My First Seder; The Last Supper

“The First Seder, the Last Supper.” What on earth is that? That was the title given by Hillel (the Jewish ministry on our campus) to an event that we co-sponsored with them last spring at Florida Atlantic University. Yes, it’s true! InterVarsity Christian Fellowship and Hillel spent an entire evening together to celebrate Passover—the traditional Jewish festival and meal. In fact, we were invited by them to co-sponsor the event. Perhaps you’re thinking, He’s kidding—and if he isn’t, they certainly didn’t talk about Jesus openly! On the contrary, we were asked to share all we knew about “the Christian perspective of the Seder.” Hopefully, many questions are beginning to run through your mind as you read this remarkable story, including Okay, so what is the Christian perspective on the Seder? You may not have known that Jesus is linked to the Seder or that the Last Supper itself was a Passover meal. This story is remarkable on many levels, but mostly because it is a story that begins and ends with the work of God, and it all began with a “hello.”

The fall semester had begun and I was sitting at our IVCF table in the central breezeway on campus, hoping to meet some excited Christians—perhaps even potential leaders if the Lord so desired. As I peered up and down the breezeway, smiling and praying for God to bring his people to our table, or help me go to them, there was suddenly a young woman right next to me frantically unloading a suitcase full of stuff on her table. I said, “Hello, do you want some help?” She said, “Yes, definitely! I can’t believe I’m so late.”

After setting the table up and helping her tie a banner to the front of it, I saw “Hillel” in huge letters on the front. She then asked, “So, what club are you with?”

“InterVarsity Christian Fellowship,” I said.

Then, it came—the “look.” I’ve seen it many times before, but this time it was as if an overhead projector was shining her thoughts at me: Oh great, a Christian. He must be helping me so he can try to convert me. I need to move. Where are my students? Oh, God, help me.

So I said what any good Christian would say after I shared our club name: “But don’t worry, I’m just helping you so I can get a piece of candy from you.” She had just placed a large bucket of it on the table.

The thought projector seemed to vanish as she laughed—and a conversation was born. I never imagined that this particular “hello,” on this particular day, would turn into a long-term friendship with Summer, the campus staff for Hillel. After that week, we decided we’d save each other a table if one of us was late and sit next to each other in the breezeway.

I left campus deep in prayer. I asked God to help me, to open my eyes, and to make me like him in this situation. This was his work, not mine. I knew I had to be the message before I could share the message of Christ with Summer, or any Jewish students for that matter. I would never be heard if I ­wasn’t first willing to learn, to listen, to humble myself, to think of others as better than myself, and to love as Jesus did. This quickly became the foundation on which I based my behavior, and the Spirit began moving in dramatic ways.

Christian and Jewish students (as well as passing faculty) noticed the odd picture of InterVarsity and Hillel next to each other in the breezeway right away. The students remained silent—and separate—for weeks. It was as if there was an imaginary wall between our tables. There were occasional glances, odd stares and mumbled greetings, but it was mostly discomfort and fear. I knew I had to lead by example. I continued to pray and had begun studying Jewish culture as well as reading literature on how to be a witness to the Jewish people.

In the meantime, Summer and I talked and laughed the days away. We even switched seats at our tables so that she was inviting people to InterVarsity and I was inviting people to Hillel. We made humorous comments about our being next to each other. And most significantly, we exchanged tons of questions including, but not limited to the following: “What most offends Jewish students on campus?” “Why exactly are there so many different Christian groups—you call them denominations, right?” “What’s the difference between orthodox and non-orthodox Judaism?” “Do Christians really believe that Jews are going to hell for not thinking Jesus is the Messiah?”

Our relationship had grown to a place where tough questions were no longer threatening. We were learning about one another in an atmosphere of friendship and respect. I prayed that God would bring our friendship to the next level. Soon thereafter, Summer invited me to come to a restaurant where Hillel was to host a social. It was on an evening that I had other plans, but I could stop by for just half an hour. It wasn’t much time, but I decided to show up anyway.

The night of the social, I walked into the restaurant with a friend and found the huge Hillel group gathered around outdoor tables. Summer was nowhere in sight. I recognized some of the students from the breezeway. Some stopped talking and stared at me. For a moment, I felt like I was an alien invader. Then, a group of them came up to me, smiling, and said, “Hi, what are you doing here? How cool.”

I said, “I’m just stopping to say ‘hi’ because I told Summer I would do my best to swing by, but I can only stay for a half hour.”

At that moment, Summer appeared suddenly, shouting, “I can’t believe you actually came,” as we hugged.

My friend and I were then introduced to every student there. Most of them knew who I was—”the Christian from the breezeway.” I was overwhelmingly welcomed, had one too many sodas, and although I only mingled for a few minutes, the impact from that mini-visit was powerful. For from that day on, the “wall” between our breezeway tables disappeared. Students who never acknowledged me before were going out of their way to say “hello” and ask how I was doing. InterVarsity and Hillel students began talking to one another and hanging out. An unspoken trust had been gained. The Lord was clearly moving.

As all this was happening, I realized how inadequate I felt. I was far from an expert on the history, let alone the current status, of Jewish/Christian relations. I did know that it wasn’t—and isn’t—for the most part, a positive one. I also knew that God loved each person and he was doing something extraordinary. As I studied and learned more each week, I also pleaded for the Lord to give InterVarsity favor, to help me and the Christian students be sensitive witnesses.

As I began sharing with pastors, church leaders, and other campus staff about what had been happening, it quickly became clear that the relationship developing between InterVarsity and Hillel was unusual. As a result, I decided to be proactive by searching for a local “expert” with experience in Jewish/Christian relations and witness. Through another staff, I found a man named Jeff who lived only 20 minutes from our campus, was married to a Messianic Jewish woman, had extensive and positive experience with Jewish people, had lived in Israel, knew Hebrew, and more. After several phone conversations, I invited him to come share with the leaders and the chapter about the relationship between Jews and Christians. I had no idea of the true significance of this until much later.

Soon after I had visited Hillel at the restaurant, Summer invited the entire InterVarsity leadership team and me to come and make hamantashen (a Jewish dessert) with them on an upcoming Tuesday night. For two weeks, I shared resources and training material with the students that I’d been studying regarding how to be a witness specifically to Jews. Jeff hadn’t come to campus yet, but he was going to come the night we would be with Hillel. My heart’s greatest desire and passion was for us to love, honor, and respect our Jewish friends. More than anything, I wanted our lives to “speak” before our mouths did about Jesus.

It may be difficult to envision, but try to picture a small kitchen in the lounge of a dorm stuffed with Jewish and Christian students making traditional Jewish cookies and laughing together. It left me awestruck at the hand of God. The relationships between the students were strengthened as was my relationship with Summer. In addition, Jeff was able to meet many of the Hillel students that night. You will soon see how important this would become.

Near the end of the fall semester, Summer asked me if InterVarsity would be interested in co-sponsoring an event together. I asked her what she had in mind, which brings us back to the start of this article—”The First Seder, The Last Supper.” After she asked if we were interested in sharing the Seder together, I said, “You realize we’d share that we view Jesus as the fulfillment of Passover prophesies; is that okay?”

She said, “Yes, that’s what we want to hear—the Christian perspective. Isn’t that the Lord’s Supper thing?”

The event wouldn’t happen until the following spring, but it would be one that had never happened before on our campus. In fact, it’s my belief that this event was, generally speaking, highly uncommon and highly divine. We used the months between fall and the spring event to learn, study, pray and read, as well as to train and prepare spiritually for what God was doing in our midst.

Jews celebrate Passover to recognize God’s delivering their ancestors from bondage to Pharaoh in Egypt; we as Christians can also celebrate it as part of our spiritual heritage, because it points to Y’shua (the Jewish way to say Jesus) and how he fulfills the message of the Passover—and ultimately delivers us from the bondage to sin. For instance, the shankbone of the lamb used during the meal not only represents the “Passover sacrifice” of Exodus 12:27, but also Jesus himself as “the Lamb who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29) and “Christ, our Passover lamb . . . sacrificed” (1 Corinthians 5:7). And this is but one of many examples. Truly, the spring Seder was going to be an opportunity not just for us to share with Hillel about Jesus, but also an opportunity for InterVarsity students to grow in the depth of their understanding of the “Lamb of God” who died on Calvary.

So again, I ask you to picture it! It is the night of the Seder. Behind a U-shaped assortment of tables which seat 100-plus people, the Hillel banner hangs on the wall next to the InterVarsity Christian Fellowship banner. The room is full of Christian and Jewish students and even some of their parents. Summer and I, along with some student leaders, have spent most of the day setting up the room and the tables.

I opened the evening by welcoming everyone, thanking them for coming, and introducing myself and each group’s leaders at the head of the table. We were then led through the Seder meal by Opher, an Israeli Hillel student. After the meal, Jeff stood to share the Christian perspective.

But before he began, he presented a special gift to the leaders of Hillel. It was an Israeli flag he’d cherished for 20 years from when he lived in Israel. It was a precious moment that deeply moved the Hillel leaders. Two were in tears as others were heard saying, “Awesome.” Our Jewish friends received him, and the message, extremely well as he gently and boldly shared the Truth about the parallels between Jesus and familiar Old Testament prophesies in the Seder. He even gave the Hillel members “ammunition” against anyone who would tell them it was the Jews who killed Christ by sharing multiple Scriptures revealing that Jesus chose to die—that he willingly gave his life “once for all when he offered himself” (Hebrews 7:27).

Jeff closed in prayer and the vast majority of students stayed. Conversations were very positive. One Hillel student named Debbie approached Jeff saying, “I’m so sorry, but can you tell me again about Jesus? . . . I was in the restroom and missed what you said. It’s the only reason I came. I left right after you said Jesus was the Lamb of God, that his blood redeems; can you start there?”

The word “amazing” doesn’t even cover it! Our friendship with Hillel was strengthened immensely. We’re all excited about doing this again in 2002.

Another semester has passed and the InterVarsity and Hillel breezeway tables remain side by side. We still get together to make desserts. Last semester, the current president of Hillel helped us plan a large-group skit about having a relationship with God. The relationships among us continue growing along with the opportunities to share the hope of Y’shua—the Christ.

It is not easy, but it’s worth it. Only God could have orchestrated all this for his glory. We simply recognized where he was working and joined him. We pray that the message of Jesus will resonate in the fertile hearts and minds of his chosen people. These are extraordinary times of opportunity to share the gospel on our campuses. We must be ready. We must be willing to take a risk. We must be willing to show up. We must be willing to learn—to read and study where others are coming from. We must be willing to mess up. We must be willing to laugh at ourselves. We must be simultaneously sensitive and bold. We must know who we are. We must know Whose we are. We must be willing to say “hello.”

—Joe Sowers is a staff worker in southeast Florida at Florida Atlantic University, the same campus where he received his B.A. and M.A. in communication. He enjoys taking students on short-term mission trips, being with family, doing manuscript studies with student leaders, thinking too much, and running every day.