I have had a unique life. I was born to and raised by Jewish parents. We had nice life. Our family (my parents, older sister and myself) went to the temple each week, on all holidays, and we kept all the Jewish traditions.

After years of Hebrew school and religious training, I was BarMitzvah'd at age thirteen. I knew all the stories about the Jewish people from the Bible, but I never even saw a New Testament. I saw the Tenach (Torah), the first five books of the Old Testament and the prayer books. Growing up, I had gentile friends, and I always enjoyed visiting their decorated homes at Christmas. But to me, their stories of "Jesus" were fables, like fairy tales. And I had some bad experiences with kids who had called me a "Jesus killer" because of my being a Jew.

In high school, I had a friend who witnessed to me about this man Jesus. He told me that the thousands of years of my Jewish heritage were wrong because the Messiah had come and died for his people, rose up from the dead and returned to Heaven. I told him that if we were wrong, we would be given a chance to make it right after life. After all, we were God's "chosen people". He wasn't going to leave us out.

The older I got, the more defensive I became over my ancient heritage. I studied the persecution of the Jews all throughout history. The holocaust became an obsession. By the time I reached college, the only time I heard the name of Jesus Christ was when it was used as a curse word.

I finished college, and then it was on to medical school, my internship, residency and my career as a hospital staff doctor. Along the way, I married a nice Jewish girl, and we settled into raising our two Jewish children (my daughter Sehlah is now fourteen and my son Aaron is eight). Somewhere in there, money and life's comforts had become my god. In an attempt to find what I saw as true happiness, I felt that if we maintained a certain social status, our lives would be meaningful and we could ensure a solid future for our children. Work, money and obtaining "things" because all that mattered to me, binding me into a form of slavery every bit as much as my ancestors had been in.

One day, a patient was brought into the hospital. A young twenty-two year old man who had suffered one of the worst strokes I had seen in my career. The prognosis was not good. Now I have seen hundreds of families in a time of crisis through my years as a doctor, and different people react in different ways. But this family had a peace that I had not seen before. They were upset, naturally. But they all seemed to follow the same general thought - "We are leaving him in the Lord's hands".

As the family was leaving to go home that night, a man who I believed at the time to be a relative (but later learned was a friend) asked permission to go in and pray with the young man. The nurse showed him back, and I was in the room with the patient at the time. He took out a small bottle of oil and put some on my patients' forehead and began to pray. Knowing the situation, having all the test results in my hand, I didn't see that this would do much good.

But the next morning, I was amazed beyond belief. My patient was awake, walking, wanting his wife, and asking if he could have breakfast and then go home! More tests were conducted. And when everything was in, the area of the stroke (which only hours before indicated that this young man was not going to function normally again, even if he survived) was now like scar tissue settled over everything.

I had to talk to the man who had said that prayer! When he arrived later that morning, I took him to my office and asked him about the oil, the prayer, this miracle healing. I had never met anybody so bold in life as Kevin Stewart turned out to be. The Lord gave him the wisdom to explain to me everything about the Lord Jesus Christ. It was amazing to me. Had I met this man on the street, I could have ignored him. I would have seen this truck driver as somehow "beneath" the high and mighty doctor. But here we were, sitting in my office, as I listened with the greatest interest while he told me about how Jesus Christ had changed his life and the lives of his family, forever. Never has anyone held my attention so strongly.

I told Kevin, "You know I'm Jewish", and he answered as innocently as I've ever heard anyone. He said, "I know. So was Jesus." He also told me that I was waiting for a Messiah that had already come, conquered and was returning again for His people. And then he asked me if I would like him to pray with me. I was ready for this commitment. I told him yes. And though he had never before met me in his life, he took my hand and prayed as I received Y'shua Ha Mashiach (Jesus, the Christ).

Am I still Jewish? You bet! That's not just a religion, that's my heritage. But now I am a Messianic Jew. A Jew that believes in Jesus as his Savior. He WAS and IS the Messiah. The One Israel was waiting for. The One that would set them free. The One we rejected.

And I believe this with all my heart. How? I'm reading the Bible! Not just "when I can". I read it every day. And I pray. The only way to know someone is to spend time with them. It's no different with the Lord. And I've aligned myself up with a church, and look forward to learning from other believers and the Pastor in the years to come.

My hope is that Christians will remember their Jewish roots. If you want to understand the Church, you need to understand Israel. If you want to understand the New Testament, you must understand the Old Testament. Remember, Jesus and His disciples were JEWISH! I will always keep some of my Jewish traditions and holidays, but intermixed with my new faith in Jesus.

I thank the Lord that I was on duty the night Jason was brought in with that stroke; that I was in the room when Kevin came in to pray and anoint him. If I hadn't met him, I don't know what would have happened to bring me and my family to the Lord. But He can use anyone, if they're willing. He used this kind man to speak to me, and I will be eternally grateful.

I am a fulfilled Jew now. I knew only part of the story before. But I accepted Jesus, and He completed the person He saw in me. I live for Jesus now. The rest, as they say, is history!

Baruch Ha Ba Bashem Adonai Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!

Abe Silverstein, M.D.

To read the testimonies of Dr. Silverstein's children, please click on the links below:

Sehlah (daughter)

Aaron (son)