Jew and Gentile against the Wall

So there I was at the Washington-Dulles International airport, threading my way through hundreds of delayed passengers, looking for an outlet in order to recharge my iBook before the long flight across the pond. Finally finding one outside the men’s restroom, I plopped down, plugged in my computer, leaned my back against the wall, and pulled out my bible. I sat there feeling mildly self-conscious, reading through Mark and occasionally glancing up for brief spurts of people-watching, when I noticed a young orthodox Jew walking by carrying a guitar and a few bags.

As he passed by me, I thought about how his attire significantly set him apart from the rest of the crowd. At work in the back of my mind was an article I had read earlier entitled “The Scandal of the Evangelical Conscience” by Ronald J. Sider. In this article Sider sharply critiques Western evangelical Christianity, showing how “our very lifestyle as evangelicals is a ringing practical denial of the miraculous in our lives.” Sider cites statistic after indicting statistic of how evangelicals largely conform to society rather than participate in its transformation. Very little in our behavior sets us apart from the rest of our culture.

As I wondered whether my own life looked any different from any other American, I glimpsed in the passing Jew the significance of how outward attire could reflect an inward reality Colossians 3.1-17 came to mind, especially these verses: "Do not lie to one another, since you laid aside the old self with its evil practices, and have put on the new self who is being renewed to a true knowledge according to the image of the One who created him — a renewal in which there is no distinction between Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave and freeman, but Christ is all, and in all. And so, as those who have been chosen of God, holy and beloved, put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience...."

A few moments later the same guy returned, set his belongings by the wall, and pulled out his prayer book. There, for the next 10 minutes, passersby glanced our way, raising eyebrows as they hurried past an orthodox evangelical Christian sitting against a wall reading his bible and silently praying for the orthodox Jew who was bowing and murmuring and quietly singing his prayers to his God. I felt a kinship with this fellow exile, and I was emboldened by his shameless devotion to God. At the same time, the sad irony of the situation was brought into sharp relief as I read of the Messiah for whom Nathan (as his name turned out to be) was waiting. I knew that the very thing that had the potential to unite us – faith in God – was the very thing that kept us separated as Jew and Gentile.