How come I go on about how awful Jews are but still remain one? If I don't like Jews so much why don't I do what Shamir and Gilad have done and stop being one?
Well, first of all, it's not as easy as it looks. Shamir found Christ and as far as I can see, that happens or it doesn't happen and so far, it hasn't happened for me. And I don't think Gilad would disagree too much if I said that he's not so much become an ex-Jew' as he's striving to become an ex-Jew. But I'm not. Not only do I find it near impossible to renounce the Jew in me, I don't even try.
And this enrages people, especially those pushed to the edge by Jewish oppression. Going on about how dreadful Jews are whilst loudly proclaiming to be one, I mean, how Jewy can you get?
Last October, Dan McGowan, Henry Herskovitz and I had the pleasure of visiting Ingrid Zundel at her home in Tennessee's Blue Mountains. This was the retreat Ernst and Ingrid had chosen for their retirement and from which Ernst was dragged in leg-irons to begin his decades-long (and ongoing) ordeal.
We'd enjoyed Ingrid's well-appointed guest-house, the magnificent library, the resource centre, the gallery and now we're in her beautiful home. Ingrid is serving us lunch. She claims she's no cook but the meatballs, pasta and salad are just delicious and I've just polished off my second helping when, for some reason I start telling everyone the story of the death of Moses.
I really don't know why I decide to tell it. Maybe because Moses is like a grandpa to me - a knowing and kindly old gentleman who always watches over me (We are what we are...). and even more, I don't know quite why I decided to tell it just then.
Anyway, the story I tell is the final section of a concoction of mine on the life of Moses which I'd made up one day thirty years ago whilst on a day out with my own children.
We've all got to die some day and despite Moses' entreaties, God has decided Moses' day has come. So He tells the Archangel Michael to go down to earth and bring Him Moses' soul. But Michael doesn't want to do it. He says that for sure Moses is a man, but he's a man who knew God face to face so how can he, Michael, presume to fetch such a soul?. God then turns to the Archangel Gabriel who also demurs. It seems that when Moses was writing the Law he, Gabriel, was Moses' teacher so how can he now take his soul??
So there's nothing for it, God will have to fetch the soul Himself. So He addresses Moses' soul directly: "Little daughter, (souls are always female), "Little daughter, you must now leave this man and come back to Me." But Moses' soul also isn't having any. "Father", she says, "I've lived with this man for one hundred and twenty years and I've grown to love him, how can I leave him?"
Now, with divine understanding and also some exasperation God knows what He has to do and He leans over and presses the gentlest of kisses on Moses' face.
Well, that's it. A soul can only take so much rapture and, in sheer joy, Moses' soul flutters up to Paradise.
And that's where I start to come over all emotional, my voice cracks and embarrassed, I say "Oh, I'm so sorry I really don't know why that story gets me like that".
And Ingrid just looks up, shrugs and mutters, "You just love your people".
She's right of course, as was Ernst Zundel when I met him, as was David Duke when I spoke to him. I do love my people - just like Ingrid, Ernst and David love theirs. And it's an involuntary, unconditional love - like the love of a mother for her child - so it doesn't matter how awful Jews are (and they are pretty awful), or how badly they behave (they do behave disgracefully).
So that's why I love my people and stay a Jew - because we are what we are.
Well, first of all, it's not as easy as it looks. Shamir found Christ and as far as I can see, that happens or it doesn't happen and so far, it hasn't happened for me. And I don't think Gilad would disagree too much if I said that he's not so much become an ex-Jew' as he's striving to become an ex-Jew. But I'm not. Not only do I find it near impossible to renounce the Jew in me, I don't even try.
And this enrages people, especially those pushed to the edge by Jewish oppression. Going on about how dreadful Jews are whilst loudly proclaiming to be one, I mean, how Jewy can you get?
Last October, Dan McGowan, Henry Herskovitz and I had the pleasure of visiting Ingrid Zundel at her home in Tennessee's Blue Mountains. This was the retreat Ernst and Ingrid had chosen for their retirement and from which Ernst was dragged in leg-irons to begin his decades-long (and ongoing) ordeal.
We'd enjoyed Ingrid's well-appointed guest-house, the magnificent library, the resource centre, the gallery and now we're in her beautiful home. Ingrid is serving us lunch. She claims she's no cook but the meatballs, pasta and salad are just delicious and I've just polished off my second helping when, for some reason I start telling everyone the story of the death of Moses.
I really don't know why I decide to tell it. Maybe because Moses is like a grandpa to me - a knowing and kindly old gentleman who always watches over me (We are what we are...). and even more, I don't know quite why I decided to tell it just then.
Anyway, the story I tell is the final section of a concoction of mine on the life of Moses which I'd made up one day thirty years ago whilst on a day out with my own children.
We've all got to die some day and despite Moses' entreaties, God has decided Moses' day has come. So He tells the Archangel Michael to go down to earth and bring Him Moses' soul. But Michael doesn't want to do it. He says that for sure Moses is a man, but he's a man who knew God face to face so how can he, Michael, presume to fetch such a soul?. God then turns to the Archangel Gabriel who also demurs. It seems that when Moses was writing the Law he, Gabriel, was Moses' teacher so how can he now take his soul??
So there's nothing for it, God will have to fetch the soul Himself. So He addresses Moses' soul directly: "Little daughter, (souls are always female), "Little daughter, you must now leave this man and come back to Me." But Moses' soul also isn't having any. "Father", she says, "I've lived with this man for one hundred and twenty years and I've grown to love him, how can I leave him?"
Now, with divine understanding and also some exasperation God knows what He has to do and He leans over and presses the gentlest of kisses on Moses' face.
Well, that's it. A soul can only take so much rapture and, in sheer joy, Moses' soul flutters up to Paradise.
And that's where I start to come over all emotional, my voice cracks and embarrassed, I say "Oh, I'm so sorry I really don't know why that story gets me like that".
And Ingrid just looks up, shrugs and mutters, "You just love your people".
She's right of course, as was Ernst Zundel when I met him, as was David Duke when I spoke to him. I do love my people - just like Ingrid, Ernst and David love theirs. And it's an involuntary, unconditional love - like the love of a mother for her child - so it doesn't matter how awful Jews are (and they are pretty awful), or how badly they behave (they do behave disgracefully).
So that's why I love my people and stay a Jew - because we are what we are.