A Journey from Barley to Wheat

During work this past week, I overheard a couple of Jewish doctors talking about their dinner plans for the evening after Pesach had ended.  One said that on his way home he planned to stop at the bakery and purchase “the biggest loaf of bread in the place”.  The other couldn’t wait to eat a thick crust pizza loaded with mushrooms and cheese.  This conversation brought a smile to my face but also caused me to contemplate.  Why is it that the desire for chametz is so strong?  During the seven days of the festival I ate very well, with a nice leaven free dinner each evening and an assortment of delicious desserts and snacks that were kosher for Pesach readily available.  Yet, just like the doctors, I also had cravings for chametz and somehow felt deprived without it although my palate and stomach were always satisfied.

In Berachot 17a, Rabbi Alexandri likens the evil inclination to “the yeast in the dough”.  With this comparison the Shem MiShmuel teaches that three forms of chametz related in the Talmud correspond to three forms or expressions of the yetzer hara, the evil inclination.  

The most familiar form of chametz is that which is “total” or “complete”.  This is a food item that is predominantly made of or permeated with leaven, such as yeast bread or yeast donuts. This type of chametz corresponds to the evil inclination expressed through unrestrained sinning.  When someone knows that something is sinful but decides to do it anyway, he is overtaken by his evil inclination which has thoroughly permeated his thoughts and actions.

 A second form of chametz is what might be called “partial” or “ingredient” chametz.  This describes a food item that is predominantly kosher for Passover but yet contains a very slight or minor ingredient that is considered chametz.  A small amount of leaven is found within the greater mixture.  Ingredient chametz corresponds to the evil inclination expressed through rationalized sinning.  In this case the person is involved in something that is overwhelmingly very good and right, yet there is a detail of evil or sin still present in thought or action.  Although the person is aware of his sin he rationalizes it as permissible for the “greater good”.  

 A third form of chametz is that which is not considered fit for human consumption.  This includes items which contain chametz and must be removed from the home for Pesach, although a person would not eat them, such as dog food for example.  Chametz unfit for human consumption corresponds to the most despicable expression of the evil inclination, habitual sin.  Unlike unrestrained sinning or rationalized sinning, habitual sin is not concerned with gaining benefit or good from sin.  In unrestrained or rationalized sin there is the temptation for something that will benefit the person or others in some way. Habitual sin is different in that it is completely motivated by rejection of G-d’s authority over the individual.  The person sins because they do not want G-d telling them what to do.  Like an animal they follow the most base desires or instincts which are habitual without any concern regarding the personal or spiritual benefit for them personally or for others. [1]

Traditionally the Counting of the Omer is a time of self-improvement.  It is a time focused on refining one’s character in preparation for the day of Shavuot (Pentecost) on which the Torah and Holy Spirit were given.  It is symbolically a journey “from barley to wheat”.  The count begins with the minor Feast of Firstfruits, which in Temple times involved the offering of a sheaf or “omer” of the early barley crop to HaShem.  The count ends with Shavuot, also known as the Feast of Firstfruits, in which two leavened loaves of wheat bread were waved before HaShem.  Barley is an unrefined food that can be eaten raw and was often used as animal fodder in ancient times.  Wheat is inedible in its raw state and must be refined and milled in order to be usable for food.  Wheat must be manipulated by man, employing his creative abilities to transform it into bread.  The Omer count begins with barley and ends with wheat; it is a journey from unrefined to refined, from fleshly to spiritual.

But how is such a journey possible?  Especially since as humans we “crave chametz”, for the evil inclination is a real and constant part of this present life.  Rav Chaim Volozhin in his commentary on Pirkei Avot, offers counsel on how to avoid the three expressions of the evil inclination, beginning with the easiest to overcome and moving progressively toward that which is most difficult.

In Volozhin’s view it is easiest to overcome sin that we tend to rationalize away.  In order to do this one must make sure their actions are deemed acceptable in the eyes of G-d-fearing people and be willing to receive and heed rebuke.  Unrestrained sin, is considered more difficult to overcome, and involves being scrupulous in obedience, even regarding the most “minor” of commandments, as well as purposely thinking before acting. Habitual sin, is the most difficult to overcome.  Avoidance of this requires serious consideration of the rewards and costs involved in obedience to G-d, versus sinning against Him.  These realities must be contemplated before the opportunity to sin presents itself.  [2]

Rabbi Volozhin uses a story from Sukkah 52b (based on 2 Samuel 12:1-4) to illustrate the strategy of the evil inclination.  In this story; “two men lived in a city, one rich and one poor.  The rich man had plenty of cattle, but the poor man had only one small lamb which he raised and treated like one of his own children.  A traveler came to the rich man.  He did not want to take from his own cattle to prepare for his guest, so he took the poor man’s lamb and prepared it for the man.”  The visitor in the story is the evil inclination who at first is a traveler, then a guest and last, a man.

To prepare a meal for a poor and tired traveler is a great mitzvah.  The evil inclination first tempts a person by presenting sin disguised as something exceedingly good. Once a person has sinned by rationalizing the greater good, the evil inclination goes a step further by presenting sin as a “guest”.  To prepare a meal for a guest is an act of kindness, but less than a great mitzvah.  This corresponds to unrestrained sin which provides benefit to self or others.  Once an individual has succumbed to rationalized sin and unrestrained sin, the evil inclination then presents sin as a “man”, or a friend for whom there is no mitzvah to prepare a meal.  This corresponds to habitual sinning in which obedience to G-d is completely disregarded as the person rejects heavenly authority and does what he desires.  Such habitual sinning is the very goal of the evil inclination. [3]

With all this in mind, one can discern the wisdom and inspiration found in the days of the Omer count and how it aids us in moving from unrefinement to refinement in our character.  The Omer began with the presenting of the barley sheaf in the Temple, on the second day of Pesach.  The offering of the barley omer made the new barley crop permissable for consumption.  Remarkably, barley is one of the five grains considered chametz which is forbidden during the seven days of Pesach.  In this way, during the first six days of the Omer a “thread” or “streak” of temptation presented itself in the midst of greater good.  The barley crop was at the same time permitted and forbidden, permitted because it had been dedicated to G-d but yet forbidden because it was chametz. In the eyes of the G-d fearing community it would have been completely wrong to eat barley before Pesach ended.  Therefore the individual avoided rationalized sin during these six days, by abstaining from a grain that in essence was permitted but in reality was forbidden. 

The Omer count itself involves attention to detail and scrupulous obedience, although it is considered a minor mitzvah in comparison to the removal of and abstinence from chametz during Pesach.  Both the day and the weeks of the Omer must be counted properly at nightfall, which is the responsibility of every individual.  If the count was not made during the night then a blessing is not recited when counting during the day.  If the count is missed completely on any given day, then for the remainder of days one counts without a blessing.  In these details one is forced to think before acting within the scope a this minor mitzvah, which presents the opportunity to strengthen the very characteristics necessary to avoid unrestrained sin.

The conclusion of the Omer brings one into erev Shavuot in which the tradition of Tikkun Leil Shavuot (repair of Shavuot night) occurs with an all-night Torah study including focus on pertinent sections such as the creation account and 10 commandments. On this night the cost and reward of obeying the commandments versus the cost and reward of sin is considered in great detail, which is the very discipline needed to avoid the most difficult and pervasive expression of the evil inclination, habitual sin.

In the Omer count is indeed found a journey, one which begins with the less refined details necessary to avoid rationalized sin (the easiest of sin to overcome). This journey contains 49 days of practice and discipline involving characterisics needed to avoid unrestrained sin, all of which culminate in one spectacular day in which the giving of Torah and the Spirit are celebrated.  In Torah and the Spirit are found the most refined “ingredients” ever given to man to be used and manipulated, learned and obeyed, as the sole means of avoiding and overcoming habitual sin which permeates to the very heart and passions of our desire.

………………………………………………………………………….

[1]  Based on the teachings of Shem MiShmuel as presented by Rabbi Hershel Reichman; The Spiritual Characteristics of Chametz, audio recording available here.

[2] Rabbi Chaim Volozhin, Ruach Chaim, rendered into English by Chanoch Levi, 2002, Targum Press,Southfield,Michigan, pp. 80-81

[3] Ibid.  pp. 81-82.

Reflections on Shavuot; A Neglected Festival

In reflecting on Shavuot preparations this year a common theme seemed to emerge from the online and printed resources I came across – the theme of Shavuot as the forgotten and neglected holiday.  Various articles presenting details and basics about the meaning and customs of Shavuot reluctantly added comment about the lack of observance of this festival in general.   An interesting field study presented in Tablet Magazine conjectured that emotional attachment to Shavuot is more difficult than any other Jewish holiday.  Although Shavuot is one of the “big three” pilgrimage festivals (shalosh regalim) in which all male Israelites were to present before HaShem at the Temple, the reinventing of it by the rabbis — after the destruction of the Temple in 70 CE, as the day upon which Torah was given at Sinai — failed to “capture the imagination of Jews in America or anywhere else” [apart from the Orthodox community]. 

 In the opinion of the Tablet article, because Shavuot is a “serious holiday about law and responsibility” it naturally is “too abstract to become popular among all but the most engaged or observant Jews”. Because there is “no stuff and nothing to do, if you don’t go to shul” on Shavuot, it has become the pet favorite of rabbis, scholars, and those who like to keep their noses in Torah.  Being a holiday of books it is a hard sell, despite the fact that Jews pride themselves on being “people of the Book” with the giving of Torah occupying a most pivotal moment in the narrative of the people as a nation.   

With these thoughts in mind I couldn’t help but feel a sickening sense of irony as a believer in Yeshua looking ahead to Shavuot and contemplating the neglect of it in my spiritual journey so far.   In my upbringing as a Catholic, although Pentecost was celebrated and the countdown to it enumerated Sunday by Sunday through the missalette, it didn’t hold the status of Christmas or Easter. No special dinners, gifts or joyous celebrations were part of this day, only a formal Mass on the Sunday upon which it fell in the liturgical calendar.  

After “getting saved”, I immediately left behind Catholicism and spent 18 years in Evangelical settings.  In this setting, Pentecost was not formally celebrated, as liturgy in general was considered an adversary to “Spirit filled worship”.  As I think back now . . . how incredible it is that the day upon which the Spirit was given — the very entity that enables “true and meaningful worship” in the Evangelical mind — is overlooked with little more than an occasional passing mention and coloring pages of disciples with flames upon their heads to occupy the children in their Sunday School classes.  This neglect of Pentecost was woefully illustrated to me personally a few years ago, as a new “Messianic”.  In explaining to my young adult son my desire to observe Pentecost in an authentic biblical manner, his reply was “what’s Pentecost”?  Despite the fact that he had attended Christian schools and was raised in Evangelicalism, attending church three times a week, as well as a weekly Bible Club and numerous summer camps, I had to jog his memory regarding this momumental event, one which he admitted he “somewhat” remembered.  

But perhaps the worse irony is to be found among the Messianics, those who desire to practice their faith in Yeshua according to the historical, religious and cultural context of the first century believers.  In the first Messianic congregation I attended, a local UMJC synagogue, Shavuot was observed on the Shabbat which occured closest to the actual holiday, for a weekday observance would certainly be inconvenient and not draw the necessary attendance.  The festival came and went as any other day of the week and was enthusiastically celebrated in a “belated” and/or “early” way on Shabbat.  An Oneg filled with blintzes and cheesecake topped off the festivities, after which everyone went on with their Saturday activities as usual. 

As I learned more about Shavuot I desired to celebrate it on the actual date.  Searching for weeks online, I came across a small home fellowship that loosely followed a rabbinic liturgical format.  After attending just one spring festival season with this group of approximately 20 people, they disbanded due to internal differences.  From this a small “spin off” Messianic community formed which I have been associated with for the past three years.  The first Shavuot with this group was cancelled because I and another woman were the only ones available and/or interested to attend prayer that day.  The next Shavuot I celebrated at Beth Immanuel in Wisconsin with the FFOZ Conference. It was here that for the first time I experienced the festival in its inspirational and liturgical glory.

For the disciple of Messiah, Shavuot is not a reinvented holiday, but one of authentic revelation and inspiration — the pivotal moment of the giving of the Holy Spirit as the  identifying and defining characteristic of the people of the Kingdom, the Israel of G-d, and a parallel complement to the giving of Torah on Sinai.  How is it that even among us, the first fruits of Messiah’s work, Pentecost is observed with a spirit of neglect and disinterested duty at worst -or- partial, sloppy and unfocused devotion at best?  What would a field study of Christians and Messianics show regarding Shavuot?  Could it be that we like the Jews, have trouble emotionally connecting to this day, because it doesn’t have enough “mazel” or elements of material and ritual to inspire our interest?  Unfortunately, it seems that the “people of the Book” and the “people of the Spirit”, as well as the people that claim both, have much  trouble embracing this day with the enthusiasm, devotion, discipline, and joy that it rightfully deserves.

Considering the Shtei Halechem

In thinking about the foods I will prepare for Shavuot upcoming and browsing through recipes online and in other resources recently, I came upon an interesting and nice custom regarding the challot baked in celebration of this day.  In some traditions the challah loaves for Shavuot are formed into various shapes as reminders of the themes and details of this festive time. According to one custom the loaves are braided with a ladder design to represent Moses ascending Sinai to receive the Torah and coming down again to present it to Israel.  A ladder of five rungs recall the five books of Torah, a ladder of seven rungs recall the seven weeks between Pesach and Shavuot.  Another custom is to form larger elongated challot symbolizing the Two Loaves (Shtei Halechem) brought as a wave offering before HaShem on that day.

Of the various offerings of Shavuot, perhaps nothing evokes a sense of mystery and contemplation as does the Shtei Halechem, the two leavened loaves.  Since leaven was forbidden as an offering upon the Temple altar, and the spring festival season commenced with seven days of Matzot in which leaven was not to be eaten or found in one’s possession, why are two leavened loaves presented to HaShem on Shavuot?  How is the giving of Torah and the giving of the Holy Spirit related to the dedication of that which is chametz?

The most widely embraced understanding of the leavened loaves among Christians and Messianics is to view the two breads as representing Jew and Gentile together in the one body of “the church”.  Although both are yet in a sinful state (symbolized by leaven) they are dedicated to HaShem and found worthy to receive the Spirit through the work of Messiah.   This understanding has lead to the popular tradition in Messianic congregations of waving challot before the L-RD as part of Shavuot prayer and worship.

The purpose of the korbanot (offerings) in general, based on the meaning of the Hebrew word, is to draw one closer to HaShem.  Each korban represents spiritual realities meant to elevate man as one created in the image of G-d.  With this in mind one may ask what purpose or spiritual reality is realized through the waving of loaves understood to symbolize two groups of people filled with sin?  How can this be reconciled with Paul’s admonishment that those in Messiah must be “an unleavened lump”?  In what way would such a korban aid in spiritually elevating the community of believers at large not only in a symbolic sense, but also in a real sense?  With these questions in mind what started out as a search for recipes turned into a serious consideration of the Shtei Halechem. 

A Symbol of Torah

Leviticus 23:19 explains that the Two Loaves were dedicated to HaShem together with two lambs as a peace offering. The Talmud (Menachot 68a, Sukkah 37b) states that the loaves were waved twice before the altar, once prior to the lambs being slaughtered and once after the slaughtering, being waved together with the breast and thigh of the sheep.  The offering of leavened bread was a typical feature of the thanksgiving-peace offering described in Leviticus 7 in which both unleavened and leavened loaves were brought by the individual. The Shtei Halechem of Shavuot is unique as a peace offering because it was brought on behalf of the community (rather than the individual) and consisted of leavened bread exclusively.  

Rabbi Hirsch understands the leavened loaves of the thanksgiving-peace offering to symbolize life, growth, and unrestrained freedom.  The individual presented the offering to thank HaShem for deliverance from a crisis situation, including survival of a potentially dangerous journey.  After surviving a crisis both unleavened and leavened loaves were offered in thanks to G-d recognizing His provision of basic sustenance (unleavened bread) and the opportunity for life and growth afforded the individual who had survived the crisis (leavened bread). [1]  Therefore,the Shtei Halechem as the bread of the Shavuot peace offering speaks of opportunity for life, growth and freedom afforded to Israel whom HaShem safely brought through a potentially dangerous journey (in the wilderness from Egypt to Mt. Sinai, and in a greater sense, to the Promised Land where the wheat harvest would be realized).

Rabbinic commentators in general understand the two loaves to represent Torah, being that Shavuot traditionally memorializes the giving of Torah on Sinai and the Ten Commandments which were written upon two tablets of stone.  Torah is symbolically related to bread in Scripture based on verses such as Deuteronomy 8:3 which was also referenced by Yeshua during his temptation in the wilderness (Matthew 4:4, Luke 4:4). In a deeper sense the two loaves can be viewed as two aspects of Torah, the hidden and the revealed.

This understanding of the Shtei Halechem, as the bread of Torah symbolizing freedom, life and growth is consistent with themes found in the Apostolic Scriptures, particularly from the mouth of James who describes Torah as “the perfect Law of liberty”.  

A Symbol of Spiritual Progress

Although the leavened loaves can be understood to represent unrestrained growth and life that Torah provides, they also represent the climax of the nation’s spiritual journey at Shavuot which started with the redemption from Egypt at Pesach.  The barley of the Omer offering on the festival of Early Firstfruits is often compared and contrasted to the leavened wheat of the Shtei Halechem in considering Israel’s spiritual progress from Egypt to Sinai.   

Barley was brought as a grain (mincha) offering in only two instances described in Torah; as the Omer of firstfruits and as a grain offering brought by a woman suspected of adultery (sotah).  The Talmud (Sotah 14a) speaks of barley as the food of animals in relation to the sotah for she “acted like an animal” by following her base physical drives and desires in being secluded with a man who was not her husband.  Barley is grain which can be eaten raw and was used in ancient times as animal fodder.  From this the barley offering of the Omer, the food of animals, is understood to describe Israel’s low spiritual state in coming out of Egypt. [2]  Like the sotah, the nations’ focus and preoccupation was upon physical desires and concerns, as evidenced through complaints against Moses and HaShem in the early stages of the journey to Sinai.  

During the 49 days of the Omer the people progressed spiritually bringing such base desires and preoccupations under control.  Therefore, on Shavuot leavened loaves of wheat represent the character of the people in receiving the Torah.  Wheat is the food of humans for it cannot be eaten raw or given to animals as fodder in a raw state.  Wheat must be manipulated by man, employing his creative abilities to transform it into the nutritious and satisfying form of bread. On Shavuot the two loaves speak of the nation in a state of spiritual refinement, as leavened wheat, in which ego or self-esteem (represented by the leaven) was offered to HaShem in complete dedication. 

Therefore, the Shtei Halechem represents the qualities necessary to embrace and learn from Torah and thereby live and grow in it.  The leavened loaves symbolize self-esteem while the lambs upon which they were waved in dedication before HaShem speak of humility (as a lamb is a lowly and meek animal).  Self-esteem tempered with humility are necessary characteristics in pursuing holiness through Torah.  These characteristics are involved in both the revealed and hidden aspects of Torah, but in different ways.  The revealed or literal Torah is understood through the mind and intellect which requires self-esteem but little humility.  The hidden things of Torah or mysteries of HaShem are discerned spiritually, being “matters of the heart” which leads to great humility for those to whom such hidden things have been entrusted.  [3]

The accounts of Shavuot and the giving of the Holy Spirit in the Apostolic Scriptures relate many of these themes.  Yeshua explained that the Spirit would lead the disciples into all truth by revealing “things that are to come” (the mysteries and deeper hidden things of Torah) (John 16:3).  Paul speaks clearly of the humility he experienced as one entrusted with such mysteries (cf. Ephesians 3:9, 2 Corinthians 12:7).  On the day of Shavuot and giving of the Holy Spirit in Acts 2, those who heard plainly the praises of HaShem in their own language displayed little humility or awe, accusing the disciples of being drunk.  Those who embraced the deeper truths of Torah through Peter’s sermon, entered into salvation with the result being “awe coming upon every soul” (great humility). 

A Symbol of the World to Come

Shavuot is also understood to allude to the World to Come. This is hinted at in the Mishnah and Talmud in which Chazal refer to this feast as simply “atzeret”.  Because atzeret comes from the same root as the word atzar (meaning “stop”), it is understood to describe Shavuot as the day of conclusion or “stop” of the spring festival season. Atzeret is also related to the day of Shemini Atzeret which was the eighth day conclusion of the seven day festival of Sukkot.  In similar fashion Shavuot can be considered the “eighth day” conclusion to the seventh-day festival of Pesach.  But instead of coming at the end of seven days, Shavuot occurs at the end of seven weeks of seven days (or 49 days), as an eighth day following seven groups of seven. [4]

In Jewish mystical thought seven represents the natural order of things in this present existence while eight represents the number “beyond seven” encompassing the supernatural, or the “time beyond time” of the World to Come.  Therefore the holiday of Passover occupying seven days is related to this physical world.  The counting of the Omer as well, occupying 49 days, or seven groups of seven speaks of the natural order of things. [5] But Shavuot, occurring on the “eight day” alludes to the World to Come and the ultimate conclusion or fulfillment of Pesach that will occur when Mashi’ach returns.

In considering Yeshua as our Passover (1Corinthians 5:7) a similar pattern is seen.  His resurrection from the dead, coinciding with the barley Omer offering of Early Firstfruits provides freedom and deliverance from the “chains of death”.  Yet, such freedom, although hoped for and believed through faith, is not yet realized.  Therefore, the believer, like the Israelite newly redeemed from Egypt, must struggle and work in this life to overcome and elevate the base physical drives of the evil inclination.

During the Omer period after the resurrection, Yeshua appeared to and interacted with his disciples, teaching and exhorting them while in a perfected spiritual body as they yet occupied an earthly physical existence. The Omer period, therefore, symbolizes the daily striving of the believer to journey ahead and grow spiritually in this life by following and focusing upon the risen Messiah, just as Israel strove ahead spiritually on their journey from Egypt to Sinai with the focus of receiving Torah on their minds.

On the 40^th day of the Omer, Yeshua ascended into heaven.  Ten days later on Shavuot the Holy Spirit came upon the disciples as a deposit and seal guaranteeing what is yet to come, a foretaste of what it will be like to have the Torah written upon the heart. Torah as the most basic and instinctual desire and drive will be fully realized at the resurrection from the dead in the existence of the spiritual body. 

. . . . . . . . . . .

Ironically, my study of the Shtei Halechem over the past week produced much the same results as my search for Shavuot recipes, as details woven together and considered separately lead to various shapes, forms and imagery involving Shavuot and the Two Leavened Breads.  Just as the challot upon the festive meal table may take on various shapes to symbolize various aspects of this time, so too various considerations regarding the Shtei Halechem illustrate truths to be reflected upon and lessons to be learned.

Yet, I come away from this study with a general uneasyness regarding the standard Messianic/Christian understanding of the loaves as Jew and Gentile sinners together in one body dedicated before the L-RD through Messiah.  Such loaves take on an odd shape in my mind and are difficult to “swallow” so to speak.  Somehow this understanding seems forced and based on eisegesis that obscures the wonderful double nature of the festival of Shavuot in which Torah revealed and hidden, handled and contemplated by G-d’s people with intellect and humility, is the very sustenance of life in this world, and in the Word to Come.

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[1]  Rabbi Nosson Scherman, The Stone Edition Chumash, Mesorah Publications, Brooklyn, NY, 1996, p. 575.

[2]  Adapted from Rabbi Leib Shapiro, The Omer and Shtei Halechem, available here 

[3] Ibid.

[4]  Adapted from Rami Genauer, Redemption Comes at Sinai, available here

[5] Ibid.

“Palm Sunday” on Thursday

Today is Nisan 10, five days before the Passover.  According to the Gospels, the day of Yeshua’s triumphant arrival into Jerusalem; “sitting on a donkey’s colt” (in fulfillment of Zechariah 9:9). Amidst all the reading, cleaning, and obsessing over details of halachah regarding the removal of chametz and the steps of the Passover Haggadah, how easy it is to enter into this “Holy Week” without even a thought regarding the liturgical timing of it all.  A week that actually began yesterday on Nisan 9 with the account of Yeshua’s anointing at Bethany, described in John’s gospel as having occurred “six days before the Passover”.  Despite the various viewpoints and arguments surrounding the day of Yeshua’s crucifixion and the time he spent in the grave, the Gospels provide much detail regarding the days leading up to Passover during that time.   Another source for adding liturgical meaning and focus to this time of year is the daily Collects and Psalms for Holy Week and Easter Week as found in the Book of Common Prayer.  

Below is a list of suggested verses from the Apostolic Scriptures and portions from the Book of Common Prayer that one might consider to keep focused on liturgical time, during Pesach and the Counting of the Omer – based on the view that Yeshua died on the afternoon of Nisan 14 (at the same time the Pesach lambs were being offered in the Temple), and that the Last Supper was held on erev Nisan 14.  This is a simple attempt to arrange a timeframe to enrich the celebration of the Pesach and Omer seasons for the believer, despite difficulties in arriving at an exact chronology based on the synoptics vs. John’s gospel account. 

Nisan 9

John 12:1-11

Nisan 10 (Collect and Psalms for Palm Sunday)

Matthew 21:1-11, Mark 11:1-11, Luke 19:28-44, John 12:12-50

Nisan 11 (Collect and Psalms for Monday of Holy Week)

Matthew 21:12-19, Mark 11:12-19, Luke 19:45-48

Nisan 12 (Collect and Psalms for Tuesday of Holy Week)

Matthew 21:20-26:16, Mark 11:20-14:11, Luke 20:1-22:6

Nisan 13 (Collect and Psalms for Maundy Thursday)

During the Day:

Matthew 26:17-19, Mark 14:12-16, Luke 22:7-13

After Bedikat Chametz:

Matthew 26:20-35, Mark 14:17-31, Luke 22:14-38, John 13:1-16:33

Before Retiring:

Matthew 26:36-56, Mark 14:32-52, Luke 22:39-53, John 18:1-11

Nisan 14 (erev Pesach) (Collect and Psalms for Good Friday)

Early Morning (prior to Biur Chametz):

Matthew 26:57-27:44, Mark 14:53-15:32, Luke 22:54-23:43, John 18:12-19:24

Between 12 noon and 3:00 pm (Sixth-Ninth Hour)

Noon:  Matthew 27:45-66

1:00 pm.:  Mark 15:33-47

2:00 pm:  Luke 23:44-56

3:00 pm:  John 19:25-42

Nisan 15 (1^st Day Chag HaMatzot) (Collect and Psalms for Holy Saturday)

Matthew 27:62-66 

At nightfall, after counting the Omer:

Matthew 28:1-10, Mark 16:1-11, Luke 24:1-12, John 20:1-18

Nisan 16 (First Omer/Yeshua’s Resurrection) (Collect and Psalms for Easter Sunday)

Luke 24:13-49, John 20:19-23

Nisan 17 (Collect and Psalms for Monday in Easter Week)

Nisan 18 (Collect and Psalms for Tuesday in Easter Week)

Nisan 19 (Collect and Psalms for Wednesday in Easter Week)

Nisan 20 (Collect and Psalms for Thursday in Easter Week)

Nisan 21  (7^th Day Chag HaMatzot/ 6^th Day Omer)

(Collect and Psalms for Friday in Easter Week)

Nisan 22 (Collect and Psalms for Saturday in Easter Week)

Nisan 24 (9^th Day Omer)

John 20:24-30

Iyar 18 (33^rd Day Omer/Lag B’Omer)

John 21

Although we do not know when John 21 took place we do know it was during the Omer period and prior to the Ascension.  In this account we get a glimpse of the Master’s interactions with the disciples during this 40 day time of preparation and teaching regarding the Kingdom and his Ascension into heaven.  Some Messianics eat a fish and bread breakfast on this day.

Iyar 25 (40^th Day of Omer/Yeshua’s Ascension) (Collect and Psalms for Ascension)

Mark 16:19-20, Luke 24:50-53, Acts 1:1-14

Sivan 6 (50^th Day of Omer/Shavuot/Pentecost) (Collect and Psalms for Pentecost)

Acts 2

Other Resources to Consider

Reflections on Lag Ba’Omer and Ascension Day

For Sivan 1-5 (45th-49th Day of Omer):

A Messianic Jewish Shavuot Haggadah (pp. 3-7)

The Messianic Gentile and the Sale of Chametz

Last year after Pesach ended I decided to create a Word document to help me plan and prepare for Pesach the following year.  In reviewing this document recently, under the date of Nisan 13 was the reminder to sell my chametz online on that day. Although I have not yet sold chametz in my observance of Pesach so far, in reading and learning more about the biblical admonitions regarding it I felt this would be an appropriate thing to do (this year).  

The commandments regarding chametz during Pesach are multi-faceted.  Not only is one admonished not to eat leaven during this time but also to “put an end to leaven from your houses” (Exodus 12:15) that “no leaven shall be found in your houses” (Exodus 12:19) and “that no leavened bread shall be seen with you” (Exodus 13:7).  In order to cover the wide ranging implications of these commands the rabbis have instituted a four step process regarding chametz.  First leaven is to be searched for throughout the home (bedikat chametz), then it is nullified by verbal declaration (bitul chametz) after which it is destroyed via burning (biur chametz) and legally sold to a non-Jew (mechirat chametz).  

Of course a logical question arises when it comes to mechirat chametz for if verbal nullification makes chametz as the “dust of the earth”, declaring it practically useless and ownerless, why would it be necessary to legally sell any remaining/stored leavened products to a non-Jew?  In the eyes of chazal this issue is a matter of intent.  For bitul chametz to be legally effective it must be said with all sincerity. This means that once the leaven is nullified and declared ownerless theoretically a stranger off the street could take it away without any objection from the one who has stored it — for by declaration the chametz is no longer his and does not serve any useful purpose for him.  In the case, especially, of an individual who has a significant amount of chametz during Pesach (such as an owner of a liquor store or a grocery store) it would be nearly impossible for the verbal nullification to be said with all sincerity of heart.  Therefore, a legally binding sale insures that even if an individual is reluctant regarding nullifying chametz, he has fulfilled the commandment regarding it through a real and specific action.  [1]

For the Messianic believer the issue of selling chametz perhaps is not so cut and dry, especially in light of the current debates regarding One Law vs. Divine Invitation models.  In speaking with someone about this recently, it was pointed out that the legal contracts of selling chametz as arranged by competent rabbis always involve its sale to a non-Jew.  There is no way of knowing, especially through an online sale, exactly who the non-Jewish buyer is, particularly regarding their religious persuasion.  Therefore, the possibility exists that the non-Jewish buyer may be a Christian who is willing to perform this legality out of kindness toward the Jew and his observance of Pesach.  

From a One Law perspective, that understands Torah as binding upon all believers as G-d’s way of righteousness for both Jew and Gentile, to sell chametz to Christians would be to cause them to sin in a legally binding and significant way.  For through such a legal contract the Gentile believer would take on the ownership of incredibly large amounts of chametz during the very days that Scripture forbids it under penalty of being completely cut off from the community of G-d’s children, Israel.  With this in mind it would seem that the only way a One Law advocate could rightfully sell chametz would be through an individual sale arranged with a non-Jewish person who is known to be an unbeliever. 

Yet, in the One Law camp rabbinic halachah is scrutinized based on what one understands the Scripture to be literally saying. According to Tim Hegg in his paper entitled “Chameitz & Pesach” the admonition of Exodus 13:19 that “nothing leavened shall be seen among you” should be understood in the most literal sense, based on the Hebrew, as leaven not being seen “with you” indicating that “leavened food should not be seen as belonging to you”.  [2]  The apparent sense of ownership of leaven according to Scripture, in Hegg’s view, is practical ownership rather than forensic ownership as understood by the rabbis.  In other words, when Scripture says that chametz should not “be seen as belonging to you” this means that one should not use it in any practical way.  Ownership in this way is defined as usability.  When chametz is rendered unusable it therefore is no longer seen as belonging to the individual. As long as one stores all chametz away and does not utilize what is rightfully his during the seven days of Matzot, this fulfills the scriptural commandment.  Therefore, the halachic sale of chametz is understood as a rabbinic invention that embraces “nothing remotely taught in Torah itself”. [3]

From a Divine Invitation perspective only a Jewish believer is obligated to remove chametz and abstain from eating it during Pesach, for the festivals are understood to be uniquely “Jewish aspects” of Torah involving covenantal loyalty of Israel toward G-d that those of the nations are not included in.  However, the Gentile believer may, out of love of G-d and a desire to identify with Israel, participate without obligation, in the removal of and abstinence from chametz during the festival.  Yet, it would seem, based on a bilateral ecclesiology approach, that the Gentile believer indeed, in his unique and separate role, would better serve the body of Christ through buying chametz from his Jewish brethren, who are under strict obligation to fulfill all aspects of its prohibition during Pesach.  Otherwise the optional involvement of Gentile believers in removal of and abstinence from chametz, to the exclusion of providing a kindness toward those to whom it is a matter of covenantal loyalty, takes on an awkwardly selfish and unloving appearance.

This most practical outworking of a bilateral ecclesiology approach is difficult in light of Paul’s admonishment to the Corinthians to “purge out the old leaven”, for “even Christ our Passover is sacrificed for us” (1 Corinthians 5:8).  Yet, the leaven that Paul is referring to here is not that of wheat, rye, barley, oats and spelt, but rather of “malice and wickedness” as opposed to the unleavened characteristics of “sincerity and truth”.  If it is true that Gentiles are not obligated toward chametz removal per Torah then wouldn’t the most sincere action be to aid those who are obligated, i.e. the Jewish brethren?  This seems especially true in light of the fact that Messianic Jews seek legitimacy in the eyes of greater Judaism through proper respect for the established halachah which includes mechirat chametz.  With this in mind, Gentile believers from a Divine Invitation perspective seem to be caught between a rock and a hard place regarding the issue of chametz and Pesach. By attempting to show love for G-d and a desire to identify with Israel through respecting/observing the rabbinic halachah they inevitably make themselves incapable of performing an important aspect of the halachah on behalf of their Jewish brethren.

So, despite my well though out plans made a little less than a year ago, I am at this point uncertain what I will do when Nisan 13 rolls around.  Will I go to the online sale arranged by some rabbi I do not know, on behalf of a community of people I would not be recognized as a part of in any sense, and sell my chametz to a non-Jew who may very well be a Christian brother?  Or will I approach my Asian/Buddhist co-worker or the friendly physician I know at the hospital who is an Iranian/Agnostic and do my best to explain my beliefs and arrange a bill of sale with one of them? Or will I write off mechirat chametz as a rabbinic invention that in no way reflects the most literal and apparent sense of Torah ownership of chametz?

But for now, the basic question still remains, should a Messianic Gentile believer sell her chametz?

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[1]  Rabbi Hayim Halevy Donin, To Be a Jew, Basic Books, USA, 1972, pp. 227-228.

[2]  Tim Hegg, Chameitz & Pesach (notes on What Foods are Prohibited during Chag HaMatzot?), p.2, available at:  http://torahresource.com/EnglishArticles/Chameitz&Pesach.pdf

[3] Ibid.

The Spirit of Pesach in Nine Days Time

Shortly before Purim I sat down to figure out a cleaning schedule for the month leading up to Pesach.  This is the first year I have made such a detailed schedule.  In previous years I focused mostly on the kitchen and dining room and did a quick “once over” of the other rooms for possible evidence of chametz.  Because I am a neetnik by nature and keep the house tidy at all times, Pesach cleaning wasn’t such a big deal.  Yet this year I desire to be more exacting regarding the removal of chametz and to perform a total spring cleaning of the entire home prior to the holiday.

Working full time (three 12 hour days a week) and observing Shabbat leaves only three days in seven to fit in the extra cleaning.  Friday being one of the days, is busy with erev Shabbat preparations and only a few hours in the morning could be dedicated to such cleaning.  All total, of the 28 days between Adar 15 (March 1) and Nisan 13 (March 28) I have only nine days in which to get the job of removing and cleaning all chametz from the house finished — with four of the days scheduled for the kitchen alone.

I found myself wishing I could just stay home the entire month of March and focus exclusively on this task.  I imagined myself leisurely and thoroughly cleaning every square inch being inspired and sanctified by this most holy task for an entire month’s time. But as the reality of my limited schedule and other obligations faced me, the job seemed very daunting and weariness about it set in even before the month of March began.  That nagging voice within me began to well-up; “if you can’t do it right, don’t bother with it.”

In observant Jewish homes preparation for Pesach begins as soon as Purim ends. It is traditional on the evening after the conclusion of Purim for women to read and review the laws of removing chametz (leaven) and to begin the month long process of cleaning the following day. On the evening after Purim ended I printed out my cleaning schedule and hung it on the fridge.  Before going to sleep I sat in bed reading some literature about chametz removal.  As my eyes became heavy  I came across an excerpt from the 19th century work Noam Megadim.

In this work the author questions the halachah regarding matzah for Pesach.  Why is it that Pesach matzah must be made only from grains which can become chametz (undergo fermentation when exposed to moisture)? Certainly a tasty and suitable matzah could be made from other grains that do not ferment and could be handled without even a thought regarding the “18 minute rule” (time the rabbis have established in which fermentation will take place).  How is it that the very substance we so diligently search and scrub and remove with all carefulness from our homes is that which is used for the unleavened bread we eat during Chag HaMatzah?

 The author of Noam Megadim writes;

 “The Torah is teaching us here how to serve HaShem.  No man should seclude himself from the world and live in a wilderness in solitude, in order to insure that he has no opportunity to transgress against Torah – for under such circumstances his observance is not subject to his choice.  Rather it is when one lives together with other people, works with them, does business with them, and yet overcomes all evil inclinations, that is the true way of serving HaShem;  to be in a situation where one could become chametz, and yet succeeds in not doing so – just like the matzah.  For it is only when matzah is made of a substance that could become chametz, but is zealously guarded against this risk, that one can use it for the fulfillment of its mitzvah.” [1]

I found this to be a most meaningful teaching to kick-off the Pesach cleaning season.  It occurred to me that if I did have the entire month to leisurely clean every nook and cranny of the house the job would certainly get done but the spirit of the season would be lost.  With only nine days to complete the task the time must be zealously guarded for the risk of incompleteness and a bad attitude in the process is a real threat.  Pesach cleaning is a situation that presents the possibility of “becoming chametz” if I’m not careful.

Two days later I began to clean the bathrooms – day one of nine of the Pesach cleaning schedule — being oddly thankful for the opportunity to face the “crunch” ahead.  

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[1] Noam Megadim as cited in Rabbi Shlomo Yosef Zevin, The Festivals in Halachah, Mesorah Publications, New York, 1999, p. 723.

Rethinking the Afikomen

. . . The rabbis teach that after the destruction of the Temple, the Afikomen has taken the place of the Lambs that were sacrificed in the Temple and that it is the most important part of the Seder. Its taste should be what you remember from the meal. This Afikomen symbolizes the ultimate Passover sacrifice, our Messiah Yeshua, who gave His body for the atonement of our sins. Let us bless Adonai and eat the Afikomen. . .

With these words, I and 13 other individuals partook of the Afikomen matzah as the bread representing the body of Yeshua, at the Seder I attended with my Torah Community this past Wednesday night (Nisan 15).  This was the fifth Messianic Seder I have participated in and the first one I did not host in my home for exclusively family and friends.  The first two Seders I hosted were not held on the evening of Nisan 15 but rather on the Saturday afternoon prior to Easter Sunday.  I used the Seder as a “demonstration” to introduce family and friends to the beauty and profound meaning of celebrating Passover “the way Jesus would have”.  These Seders were a huge hit and my extended family would ask months in advance about the date of the Seder for the following year. 

The third year I hosted two Seders.  Being convicted that the Seder was not meant to be a demonstration but was a specific date given by HaShem and meant to be observed, I hosted a small Seder on the night of Nisan 15 in which a neighbor couple (who once were involved in a Messianic Synagogue I attended) were the only guests. The following Saturday afternoon I held the “demonstration” Seder for my extended family due to popular demand and not wanting to disappoint them.

Year four I was a little bolder.  Nisan 15 was a Saturday night that year, so the “friends and family Seder” could actually be held on the correct date. But along with this I insisted that instead of starting during mid-afternoon, as we had in previous years, we would start the Seder at nightfall according to the Biblical instructions.  A couple of family members bowed-out because of the inconvenience of the late hour (and the fact that they would have trouble getting up for church the next day). There were also some who questioned why I didn’t hold the Seder on the Saturday before Easter (which had occurred three weeks earlier) and expressed discomfort with it being held after Easter was long over.  

This year I haven’t heard a word from extended family and friends that have attended Seder meals in my home in previous years.  There are many reasons for this, but most specifically they realize that I am going to observe Pesach according to the Biblical/Jewish date and time.  It would appear that the novelty of it isn’t worth attending a very Jewish meal in the middle of the week, which seems so disconnected from Easter Sunday itself. 

Yet, despite the way my Pesach observance has “evolved” over the years, in every Seder I have hosted or attended, the Afikomen has always been used as the bread of communion, in remembrance of Yeshua’s body.  Of course the handling of the Afikomen; its being the larger broken half of the middle of three matzot, wrapped in a linen napkin and hidden away, only to be retrieved and reappear at the Seder table at a later time, immediately evokes imagery of the death (breaking), burial (hiding) and resurrection (reappearing) of Yeshua.

Trinitarians will also see the three persons of the Godhead as represented in the three matzot used during the Yachatz portion of the Seder which are placed in a special three compartment bag (Matzah Tasch) with the middle matsah being broken.  How easy it is to imagine the Trinity as represented in the three matzot with the 2^nd person, the son, being broken and suffering. 

Along with what seems to be very pointed Messianic symbolism, the Greek word for Afikomen, aphikomenos, used in the aorist tense, literally means “He has come”.  In some Messianic Haggadahs it is pointed out that the rabbis offer no explanation as to why the Afikomen part of the Seder is performed the way it is.  Among the wisest men of Israel this is a hidden mystery that is clear to those who believe in Yeshua and recognize in the Afikomen the identity of “he” who “has come”.  But is the Afikomen really the most fitting matzah to be used in remembrance of Yeshua’s body and death on the cross in a Seder setting?

Apart from the ongoing debates and opinions as to whether the Last Supper was a Seder meal or if it was a meal held before the evening of Nisan 15, the Synoptic accounts agree that Yeshua blessed the bread prior to distributing it during the meal. Paul, in 1 Corinthians 11:23-24 also highlights this fact.  In the original meal of the Last Supper the bread of communion had HaMotzi pronounced over it before being partaken of.  In the Seder, the Afikomen is most unusual because a blessing is not pronounced prior to eating it.  Although some Messianic Seders include HaMotzi before the eating of the Afikomen this is an addition not in keeping with the traditional Haggadah.  Also, the Afikomen is not part of the meal; it is considered the “dessert” which is partaken of after the meal portion (Shulchan Orech) is completed. 

Although the Greek aphikomenos means “He has come”, this is not the understanding of the word Afikomen as used in Talmudic accounts.  The Afikomen is discussed in both the Babylonian (Pesachim 119b) and Jerusalem (Pesachim 10:4-11) Talmud.  The Mishnah of Pesachim 119b states; “You may not conclude after the Paschal meal (by saying) ‘now to the Afikomen’”.  Immediately the Chazal begin to discuss “what does Afikomen mean?”

The first opinion, given by Rav, is that “they must not remove from one company to another.” In other words, once the Paschal meal is completed one must not go on to other Pesach (chavurah) groups to celebrate or participate in the korban Pesach with them. According to the opinion of Samuel (and others) the Afikomen describes snacks and desserts that should not be eaten after partaking of the korban Pesach.  In the Jerusalem Talmud (Pesachim 10:6) R. Inaini and R. Sisai understand Afikomen as entertainment with musical instruments which one should not become involved with after the Seder is concluded.  

The Talmudic opinions address well established norms in the time of the Mishnah surrounding the concept of the Greek symposia.  At the end of a symposium it was traditional for the participants to proceed to neighboring homes where there would be delicacies to eat, merry-making and music. This practice was called epikomion, or “after-dinner activities/entertainment”.  Therefore, although the exact etymology of Afikomen is not explained in the Talmud and the meaning of the word includes many Midrashic and folk etymologies, the most widely held view is that the Mishnah is making a point of forbidding “after dinner activities” common to a Greek/pagan culture in relation to the Seder.  [1]

Because the high point and focus of the Seder is the partaking of the meat of the Paschal lamb, later Rishonim (Rashi, Rashbam and others) designated the last piece of matzah, coming from the hidden and broken piece, to be the Afikomen, or the “after meal” food/dessert. [2] But apart from these points which could be seen as needlessly “picky” or unrelated to the reality of Yeshua’s death, lies the fact that the Afikomen in the Seder is used to represent the korban Pesach, which was not a sin offering or a burnt offering but was a peace offering which in itself had no atoning qualities at all.

The peace offering (Shelamim) in Torah (Leviticus 3) was brought for two reasons;

1. As a thanksgiving offering in recognition of a miraculous event. This offering is referred to by the rabbis as Shalmei Todah.  Before offering a Shalmei Todah the individual would lean his hands on the head of the animal to express his thanks to G-d. Since the peace offering did not atone for sin no confession of sin was made. The sacrifice was accompanied by leavened bread, and was required to be completely consumed by the morning after it was brought with no leftovers remaining.  In order to consume the sacrificial portion by the following morning others would be invited to join in the eating of the Shalmei Todah.  The purpose of this offering (to thank and praise G-d for a miraculous event) was best accomplished when the meal was shared and the story of G-d’s faithfulness related to many. 
2.  As a vow or freewill offering brought by an individual who swore to bring an offering to HaShem that was unrelated to any particular event.  This offering is referred to by the rabbis as Shalmei Neder u’ Nedavah, and differed from the Shalmei Todah as two days were allowed for the total consumption of it, instead of just one.

 The korban Pesach was a korban Todah with a slight difference being that no leavened bread was brought with it due to the stipulations of Pesach as found in Torah.  As a Shalmei Todah, the korban Pesach needed to be completely consumed the night of Passover, and involved a meal with a group of people through which G-d’s miracle of the Exodus from Egypt was retold and remembered.

Therefore, the Pesach lamb was not brought on account of sin and did not atone for sin.  The Afikomen in the Seder represents this lamb.  Yeshua in instituting the Lord’s Supper did not liken his body to the lamb of the Seder, but rather to bread.  Although Yeshua certainly is referred to as “the Lamb of G-d” in the Apostolic Scriptures, this “lamb” symbolism speaks of his atoning and redeeming function as taking away “the sin of the world”.  This function cannot be represented in the Afikomen which symbolizes the korban Pesach, a peace offering sacrifice with no atoning or redeeming features inherent to it at all.

The rabbis recognize two korban Pesach in the pages of Torah.  One is referred to as Pesach Mitzrayim and the other as Pesach Dorot.  Pesach Mitzrayim was the unique and one time sacrifice of the lamb in Egypt prior to the Exodus.  It was a lamb whose blood was applied to the door frames of the homes that the death of the firstborn would “Passover” the Children of Israel. This sacrifice was a one time, unique sacrifice, never to be repeated again.  Pesach Dorot was the yearly memorial of the Exodus from Egypt and therefore was a peace offering brought in recognition and praise of the miracle of redemption already accomplished.  The original Pesach Mitzrayim was brought with faith that redemption was imminent and would occur.  The memorial Pesach Dorot was brought with thanksgiving and remembrance for redemption which had already been realized.

Perhaps Yeshua did not liken his body to the korban Pesach (a memorial/peace offering) because the full reality of his sacrifice and the complete redemption it will bring is yet future.  Like the Pesach Mitzrayim, Yeshua’s sacrifice was a unique and one time event of which the complete redemptive reality is something we still anticipate in times ahead.  Therefore we cannot praise and thank G-d for redemption through Yeshua as something already completed and memorialized, as a Pesach Dorot, but instead look with anticipation to what we believe by faith is still ahead. 

 With these thoughts in mind it would seem that the Afikomen is not meant to be used as the bread of the Lord’s Supper in relation to a Messianic Seder. Reasons for this include:

1. The Afikomen receives no blessing before distribution and is partaken of after the meal is concluded.  Yeshua blessed the bread of the Last Supper prior to distributing it during the meal.  Paul reiterates these instructions regarding the bread of Communion in 1 Corinthians 11.  
2. The Greek aphikomenos (“he has come”) is not the understood etymology of the word Afikomen as used in both the Babylonian and Jerusalem Talmud. Instead, prohibiting the cultural practice of epikomion or “after dinner activities” in relation to the Seder seems to be in view.    
3. The Afikomen matzah represents the meat of the Paschal lamb, a peace offering with no atoning qualities. The “Lamb of G-d” title of Yeshua in the Apostolic Scriptures symbolizes the atoning and redeeming function of his sacrificial death.  The korban Pesach, represented by the Afikomen matzah of the Seder cannot properly symbolize Yeshua as “the Lamb of G-d”.  
4. Yeshua did not refer to the Pesach lamb to symbolize his body, but instead taught his disciples to partake of bread in remembrance of him. Like the original Passover lamb of Egypt (Pesach Mitzrayim) Yeshua’s death was a unique and one time sacrifice that promises a full and complete redemption in the future. The Afikomen represents the Pesach Dorot (peace offering) which memorializes a completed act of redemption (from Egypt).   

Perhaps the Motzi-Matzah (step 7-8 of the Seder) would provide a more fitting symbol by which to recognize and remember Yeshua’s body. For a blessing is said over this matzah prior to it being broken and distributed to others.  It is also part of the “lead in” to the meal of the Seder, being followed by the eating of the Maror (bitter herbs) and the Korech (matzah sandwich) before the Shulchan Orech (festive meal) is served. 

Yet, the Motzi-Matzah fulfills the mitzvah to eat unleavened bread at Pesach and symbolizes the bread of affliction and haste of the Exodus from Egypt itself.  Therefore, perhaps a better means of recognizing the Lord’s body during a Seder might be to pronounce HaMotzi over matzah during some point in the eating of the festive meal, break and distributed it, and take a moment to contemplate and recognize Yeshua’s sacrifice then.

. . . . . . .

In response to my previous post “As Often as You Do This” (April 3, 2009) a reader commented privately by saying that the details and concerns I related there were little more than “much ado about nothing”.  Perhaps my ponderings about the Afikomen might be viewed in the same way as well. For if inspirational meaning which honors Yeshua can be found in the details of the Afikomen then why try to “reinvent the wheel” of the standard Messianic Haggadah, so to speak. 

Yet, by applying details and symbolism of Yeshua into the Seder in a manner that disregards rabbinic understanding and Torah details; don’t Messianics come dangerously close to practicing a form of supersessionism?  Who is it then that is trying to reinvent the wheel?  I truly wonder who instituted the Afikomen as the bread of communion in the Messianic Seder.  Where did this practice originate?  This was one detail I was unable to find in my studying over the past couple of weeks.

With all this in mind I can’t help but wonder . . what the sixth annual Pesach Seder will be like for me on the night of March 29, 2010?   For I have a feeling my observance of this will continue to evolve even in ways I never would have imagined before.

 

[1] Balashon – Hebrew Language Detective; “Afikoman” (April 6, 2006). Available at: http://www.balashon.com/2006/04/afikoman.html

[2] Ibid.

As Often As You Do This

In my spiritual journey thus far I have worn many denominational “hats”.  Raised Catholic, I was “saved” in an Evangelical Friends meeting and years later became a member of a Southern Baptist Church before moving on to a non-denominational Bible Church. Since taking on Torah observance I have attended a UMJC synagogue and now attend a small unaffiliated Torah community in my area.  I have worshipped in settings that boasted over 1,000 in attendance on a Sunday morning, to one that met in a middle-school cafeteria, to my current Torah community of roughly ten individuals meeting in a modest rented office space.  Indirectly I also have had ties to a Church of Christ which hosted an interdenominational ladies Bible study I taught, as well as an Assemblies of God Church which ran the Christian Elementary School my children attended.

In this multi-faceted journey I have experienced wide variations of observing the Lord’s Supper.  “As often as you do this” means different things to different denominations.  In the Catholic Church “communion” was a weekly event. In the Baptist, Bible Church and UMJC settings the Lord’s Supper was the first Sunday of the month. In the Evangelical Friends the Supper was observed quarterly (once every three months). The Catholic and UMJC used unleavened bread for remembrance, while in the Evangelic Friends, Baptist and Bible Church leavened white bread was used.  In the Catholic Church wine mixed with water was taken while in all other churches/synagogues grape juice was used.

In my involvement with the current Torah community (over the past three years) the Lord’s Supper is celebrated at the Passover Seder, once a year.  The Afikomen is the bread of communion while the third cup (of Redemption) is the wine of communion.  Needless to say the partaking of the elements just once a year makes the Seder an extremely important and inspirational event that I look forward to with much anticipation. 

Yet, over the past week I have found myself confronted by an idea which I had not considered before.  If the Lord’s Supper was instituted on the evening of the 14^th of Nisan (rather than at the Pesach Seder on the 15^th), should the Supper be memorialized in the Seder at all?  It was pointed out to me this past week, that partaking of the Lord’s Supper at the Seder presents a conflict as related to Paul’s admonitions in 1 Corinthians 11.  In teaching the Corinthian believers about the Supper, Paul makes clear that to eat or drink in an unworthy fashion (i.e. not recognizing the bread as symbolizing Yeshua’s body and the wine as symbolizing his blood) is to “be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord” (v. 29) as well as eating and drinking “condemnation” upon oneself (v. 29).

In the literal instructions for the Pesach in Torah there is no hint of this at all.  An unbelieving Jew can partake of the Seder elements without recognizing Yeshua’s sacrifice in them and be absolutely blameless.  Hypothetically an unbelieving Jew could attend a Messianic Seder and reject the idea of Yeshua’s body and blood in the bread and wine and have no sin held against him.  The celebration of Pesach in itself does not encompass or demand faith in Yeshua, which the Lord’s Supper does require according to 1 Corinthians 11.  Therefore, the Lord’s Supper is not to be incorporated into a mo’ad that does not hold one accountable for recognition of such spiritual symbols.

This point was well taken, and seemed to have validity.  Suddenly I found myself wondering what to do about this, for the Seder I am anticipating with my Torah community this upcoming week will recognize the Lord’s Supper as part of the celebration.  Should I bow out of attending my community Seder?  Should I bring up such questions to the leaders of my community, less than a week before the Seder is planned to occur? Should I just celebrate alone at home without the Lord’s Supper being involved?  Or should I attend a Seder at a local synagogue as there are many of them to choose from in my area? 

The thought of further separation and isolation as I considered this question weighed heavily upon me.  Would this be a first in my spiritual journey, a year in which I do not celebrate the Lord’s Supper with fellow believers at all?  I could celebrate the Lord’s Supper on the evening of the 14^th and thereby recognize what I understand to be the actual date of the event in the most literal sense, but again, this is something which would need to be done. . alone.  Though my heart railed against the idea of not celebrating the Seder with my community, my mind chanted the familiar mantra; “if in doubt . . .don’t”.  

Therefore, with a mild sense of desperation I have scoured and contemplated Paul’s teachings in 1 Corinthians 11:17-29 over the past several days.  Many musings have come to my mind regarding what Paul might be actually communicating here.

Traditionally this passage is understood to be describing an “agape-feast” or fellowship meal setting in which the Corinthians are oblivious to good table manners.  Those who are able to bring food to the feast engorge themselves and do not share with those who have nothing to bring.  In this way some go hungry while others get drunk.  Paul rebukes the believers for such lack of decorum by admonishing them to eat at home instead of over indulging at the fellowship meal and shaming those who go hungry.  Aside from this horrible crudity, Paul has taught the Corinthian believers that the bread and the wine must be taken with discernment of the body and blood of Christ in such congregational settings, otherwise one eats and drinks damnation upon oneself.   

From this a Eucharistic pattern was formed and Paul’s words “as often as you do this” understood to mean “as often as you come together for a fellowship meal”, which has translated into the modern sense of as often as believers come together in general with various opinions regarding how often the elements of the Supper are to be observed.   

But considering the passage detail by detail presents some interesting things.  First, the entire context of Paul’s teaching is prefaced on the understanding that there are “divisions” and “factions” among the believers (v.18-19).  What does Paul have in mind here?  Are such divisions simply between the “have’s” and the “have not’s”, between those of means who can indulge in a meal vs. those of no means who can’t afford to bring food to a feast?  Or could it be something else?

Daniel Lancaster, writing in First Fruits of Zion’s Torah Club Volume 5, presents an excellent teaching regarding the ability of Gentiles to partake of the Seder meal, in light of Paul’s admonition to the early believers that they should not be circumcised.  Since Torah speaks of only circumcised males partaking of Pesach, wouldn’t uncircumcised Gentile believers be banned from participating at all?  After parsing out the terminology used in Exodus 12:43-49, Lancaster looks to the Talmud (Pesachim 96a) to conclude; “An uncircumcised non-Jew is allowed to keep the Seder and Feast of Unleavened Bread. Only regarding the actual lamb-sacrifice is he banned.” [1]  With this in mind certainly a faction or schism would naturally exist between Gentile and Jewish believers participating in a Seder meal (in Paul’s day), for the Gentile could not participate in the eating of the sacrificial lamb while the Jew could.  Could this be the division Paul has in mind in 1 Corinthians 11 which would lead to Gentile believers going hungry during a Seder meal while their Jewish brethren indulged in eating the sacrificial meat to the point of getting inebriated?

In v. 20 Paul speaks of the believers coming together “into one place” (KJV) or “at the same place” (YLT), the actual Greek phrase being “epi ho autos” (επι το αυτο).  Although many versions translate this phrase as simply “to come together”, both the KJV and Young’s Literal understand it to be speaking about a specific place.  Since Paul’s letter to the Corinthians was written to all believers in Corinth who occupied numerous places (Chapter 1 verse 2) certainly this must have included thousands of individuals involved in many synagogues throughout the region.  At what occasion would the majority of them, or the understood “whole” have met in “one place” or “at the same place”?  Could Paul be alluding to the “one place” as Jerusalem where the believers (as a sect of Judaism) would make the pilgrimage required by Torah to observe the Feast of Unleavened bread, which would include the Seder meal?  

In v.22 Paul seems to be comparing those who “have houses to eat in” as opposed to those “who have not”.  The Greek “oikia” (οικιας) is used exclusively in the LXX to translate bayit which by implication can speak of a “household” or family group. Jewish believers would certainly have family groups or households in which they could partake of the korban Pesach and indulge in the “meal” aspect of it, to their heart’s content.  Gentile believers, on the other hand, would have no such family groups and no permission to eat of the korban Pesach (being uncircumcised) at the Seder itself.  For a Jewish believer to participate in a Seder in which believing Gentiles are present and to disregard the fact that they are unable to eat of the sacrificial meat, while one feasts away on the meat and wine to the point of inebriation, would certainly be to despise and shame those who are fellow brethren in the Lord.

Paul’s admonition that the believers are coming together “not for the better” but rather “for the worse” (v.17) is due to the teachings regarding the Lord’s Supper that he has already given to them. That the Supper was instituted on the night Yeshua was betrayed, that the bread and wine symbolize his body and blood, that these elements should be partaken of in remembrance of him, and that in doing so the believers proclaim his death until he comes again (v.23-25).  

Although the popular understanding is that the Lord’s Supper may be celebrated or recognized any time believers come together and corporately recognize bread and wine/juice to symbolize Yeshua’s body and blood, Paul’s words here encompass but one timeframe; that of “the night he was betrayed”.  Of course this causes challenges because of the discrepancies and uncertainties among the Gospel accounts regarding when this night actually occurred (the 14^th of Nisan or the 15^th of Nisan or other opinions based on a three day and three night “sign of Jonah” approach).  But apart from the dilemma of discrepancies in general, all Gospel accounts would agree that the night Yeshua was betrayed is related to or connected with Passover.  Pesach is in focus no matter what the dating of this night of betrayal is understood to be.  

Because Yeshua is both “our Passover” (1 Corinthians 5:7) and “the Lamb of G-d” (John 1:29,36) it would seem that in Pesach itself is found the best representation and fullest proclamation of Yeshua’s death, as symbolized in the unleavened bread and cup of wine partaken of on that night.

In concluding Paul brings home his point by saying;

For as often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do show the Lord’s death till he come.  Wherefore whosoever shall eat this bread, and drink this cup of the Lord, unworthily, shall be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord. But let a man examine himself, and so let him eat of that bread, and drink of that cup.  For he that eateth and drinketh unworthily, eateth and drinketh damnation to himself, not discerning the Lord’s body. (1 Corinthians 11:26-29 KJV)

Several things are striking here; first, that the bread and cup Paul speaks of are very specific “this bread” and “this cup”, the bread and cup “of the Lord” which seems to be relating to a very specific time and situation rather than any variable fellowship meal or congregational gathering that might be designated to incorporate the elements of the Lord’s body and blood.  This specific bread and cup must be discerned and understood consciously as representing the Lord’s body.  This is why Paul says “examine yourself” (i.e. make sure you are aware of what you are partaking of and what it represents).

Although Pesach as taught in Torah carries with it no condemnation for those who do not recognize the elements as symbolizing Yeshua’s body and blood and no guilt for those who do not have faith in him, it would seem that for believers this is not the case.  Since a believer understands the symbolism of the bread and wine as being the body and blood of the Master who died on the cross during Pesach, we are then accountable regarding this understanding as we partake of the Seder even if unbelieving Jews are not. For Scripture makes clear that we will be judged on what we know and what we had opportunity to learn.  

With these things in mind I plan to head out on Monday to purchase the brisket of beef I ordered from the kosher butcher in a neighboring town, as I have volunteered to provide the brisket for my community’s Seder this year.  Little do my fellow congregants realize how close they came to not having a brisket at the Seder, or the presence of the person who volunteered to prepare it.

Although my mind and heart are settled enough at the moment to participate in the Seder this year and the Lord’s Supper incorporated into it, I realize not everything is as black and white as I may have presented and that personal bias is bound to be involved.  Other points of contention also need to be addressed including the appropriateness of the Afikomen as the bread of the Lord’s Supper . . .but that will have to wait for a post yet future : )  

 

[1] D. Thomas Lancaster, Non Jews and Passover (An excerpt from First Fruits of Zion’s Torah Club Volume 5), as found at:  http://www.bethimmanuel.org/print/203

A Word to the Weary

According to the Talmud (Pesachim 6a) for 30 days prior to the Passover one should learn and review the laws regarding this feast, until they know them well.  The festival of Purim is the 30 day mark prior to Passover and once the sun has set on that most joyous time thoughts are to turn to Pesach ahead.  With this in mind I decided this year to purchase a book on Passover observance, significance and laws published by Artscroll to read and contemplate during this 30 day time.

One section of the introductory comments is entitled “A Word to the Weary”.  Because preparations for Pesach are so extensive, especially regarding the cleaning involved in making one’s home free from chametz (leaven), the temptation is to find oneself exhausted in celebrating the actual Seder and/or filled with dread regarding the Passover season as it approaches.  In order to alleviate these negative thoughts and temptations the words of R’Tzvi Hirsch Feldman are cited;

“When one demonstrates that a myriad of physical factors cannot prevent him from fulfilling the will of our Father in Heaven – that one can become elevated spiritually in the most profound way” (Pesach-It’s Observance, Laws and Significance, 1995, Mesorah Publications, New York, p. 36)

 As I read this section I couldn’t help but think that I must be an unusual person in this regard for “spring cleaning” and making my home ready for Pesach and free from chametz is not an exhausting chore for me.  The reason is that I am a perpetual “neetnik” who is very particular about keeping the house very neat and clean throughout the year.  So, when Pesach is in sight I basically do a “once over” through every room without any heroic or exhaustive efforts being involved (although I will admit that the details of cleaning and preparing the kitchen do present something of a challenge even for a “neetnik” like me).  

With the entire upper level of the house cleaned and ready my efforts turned to my first floor office yesterday.  As I began to go through one of the file draws in my desk, I found some typed notes regarding Chag HaMatzot (feast of Unleavened Bread) and Sefirat HaOmer (counting of the Omer) from about 3 years ago.  As I paged through these notes I found an elaborate table detailing the Last Supper as occurring on Wednesday evening and the crucifixion on Thursday in order to reconcile the words of Matthew 12:40 in which Yeshua relates the prophet Jonah’s stay in the whale’s belly to his own death and resurrection being in the heart of the earth “three days and three nights”.   

After looking through these notes, I threw them in the trash for they represent thinking and understanding that I no longer agree with due to further study.  Suddenly a familiar feeling of weariness came over me, weariness not of body, but of mind.  As I have taken on Torah observance over the past 4 ½ years I have found little to be as wearying as the uncertainties and continual debates regarding the Last Supper and its connection to Passover as found in the pages of the Apostolic Writings (particularly the Gospels).

After much reading and research and conversation with others I currently find myself tending toward the opinion that the Last Supper was not the actual Passover Seder but was a meal held the evening prior (evening of Nisan 14), in which the elements of the Seder (unleavened bread and wine) were given deeper meaning and symbolism based on Yeshua’s death and resurrection.  Yeshua was then crucified on Nisan 14 and died during the time the Korban Pesach was being slaughtered and offered at the Temple. I also have come to the opinion that the day of the crucifixion was Friday and the resurrection occurred most likely on Saturday evening (which by Jewish/Biblical reckoning would be the first day of the week). 

But one detail I have not yet settled or reconciled in considering Pesach 5769 is the timing of Sefirat HaOmer (the start of the counting of the Omer).  This detail has perhaps been the most wearying to me because anyone who looks honestly and plainly at the details of scripture regarding this recognizes that the current and popular way of reckoning it to begin on Nisan 16 (based on the Pharisaic/Rabbinic understanding) is not in accordance with the literal instructions of Torah according to the p’shat understanding.

Although numerous Messianics will point to the writings of Josephus and Philo, the wording of the Septuagint, and the eight day festival contained in the Megillah Ta’anit as proof that the Pharisaic understanding was the norm in the first century (and at the time of Yeshua), this still does not alleviate the difficulty that the Nisan 16 reckoning cannot be reconciled with the literal instructions of scripture which clearly state that the Omer count is to start on the “morrow after the Sabbath” (on the Sunday after the Sabbath following Pesach, Leviticus 23:11) and that Shavuot is to be celebrated on the “morrow after the seventh Sabbath” (on Sunday 7 weeks, or 50 days later, Leviticus 23:16).  According to the p’shat (literal reading) the Omer count (first day of Sefirat HaOmer) should always commence on Sunday and Shavuot should always be celebrated on Sunday (which is the reckoning accepted by the Boethusians/Sadduccees and Karaites).

The popular explanation among the rabbinic commentators regarding the Nisan 16 reckoning involves Israel’s permission or authority to set and regulate the calendar and fix the dates of the Moedim based on Leviticus 23:2 which states that the feasts of the L-RD shall be “proclaimed” by the Children of Israel. From this the sages derive the halachah of adding a month to the calendar at certain intervals of years in order that Pesach will occur in the spring.  The Moedim in this way are seen as a joint effort between Israel and HaShem. Yet, even Judah HaLevi in his classic work “The Kuzari” admits that the “plain meaning” of “the morrow of the Sabbath” conforms to the Karaite or literal interpretation of the “Sunday following Passover” (The Kuzari, 2000, Kalman Steinberg, Israel p. 149). 

In all the reading I have done about this I have yet to see a clear explanation as to why the literal rendering of scripture was not adopted in the rabbinic understanding of this festival, especially considering the general “rule of thumb” in Jewish Bible translation and Halachah that understandings or rulings which deviate from or nullify the p’shat are not to be considered credible. As I have faced this nagging issue I have found myself over the past years justifying the popular rendering of the Omer as Nisan 16 for the sake of community, and in order to identify with/support greater Israel.  

In taking on Torah observance I have basically separated myself from family and friends and faced inevitable isolation.  The community I currently attend is a small group of approximately 10 people with whom I find a like-minded outlook.  To separate myself from the few who are like-minded in order to keep a literal rendering of the Omer would place me completely alone in this endeavor.  Yet the question continues to plague me; “what is more important. . . community, fellowship, identification . . . or obedience to G-d’s stated commands?”

Perhaps the answer might lie in understanding a historical perspective. If it could be proven that the Pharisees controlled the calendar in Yeshua’s day, and the Holy Spirit descended upon the disciples on the Shavuot of Acts 2 according to the Nisan 16 reckoning, then the Pharisaic view could be upheld.  With this in mind I found myself reading through a couple of very dry and scholarly historical books in the late fall and early winter which only added to the weariness and uncertainty I already felt about this.   

As I sat on the floor of my office, with the crumpled set of old notes in my hands ready to throw away in the trash can sitting next to me, I realized that despite the reading and studying and contemplating, I still was mentally weary and unsure regarding the Omer this year.  And then it dawned on me.  If Yeshua was crucified on Friday, Nisan 14 and rose from the dead on Saturday evening or toward morning on Sunday Nisan 16, as is the traditional understanding, then both the Sadducean and Pharisaic reckoning of the Omer would have been satisfied on the day of his resurrection. For on the year Yeshua was crucified Nisan 16 was the Sunday after the Sabbath of Pesach.  Shavuot and the giving of the Holy Spirit in Acts 2 would also have been on a Sunday as calculated 7 weeks or 50 days later.

Therefore, although the Pharisaic reckoning of the Omer does not celebrate or remember the day of the resurrection (as the 1^st day of the week or Sunday) it does, in its fixed calendar date of Nisan 16, memorialize or remember the actual date of the resurrection, and the actual date of the giving of the Holy Spirit on Shavuot 50 days later.  By following the popular/Pharisaic-Rabbinic reckoning of the Omer as Nisan 16, the likely date of Yeshua’s resurrection is celebrated every year, even though the day varies.  By following the Sadducean/Boenthusian reckoning or what is considered a more Biblically literal counting of the Omer the day of the resurrection (Sunday) is memorialized while the actual date varies.

So the question is; what is more important for a Messianic believer in keeping the start of the Omer count?  It is more important to memorialize the day of the resurrection or the date of the resurrection?  Typically in Biblical terms, memorials are based on “dates”, not “days”.  Consider the Exodus from Egypt which took place on Nisan 15.  The scripture is unconcerned with the day of the week this occurred, but instead memorializes the date it occurred.  

One might argue that Sefirat HaOmer in Torah is an agricultural feast that is not connected with a specific calendar date and that its original purpose was to mark the beginning of the barley harvest and not to memorialize any certain date or event.  Yet, in the Apostolic Writings Yeshua’s resurrection from the dead and the giving of the Holy Spirit at Shavuot are both likened to “firstfruits” (cf. 1 Corinthians 15:20,23, Romans 8:23), giving a strong allusion to deeper spiritual meaning, especially if the Saturday evening/Sunday morning resurrection occurred on Nisan 16.  

Suddenly the mental weariness began to lift as I thought about these things; the simple, yet ironic, possibility that Yeshua’s resurrection satisfied opposing understandings of two factions in Judaism regarding the start of the Omer count. In keeping the tradition of greater Judaism and beginning the Omer count on Nisan 16, the Messianic believer yearly memorializes the actual date of the resurrection and the actual date of the giving of the Holy Spirit on Shavuot. Perhaps this was G-d’s grander scheme all along?

A Fond Farewell . . .

“May it be your will Adonai our G-d and the G-d of our forefathers that just as I have stood up and fulfilled the mitzvah of dwelling in the sukkah, so may I merit next year to dwell in the sukkah.”

 ”Next year in Jerusalem!”

On the still and mild evening of erev Shemini Atzeret, I said this bracha while standing in the sukkah belonging to the couple who lead the Torah community I attend.  After finishing the blessing, the tiny group of four of us who were able to meet together for prayer on this special night, ventured outside to view the stars and then returned to the sukkah for a snack of pumpkin cheesecake and tea. Upon returning home, I entered the darkness of my own sukkah and repeated this prayer to bid farewell to the temporary abode that had been the scene of much joy and reflection over the past seven days.  Though I had hoped to abide in the sukkah one additional day, on Shemini Atzeret itself, the weather changed drastically making the sukkah uninhabitable on that day.  Perhaps this was HaShem’s way of bringing me back to the reality of daily existence.  My 14 day vacation was ending, the holy days were passed, and I would be returning to work.  Even though the sukkah would remain standing for the remainder of the week (until my two sukkah carpenters could disassemble it for me), I would not enter it again.

Today the sukkah was taken down and though I was able to be of assistance in removing decorations and such, the time came for me to get out of the way and let the men do their work.  As I sat at the desk in my office, trying to stay occupied with other things, yet available to assist as needed, I watched from the windows overlooking my backyard as the sukkah came down, piece by piece, board by board.  As my two willing volunteers walked past the window with boards, screening and rolls of plastic in tow, I couldn’t help but think about the sanctity of such a task, especially in light of the scripture I had just completed studying this past week, in which Moses begins the duty of assigning the Levites to their various tasks in disassembling and transporting the Tabernacle in the wilderness.

In Numbers 4 the duties of the family of Kohath are given in detail.  Of the three families of Levi, Kohath occupied the most important and holiest role of transporting the aron (Ark of the Covenant) and the items of the Holy Place (menorah, table of showbread, and golden altar of incense). Very detailed instructions are given as to how these most holy items are to be prepared for transport, with one important distinction being that the aron would have an outer covering of techeilet (turquoise wool) while the remainder of the items would have an outer covering of tachash-hide.

Tachash is an interesting subject, for although the Torah employs its hide in the covers of the Tabernacle itself and as protective coverings for the Tabernacle’s components in transit, the identity of the animal from which the hide is produced remains a mystery.  Some English translations assign the tachash to the porpoise, others to the badger, and yet others refer to it simply as “fine leather”.  In this way the mind’s eye conceives of the items of the Tabernacle being covered in a smooth grey water resistant cover, a thick furry covering, or well tanned leather.

However, the Talmud provides the following description of the tachash;

What is our conclusion with respect to the tahash which existed in Moses days? Said R. Elai in the name of R. Simeon b. Lakish, R. Meir used to maintain, The tahash of Moses day was a separate species, and the Sages could not decide whether it belonged to the genus of wild beasts or to the genus of domestic animals; and it had one horn in its forehead, and it came to Moses hand [providentially] just for the occasion, and he made the [covering of the] Tabernacle, and then it was hidden. (Shabbat 28b)

Rashi, commenting on this gemara, identifies the tachash as a multicolored and beautiful animal that existed only for the sole purpose of providing coverings for the Tabernacle and for its vessels in transit, after which it ceased to exist. In this way the tachash hide was understood to be exceedingly beautiful and a stunning covering most fitting the holiness of its purpose.  Therefore, as the tribes of Israel would travel in the wilderness, in their various formations and orders, the holy vessels of the Mishkan would be carried by the men of Kohath marching in the very midst of the Camp of Israel with the ornately covered menorah, table of showbread and gold altar of incense flanking the Ark of the Covenant covered in the techeilet of pure turquoise blue.

R’Moshe Feinstein relates a drash regarding the reason for the aron to be covered outwardly in techeilet and not in tachash, as the other holy items were.  According to the Talmud (Chullin 89a) the blue of techeilet symbolizes faith in G-d for its color directs one’s thoughts toward heaven and the place of G-d’s throne.  The tachash-hide, being unusually beautiful, lends esthetic beauty to the vessels that find their purpose and orientation in the Mishkan as related to the Ark. 

From this a beautiful spiritual lesson is drawn regarding the importance of performing the commandments in ways that lend esthetic beauty to them. For in this way people will find the mitzvot more inviting and appealing. Yet, the performance of the commandments must be rooted and centered in faith in their Giver and His Torah, with one’s heart being directed toward heaven and G-d’s glory. 

Yet, amid the holiness and majesty of the Kohathites duties an inherent danger continually loomed. For it was forbidden of the sons of Kohath to gaze upon the uncovered vessels as they were prepared for transport, or to physically touch the Ark as it was carried along, as to do so would incur immediate death by the hand of Heaven. Therefore, it was the duty of the Kohanim (priests) to actually insert the holiest items into their wrappings, after which the Kohathites were summoned to transport them. 

 Because of this, the gravity of the Kohathites duties is summarized at the end of parashah Bamidbar;

Thus shall you do for them so that they shall live and not die: when they approach the Holy of Holies, Aaron and his sons shall come and assign them, every man to his work and his burden.  But they shall not come and look as the holy is inserted, lest they die. (Numbers 4:19-20 Stone Chumash)

Interestingly, the midrash (Bamidbar Rabbah 5) presents two opposing viewpoints regarding the Kohathites attitude toward their duties.  According to one opinion the Kohathites preferred not to carry the Ark out of fear of the danger associated with it.  Therefore, Aaron’s son, Elazar (who oversaw the duties of the Kohathites, Numbers 3:32), took responsibility for appointing the men who would perform this most sacred and awesome of duties.

The opposite view relates that the sons of Kohath were so eager to have the honor of carrying the Ark that at the outset of every journey they would clamor around Elazar and beg to be given the duty of carrying the aron.  In this way the duties of carrying the menorah, table of showbread and golden altar of incense were in jeopardy of being diminished and neglected.  Therefore, HaShem commanded Moses and Aaron to appoint permanent carriers for the Ark.  Through discernment of the Ruach HaKodesh, Moses and Aaron chose the holiest men among the family of Kohath to perform this great duty.  For the holiest men were most suited for the task and less likely to be harmed by the aron’s great holiness.  

 . . . . . . . . . . . . .

As the final pieces of the sukkah were placed in the storage area above the garage, a bit of whimsy entered my thoughts.  If I were a Kohathite among the Children of Israel in the wilderness, would I be eager to have the privilege of carrying the aron or fearful of it?  Would I be one who would zealously clamor to be included in such an awesome duty, or one who would hide in the background and hope not to be called upon to do this?  These thoughts quickly left my mind as I considered the silliness of contemplating something that would never be afforded to me as a woman.

With the work completed, I stepped out onto the deck behind my house to see if any additional clean-up was necessary.  Before me lay the last remnant of the sukkah, a bunch of cornstalks that had composed the s’chach (roof).  My son asked what I wanted to do with the cornstalks.  I felt an unusual hesitation and replied that I would leave them as is “for now”.  Last year I recycled the cornstalks and used them as Fall decoration around my mailbox post, after which they were disposed of in the woods behind my yard. 

But for some reason the thought of recycling the cornstalks didn’t sit well with me this year.  After all, these particular cornstalks had fulfilled a holy purpose, a sanctified duty in providing shade for the sukkah and representing the clouds of HaShem’s glory in that temporary abode.  Ultimately I gathered up the bundle in my arms and made my way through the woods in my backyard.  I marched past the compost pile of grass clippings and hedge trimmings in which I had carelessly thrown my cornstalks last year.  Beyond the woods is 20 acres of open natural field.  As I emerged from the woods the brisk wind of the changing seasons lashed at my face with a bite of coldness despite the blue skies and sunshine above me. 

It was there, at the edge of the field, that I placed the cornstalks, not carelessly or haphazardly but in a spread out arrangement, an orderly fashion.   In a manner in which the animals (raccoon and deer) could easily forage the corn from the dried cobs, or birds could perhaps find nesting material among the crisp golden leaves.  As I walked back to the house I felt a great sense of satisfaction, for even this most simple task could be sanctified in a sense.  Perhaps such actions are nothing more than the delusions of an incurable spiritual romantic.  Yet, this was my personal way of bidding a final and fond farewell to the sukkah and to the most memoriable Fall moedim that I have at present experienced as a Torah observant believer in Yeshua the Mashi’ach.