6/2/00
Star
crossed rabbi
"Jesus loves me, this
I know: Rabbi Solomon told me
so." This was a popular ditty
when I was a kid, an oblique swipe
at liberal Judaism.
But now, I'm hearing pretty
much the same thing -- from an
Orthodox rabbi.
Rabbi Yechiel Eckstein
is the clasped hand that joins
two arms of religious belief,
Evangelism and Judaism. As incongruous
as they are, Eckstein has forged
a brotherliness between them that
neatly accommodates both potentially
antagonistic sides.
It became possible only
when Eckstein gave his rabbinical
blessing to preaching their beliefs
to Jews.
"I affirm their right
to share the gospel with us, because
that's their starting point,"
he says, not at all surprised
by the amazement his statement
generates. He's been getting that
reaction for the past 25 years.
An Orthodox rabbi says
that proselytizing is kosher?!
No.
"I distinguish the
difference between evangelizing
and proselytizing. I'm using the
words very deliberately. The Evangelists
feel called by God to what they
call the Great Commission to preach
the gospel to the whole world.
What I have done is find ways
in which they can fulfill their
Great Commission and not feel
they are compromising their integrity,
but in ways that are acceptable
to us as Jews. Their job
is not to convert anyone. Their
job is to share the love of Christ,
but then to stop. If God wants
to bring about a conversion, that's
His doing."
To many Jews, who do not
care to consider the distinction,
they're all just goyim bent on
snaring Jewish souls. A rabbi
crusading to enlighten his people
on behalf of activist Christians
is bound to be controversial.
And he is.
Ottawa-born Eckstein, 48,
began his career in interfaith
diplomacy when the Anti-Defamation
League despatched him to Chicago
in 1980 to generate gentile support
at the time of the Nazi marches
in Skokie. in 1980. "At the
time, Jimmy Carter was president,
and the Jewish community found
itself with a born-again Southern
Baptist in the White House. We
asked ourselves, What is this?
Is it good or bad for the Jews?"
Eckstein found his niche, initiating
evangelical-Jewish relations.
It was a "sexy topic,"
he says, and he was the right
man for the task. Good-looking,
affable, dynamic, articulate,
Eckstein glides easily among politicians
and religious leaders of all persuasions.
And being Orthodox gives him doctrinary
weight.
A rabbi hobnobbing with
the likes of Billy Graham and
Jerry Falwell on the one hand,
and politicians in the US and
Israel on the other, is just what
tantalizes the media. Eckstein
attracted a lot of interest: he
even made People magazine's list
of under-30s most worth watching.
His chosen field of expertise
swiftly became a hot topic. "The
evangelical movement was just
starting to grow in attention,
in awareness, in numbers, in political
influence. Carter was president."
(President Clinton, and Al Gore,
are born-again as well.)
He was close to TV evangelists
Jerry Falwell, Pat Robertson,
Jimmy Swaggert and Jim Baker;
with over 40 percent of Americans
tuned in to the TV ministries,
Eckstein was more than a curiosity:
he was in the spotlight.
Concurrently, Israel
had become disillusioned with
liberal Christians' support for
the PLO, and was in need of friends.
Those friends, Eckstein surmised,
would be the 68 million born-again
Christians. "My niche became
important both to the American
Jewish community and to Israel,"
and no less so, to the evangelicals'
essential need for Jews to love.
Falwell went to Eckstein's
shul and spoke to the congregants,
and Eckstein became a mainstay
speaker in churches. There is
a lot of prejudging to overcome,
on both sides.
"I once gave a talk
in Oklahoma City, and someone
came up to me and said, 'Y'know,
rabbi, I really know the Jewish
community, I understand it very
well.' I said, oh, really? He
said, 'I haven't actually had
much interaction with the Jews,
I don't know any, but I once read
Meir Kahane's book.' "
SAVVY
AND shrewd, Eckstein has won wary
support from even the haredim,
in part because he has established
strict ground rules for the Christians.
"I affirm their right
to spread the word. The question
is not if they should,
but how. I will not ask
Evangelical Christians to compromise
their integrity, the same way
I won't ask that of the Jews.
If they say, 'we'll work with
you provided you get rid of that
circumcision stuff,' obviously
I'm not going to work with them.
"We can't ask them to stop
evangelizing the Jews; it is their
theology. But I have found moral
ways in which they can fulfill
their mitzva, so to speak, that
does not involve manipulation,
coercion, deception and overly
zealous techniques and targeted
missions toward Jews.
"I will not work with
any group that targets Jews for
conversion."
However, three years ago,
the understanding was abrogated
when Bailey Smith, leader of the
Southern Baptist Convention, made
his infamous declaration that
"God Almighty does not hear
the prayers of Jews."
Eckstein was stabbed in
the back. Finally, a month ago,
he publicly broke relations with
the Southern Baptists. His move
was widely reported, and significantly,
the big-name TV ministers turned
against their own and backed Eckstein.
In the wake of the controversy,
even Clinton announced his support
for Eckstein's stance.
His formula for partnership
may seem tenuous and unbalanced,
but it works: they give, we take.
"They seek to bless
the Jewish people because of what
it says in Bereshit, Chapter 12
Verse 3: God promises that those
who bless Abraham's seed will
be blessed, and those who curse
them will be cursed. They take
that very seriously.
"I have provided ways
in which they can fulfill the
Great Commission by helping the
Jewish people, by blessing them.
They can express their love for
Israel, their solidarity with
the Jews ... but not by preaching
Jesus. They're not saying the
word 'Jesus.' "
It has not been difficult
to find Christians eager to dole
out contributions. On the contrary;
Eckstein's organization, the International
Fellowship of Christians and Jews,
will sometimes return a donation
if they feel the donor has sacrificed
too much, impoverishing himself.
These Christians are sometimes
astonishing in their generosity,
"like the people who are
giving 10 percent of their Social
Security to help Jews immigrate
to Israel; or the person who for
three years saved $1,000 for a
down payment on a car so he can
get to work, and instead gave
that $1,000 for a soup kitchen
for elderly Jews in Odessa."
Yeah, meshugineh goyim,
you say, but whereas "Jews
give and say 'Don't bother me
again until next year,' these
Christians give monthly. It's
based on need, not obligation.
It's built on spiritualism."
These people don't give
splashily at big bashes, dinners,
or honorariums. They don't get
plaques. "None of that. They
don't want it."
They give, and God only knows.
"There's no contact between
the Christians who give and the
people here who receive. We just
gave money for a major project
for a haredi institution here
-- I won't say what, because I
don't want to embarrass them --
and the money came straight from
Christians. The haredim know where
it's coming from.
"Millions of Christians
want to help Israel. Do they believe
that in the end of days all people
including the Jews will come to
Christ? A hundred percent. But
are they actively trying to bring
that about? The answer is no.
"I make the distinction
between people who believe theologically
that all Jews will go to hell,
versus those who are actively
involved in trying to bring the
Jews to Jesus, which I call proselytizing."
Eckstein offers, as an
example, presidential candidate
George W. Bush.
"He was asked by the
media a few months ago about the
Jews getting to heaven. This is
now a standard question: the same
way they're asked about their
sexual affairs, they're asked
now if Jews can get to heaven.
So Bush really messed it up in
the beginning; he said, no, only
Christians believing in Jesus
can get to heaven.
"Then he talked to
his mother, and his mother put
Billy Graham on the phone, and
Graham gave him the answer which
he now uses, which is that only
God can judge."