EVERYONE HAS A JEWISH GRANDMOTHER

In the 26 years that we have lived in Jerusalem we have met literally hundreds of Christians who devote a great deal of their time and money to Israel and Israeli causes.  When we ask them as we invariably do, what has caused them to develop this devotion we seldom get a satisfactory answer.  In fact, they usually seem unsure themselves.  A few have come from fundamentalist Christian backgrounds where the ‘Old Testament,’ was an integral part of their lives and a love of Israel and respect for the Jewish people is something they grew up with.  More often, however, they suddenly become aware of Israel later in life and can’t really explain why.   “G-d put it into my heart to work for Israel,” is the way it is often expressed.  Now as we have known many of these wonderful people over a period of years and meet them on each successive trips to Israel, another factor is emerging.  Jewish ancestry, of which they were hitherto, totally unaware.

IS THERE SUCH A THING AS A JEWISH GENE?

Repeatedly we have heard stories of the sudden discovery of a Jewish grand or great-grandparent, reluctantly told by a parent or relative who has not wanted to admit to this fact previously or discovered during research into family history.  This knowledge invariably becomes known years after the interest in Israel manifested itself and is hailed with great joy by the recipients who are enormously proud of being in possession of even a very diluted drop of Jewish blood.  This has led us to wonder if there is such a thing as a Jewish gene which can lie dormant for several generations before making itself known in the form of a sudden love for Israel and a desire to meet and help Jewish people.  Two experiences that happened on successive days last week have decided us that there is.

TWO RECENT EXPERIENCES.

Last Thursday we spent the evening with a delightful Dutch Christian couple who are renting the flat opposite us for three months while they study Hebrew at Ulpan to help them in their volunteer work with Israeli Holocaust survivors.  In the middle of the evening the wife suddenly asked us if we could tell if someone was Jewish by looking at a photograph of them, we agreed to try.  The husband opened up his laptop and showed us a photograph of a middle-aged man who couldn’t possibly have looked more Jewish, in fact he bore a striking resemblance to Lola’s paternal grandfather. “ He was my grandfather,” the wife told us, “ and I recently discovered that he was born in Poland but had never talked about his past.”  The following evening, we had invited an old friend, an Anglican vicar from the north of England, to join us for Friday night dinner.  We had met him first some years ago after we made contact with him because of a wonderful, pro-Israel letter he had sent to the Jerusalem Post.  He had just formed his own Christian travel company after having joined a tour to Israel that he felt was unsympathetic both to Israel and Judaism and we have since met with him and his groups on numerous visits and got to know his wife and two beautiful children. He had not been in our home long before he told us he had some very exciting news, he told us, emotionally, that he had recently discovered that he had Jewish blood, his grandfather who had always refused to discuss his past with anyone, had suddenly admitted to him that he originated from Hungary and was the only surviving member of his family, all of whom had been murdered in Auschwitz!

We rest our case.