for just as long (if not longer). At this time, it was just after I had switched rabbonim and batei din. I went from a more Modern-Orthodox and Zionist Beis Din to a Charedi and Chassidische Beis Din. So I was in a period of transition. But I felt the Charedi gerus would have been more benefitial and acceptable the world over. After all, I was converting in the community of a rabbi of prominent Chassidische lineage (even at a distance, even today I am in awe of this rebbe).
I decided to go home for Thanksgiving. My family relations were strained. Especially with my mother. She is a very Christian woman, and while not a biblical scholar...she knows where her faith lies. She was not at all impressed with my decision to convert or my rejection of Christ. But we managed to keep decent relations.
I had to get my Thanksgiving Day meal catered by my local kosher food store. I couldn't eat what my family was making as it was all treif of course. So they catered it and wrapped thrice so I could cook in a treif oven. When it was finished and I had finished eating. I brought out my benscher and began bensching the Birkas haMazon (the Grace after Meals), swaying back and forth and praying in Hebrew. My mother couldn't handle it and left the table. It was at that point that my great-grandmother (being my mother's mother's mother) told me that her father's side of the family was Jewish. Though she was raised Lutheran (Norwegian). I never asked about her mother, though I could still if I felt the need. But I don't.
In any event, after founding out this information about my ancestory my resolve to finish my conversion quickened and was made stronger. I discussed it with the rabbi and my friends and we were all convinced it was my neshama wanting to return home, to return to its roots.
After Thanksgiving, my relationship deteriorated even further with my mother. We fought and fought. It finally got to the point where if I were ever to come visit for any lengthy period of time, I would have to leave that "Jewish" stuff at home. Don't misunderstand me, my mother IS NOT an anti-semite. Not in the slightest. She just felt her son was being led on a path of spiritual destruction. She wanted to keep her house and my siblings protected from possibility of further spiritual destruction. May sound weird, but it's the truth.
I was becoming more and more demoralized again. About a month after Thanksgiving, I decided to go learn in Monsey, New York at a yeshiva for a couple of weeks. I did a short learning and recreational program there at the behest of my rabbi. When I was there, learning Gemara and Torah with other young men of my age it was an amazing experience. I ate leil Shabbos at the house of a chasidic rabbi who was a descendent of the Vilna Ga'on. I was spiritually rejuvenated. One event in particular really help bring me out of a spiritual depression:
It was motsei Shabbos (Saturday night after Havdalah) and we all entered into a van at the yeshiva. We were taken about twenty minutes down the highway from Monsey to a little town called New Square. It's a town that is comprised and incorporated entirely of the Skverrer chasidim (incidentally whom has relations to my own rebbe's family). They were still in Shabbos as they were keeping it as long as they halachically could.
We jumped out of the van and entered into their HUGE Beis Medrash. It was pitch black. Though in the darkness you could see the swaying and moving of several thousand black-garbed chasidim. Our group saw a huge (I can't even begin to tell you how huge) tale with two sets of long bleachers on either side. There were about six levels to the bleachers and they were FILLED with chasidim. We got on the fourth or fifth level of one of the bleachers and listened. At the far end of the table we could hear moans and wails and cries of the Skverrer rebbe as he said Tehillim and was sorrowful that Shabbos was coming to an end. The chasidim all responded to the rebbe's cries in unison.
Finally, we saw little boys running down the table with candles and they began to light various candles around the Beis Medrash and on the table. The rebbe finally said Havdalah and all of a sudden the lights came on. And you saw thousands of chasidim on bleachers and around the Beis Medrash. They were singing z'miros and niggunim in unison. We all started dancing and singing, holding hands, jumping up and down on the bleachers. They felt as if they were going to tip and fall over, but you didn't care because you were singing praises due the God of Israel! It was an exhilerating time!
A couple of days later I came home, reality sunk back in and I quickly became depressed. I was out of money, so I had to go home and leave everything behind to work a week and half or so. Until school started. I worked and mom and I remained civil. When I came home, I received a letter in the mail from my mother that basically poored her heart out about everything. She talked about how much my father not being there (he being in and out of jail my entire life and being an alcoholic) affected much of my decisions in life (as i made pretty rash and poor ones before I believed in God). About how my experiences when I was a Christian that I had with the Holy Spirit and Jesus Christ were true and real. Just about us and our relationship. T
he letter destroyed any sort of confidence in anything I was doing. I was a few months shy of being m'giyurred and my confidence was drained. I didn't know what to think or do anymore.
Finally (when I got the courage), I went to the university library and checked out a New Testament. I read them secretly in my room (I lived with two Orthodox ba'alei t'shuvah) and after a weekend of reading the whole New Testament. I decided abruptly to leave my home in the community and return to my hometown. I was adamant about returning to the Church.
However, after being being involved as deep and rich as Judaism for almost three years, you really can't let it go just like that. I back slid time and time again. At one point I was going to move to Israel and finish my gerus in Kibbuts Yavne (north of Gaza). I was accepted to my program and was looking to go in September of 2003. But my mother and cousin were both stricken with cancers at the same time (well, a couple of months apart). After several attempts to return to Orthodox Judaism and several different spiritual roadblocks, I decided to for once let it up to God and let Him take control. It wasn't until after seeing the Passion of the Christ the first time that I could just let it all up to Him. Trust in His Son and His Truth.
My experiences have definately influenced my theology. I tend to be the middle man between halachic Judaism and Christianity. All the "inconsistencies" that one group points at the other, I can make good arguments going either way. I don't care about all the scriptural inaccuracies that people want to try and point out. I can live with them. Stuff like that doesn't bother me as it does others. It's just something you have to deal with. I know who God is, I know what He did, and I am everso thankful for it. God will rectify the division in the People of God (between Israel and the Church) when He chooses too. We are all brothers of the One God of Israel. The People of Israel will one day see Him as their King. And may we all celebrate Sukkos in that day on the Holy Mountain of God in His vary presence in the shadow of His Holy Temple in City of Jerusalem. Amen!
:groupray:
In the Simon Peter thread, Ivy and I were discussing the differences and ideas behind gerus (conversion) in halachic Judaism. Part of my testimony is that I spent three years in Orthodox Judaism pursuing an Orthodox conversion and lived in Chassidus-based/Ba'alei T'shuvah community. I was going to be m'giyurred (converted) in their Beis Din Tsedek. But a few months prior to mileh v'mikveh, I was reconsidered which ended up leading me back to Christ.
At one point in the thread I had said:
I was a couple of months shy of milah and mikveh before I decided to take a step back and re-examine my faith.
and then Tishri1 asked:
Can I ask what you were going through as this was unfolding in your life? If you don't care to talk about it I understand...
I decided to take some time out and give everyone a perspective of what I was thinking or going through at this time. I am sure there are many disagreements with my theology in this forum, but my testimony may give a little insight into why and how I think about some things the way I do. I am sure you have all noticed a touch of "Rabbinic" Judaism in my posts and theology.
Let's start out at about Thanksgiving 2002. That's when things started to really melt down as far as my conversion went.
I had been living in my community for about four months, but I had lived an Orthodox lifestyle for over a year and studying with a rabbi for just as long (if not longer). At this time, it was just after I had switched rabbonim and batei din. I went from a more Modern-Orthodox and Zionist Beis Din to a Charedi and Chassidische Beis Din. So I was in a period of transition. But I felt the Charedi gerus would have been more benefitial and acceptable the world over. After all, I was converting in the community of a rabbi of prominent Chassidische lineage (even at a distance, even today I am in awe of this rebbe).
I decided to go home for Thanksgiving. My family relations were strained. Especially with my mother. She is a very Christian woman, and while not a biblical scholar...she knows where her faith lies. She was not at all impressed with my decision to convert or my rejection of Christ. But we managed to keep decent relations.
I had to get my Thanksgiving Day meal catered by my local kosher food store. I couldn't eat what my family was making as it was all treif of course. So they catered it and wrapped thrice so I could cook in a treif oven. When it was finished and I had finished eating. I brought out my benscher and began bensching the Birkas haMazon (the Grace after Meals), swaying back and forth and praying in Hebrew. My mother couldn't handle it and left the table. It was at that point that my great-grandmother (being my mother's mother's mother) told me that her father's side of the family was Jewish. Though she was raised Lutheran (Norwegian). I never asked about her mother, though I could still if I felt the need. But I don't.
In any event, after founding out this information about my ancestory my resolve to finish my conversion quickened and was made stronger. I discussed it with the rabbi and my friends and we were all convinced it was my neshama wanting to return home, to return to its roots.
After Thanksgiving, my relationship deteriorated even further with my mother. We fought and fought. It finally got to the point where if I were ever to come visit for any lengthy period of time, I would have to leave that "Jewish" stuff at home. Don't misunderstand me, my mother IS NOT an anti-semite. Not in the slightest. She just felt her son was being led on a path of spiritual destruction. She wanted to keep her house and my siblings protected from possibility of further spiritual destruction. May sound weird, but it's the truth.
I was becoming more and more demoralized again. About a month after Thanksgiving, I decided to go learn in Monsey, New York at a yeshiva for a couple of weeks. I did a short learning and recreational program there at the behest of my rabbi. When I was there, learning Gemara and Torah with other young men of my age it was an amazing experience. I ate leil Shabbos at the house of a chasidic rabbi who was a descendent of the Vilna Ga'on. I was spiritually rejuvenated. One event in particular really help bring me out of a spiritual depression:
It was motsei Shabbos (Saturday night after Havdalah) and we all entered into a van at the yeshiva. We were taken about twenty minutes down the highway from Monsey to a little town called New Square. It's a town that is comprised and incorporated entirely of the Skverrer chasidim (incidentally whom has relations to my own rebbe's family). They were still in Shabbos as they were keeping it as long as they halachically could.
We jumped out of the van and entered into their HUGE Beis Medrash. It was pitch black. Though in the darkness you could see the swaying and moving of several thousand black-garbed chasidim. Our group saw a huge (I can't even begin to tell you how huge) tale with two sets of long bleachers on either side. There were about six levels to the bleachers and they were FILLED with chasidim. We got on the fourth or fifth level of one of the bleachers and listened. At the far end of the table we could hear moans and wails and cries of the Skverrer rebbe as he said Tehillim and was sorrowful that Shabbos was coming to an end. The chasidim all responded to the rebbe's cries in unison.
Finally, we saw little boys running down the table with candles and they began to light various candles around the Beis Medrash and on the table. The rebbe finally said Havdalah and all of a sudden the lights came on. And you saw thousands of chasidim on bleachers and around the Beis Medrash. They were singing z'miros and niggunim in unison. We all started dancing and singing, holding hands, jumping up and down on the bleachers. They felt as if they were going to tip and fall over, but you didn't care because you were singing praises due the God of Israel! It was an exhilerating time!
A couple of days later I came home, reality sunk back in and I quickly became depressed. I was out of money, so I had to go home and leave everything behind to work a week and half or so. Until school started. I worked and mom and I remained civil. When I came home, I received a letter in the mail from my mother that basically poored her heart out about everything. She talked about how much my father not being there (he being in and out of jail my entire life and being an alcoholic) affected much of my decisions in life (as i made pretty rash and poor ones before I believed in God). About how my experiences when I was a Christian that I had with the Holy Spirit and Jesus Christ were true and real. Just about us and our relationship. T
he letter destroyed any sort of confidence in anything I was doing. I was a few months shy of being m'giyurred and my confidence was drained. I didn't know what to think or do anymore.
Finally (when I got the courage), I went to the university library and checked out a New Testament. I read them secretly in my room (I lived with two Orthodox ba'alei t'shuvah) and after a weekend of reading the whole New Testament. I decided abruptly to leave my home in the community and return to my hometown. I was adamant about returning to the Church.
However, after being being involved as deep and rich as Judaism for almost three years, you really can't let it go just like that. I back slid time and time again. At one point I was going to move to Israel and finish my gerus in Kibbuts Yavne (north of Gaza). I was accepted to my program and was looking to go in September of 2003. But my mother and cousin were both stricken with cancers at the same time (well, a couple of months apart). After several attempts to return to Orthodox Judaism and several different spiritual roadblocks, I decided to for once let it up to God and let Him take control. It wasn't until after seeing the Passion of the Christ the first time that I could just let it all up to Him. Trust in His Son and His Truth.
My experiences have definately influenced my theology. I tend to be the middle man between halachic Judaism and Christianity. All the "inconsistencies" that one group points at the other, I can make good arguments going either way. I don't care about all the scriptural inaccuracies that people want to try and point out. I can live with them. Stuff like that doesn't bother me as it does others. It's just something you have to deal with. I know who God is, I know what He did, and I am everso thankful for it. God will rectify the division in the People of God (between Israel and the Church) when He chooses too. We are all brothers of the One God of Israel. The People of Israel will one day see Him as their King. And may we all celebrate Sukkos in that day on the Holy Mountain of God in His vary presence in the shadow of His Holy Temple in City of Jerusalem. Amen!
:groupray: