A story of one Christian’s after-death regret about Israel and Judaism
A few weeks ago, I and a very good friend of mine (well, he’s my best friend, one of the very few I have) were invited to a Shabbat dinner at the house of another mutual friend. My best friend is a Jew, like me, a disciple of Yeshua. I have known him for the last 15 years or so. He’s a successful businessman, a lover of G-d, a great family man, extremely funny yet serious when it counts, strong in faith and deeds, a natural leader, a servant of G-d, a big macher in his synagogue. Many a time I’ve turned to him for his wisdom and advise, for help with some of my life’s toughest decisions. After dinner and reciting Birkat Hamazon, we started chatting, joking and just having a grand old time, like we usually do. All of a sudden his countenance changed, his expression got very serious.
“I have to tell you something.” he almost whispered as he leaned in. “It’s about a dream I had the other night.”
“I am listening…”, I said, my curiosity greatly piqued yet tempered with my usual innate Jewish skepticism (my friend, while deeply spiritual, has never been known for overtly supernatural happenings).
“Marvin (not his real name) came to me in a dream. He was standing right in front of me – it was very real, just as I am talking to you right now”, my best friend said with all seriousness.
(Marvin was a Gentile Evangelical Christian who passed away suddenly from a heart attack a year or so ago. I knew him well and attended his funeral. He was a great man of G-d, a wonderful kind man, a true Christian who sacrificially and with great love for G-d, the Messiah and people spent years of his life serving in second and third world countries as a missionary. He also happened to be the father of my best friend’s son-in-law. Marvin and my best friend had a great relationship in almost every way, except for one issue that divided them – Israel and my friend’s Judaism.)
“As I looked at Marvin”, he continued, ” I noticed tears in his eyes. He was weeping and asking for forgiveness, to forgive him for his disregard for Israel and for the Jewish people, for giving me a hard time about wanting to live as a Jew, for my observances, for my Judaism”.
“I told him – Marvin, I forgive you, I forgive you. And we both cried” my friend said, as his eyes began to well up.
“Then, I moved in and gave him a great bear hug, the strongest hug I could muster. And I woke up.”