Welcoming Simple Faith and Encouraging Unity...

B”H

A question came to me (The Rabbi of Shtiebel)...

Question: I follow Yeshua and I believe Judaism is true and want to live as and be a Jew is that possible to do so and follow Yeshua?

Answer: Read the following essay and you will have the answer at the end...

First we have to start with two tales, one from the Talmud Taanis 23b, the second from Mishnat Chachamim

Taanis 23b

§ The Gemara relates another story about a descendant of Ḥoni HaMe’aggel. Ḥanan HaNeḥba was the son of Ḥoni HaMe’aggel’s daughter. When the world was in need of rain, the Sages would send schoolchildren to him, and they would grab him by the hem of his cloak and say to him: Father, Father, give us rain. He said before the Holy One, Blessed be He: Master of the Universe, act on behalf of these children, who cannot distinguish between their Fatherin Heaven, who can provide rain, and the father who cannot provide rain. The Gemara asks: And why was he called Ḥanan HaNeḥba? Because he would hide [maḥbi] himself in the lavatory so that people would not bestow honor upon him.

In his book Mishnat Chachamim, Rabbi Moshe Hagiz recounts a story he heard from trustworthy witnesses in Safed.

In the mid-16th century, a converso Jew from Portugal moved to the holy city of Safed. Having been forced to hide his Jewish identity in his youth, he was overjoyed to finally practice Judaism openly.

Years later, he listened intently as the rabbi of his synagogue spoke about the lechem hapanim, the “showbread” offered in the Holy Temple each Shabbat (Leviticus 24:5–9). The rabbi described the meticulous preparation of the loaves and the mystical significance of the offering, lamenting that, due to our sins, we could no longer present this offering to G‑d.

The Jew took this deeply to heart. He asked his wife to prepare two special challahs each Friday, instructing her to sift the flour thirteen times, knead it while in a state of ritual purity, and bake it thoroughly. He explained that he wished to offer these loaves to G‑d, hoping they might be accepted as an offering.

His wife faithfully fulfilled his request. Each Friday afternoon, he would quietly take the freshly baked loaves to the synagogue, placing them in the Holy Ark beneath the Torah scrolls, praying with all his heart that G‑d would accept them as an offering.

Meanwhile, the synagogue’s caretaker, who checked the Torah scrolls each Friday, began finding the loaves in the Ark. Not knowing where they came from, he decided to take them home to enjoy with his family.

Each week, the Jew would check the Ark after services and joyfully report to his wife that G‑d had accepted their offering. The couple continued this practice for many weeks, believing that their gift brought G‑d pleasure.

One Friday, the rabbi of the synagogue stayed much later than usual, until the afternoon. It was the same rabbi who had given the speech about the “showbread” that had so inspired the converso from Portugal. He was standing on the bimah (reading platform), reviewing the sermon he planned to give the next day, when, to his surprise, he saw one of his congregants enter carrying two loaves of bread, walk up to the Ark, and deposit them inside. He realized that the man was unaware of his presence, and he heard him utter fervent prayers for G‑d to accept his offering and enjoy the challahs.

The rabbi listened in astonishment. At first he was silent, but as he began to understand what was going on, his anger rose. Finally he was unable to restrain himself any longer, and burst out in fury: “Stop! You fool! How can you think that our G‑d eats and drinks? It is a terrible sin to ascribe human or any physical qualities to G‑d Almighty. You actually believe it is the L‑rd who takes your measly loaves?

Why, it is probably the shamash who eats them.” At that moment the caretaker entered the synagogue, blithely expecting to pick up his challahs, as usual. He was a bit startled to see the rabbi and another man standing there. The rabbi immediately confronted him. “Tell this man why you came here now, and who has been taking the two challahs he has been bringing each week.”

The caretaker freely admitted it. He wasn’t embarrassed at all. He couldn’t understand why the rabbi was so agitated, and why he was yelling at the other man, who looked so unhappy, whom he knew to be an unlearned but sincere Jew.

As the rabbi continued his rebuke, the man burst into tears. He was crushed. Not only had he not done a mitzvah as he had thought, it seemed he was guilty of a great sin. He apologized to the rabbi for having misunderstood his lesson about the showbread, and begged him to forgive him. He left the shul in shame and despair. How could he have been so wrong? What was he to do now? Shortly after, a messenger arrived from the “Holy Ari,” Rabbi Yitzchak Luria, with a message for the rabbi. He told him to prepare for his soul’s departure before Shabbat, as a heavenly decree had been sealed against him for halting G‑d’s pleasure in the simple, heartfelt offerings of the converso.

Shortly thereafter, a messenger from the “Holy Ari,” Rabbi Yitzchak Luria, strode into the synagogue and approached the rabbi. In the name of his master, he told the rabbi to go home, say goodbye to his family, and prepare himself: by the designated time for his sermon the next morning, his soul would have already departed to its eternal rest. Thus it had been announced from Heaven.

The rabbi couldn’t believe what he had just heard, nor could the disciple explain it to him. So the rabbi went directly to the Ari, who confirmed the message and added, as gently as possible: “I heard that it is because you halted G‑d’s pleasure, the likes of which He hasn’t enjoyed since the day the Holy Temple was destroyed. That is what He felt when this innocent converso would bring his two precious loaves to your shul each week, faithfully offering them to G‑d from the depths of his heart with joy and awe, and believing that G‑d had taken them, until you irrevocably destroyed his innocence.

For this the decree was sealed against you, and there is no possibility to change it.” The rabbi went home and told his family all that had transpired. By the time of the sermon the next morning, his soul had already departed to hear Torah in the Heavenly academy, exactly as the Ari had said..

Rabbi Yitzchak Luria (1534–1572), known as “the Holy Ari,” revolutionized the study of Kabbalah and its integration into mainstream Judaism during the two years he spent in Safed before his passing at age 38.

Judaism’s rich history includes figures whose lives and teachings embody the beauty of sincere, simple faith. Among them are Hanan ben HaNechba, Yeshua of Nazareth, and later spiritual leaders, each representing a unique aspect of Jewish spirituality. While differing in context and legacy, these figures invite us to consider how, within Judaism, there are those who seek profound connections to the Divine—sometimes in ways that diverge from traditional beliefs. As we encounter contemporary Jews with deep faith who hold untraditional beliefs about Yeshua, it is vital to explore how these believers can be embraced within the broader Jewish community without diminishing their faith.

In the tale of Hanan ben HaNechba, grandson of the famed Honi HaMe’agel, it is not Hanan’s own faith but the faith of children that drives the story’s lesson. Children, in their innocent trust and reverence, mistook Hanan for HaShem Himself. They saw his dedication and heard his prayers and, in their simple faith, believed he was the Divine. Far from being rebuked or disillusioned, their faith was respected and nurtured, revealing how pure belief, though sometimes misdirected, can bring individuals closer to holiness. Similarly, followers of Yeshua within the Jewish community—many of whom observe Halacha, uphold Jewish customs, and deeply desire a connection to Jewish spirituality—are often driven by a simple, profound faith. Like the children in the story, their faith may sometimes be shaped by interpretations that differ from traditional Judaism. Yet, if we honor their faith without attempting to destroy or delegitimize it, we create an environment of acceptance, rather than one of exclusion.

The story of the converso Jew in Safed illustrates the delicate balance needed when interacting with those whose beliefs stem from a place of devotion but may lack formal understanding. This man, having lived through persecution, expressed his faith with pure intent by offering loaves as "showbread," only to be met with rebuke from a rabbi who misunderstood his sincerity. Instead of correcting his practice gently, the rabbi shattered the man’s sense of religious purpose, leading to unforeseen consequences. This account, preserved in Rabbi Moshe Hagiz’s Mishnat Chachamim, reminds us that even well-meaning corrections can have damaging effects when they lack empathy. The sincere offerings of Messianic Jews, who may hold Yeshua in a special place, should be met not with harsh dismissal but with appreciation for their devotion. Rather than tearing down their beliefs, we should foster their connection to the Jewish community, honoring their observance and dedication.

By understanding these stories, we can approach our fellow Jews with compassion, seeing in them the same striving toward the Divine that animates our own practices. In the case of Hanan ben HaNechba, the faith of the children was unbroken; their spiritual yearning was respected, if not wholly understood. Likewise, Messianic Jews who practice traditional Judaism and honor Yeshua should be welcomed into the broader Jewish community, free from judgment or forced labels that could divide.

Concepts of Elokist and Meshichist Movements

In the Hasidic movement elevating your Rebbe to Mochiach is “normal”, but Chabad took it to a higher level…

Menachem Mendel Schneerson, the Lubavitcher Rebbe, holds a prominent place in contemporary Jewish history. Within Chabad, he is revered as a tzaddik and a spiritual leader, with some followers regarding him as the Messiah. Among these followers, particularly within the Elokist and Meshichist movements, there exists a trend to attribute divine qualities to the Rebbe. The Elokist perspective, which views the Rebbe as having divine characteristics, represents a more nuanced interplay between human and divine qualities in modern Jewish thought. While mainstream Chabad acknowledges his spiritual greatness, they typically stop short of asserting divinity. Meshichistim, who believe the Rebbe to be the Messiah, foster a reverence that, while anchored in traditional respect for tzaddikim, sometimes blurs into views seen by critics as bordering on divine attribution. Like the children’s perception of Hanan ben HaNechba or the early Christian view of Yeshua, the Elokist movement reflects the human tendency to elevate revered figures.

Similarities and Differences in Perceptions of Divinity

The comparisons among Hanan ben HaNechba, Yeshua, and Schneerson reveal significant similarities in how followers perceive divinity in spiritual leaders. In each case, these figures are respected for their profound qualities and perceived closeness to God. Children’s misinterpretations of Honi as divine echo the early view of Yeshua as messianic with divine authority, while the Elokist perspective on Schneerson reflects a similar reverence that occasionally extends into divine-like attribution. Yet, fundamental differences remain: Hanan is firmly situated within traditional Jewish boundaries, emphasizing human agency and rejecting divine attribution. Yeshua’s legacy diverges distinctly, leading to Christian doctrines that integrate divinity directly into his identity. Schneerson’s followers, especially Elokists, embody a unique blend of reverence with semi-divine attribution, though this remains contentious in Jewish theology. In each case, these legacies underscore the complex ways humans seek to understand and connect with the Divine.

Encouraging Unity and Avoiding Labels

In fostering inclusivity, it is essential to move beyond labels such as Messianic Jew, Hebrew Christian, Hebrew Rooter, and Hebrew Restorationist. These terms, while descriptive, often emphasize division and suggest that such believers are set apart from Judaism. Instead, we need to embracing them as Jews on their own unique spiritual paths honors their identity without setting up unnecessary barriers. This approach aligns with the principle of "kol Yisrael arevim zeh bazeh"—that all Jews are responsible for one another—highlighting the importance of unity even in the face of diversity. By refraining from labels, we acknowledge that within Judaism, there are various interpretations and pathways, and we affirm the shared heritage (which is Torah and Halacha) that unites us all.

Embracing believers with simple faith, particularly those whose faith diverges from conventional views, strengthens the Jewish community by adding depth and diversity to the fabric of Judaism. Rather than seeing these believers as outsiders, we can choose to see them as part of the extended Jewish family. Their dedication to Torah, mitzvot, halachoth and the Jewish way of life brings value to the community and inspires others to look at Judaism as a faith of compassion and inclusion. Encouraging dialogue, study, and shared experiences allows the Jewish community to grow stronger and become more open to various expressions of faith, while still upholding torah, halachic, and traditional values.

“Many of these individuals demonstrate a deep commitment to not only Torah but Halacha, meticulously observing Jewish laws and customs, which strengthens their connection and inclusion within the broader Jewish community. This dedication aligns their practices with traditional Jewish observance, reinforcing a sense of shared heritage. Additionally, shared Torah study among community members, regardless of differing beliefs, cultivates a space for mutual growth and connection, encouraging all to engage with the wisdom and insights of Judaism together. Historically, Jewish communities have encompassed diverse paths and interpretations, coexisting with respect and commitment to core values, reminding us of the richness that diversity can bring to collective Jewish life.”

Conclusion

In the end, the stories of Hanan ben HaNechba, the converso in Safed, followers Yeshua of Nazareth as well as some followers Menachem Schneerson and other Hasidic Luminaries such as Rebbe Nachman of Breslov illustrate a central truth about faith: that even simple or nontraditional beliefs can bring individuals close to HaShem. We should honor this closeness and encourage a welcoming community that respects each person’s path. By fostering unity and avoiding divisive labels, we create an inclusive space that values every Jew’s devotion, reflecting the ideal of one nation under HaShem, diverse yet united in purpose.

Here is the answer to the question.

Question: I follow Yeshua and I believe Judaism is true and want to live as and be a Jew is that possible to do so and follow Yeshua?

For those who wish to join the Jewish people and sincerely convert, the path is one of commitment to Judaism and its covenantal relationship with HaShem. Traditional conversion requires a commitment to Judaism alone, setting aside other spiritual paths. This journey involves embracing the Torah, the mitzvot, and Jewish practice within the framework of halacha (Jewish law), which doesn’t traditionally include belief in Yeshua as a divine figure.

However, this needs to change. The evolving landscape of Jewish identity and faith requires an open-minded consideration of the many spiritual journeys people take. In this new era, the essence of Jewish connection—centered on HaShem, Torah, mitzvot, and halachah—remains unchanged. Yet, there is room for more expansive definitions of inclusion, because many followers of Yeshua are more dedicated to HaShem and His Torah than most born Jews.

This recognition challenges us to rethink boundaries within our Jewish community, where sincerity, commitment, and devotion to Torah should be the defining qualities, regardless of one’s origin. Many who follow Yeshua maintain a deep reverence for the Jewish covenant and the commandments, often embodying the very values that are central to Jewish life. In embracing this reality, we acknowledge that faithfulness to HaShem and His Torah is what truly binds us together, rather than the particulars of belief in Yeshua’s divinity.

Thus, while traditional Jewish law still holds that conversion requires full commitment to Judaism alone, there is an opportunity to reconsider how we include those who, while affirming their relationship with Yeshua, also live in accordance with the teachings of Torah. By expanding our view of who can belong to the Jewish community, we open the door to a more inclusive, compassionate understanding of Jewish identity one that welcomes those drawn to HaShem, Torah, and mitzvot, regardless of their prior paths.

So the answer to your question is a simple but complexed

Yes.