A diminishing and aging population has revived an interest in offering Jewish “life” to unchurched Gentiles.
American Jews, unlike evangelicals, have never had a reputation for missionary zeal. The scene, however, may be about to change. For the first time in the history of modern Judaism, a large segment of the Jewish community is now giving serious heed to a call to become more aggressive and to reach out to win converts. A committee is at work studying the possibility of moving ahead with a new outreach program to proselytize Gentiles.
Chief advocate of this proposal is Rabbi Alexander Schindler, one of the top leaders among Reform Judaism’s 1.2 million members. In an address before the Board of Trustees of the Union of American Hebrew Congregations, Schindler stated, “My friends, we Jews possess the water which can slake the thirst, the bread which can sate the great hunger. Let us offer it freely, proudly—for our well-being and for the sake of those who earnestly seek what is ours to give.”
Rabbi Schindler’s purpose is not to make converts of people with well-established religious ties. Rather, he hopes to attract them from the 60 million-plus Americans who are “unchurched” and disaffiliated.
Why this sudden emphasis on conversion? Do Jews now believe a person is lost and hell-bound unless he becomes a Jew? Far from it! Rabbis today often quote an ancient commentary on the Talmud to demonstrate the universalism of Judaism: “the righteous among all people have a share in the life to come” (Tosefta Sanhedrin 13:2). Judaism teaches that no man is any different from his neighbor except by his quality of character and conduct of life. It is clear, then, that the impetus behind this new “evangelism” is coming from a different direction, one largely nontheological in nature. Let us consider this more closely.
To begin with, there is the age factor. Recent studies show the American Jewish community to be “aging.” One out of nine is age 65 or older, compared to one out of ten Gentiles. “Who will some day fill the ranks of these senior citizens?” Jews anxiously ask.
Another related factor that provides motivation to seek conversions is the low Jewish birthrate. Unlike the typically large immigrant family that lived on New York’s Lower East Side at the turn of the century, squeezed into two or three rooms, today’s Jewish family, by comparison, is very small. With a meager birthrate of 1.4 children per family, Jewish couples are no longer replacing themselves. There are nearly six million Jews living in America at present; but if the current birthrate continues, statisticians estimate that the most optimistic projection is for an American Jewish population in 100 years of only three million.
A third element—one also directly linked to the family—is the threat of intermarriage and assimilation. Up-to-date studies indicate that one out of every three Jews now marry outside the faith. Though traditional Jewish law does not allow a Gentile to convert to Judaism if the purpose is to marry a Jew, many rabbis no longer uphold this teaching. Frustrated by the thought of mixed marriages, these rabbis see conversion largely as a kind of viable compromise, a step taken toward guaranteeing Jewish survival.
But even when the Gentile partner converts, problems over Jewish identity often arise. It is common, for instance, for a convert to find himself wounded, wondering if he actually is a “real” Jew. Unlike Christianity, where every believer may be designated in a true sense a “convert,” the newly converted Jew frequently finds a second-class status bestowed on him. This usually derives from lack of acceptance—even hostility—by Jews who question the purity of his motive. They ask, “Is it only a conversion of convenience, or one of conviction?” To add to the debate, Orthodox regulations governing proselytes are, in matters of halachah, far stricter than those of Reform Judaism. No wonder conversions after counsel over an impending mixed marriage (the vast majority of conversions fall into this category) present a certain dilemma. They may be very different from conversions that originate from personal search, sincere inquiry, and honest choice.
Yet another incentive behind missionizing lies in the collective desire of the Jewish community not to allow Hitler any “posthumous victory.” The so-called final solution, extermination of all Jews, by its six million victims left the Jewish population severely depleted. “Who is taking their place?” many Jews now intently ask. Likewise, other Jews feel that the horrors of the Holocaust should prick all Christian consciences, and bring a sense of guilt to any would-be missionaries seeking converts among Jews. As one Jewish spokesman puts it, “Whether you lose them to gas chambers, or by conversion to Christianity, you’ve lost them.”
Thus, the motivation behind Rabbi Schindler’s proposal largely derives from sociological concerns. It stems from the imperative of survival due to a shrinking Jewish population.
When all is considered, the new “evangelism” is really not new; it goes back 4,000 years. Though Jews have not maintained an active missionary program all these years, one basic conviction has undergirded them from Bible times: God specifically chose the Jews as a people to serve as l’or goyim (“a light to the Gentiles”; Isa. 42:6). This purpose of God’s election actually began with Abraham. Rabbinic literature points to Abraham as the first convert (he was circumcised at the age of 99) and master missionary of the Hebrew faith. The rabbis indicate that this patriarch of patriarchs turned from pagan astrology to worship the true God; he converted men, and Sarah women.
In Jewish thinking, Ruth remains the classic biblical example of a Gentile converting to Judaism. Ruth’s tenacity to the faith of her mother-in-law, Naomi, is expressed in the moving words, “Your people shall be my people, and your God my God” (Ruth 1:16).
The prophets of Israel likewise write of the conversion of non-Jews. God’s universal love for the pagan Ninevites, and their belief in Israel’s God, is illustrated by the book of Jonah (3:5–10). The prophet Zechariah predicts a time when people of every tongue will “take hold of the robe of a Jew, saying, ‘Let us go with you, for we have heard that God is with you’ ” (Zech. 8:23). Micah foresees a day when many nations (goyim) will flow to the “mountain of the house of the LORD” to learn God’s way (Mic. 4:2). In a similar vein, Isaiah speaks of “foreigners who join themselves” to Israel’s God in order to “minister to him,” and the prophet further adds that the temple will be called a “house of prayer for all peoples” (Isa. 56:6–7). Though centuries later Christians would take passages such as some of these and see their spiritual fulfillment in the church, Jewish exegetes have pointed to these same texts for sanction in reaching out to convert Gentiles.
In the New Testament, the Pharisees are depicted as those who “traverse sea and land to make a single proselyte.” Later on, the early Christian church spread so rapidly in the Roman world partly because “its way had been prepared by a Jewish missionary impulse,” Samuel Sandmel has written.
Despite the rapid rise of Christianity in the first few centuries, the flame of the Jewish missionary movement, though affected, was not to be extinguished. In the fourth century, when Christianity became the state religion under Constantine, Jews were told to stop seeking converts. Later, in the seventh century, Muslim rulers issued a similar decree. But irrespective of these and other warnings, and the consequent pressure to convert to the dominant faith of the day, during the Middle Ages missionary activity continued. However, it was seldom in the open.
Following the first Crusade, at the beginning of the twelfth century, Jewish art depicts the Jew as one who is no longer proud and upright, but one humbled and downcast. The days of medieval Jewish missionary activity were now numbered; there was no other alternative. In 1235, a church council in Spain ruled that if a Jew tried to convert a Christian he was to be killed, and his property taken from him. By 1492, the time of the Spanish Inquisition, the proselytizer’s “shoe” was completely on the other foot. Spanish Jews had but one of three options: flee their houses and homeland, convert to Christianity, or be put to death.
Jewish literature from about 1600 on indicates a clear-cut change in its attitude toward conversion. This switch to a negative attitude—one that has largely prevailed during the last 350 years—is directly traceable to the fear of punishment associated with being a Jewish convert. Only with the modern-day disappearance of the Jewish shtetl (ghetto), and the consequent toll this recent emancipation has taken on the solidarity and preservation of the Jewish home, has there been a desire to revive the missionary spirit. And today, under the leadership of Reform Jewry, that spirit may be on the threshold of being rekindled.
The initial reaction by American Jews to Schindler’s proposal has been mixed. It has generated considerable discussion in both rabbinic and lay circles. But let us assume an effective missionary program is once again initiated in the eighties. How then might certain segments within evangelicalism react? And what are likely to be some of the practical implications of all this?
First, the competition to win converts is bound to intensify. This means some debate and disagreement over who are the “unchurched.” If Jews consider it legitimate to approach former practicing Christians who have temporarily lapsed in formal church affiliation, then some evangelicals are likely to feel more unrestrained than ever—contrary to the current warnings and protests of Jewish leadership—to seek to win over Jews who have no synagogue membership. In any case, evangelicals are most certainly going to be led to rethink their whole method of outreach to both Gentiles and Jews. As for the latter, this may include more emphasis upon historical apologetics and the Jewish origin of the Christian faith.
Second, evangelicals and Jews will become more directly aware of the differing missionary motives of the other. Jews do not teach that theirs is the only way of salvation, for Judaism is a universal faith. Evangelicals, as a whole, however, bound to biblical authority, have never departed from that historic position that affirms that salvation is found in Christ alone (John 14:6 and Acts 4:12). Therefore, most evangelicals find their primary motivation to evangelize in the personal acceptance of God’s love displayed in Christ for the sins of the world. Jews today, living in this secularized age of ecumenical broadmindedness and theological universalism, may interpret evangelicalism as being intolerant, even smacking of triumphalism. But, in a pluralistic society, evangelicals feel the most important question to be asked about the validity of any religion is not whether it is useful or universal, but whether it is true. Fortunately, American religious pluralism encourages the right of individuals in the pursuit of truth and in the making of informed choices. Both evangelicals and Jews must insist that it continue to remain that way.
Third, the new “evangelism” is bound to elicit considerable discussion on the ethics and methods to be used in missionary witness. Hopefully, the blood-shrouded events of the Crusades and Inquisition taught at least one valuable lesson: no one can be forced to convert against his will. It is one thing to seek converts by deceptive, manipulative, or devious means; it is another thing to provide information and instruction to those who have expressed a sincere desire to know. The noted author Rabbi Bernard Bamberger invites Christians and Jews to engage in dialogue with this open and encouraging perspective: “I see no reason why Christians should not try to convince us of their viewpoint, if they do so decently and courteously; and I believe that we Jews have the same right …” (Keeping Posted, Nov. 1975). Bamberger’s position is not shared by everyone in the Jewish community. But, granting the American tradition of both freedom of speech and religion, his perspective, built around the necessity of mutual respect, is fair in not seeking to muffle the Christian witness to Jews, nor Jews to Christians.
Fourth, it is likely to create renewed interest and study on the question of the validity of Jewish Christianity. In the early church, Christians were accepted as being Jews. But since church and synagogue parted ways—probably as early as the end of the first century—mainline Judaism has taken “Jew” and “Christian” to be mutually exclusive terms. It is argued that a Jew cannot have it both ways: he must decide on what side of the fence he will fall—Jewish or Christian. The Hebrew Christian movement today, of course, sees the issue differently. A Jewish believer in Jesus disavows he is a meshummad (apostate); rather he is a “completed” or “messianic” Jew, part of the body of Christ. This question of Jewish Christianity remains a most sensitive issue in the larger Jewish community.
Finally, we may expect an increase in evangelical-Jewish dialogue, and consequently, a deeper understanding of each other’s faith. For the most part, Orthodox Jews are not interested in pursuing interfaith dialogue, but Reform Jews are. Evangelicals can learn much from Jews, and vice versa. The roots of Christianity run deep in the soil of Judaism. We share in common about 80 percent of the Bible, the Old Testament. In addition, the history and future of the land of Israel is of mutual concern. But most of all, there is great need to understand one another, freed from the biases, prejudices, and stereotypes that in the past have so often divided us.
As we move into the eighties, the “new” evangelism poses many potential questions for both synagogue and church. With this in mind, both evangelical and Jew must respect the deepest sensitivities and convictions of the other.
Carl F. H. Henry, first editor of Christianity Today, is lecturer at large for World Vision International. An author of many books, he lives in Arlington, Virginia.
