A TESTIMONY: Lost and Found

 A TESTIMONY: Lost and Found                               

By Hope Egan

Rediscovering My Jewish Identity in Yeshua

I was raised Jewish, but I didn’t really know what that meant. At home, we had a mezuzah on our doorpost, hosted Passover Seders for extended family, and went to synagogue on Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur. I even went to Hebrew school and had a bat mitzvah. Although we didn’t talk about God, for a season, I said a little nightly prayer along with the Shema. Tiny seeds were planted, and my Jewish identity solidified, even though I didn’t embrace it for over forty years.

Judaism, it seemed, was just my heritage. Rather than a way for ongoing engagement with God, it explained where my ancestors came from. But as a child, I wondered, “And then what happened? Did God just check out after parting the Red Sea?” My parents and teachers never said otherwise, so I assumed that God worked miracles, sat back in a very large chair, and watched the story of humanity play itself out.

My best friend Paula was “Christian.” Her family decorated a Christmas tree, while mine lit Hanukkah candles. When I asked my parents what the difference between religions was, they said, “Jews don’t believe that Jesus was the Messiah.” Defining our religion by what it didn’t believe was confusing, especially since I didn’t know what “the Messiah” meant.

A Toe in the Water with Jesus

After college, compulsive eating habits drove me to Overeaters Anonymous (OA), a 12-step program rooted in spiritual principles. I was skeptical about the focus on God, but desperate, so I went. I was surprised to discover that the program wasn’t about food; it was about transformation. Working the steps, which included self-examination, confession, repentance, and forgiveness, I recognized my brokenness and turned my life over to God. Embracing the Serenity Prayer and seeking God’s will bore fruit. For the first time, I experienced God as real.

Many of my OA friends attended a Unity church, so I joined them. Although I wasn’t eager to go anywhere involving Jesus, seeing Jewish friends comfortable there made me think I could be, too. Unity leaned toward New Age: Jesus was a man who perfectly embodied “Christ consciousness.” Far from mainstream Christianity, it was a comfortable toe in the water with Jesus.

When a speaker recommended a Jesus-related book on the Beatitudes, I read it and was shocked by how closely it aligned with what I’d been learning in OA: dependence on God, the power of forgiveness, the importance of prayer, and the core values of humility and integrity. For the first time, I considered that Christianity might make sense.

Losing My Identity

Still, I assumed following Jesus meant that I had to leave Judaism. On Yom Kippur 1995, I woke up to a voice saying, “You are no longer Jewish.” Confused and unsure whose voice it was, it felt official: While I did not yet consider myself a Christian, I had what I thought was God’s permission to cease being a Jew. I officially let go of my Jewish identity.

Not long after, Paula invited me to a church-based gathering called Safe Place: twenty- and thirty-somethings studying Scripture, talking about God, and walking out their faith together. I loved the engaging teachings and lively discussions, even though it was still too Jesus-y for me. Whenever they mentioned Jesus, I silently substituted “God,” assuming he would understand.

Although I completely immersed myself in the community, something never fully fit for me. One night around a campfire, everyone started singing worship songs I didn’t know. I started crying, and all eyes turned to me. I shared, “I feel out of place and alone. I’m the only Jewish person here.”

Eventually, I committed my life to following Jesus. But I lost my Jewish identity in the process. Was that really what the King of the Jews wanted?

Later that year, I wrote, “I am Jewish. It seemed so much easier and cleaner to leave that part of me behind. But I’ve realized it can’t be done. And rather than discovering any answers, I’ve found myself steeped in questions. Will the answers ever emerge?”

Catholic Christian or Orthodox Jew?

Still searching for my place in Christianity, I explored what I thought was the earliest form of Christianity: the Roman Catholic Church. I joined the year-long education program leading to baptism.

Halfway through, I received some unexpected advice from a priest: “Before you commit to Catholicism, you should understand your roots. Investigate Judaism as an adult and give it a chance, like you did with Christianity. Then pick a faith tradition and commit to it; don’t try to do both.”

I’d never considered revisiting Judaism, but I realized he was right. I had no idea what lived-out Judaism actually looked like, so I sought out acquaintances who had chosen Orthodox Jewish lifestyles as adults and shadowed their lives for a short season. It was something I never knew existed: a beautiful faith that is completely centered on God, the Bible, and community. Was this the path God wanted for me? It was very enticing! But if I chose Orthodox Judaism, I’d have to give up Jesus (and Brian, who I hoped was my future husband). I chose Jesus.

Jesus and Jewishness

In 1999, Brian and I got married; I was baptized in the Catholic Church the following spring. But I was still theologically restless. I was committed to the Christian life, so why was I still struggling with Jesus?

A few months later, we migrated to a non-denominational church where I met Elizabeth, a lifelong Jewish believer in Jesus. She knew her Bible and wasn’t afraid to challenge conventional interpretations.

At lunch with her one day, she shared some of her discomfort with certain aspects of Christian theology and historical interpretations of the Bible. I suddenly realized that it wasn’t Jesus I was struggling with; it was the church’s distance from its Jewish roots and some traditions that evolved because of it. Was this the missing piece I’d been searching for?

Once I learned about it, it was like finding the top of the puzzle box. In 2001, Elizabeth introduced me to FFOZ and HaYesod, a video course on the Jewish foundations of Christianity.

During the ten weeks, the Bible came alive. I learned that Jesus (Yeshua) was Jewish, his earliest followers were Jewish, and the Bible is one continuous story (not two competing ones). Paul didn’t convert to Christianity; he was a faithful Jew teaching Gentiles how to follow the God of Israel as Gentiles. By the end of HaYesod, the pieces finally started to fit together.

I didn’t have to choose between being Jewish and following Jesus. My lost Jewish identity was restored, and my faith in Yeshua deepened as a result. Though I felt lost for much of the journey, in hindsight, I know God was giving me the puzzle pieces all along.

Learning to read the Bible from a first-century Jewish perspective changed everything for me, which is why I’m now excited to share God’s work in my life with others.

And, I can say amen to this!ONY: Lost and Found                                   By Hope Egan

Rediscovering My Jewish Identity in Yeshua

I was raised Jewish, but I didn’t really know what that meant. At home, we had a mezuzah on our doorpost, hosted Passover Seders for extended family, and went to synagogue on Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur. I even went to Hebrew school and had a bat mitzvah. Although we didn’t talk about God, for a season, I said a little nightly prayer along with the Shema. Tiny seeds were planted, and my Jewish identity solidified, even though I didn’t embrace it for over forty years.

Judaism, it seemed, was just my heritage. Rather than a way for ongoing engagement with God, it explained where my ancestors came from. But as a child, I wondered, “And then what happened? Did God just check out after parting the Red Sea?” My parents and teachers never said otherwise, so I assumed that God worked miracles, sat back in a very large chair, and watched the story of humanity play itself out.

My best friend Paula was “Christian.” Her family decorated a Christmas tree, while mine lit Hanukkah candles. When I asked my parents what the difference between religions was, they said, “Jews don’t believe that Jesus was the Messiah.” Defining our religion by what it didn’t believe was confusing, especially since I didn’t know what “the Messiah” meant.

A Toe in the Water with Jesus

After college, compulsive eating habits drove me to Overeaters Anonymous (OA), a 12-step program rooted in spiritual principles. I was skeptical about the focus on God, but desperate, so I went. I was surprised to discover that the program wasn’t about food; it was about transformation. Working the steps, which included self-examination, confession, repentance, and forgiveness, I recognized my brokenness and turned my life over to God. Embracing the Serenity Prayer and seeking God’s will bore fruit. For the first time, I experienced God as real.

Many of my OA friends attended a Unity church, so I joined them. Although I wasn’t eager to go anywhere involving Jesus, seeing Jewish friends comfortable there made me think I could be, too. Unity leaned toward New Age: Jesus was a man who perfectly embodied “Christ consciousness.” Far from mainstream Christianity, it was a comfortable toe in the water with Jesus.

When a speaker recommended a Jesus-related book on the Beatitudes, I read it and was shocked by how closely it aligned with what I’d been learning in OA: dependence on God, the power of forgiveness, the importance of prayer, and the core values of humility and integrity. For the first time, I considered that Christianity might make sense.

Losing My Identity

Still, I assumed following Jesus meant that I had to leave Judaism. On Yom Kippur 1995, I woke up to a voice saying, “You are no longer Jewish.” Confused and unsure whose voice it was, it felt official: While I did not yet consider myself a Christian, I had what I thought was God’s permission to cease being a Jew. I officially let go of my Jewish identity.

Not long after, Paula invited me to a church-based gathering called Safe Place: twenty- and thirty-somethings studying Scripture, talking about God, and walking out their faith together. I loved the engaging teachings and lively discussions, even though it was still too Jesus-y for me. Whenever they mentioned Jesus, I silently substituted “God,” assuming he would understand.

Although I completely immersed myself in the community, something never fully fit for me. One night around a campfire, everyone started singing worship songs I didn’t know. I started crying, and all eyes turned to me. I shared, “I feel out of place and alone. I’m the only Jewish person here.”

Eventually, I committed my life to following Jesus. But I lost my Jewish identity in the process. Was that really what the King of the Jews wanted?

Later that year, I wrote, “I am Jewish. It seemed so much easier and cleaner to leave that part of me behind. But I’ve realized it can’t be done. And rather than discovering any answers, I’ve found myself steeped in questions. Will the answers ever emerge?”

Catholic Christian or Orthodox Jew?

Still searching for my place in Christianity, I explored what I thought was the earliest form of Christianity: the Roman Catholic Church. I joined the year-long education program leading to baptism.

Halfway through, I received some unexpected advice from a priest: “Before you commit to Catholicism, you should understand your roots. Investigate Judaism as an adult and give it a chance, like you did with Christianity. Then pick a faith tradition and commit to it; don’t try to do both.”

I’d never considered revisiting Judaism, but I realized he was right. I had no idea what lived-out Judaism actually looked like, so I sought out acquaintances who had chosen Orthodox Jewish lifestyles as adults and shadowed their lives for a short season. It was something I never knew existed: a beautiful faith that is completely centered on God, the Bible, and community. Was this the path God wanted for me? It was very enticing! But if I chose Orthodox Judaism, I’d have to give up Jesus (and Brian, who I hoped was my future husband). I chose Jesus.

Jesus and Jewishness

In 1999, Brian and I got married; I was baptized in the Catholic Church the following spring. But I was still theologically restless. I was committed to the Christian life, so why was I still struggling with Jesus?

A few months later, we migrated to a non-denominational church where I met Elizabeth, a lifelong Jewish believer in Jesus. She knew her Bible and wasn’t afraid to challenge conventional interpretations.

At lunch with her one day, she shared some of her discomfort with certain aspects of Christian theology and historical interpretations of the Bible. I suddenly realized that it wasn’t Jesus I was struggling with; it was the church’s distance from its Jewish roots and some traditions that evolved because of it. Was this the missing piece I’d been searching for?

Once I learned about it, it was like finding the top of the puzzle box. In 2001, Elizabeth introduced me to FFOZ and HaYesod, a video course on the Jewish foundations of Christianity.

During the ten weeks, the Bible came alive. I learned that Jesus (Yeshua) was Jewish, his earliest followers were Jewish, and the Bible is one continuous story (not two competing ones). Paul didn’t convert to Christianity; he was a faithful Jew teaching Gentiles how to follow the God of Israel as Gentiles. By the end of HaYesod, the pieces finally started to fit together.

I didn’t have to choose between being Jewish and following Jesus. My lost Jewish identity was restored, and my faith in Yeshua deepened as a result. Though I felt lost for much of the journey, in hindsight, I know God was giving me the puzzle pieces all along.

Learning to read the Bible from a first-century Jewish perspective changed everything for me, which is why I’m now excited to share God’s work in my life with others.

And, I can say amen to this!t and Found                                   By Hope Egan

Rediscovering My Jewish Identity in Yeshua

I was raised Jewish, but I didn’t really know what that meant. At home, we had a mezuzah on our doorpost, hosted Passover Seders for extended family, and went to synagogue on Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur. I even went to Hebrew school and had a bat mitzvah. Although we didn’t talk about God, for a season, I said a little nightly prayer along with the Shema. Tiny seeds were planted, and my Jewish identity solidified, even though I didn’t embrace it for over forty years.

Judaism, it seemed, was just my heritage. Rather than a way for ongoing engagement with God, it explained where my ancestors came from. But as a child, I wondered, “And then what happened? Did God just check out after parting the Red Sea?” My parents and teachers never said otherwise, so I assumed that God worked miracles, sat back in a very large chair, and watched the story of humanity play itself out.

My best friend Paula was “Christian.” Her family decorated a Christmas tree, while mine lit Hanukkah candles. When I asked my parents what the difference between religions was, they said, “Jews don’t believe that Jesus was the Messiah.” Defining our religion by what it didn’t believe was confusing, especially since I didn’t know what “the Messiah” meant.

A Toe in the Water with Jesus

After college, compulsive eating habits drove me to Overeaters Anonymous (OA), a 12-step program rooted in spiritual principles. I was skeptical about the focus on God, but desperate, so I went. I was surprised to discover that the program wasn’t about food; it was about transformation. Working the steps, which included self-examination, confession, repentance, and forgiveness, I recognized my brokenness and turned my life over to God. Embracing the Serenity Prayer and seeking God’s will bore fruit. For the first time, I experienced God as real.

Many of my OA friends attended a Unity church, so I joined them. Although I wasn’t eager to go anywhere involving Jesus, seeing Jewish friends comfortable there made me think I could be, too. Unity leaned toward New Age: Jesus was a man who perfectly embodied “Christ consciousness.” Far from mainstream Christianity, it was a comfortable toe in the water with Jesus.

When a speaker recommended a Jesus-related book on the Beatitudes, I read it and was shocked by how closely it aligned with what I’d been learning in OA: dependence on God, the power of forgiveness, the importance of prayer, and the core values of humility and integrity. For the first time, I considered that Christianity might make sense.

Losing My Identity

Still, I assumed following Jesus meant that I had to leave Judaism. On Yom Kippur 1995, I woke up to a voice saying, “You are no longer Jewish.” Confused and unsure whose voice it was, it felt official: While I did not yet consider myself a Christian, I had what I thought was God’s permission to cease being a Jew. I officially let go of my Jewish identity.

Not long after, Paula invited me to a church-based gathering called Safe Place: twenty- and thirty-somethings studying Scripture, talking about God, and walking out their faith together. I loved the engaging teachings and lively discussions, even though it was still too Jesus-y for me. Whenever they mentioned Jesus, I silently substituted “God,” assuming he would understand.

Although I completely immersed myself in the community, something never fully fit for me. One night around a campfire, everyone started singing worship songs I didn’t know. I started crying, and all eyes turned to me. I shared, “I feel out of place and alone. I’m the only Jewish person here.”

Eventually, I committed my life to following Jesus. But I lost my Jewish identity in the process. Was that really what the King of the Jews wanted?

Later that year, I wrote, “I am Jewish. It seemed so much easier and cleaner to leave that part of me behind. But I’ve realized it can’t be done. And rather than discovering any answers, I’ve found myself steeped in questions. Will the answers ever emerge?”

Catholic Christian or Orthodox Jew?

Still searching for my place in Christianity, I explored what I thought was the earliest form of Christianity: the Roman Catholic Church. I joined the year-long education program leading to baptism.

Halfway through, I received some unexpected advice from a priest: “Before you commit to Catholicism, you should understand your roots. Investigate Judaism as an adult and give it a chance, like you did with Christianity. Then pick a faith tradition and commit to it; don’t try to do both.”

I’d never considered revisiting Judaism, but I realized he was right. I had no idea what lived-out Judaism actually looked like, so I sought out acquaintances who had chosen Orthodox Jewish lifestyles as adults and shadowed their lives for a short season. It was something I never knew existed: a beautiful faith that is completely centered on God, the Bible, and community. Was this the path God wanted for me? It was very enticing! But if I chose Orthodox Judaism, I’d have to give up Jesus (and Brian, who I hoped was my future husband). I chose Jesus.

Jesus and Jewishness

In 1999, Brian and I got married; I was baptized in the Catholic Church the following spring. But I was still theologically restless. I was committed to the Christian life, so why was I still struggling with Jesus?

A few months later, we migrated to a non-denominational church where I met Elizabeth, a lifelong Jewish believer in Jesus. She knew her Bible and wasn’t afraid to challenge conventional interpretations.

At lunch with her one day, she shared some of her discomfort with certain aspects of Christian theology and historical interpretations of the Bible. I suddenly realized that it wasn’t Jesus I was struggling with; it was the church’s distance from its Jewish roots and some traditions that evolved because of it. Was this the missing piece I’d been searching for?

Once I learned about it, it was like finding the top of the puzzle box. In 2001, Elizabeth introduced me to FFOZ and HaYesod, a video course on the Jewish foundations of Christianity.

During the ten weeks, the Bible came alive. I learned that Jesus (Yeshua) was Jewish, his earliest followers were Jewish, and the Bible is one continuous story (not two competing ones). Paul didn’t convert to Christianity; he was a faithful Jew teaching Gentiles how to follow the God of Israel as Gentiles. By the end of HaYesod, the pieces finally started to fit together.

I didn’t have to choose between being Jewish and following Jesus. My lost Jewish identity was restored, and my faith in Yeshua deepened as a result. Though I felt lost for much of the journey, in hindsight, I know God was giving me the puzzle pieces all along.

Learning to read the Bible from a first-century Jewish perspective changed everything for me, which is why I’m now excited to share God’s work in my life with others.

And, I can say amen to this!