For the week of June 14, 2025 / 18 Sivan 5785

Beha’alotcha
Torah: B’midbar/Numbers 8:1 – 12:16
Haftarah: Zechariah 2:14 – 4:7 (English 2:10 – 4:7)
Originally posted the week of June 10, 2017 / 16 Sivan 5777

I am not able to carry all this people alone; the burden is too heavy for me. If you will treat me like this, kill me at once, if I find favor in your sight, that I may not see my wretchedness. (B’midbar/Numbers 11:14-15)

I think Moses is amazing. I know he didn’t get off to the greatest start, murdering the Egyptian and running for his life as he feared the wrath of Pharaoh, king of Egypt. Note that he knew he was someone special, having miraculously survived the murder-all-the-baby-boys decree, rescued by Pharaoh’s own daughter no less. Killing the Egyptian was wrong, but it was the result of a good motive, as he reacted to his people’s ongoing oppression. The Torah doesn’t tell us how he learned he was a Hebrew or knew that he had a key role to fulfill, but like many people of destiny, he walked a twisted road to get there.

I don’t blame him for his resistance to God, when at age eighty he finally received his commission. Even though he was still afraid for his life, and in spite of his attempt to skirt his call, he went back to Egypt anyway. From that point on, with the exception of a couple of misguided actions due to frustration with the people (again no criticism from me about that), he performed magnificently in the face of Pharaoh’s stubborn short-sightedness and a fairly uncooperative, critical people to lead.

What made Moses such an effective leader was how he dealt with the problems he faced. Every time another issue arose, he would go to God for what he should do. Perhaps this is where Paul in the New Covenant Writings derives his encouragement to “Pray without ceasing” (1 Thessalonians 5:17). While some may think Paul intended the believers in Thessalonica to utter barely audible prayers under their breath every waking second – nothing wrong with that if you can sustain such a thing – but more likely he was calling them (and by extension us), to regularly defer to God just as Moses did.

But there is more for us to learn from Moses’s prayers than the frequency thereof. He also “told it like it is,” so to speak. Moses’s prayer I quoted at the start was in response to one of the many occasions of the people’s complaining. This time a bunch of discontents got everyone riled up about the boring nature of their menu. The supernatural provision of the bread-like substance called manna wasn’t good enough for them. They demanded that Moses produce meat. This pushed him to the limit and he told God so, and that he couldn’t take it anymore, saying: “If you will treat me like this, kill me at once” (B’midbar/Numbers 11:15).

That’s not one of the nicest prayers I’ve ever read. It’s pretty confrontational and demanding, don’t you think? Note how he puts the blame squarely on God even though it was the people who were making life so difficult for him. Moses prayed that way because he knew something that we often fail to grasp: while people are responsible for their actions, our lives are ultimately in God’s hands.

His prayer is also pretty drastic: “resolve the problem or kill me!” If God is so in control, why not leave the resolution of the situation with him. But this is how Moses was feeling at the time. So that’s what he prayed. How did God respond? Did Moses get a lecture about appropriate piety and respectability? No; God heeded Moses’s desperate plea.

Why would God do that? Why didn’t he instead put Moses in his place for addressing him that way? Or at least ignore him (which, if we are honest, is probably the way we think God deals with us a good deal of the time)? God answered Moses because this is the kind of prayer God answers: direct and honest. Moses prayed a prayer of desperation because he was desperate. God knew that. Why pretend otherwise? Anything else would have been fake. God sees through fake. He isn’t offended by honesty. Unlike the complainers who put the onus on Moses, who had no ability to grant their request, Moses went to the only one who could do something about his difficult situation. And by baring his heart, he not only got an audience with the Sovereign of the Universe, he got the help he (and the whole community) needed.

The Messiah addresses this in his introduction to his model prayer:

And when you pray, do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do, for they think that they will be heard for their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him (Matthew 6:7-8).

He is not only addressing meaningless repetition here, but the emptiness of fake prayers as well. We need to tell it like it is when we pray. Anything else is just a show. That doesn’t mean there is no room for formal prayer, especially in public. But it better be sincere or else you’ll find yourself filling up space with “empty phrases” than truly conversing with your Heavenly Father. Perhaps it’s time to tell God how you really feel.

Scriptures taken from English Standard Version (ESV)

For the week of June 7, 2025 / 11 Sivan 5785

Naso
Torah:  B’midbar/Numbers 4:21 – 7:89
Haftarah: Shoftim/Judges 13:2-25

And when Moses went into the tent of meeting to speak with the LORD, he heard the voice speaking to him from above the mercy seat that was on the ark of the testimony, from between the two cherubim; and it spoke to him. (B’midbar/Numbers 7:89)

I was really touched by something I read in my Scripture reading the other day. I am currently working through the Book of Acts. Chapter nine includes the Lord’s confronting Saul on his way to Damascus as he seeks to quash the fledgling messianic movement. Even though this is a very familiar passage to me, there was something I had never noticed before. It took my reading Richard Longenecker’s commentary (The Expositor’s Bible Commentary Revised Edition, 2007) to see it. When the Lord speaks to Saul, we read in the great majority of English translations, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” (Acts 9:4). That this happened at all is extraordinary, especially as the story unfolds. The Messiah not only confronts this zealous persecutor, but he does so by name, while revealing the true implications of his misguided actions, and commissions him to be his key spokesperson to the nations.

However, there is a subtle yet powerful element here that these English translations fail to convey. Acts, like the rest of the New Testament, is written in Greek. Rarely are there any indications that a speech or dialogue originated in a different language. For example, most, if not all, of the speeches and conversations by Jewish people, Yeshua included, would have been in Jewish Aramaic or Hebrew. Yet, there are very few instances where that fact is noted in the Greek. The way it’s done here is most fascinating, partly because most English translations ignore it.¹

First, as you are likely aware, personal names in a foreign context are often pronounced very differently from their original. Sometimes the differences can be drastic. For example, the French name Pierre is Peter in English. John in English is Jean in French, derived from the Hebrew Yochanan. We don’t have time to get into all the whys and wherefores of this phenomenon. A couple of factors are that languages don’t always include the sounds of other languages, and rules for word forms differ from one language to another. The Greek name for Saul is “Saulos” (pronounced sow’-los), representing the Hebrew “Shaul” (pronounced sha-ool’). The reason why we say “Saul” in English, even though we have a “sh” sound, is that the biblical names come down to us via Greek, which does not.

That said, there’s an interesting clue embedded in the Greek text of Acts 9:4. The four times prior when Saul is mentioned in Acts, its author, Luke, uses “Saulos,” the expected Greek derivation of his name. But when the Lord addresses him directly, Luke uses a different spelling, “Saoul” (pronounced sah-ool’). Despite the Greek language’s inability to fully represent Hebrew sounds, this is Luke’s way of telling the reader that God said, “Shaul, Shaul.” Thus, speaking to him in his mother tongue.

This form of his name is also used when he is addressed directly by Ananias, when he healed him of his blindness (Acts 9:17; see also 22:13); the one occurance of his namesake, King Saul (Acts 13:21); and the two times he recounts his encounter from chapter nine (Acts 22:7; 26:14). In the second of these retellings, he makes special mention of the language issue I am referring to, indicating that I am not making a big deal out of nothing (and that this language issue should have been more obvious to me)! Luke wanted people to know this. But why?

I imagine it could have been for accuracy’s sake. That’s what happened. So, tell it like it is. I think there’s more to it. I am writing this on the eve of Shavuot, the Festival of Weeks, one of the three major festivals on the biblical calendar. It was on this particular festival that God took his messianic restoration plan to the next stage, for it was on this holy day that he poured out his Ruach HaKodesh (Holy Spirit) on the believers in Jerusalem in fulfillment of Joel’s prophecy. God’s plans and purposes, so long incubated within a Jewish context, was going global. This was marked by the miraculous praising of God in a multiplicity of languages. The God of Israel was going to speak to the nations in their own languages.

No one knew, however, that God’s multilingual policy would backfire in that the Jewish Messiah’s Good News to the nations would become incomprehensible to those to whom it originally came. Why bother accurately demonstrating that Luke purposely wrote “Saul” in such a way as to indicate “Shaul,” when the Gospel has been severed from its Jewish roots? I guess few realize that a Gospel that is incomprehensible to the Jewish people is no Gospel at all.

Scriptures from English Standard Version

1. An exception being The Complete Jewish Bible, but wait until the end before checking it out!

For the week of May 31, 2025 / 4 Sivan 5785

B’midbar
Torah: B’midbar/Numbers 1:1 – 4:20
Haftarah: Hoshea/Hosea 2:1-22 (English: 1:10 – 2:20)

Therefore, behold, I will allure her, and bring her into the wilderness, and speak tenderly to her. And there I will give her her vineyards and make the Valley of Achor a door of hope. And there she shall answer as in the days of her youth, as at the time when she came out of the land of Egypt. (Hoshea/Hosea 2:16-17; English 2:14-15)

This week’s Haftarah (selected reading from the Hebrew Prophets) is from Hoshea, Hosea in English. It is a message of extremes, which is not unusual for God’s ancient spokespeople. The extremes are those of Israel’s great unfaithfulness and their eventual restoration to God. I think it is accurate to say that this is a core biblical theme, both in the Hebrew Scriptures and the New Covenant Writings. From a New Covenant perspective, its reasonable to regard God’s restoration of the unfaithful as the theme of all Scripture. Despite the Hebrew Scriptures’ focus on a single nation, the people of Israel, New Covenant adherents tend to universalize God’s workings with Israel to the extent that the depictions of wayward Israel become a prototype of the general waywardness of the human race. For many Christians, the promised Jewish Messiah, the vehicle of Israel’s restoration, becomes the Savior of the whole world.

This connection is not only valid, it’s intentional. It fulfills God’s promise to Abraham, “In you all the families of the earth shall be blessed” (Bereshit/Genesis 12:3). However, the fact of fulfillment has been leveraged in misguided ways. Many have concluded that this outworking of God’s covenantal commitment to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob nullifies its implications for its original recipients.

The universalization of God’s restorative work, as vividly depicted in Hoshea’s relationship with his wayward wife, if anything, should emphasize, not detract from, God’s faithfulness to the people Hoshea’s wife symbolized. In fact, denying God’s ongoing faithfulness to Israel undermines the basis of his restoration work among the nations. To deduce that the broader scope of restoring wayward Gentiles in some way makes God’s message through Hoshea to Israel obsolete is to not only deny Scripture but also misrepresents God.

Few seem to be aware of how destructive it is to deny God’s ongoing faithfulness to Israel. It wouldn’t be so bad if people would simply treat the Hebrew Scriptures as obsolete. It’s still wrong, just not as bad. This way of thinking sees God as working among Israel for a time, but whose purpose is complete once the Messiah comes. This approach might continue to use the Hebrew Scriptures for background information and to foreshadow New Covenant fulfillment, but that’s all. Come to think of it, that’s a very common approach. And even though it’s scripturally unsound, I wish it would end there. Yet, tragically, something very insidious usually happens instead, with passages such as our Haftarah being used against the Jewish people. In the name of obsolescence, God’s faithfulness to Israel is denied, while Israel’s waywardness remains.

In our Haftarah, the people of Israel are described in fairly negative terms. That’s pretty much par for the course throughout Hebrew Scripture. But that’s because they are normal people, just like everyone else. God didn’t choose Israel for Israel’s sake alone. He did so as part of his great worldwide restoration plan. A main feature of Israel’s function in the grand scheme of things was to demonstrate everyone’s need for the one true God. We (my being Jewish myself) do that by being both the historical vehicles of God’s Word and by being examples of human beings’ need for God. That’s why the Bible doesn’t only have teaching about God, but includes our stories of failure (and some successes).

But God didn’t broadcast our failures via the world’s all-time best-selling book in order to shame us. Instead, he wanted to vividly display his extraordinary graciousness for all to see. God’s faithfulness to wayward Israel is designed to demonstrate his faithfulness to wayward you! And yet, through the centuries, despite passages like this week’s Haftarah, the Church has denied the enormity of God’s faithful love. You can’t have it both ways. Either his covenantal commitment to Israel is secure or it’s not. And if not, what hope do any of us have?

For the week of May 24, 2025 / 26 Iyar 5785

Behar & Bechukotai
Torah: Vayikra/Leviticus 25:1 – 27:34
Haftarah: Jeremiah 16:19 – 17:14

O LORD, my strength and my stronghold, my refuge in the day of trouble, to you shall the nations come from the ends of the earth and say: “Our fathers have inherited nothing but lies, worthless things in which there is no profit. Can man make for himself gods? Such are not gods!” (Jeremiah 16:19-20)

These words from God, spoken through the prophet Jeremiah, look forward to the day when the nations will acknowledge the uselessness of their ancestral traditions, including idol worship, and turn to him, the one true God, the God of Israel. This certainly foreshadows the Jewish messianic mission to the nations. From our vantage point, two thousand years after the coming of Yeshua, it’s challenging to comprehend the phenomenal revolutionary effect the early Messianic Jews had on their pagan neighbors. Led by God’s Spirit, they confronted one of the most powerful empires in history at its very foundation.

Take the great port city of Ephesus, in modern-day Turkey, for example. It was home to the so-called “great mother goddess” Artemis. It was here that a riot began because a messianic Pharisee named Paul was proclaiming that “gods made with hands are not gods” (see Acts 19:26). This is not a case of competing religions, but a cosmic clash between light and darkness. This clash has continued to the present day, to the extent that there are few places on earth where people have not turned from their empty traditions to the truth of the one and only God in the Messiah.

Perhaps you grew up in an environment that was friendly to biblical truth. It might be difficult to imagine the level of personal and societal upheaval associated with accepting the emptiness of one’s false gods. This is not so much due to the entities themselvesbut the structures of thought and social norms associated with them. It’s no wonder that even today, people lose jobs, friends, and family over accepting God’s truth.

But don’t be fooled. This dramatic, all-encompassing transformation isn’t just for those from cultures vastly different from a biblical view of the world. Not to take anything away from Jeremiah’s extraordinary prediction of Gentile nations turning from their false gods, notice that immediately preceding the beginning of this week’s Haftarah (weekly reading portion from the Hebrew prophets), we read of God’s punishing Israel for the very sin of idolatry. I like to say the Bible is always talking, not to someone else, but to the reader. No one is let off the hook. Our reading of Scripture should always result in an examination of self, not the other guy. I am pretty sure that Jeremiah’s prophecy about Gentiles turning from idols was designed to prompt Jewish repentance.

The Jewish expectation of pagans turning to the God of Israel was not to be a source of pride, but instead an opportunity to examine oneself and respond accordingly. All of us need to take a serious look at our own lives from a biblical frame of reference. Just because we claim to adhere to the truth doesn’t mean we do. We might try to assure ourselves we are okay just because we think we have the right words, attend the right congregation, have the right creed, or have the right associates. And perhaps they are the right words, and so on. Remember, even good things can become idols when we rely on them instead of God.

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version

For the week of May 17, 2025 / 19 Iyar 5785

Emor
Torah: Vayikra/Leviticus 21:1 – 24:23
Hafatarah: Ezekiel 44:15-31
Originally posted the week of May 5, 2018 / 20 Iyar 5778 (updated)

Thus Moses declared to the people of Israel the appointed feasts of the LORD. (Vayikra/Leviticus 23:44)

According to Wikipedia, “Cultural appropriation is the inappropriate or unacknowledged adoption of an element or elements of one culture or identity by members of another culture or identity.” When cultural appropriation first came to my attention some time ago, I thought the strong objection to it was a bit strange, not because I don’t understand the concern, but because I am so used to it – sort of!

As a Jewish believer in the Messiah, whose spiritual relationships are mainly among non-Jews, I encounter cultural appropriation constantly. In fact, Christianity is and has always been an exercise in cultural appropriation. Generally, Jews and Christians are not aware of this, however, since most Christian cultural expression wouldn’t be recognized as Jewish. The fact is there is almost nothing within Christianity’s core beliefs that isn’t derived from the Jewish world. Some are more obvious than others. The primary document for Christians is the Bible, both Old and New Testaments written almost exclusively by Jews and focused on activities happening to or done by Jewish people. Even as global outreach developed, its development and implementation was in Jewish hands. The God of the Christians is the God of Israel. The religious and theological concepts adhered to by Christians are all Jewish in origin, such as sin, righteousness, sacrifice, and holiness. Then there’s the very center of all core concepts, the Messiah. While the Jewish and Christian worlds have traditionally been divided over the Messiah’s identity, Christianity is founded on the conviction that Yeshua (Jesus) is the Jewish Messiah. Using Greek-oriented instead of Hebrew-oriented terminology obscures the cultural connection. That many Jews and Christians aren’t conscious that Christ and Messiah, for example, are synonyms doesn’t negate the Jewish nature of the messianic concept.

Other key Jewish components of Christianity are not as obvious. Most people don’t realize that baptism was originally a Jewish custom that was done as part of the conversion process as well as when an estranged Jewish person wanted to return to God. The development of the church as the place of community teaching and prayer was based on the synagogue. Communion, also called the Eucharist or the Lord’s Supper, is taken from Passover. The hope of the resurrection of the body was an exclusively Jewish concept. We could go on.

The early Jewish believers went out of their way to allow the Good News about the Messiah to function freely and fully in a non-Jewish context. Through God-given wisdom they freed the core of biblical faith from Jewish cultural control, allowing the nations to work out the essentials of biblical spirituality within their own contexts. What I don’t think the early believers envisioned is how far from a Jewish frame of reference the Church would go.

Many non-Jewish believers over the past hundred years or so have sought to re-contextualize Christianity within a Jewish frame of reference. Some correctly understand that the freedom to adapt biblical teaching within foreign cultures, while helpful in many ways, can tend to skew biblical truth, especially when cut off from its Jewish roots. At the same time, however, the passion to restore biblical faith to its ancient roots can go overboard. This is where appropriate cultural adaptation can become misappropriation. This happens in two ways: first, by confusing Jewish culture with biblical truth. Not everything that is Jewish is necessarily biblical. Much of Jewish culture found in the world today is recent in origin. While we don’t know the tunes of King David’s psalms, we are fairly certain that they were not anything close to what is thought of as Jewish music today. Similarly, Jewish foods are normally adaptations of local fare throughout the world where Jewish people have lived. Apart from the limits of kosher laws, there is nothing intrinsically biblical about the vast majority of Jewish cuisine.

The second type of misappropriation is in regard to actual biblical material. For example, take the feasts as listed in this week’s parsha (weekly Torah portion). It is tragic that this key component of the Books of Moses, like most of the Hebrew Scriptures, has been virtually ignored by Christians. There is so much to learn from the feasts as they teach us about God’s character and activities. Yet it is easy to go from a healthy renewed focus on Scripture to a misguided emphasis on cultural expression. Much of Jewish festival observance today is based on tradition, not Bible. Tradition isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it is culturally bound to the people who developed it. People don’t often possess the level of sensitivity necessary to adapt cultural forms. That doesn’t mean it should never be done. Perhaps what needs to be done, be it non-Jewish Christians in relation to Jewish people or between other cultural groups is to truly get to know the people whose culture it is before we treat it as our own.

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version

For the week of May 10, 2025 / 12 Iyar 5785

Aharei Mot & Kedoshim
Torah: Vayikra/Leviticus 16:1 – 20:27
Haftarah: Amos 9:7-15
Originally posted the week of April 24, 2010 / 10 Iyar 5770

You shall not hate your brother in your heart, but you shall reason frankly with your neighbor, lest you incur sin because of him. You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against the sons of your own people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the LORD. (Vayikra / Leviticus 19:17-18)

The Messiah was asked the question, “What is the greatest commandment?” (See Matthew 22:35-40; Mark 12:28-34; Luke 10:25-37). It was popular among Jewish religious leaders to attempt to summarize the Torah. Here is Yeshua’s answer:

The most important is, “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.” The second is this: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” There is no other commandment greater than these. (Mark 12:29-31)

Some people take this to mean that unlike the people living under the Old Covenant, followers of Yeshua have only these minimal requirements to follow. But that completely misses the point. Yeshua’s summary statement is intended as a perspective by which to view God’s requirements, not a recipe by which to ignore them. Yeshua was reminding a people who had become obsessed with the Torah as an end in itself that its directives were intended as the means of loving God and other people. Losing sight of these primary commands results in the failure to properly keep the others. Loving God and loving people is what God’s commands are all about.

Hearing Yeshua highlight “You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” should draw us to the context of what he was quoting, some of which we read at the beginning. Loving our neighbor is not a vague sentimental concept based on emotion. It has very practical and far reaching implications. For example we read, “You shall not hate your brother in your heart, but you shall reason frankly with your neighbor, lest you incur sin because of him.” This tells us first that when difficulties arise with someone with whom we have relationship, we are not to hate them. Hate is not simply negative and angry thoughts toward another person. It is the tendency to disregard them or not care about them. This may occur with very little emotion. God instructs us that instead of ignoring issues we have with others, we need to deal with them through open and honest discussion and thereby avoid even greater issues arising between one another. This is what “love your neighbor” is all about or it is at least one example.

It could be that “but you shall love your neighbor as yourself” sums up a larger Torah section (see Vayikra / Leviticus 19:9-18) that includes being mindful of the poor among us, not stealing, having fair business dealings, not lying to others, not using God’s name to justify wrong, not oppressing others or robbing them, paying wages on time, showing respect toward the physically handicapped, demonstrating justice in court without partiality, not slandering, and not taking vengeance or bearing grudges against others. This is not a complete list, though it makes it clear that loving our neighbor is far more and much deeper than what we may normally think it is.

Loving our neighbor is not just having warm affection toward others or showing kindness to them, though it may include those things. God’s version of loving others involves a deep understanding of his ways and how they relate to how we are to treat others. To love is to be true to our God-given responsibilities towards those with whom we have personal and work relationships, business and legal dealings, as well as the needy and vulnerable around us. Let’s not cheapen God’s Word by reducing it to anything less.

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version

For the week of May 3, 2025 / 5 Iyar 5785

Tazria & Metzora
Torah: Vayikra/Leviticus 12:1-15:33
Haftarah: 2 M’lachim/2 Kings 7:3-20

This day is a day of good news (2 M’lachim/2 Kings 7:9)

This week’s Haftarah (selected reading from the Hebrew Prophets) includes one of the Scriptures’ most surprising turnarounds. The northern kingdom of Israel’s capital city, Shomron (English: Samaria), was under siege by the Arameans (ESV: Syrians). The famine was so severe that the people were eating their own children! Eventually, the prophet Elisha prophesied a sudden end to the siege and a complete economic upturn. In the natural, this was impossible.

In the meantime, four men afflicted with leprosy decided to surrender to the Arameans, thinking they had nothing to lose given their desperate situation in the city. The mention of these men is likely why this story was chosen for the Haftarah, since the parsha (Torah reading portion) refers to leprosy. To their surprise, when they arrived at the enemy’s camp, it was deserted. We read:

For the Lord had made the army of the Arameans (ESV: Syrians) hear the sound of chariots and of horses, the sound of a great army, so that they said to one another, “Behold, the king of Israel has hired against us the kings of the Hittites and the kings of Egypt to come against us.” So they fled away in the twilight and abandoned their tents, their horses, and their donkeys, leaving the camp as it was, and fled for their lives” (2 M’lachim/2 Kings 7:6–7).

As the men helped themselves to the goods left behind, they realized they shouldn’t keep this turn of events to themselves. They said to each other, “We are not doing right. This day is a day of good news. If we are silent and wait until the morning light, punishment will overtake us. Now therefore come; let us go and tell the king’s household” (2 M’lachim/2 Kings 7:9). The Hebrew word, translated as “good news” in the English Standard Version and others, is b’sorah.

Interestingly, the Septuagint (LXX), the ancient, standard Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures, translates b’sorah here as euangelion. This is the word used in the New Covenant Writings (the New Testament), which in English became “gospel” or “good news.” Surveying b’sorah in the Hebrew Scriptures demonstrates that the news so proclaimed wasn’t necessarily always “good” for everyone. It depended on how you related to the particular news being announced.

That’s certainly true for Israel’s turn of events in this story. What was good news for Israel was bad news for the Arameans. Messiah’s b’sorah is different as its universal goodness is based on how we relate to it. If we receive Yeshua on his terms, then it’s good beyond comprehension. However, not only will it not go well for those who reject him, but also how such people regard this otherwise good news becomes warped and severely misconstrued.

There’s other news this week that functions similarly to Messiah’s b’sorah. Like the story in the Haftarah, it has to do with a remarkable turnaround in the history of Israel. But like Messiah’s b’sorah, its goodness depends on how we relate to it. Tragically, many people’s view of this, like the Gospel, is entirely obscured by all sorts of misunderstandings and conflicting values. I am referring to Yom Ha’atzmaut, Israel Independence Day. This Thursday marks seventy-seven years since the birth of the modern State of Israel. The return of the Jewish people to our ancient homeland is b’sorah, which should be proclaimed and celebrated worldwide if only people understood it correctly.

Some of the remarkable aspects of this include: the modern state of Israel was established after 2000 years of exile from our ancient homeland in the wake of attempted genocide (two-thirds of the European Jewish community, half of the worldwide Jewish community, died in the Holocaust). After Israel declared independence, Israel survived the united onslaught of five Arab nations and, within the next three years, absorbed 700,000 Jewish refugees and immigrants, doubling its population. Through it all, it integrated a vast array of languages and cultures and revived Hebrew as a living everyday language after more than two thousand years. Despite ongoing existential challenges, Israel has thrived in so many ways, including being an extraordinarily pluralistic and democratic society and a world leader in agricultural, medical, and computer technology.

I could go on, but that won’t change the fact that a great many people don’t regard Israel’s miraculous rebirth as good news—anything but. This tragic misunderstanding reflects a view of the world contrary to God’s plan and purposes. To navigate the world effectively and be the people God desires requires a biblical view of Israel, one that can celebrate the good news of another anniversary.

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version

For the week of April 26, 2025 / 28 Nisan 5785

Sh’mini
Torah: Vayikra/Leviticus 9:1 – 11:47
Haftarah: 2 Shmuel/2 Samuel 6:1 – 7:17

As the ark of the LORD came into the city of David, Michal the daughter of Saul looked out of the window and saw King David leaping and dancing before the LORD, and she despised him in her heart. (2 Shmuel/2 Samuel 6:16)

Many years ago, a good friend mentioned that when contempt invades a marriage, the marriage is doomed (for a brief, professional take on the matter, see The Gottman Institute’s article on this subject). It is a frightening thought that such an invasion is possible. I don’t know why my friend brought it up that day. I don’t think we were discussing our marriages at the time, and, for the record, we are both still married. In fact, my wife and I will be celebrating forty-five years in a few weeks!

Modern psychologists are not the first to notice the devastating effects of contempt on relationships. This week’s Haftarah (special reading from the Hebrew Prophets) vividly illustrates the point. The version I read says that David’s wife Michal “despised” him in her heart. The Hebrew word for despised here is bazah. Other translations use contempt, disgust, and hatred. It was how Esau considered his birthright in Bereshit/Genesis chapter twenty-five, when he came home exhausted and traded his birthright to his younger twin brother, Jacob, for a single bowl of stew. In other words, he couldn’t care less about his birthright. This is the kind of disdain that Michal felt towards David, having seen him unabashedly celebrate  along with the servant girls as he brought the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem. For the record, there is no indication that David was dancing naked, as some believe. Instead, it appears that he was dressed in a most simple manner, like a commoner, not in royal garb. This seriously irked his wife. His childlike exuberance, his mixing with the common people, and his simple appearance diminished him in her eyes. She may have been embarrassed as she herself felt diminished by his child-like humility.

Whatever the reason, her husband became very small in her eyes. She no longer saw him for the man he was. Not only did she disregard his God-given position as King of Israel and a man after God’s own heart, but she could no longer grasp his innate value as a fellow human being equally made in God’s image. Instead, she looked down on him and greeted him with insults.

The result, according to the passage, was that she never bore children. Note that while it doesn’t say that God punished her for her attitude, this may be implied. Don’t get me wrong. Infertility isn’t necessarily a punishment from God. But in this case, Michal’s disdain for her husband damaged their relationship. Her not having children may not have been due to divine intervention, but perhaps due to their not having sexual relations again.

Obviously, there are details about David and Michal’s relationship that we don’t know. And that’s part of the brilliance of biblical storytelling. The lack of detail allows their story to resonate with our own. It should be clear that contempt is a relationship killer, be it contempt for a spouse, a parent, a child, an employer or employee, a customer, or a political or religious leader, and so on. This is in no way to say we should ignore differences and problems. Far from it! Contempt signifies an unwillingness to address them. We might be afraid to call others to account. Or we don’t want to acknowledge that there might be aspects of our own lives that need attention. Whatever it is, it’s much easier to look down on others and criticize than to work through our issues. Is that really what we want?

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version

For the week of April 19, 2025 / 21 Nisan 5785

Pesach
Torah: Shemot/Exodus 13:17 – 15:26 & B’midbar/Numbers 28:19-25
Haftarah: 2 Shmuel/2 Samuel 22:1-51
Originally posted the week of April 11, 2015 / 22 Nisan 5775

You shall eat no leavened bread with it. Seven days you shall eat it with unleavened bread (matza), the bread of affliction – for you came out of the land of Egypt in haste – that all the days of your life you may remember the day when you came out of the land of Egypt. (Devarim / Deuteronomy 16:3)

If you attended a Pesach (English: Passover) Seder the other day, or any other time for that matter, you most likely heard the following words when the matza (English: unleavened bread) was uncovered near the beginning of the evening: “This is the bread of affliction that our forefathers ate in the land of Egypt.” But perhaps you didn’t know that calling the matza “the bread of affliction” is taken directly from the Torah.

The word for “affliction” in Hebrew is “a’-nee,” and refers to being in an oppressive state, such as hardship or poverty. Matza as a key symbol of Pesach would always serve as a reminder of the great suffering in Egypt with or without referring to it as the bread of affliction. But the verse I quoted at the beginning makes it sound as if the matza is not a reminder of the slavery experience but of freedom: “eat it with matza, the bread of affliction – for you came out of the land of Egypt in haste – that all the days of your life you may remember the day when you came out of the land of Egypt.”

Indeed it was the rush to leave Egypt following the tenth and final plague that is the reason for the eating of matzah. We read:

The Egyptians were urgent with the people to send them out of the land in haste. For they said, “We shall all be dead.” So the people took their dough before it was leavened, their kneading bowls being bound up in their cloaks on their shoulders (Shemot/Exodus 12:33-34).

So if the matza is connected with leaving Egypt, why is it not called “the bread of deliverance?” The answer is found a few verses later. Regarding the preparation of the unleavened dough they took with them,

And they baked unleavened cakes of the dough that they had brought out of Egypt, for it was not leavened, because they were thrust out of Egypt and could not wait, nor had they prepared any provisions for themselves (Shemot/Exodus 12:39).

Even though the exodus from Egypt was a momentous liberating event, in its own way it too was a hardship. Anyone who has been released from long-term personal or corporate abuse knows how difficult such transitions can be. Free from slavery, yes, but Israel had to endure a harsh, unknown wilderness with little to no prepared provision. This resulted in all sorts of next-to-impossible challenges to the point that some would eventually pine after their former slavery. Unless they learned to depend on God, they wouldn’t make it. And many didn’t. Almost the entire adult generation that left Egypt were kept from entering the Promised Land due to their unfaithfulness to God (see Bemidbar/Numbers 13 – 14).

After the initial euphoria of newfound freedom subsides, the harsh realities of strange and perhaps hostile environments, a lack of familiar social structures and personal and communal resources must be faced with tenacity and hope for a better future. Whether it be an immigrant from a worn-torn land or someone newly distanced from an abusive situation, denying the reality of the new challenges faced by freedom can create unnecessary obstacles to the benefits of freedom.

The matza does more than simply remind us of the hardship of liberation, however. It assures us that the God who frees us will give us all we need to face the challenges of newfound freedom. It’s not always easy to walk in freedom, but he who rescues us from bondage, will also equip us to live free.

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version

For the week of April 12, 2025 / 14 Nisan 5785

Zav
Torah: Vayikra/Leviticus 6:1 – 8:36 (English: 6:8 – 8:36)
Haftarah: Malachi 3:4-24 (English 3:4 – 4:6)
Originally posted the week of March 28, 2015 / 8 Nisan 5775 (updated)

The LORD spoke to Moses, saying “Give Aaron and his sons this command: ‘These are the regulations for the burnt offering: The burnt offering is to remain on the altar hearth throughout the night, till morning, and the fire must be kept burning on the altar.'” (Vayikra/Leviticus 6:1-2 [English: 6:8-9])

For most of us, the concept of sacrifice is foreign. We don’t offer God animals, grain, and so on. Yet, sacrifice is a central element of the Torah and one that has ongoing relevance to us.

While sacrifices of this nature have become redundant under the New Covenant, there is much to be learned by studying them. Let’s look at one basic concept that will help us better relate to God and life.

The sacrifices prescribed by the Torah for individuals were to be taken from things the people themselves already owned. When you sacrificed something, you gave of what you yourself had. In fact, provisions were made for the poor so that they, too, could give of what they had. You could not borrow something to sacrifice or offer something on behalf of someone else.

And so, when an offering was made, you were giving back to God that which God had first given to you. Whatever benefits were derived or obligations were met due to a particular offering, you were always acknowledging, consciously or unconsciously, that God had a right to what you possessed.

Grasping this concept enables us to relate to our possessions as God intends. We often define ourselves by what we have. While the rich may be the objects of resentment, we tend to have the highest regard for those with the most material goods. Don’t we refer to these people as “well off,” even though they might be miserable? Parting with our stuff forces us to find our identity and well-being elsewhere.

We also believe that our possessions are for us to do with as we please. Children learn the meaning of “mine” from a very early age. Yet the very first chapter of the Torah establishes our role as stewards of the planet. God is the possessor of everything. We are called to care for, not own, things. How easily we fool ourselves! Unless we learn this lesson, the more stuff we have, the more they will possess us. The sacrifices of the Torah release our grip on what we have. Giving back to God helps us realize that we do not depend on what we own as we thought.

By calling for sacrifice, God exercises his claim upon more than just our possessions—he is claiming us. The whole purpose of the Torah was to restore people to a right relationship with him. What happened in the Garden of Eden was a misuse of God’s provision. Our first parents failed to accept that we have no right to do with the creation however we please—a lesson we still have trouble learning.

God wants us to give ourselves to him in every way. He is not really interested in our stuff. He wants us.

God knew sacrifice was the only way to bring us back to himself. The ancient offerings never made much of a difference, so God himself offered his own sacrifice: his Son, Yeshua the Messiah. God gave us what he had so we could fully give ourselves to him.

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version