In the Hebrew year 5786—corresponding to 2026 on the Gregorian calendar—the world appears to be spiraling toward a long-prophesied confrontation. Escalating conflicts in the Middle East, Iran’s nuclear ambitions framed as modern Persia, and public figures like Tucker Carlson and Candace Owens reviving ancient accusations against the Jewish people create an atmosphere of existential tension. Amid this turbulence, one phrase repeatedly surfaces in Christian discourse: “turn the other cheek.”
Frequently invoked as the pinnacle of love, forgiveness, and non-violent resistance, it is presented as a universal moral imperative. It is important to understand what it means to turn the other cheek within this context. Yet for Jews, the phrase carries a very different origin, context, and implication—one rooted in the Jewish Bible rather than the New Testament.
Amid this turbulence, one phrase repeatedly surfaces in Christian discourse: “turn the other cheek.” Frequently invoked as the pinnacle of love, forgiveness, and non-violent resistance, it is presented as a universal moral imperative. Yet for Jews, the phrase carries a very different origin, context, and implication—one rooted in the Jewish Bible rather than the New Testament.
The expression draws directly from Lamentations 3:30: “Let him offer his cheek to the one who strikes him; let him be filled with reproach.”¹ This verse appears in the Book of Lamentations, traditionally attributed to the prophet Jeremiah, and is recited during Tisha B’Av services commemorating the destruction of the First and Second Temples.
Far from advocating perpetual passivity, the passage expresses profound grief and self-accountability in the wake of Jerusalem’s fall to Babylon in 586 BCE. Jeremiah portrays the calamity not as the triumph of Babylonian might or blind hatred, but as divine chastisement for Israel’s disobedience to Hashem’s covenant.
The call to “offer the cheek” is an act of humble acceptance: acknowledge the punishment, endure it, repent, and ultimately return stronger. It is grief with purpose—consequence from Hashem’s hand when the people stray, not random evil inflicted by human foes alone.
The Rabbi Was Wrong
Jesus alludes to a parallel concept in the Sermon on the Mount: “But I say to you, Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also” (Matthew 5:39).² Christian tradition has interpreted this as a radical ethic of enemy-love, non-retaliation, and submission to unjust authority. Over two millennia, this teaching has shaped entire civilizations—often beautifully in acts of charity and forgiveness, but also problematically.
The phrase “render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s” (Matthew 22:21) has at times been extended to mean unquestioning obedience to secular power, allowing governments to co-opt religious communities into tools of control. In its most extreme theological form, Christianity’s doctrine of original sin teaches that humanity is born inherently corrupt and evil, redeemable solely through faith in Jesus’ atoning death.
Good deeds alone are insufficient; without belief in the savior, even the most virtuous life leads to damnation. Generations raised on this framework have internalized deep guilt, shame, and fear—psychological burdens that have contributed to societal patterns of anxiety, division, and externalized blame.
There is no Meteator Job 9:33
Judaism stands in direct contrast. Jewish education begins with the affirmation that every human being is created b’tzelem Elohim—in the image of God (Genesis 1:27).³ Rabbi Efraim Palvanov and others draw an analogy to the atom: 99% positive energy (goodness, divine spark), with only 1% negative inclination (yetzer hara) serving as a test and motivator for growth.⁴ Children are taught that every soul carries unique goodness, every nation has a distinct purpose in Hashem’s plan, and no one is born damned.
Redemption comes through teshuvah (repentance), righteous action, and wrestling with God—not through vicarious atonement or belief in a divine intermediary. This foundational optimism fosters critical thinking, debate, and direct confrontation with the divine: Abraham argues over Sodom (Genesis 18), Jacob wrestles the angel (Genesis 32), Moses challenges Hashem at the burning bush and beyond.
Israel’s Repentances Israel’s Redemption
These theological divergences become stark in eschatological contexts. Ezekiel 37 depicts the valley of dry bones coming to life—a metaphor for the Jewish people’s physical and spiritual return from exile.⁵ Chapters 38–39 introduce Gog and Magog: a coalition led by Persia (modern Iran), invading Israel.
The attack arises not from inherent hatred, but from Israel’s incomplete repentance; Hashem deploys nations as instruments of awakening (Isaiah 59:20).⁶ There is no pre-tribulation rapture removing believers, nor an Antichrist deceiving Jews into building a false temple (a common misreading of Daniel 9). Instead, judgment falls, followed by redemption and gathering.
This prophetic rhythm resonates in Kabbalat Shabbat liturgy. Each Friday evening, Jews welcome the Sabbath by singing Psalms 95 through 99 in sequence: a crescendo of divine kingship, judgment on nations, trembling earth, fire preceding Hashem, and rejoicing in Zion.⁷
Psalm 97 commands: “You who love Hashem, hate evil” (v. 10)—an active stance against injustice, not meek endurance. Psalm 29 describes thunder shattering the cedars of Lebanon—symbolizing proud empires (today’s Iran and its allies) —crumbling before divine power.⁸ Jews are positioned as witnesses and testifiers, not passive recipients.
The Messiah Is Riding A Donkey
Zechariah 9:9 further illuminates the divide: “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! … Behold, your king comes to you; righteous and having salvation is he, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”⁹
Christians traditionally link this to Jesus’ triumphal entry on Palm Sunday. Rabbi Efraim Palvanov, however, emphasizes the chapter’s context: judgments on Damascus (reduced to a “ruinous heap” per Isaiah 17:1), Gaza, and Tyre precede the king’s arrival.
The “donkey” is not mere humility; it evokes Ishmael, described in Genesis 16:12 as “a wild donkey of a man; his hand against everyone.”¹⁰ In this reading, Islam—the spiritual heir of Ishmael—represents the untamed, rampaging force. The Messiah subdues this “wild donkey” after the conflagration, entering in victory. Not a past event of meek salvation, but a future triumph following war.
Christian eschatology frequently envisions a rapture removing the faithful, followed by surviving Jews “looking upon the one they have pierced” (Zechariah 12:10) and converting en masse—effectively ending Judaism.¹¹ This is classic replacement (supersessionist) theology: the Church as the “new Israel.”
Submissions Only
Islam, meanwhile, demands submission (the root meaning of “Islam”) or death for non-believers. Both paths ultimately seek the erasure of Jewish distinctiveness—Christianity through theological absorption, Islam through conquest or conversion.
As a descendant of a Cohen and chazan (cantor) for my synagogue since 2001, I have repeatedly entered pastors’ offices to ask why such teachings persist. The overwhelming majority cannot cite chapter and verse; they know inspirational themes but falter on difficult passages like 1 Thessalonians 2:14–15, where Paul accuses “the Jews” of killing Jesus and the prophets and being “contrary to all men.”¹²
Candace Owens, in her widely circulated interview with Tucker Carlson, labeled Israel a “demonic nation” filled with “gremlins and goblins”—a modern echo of ancient tropes.¹³ Yet many Christian homes display Israeli flags alongside American ones, even as Bibles remain unread.
Judaism = Responsibility
“Chosen people” status is not superiority but responsibility. Deuteronomy 7:7–8 clarifies: “It was not because you were more numerous than any other people that Hashem set His love on you … but it is because Hashem loves you and is keeping the oath that He swore to your fathers.”¹⁴ Jews are tasked to preserve Torah, question authority (divine and human), and testify to monotheism.
The Maccabees fought not only Greeks but Hellenized Jews who sought assimilation—shaving beards, abandoning mitzvot, embracing foreign culture. Today, similar pressures exist: some Jews pursue Christianity, believing “Jesus fixed it all.” I actively counter this narrative, as my forefathers did.
Glen Beck Knows
Glenn Beck grasps the urgency: Israel faces an “existential deadline” with Iran; “delay is the most dangerous choice.”¹⁵ Yet he frames the response through a Christian lens—Hashem using figures like Trump as proxies. Judaism requires no intermediaries; we act because preserving life is holy, and survival demands confronting evil head-on.
In the unfolding Gog-Magog scenario, the question is not Islam versus Christianity—who prevails? It is Torah truth versus replacement ideologies.
Genetic studies, such as those in Nathaniel Jeanson’s Traced, trace male Y-chromosome lineages to three primary founders (corresponding to Adam, Noah, and Shem), with Jewish lines enduring unbroken.¹⁶ Archaeology affirms Jewish presence in Jerusalem from King David’s era. Recent signs—the Star of Jacob comet in September 2024, the October 7, 2023 (Simchat Torah) massacre—align with prophetic patterns.
“Turn the other cheek” may apply to personal slights or insults, fostering humility and peace. But when faced with genocidal threats—rockets, vows of annihilation, or theological programs to erase Jewish identity—it becomes suicidal passivity. Lamentations teaches accountability amid exile: accept divine consequence, repent, and rebuild. Judaism commands: hate evil (Psalm 97), wrestle with Hashem, claim the covenantal land, and stand firm.
To my neighbor Jody—whose home flies both American and Israeli flags, yet whose Bible has gathered dust—read Ezekiel. Witness God thundering through history, not whispering platitudes. See the Jewish people not as victims or obsolete, but as enduring witnesses.
The world insists “no chosen people, no promised land.” But if the Tanakh is true, we are real, the land is real, and the battle is real. Redemption arrives when we fully return to Hashem—not through submission or replacement, but through teshuvah and fidelity to Torah.
Footnotes ¹ Lamentations 3:30 (ESV). ² Matthew 5:39 (ESV). ³ Genesis 1:27 (JPS Tanakh). ⁴ Based on teachings by Rabbi Efraim Palvanov and similar Jewish mystical/educational sources. ⁵ Ezekiel 37:1–14. ⁶ Isaiah 59:20; Ezekiel 38–39. ⁷ Psalms 95–99 (standard Kabbalat Shabbat order in Ashkenazi and many Sephardi traditions). ⁸ Psalm 29:5–9 (cedars as metaphor for empires). ⁹ Zechariah 9:9 (ESV). ¹⁰ Genesis 16:12 (ESV). ¹¹ Zechariah 12:10. ¹² 1 Thessalonians 2:14–15 (various translations). ¹³ Candace Owens, interview with Tucker Carlson, August 2025 (widely reported clips). ¹⁴ Deuteronomy 7:7–8 (ESV adapted). ¹⁵ Glenn Beck commentary, March 2026 video on Parsha Inspired channel. ¹⁶ Nathaniel Jeanson, Traced: Human DNA’s Big Surprise (Answers in Genesis, 2022).
Hazan Gavriel ben David