Salvation and B’Midbar.
– by TM Garret Schmid
The first time I thought about Salvation in a Jewish context was in February this year when I was asked by an old friend, who I once helped on his journey leaving a hate group and escaping substance abuse, to come to his church to speak to his congregation. I am not a preacher. I am not a Christian. What should I talk about?
My friend Shane, who asked me to come to East Tennessee, to give his church members hope, had become clean, changed his life, became a prison chaplain, then Bishop and now runs a sober living program with 60 beds. The inhabitants of this program were his congregants.
I felt disconnected. I had a connection point with Shane, and he had a connection point with his congregation. But I did not. How would I bridge this gap. How could I find this missing link? Was there one in the first place?
So I procrastinated, as I do so often, and the night before day he asked me to come, I started thinking and practicing a speech. A sermon. And as so often my thoughts were flowing while I was talking to myself in my kitchen. And it came like out of nothing, when I asked myself again: What do I have in common with them? And then the next question: Why were they there? Other than a court who told them that they had to do this one-year program? They had hit rock bottom. They were at the bottom of the barrel, believing that they were going to hell if they’d continue what they were doing. They wanted to be saved.
ROCK BOTTOM
But what does it mean to be saved? They were looking for salvation. So does salvation begin when we hit rock bottom?
And what does Rock Bottom mean? Even kids have ‘rock bottom’ moments—like when you make a big mistake, or you feel like you can’t fix something. But that’s when you can ask for help, and that’s when real change can start
That’s moment when the light bulb pops up and we realize we need to change and often we need help with that. But we can’t accept help until we acknowledge we need it. But once that awareness dawns, what comes next? Is salvation simply a matter of saying the right words, attending services, or performing rituals? Like the concept of cheap salvation? Snipping fingers and I am ok because someone else did it for me? Or in a Christian context someone died for me? And I won’t have to do anything?
I personally don’t think so. If salvation was free and required nothing more than lip service-why would there be commandments? Why would both Judaism and Christianity emphasize ethical behavior? The existence commandments in itself proves that salvation requires work.
THE CHRISTIAN PERSPECTIVE
Let’s look at the Christian context:
In Mark’s Gospel, when Jesus is asked about the greatest commandment, he responds by quoting the Shema. “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one.” He then continues with the V’ahavta: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength”. The Shema isn’t just any prayer – it’s the defining text that has shaped Jewish identity for millennia. It’s the first prayer that we recite upon waking and the last before sleeping. During times of persecution, it was even used as a means of identification among Jews in hiding.
The word “Shema” itself means more than just “hear”. It commands us not just to listen but to internalize, submit to, and live in accordance with what follows. So in Christian tradition, when Jesus quotes this prayer, he’s not creating a new teaching but drawing from the very heart of Torah wisdom. He was Jewish after all.
What Christians often overlook is that Jesus adds “mind” to the traditional V’ahavta. This addition emphasizes that our intellect must also be devoted to loving God. It’s not just about blindly following. Our rational thought must align with our emotions and actions. The complete engagement of our being is required.
The second commandment he was talking about Love your neighbor as yourself”-comes from Leviticus 19:18. Together, these commandments encompass the entirety of the Law and the Prophets. The vertical relationship with God and the horizontal relationship with neighbors form the complete picture of spiritual life. And when we are talking about neighbors, we mean all people. Anybody can become our neighbor. In Leviticus 19:34 it commands us to love the stranger in the land as ourselves. We are not getting to choose. God commands so.
Looking deeper at these commandments, I notice a recurring element: “love” and “thyself.” If you can’t love yourself, you won’t know what love is. You can’t receive it, and you can’t give it. You can’t receive God’s love, and you can’t love God either. Self-love isn’t selfishness-it’s the foundation upon which all other love is built.
That means If you can’t love yourself, it’s hard to love others. God wants us to love ourselves—so we can share that love with our friends, our family, and even people we don’t know yet and even people that other’s tell us we are not supposed to love because they are different.
The Hebrew word for “strength” in the V’ahavta is “me’od,” which literally means “very” or “much”. It’s used over 300 times in Scripture, usually as an adverb to enhance another word’s meaning. In the context of the V’ahavta, it suggests loving God with all of your “muchness”-devoting every opportunity, possibility, and capacity you have to honoring God. It’s not just about physical strength but about the totality of your resources and abilities.
This is where transformation begins. We must look inward. We must start with ourselves because that’s all we truly control our actions and reactions. You need to be okay with yourself, with your heart and soul. Otherwise, how can you fulfill the commandment to love God with all your heart and soul if your heart and soul don’t know love? If they only know self-hatred, you’ll project that onto God and others.
Even as a Jew who doesn’t view Jesus as Christians typically do, I find wisdom in his statement about being “the way and the life.” Perhaps this means following teachings of love to reach God-to love God completely, to love yourself completely. The path isn’t about theological doctrines but about transformation through love.
Consider the Hebrew word for prayer, which also connotes introspection. Why is the side of our head called a temple? Because the divine connection happens within us. God’s very name in Hebrew-“I am who I am”-suggests presence and being, not distant authority.
HEALING THE SICK IS GODLY
What if instead of saying “God heals the sick,” we said “Healing the sick is godly”? What if instead of “God saves,” we said “Saving is godly”? This perspective shift makes spirituality tangible and actionable. It places responsibility on us to embody divine attributes rather than merely worship them.
This approach to salvation works even for skeptics. It doesn’t require supernatural beliefs-just recognition that love, beginning with self-acceptance, transforms us and our relationships. It simply means salvation isn’t passive. It requires active participation in becoming more loving. For Jews it acknowledges that these core teachings echo Torah wisdom about loving God and neighbor. But also, about loving ourselves and being aware of our actions, pledging to do better – something we are reminded of every Yom Kippur.
The Yom Kippur practice of reflection, repentance, and renewal parallels the Christian concept of salvation through transformation. Both traditions recognize that meaningful change requires honest self-examination and commitment to improvement. Both understand that being “saved” means becoming more loving, more just, more compassionate.
It isn’t about magic words or perfect attendance at services. It’s about transformation from the inside out. It begins with loving yourself enough to recognize your worth and potential. It continues as you extend that love to others and to God. And it manifests as you embody godly attributes in your daily actions.
Whether you’re in recovery from addiction, struggling with self-worth, questioning your faith, or simply seeking meaning, this path offers hope. Not the false hope of easy salvation, but the authentic hope of becoming who you were meant to be-a being capable of profound love, starting with yourself.
When I chose humanity, when I chose respecting and loving myself, when I chose to treat and love others as myself, I also chose God and Torah without knowing it. I decided I would ‘do,’ just as the Israelites said ‘we will do’ when they accepted the Torah at Mount Sinai. When I hit rock bottom and arrived at my very own personal Mount Sinai, and when I said ‘I do,’ I laid the path for what was to come. It was my Jewish awakening without knowing it. It was the road of me becoming a Jew. It was my first commitment to do God’s work – the work He commanded in the Torah. My journey has been accompanied by many ‘whys.’ It’s like kids when they ask these WHY questions… It may sound annoying to some adults, but it’s a very Jewish thing. The curiosity that makes us want to learn. The more questions you ask, the more you’re learning and growing. That’s what being Jewish is all about.
And my many WHYs included the question of whether I was on the right track and if this was really what I wanted. I didn’t realize the answer was lying in my questions. I became aware that the mere commitment and the following journey on this path to conversion—and accepting the Torah—was bearing the answer already.
Like in the recent Sedrah – B’Midbar the desert the Israelites were in, receiving the Torah, opening their eyes and betrothing God as a people, as a nation. Renewing and confirming the covenant with Abraham. Like the Israelites were enlightened by the giving of the Torah and by the teachings of the Torah itself, I found enlightenment at my personal Mt Sinai. I wasn’t aware of it, but this Shavuot is laying in front of me. Unraveled. In all clarity. My past was my desert. My wilderness. Now I can see clearly. I am not lost anymore.
So if you ever feel lost or unsure, remember: that’s just your own wilderness. And just like the Israelites, you can find your way, learn new things, and become the best version of yourself.
