Early Christianity wasn't a separate religion from Judaism; it was a Jewish movement. Jesus was Jewish. All the apostles were Jewish. The first Christians were Jewish. They worshiped in synagogues, kept the Law, and understood Jesus through thoroughly Jewish categories: Messiah, Son of Man, suffering servant, Passover lamb.
Yet somewhere along the way, Gentile Christianity largely severed itself from its Jewish roots. We read the Old Testament (if we read it at all) as mere background to the "real" story in the New Testament. We interpret Jesus through Greek philosophy rather than Jewish theology. We forget that when Paul writes about "Scripture," he means the Hebrew Bible—the New Testament didn't exist yet.
This disconnection impoverishes our faith and has contributed to centuries of Christian anti-Semitism. If we don't understand Christianity's essential Jewishness, we miss crucial dimensions of biblical teaching and we're more likely to view Judaism as obsolete or opposed to Christian faith.
Consider the Lord's Supper. We often treat it as a purely Christian innovation, but it's a Passover Seder reinterpreted through Jesus's death and resurrection. "This is my body... this is my blood of the covenant" makes sense only in light of Passover's themes: redemption from slavery, covenant relationship with God, sacrifice of the lamb, hope for future deliverance. Without the Jewish context, the Lord's Supper becomes generic ritual rather than the rich, multilayered observance Jesus instituted.
Or consider Paul's teaching on justification by faith. We often read this as a polemic against all "works-based religion," including Judaism. But Paul wasn't rejecting Judaism; he was arguing about how Gentiles enter the covenant community. The question wasn't "How does an individual achieve right standing with God?" but "Do Gentiles need to become Jews to be included in God's people?" Paul's answer: No, because faith in Messiah Jesus is the marker of covenant membership, not Torah observance.
This reading changes everything. Paul isn't contrasting Christianity (faith) with Judaism (works). He's explaining how God's promises to Israel are fulfilled in Jesus and extended to Gentiles. Judaism isn't the foil; it's the foundation.
Understanding Judaism also illuminates difficult passages. When Jesus says He came "not to abolish the Law but to fulfill it" (Matthew 5:17), we struggle to explain what this means. But in Jewish thought, "fulfilling" the Law meant bringing out its true meaning and enabling its proper observance. Jesus wasn't replacing Torah with grace; He was revealing Torah's ultimate purpose and enabling its internalization through the Spirit.
The Hebrew Bible uses covenant categories that are foreign to modern Western Christianity. We think in terms of individual salvation, personal relationship with God, and eternal destiny. But Scripture emphasizes corporate identity, covenant faithfulness, and God's purposes for a people through whom He'll bless the world.
When God calls Abraham, He's not primarily concerned with Abraham's individual salvation. He's establishing a covenant people through whom all nations will be blessed (Genesis 12:3). When God gives the Law at Sinai, He's not laying out requirements for individual righteousness. He's establishing the covenant terms for Israel's corporate life as His people.
Jesus doesn't abandon these categories; He fulfills them. He's the faithful Israelite who succeeds where Israel failed. He's the Messiah who inaugurates God's kingdom. He's the means by which God's covenant promises reach their intended goal: blessing for all nations.
As an autistic person, I appreciate Judaism's emphasis on practice and concrete observance. Christianity often focuses on belief and internal states—do you have faith? are you sincere?—which can be hard to assess. Judaism asks: What are you doing? How are you living? Are you observing the covenant?
This isn't "works righteousness." It's recognizing that faith expresses itself in tangible ways, that relationship with God involves concrete practices, and that belief and behavior are inseparable. James's statement that "faith apart from works is dead" (James 2:26) makes perfect sense from a Jewish perspective.
The early church understood this. Gentile Christians weren't required to keep all of Torah, but they weren't entirely free from it either. The apostolic decree in Acts 15 requires Gentile believers to observe certain basic laws. Paul himself continued observing Torah practices even while arguing Gentiles didn't need to. The early church saw itself as the continuation and fulfillment of Israel's story, not its replacement.
Replacement theology—the idea that the church replaces Israel as God's people—has been a disaster. It contributed to centuries of Christian persecution of Jews, culminating in the Holocaust. It's also biblically wrong. Paul explicitly rejects it: "Has God rejected his people? By no means!" (Romans 11:1). Israel's calling is "irrevocable" (Romans 11:29). The church doesn't replace Israel; Gentiles are grafted into Israel's olive tree (Romans 11:17-24).
Understanding this changes how we read Scripture. The Old Testament isn't a failed first attempt that Christianity corrects. It's the indispensable foundation without which Christianity is unintelligible. The promises to Israel aren't transferred to the church; they're fulfilled in Messiah Jesus and extended to include Gentiles.
This has contemporary implications. Christian support for or opposition to modern Israel should be based on careful thinking about justice, politics, and international relations—not on careless application of biblical prophecy. But we should reject any theology that treats Judaism as obsolete or Jews as outside God's covenant purposes.
We should also learn from Jewish interpretive traditions. Rabbinic methods of reading Scripture—midrash, Talmudic argumentation, attention to textual details—can enrich Christian biblical interpretation. Jews have been reading these texts for thousands of years; we're foolish to ignore their insights.
I've found studying Judaism deepens my Christian faith. Learning about Sabbath practices enriches my understanding of rest. Studying the Passover illuminates the Lord's Supper. Understanding Jewish apocalyptic literature helps me read Revelation. Grappling with rabbinic interpretations challenges and refines my readings of Scripture.
Christianity is a Jewish religion. Jesus is the Jewish Messiah. The God we worship is the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Our Scriptures are Jewish texts. Our earliest theology was articulated by Jewish believers. Forgetting this doesn't make us more Christian; it makes us less biblical.
Gentile Christians should approach Judaism with humility and gratitude. We've been grafted into a story that isn't originally ours, welcomed into a covenant family where we were once outsiders. The Jewish people gave us the Scriptures, the prophets, the apostles, and Jesus Himself. We owe them honor, not contempt.
Recovering Christianity's Jewish roots doesn't mean Gentiles must observe Torah or celebrate Jewish festivals (though some do, and that's fine). It means reading Scripture in its Jewish context, understanding Jesus as a Jewish Messiah, appreciating Judaism as a living tradition with ongoing validity, and rejecting any theology that demeans or dismisses the Jewish people.
Our faith is richer, deeper, and more biblical when we remember: Jesus didn't come to start a new religion. He came to fulfill the promises made to Israel and extend them to all nations. Christianity is Judaism fulfilled and opened to the world—and it's only truly understood when we remember its Jewish heart.