The Stone the Builders Rejected”.

One of the verses many people use is ” The Stone the Builder Rejected”. Well, I want to discuss the idea of a foundation. It is the most important part of building a house. The Third Temple. If you get the foundation wrong, then the rest of the structure will be wrong. I would like to point to the proof that what you have rejected is “That Which You Have Not Heard” as a Christian or Messianic,

Many Christians, often turn to the Old Testament—what you call the Hebrew Bible or Tanakh—for insights into God’s nature and His plan for humanity. This week’s Torah portion, Re’eh (“Behold”), found in Deuteronomy 11:26–16:17, offers a profound moment of choice: “Behold, I set before you today a blessing and a curse—the blessing if you obey the commandments of the Lord your God… and the curse if you do not obey… but turn away from the way… to follow other gods which you have not known” (Deut. 11:26–28). This passage, delivered by Moses to the Israelites on the cusp of entering the Promised Land, emphasizes fidelity to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. It warns emphatically against idolatry and the adoption of foreign religious practices, including those that introduce new deities or modes of worship unknown to our shared forefathers. In this essay, written for a Christian audience, I aim to explore how Re’eh serves as a divine safeguard against religions like Christianity, which, from a Jewish perspective, diverges from the pure monotheism of the Torah. By contrasting the oral traditions of Judaism and Christianity, examining Christian claims about Jesus as a fulfillment of the Binding of Isaac, and tracing the non-Jewish origins of vicarious atonement, we can see why the Torah precludes belief in “that which you have not known.”

Ask Your Fathers and They Will Tell You.

The Core Warning in Re’eh: No Room for New Gods

At the heart of Re’eh is Deuteronomy 13, a chapter that outlines safeguards against false prophets, dreamers, or even close family members who might entice the people to worship “other gods which you have not known” (Deut. 13:2). Even if such a figure performs signs or wonders that come true, the Torah commands: “You shall not listen to the words of that prophet… for the Lord your God is testing you to know whether you love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul” (Deut. 13:3–4). This is not merely a prohibition against pagan idols like those of the Canaanites; it’s a broader admonition against any innovation that alters the worship of the one, eternal God revealed at Sinai.

From a Jewish viewpoint, this directly applies to Christianity. Jesus, as portrayed in the New Testament, is elevated to a divine status—part of a Trinity or as the “Son of God”—a concept utterly foreign to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The Torah’s God is singular and indivisible, as affirmed in the Shema (Deut. 6:4), and any suggestion of a divine intermediary or incarnation would qualify as “other gods” unknown to the forefathers. Deuteronomy 13 warns that such teachings, even if accompanied by miracles (like those attributed to Jesus), are a test of loyalty. Jews see this as a prophetic barrier against missionary efforts, where Christianity transforms the character of a historical figure into a god-like being, precisely what the Torah forbids. This isn’t about rejecting Jesus as a teacher but recognizing that his deification introduces a worship system alien to the covenant at Sinai.

Series: Part II

Contrasting Oral Traditions: From Sinai vs. From the Apostles

Judaism and Christianity both value oral traditions, but their sources and natures differ profoundly. In Judaism, the Oral Torah (Torah she-be’al peh) is believed to have been given to Moses at Sinai alongside the Written Torah, transmitted faithfully through generations of sages—from Moses to Joshua, to the elders, prophets, and rabbis. This tradition, later compiled in the Mishnah and Talmud, clarifies and expands the Written Torah without altering its core monotheism. It stems directly from the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, ensuring continuity with the forefathers.

Christianity’s oral tradition, however, originates from a different source: the teachings of Jesus and his apostles in the first century CE. Before the Gospels were written (around 70–100 CE), stories of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection circulated orally among early followers. This tradition, as described by scholars, was sustained through community storytelling, hymns, and prayers, evolving to explain Jesus’ role and provide guidance for early churches. Paul, writing in the 50s CE, incorporated snippets of this oral material, such as accounts of the Last Supper and resurrection (1 Cor. 11 and 15), which were passed down before being formalized in writing. Unlike Judaism’s Oral Torah, rooted in Sinai, Christianity’s tradition begins with Jesus—a figure not prophesied in this divine capacity by the Torah—and develops through church fathers like Ignatius and Justin Martyr in the second century. This creates a new narrative arc, diverging from the forefathers’ covenant and introducing concepts like the Trinity, which Re’eh explicitly warns against as “gods you have not known.”

The Non-Jewish Origins of Vicarious Atonement

A cornerstone of Christianity is the belief that Jesus died for humanity’s sins, offering vicarious atonement—where one person’s sacrifice redeems others. This idea, however, has no roots in Jewish tradition and contradicts the Torah’s emphasis on personal responsibility and repentance. In Judaism, atonement comes through teshuvah (repentance), prayer, charity, and animal sacrifices (when the Temple stood), but never through human sacrifice, which is abhorrent (Deut. 18:10). Each person atones for their own sins, as Ezekiel states: “The soul who sins shall die” (Ezek. 18:20).

The concept of someone dying for sins evolved within Christianity, not Judaism. Early theories include the Ransom Theory (3rd century, Origen), where Jesus’ death paid a debt to Satan or God; Christus Victor (dominant pre-12th century), portraying Jesus’ death as victory over evil powers; and Satisfaction Theory (Anselm, 11th century), where it satisfied God’s honor. The Penal Substitution Theory, popularized by Reformers like Calvin, views Jesus’ death as punishment in sinners’ place to appease God’s wrath. These ideas draw loosely from Jewish sacrificial imagery but twist it into a human-centered redemption unknown to the Torah. Jews argue that if vicarious atonement were needed, the Torah would have revealed it at Sinai, not through a later figure.

Moreover, some streams of Judaism, particularly Kabbalah, incorporate gilgul (reincarnation), where souls return to rectify past failings. Originating in post-Talmudic Kabbalah (12th century onward, e.g., Sefer ha-Bahir), gilgul allows for multiple lifetimes to achieve perfection, making a one-time savior unnecessary. While not universal in Judaism, this belief underscores self-reliant soul rectification over external redemption.

Christian Claims About the Binding of Isaac: A Misplaced Typology

Christians often see Jesus as foreshadowed in the Binding of Isaac (Akedah, Gen. 22), where Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice his “only son” parallels God’s sacrifice of Jesus. Typologies highlight similarities: both are “only begotten sons,” carried wood for the sacrifice, and the event occurs on a mountain (Moriah, linked to Calvary). This interprets the Akedah as prefiguring Jesus’ crucifixion for atonement.

Jews rebut this as a retroactive imposition. The Akedah tests Abraham’s faith, not prophesies a messiah; God provides a ram, halting human sacrifice forever. Isaac isn’t killed, so it can’t foreshadow a death for sins. Rabbinic tradition views it as merit for Israel, not a messianic template. Introducing Jesus here adds a foreign layer, violating Re’eh’s warning against innovations.

Conclusion: Heeding the Call to Behold

Re’eh invites us to “behold” the choice before us: fidelity to the God of our forefathers or the allure of foreign traditions. For Jews, Christianity, with its new oral tradition, vicarious atonement, and typological readings, represents “that which you have not known.” As Christians, reflecting on these differences may deepen appreciation for the Torah’s unyielding monotheism. Ultimately, Re’eh calls us back to the pure covenant of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—without additions or intermediaries.

Footnotes:

1. All biblical quotes from the New Jewish Publication Society Tanakh.
2. For deeper Jewish perspectives on Deuteronomy 13 and false prophets, see resources from Jews for Judaism.
3. On gilgul, consult kabbalistic texts like those of Isaac Luria.
4. Christian atonement theories are summarized in theological works like those of Gustaf Aulén.
5. ISAIAH 2:2-4
6. 96 web pages

Issac: A Picture of the Future.

רְאֵה

That which You have Not Known?

 Vayera is a Torah portion from the Book of Genesis (Chapters 18:1–22:24) that begins with the Hebrew phrase meaning “and he appeared”.

This parashah is known for exploring themes of faith, hospitality, and divine justice. 

In this series of lectures, we will examine traditions. Traditions of Jews and Christians. How do those traditions influence us in how we look at scriptures?

When I speak with Christians, they tell me what they think the Bible says. So, I ask them where they get that tradition. You see, we all have a tradition that explains what the Bible says.

The strongest supporters of truth are the Christian and Messianic Jewish world, and those who claim to follow the Torah, and who also claim that the Jewish people have missed the coming of their Messiah.

Today, I would like to look at the Holy Torah and see if the traditions of the Christian and Messianic world follow the Torah Law.

How the Commandments Provide a Detailed List of Things Not to Do

Re’eh’s commandments, particularly in Chapters 11–13, outline a detailed prohibitions against idolatry, framing it as straying from the “known” path of the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. These aren’t vague warnings but specific directives to avoid corruption by foreign influences:

• Do not follow unknown gods or practices: Explicitly, avoid “other gods which you have not known” (Deut. 11:28; 13:2), even if enticed by miracles, prophets, or family—treat such as tests of loyalty (Deut. 13:3–4).
• Do not adopt foreign worship sites or methods: Destroy pagan altars, pillars, and idols in the land; worship only at God’s chosen place (Deut. 12:2–4), not scattering offerings everywhere like the nations.
• Do not eat or handle blood improperly: Spill blood on the ground like water in kosher slaughter (Deut. 12:16, 23–24), avoiding pagan blood rites.
• Do not imitate abominable national practices: Shun “every abomination that the Lord hates” (Deut. 12:31), including burning children as offerings—God despises such acts.
• Do not add or subtract from commandments: Observe exactly what’s commanded, without innovation (Deut. 13:1), ensuring fidelity to the revealed Torah.
• Do not show mercy to idolaters: Even close kin enticing to idolatry must be stoned, without pity (Deut. 13:7–11), to purge evil.
• Do not be swayed by signs or wonders: Ignore prophets whose predictions come true if they lead to unknown gods (Deut. 13:2–6).
• Do not do what is right in your own eyes: Repeatedly, act only as “right and good in the sight of the Lord” (Deut. 12:8, 25, 28), rejecting subjective morality.

These form a comprehensive safeguard, emphasizing relationship-based worship over power-driven or innovative deviations.

How Each of The Torah Themes Disqualifies Jesus

Re’eh, mirrored in the Akedah, highlights God’s hatred of child sacrifice and demand for “known” worship. Applied to Christianity, each disqualifies Jesus as a divine figure or sacrificial redeemer, as his role introduces “unknown” elements foreign to the Torah’s God—elevating a human to godhood, promoting human sacrifice for atonement, and diverging from Abraham’s proven relationship. Here’s how each theme connects:

Do what is yashar (good and straight) in God’s eyes: Re’eh repeats this, contrasting human eyes (subjective morality) with God’s, as Abraham did in the Akedah by trusting known goodness. Christianity claims Jesus fulfills the law but adds “new commandments” (John 13:34), redefining righteousness through faith in him. This disqualifies Jesus by innovating beyond the Torah, doing what’s “right” in Christian eyes but straying from the forefathers’ known path.

Serve God only in the place He chooses (Mount Moriah/Temple): Re’eh mandates centralized worship at God’s selected site, foreshadowed in the Akedah where Abraham obeys at Moriah. Christianity shifts this to Jesus as the “new temple” (John 2:19–21), allowing decentralized faith in him anywhere, bypassing the Torah’s chosen place. This disqualifies Jesus by introducing an “unknown” intermediary, straying from the forefathers’ site-specific covenant.

God’s Name should be on that place: In the Akedah, Abraham names the site “Hashem yireh,” affirming God’s singular presence. Re’eh echoes this for the Temple. Christianity attributes divine names/titles to Jesus (e.g., “Emmanuel,” “Son of God”), placing God’s “name” on a human figure unknown to Abraham. This disqualifies Jesus as idolatry, equating a man with God’s essence in a way the Torah rejects.

Serve Him by offering sacrifices (burnt offerings/olos): The Akedah features an olah, but God substitutes the ram, rejecting human offering. Re’eh specifies animal burnt offerings at the Temple. Christianity portrays Jesus as the ultimate human burnt offering (Hebrews 10:10), dying once for all sins. This disqualifies him, as Re’eh deems human sacrifice abominable—God hates it, never intending it even in the test.

It’s okay to eat animals like a ram (ayil) or deer (tzvi): Re’eh permits eating such clean animals post-slaughter, with the ram in the Akedah symbolizing acceptable substitution. Christianity’s Eucharist symbolically “eats” Jesus’ body/blood (John 6:53–56), turning a human into consumable sacrifice. This disqualifies Jesus by mimicking pagan rites, inverting the Torah’s ram-as-substitute into forbidden human symbolism.

Spilling of blood (as in kosher slaughter): Re’eh requires blood spilled on the ground, not consumed, echoing the Akedah’s averted human bloodshed. Christianity centers on Jesus’ blood spilled for forgiveness (Matthew 26:28), elevating human blood as redemptive. This disqualifies him, as the Torah prohibits blood manipulation in worship and abhors human spilling for atonement—personal repentance suffices.

Not doing abominable things like sacrificing children: Re’eh explicitly hates child sacrifice, clarifying the Akedah as a non-literal test. Christianity depicts God sacrificing His “only begotten Son” (John 3:16) for humanity’s sins, a divine child offering. This directly disqualifies Jesus, portraying God as endorsing what He abhors—an “unknown” immoral act, unproven in Abraham’s relationship.

The Book of Genesis, or Sefer Bereishit, as a profound blueprint and cause of Jewish history. Drawing from traditional Jewish sources—ranging from the Talmud and Midrash to the mystical insights of the Zohar and the Vilna Gaon—we will uncover how Genesis is not merely a collection of ancient stories but a divine framework that shapes reality, time, and the Jewish people’s destiny. At the heart of our lecture today lies an extraordinary axis: the year 1948 in the Jewish calendar (Anno Mundi, or AM), marking Abraham’s birth, and the year 5708 AM, corresponding to 1948 CE, when the modern State of Israel was reestablished. These two points, separated by millennia yet united by the number 1948, serve as pivotal anchors, illustrating how Genesis encodes the past, present, and future of the Jewish narrative.
To deliver this in about 30 minutes, I’ll structure our journey as follows: First, we’ll examine Genesis as the cosmic blueprint, rooted in its opening word Bereishit and the six alefs of its first verse. Then, we’ll delve into how Torah verses correspond to historical years, with 1948 AM and 5708 AM as our axis. Along the way, we’ll touch on the Vilna Gaon’s teaching that Bereishit contains all 613 commandments, including circumcision, and contrast this with the rejection of Ephraim to highlight the triumph of Judah’s lineage. Finally, we’ll conclude with how these elements affirm Genesis as the cause of history, resonating even with personal stories like my own discovery of Jewish heritage at age 33, as a descendant of Kohanim from the Diaz Ramirez family.
Let us begin at the beginning—Bereishit bara Elohim et hashamayim ve’et ha’aretz: “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.” From a Jewish perspective, this is no poetic myth but a historical declaration. The Jewish Encyclopedia describes Genesis as “a historical work,” recounting the primal history of humanity and the early story of Israel. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, in his writings, calls it a “philosophy of the human condition under God’s sovereignty,” where events like creation, the Flood, and the patriarchal covenants are factual records that set the moral and spiritual stage for all that follows.
Yet, Genesis is more than a chronicle; it is the blueprint of reality itself. Kabbalistic tradition, as articulated in the Zohar, teaches that God looked into the Torah to create the world. The Torah pre-exists creation, and its letters are the building blocks of existence. The Sefer Yetzirah, an ancient mystical text, explains that God formed the universe with 22 foundation letters and 10 sefirot, divine emanations. In Genesis 1:1, we find six instances of the letter alef (א)—in Bereishit, bara, Elohim, et, ve’et, and ha’aretz. The alef, the first letter of the Hebrew alphabet, symbolizes divine unity and has a gematria value of 1, but its full spelling (alef) means “thousand.” Thus, these six alefs represent 6,000 years of human history, as per the Talmud in Sanhedrin 97a: “The world endures for six thousand years: two thousand years of chaos (tohu), two thousand years of Torah, and two thousand years of the Messianic era.”
This 6,000-year cycle mirrors the six days of creation, with the seventh day of Shabbat foreshadowing eternal rest and redemption. Chabad teachings elaborate that the alef bridges heaven and earth—its form resembling a yud above (divine), a yud below (earthly), connected by a vav (channel). In Genesis, these alefs encode the timeline: the first 2,000 years encompass the chaos from Adam to Abraham, the next 2,000 bring the Torah at Sinai, and the final 2,000 herald the Messiah. We stand today in the sixth millennium, nearing that redemptive threshold, where events like Israel’s rebirth in 5708 AM signal the dawn of Messianic times.
Now, let’s zoom in on the opening word itself: Bereishit. The Vilna Gaon, Rabbi Elijah of Vilna, teaches that this single word contains all 613 commandments of the Torah. In his commentary Aderet Eliyahu, he explains that Bereishit’s six letters (ב-ר-א-ש-י-ת) encapsulate the essence of Jewish law, with each letter or combination hinting at specific mitzvot. For instance, Rabbi Akiva Tatz, in his lecture “Torah: Cause and Reality,” cites the Gaon to highlight how the commandment of circumcision (brit milah) is embedded in Bereishit. The letters bet (ב) and resh (ר) form the root of brit (covenant), directly alluding to Genesis 17:10, where God commands Abraham: “Every male among you shall be circumcised.” This mitzvah is the seal of the covenant, transforming physical creation into spiritual purpose.
Other commandments flow from Bereishit’s letters as well. The bet symbolizes belief in God (Mitzvah #1), the foundation of monotheism declared in creation. Resh hints at Shabbat observance (Mitzvah #155), resting as God did after six days. Shin evokes the prohibition against idolatry (Mitzvah #2), affirming God’s unique sovereignty. Tav, the final letter, points to establishing courts of justice (Mitzvah #176), ensuring righteousness in the land. The Zohar in Bereishit 8a reinforces this: “Bereishit contains all the commandments, for each letter unfolds a moment in time, from creation to redemption.” Midrash Tanchuma on Bereishit 1 adds: “The world was created for the Torah and the covenant of Israel, hidden in Bereishit.” Thus, Genesis is the cause of history—the Torah’s laws embedded in its first word drive the narrative forward, from creation’s blueprint to humanity’s moral journey.
This brings us to the axis of our lecture: 1948 AM and 5708 AM. In traditional chronology, as detailed in Seder Olam Rabbah, Abraham’s birth occurs in 1948 AM, approximately 1813 BCE. This marks the pivot from chaos to the Torah era, as Abraham’s covenant initiates the Jewish people’s mission. Mystically, each Torah verse corresponds to a year, per the Vilna Gaon: the 1,948th verse is Exodus 14:13, where Moses declares, “Fear not, stand firm, and see the salvation of the Lord, which He will work for you today; for the Egyptians whom you have seen today, you shall never see again.” This verse depicts the splitting of the Red Sea, a miraculous redemption fulfilling God’s promise to Abraham in Genesis 15:13–14: slavery followed by liberation. Midrash Shemot Rabbah 21:5 links it directly: “For the merit of Abraham, I will split the sea.” Thus, 1948 AM—Abraham’s birth—aligns with a verse of national birth, the Exodus as the first step toward the Promised Land.
Fast-forward to 5708 AM, or 1948 CE, when the State of Israel was reestablished after 2,000 years of exile. This modern miracle echoes Abraham’s covenant, fulfilling promises like Deuteronomy 30:3–5: “God will restore you to the land.” The corresponding 5,708th Torah verse is Deuteronomy 16:18: “You shall appoint judges and officers in all your gates, which the Lord your God gives you, according to your tribes, and they shall judge the people with righteous judgment.” Ramban comments: “This ensures righteous governance in the land, the foundation of dwelling securely.” In 1948 CE, amid the ashes of the Holocaust, Israel declared independence, establishing a just society in the ancestral homeland—a direct echo of Abraham’s legacy.
The numerical parallel—1948 AM to 5708 AM—is no coincidence in Jewish thought. It reflects divine synchronicity, where history cycles through the 6,000-year timeline encoded in the six alefs. Abraham’s birth in the second millennium initiates the Torah era; Israel’s rebirth in the sixth heralds Messianic fulfillment. As Rabbi Tatz notes, the Torah is the cause of reality—events unfold from its blueprint.
To contrast this redemptive arc, consider the rejection of Ephraim, a theme woven into Genesis’s tribal history. In Genesis 48–49, Jacob blesses Ephraim above Manasseh, yet later scriptures reveal Ephraim’s fall. Psalm 78:67 states: “He rejected the tent of Joseph; he did not choose the tribe of Ephraim, but he chose the tribe of Judah, Mount Zion, which he loved.” Rashi explains this as the transfer of kingship to David after the Northern Kingdom’s idolatry. Hosea 4:17 laments: “Ephraim is joined to idols; let him alone.” Seven verses in total point to this rejection, including Hosea 5:9 (“Ephraim shall become a desolation”) and Jeremiah 7:15 (“I will cast out… the offspring of Ephraim”). Ephraim’s sins—idolatry and division—contrast with Judah’s fidelity, leading to the Southern Kingdom’s survival and eventual restoration in 1948 CE. This shift, foreshadowed in Genesis 49:10 (“The scepter shall not depart from Judah”), underscores Genesis as history’s cause: tribal choices ripple through time, culminating in Judah’s triumph.
On a personal note, as someone who discovered my Jewish heritage at 33, from a Crypto-Jewish family—the Diaz Ramirez line, descendants of Levi with my grandfather a Kohen—this axis resonates deeply. My uncles’ DNA confirmed our Kohen marker, tracing back through Mexico and Germany, possibly linking to ancient priests like those in Abraham’s era. Circumcision, encoded in Bereishit, symbolizes this covenantal continuity, much like Israel’s rebirth in 1948 CE.
In conclusion, Genesis is the blueprint and cause of Jewish history—a divine text where letters like the six alefs map 6,000 years, words like Bereishit encode 613 commandments, and verses align with pivotal years. The axis of 1948 AM and 5708 AM binds Abraham’s covenant to Israel’s modern miracle, transforming exile into redemption. As the Zohar teaches, “God looked into the Torah and created the world.” May we continue to study this blueprint, finding our place in its eternal narrative. Thank you for your attention—questions are welcome.

As I finish the fast of the 9th of Av. I think of the heartache of our ancestors. I also think of the heartache of today. We live another year without the Temple in our midst—another year with suffering and war and brokenness everywhere.

These I will bring to my holy mountain,
and make them joyful in my house of prayer;
their burnt offerings and their sacrifices
will be accepted on my altar;
for my house shall be called a house of prayer
for all peoples.”

The reason I believe that the story of Hezekiah is the answer to our problem today. As a Jew, I feel it is time to tell the world about the Torah. We should also claim our land, the land of Israel. Additionally, the House of Hashem has to be built.

How Israel Can Transform Global ISOLATION Into HONOR and PRAISE – Tisha B’Av Message

The Torah is unequivocal: Hashem is not a physical being and cannot be represented as such. Deuteronomy 4:15-16, which is cited, is part of the revelation at Horeb (Sinai), where the Israelites heard Hashem’s voice but saw no form, reinforcing His non-physical nature. Numbers 23:19 further states, “God is not a man, that He should lie, nor a son of man, that He should change His mind.” The Second Commandment (Exodus 20:4-5) prohibits making or worshiping any image, including human forms, as divine. For Jews, this is a foundational “known”—Hashem’s nature is immutable, non-corporeal, and beyond human embodiment.

Deuteronomy 4

You shall not add to the word that I command you, nor take from it, that you may keep the commandments of the Lord your God that I command you.“Only take care, and keep your soul diligently, lest you forget the things that your eyes have seen, and lest they depart from your heart all the days of your life. Make them known to your children and your children’s children—how on the day that you stood before the Lord your God at Horeb, the Lord said to me, ‘Gather the people to me, that I may let them hear my words, so that they may learn to fear me all the days that they live on the earth, and that they may teach their children so.’Then the Lord spoke to you out of the midst of the fire. You heard the sound of words, but saw no form; there was only a voice. “Therefore watch yourselves very carefully. Since you saw no form on the day that the Lord spoke to you at Horeb out of the midst of the fire, 16beware lest you act corruptly by making a carved image for yourselves, in the form of any figure, the likeness of male or female,

Christians, however, assert that “God can do anything,” including becoming a man in the form of Jesus (John 1:14, “The Word became flesh”). From a Jewish perspective, this claim contradicts Hashem’s commandments and nature. Rabbi Fohrman teaches an algebraic approach, which likely aims to frame this as a logical contradiction, using a simple equation to show that the Christian belief in Jesus as God cannot hold true given the Torah’s axioms.

Creating a Simple Algebraic Equation

Let’s use algebra to illustrate this point in a way that’s clear for a Christian reader unfamiliar with Jewish theology. We’ll define variables based on the “knowns” from the Torah and the Christian claim, then show the logical inconsistency.

• Define the Variables:
  • Let H H H represent Hashem (God).
  • Let M M M represent a man (a physical, human form).
  • Let J J J represent Jesus, whom Christians claim is both God and man.
• Jewish “Known” (Axiom from the Torah):
  • Deuteronomy 4:15-16 and Numbers 23:19 establish that Hashem cannot be a man. In algebraic terms, this is a fundamental rule: H≠M H \neq M H=M. Hashem’s nature is non-physical, and He cannot take on a human form or be worshiped as such.
• • Christians assert that Jesus is both God and man (the incarnation). In algebraic terms, this is expressed as J=H J = H J=H (Jesus is God) and J=M J = M J=M (Jesus is a man). Combining these, the Christian belief implies H=M H = M H=M (since if J=H J = H J=H and J=M J = M J=M, then H=M H = M H=M).

The Equation and Contradiction:

• Christian Claim:
  • Christians assert that Jesus is both God and man (the incarnation). In algebraic terms, this is expressed as J=H J = H J=H (Jesus is God) and J=M J = M J=M (Jesus is a man). Combining these, the Christian belief implies H=M H = M H=M (since if J=H J = H J=H and J=M J = M J=M, then H=M H = M H=M).

“Truth Value”:

Start with the Christian claim: J=H J = H J=H and J=M J = M J=M.Substitute: If J=H J = H J=H and J=M J = M J=M, then H=M H = M H=M.But the Torah’s axiom is H≠M H \neq M H=M—Hashem cannot be a man.This creates a contradiction: H=M H = M H=M (Christian claim) cannot be true if H≠M H \neq M H=M (Torah’s commandment).

• In this algebraic setup, the Torah’s commandment is the “known” or axiom: Hashem cannot be a man (H≠M H \neq M H=M). The Christian belief that Jesus is God (J=H J = H J=H) and a man (J=M J = M J=M) leads to the conclusion that H=M H = M H=M, which directly contradicts the Torah’s clear teaching. For Jews, this isn’t about limiting Hashem’s power but honoring His commandments—He forbids us from worshiping Him as a man or through any form (Deuteronomy 4:16). The equation shows that the Christian claim cannot hold true without violating Hashem’s own words, which are eternal and unchanging (Malachi 3:6, “I the Lord do not change”).

Let T T T represent a true statement.The Torah’s known: H≠M H \neq M H=M, so the statement “Hashem is not a man” = T T T (true).The Christian claim: H=M H = M H=M (through Jesus), so the statement “Hashem is a man” = F F F (false, per the Torah).Equation: If H=M H = M H=M, then T=F T = F T=F, which is a contradiction. Therefore, H≠M H \neq M H=M, and Jesus cannot be Hashem.

Dear Christian friend,

You hold your Bible dear, seeing in its pages a straight path: the gospel to the Jew first (Romans 1:16), a Messiah who cannot return until the Jews say, “Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord” (Matthew 23:39), and a Temple rebuilt for the anti-Messiah to fulfill Daniel’s prophecy (Daniel 9:27). But what if I told you that the Torah—our shared foundation—reveals a deeper narrative, one where your faith, rooted in Rome, is cast as Esau, locked in a spiritual war with Ishmael and the House of Jacob? Hashem declares, “I am God… declaring the end from the beginning” (Isaiah 46:8-10), and through Jewish tradition, He has told us this story from Genesis onward. Let me share this perspective, drawing from the Torah, Tanakh, Talmud, Midrash, Zohar, and insights from Jim Long and Rabbi Efraim Palvanov, to reveal Esau’s identity, his modern form in 2025, and the cosmic battle unfolding before the Messiah’s coming.

Who Is Esau in Jewish Tradition?

Brad Scott’s View: Esau as Muslim/Arab Edom

Brad Scott, as noted in the WildBranch Ministries update, was a teacher focused on the Hebrew roots of scripture, emphasizing a return to biblical fidelity over traditional Christian norms. His interpretation of Esau as the Muslim or Arab Edom reflects a Christian dispensationalist lens, common among evangelical prophecy teachers. Scott likely drew on passages like Obadiah 1:18 (“the house of Esau stubble”) and Ezekiel 35:10-15, which prophesy Edom’s desolation due to its hostility toward Israel. In this view, Edom symbolizes modern Arab nations, particularly those in conflict with Israel, such as Jordan (historically linked to Edom’s territory) or broader Muslim states. Scott’s teaching, as part of WildBranch’s mission, would frame this as a literal fulfillment in the end times, with Israel (Jacob) triumphing over Edom (Arabs/Muslims) during a climactic war, possibly Gog and Magog (Ezekiel 38-39). This aligns with Christian Zionist narratives that see Israel’s modern conflicts as prophetic signs, a perspective Scott might have shared given his focus on scripture over cultural Christianity.

Contrasting Christian and Jewish End-Time Prophecies

Esau, born to Isaac and Rebekah, is Jacob’s twin, yet his opposite (Genesis 25:25). Named for his hairy appearance, he’s also called Edom—“red”—after craving Jacob’s red lentil stew and selling his birthright (Genesis 25:30). The Torah paints him as a hunter, a man of the field, while Jacob dwells in tents, studying (Genesis 25:27). But Jewish tradition deepens this portrait. The Midrash (Bereishit Rabbah 63:6) casts Esau as rebellious even in the womb, fighting Jacob, a foreshadowing of enmity. By age 13, he’s a ne’er-do-well, committing grave sins (Tanchuma, Toledot 2), and the Zohar (I:186b) sees his soul as one needing rectification across generations, a “tragically failed hero,” as Rabbi Palvanov notes in his lecture “How Esau Became Rome” (Part 1, ~5:00).

The Tanakh amplifies this. Obadiah 1:18 declares, “The house of Jacob shall be a fire, and the house of Joseph a flame, and the house of Esau stubble… there shall be no survivor for the house of Esau, for the Lord has spoken.” Malachi 1:2-3 adds, “I have loved Jacob, but Esau I have hated,” setting Edom’s hills as a desolation. Why such hostility? History and typology provide the answer.

Esau Becomes Edom, Then Rome

Esau’s descendants settle in Seir, becoming the Edomites (Genesis 36:8). By the Second Temple period, Edom’s identity shifts. The Idumeans, Edomite descendants, are forcibly converted to Judaism under John Hyrcanus (Josephus, Antiquities 13.9.1), but their loyalty is suspect. Herod, an Idumean, becomes Rome’s puppet king in Judea, cementing the Edom-Rome equation (Palvanov, ~10:00). The Talmud (Sanhedrin 12a) and Midrash (Bereishit Rabbah 65:21) identify Esau/Edom with Rome, especially after the Temple’s destruction in 70 CE. Rabbi Akiva, per Genesis Rabbah, sees Esau’s “hands” as Rome’s oppression, crushing Jacob’s voice.

When Constantine converts Rome to Christianity in the 4th century, Edom evolves again. Jim Long, in Blood Brothers, argues that Esau symbolizes Rome’s spiritual legacy—Christianity itself (Chapter 3). The Zohar (II:94a) hints at Esau’s soul cycling through history, opposing Jacob’s mission. For Jews, Esau isn’t just a man but a system: Rome, then Christendom, perpetually seeking to supplant Jacob’s birthright.

Hashem’s End from the Beginning

Hashem told us this end from the beginning. Genesis 25:23—“Two nations are in your womb… the older will serve the younger”—sets the stage. Obadiah’s “no survivor for the house of Esau” and Isaiah 46:10’s “My counsel shall stand” promise Jacob’s triumph. The Talmud (Avodah Zarah 9a) divides history into 6,000 years: 2,000 of chaos, 2,000 of Torah, and 2,000 of Messiah. In 5785 (2024-2025), we’re in the messianic era, yet the Messiah delays due to our sins. The Zohar (III:212b) predicts a star on Elul 25, 5784 (September 27, 2024), heralding upheaval—coinciding with events like Nasrallah’s death, seen by some as Ishmael’s decline.

For Christians, the Temple’s rebuilding signals the anti-Messiah (Daniel 9:27). Jewish tradition agrees it’s a prerequisite for redemption (Maimonides, Mishneh Torah, Melachim 11:1), but the Messiah ben David, not an anti-Messiah, will oversee it. The war of Gog and Magog (Ezekiel 38-39) looms, where Jacob’s fire consumes Esau’s stubble—Christianity’s system, not its people, per Rav Kook’s hope for reconciliation (Rabbi Sacks, Covenant & Conversation, 2008).

A Spiritual War and a Call to Reflect

You may not see your faith as Esau, but Jewish tradition does. Rome’s legacy—Christianity—seeks to convert Jews, believing it hastens the Messiah. Yet Hashem’s plan, revealed from Genesis, ensures Jacob’s victory. The third-day motif in Torah—Abraham seeing Moriah (Genesis 22:4), Sinai’s revelation (Exodus 19:11)—marks divine turning points, not a singular resurrection. Our Messiah comes not to die but to reign, rebuilding the Temple for worship, not desecration.

In 2025, as Israel faces threats and celestial signs unfold, consider this: Hashem’s Torah tells the end from the beginning. Esau and Ishmael’s spiritual systems may oppose Jacob, but the fire of Jacob and the flame of Joseph will prevail. Will you align with Hashem’s eternal covenant with Israel (Psalm 147:19), or cling to Rome’s legacy? The choice is yours, but the outcome is written.