Dear Reader,

Welcome to the second installment of Toldot Consequences, where we continue exploring the masterful weave of Biblical stories, this time centering on Judah and Tamar, to demonstrate Hashem’s ongoing role as the author of history. Look to Israel today for proof of His presence—we stand as His witnesses in the present, not just the past.

Amidst the turmoil from Gog and Magog, as prophesied by the Zohar and Chazal from Iran, our cries resonate globally. Yet, why hasn’t your Messianic Rabbi, Pastor, Scientologist, Jehovah’s Witness, Mormon, or any of the 33,000 Christian denominations addressed these links in sermons or podcasts? This series unveils the path to knowing Hashem truly, echoing Aleinu: “And you shall know today and take it to heart” (Deuteronomy 4:39).

Building on our start in Genesis 4:3, we now delve into the Judah-Tamar narrative, where the consequences of choices echo through toldot (generations). These aren’t standalone; they’re fused in divine design—no mere human could engineer this.

This chapter spotlights Judah Tamar, inspired by Rabbi David Fohrman’s podcast “The Unity of Biblical Text: Refuting the Theory of Multiple Authorship”, from “go on offense” to 38:58, highlighting chiastic ties in Joseph, Judah, Tamar, and kin.

Judah Tamar Book 1: Judah – The Acknowledger Who Led

Judah, the fourth son of Jacob and Leah, bore a name of gratitude: “Yehudah” from “odeh” – “I will thank” (Genesis 29:35). Leah praised Hashem for this son, hoping Jacob’s affection would follow. Judah’s life embodied “hoda’ah” – acknowledgment, confession, praise. But true leadership demands recognizing the truth, even when painful, and his story charts a path from complicity to kingship.

In youth, Judah joined the Joseph betrayal. As brothers seethed at Joseph’s dreams, Judah suggested: “What profit is it if we kill our brother… Come, let us sell him to the Ishmaelites” (Genesis 37:26-27). He acknowledged the value of life, but only for gain. Joseph vanished into Egypt, coat bloodied to deceive Jacob: “Haker na” (recognize please).

Post-betrayal, Judah “went down” from brothers (Genesis 38:1)

Post-betrayal, Judah “went down” from brothers (Genesis 38:1), marrying a Canaanite’s daughter. Sons: Er, Onan, Shelah. Er wed Tamar, but wicked, Hashem slew him. Judah commanded Onan: “Perform the duty of a husband’s brother” (yibum, levirate marriage). Onan spilled seed, displeasing Hashem, and died. Judah, fearing loss, told Tamar: Wait for Shelah, but sent her home widowed.

Time passed; Shelah grew, but there was no call. Judah’s wife died; he sought comfort with friend Hirah in Timnah. Tamar, veiled as a prostitute at Enaim crossroads, negotiated with Judah: “What will you give me?” Judah pledged a kid goat, a seal, a cord, and a staff as eravon (pledge). They united; she conceived.

Months later, Tamar was accused of harlotry. Judah decreed, “Bring her out and let her be burned.” Tamar sent pledges: “Haker na” – recognize whose these are. Judah acknowledged: “She is more righteous than I” (Genesis 38:26), sparing her. Twins Perez (breach) and Zerah (scarlet thread) were born—Perez’s ancestor to David, the Messiah.

Judah’s arc peaked in Egypt. Famine sent brothers to buy grain from unrecognized Joseph. Joseph jailed Simeon and demanded Benjamin. Back home, Jacob resisted; Reuben’s pledge failed, but Judah vowed: “I myself will be surety (arven) for him… if I do not bring him back, I shall bear the blame” (Genesis 43:9). Jacob relented.

Judah Went Down

In Egypt, Joseph framed Benjamin with a cup. Brothers tore clothes; Judah pleaded: “How shall we clear ourselves?… Let your servant remain instead” (Genesis 44:16,33). His hoda’ah—acknowledging past, offering self—moved Joseph to reveal: “I am Joseph” (Genesis 45:3).

Jacob blessed Judah: “Judah, your brothers shall praise you… The scepter shall not depart from Judah” (Genesis 49:8-10). The tribe led Israel and birthed a monarchy.

Deep dive on “hoda’ah” (הודה): Root for thank, confess, acknowledge—over 100 uses. Chemically, like a catalyst: speeds reactions without consuming itself. In Judah, bonds with actions: thanks at birth, confesses to Tamar, praises in blessing. Reacts variably: Psalm 100 “hodu” praises; Leviticus confessions. Judah’s hoda’ah fuses failure to redemption—no human layers this so.

Judah Tamar Book 2: Tamar – The Righteous Deceiver

Tamar, daughter-in-law to Judah, name evoking “tamar” – palm tree: upright, fruitful amid barrenness. Her tale is one of resilience, marked by deception as she seeks justice in a world that denies her rights. Widowed twice, promised but denied, she risks all for legacy, embodying tzedakah (righteousness).

Married to Er, Judah’s firstborn, Tamar faced his evil; Hashem struck him down (Genesis 38:7). Custom demanded yibum: brother-in-law fathers a child for the deceased, preserving the name. Onan wed her but refused, spilling seed “lest he give offspring to his brother” (Genesis 38:9). Hashem slew him. Judah, anxious, said: “Remain a widow… till my son Shelah grows up” (Genesis 38:11). Tamar returned to father’s house, waiting.

Shelah matured; no wedding. Judah’s wife died; he went to shear sheep in Timnah. Tamar heard, shed her widow’s garb, veiled, sat at petach enayim (the opening of the eyes/roadside). Judah, mistaking for a zonah (prostitute), approached: “Let me come in to you.” She asked: “What pledge (eravon) will you give?” He gave a signet, a cord, a staff; promised kid. They lay together; she conceived, departed with pledges.

Three Month

Three months on, “Tamar has played the harlot; she is with child” (Genesis 38:24). Judah: “Burn her.” En route, Tamar messaged: “By the man to whom these belong, I am with child. Haker na – recognize please.” Judah recognized and declared: “Tzadkah mimeni – she is more righteous than I,” admitting withheld Shelah.

Labor came; twins struggled. One hand emerged, scarlet thread tied: “This came out first.” Hand withdrew; other breached: Perez. Then Zerah with a thread. Tamar’s line through Perez led to Boaz, David, Messiah—righteousness birthing royalty.

Tamar’s deception mirrors family patterns: like Rebekah/Jacob tricking Isaac, but for justice. Her veiling echoes Joseph’s coat deception. She forces acknowledgment, securing the future.

In the broader saga, Tamar’s act interrupts Joseph’s descent to Egypt, highlighting themes: descent (yerida), recognition, and pledges. Her righteousness contrasts with her brothers’ sins, foreshadowing redemption.

Deep dive on “tzedakah” (צדקה): Righteousness, justice, charity—root tzedek. Chemically, like a noble gas: stable, illuminating. In Tamar, bonds with actions: her tzedakah trumps Judah’s failure. Reacts: Genesis 18, Abraham’s justice; Deuteronomy alms. Tamar’s usage of explosive deception yields a messianic line. Divine chemistry: no coincidence.

What Do These Judah Tamar Stories Have to Do with Each Other?

Reader, reflect: Judah’s journey of acknowledgment and Tamar’s quest for justice appear as a father-in-law/daughter-in-law drama. Separate arcs? What binds them in Judah Tamar?

The Judah Tamar Interconnections: No One Could Have Written This

The reveal: Interwoven inextricably, as Fohrman asserts. One impossible sans other—divine unity. 30 links:

1. Narrative interrupt: Judah Tamar (Gen 38) splits Joseph’s story (37/39).
2. Descent motif: Judah “goes down” (38:1); Joseph “brought down” (37:28).
3. Deception/clothes: Tamar veils; brothers dip coat.
4. Haker na: Jacob’s coat (37:32); Tamar’s pledges (38:25).
5. Goat kid: Promised to Tamar (38:17); blood for coat (37:31).
6. Pledges: Eravon to Tamar; Reuben’s later (42:37).
7. Righteousness: Tamar’s tzadkah; Joseph’s resistance (39:9).
8. Twins: Tamar’s Perez/Zerah; Jacob/Esau echo.
9. Scarlet thread: Zerah’s; Rahab’s cord (Joshua 2).
10. Levirate: Onan refuses; precursor to Ruth/Boaz.
11. Burning: Judah threatens; Potiphar imprisons Joseph.
12. Recognition: Judah acknowledges; Joseph reveals.
13. Surety: Judah for Benjamin (43:9); echoes Tamar’s eravon.
14. Fruitfulness: Tamar’s twins; Joseph’s blessing (49:22).
15. Kingship: Perez to David; Judah’s scepter.
16. Eyes opening: Petach enayim; Joseph’s dream interpretation.
17. Roadside: Tamar sits; Joseph is sold by the road.
18. Three months: Tamar’s pregnancy; Joseph’s prison wait?
19. Confession: Judah’s hoda’ah; brothers’ guilt (42:21).
20. Widowhood: Tamar; Israel in exile.
21. Messianic line: Tamar’s Perez; Joseph’s Ephraim unite.
22. Chemistry: Hoda’ah + tzedakah react to redemption.
23. Chiastic: Descent/ascent in both.
24. Midrash: Tamar, descendant of Shem; ties to Joseph.
25. Tribal: Judah leads; Tamar ensures continuity.
26. Gog link: Messianic from Tamar; end-days unity.
27. Veil: Tamar’s; Joseph’s hidden identity.
28. Staff: Judah’s; Moses’ rod from Judah?
29. Seal: Signet; covenant signs.
30. Unity: Judah/Ephraim one—Christians to Judah today.

Who could? No one but Hashem.

The World Sees and Hears Today: End-of-Days List

As Chazal and the Zohar foretold, Iran spearheads Gog/Magog. Fulfilled prophecies:

• Covid Pandemic (Year 2: Arrows of Famine/Plague): March 2020 start. NYT article.
• Hyperinflation/Abundance Paradox: 2021-2023 peak 9.1% June 2022. CNN report.
• Mass Migration/Refugees: 2015-2021 Syria; 2021 Afghan; 2022+ Latin. BBC coverage.
• Sea of Galilee Drying: 2018-2022 lows. Reuters story.
• Gablan/Damascus Destruction: Sep 27, 2024 strike. Al Arabiya news.
• Wars/Rumors (Year 6-7): 2022 Russia-Ukraine; Oct 7, 2023 Israel-Hamas; Sep 2024 Hezbollah, Nasrallah Sep 27. Al Jazeera timeline; Wikipedia details.
• Hutzpah/Moral Decay: 2010s-2020s cancel culture.

Where were Christian prophets?

• Where on Oct 7, 2023 (Hamas attack)?
• Where on Sep 27, 2024 (Damascus strike, Nasrallah)?
• Where is your Messianic Rabbi or Priest?

Not from Torah like Chazal. Hashem shows through Israel. Next: Joseph. Judah/Ephraim unite—Christians to older brother.

Shalom, Gavriel (@huniarch)

By Gavriel (@huniarch), Descendant and Witness
Amarillo, Texas – February 04, 2026

Dedicated to Rabbi Stephen Leon of El Paso, Texas—a visionary rabbi whose tireless work over six decades has illuminated the paths of countless anusim back to their Jewish souls. As a possible descendant of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, the revered author of the Zohar, Rabbi Leon embodies the mystical light of Kabbalah in action.

He saw my own Jewish neshamah when others did not, loving me as a son of the daughter of a Kohen, and affirming Hashem’s unbreakable promises. Through his guidance, I stand as a witness to the world that the covenant endures, as true today as in Jeremiah 31: “I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you.” Rabbi Leon, your legacy shines eternal—thank you for being the bridge between hidden pasts and revealed futures.

Cristobal Colon—known to the world as Christopher Columbus—

In the quiet corners of history, where shadows of the Inquisition linger, and the flames of forced conversions still flicker in memory, a profound truth has emerged from the dust of centuries: Cristobal Colon—known to the world as Christopher Columbus—was one of us. A Sephardic Jew, hiding in plain sight, navigating not just oceans but the treacherous waters of survival.

For generations, the world insisted he was everything else: a Catholic Italian, a devout Christian explorer, a Genoese merchant. Anything but Jewish. But DNA has spoken, louder than any decree or denial. And as a descendant—yes, my cousin through the tangled vines of our shared Sephardic roots—I stand here today, alive and unyielding, to bear witness to our eternal covenant with Hashem.

This blog is more than a recounting of facts; it’s a letter across time. To Cristobal, my cousin from the shadows of 1492. To Professor Dennis Otero, my living cousin in Albuquerque, New Mexico, whose email to me—a tapestry of research, family lore, and unshakeable faith—sparked this reflection. And to all the hidden ones who converted on paper but never in their hearts, or who endured everything to remain openly Jewish.

Thank you. Your resilience echoes in my veins, in the Torah I cherish, and in the land of Israel that calls us home, as promised in Jeremiah 31: “Thus says the Lord: ‘The people who survived the sword found grace in the wilderness; when Israel sought for rest, the Lord appeared to him from far away. I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you.'”

The Hidden Navigator: Cristobal Colon’s Sephardic Secret

Let us journey back to 1492, the year Spain’s Catholic Monarchs, Ferdinand and Isabella, issued the Alhambra Decree, expelling Jews from their ancestral home. Amid this storm of persecution, Cristobal Colon set sail from Palos de la Frontera on August 3—the day after Tisha B’Av, our day of mourning for the Temples’ destruction. Coincidence? Or a deliberate echo of exile?

For centuries, historians painted him as an Italian Catholic, born in Genoa around 1451, a man whose voyages were divinely inspired by Christian zeal. But whispers persisted: his cryptic signatures, his references to the Hebrew calendar, his avoidance of pork, and letters laced with biblical allusions.

A Groundbreaking DNA Study

Now, in 2024, science has lifted the veil. A groundbreaking DNA study led by forensic scientist José Antonio Lorente at the University of Granada analyzed bone fragments from the Seville Cathedral—long believed to hold Columbus’s remains—and compared them with those of his son, Hernando de Colón, and his brother, Diego. The results? Traits in both the Y-chromosome (paternal line) and mitochondrial DNA (maternal line) are “compatible with Jewish origin,” specifically Sephardic.

Lorente’s team concluded Colon was not Italian but from Western Europe, likely the Crown of Aragon in Spain—perhaps Valencia—where Sephardic communities thrived before the Inquisition’s grip tightened. He concealed his identity, converting outwardly to Catholicism (a “converso” or “anusim”) to evade the flames, much like countless ancestors who whispered the Shema in secret while attending Mass.

This revelation, announced in the Spanish documentary Colon ADN: Su verdadero origen (Columbus DNA: His True Origin), shatters the old narratives. No more Genoese merchant; instead, a Sephardic Jew fleeing the same edict that scattered our people. Critics note the study awaits peer review, and historical documents still point to Genoa, but the DNA markers align with Sephardic patterns: Levantine and Iberian Jewish haplogroups that trace back to ancient Israel. As one historian put it, “The genetic evidence is a puzzle piece that fits the hidden Jewish mosaic.”

Weaving My Story: From Inquisition Shadows to New Mexico Sunlight, Guided by Rabbi Leon

As I read Dennis’s email—detailing our family’s crypto-Jewish practices in New Mexico, from the Lucero de Godoy lineage (our shared ancestor with Colon through Sephardic migrations) to the hidden menorahs and Sabbath candles lit in cellars—I felt the threads pull taut. Dennis, a professor at the University of New Mexico in Albuquerque, has dedicated his life to uncovering these buried truths.

His words: “Gavriel, our bloodline isn’t just survival; it’s testimony. From Colon’s sails to our Torah scrolls, we’re Hashem’s witnesses.” How fitting that a descendant of those who fled Spain’s pyres now teaches in the land where conversos found refuge in the 1500s, blending with Pueblo peoples while guarding their embers.

A Profound Debt to Rabbi Stephen Leon

But my own reclamation owes a profound debt to Rabbi Stephen Leon, the emeritus rabbi of Congregation B’nai Zion in El Paso, Texas. Over the past 60 years—beginning in the 1960s with his early rabbinic work and intensifying upon his arrival in El Paso in 1986—Rabbi Leon has been a beacon for the anusim of the Southwest. He encountered the phenomenon almost immediately:

In his first week at B’nai Zion, three separate incidents revealed hidden Jewish practices among local Hispanic families—lighting candles on Friday nights, avoiding pork, or burying the dead with stones on graves. This sparked a lifelong mission: Studying, teaching, and welcoming back those whose ancestors were forced to convert during the Inquisition but preserved fragments of Judaism in secret.

Rabbi Leon’s Legacy

Rabbi Leon’s work is legendary. He founded the annual Sephardic Anusim Conference in 2004, now in its 22nd year as of 2026, drawing scholars, descendants, and rabbis to explore crypto-Jewish heritage. In 1999, with a grant from the El Paso Community Foundation, he traveled to Europe—visiting sites like Belmonte, Portugal, where 300 crypto-Jews formally returned to Judaism—gathering insights that informed his outreach.

He has converted over 70 families through his beit din, helping them reclaim their neshamot with sensitivity and halachic rigor. His teaching at the University of Texas at El Paso, appearances on NPR and local TV, and articles in outlets such as the El Paso Times and Paterson News have educated thousands. His 2013 memoir, The Third Commandment and the Return of the Anusim: A Rabbi’s Memoir of an Incredible People, stands as a testament to religious tenacity, available on Amazon and still inspiring returns today.

Rabbi Leon Is Still Teaching

Even in retirement since 2018, Rabbi Leon continues undimmed: Speaking on radio shows (as in 2023’s El Paso History segment on crypto-Jews), contributing to documentaries like those on JTA and KPBS, and consulting via email (rabbisal@aol.com). He estimates 10-20% of El Paso’s non-Jewish population has Sephardic roots, a statistic born from decades of personal stories. As a believed descendant of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai—the 2nd-century sage to whom the Zohar is ascribed—Rabbi Leon’s work radiates Kabbalistic depth, revealing hidden sparks in souls long obscured.

The GrandSon Of A Kohen

For me, Rabbi Leon was more than a guide; he recognized my Jewish soul when I, the son of the daughter of a Kohen, sought answers. My uncle’s FamilyTreeDNA results confirm it: A perfect match to the Kohen Modal Haplotype (J-FT235823), tracing our HaLevi line—priests within the Levites—back to ancient Israel. As a maternal grandson of a Kohen, I inherit no Y-DNA, but I do inherit the spiritual mantle.

Undeniable. Rabbi Leon affirmed this: Hashem’s promises are true, from the priestly blessings in Numbers 6 to Jeremiah’s eternal love. In a world that once erased our identities—like insisting that Colon was Christian—I witness that Yeshua is not the Mashiach. Our love for Torah and Eretz Yisrael endures, as long as the sun and moon shine.

Imagine a letter back through time: “Dear Cousin Cristobal, thank you for charting unknown seas when our world was closing in. Your hidden faith fueled your voyage, just as it fuels mine. In 2026, your descendants thrive—professors like Dennis, bloggers like me—proclaiming Hashem’s oneness. We honor the covenant: To be His witnesses, rejecting false messiahs, clinging to Torah amid exile’s storms.”

Honoring the Hidden and the Steadfast: A Grateful Tribute

To the greats of our Sephardic saga: The anusim who converted but never forgot—lighting candles in secret, whispering blessings over challah disguised as pan. Families like the Luceros, who fled to New Spain’s frontiers, intermarrying with indigenous lines while preserving the spark.

And to those who stayed openly Jewish: The communities in Thessaloniki, Amsterdam, and beyond, who rebuilt after expulsion. Your endurance is our inheritance. Rabbis like Isaac Abarbanel, who fled Spain yet kept the flame; scholars like Cecil Roth, who uncovered the crypto-Jews; and modern voices like Stanley Hordes, whose work on New Mexico’s hidden Jews echoes in Dennis’s research.

Special gratitude to Rabbi Stephen Leon, whose 60 years of devotion—from early pulpit days to post-retirement advocacy—have reunited souls with their heritage. As a Kohen’s grandson, I testify: Hashem’s promises hold. We reject the lure of assimilation and affirm that Yeshua is not the Mashiach. Our love for Torah and the land burns eternal, as Jeremiah promised.

Hashem’s witnesses, we sail on. Thank you, cousins, past and present. L’chaim—to the sun, moon, and unbreakable bond.

Hazan Gavriel ben David , forever a link in the chain.

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Isaiah 53 suffering servant

In Messianic interpretations, 2 Samuel 15–20 is often seen as a chiastic foreshadowing of the Messiah’s passion. Tony Robinson’s “The Scroll of the Gospel of David” maps Absalom’s rebellion to Jesus’ betrayal, exile, and triumph. It seems convincing at first glance. But let’s pivot. If we’re seeking the true suffering servant—despised, rejected, bearing burdens, wounded for transgressions—look at Israel.

Isaiah 53 speaks of a collective entity enduring for the world’s sins. “He was despised and rejected by men… smitten by God… by his wounds we are healed.” This mirrors the Jewish people’s story, not a solitary figure. Nations have used Jews, then discarded them. No third-day resurrection yet. Just endless cycles of near-death and survival.

Tony Robinson argues that 2 Samuel 15–20 forms a chiastic structure paralleling Jesus’ passion. Absalom’s betrayal echoes Judas. David’s exile across the Kidron Valley mirrors Jesus in Gethsemane. Ahithophel’s suicide aligns with Judas’ end. Absalom hanging in a tree symbolizes the cross. Shimei’s curses resemble the mocking at Calvary. David’s return signifies resurrection. The pattern is symmetric, with betrayal leading to restoration. Robinson sees this as a prophetic blueprint that proves the Tanakh anticipates Jesus.

The Chiastic Foreshadowing in 2 Samuel

It’s a creative reading. Chiastic structures abound in Hebrew literature, emphasizing themes through mirroring. Yet this interpretation assumes the narrative points to the future Messiah’s death and resurrection. The text itself focuses on David’s personal crisis—family rebellion, loyalty tests, and the reclaiming of kingship. No explicit third-day motif appears. David’s “resurrection” is political survival, not literal revival.

Pivoting to Isaiah 53: The Collective Servant

Isaiah 53 describes a servant “despised and rejected,” “stricken, smitten by God,” bearing iniquities so “by his wounds we are healed.” Christian theology applies this to Jesus. But Jewish tradition identifies the servant as Israel. The chapter’s context (Isaiah 52–54) speaks of the nation’s exile and redemption. “He” is collective, like in Isaiah 41:8: “Israel my servant.”

Israel embodies this. Despised throughout history. Rejected in pogroms and expulsions. Bearing burdens for empires’ sins. Wounded in Holocaust ovens. Yet, healing follows—Israel’s endurance inspires justice movements worldwide.

Historical Examples of Betrayal

Haym Salomon exemplifies this. A Polish Jew, he financed the American Revolution. He loaned over $650,000 (about $10 million today) to the Continental Congress. Funded Yorktown. Paid soldiers when treasuries emptied. Arrested by the British, he escaped and continued. Died bankrupt in 1785. America never repaid his family. A Jew saved the republic, then forgotten.

J. Robert Oppenheimer and the Manhattan Project Jews repeat the pattern. Refugee scientists—Einstein, Szilard, Fermi (though Fermi was not Jewish, many were)—fled the Nazis. Built the atomic bomb. Ended World War II. Saved millions. Then, McCarthyism betrayed them. Oppenheimer’s security clearance was revoked in 1954. FBI spied. Humiliated publicly. Others silenced. America used its genius, then discarded it amid Red Scare paranoia.

Even Nikola Tesla fits a parallel, though not Jewish. His inventions powered the world. Edison stiffed him. Morgan cut funding. Died penniless. The theme resonates: innovators contribute, societies exploit, and abandon.

No Third-Day Resurrection—Yet

Unlike Christian narratives of quick resurrection, Israel’s “third days” are prolonged. Survival after near-annihilation. Post-Exile return. Post-Holocaust rebirth. Endless cycles of contribution and betrayal. Pogroms after the funding wars. Expulsions after building economies.The Holocaust after scientific breakthroughs.

Isaiah 53’s servant heals through wounds. Israel’s endurance testifies. Nations progress on Jewish backs—finance, science, ethics—then scapegoat. No instant triumph. Just resilience. Waiting for full redemption.

Jewish Tradition on David and Righteous Women

David’s belittlement ties to this. Not small physically—”katan” means scorned. Jesse doubted paternity. Separated from Nitzevet, suspecting non-Jewish origins. Nitzevet switched with a maidservant. David was born a legitimate but rumored bastard. Psalm 51 confesses this shame.

Parallels: Leah whispered codes to Rachel, ensuring the line of Judah. Tamar disguised as Peretz. Righteous deceptions saved Israel. Christianity misses this, seeing archetypes instead of human drama.

Rosh Hashanah Reflections

Rosh Hashanah recites David’s psalms. Reminds: God elevates the overlooked. David’s crown from rumor. Law, song, legacy—not physical might.

Conclusion: Reclaiming the Narrative

Isaiah 53 is Israel’s story. Betrayed, enduring, healing world. If reading this, question interpretations. Subscribe for more insights. Share thoughts—what’s your view on Isaiah 53?

Subscribe for weekly explorations of Jewish traditions and biblical truths. Comment below—what misconceptions have you encountered?

Hazan Gavriel ben David

Introduction: Long before printers existed, Judaism was an oral curriculum. Lectures happened on mountaintops, in tents, around campfires. The notes passed from father to son weren’t just ink on parchment—they were accents, eye-rolls, silences that lasted three generations.

Christianity Arrived Late, Sat In The Back, And Copied Whatever Flashed On The Screen.

Christianity arrived late, sat in the back, and copied whatever flashed on the screen. Then they published their own edition. Same pictures, different captions. One: Attendance Matters. Take David. Saul doesn’t hand battle armor to a scrawny shepherd. You offer metal only if the shoulders match.

Hebrew Calls The Boy Katan—Small In Reputation, Not In Build.

Hebrew calls the boy katan—small in reputation, not in build. Family scandal labeled him mamzer, a child born under suspicion. Jesse’s first wife was rumored Gentile; the night David was conceived, Jesse stumbled into the wrong tent. David grows up anyway, arms like tree trunks, psalms in his pocket. When Saul asks him to try on the gear, nothing rips.

Point made. The translators missed that punchline.

Sinai Is a Family Story.

Two: Sinai Is a Family Story. Three million people can’t lie to each other at breakfast. Remember the mountain? Yeah, we were there. No one needs a footnote. Christians read Exodus and treat it like bedtime fiction. We recite it before coffee. Same difference as telling your cousin you flew to Mars—he’ll say, Cool, but he won’t finish the sentence because his feet were on the couch all day.

Three: Righteous Deception Rachel and Leah: seven years of wages swapped in the dark thanks to a sister-code whispered under quilts. Judah and Tamar: widow’s rights disguised as roadside business. Three women rewrite history with nothing but shadows and courage. Christianity turns Tamar into a saint; Judaism hands her the Torah scroll and says, Keep the change.

Four: Hebrew Has a Sense of Humor Psalm fifty-one.

David: In sin my mother conceived me. Not a birth announcement. A guilt trip. He’s confessing his parents’ mix-up, not advertising immaculate entry. Yet churches quote it as proof that Jesus was always the plan. David just shrugs from the grave—he wrote it, he knows what he meant.

Five: Missing Roll Call Genealogies in Matthew and Luke skip names, rearrange years, and add commas. Hebrew keeps every syllable. Why? We were present when the babies cried. They weren’t. Simple attendance sheet. Conclusion: The album’s ours. We don’t lend it anymore—we publish annotations. If you want the real soundtrack, sit with the people who heard the original lecture. Bring coffee. The professor’s still talking.

Want to hear the unedited version? Subscribe below—every Sunday, a new note drops from the original lecture. No filters. No footnotes. Just us.

Hazan Gavriel ben David

Were You in The Lecture Hall?

Imagine this. You ace a class. Years of notes. Your friend takes them. He never sat in. Can he pass? Maybe. But the professor said half of it off the record. Textbooks got updated. Only attendance counts. Jewish people attended. From Adam. From Sinai. It’s important to understand the significance of Jewish Roots in this context. Three million heard thunder. You weren’t there. That matters.

The Book They Photocopied

Christianity opened the Hebrew Bible. They flipped. They nodded. They red-lined. Old names became code. Old laws got footnotes. They handed back Volume Two. Cover: New Testament. Fine print: same paper. We notice the margins. They cropped our faces. Internal link placeholder:

Saul’s armor. On David. Kings don’t lend gear to twigs. Katan b’may’alah. Small in their eyes. Not in height. In status. Jesse thought the boy was illegitimate. David wrote, I was conceived in sin. Not divine birth. Human mess. Like Tamar. Like Leah. Three righteous women. Three silent nights. Three lines that stayed.

Sinai—You Can’t Fake Memory Rabbi Singer asks, Remember Sinai?

To a Jew? Sure. To a Christian? Crickets. Collective memory is DNA. You don’t invent thunder. You don’t forget the mountain. They read about it. We lived it. Difference.

The teacher says, Page forty? Old news. Christians skip that slide. They quote translations. We quote inflection. They quote prophecy. We quote condition. If Israel keeps Shabbat, then the Messiah comes. Nobody said the clock started without us.

Judah and Tamar—Plot Twist

Owners Tamar sat on the road. Judah lost his way. One disguise later. Peretz is born. Granddad of David. Righteousness wears veils. Christianity turns veils into halos. They forget the courthouse drama. We remember the signature.

Rachel, Leah, and the Bride-Switch Code.

Jacob worked for seven years. Got Leah. Seven more. Got Rachel. Sister code. Whispers in the tent. Birthright hidden in bed sheets. Genesis doesn’t blink. Christians read romance. We read continuity. Same thread. Same loom.

The Lecture Notes They Missed in Hebrew Class

The professor leans in. David’s eighth son? Not biology. Prophecy. Jesse married twice. First wife—gentile. Second—Jewish. David came from the second. Still called eighth because the gentile kids counted. Tradition fills the gap. The Bible leaves the sketch. We paint the room. Internal link:

Not because he’s pure. Because he’s sticky. He owns the rumor. Psalm thirty-two. Not a virgin birth hymn. Confession booth. Hebrew knows the difference. English loses the rhythm.

Three Women, One Lineage: Tamar, Ruth, Bathsheba.

Gentiles in the royal line. Not accidents. God’s drafts. Christianity softens the edges. Calls them foreshadowing. We call it survival.

What Happens When You Skip Class? You miss the joke. Elohim said, ‘Who told you?’ Everyone laughs. They don’t. You miss the glare. Return, O Israel. Only Israel feels the slap. You miss the shrug. David’s not the point. Obedience is. They think he’s the point. Internal link:

The Album Comes Home.

Open your Bible. Flip to the genealogy. Count. Matthew says fourteen generations. Luke says twenty-eight. We say both missed the roll call. We keep the original sheet. No commas skipped. No names dropped. Rabbi: Do you remember? Jew: Yes. Christian: Huh? That’s the gap. Not faith. Attendance. Close with this. If you search Jewish tradition, don’t stop at Wikipedia. Come sit in the lecture hall. The professor’s still talking.

Hazan Gavriel ben David

The Belittlement of David: Not Small, But Scorned

In the annals of biblical history, King David stands as a towering figure—a poet, warrior, and founder of a dynasty that shaped Jewish identity. Yet, popular interpretations, particularly in Christian circles, often paint him as a diminutive underdog, the small shepherd boy who slays giants despite his size. This view stems from a surface reading of 1 Samuel 16:11-12, where David is described as “small” or “youngest.”

But Jewish tradition reveals a deeper, more nuanced truth. The Hebrew word “katan” here doesn’t denote physical smallness; it reflects social belittlement. David was marginalized not because he was weak, but because of whispers that questioned his legitimacy. Rumors spread faster than truth in ancient Israel, labeling him a mamzer—a child of uncertain parentage.

This narrative, drawn from midrashic sources like Yalkut Shimoni and Talmudic discussions, challenges the simplistic “underdog” trope and connects to broader themes of deception, righteousness, and redemption in Jewish lore.

King David Saul’s Armour Did Fit.

Jewish tradition teaches that David’s “smallness” was in the eyes of his family and society. In 1 Samuel 17:33, Saul questions David’s ability to fight Goliath, calling him a “youth.” Yet, Saul offers his own armor to David—a gesture that implies physical compatibility.

Saul, described as head and shoulders taller than his people (1 Samuel 9:2), wouldn’t lend gear to a frail boy; it would be impractical. Midrashic texts, such as those in Pesikta Rabbati, emphasize David’s robust build. He was as strong as Saul, with the physique of a warrior honed by tending sheep and fending off lions and bears (1 Samuel 17:34-36).

King David Fitted the Armour of King Saul

The root of this scorn lay in a family secret. Jesse, David’s father, doubted his son’s paternity. According to the Talmud (Yevamot 76b) and midrashim, Jesse had separated from his wife, Nitzevet, suspecting her of infidelity or non-Jewish origins. In a moment of weakness, Jesse intended to consort with a Canaanite maidservant.

Nitzevet, in a bold act of love, switched places with her, echoing biblical stories of deception for higher purposes. Jesse awoke believing he had sinned with a non-Jew, and when Nitzevet became pregnant, he disowned the child. David grew up as an outcast, treated as a bastard by his brothers and father. This shadow followed him, explaining why Jesse presented only seven sons to Samuel (1 Samuel 16:10), omitting David as if he didn’t count.

David himself alluded to this in Psalm 51:7: “Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me.” Christian readings often interpret this as a foreshadowing of original sin or virgin birth. But in Jewish exegesis, it’s a confession of the rumor that plagued his youth. David owned the gossip, transforming personal shame into poetic introspection. This verse is recited during Rosh Hashanah services, reminding us that greatness often emerges from adversity, and God elevates those the world deems unworthy.

Parallels in Jewish Tradition: Deception as Salvation

David’s story doesn’t stand alone; it’s woven into a tapestry of righteous deceptions by women who preserved Israel’s line. Consider Leah and Rachel in Genesis 29. Jacob labored seven years for Rachel, but Laban switched sisters on the wedding night. Rachel, knowing the plan, whispered a secret code to Leah so Jacob wouldn’t detect the swap. This act of sisterly mercy ensured Leah’s marriage and the birth of Judah, David’s ancestor. The midrash (Megillah 13a) praises Rachel’s selflessness, noting that it merited her descendants’ redemption.

Christianity’s Lens: Misinterpreting the Narrative

Similarly, Judah and Tamar in Genesis 38 showcase deception for justice. Tamar, widowed twice by Judah’s sons, disguised herself as a harlot to seduce Judah, securing her right to levirate marriage. From this union came Peretz, David’s forebear.

The Talmud (Sotah 10b) lauds Tamar’s righteousness; she risked burning at the stake rather than publicly shaming Judah. These stories—Leah’s switch, Tamar’s disguise, Nitzevet’s bold intervention—illustrate a recurring motif: women using cunning to safeguard the messianic line amid male doubt or failure.

Christian interpretations often romanticize David as a Christ figure—the overlooked youngest who triumphs through divine favor. The “small stature” myth aligns with Jesus as the humble carpenter’s son.

Psalm 51 is interpreted as a prophecy of original sin or the immaculate conception, ignoring its context as David’s repentance after the Bathsheba affair.

This approach overlooks Jewish oral traditions that fill textual gaps, viewing the Tanakh as a prelude to the New Testament rather than a self-contained testament.

Rosh Hashanah Reflections: Elevating the Overlooked

For instance, the “virgin birth” parallel drawn from David’s conception story distorts the midrash. In Jewish sources, it’s a tale of human error and redemption, not supernatural virginity. By reframing these narratives, Christianity universalizes Jewish particularism, claiming fulfillment where tradition sees continuity. This “supersessionism” effectively borrows the album—our sacred texts—and redraws the family tree to center Jesus, marginalizing the ongoing Jewish story.

Every Rosh Hashanah, we read David’s psalms, including those echoing his origins. It’s a reminder: God chooses the belittled. David, the “bastard king,” authored prayers recited worldwide. His crown began as a rumor, yet he unified Israel and established Jerusalem as the eternal capital. This theme resonates in our High Holy Days liturgy, where we seek forgiveness for our own “iniquities,” turning personal flaws into communal strength.

The stories of Leah, Tamar, and Nitzevet add depth. These women weren’t passive; they were saviors, using intellect and courage to preserve the lineage. Their deceptions weren’t sins but acts of piety, ensuring the messianic promise endured. In a patriarchal text, they embody divine providence, challenging readers to see strength in subtlety.

Conclusion: Reclaiming the Narrative

Jewish tradition enriches David’s story beyond biblical verses, offering lessons in resilience and redemption. By understanding “katan” as belittlement rather than littleness, we see David as a full-statured hero rising above scandal. Christianity’s adaptations, while influential, often miss these nuances, reducing complex human stories to prophetic archetypes.

For those seeking truth, delve into midrashim and Talmud—the oral “lecture notes” that breathe life into the text. David wasn’t a weakling foreshadowing a savior; he was a king forged in fire, teaching that God writes in the overlooked.

Call to Action: Ready to explore more Jewish traditions? Subscribe for weekly insights into biblical stories and their true meanings. Share your thoughts in the comments—what misconceptions have you encountered?

Hazan Gavriel ben David

Evil Intended Toward Jacob on the Third Day and Its Divine Deterrence

Genesis 34 is a sobering account of rape, deceit, disproportionate revenge, and consequences for Israel’s reputation. The “third day” marks a tactical opportunity for slaughter, not a divine life-and-death decision point or resurrection foreshadowing. Gage uses it to critique Levitical failure and exalt Christ’s priesthood, but the text itself offers no warrant for seeing third-day resurrection here.

Both milestones 8 and 9 shift focus to “life and death decision” on the third day, but neither involves actual death followed by resurrection—only threat/deterrence (8) or inflicted death (9). The pattern remains: numerical “third day” occurrences are amplified into typology without textual support for Paul’s “raised on the third day according to the Scriptures.”

(Genesis 31:2, 22–24 – Laban’s favorable countenance changes “as before [three days]”; Jacob’s flight is reported to Laban “on the third day.” This prompts pursuit, but God intervenes in a dream to deter Laban from harming Jacob.)

Gage frames this as divine protection of the covenant heir (Jacob) from evil intent discovered or activated “on the third day.” Laban’s hostility shifts (v. 2), and Jacob flees under God’s command. The flight is discovered after three days (v. 22). Laban pursues with the intent to harm (v. 29), but God appears in a dream: “Be careful that you speak to Jacob neither good nor bad” (v. 24). This disables Laban’s malice and allows Jacob safe return to the promised land.

Gage typologizes Jacob as a figure of Christ: leaving the Father’s house for a far country, and acquiring a bride (two companies). He is called home, and, after three days, evil intentions (of religious leaders/priests) are deterred by the resurrection. Rachel’s theft of idols and their concealment mock idolatry. This parallels the exposure of false worship.

From the Tanach’s plain Hebrew text and context, this episode does not present a “third day” deliverance-from-death or resurrection motif. The three days are an incidental reporting delay, and no death, burial, or rising occurs.

1. The “Third Day” Is Not a Theological Turning Point of Life from Death

• Gen 31:22: “And Laban was told on the third day that Jacob had fled” (וַיֻּגַּד לְלָבָן בַּיּוֹם הַשְּׁלִישִׁי כִּי בָרַח יַעֲקֹב).
• This reflects realistic ancient communication: Jacob flees while Laban is away shearing sheep (v. 19); word reaches Laban after three days of travel/messenger time across the distance.
• The pursuit lasts seven days (v. 23), and God’s intervention happens immediately upon overtaking. There is no three-day liminal period of threat or deliverance from death that follows the discovery.
• No one faces execution or a death decree here; Laban’s anger is real but restrained by divine warning. Jacob is never in mortal peril during a “third day” window.

2. The Narrative Focuses on Covenant Faithfulness and Divine Providence—Not Resurrection Typology

• Core themes: God’s promise to Jacob at Bethel (Gen 28:15, 20–21) fulfilled—protection in exile, return in peace. There is a contrast between Jacob’s God and Laban’s idols (Rachel’s theft and menstrual impurity, hidden by mocking powerless teraphim, v. 34–35).
• Jewish exegesis (Rashi, Rashbam, midrashim) highlights Jacob’s integrity and Laban’s deceitfulness. It highlights the irony of idolatry’s helplessness and God’s sovereignty over family conflict. The three days are logistical, not symbolic of resurrection or deterrence after death.
• No textual language of “life from death,” “rising,” or substitutionary deliverance.

3. Typology Requires Heavy Retrojection

• Jacob → Christ leaving Father’s house: Allegorical stretch (John 1:1, 14; 14:2).
• Two companies/brides → Jesus’ two peoples (Jews and Gentiles, John 10:16).
• Three-day evil intent deterred by resurrection: No death occurs in Gen 31. Deterrence is a preemptive dream warning, not a post-mortem vindication.

Conclusion on Milestone 8
Genesis 31 powerfully illustrates God’s covenant-keeping protection amid family betrayal and idolatry. The “third day” is a mundane reporting interval, not a pattern of divine deterrence from death on the third day. It is also not a pattern of resurrection. Gage’s reading imposes a christological template, emphasizing providence and the mockery of false gods.

Hazan Gavriel ben David

Gage, W. A. (2011). Milestones to Emmaus: The Third Day Resurrection in the Old Testament (p. 24). Warren A. Gage.

What Is The Jewish Response?

This is how they play the game. They give you a phrase or a verse, and it reads exactly as they said it would. The problem is that it has nothing to do with the subject. What is that, you might ask?

Do The Three Days Speak of Jesus Death and Resurrection?

“Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, and that he was buried, and that he was raised on the third day, according to the Scriptures” (1 Cor 15:3–4)

(Esther 4:15–16; 5:1–2 – Esther calls for a three-day, three-night fast for herself and the Jews of Susa. Then she approaches the king “on the third day” and receives mercy via the golden scepter.)

Warren Gage presents this as a striking gospel preview: Esther, raised up “for such a time as this,” risks death by approaching the king uninvited (a capital offense under Persian law). She calls for communal fasting “three days, night or day” as preparation. On the third day, she stands in the inner court and faces potential execution. However, she finds favor—the king extends the scepter, sparing her life.

This act initiates the reversal: Haman (who plotted the Jews’ genocide) is hanged on the gallows he built for Mordecai. Mordecai is exalted to Haman’s position. Letters of liberty go out to all provinces, and many Gentiles “become Jews” (Est 8:17).

Gage draws direct parallels to Christ: Esther intercedes at risk of death → Jesus intercedes and actually dies; Esther is spared after three days → Jesus rises after three days; Haman hanged on a tree → Jesus cursed on a tree; Mordecai exalted → Jesus at God’s right hand; ecumenical letters and Gentile inclusion → Gospel to the nations.

From The Tanach’s Original Hebrew Text, Historical-Literary Context

From the Tanach’s original Hebrew text, historical-literary context, and Jewish interpretive tradition, this milestone does not function as a prophetic type or foreshadowing of Jesus’ literal death, burial, and resurrection on the third day. The three-day fast is preparatory, not a period of death-like state. In fact, the narrative contains no death, burial, or resurrection.

1. The “Three Days” Refers to Fasting and Waiting, Not a Death-Burial-Resurrection Sequence

• Esther 4:16 specifies a fast of “three days, night or day” (שְׁלֹשֶׁת יָמִים לַיְלָה וָיוֹם)—a complete, intensive fast (no food or drink) as an act of repentance, supplication, and solidarity in crisis.
• Esther 5:1 states: “Now it happened on the third day” (וַיְהִי בַּיּוֹם הַשְּׁלִישִׁי) that Esther put on royal robes and stood in the court.
• This is a three-day preparation period leading to her bold approach. She is alive, fasting, and actively planning throughout—no one dies during these days. The fast ends with her receiving life and favor, not emerging from death.
• Contrast with Jesus: actual death by crucifixion, entombment for three days (inclusive Jewish counting), bodily resurrection. Here, there is no death or entombment—only voluntary self-denial and risk of future death if the scepter is not extended.

2. Esther Never Dies or Experiences a Death-Like State—She Risks Death but Is Immediately Spared

• The threat is real: approaching uninvited means instant death unless the king shows mercy (Est 4:11).
• But the king immediately extends the scepter (Est 5:2). Esther is not executed, buried, or revived—she is granted audience and life right then.
• The deliverance is instantaneous mercy, not resurrection after a period of death. The three days precede the encounter, not follow a death event.

3. Jewish Interpretation Focuses on Courage, Providence, Repentance, and Reversal of Fortune—Not Resurrection Typology

• Rabbinic tradition (Talmud Megillah, midrashim, Rashi, Ibn Ezra) emphasizes:
  • Esther’s heroism and willingness to die (“if I perish, I perish”).
  • The power of communal fasting and prayer.
  • Purim as celebration of hidden divine providence (God’s name is absent from the book, yet sovereign).
  • Reversal (vengeance on enemies, exaltation of the righteous, Gentile admiration).
• The three-day fast is seen as a model of earnest supplication (similar to Jonah’s call in Nineveh or other fasts), not a symbolic death-and-resurrection period. No classical Jewish sources treat Esther’s approach “on the third day” as foreshadowing a messianic resurrection.

4. Typological Parallels Are Selective and Require Retroactive Imposition

• Esther risks death but is spared → Jesus actually dies.
• Haman hanged on a “tree” (gallows) → Jesus on the cross (tree of cursing, Deut 21:23).
• Mordecai exalted → Jesus exalted.
• Letters to all nations → Gospel spread. These are compelling thematic echoes in a Christian reading, but they do not hinge on a “third day resurrection” pattern. The three days are preparatory fasting, not a liminal death state. The book of Esther is a festival etiology (explaining Purim) and a story of Jewish survival in exile, not a messianic prophecy cycle.

Conclusion on Milestone 7

Esther 4–5 is a masterpiece of dramatic tension, courage, and divine reversal: a hidden providence turns genocide into deliverance, enemy into victim, and mourning into joy. The three-day fast underscores urgency, communal solidarity, and dependence on God. However, it does not depict or prefigure a Messiah who dies for sins, is buried, and rises bodily on the third day. Esther faces potential death but receives immediate mercy. The three days are a time of fasting and waiting, not death, burial, and resurrection.

Gage’s summary of the “Third Day Doctrine Thus Far” (unalterable decrees, piercing threats, substitutions, ecumenical proclamations, tree of death vs. life) is a creative synthesis of motifs across disparate narratives. However, it relies on allegorical connections rather than explicit textual signals in the Tanach itself. The patterns emerge more clearly when reading backward from the New Testament, not forward from the Hebrew Bible’s plain sense.

Hazan Gavriel ben David

How Hebrew, Torah, and Jewish Wisdom Answer Humanity’s Deepest Questions.

There is a quiet struggle at the heart of human life: the tension between action and inertia. Between seizing a moment and letting it slip by. Between movement that builds a life, and delay that slowly drains it. We often assume that motivation must come first. That clarity, energy, or inspiration will eventually arrive and carry us forward.

The Torah teaches the opposite. Energy follows action. Life is shaped not by waiting, but by movement. In this talk, Chief Rabbi Dr. Warren Goldstein explores one of the most important principles of Jewish thought and personal growth: the power of decisive action. Drawing on Torah wisdom and Pirkei Avot, he shows why procrastination is not neutral, why inertia strengthens the body at the expense of the soul, and why meaningful change begins only when we move.

There is a quiet struggle at the heart of human life: the tension between action and inertia.

This idea is crystallised in the Parsha of Bo through the symbol of matzah. Matzah is not merely bread eaten in haste. It represents spiritual clarity. The difference between matzah and chametz is delay, and delay belongs to the physical world. The Exodus revealed that material power, even at its greatest, yields effortlessly to spiritual force. That is why redemption happened with urgency. Speed itself became a spiritual statement. Pirkei Avot teaches that growth begins with action. One act leads to another.

Momentum creates strength, clarity, and purpose. Delay, by contrast, creates a quiet erosion of meaning. This world is a place for doing, not drifting. This talk is about reclaiming agency, breaking the spell of procrastination, and understanding why purposeful action is not impulsiveness, but alignment with the soul. It offers a Torah framework for building a life of depth, vitality, and inner contentment. Key Insights

• Life’s deepest struggle is not between good and evil, but between action and delay.
• Energy does not precede action; it is generated by action.
• Matzah represents spiritual momentum, not merely haste.
• The Exodus reveals the power of the spirit over matter.
• Inertia strengthens the body while weakening the soul.
• This world is for doing; rest has its place, but it is not the goal.
• Purposeful action creates momentum, meaning, and inner strength.

Unlocking the Ancient Secrets: How Hebrew, Torah, and Jewish Wisdom Answer Humanity’s Deepest Questions

In a world buzzing with scientific breakthroughs and prophetic whispers, one question echoes louder than ever: Why does the scientific community overlook the Hebrew language—the oldest traceable tongue in human history—and the profound wisdom of the Torah? As Gregg Braden unveils astonishing DNA discoveries that mirror ancient Jewish texts, and podcasters like George Noory on Coast to Coast AM probe the mysteries of existence, it’s time to turn to the guardians of this knowledge: the Jewish people.

From the Ebla tablets affirming biblical narratives to prophecies unfolding in real-time, like the Star of Jacob and the onset of Gog and Magog, the Torah declares, “I have told you the end from the beginning” (Isaiah 46:10). This blog dives deep into how Hebrew and the Torah are revealing scientific truths and prophetic realities, proving that all Gregg Braden and George Noory seek is preserved in Jewish tradition. As the Chief Rabbi’s perspective illuminates, we are here not for passive wonder, but for action—tikkun olam, repairing the world through mitzvot.

The Primordial Language: Hebrew as the DNA of Creation

Scientists widely acknowledge that the earliest reconstructed languages stem from Proto-Semitic roots, dating back over 5,000 years. Yet, they hesitate to crown Hebrew as the original, despite its unbroken chain from ancient inscriptions to modern usage. Why this reluctance? The Torah boldly claims Hebrew as the language of Hashem—the divine code through which the universe was spoken into being (Genesis 1).

In Gregg Braden’s groundbreaking video, “This DNA Discovery Is Completely Beyond Imagination,” he reveals a pattern in human DNA where the atomic masses of its bases (hydrogen, carbon, nitrogen, oxygen) translate via ancient Hebrew letter values to “God Eternal Within the Body”—echoing the sacred name YHWH.

Braden draws directly from the Sefer Yetzirah (Book of Formation), a foundational Jewish mystical text attributed to Abraham, which describes creation through 22 Hebrew letters and divine permutations. This isn’t a coincidence; the odds, as Braden calculates, defy random evolution. If Hebrew encodes life’s blueprint, why ignore the Bible?

Archaeological evidence abounds: The Ebla tablets, unearthed in Syria in the 1970s, contain over 15,000 cuneiform texts from 2500 BCE that reference biblical places like Sodom and Gomorrah, and even “Ya” (a form of YHWH). These artifacts corroborate Tanach narratives word-for-word, from patriarchal names to geographic details.

Yet mainstream science dismisses them as cultural artifacts rather than divine testimony. The Jewish sages, however, have safeguarded this: The Talmud (Sanhedrin 21b) affirms Hebrew as the holy tongue, used by Hashem at Sinai to address three million witnesses—a mass revelation unmatched by any other faith.

George Noory often explores ancient wisdom on Coast to Coast AM, asking why humanity holds such secrets. The answer lies with the Jewish people, the “seed of the woman” (Genesis 3:15), tasked with guarding Torah’s light amid exile and persecution. As Braden seeks the “people who hold the secret of why we are here,” he unknowingly points to Israel—the nation that has preserved Sefer Yetzirah and Kabbalistic teachings for millennia.

Prophetic Revelations: From Zohar to Modern Fulfillments

The Torah doesn’t just explain origins; it foretells the end. We’re witnessing the dawn of Gog and Magog—the cataclysmic war of nations against Israel (Ezekiel 38-39), signaled by Damascus’s prophesied destruction (Isaiah 17:1) and global disruptions. The Star of Jacob (Numbers 24:17) emerges as a harbinger: “A star shall step forth from Jacob, and a scepter shall rise out of Israel.” Jewish sages interpret this as the Messiah’s advent, crushing enemies and ushering in peace. In recent years, astronomical events and political upheavals—think Middle East tensions and a figure disrupting world governments—align eerily. Could this point to leaders like President Trump, whose policies (Jerusalem embassy move, Abraham Accords) stirred global wars and divisions? Prophecy suggests a precursor who “causes the whole world to go to war or disrupt all the governments,” paving the way for redemption.

A pivotal prophecy from the Zohar demands attention, especially for the Christian world. The Zohar (Vayera 119a) describes a time when a “donkey-riding king” arrives humbly, but not as Christianity claims. Rabbi Palanov (likely referring to scholarly critiques by figures like Rabbi Tovia Singer or Rabbi Pinchas Winston) dismantles the Christian reading of Zechariah 9:9: “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion… your king comes to you… humble and riding on a donkey.”

Christians see this as Jesus’ triumphal entry, but the verse’s context (9:10) promises universal peace—”He shall speak peace to the nations; his dominion from sea to sea”—which was unfulfilled in Jesus’ era.

Wars persisted; no global shalom ensued. The Zohar presents this as a future Messianic king from David’s line, bringing true redemption after tribulations such as Gog and Magog. Jewish tradition holds that Zechariah’s vision cannot be Jesus, as the prophet foresees a warrior-king ending chariots and bows, not a crucified figure.

This wisdom has been “held and guarded” by Jews for generations. Why? Because Israel is the “servant” in Isaiah’s prophecies—the collective suffering redeemer.

Isaiah 53: The Suffering Servant as the Jewish People

No passage stirs more debate than Isaiah 53, often co-opted by Christianity as a portrait of Jesus. Yet, the Hebrew text and context scream otherwise: “He was despised and rejected by men… he bore our illnesses… wounded for our transgressions.” The chapter describes a “servant” emerging from obscurity, shocking kings with unforeseen exaltation (Isaiah 52:13-15). Who is this? Not an individual, but Israel—the nation Hashem calls “My servant” repeatedly (Isaiah 41:8, 44:1).

The quote you shared captures it: “He grew up like a sapling before Him, like a root from dry ground… Despised and rejected… Indeed, he bore our illnesses…” (Isaiah 53:2-5). Jewish sages like Rashi explain this as the Jewish people’s exile—persecuted, afflicted, yet bearing the world’s sins through faithfulness to Torah. Pogroms, Holocaust, and inquisitions: Israel as the “man of pains” heals humanity by modeling ethical monotheism. The “wound” (chaburah) brings shalom—our survival testifies to divine providence. Christianity’s lens ignores the plural “servants” in Isaiah 52-54, where Israel collectively atones.

The second video you referenced, on Parshat Bo, underscores Judaism as the system preserving these traditions. Matzah symbolizes urgent action—leaving Egypt’s spiritual inertia. We’re here for deeds: Mitzvot transform the mundane into holy. As Mesilat Yesharim teaches, true purpose is to earn divine closeness by overcoming trials.

Answering Gregg and George: Why We’re Here—for Action

Gregg Braden asks: If DNA holds a divine message, who preserved this wisdom? George Noory probes: What’s the secret of existence? The Jewish people, history’s most resilient family, hold the keys. Despite comprising 0.2% of the world, Jews have won 22% of Nobel Prizes—testimony to Torah’s intellectual fire. Sefer Yetzirah, which Braden cites, teaches creation via letters, aligning with quantum physics’ observer effect and string theory’s vibrations.

Science ignores the Bible because it demands faith in revelation over empiricism alone. But evidence mounts: Quantum entanglement mirrors Kabbalah’s interconnected sefirot; Big Bang echoes “Let there be light.” Prophecies fulfill: Israel’s rebirth (Isaiah 66:8), ingathering exiles (Ezekiel 37), nations dividing the land (Joel 3:2)—all amid Gog and Magog’s stirrings in Ukraine, Middle East, and global alliances.

We are here for action. Torah isn’t theory; it’s blueprint. Love your neighbor (Leviticus 19:18), pursue justice, awaken the divine spark. As the Chief Rabbi might say: “Hashem told the end from the beginning—now act to hasten redemption.”

In conclusion, Hebrew and Torah unveil science and prophecy as one. From DNA codes to the Star of Jacob, Jewish wisdom answers all. Ignore it no longer; embrace action. What questions linger for you?

Hazan Gavriel ben David. Synagogue Beit Hashoavah. YouTube Channel Hazan Gavriel ben David

“Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, and that he was buried, and that he was raised on the third day, according to the Scriptures” (1 Cor 15:3–4) Table

Gage, W. A. (2011). Milestones to Emmaus: The Third Day Resurrection in the Old Testament (pp. iv – v). Warren A. Gage.

How is this the meaning of Daniel? Where is the burial and resurrection?

Warren Gage offers one of his most detailed and elaborate typological interpretations in this milestone. He constructs a timeline that stretches the events of Daniel 6 into a three-day sequence:

• Day 1: Daniel prays three times, is accused, and is condemned under the unalterable decree.
• Day 2: The conspirators report him; the king labors to deliver him until evening, but cannot.
• Day 3: Daniel is cast into the den that night; the king comes early the third day, the stone is removed, and Daniel is lifted out unharmed.

Gage then draws extensive parallels to Jesus:

• Daniel’s innocence and envy-driven accusation → Jesus’ innocence and envy of religious leaders (Matt 27:18).
• King Darius bound by unalterable law → Pilate bound by higher powers.
• Daniel’s three daily prayers → Jesus’ three prayers in Gethsemane.
• Stone sealed over the den → stone sealed over Jesus’ tomb.
• Daniel emerges unharmed on the third-day morning, “lifted up” → Jesus rises on the third day.
• Accusers thrown in and destroyed → Jesus’ enemies judged.
• Daniel exalted to rule → Jesus exalted to God’s right hand.
• King’s decree to all nations → Gospel to all nations.

He even notes “not one of his bones was broken” (Dan 6:22–23; cf. John 19:36) and Daniel’s prosperity/exaltation (Dan 6:28). Gage presents this as a “remarkable preview of the gospel” and a clear third-day resurrection type.

From the perspective of the original Aramaic/Hebrew text of Daniel 6, its historical and literary context, and traditional Jewish exegesis, this milestone does not withstand scrutiny as a prophetic foreshadowing of Jesus’ death, burial, and resurrection on the third day. The “third day” chronology is artificially imposed, and the episode lacks the core elements of death, burial, and resurrection.

1. There Is No Actual “Three-Day” Sequence in the Text—Daniel Is in the Den for Only One Night

• The text is explicit about timing: Daniel is cast into the den that night after the conspirators press the king (Dan 6:16).
• The king spends the night fasting and sleepless (v. 18).
• Very early in the morning (בְּשַׁפְרְפָרָא / b’shaprapara, “at dawn”), the king goes to the den (v. 19) and finds Daniel alive.
• Daniel is immediately “taken up out of the den” (v. 23).

This is one night (roughly 12–18 hours), not three days. Gage creates the “three days” by counting backward from the accusation/prayer day, inserting an extra day of the king’s “laboring,” but the narrative flows continuously without such a gap. The king hears the accusation, tries to deliver Daniel “until the going down of the sun” (v. 14), then immediately commands that Daniel be cast in that same evening. There is no full second day of imprisonment.

Contrast with Jesus: literal death on Friday afternoon, burial before sunset, in the tomb all of Saturday (full day + nights), rising early Sunday morning—counted as “three days” in Jewish inclusive reckoning (part of Friday + Saturday + part of Sunday).

2. Daniel Never Dies, Is Never Buried, and Does Not Rise from Death

• Daniel is thrown into a lion’s den (a pit/cave-like enclosure), not a grave/tomb.
• A stone is placed over the mouth and sealed (v. 17)—a parallel Gage emphasizes—but this is to prevent escape or tampering, not to entomb a corpse.
• Daniel remains alive the entire time; God’s angel shuts the lions’ mouths (v. 22). He is “taken up” (הַסְּקִיל / hasqil, “lifted out”) unharmed—no death or resurrection occurs.
• The phrase “not one of his bones was broken” (v. 23, implied by “no injury whatever was found on him”) is protective deliverance, not post-mortem preservation (contrast Ps 34:20 applied to Jesus in John 19:36).

This is a story of divine protection from death, not resurrection after death.

3. Jewish Interpretation Emphasizes Faithfulness, Divine Deliverance, and God’s Sovereignty—Not Resurrection Typology

• Rabbinic sources (Talmud, Midrash, Rashi, Ibn Ezra, etc.) highlight:
• Daniel’s unwavering prayer life despite danger (three times daily as a model for Jewish prayer).
• The king’s distress and the power of an unchangeable decree.
• Miraculous angelic intervention and the reversal of fate (accusers destroyed).
• The spread of God’s fame to all nations (Dan 6:26–27).
• No classical Jewish commentary treats the lions’ den as a “third-day resurrection” type or messianic prophecy in the Christian sense. The “morning” deliverance is immediate vindication, not a three-day motif.
• The book of Daniel is apocalyptic and exilic literature, focused on faithfulness under persecution (similar to Esther, Joseph), not explicit messianic resurrection patterns.

4. The Parallels Are Selective and Overstretched

• “Three times a day” prayer → three prayers in Gethsemane: The text says Daniel prayed three times daily “as was his custom” (v. 10)—a lifelong habit, not a special preparation for this trial.
• Stone and seals: Common ancient prison/security measures; not uniquely tomb-like.
• Exaltation and worldwide decree: Daniel is already a high official; his promotion is confirmed, but the king’s edict praises God, not Daniel personally.
• These elements make for compelling typology only when read backward through the lens of the Gospels.

Conclusion on Milestone 6

Daniel 6 is one of the most beloved and powerful narratives in the Tanach: a righteous man faces death for his faith, is miraculously preserved by God, and God’s name is glorified among the nations. It teaches profound lessons about prayer, integrity under pressure, and divine deliverance. However, it does not depict a “third day resurrection.” Daniel never dies, spends only one night in the den, and is delivered alive the next morning. The “three days” chronology is an artificial construction that the text itself does not support.

Gage’s reading continues the pattern we’ve seen across all milestones: a creative, post-resurrection Christian typology that imposes a death-burial-resurrection framework onto narratives that, in their original context and plain meaning, simply do not contain it. The Tanach here speaks of deliverance from death, not resurrection after death.

Next is Milestone 7: Esther Delivered from Death on the Third Day