I am so thrilled to introduce you to this month's guest on Journey With! Dear Joanne is one of my favorite people...she is such an encourager and loves her friends so much...I am so blessed to call her friend! :o) I found Joanne's post so great for this last month of the year as most people start researching Judaism because of Hanukkah and Christians set aside a day to celebrate our Savior. So enjoy part of Joanne's journey today with these two elements....
I didn’t have much experience with Christianity as a kid. I was Jewish, Bat Mitzvahed at 13, born and raised in Los Angeles. Though my high school wasn’t closed for Jewish holidays, a quarter of the students were absent for the High Holy Days.
My father was raised an orthodox Jew; my maternal grandfather was a former cantor; my great aunt still kept kosher. My Jewish roots ran deep, and were important to me.
I do remember, however, my first church service. I was eight, and we were visiting my aunt and her family. I don’t remember too much, but I recall the pastor saying something disparaging about Jews, causing me to run out, quite upset. I did not enter a church again for 10 years.
The next one was Catholic. I was in college, dating a Catholic who brought me to Mass. I remember looking up at the front of the church, seeing the crucifix, and feeling more uncomfortable than I ever had before. I kept my eyes down for the rest of the service. That cross haunted me for quite a while.
I had other minor "encounters" with Christianity, but it wasn’t until I was married and living in the Midwest twelve years later that the cross grabbed my attention again.
My husband was nominally Jewish and we both followed our faith for a while. We soon stopped attending synagogue, however, neither of the local ones being to our liking. We still celebrated the major holidays, but nothing more.
I was working as a freelance writer for the local daily paper, and the religion editor called and asked if I would cover a Christian women’s conference the following Saturday. I agreed skeptically, assuming it would be a bunch of fake, mushy women screaming "Hallelujah" and praising God for their wonderful lives.
Was I ever wrong.
The moment I walked into the arena, I felt a camaraderie among the women there, and a peace I simply couldn’t explain. The speakers, who I normally would have dismissed as hokey, resonated with me, and I felt myself filled with the same camaraderie and peace as those around me. I didn’t want to leave.
Unfortunately, I had no choice - I had a deadline to meet! And, as I left the building to walk the three blocks to the newspaper office, I felt that peace leave me just as suddenly as it arrived.
A myriad of questions ran through my mind.
What did those women have that I didn’t?
Could I find that kind of peace in Judaism if I was more devout, or was this a Christian phenomenon?
I decided I needed to start this quest of mine with my own faith. I found my copy of the Hebrew Bible and read the entire Old Testament from beginning to end in two weeks. I also typed out about 20 pages of notes.
Those two weeks brought several things to light, including my lack of obedience to God’s laws, and the emphasis throughout the Old Testament on vengeance and justice.
I knew what I had to do next. I began reading the New Testament. And there, it seemed, were answers to all my questions, comfort from all my fears. I finished the NT in another week, and added another dozen pages of notes to my collection.
Yet, I had some serious misgivings. I saw Jesus as a wonderful man, someone to emulate, but as God? As Messiah? My Jewish background and teachings were digging at me - "God is One," "Christ was a Jew-hater," and other mantras reverberated in my mind. I MIGHT be able to accept Jesus as Lord, but Savior?
Still, I started attending a bible-believing church, and began reading the bible through again. I got many new revelations on the Old Testament the second time through, but none as monumental as the one I received about 5 months after the women’s conference, from Isaiah.
But he was wounded because of our sins,
Crushed because of our iniquities.
He bore the chastisement that made us whole,
And by his bruises we were healed.
Isaiah 53:5 JPS
There it was, in black and while - in the Hebrew Scriptures: Christ’s death on the cross as payment for my sins. At this point, I had no choice. I embraced the cross, and have never turned back.
And that was twelve years ago. And still I am healed by his bruises, and his chastisement made me whole. And I am living for Him.
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Joanne Sher is a wife, mother of two, and devoted lover of Jesus. She was saved out of Judaism a decade ago and has a passion for writing, encouraging others in the Lord, and caring for her family. A writer by calling, she enjoys writing short pieces, at her blog An Open Book, as well as at the womens’ devotional site Internet Cafe Devotions and the Midwestern group blog The Barn Door.
She is currently working on her first novel, a Biblical fiction work set during King Saul's reign, and focusing on the handmaiden of Saul's youngest daughter Michal. She is also preparing her first manuscript-- Ailing Body, Nourished Soul, a non-fiction book on God’s workings through her husband’s serious health issues--for pitching. Joanne loves to write short fiction that glorifies God, and has several other novel ideas on the back burner.
As always comments are closed today so you can go encourage Joanne on her blog!
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