An Inauthentic Love

I attempted to nurture a deep love for the Jewish people and the holy land. However, my "deep love" is now brought into question. A Jewish Christian opened my eyes to truth, which belittles my love. This man didn't intentionally belittle my love. He just shared some realities, which made me doubt the authenticity of my love.

He asked me where I was born and raised. I admitted I was sheltered in Indiana, which meant I had no real relationships with Jews. I then told him about my hobby of watching documentaries that deal with Jewish traditions, history, and culture. I told him that after reading the Bible, I realized that Judaism is deeply rooted in Jesus’ life and message.

He replied, “So when you say you love the Jewish people, what you really mean is... you love that the Jewish race gave birth to your Savior.” His statement was true, but it hurt to hear it stated that way. I don’t want to believe that I love Jewish people only because of my appreciation for the gospel and Christ.

My heart leaps whenever I hear that someone is of Jewish descent. However, this intangible love and reaction are not impressive. If I say I am a cat-lover, but I never owned a cat, then my assertion is weak. I may watch numerous Animal Plant episodes. I may own tons of cat pictures and think cats are cute and cuddly. However, the truth remains: I never owned a cat. This drastically limits my understanding of the feline race. I can’t be a true cat-lover in this circumstance.

I am an inconsequential Gentile female who hasn’t traveled outside of the states. My love for the Jews feels real, but I now doubt its strength and influence.

If I made a trip to the Holy Land, I would probably experience disillusionment. The Holy Land no longer reflects the atmosphere of the Old or New Testament. The lingering hints of Jesus’ presence are now commercialized; now the land entertains tourists. The land is missing its luster. The chosen people are missing their beauty. I am left to crave Jesus' return, which will restore Zion’s glory.

This next part is silly, but I wanted to share it. When the Jewish Christian asked for my name, I told him my name was Tamara. He smiled and said, “That is my wife’s name!” I heard God whisper: “It is the name of my wife as well.” He is sweet even in my incapability and unauthentic love.

The man I spoke with ministers to Jews through an organization called Chosen People Ministries. You may follow the link to learn about this ministry.