Why Jesus Stories
Because of who he is. Because of what he said. Because his reality transforms lives in the midst of a broken world. Because he fulfills the hopes of our Jewish people, and of the rest of the world. Because he atones for our sins. Because believing in him makes sense. There are as many reasons for “why Jesus” as there are followers of him. Discover what some of them have found.
I was brought up in a Jewish home, observed Shabbat faithfully and celebrated the High Holy days at the temple and with family. I attended Hebrew school twice a week and was bar mitzvah and confirmed. While attending classes I asked a lot of questions about God that the rabbi could not answer. Though I […]
I was born in 1932 in Belarus. My parents were religious; they knew God. My father was a rabbi and was sent to prison for five years for conducting circumcision rituals. My father always took me to the synagogue, but I did not understand anything there. I only understood Yiddish. My father always prayed before meals, “Baruch Atah Adonai Elohenu,” then he dipped bread into salt and then we could eat.
When I was about five years old, I crawled into my father’s lap and touching his arm lightly, I asked, “What is that number?” Without flinching, he explained how he had been marked in the concentration camps, where very bad men treated people like numbers, not human beings. He didn’t offer much more information until […]
I was born into a middle class, Jewish Amercian family, which would have made me a princess” except that my father was a florist, not a doctor. We celebrated almost all the traditional Jewish holidays in a superficial way. While I was taught there was a God, I never really knew him. When I was […]
I wasn’t looking for Jesus or God or anything ontological. I kept my nose to the grindstone. My goal in life was nothing big: I wanted to earn a good living and be able to afford a middle-class lifestyle. But even if I wasn’t looking for Jesus, He was looking for me. My Jewishness is […]
There are Jews in Pakistan?!?” is the common reaction I get when I tell people I was born in Karachi, Pakistan. My father, a Catholic, was of Goan origin (Goa is a western province of India), and my mother comes from the Bene-Israel Jewish community in India/Pakistan. We moved to Quebec, Canada when I was […]
I came to the courtroom early, before the proceedings began. The podium was adjustable, right? I lowered it. I’m five feet, seven and a half inches tall and the last thing I needed was to be standing up on the tips of my toes to reach the podium! When I came back later, for the […]
If the condition spread to my left eye, I would be blind. My medical career would be over, and life as I knew it would cease. I was afraid — afraid and angry. I cursed God, figuring if he existed, he deserved it. I informed him — or was it the air? — that I […]
Like many Jewish people, I was raised in a home where Jewishness was more cultural than religious. Our family celebrated Passover and Hanukkah at our home in Brooklyn, we went to the Temple on the High Holy Days, and several afternoons each week I would attend Hebrew school. This upbringing ensured that I would always […]
I spent my youth in a way that did not produce envy in my peers. Every afternoon, for five days a week, I studied the Hebrew Scriptures at Hebrew School. What a place to spend my youth, with Mr. Katz and with Mr. Bugatch! They seemed to think that learning Hebrew was not punishment enough, […]
It was New Year’s Eve, 1951. As I reached for a drinking glass in the shelf-lined pantry of our cold-water flat, I glanced out of the tiny window at the midnight sky. The light of one star in the southwest dazzled me with its brilliance. It beamed bigger and brighter than any star I had […]