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I was
raised in a nice Jewish home in Los Angeles. My
parents were not at all religious, though we were
all proud of our Jewish heritage. We went to synagogue
perhaps twice a year (sound familiar?). My grandfather,
on the other hand, was strictly orthodox, and
when he came to live with us when I was five (after
he was widowed), there ensued a tug-o-war over
the question of my religious training. My grandfather
won out, meaning that, beginning at age 8, I spent
the next four and a half years going to Hebrew
school three days per week after school.
In Hebrew
school we learned, of course, to read and write
Hebrew. But we also learned about our culture
and our history. We didn’t study the Bible
at all in Hebrew School, but we were taught to
always be loyal to our Jewish people, to Jewish
causes, and to be very cautious about developing
friendships with non-Jews. After all, they believed
in You-Know-Who, and that wasn’t acceptable
for Jews. At age 13, I became a Bar-Mitzvah (“son
of the commandment”), which is the Jewish
coming-of-age ceremony, roughly the equivalent
of confirmation.
We didn’t
talk about God in our home, and I really didn’t
give much thought to the existence of God until
my Senior year in High School. At that time, I
became fascinated with studying the supernatural.
Most of my spiritual search over the next three
years took me through New-Age and occult practices
and beliefs. I had three core questions which
formed the basis of my search:
1).
Who am I? 2). Why am I here? 3). Where will
I go when I die?
What attracted
me about New-Age philosophy was the idea that
I could be very “spiritual” without
the rigors of any commandments to be kept. No
“Thou shalt’s” or “Thou
shalt not’s” for Glenn. Just be a
“good person” (whatever that meant).
To be perfectly candid, I wanted sexual freedom
without guilt (or responsibility), and I knew
instinctively that “organized religion”
taught that sex before marriage was not right.
I would have told you that my objections to Christianity
were of an intellectual nature, but deep down
I knew that was only a facade - I just didn’t
want anybody telling me what was right or wrong.
I entered
college hoping to major in psychology. The first
classes I took in psychology, however, convinced
me that it was not the avenue for me. Sure, I
enjoyed analyzing people’s motivations and
their behavior, and I did want to help people
(and make a nice living), but what the classical
psychologists taught about human nature flew in
the face of everything I had been taught and believed
about myself. I fancied myself a good person.
The professors would have me believe that, in
fact, I was quite depraved, and that only society’s
laws and customs kept people in check. Left to
ourselves, we were taught, we were capable of
immeasurable selfishness and savagery. So much
for psychology!
I ended
up dropping out of the university after just a
year and a half, not having any direction at all,
and not wanting to go to school just to “bide
time”. At the same time, my questions remained
unanswered in the various religious groups I associated
with, nor did the New-Age books I read seem to
have any concrete answers. Was it so much to want
to know what happens when we die? The New-Age
teachers couched their answers in such nebulous
language, that I figured I just wasn’t “enlightened”
enough to understand. In retrospect, I think they
themselves had no idea, but were not honest enough
to admit it. I tired of chasing after their dangling
carrot.
About
that same time, a co-worker named Mandy invited
me to go to church with her. She knew I was Jewish,
but that didn’t deter her from sharing the
truth about Jesus with me. I, for my part, used
my best arsenal of objections to try to show her
how closed-minded she was, and why I would never
believe in Jesus (not in the “Christian”
sort-of way, anyway). Besides, I did believe that
Jesus was perhaps the greatest teacher who ever
lived, and that certainly he was an “enlightened”
individual. That much I could believe without
jeopardizing my Jewish identity. Still, I agreed
to go to church with Mandy, but I had no intention
of believing any of it, I only agreed to go so
that I could keep up the appearance of being “open-minded”.
The evening
we went to her church, I was quite surprised at
what I saw: people with genuine affection and
warmth for each other, this in spite of the fact
that there were nearly 1,000 people gathered in
the auditorium. I was further surprised to see
that the “preacher” was not somebody
in a cheap, three-piece suit with slicked-back
hair, a 20 lb. Bible and a southern drawl. In
fact, the guy looked (and spoke) like a surfer!
“How could this guy be the preacher?”
I wondered. And for awhile I looked around, distracted,
trying desperately to find fault with anything
I could - anything so that I didn’t have
to accept what I was hearing; namely, that I could
have a personal relationship with God; that He
loved me, and that He sent Jesus to die in my
place, so that my sins could be forgiven, and
I could be reconciled to God forever, and enjoy
a place in heaven with Him.
In the
midst of my whirling thoughts and fault-finding,
a voice broke in; not audible, mind you, but as
real as any voice could be. This voice told me
that I was being singularly unfair, and that if
this talk had been about anything other than You-Know-Who,
I would have been listening with rapt attention,
taking notes, buying tapes, signing up for classes
- the whole megillah!. But since it was about
Jesus, I was being singularly critical. This voice
challenged me to be the “open-minded”
person I always boasted of being, and to give
this message a fair hearing.
I agreed
that I had been unfair, so I sat back and just
started listening without prejudice. And at that
very moment, something happened within me. Suddenly,
everything this guy was saying made perfect sense!
And in the course of his talk that evening, each
of my questions were answered; unambiguously and
unashamedly. I realized that God created and loved
me, had me here for the purpose of getting to
know and love Him, and that heaven could be my
eternal destination - IF...
If I would
recognize Jesus as Messiah, ask God’s forgiveness
for my sin and unbelief, and receive Jesus, by
faith, as my sin-bearer (much like the lambs and
rams that had been our substitutes in ancient
Israel, when the Temple still stood) and receive
Him into my heart and life.
I may
not have known much of the Bible, and I certainly
didn’t have any theology or doctrine under
my belt; but I knew a good deal when I heard it.
At the invitation of this man, I (and maybe 100
or so others) walked forward to make that commitment
to follow Jesus from now on.
That was
March of 1981. I’m sure Mandy was as surprised
as I was (and even understandably a little skeptical),
that I should respond so quickly. But this was
the answer to my years of searching, in vain,
through so many religious philosophies. I’ve
learned a lot over the past twenty six years -
mostly how fortunate I am to know, and to be known,
by God, to have a loving family, to have my name
inscribed in the Book of Life, and how little
I deserve any of it!
A battle
with cancer in 1985 punctuated my life, but not
my faith, and the years since have been the best
of my life. For ten years I served with the ministry
of Jews for Jesus. In 1990 I married a lovely
Greek girl named Alexandra, and we now have four
children (one in Heaven), and since 1997 have
lived in Southeastern Michigan, where I am the
Associate Rabbi at Congregation Shema Yisrael.
My challenge to anyone reading this, who seeks
the truth, is to take the advice of King David,
“Taste and see that the Lord is good; how
blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him”
(Psalm 34:8). It’s worked for me! So...
taste and enjoy!
Note:
Rabbi Glenn graduated from Michigan Theological
Seminary in May, 2007 with a Master of Divinity
degree.
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