CLOSE-UP

They have advanced academic degrees, high paying jobs,
Hebrew school and a "good Jewish background."
Now they have Jesus.

different sort
of spirituality
is in this
room.
It's a hot,
extremely
humid Satur-
day morning. The kind of
humidity that soaks the
small of your back and
makes it uncomfortable to
sit, stand, or do anything.
None of the 40 wor-
shipers seems to care,
however, in the close, dim-
ly lit chapel of the Nor-
thwestern Baptist Church
in Southfield. Arms in the
air, with a slight sway,
they sing praises to the
God they call the Jewish
messiah, Yeshua or Jesus.
They say this as if they
own Jesus, as if the gen-
tiles took him on loan. He
is their Jewish savior. Eyes
shut and palms upward
they whisper, "Thank you,
Jesus; thank you, Jesus."
The conversation is per-
sonal. They know beyond a
shadow of a doubt that
Jesus hears this.
Some of the men wear
talleisim (prayer shawls). A
small child, whose father is
lost in rapture, plays with
a pair of tzitzit, blue fring-
ed.
Loren Jacobs, the spiri-
tual leader of Congregation
Sh'ma Yisrael, one of at
least two such Messianic
congregations in the area,
begins the recitation of the
Sh'ma. The spiritual level
climbs another notch. With
tears in her eyes, a woman
says, "The Lord is one."
Her face changes. She's not
in the room anymore, in-
stead reaching up and
grabbing for something
only she and her fellow
congregants see. Then her
lips, as tender as if she
were delivering a kiss,
whisper the name
"Yeshua."
Only the words of Mr.
Jacobs tether the woman to
the here and now. The con-
gregation stays standing as
the 34-year-old Southfield
resident recites the bless-

A

24

FRIDAY, JULY 5, 1991

ing said before a passage of
the Torah is read. He then
opens a combination Old
and New Testament and
preaches to the congrega-
tion.
There are two choices,
Mr. Jacobs tells the con-
gregation. Jews can choose
to follow the laws of the
Torah through belief in
Yeshua. Or they can choose
not to. Yeshua, he says, is
God's sin offering to the
Jewish people. There is no
in-between. You can come
to synagogue several times
a year and do a mitzvah
here and there, but that is
not going to get you heaven
bound. He admonishes the
congregation to come to
synagogue more often and
to live a Messianic
lifestyle. Part of that
lifestyle is to be victorious
in love for Yeshua.
The laughter of children
in the Sabbath school in
another room shakes the
mood. A woman takes a
clarinet and begins to play
in a subdued tone while
congregants make a per-
sonal offering to Jesus,
taking a bite of matzah and
a sip of grape juice. The
quiet, underlying tone of
spirituality continues.
Words of songs are followed
with the help of an overhead
projector. People touch one
another.
The crazies are not here.
The fringe element is not to
be seen. Only a group of
people dressed mostly in
respectable clothing, whose
participants say they feel
an energy of holiness that
transcends responsive
readings, brotherhood
bingos and High Holiday
tickets. For the uninitiated
it's all too unsettling. It's
all too different. It's the
sameness though in
mainline Judaism that the
Messianics want. It's the
sameness with' a difference.
In this room, for these
people on this Saturday in
Southfield, is God. The
congregants tell you this
by their prayer, their ac-
tions, their quiet moments.