Tu B’Shevat and Passover: The Cross is our Tree of Life

 

by Geert ter Horst

Tu B’Shevat, the New Year of Trees, is the first sign on the Calendar that the solemnities of Passover are approaching. Passover always falls in the Spring season and Tu B’Shevat is the earliest indicator of Spring. It is the time when in Eretz Yisrael the tree fruits become visible, and here, in the North-West of Europe, the first buds shoot up. The Sages have determined this date, the 15^th of Shevat, as the beginning of the agricultural “fiscal year”. The annual and triennial tithings, and the laws of orlah, are to be reckoned from this date.

In the course of time Tu B’Shevat developed into a minor festival, and in the 17^th century some kabbalistic groups have introduced the idea of a Tu B’Shevat Seder, in which the seven fruits of the Land — wheat, barley, grapes, figs, pomegranates, olives, and dates — and numerous other tree fruits are consumed in a ritual order.

Tu B’Shevat is also the natural starting point for the big annual job that must be performed before we are able to properly celebrate Passover: the thorough cleansing of the house and the removal of chametz from all parts of our domain.

Although I don’t look favourably on kabbalistic philosophy and certainly don’t want to follow kabbalistic ritual symbolism, yet I have to admit that the basic thought of a Tu B’Shevat Seder as a special meal marking the tithing date and introducing the time of preparation for Passover is sensible from a messianic viewpoint. The Passover of Messiah is about leaving the realm of sin and death, symbolized in chametz, through Yeshua’s sacrifice, and about introducing the realm of purity and immortality, symbolized in matzah, through Yeshua’s resurrection. Sin entered our world by an act of eating from a tree. The victory over sin also was obtained by means of a tree, on that day when Messiah hung on a tree and took upon himself the curse on sin pronounced by the Torah (Dt. 21:22-23; Gal. 3:13).

What is the relation between the introduction of sin by means of a tree, the tree of knowledge of good an evil, and the victory over sin by means of another tree, the Cross of Messiah?

Through his Cross and Passion, Messiah became the Tree of Life for all those who put their trust in him. According to an old legend, Seth, the son of Adam, after his father died, received from the Cherubim guarding the Garden of Eden, a branch of the tree of good and evil from which Chavah had eaten the forbidden fruit, as a warning reminder against the path of evil. The pious Seth planted this branch on the burial place of Adam, which later would be named Golgotha. It is said that the Cross of Messiah was made from the wood of this tree.

The legend makes sense. Essentially it tells us the same truth as the biblical story, namely that Messiah took upon him the consequence of sin, which is death, and thus through his death destroyed the power of death, because as completely sinlesss, he was worthy to be resurrected to eternal life. As a result of his work the destructive forces of evil in the end will be removed from the universe. When the Apostle Yochanan in the Apocalypse tells us about his vision of the City of God, he mentions the tree of life: “In the midst of the street of it, and on either side of the river, was the tree of life” (Apoc. 22:2). While in the midst of the Garden of Eden there were two trees (Gen. 2:9), here is only one. In the beginning there were two, the tree of life and the tree of knowledge of good and evil. In the end there will be only the tree of life.

In the beginning man had access to both trees. He didn’t have to die because he had access to the tree of life. By his wrong choice to eat from the tree of knowledge of good and evil he lost his access to the tree of life and was subjected to the power of death. Through Messiah’s death and resurrection the effects of this wrong choice were reversed, and the dead wood of the Cross in a sense became our tree of life. In the renewed creation of the resurrection the tree of knowledge of good and evil is no more.

We as believers are fruits of the Tree of Life, i.e. fruits of the Cross of Messiah. The resurrected Messiah himself is the first fruits, because he inherits eternal life by his own merit. As included in him we are sanctified in the first fruits, and inherit eternal life by his grace.

The festival of Tu B’Shevat for Messianics thus highlights our inclusion in Messiah as the first fruits (cf. I Cor. 15:20). In him who is fully dedicated to HaShem we are acceptable too (cf. Lev. 19:23-25).

For the liturgical year Tu B’Shevat has an important function. By reminding us of the approaching season of Passover, it encourages us to start the process of cleansing, which not only applies to our houses but also to our hearts and our daily walk of life. The time between Tu B’Shevat and Passover is particularly fit to help us in identifying with the sufferings of Messiah and making us ardent in our efforts of removing all traces of sin. The festival of Purim, which occurs during this time of preparation, is in line with it and gives it additional weight. Historically, the fast of Esther was right before Passover (cf. Est. 3:12; 4:15-16), and the hanging of Haman the wicked occurred at Passover (cf. Est. 5:1-8; 7:1-10). Purim has thus its own close connection to Passover, and the defeat of the wicked Haman symbolizes and anticipates the defeat of the serpent and his seed, i.e. the devil and all the forces of evil.

That the crucified Messiah is our Tree of Life is beautifully expressed in a famous hymn of Venantius Fortunatus (VI^th century), which can be sung at the Tu B’Shevat Seder.

Faithful Cross, above all other,
One and only noble Tree,
None in foliage, none in blossom,
None in fruit thy peer may be;
Sweet the wood, and sweet the iron,
And thy load, most sweet is he.

Bend, O lofty Tree, thy branches,
Thy too rigid sinews bend;
And awhile the stubborn hardness,
Which thy birth bestowed, suspend;
And the limbs of heaven’s high Monarch
Gently on thine arms extend.

Thou alone wast counted worthy
This world’s Ransom to sustain,
That a shipwrecked race for ever
Might a port of refuge gain,
With the sacred Blood anointed
Of the Lamb for sinners slain.

On the Problem of “Holy Communion” in a Messianic Passover Seder (Part I)

 

by Geert ter Horst

A couple of weeks before Passover I purchased FFOZ’s Vine of David Haggadah and I have studied it with great interest. This Haggadah is beautifully designed and contains a lot of valuable suggestions on the messianic celebration of Passover within a format that is faithful to the traditional Seder and its liturgical rubrics as developed in Jewish tradition.

My study of this Haggadah brought a problem to mind, however, that is common to messianic Haggadot in general and which doesn’t seem to be easily solvable. It is a problem hardly acknowledged in messianic circles, but which in my opinion is important enough to deserve a fundamental discussion.

The problem I’m referring to is about the inclusion of “Holy Communion”, or the Lord’s Supper, in the Passover Seder. All the messianic Haggadot I have seen have — in a more or less explicit manner — the Lord’s Supper included in the Seder proceedings. And from the viewpoint, shared by many, which considers Yeshua’s Last Supper to have been a Passover Seder this inclusion seems only natural. The point which I want to make here, however, is that, independent from the historical question whether the Last Supper was in fact a Seder or not — and the whole controversy about it — there are perhaps theological and halachic difficulties involved in celebrating Yeshua’s Supper at the Seder.

The problem I’m referring to is largely independent of the liturgical question whether the words of Yeshua: “this is my body, &c” are to be recited over the Matzah at the beginning of the Shulchan Orech section, at HaMotzi Matzah, or that they should specifically apply to the Afikoman and thus be recited at Tzafun. As to the cup, I have not noticed any controversy about it and all seem to agree that it is the third cup, the cup of thanksgiving, over which Yeshua’s words: “this is my blood &c” should be recited.

The (unintended) consequence common to all messianic efforts to include the Lord’s Supper in the Seder liturgy seems to be the necessitated acceptance of what is commonly called “child communion”, since all participants in the Seder are to eat from the Matzah — both at HaMotzi Matzah and at Tzafun — and all are to drink from the third cup. This is the essential problem involved in including the Supper in the Seder. Although I’m fully prepared to investigate the question of child communion, and to consider the theological arguments in favour of it, for the time being I have my reservations, which are based on the following, more general ecclesiological considerations.

To me the Assembly of Messiah is a community to which one belongs on the basis of faith, not on the basis of natural birth or education, and I think this fact has to be honoured and marked by the manner in which the typical rituals of this community are performed. These typical rituals are primarily water immersion in Yeshua’s name, (i.e. what is traditionally called “Baptism”) and the celebration of Yeshua’s Supper (i.e. what is traditionally called “Holy Communion”). And it seems to me a matter of logic that the admission to the second ritual is dependent on the fact of having received the first. A person who isn’t baptized cannot partake of the Supper because he is not a recognized member of the community. And because Baptism is to be administered on the basis of personal faith, it has a status that is importantly different from many Torah rituals.

One can easily detect this difference. For the sake of simplicity let us limit ourselves here to the Jewish context and take, as an example, a Jewish boy whose parents are believers in Messiah and members of a Torah observant messianic congregation. This boy is to receive Brit Milah on the eight day and Pidyon HaBen on the  31^st — if he is the firstborn of his mother —, and to become Bar Mitzvah on his thirteenth birthday, simply because he is Jewish. These rituals are fixed by Torah laws and customs and wholly independent of the faith of the person who receives them. This is not so with Baptism. There is no fixed date set for it, and the only thing that matters about receiving it is a living faith and the personal decision to belong to Yeshua and follow him. As soon as a person is baptized he is a “professed” (i.e. confessing) member of Yeshua’s Assembly and admitted to the community meal of this Assembly, which is the Lord’s Supper. The celebration of the Supper always expresses — or at least should express — the unity of the Assembly as the mystical body of Messiah. This is an aspect of the Supper strongly present in Paul’s teachings on it (cf. I Cor. 10:17).

Therefore it seems to me that children or youths who are not yet baptized should not be admitted to the Lord’s Supper. They cannot legitimately partake of the Supper before having made the personal decision to belong to Yeshua and having expressed this decision by the public act of water immersion in Yeshua’s name. That’s the reason why I think the Supper and the Seder cannot simply be held to be one and the same. They are essentially distinct celebrations. For it is clear that Jewish children should participate in the celebration of the Seder, eat the Matzah and drink of the cups, since in importants respects the Seder is about them and concentrates on the role of children. To deny them particular features of the celebration, e.g. the Afikoman or the third cup, requires convincing halachic grounds and does not seem, at the outset, to be a viable option. On the basis of the Torah Jewish children are fully entitled to partake, for instance, of the Afikoman, by which is signified the now absent Korban Pesach.

Although I’m personally of the opinion that the historical Last Supper was not a Passover Seder — but was held shortly before Seder night, probably the night before — and also that the Apostle Paul doesn’t identify the two, this is not my main point. My point is about theological and liturgical systematics, not about history. The Assembly of Messiah, being a community of faith, is a distinct body within Israel as a nation to which one belongs by natural birth, and, as it is clear that one cannot administer Baptism in Yeshua’s name on the basis of natural birth or on a family basis, so too one cannot celebrate the Supper on this basis. The Supper and Baptism are rituals which can only be administered on the basis of a confession of personal faith.

Yet it is also clear, apart from the historical question of the exact date of the institution of the Supper, that, from a liturgical viewpoint, there is no occasion more appropriate for its celebration than the Seder, which, by its rich symbolism, in many ways points to Messiah’s suffering and death and their salvific effects. That’s the reason why it is worth considering whether a solution for the problem of child communion can be found within the framework of the existing messianic practice of celebrating Yeshua’s Supper during the Seder night. While it is obvious that some changes would be required here and there in the traditional Seder procedures, and thus in the Haggadah, to make such a solution possible, it is no less obvious that any possible change should be carefully studied on its theological and halachic implications. It cannot be the intention of a messianic Haggadah to disregard the halachic background of the liturgical rubrics of the Seder, since the entire structure of the Seder is highly dependent on this background.

Although some may bring up here that the Seder procedures in our days are almost completely a matter of the Oral Torah and rabbinic legislation and can be disregarded by Messianics, this seemingly impressive argument is really a very poor affair and potentially destructive of any orderly regulation of the celebration of Passover. If one wants to avoid chaos and arbitrariness, and preserve a minimum of consistency and uniformity in messianic celebrations, then there’s no other realistic option than to take recourse to rabbinic halachah. In cases where changes are necessary one has thus to proceed on the basis of a solid halachic analysis.

Our problem can now be formulated as the following question: Is it possible to celebrate the Lord’s Supper at the Passover Seder without accepting the consequence of “child-communion”, and without destroying the basic halachic framework of the Seder precedures? I hope soon to investigate the possible answers (in Part II).

On the Celebration of Passover: Some Liturgical and Calendrical Issues Addressed. Part One — General Observations

 

by Geert ter Horst

In traditional Christianity the celebration of the passion, death and resurrection of Messiah Yeshua, although it is part of every celebration of our Lord’s Supper, finds its concentration in the yearly liturgical solemnities of the triduum paschale. “The term triduum paschale” as remarked by Wesley Scott Biddy, “refers to the three days — Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday — in which Christ instituted the Eucharist and underwent his passion and death, leading up to the resurrection of Easter Sunday”.[1]

In Messianic Judaism this traditional Christian scheme is generally not followed, although some leaders have no objection against it when Gentile Christians retain this Catholic liturgical pattern. Dr. David Stern writes in his Jewish New Testament Commentary:

During Holy Week, which memoralizes the last days of Yeshua’s life and his resurrection, Maundy Thursday commemorates the Last Supper, which was a Passover Seder; thus almost any Maundy Thursday ritual bears some relationship to that of Pesach. I have in my files about a dozen Christian Haggadahs (Passover liturgies); they display varying degrees of resemblance to the Jewish original. Whether their fidelity to the Jewish Haggadah is greater or less is of no religious significance. Whatever brings the Gentile Christian worshipper closer to God, or makes his behavior more godly, should be judged positively; the Jewishness of the ritual and ceremony is a matter of religious indifference.[2]

Many in the Messianic Jewish world, Jewish believers as well as Gentile Christians, who have rediscovered the lifestyle of the Torah,[3] would consider Sterns words as problematic. In particular those leaders and ministries who, with us, argue in favour of the “One Law” position will find that Stern’s words offer an excuse for “self-imposed worship” (Col 2:23, NIV). The “One Law” position states that G-d has to be worshipped according to the guidelines found in the Torah. This implies that Yeshua’s passion, death and resurrection should be celebrated by observing the calendrical season of Passover and the festival of the Unleavened Bread of Lev. 23 and the other commandments of the Torah that apply to this time of the liturgical year.

The Torah observant position thus causes huge changes in observance from the point of view of established Christian tradition. In messianic circles these changes are not always carefully studied in relation to the central position of the person of Yeshua. In their enthusiasm for the Torah many leaders of congregations have simply copied what they knew about the Jewish way of celebrating the Passover season, without duly considering both the halachic and spiritual consequences of such a change. This has led to peculiar and unequilibrious practices that don’t do justice to the great and impressive events we commemorate at this time.

To mention only a minor point, it is well known that in traditional Christianity the sobriety of the season of Lent is a preparation for the awe-inspiring solemnities of Holy Week leading up to the joy of the resurrection on Easter Sunday. Thus the great final events of Messiah’s life are made lively present within the framework of liturgical time. The question how this chain of events is exactly reflected in the Jewish calendar is often not addressed properly by Messianics. Instead, discussions about the calendar and the liturgical structure of the Passover season have helped to create an unnecessary atmosphere of confusion around the Passover celebrations that should be dealt with by a new effort to place all the aspects involved in their proper context. This study is intended to make a contribution to such a renewed effort of grasping the great riches that are given to us by HaShem in the celebration of this highly important season of the year that contains at its heart and centre the “night to be much observed” (Ex. 12:42, KJV).

In Messianic Judaism the debate about the celebration of Passover suffers a lot of confusion for a number of reasons. First, there is confusion about the biblical calendar in general, and a considerable number of Messianics seem to have the opinion that the biblical calendar is something very different from the current Jewish calendar, and that this current calendar lacks all scriptural legitimacy. Second, and more important, Messianics in general are not used to a lifestyle of liturgical observance. This is even true, it seems, for the majority of those Messianics who favour Torah observance. Due to the fact that many Messianics were raised in some form of evangelical Christianity they don’t have a developed “feeling” for proper liturgical observance, and are not used to think through questions of observance from a liturgical point of view.

The two divisive questions at present in the Messianic Community with regard to Passover season are mainly the following: 1) the question whether the Last Supper of Yeshua was a Passover Seder, and 2) the question from which day on the Omer should be counted. We have dealt with the second question in a series of articles on this blog. We hope to continue this series with some concluding articles on the historical developments in the Jewish calendar and the Omer count during and after the first century.

The present article opens a new series in which we’ll concentrate on the question whether the Last Supper was a Passover Seder. We intend to bring the solutions to the two questions together in a later stage of our examinations and introduce the liturgical viewpoint as an additional element of heuristic value. When our solutions to these questions results in a beautiful and sensible liturgical schedule of events and celebrations we’ll have gained confirmatory evidence that what we propose may be correct.

______________

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[1] Wesley Scott Biddy, Towards an Ecumenical Understanding of the Eucharist: A Proposal for Pentecostals. A thesis submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the Master of Theology degree, Duke Divinity School — Durham, North Carolina 2005, p. 30 (n. 50). Downloadable at: http://dukespace.lib.duke.edu/dspace/bitstream/10161/462/1/Wesley%20Scott%20Biddy,%20ThM%20thesis.pdf

[2] David Stern, Jewish New Testament Commentary: A companion volume to the Jewish New Testament, Jewish New Testament Publications, Inc. — Clarksville, Maryland 1995 (1992), p. 558.

[3] Cf. Ariel and D’vorah Berkowitz, Torah Rediscovered: Challenging Centuries of Misinterpretation and Neglect, First Fruits of Zion — Littleton, Colorado 1996. This book contains a foreword by Dr. David Stern.

The Three Removals of Chametz

by Geert ter Horst

 

Between Purim and Pesach we are occupied with the mitzvah of removing chametz from our possessions in preparation of the festival of Matzot. When we study the laws of Pesach the detailed and complicated nature of this process of removal strikes our mind. And we ask ourselves: Why does the halachah distinguish three stages in the removal of chametz? First, there is the physical and legal removal by destroying and selling our chametz; then the removal by the declaration bitul chametz on the 14th of Nisan; and finally the removal that occurs by the arrival of the festival itself, on the eve of Nisan 15, or, more precisely, at the time designated by the Torah for slaughtering the korban Pesach, for it is said (Ex. 34:25): “Thou shalt not offer the blood of my sacrifice with leaven”.

At first sight, it seems senseless to have three kinds of removal for one and the same thing. Removing chametz seems to be a relatively simple affair, which doesn’t involve complex legal distinctions. The Sages thought differently, however, and they made a number of rulings concerning the correct manner of removing chametz. In this article we’ll try to find out more about the halachic details they discovered.

The main key to understand the differences between the three stages of removing chametz is that bitul chametz is understood by the Rabbis to be a reality of the heart or the intention. Bitul is about the correct performance of the scriptural commandment of the removal of all chametz from “all thy borders” on the 14th of Nisan. Since this commandment cannot be literally carried out to its full extent, it was interpreted by the Sages as a removal on the level of the intention. Bitul was perceived as a mental renunciation of chametz, i.e. a legal declaration that causes it to become ownerless. This declaration is independent of actual physical removal. It is primarily intended to cover the chametz which has escaped our attention at the preceding destruction and selling during the Pesach cleansing which was already done before the 14th of Nisan.

Now, since by scriptural commandment one may not use or handle chametz once the first Yom Tov of Pesach has arrived, one can also no longer legally recite bitul, since bitul itself is a manner of “handling” chametz, of doing something with it, namely making it ownerless. The complication that arises here is that there exists another halachic rule, which tells us that should it, unfortunately, happen that a person discovers chametz during the festival, he is still under the obligation of physically removing or destroying it. One would expect that this last mentioned removal would be considered as halachically impossible, since after bitul no handling of chametz is permitted. But this consequence doesn’t follow from the perspective of the Sages. How can their ruling be explained?

The essence of bitul is the scriptural commandment, which is, as I said, perceived to be on the intentional level. Did the Sages perhaps view the rule to physically remove chametz that is found during the festival as an additional rabbinic enactment? This would mean that, although the recitation of bitul causes loss of ownership on the scriptural level, it doesn’t cause loss of ownership on the level of the rabbinic law.

This explanation is untenable, however, since the additional destruction of chametz detected during the festival is considered by the Ran (i.e. Rabbi Nissi ben Reuven (1320 – 1380 CE) to be  a scriptural law. And this seems to be the common opinion. Moreover, the proposed solution causes the obvious problem that a person is owner of chametz according to the rabbinic law during the entire period of the festival. For it is not clear how and when this ownership ever ceases when it doesn’t end at bitul.

I would be glad if someone would be able to throw light on this complicated and paradoxical detail. For if the removal of chametz which was found during the festival is a scriptural commandment, it requires a handling of chametz not on the basis of ownership, a particularity which raises new difficulties. The only solution that I can imagine for the moment is to assume that it is perhaps the discovery itself here which causes a renewed ownership, even after bitul. If this assumption is correct, then the concept that there is a scriptural obligation to remove chametz found during the festival can be explained, since we are scripturally under the obligation not to have chametz in our possession during these seven days (Ex. 12:19; Dt. 16:4). For it can hardly be grasped how we are obligated to remove chametz that isn’t ours and has no owner. Making chametz ownerless was the very intention of bitul, which was based on the idea that it is ownership which causes responsibility.

However that may be, a consequence of the halachic line of thought is that the physical removal and destruction of chametz which, for practical reasons, takes place before the 14th of Nisan, is a rabbinic instruction, not a scriptural commandment. The reason why it is not a scriptural commandment is that Scripture commands us to remove all leavened items on the 14th of Nisan. So removing them before that date cannot be a commandment on the scriptural level. And thus the whole process of the actual removal and selling of chametz, which takes place before the 14th, is something on the rabbinic level. The fulfilment of bitul on the 14th of Nisan thus doesn’t make the preceding removal and selling of chametz superfluous, because the fulfilment of a scriptural commandment doesn’t imply the fulfilment of a rabbinic commandment.

A detail of bitul is that it should be performed twice. First, on the eve of the 14th of Nisan, after bedikat chametz. Bitul should be performed a second time at daytime, after the burning of chametz (biur chametz). The reason for the recitation of bitul at the beginning of the 14th is that a commandment should be performed as soon as the legal time for it has arrived. It should not be postponed. The reason why bitul should still be recited a second time at noon is that the formula used for the first recitation doesn’t include all chametz, since one may still eat chametz during the 14th of Nisan, until noon. Therefore, the recitation formulas are slightly different. The first mentions only the chametz which is not known to one, while the second includes all chametz, known or unknown. The first recitation thus doesn’t include the known chametz that a person has destined for consumption on the 14th. The second recitation does include known chametz, since it is recognized by him that inevitably some crumbs from the final chametz meal will remain undetected and thus unremovable.

The sense and purpose of the threefold removal of chametz thus is the following. Since the scriptural commandment is to have all chametz removed from our borders on the 14th of Nisan, and it is impossible to literally carry out this commandment to its full extent, it is necessary to have the physical activity of removing already completed before the 14th of Nisan arrives, and to interpret the removal of the 14th of Nisan itself (bitul) as mainly taking place on the level of the intention of the heart. An additional “removal” occurs at the time of slaughtering the korban Pesach. From then on it is scripturally prohibited either to use chametz or to have it in one’s possession, whether one has performed bitul or not. Bitul is necessary to ensure that one doesn’t transgress this prohibition. The physical removal of chametz before bitul is necessary to ensure that bitul is performed with the right intention of the heart.

Personally, I find it a peculiar result that, according to this halachic framework, which seems rather tight and well thought out, the actual and physical removal of chametz is something on the rabbinic level only, and not, or only indirectly,  commanded by Scripture.

Minor Celebrations Between Pesach and Shavuot

Reflections on Lag Ba‘Omer and Ascension Day

by

Geert ter Horst

Traditionally, orthodox Jews between Pesach and Shavu‘ot celebrate a minor festival, Lag Ba‘Omer. This festival occurs on the 33^rd day of the Omer. Also traditionally, Christians celebrate a festival on the 40^th day after Yeshua’s resurrection, Ascension Day. The question thus presents itself whether Torah observant Messianics should celebrate these days, and if so, in what manner.

A calendrical difficulty must be clarified first. For, as we have pointed out in other articles — and as has been noticed by others — the orthodox Jewish method of counting the Omer is in conflict with Scripture.[i] And it needs no argument that the Gregorian method of calculating the calendar can afford no biblical basis for fixing the date of Ascension Day.

But this difficulty is only a minor one. Once the correct method of counting the Omer is established, it is easy to fix the 33^rd and the 40^th day of the count. If we start the Omer on the Sunday after 14 Nisan, which we have established as the biblical date, the two celebrations of Lag Ba‘Omer and Ascension Day occur on two succeeding Thursdays, during the fifth and the sixth weeks of the Omer respectively.

1. The reasons for celebrating Lag Ba‘Omer

The real difficulty is the biblical legitimation of these festivals. And in this respect Lag Ba‘Omer seems to be the more troubling case to defend, because within orthodox Judaism itself it has aroused discussion about its meaning. In the introductory remarks of the chapter on Lag Ba‘Omer in R. Shlomo Yosef Zevin’s important work: The Festivals in Halachah, it is said: “[…] Lag Ba‘Omer as a minor festival is somewhat clouded in mystery. Not only are we unsure of its reason, but unlike all other memorable days in the Jewish year, its name indicates neither the reason behind the festival (as, for instance, with Pesach, Sukkos, or Purim) nor its date (like Tu BiShvat, or the Tenth of Teves). The only indication of when the day occurs depends on the counting of the Omer, and if one were to forget or confuse this count the name would give no clue to the correct date”.[ii]

R. Zevin continues that “the first known reference to Lag BaOmer as a minor festival […] is found in certain of the Rishonim. No mention of this halachah is recorded in the geonic literature except that one Rishon (Meir) refers to it as a tradition handed down by the Geonim. In Meir’s commentary, Beis HaBechirah, at the place where the Talmud tells about the twelve thousand pairs of students of Rabbi Akiva who died between Pesach and Atzeres (Shavuos), the author relates, “It is a tradition of the Geonim, zal, that on Yom Lag BaOmer the deaths stopped, and that for this reason it is customary to refrain from fasting on this day.” It would seem that this is our earliest source for this holiday”.[iii]

In his article on “Practises of Mourning During Sefira”, Rav Yosef Zwi Rimon elaborates on this theme: “The Gemara in Yevamot (62b) tells that Rabbi Akiva had twelve thousand pairs of students from Gevat to Antipras. (This yields a sum total of 24,000; in the version found in Midrash Rabba, Bereishit 61:50, the word “pairs” does not appear, suggesting that he had twelve thousand students total.  On the other hand, the Gemara in Nedarim 50a records the number as 24,000 pairs.)  All these students died within a short period of time on account of the disrespect they afforded one another. As a result, writes the Gemara, the world “was desolate” from Torah study, until Rabbi Akiva traveled south and taught five outstanding disciples.  The Gemara then cites a source from the tanna’im that the students perished during the sefira period, in between Pesach and Shavuot.  (Later the Gemara writes that they died from a type of illness, but from the Yerushalmi it appears that they fell in the Bar-Kokhba revolt.  A complete discussion of this issue lies beyond the scope of our discussion.)”.[iv]

He adds an observation that reveals an embarrassment surrounding the celebration Lag Ba‘Omer: “Significantly, however, the Gemara mentions nothing of Lag Ba-omer in this context, implying that the deaths occurred throughout the entirety of the sefira period.  Secondly, this passage makes no indication of any practices of mourning to be observed to mark this tragedy”.[v]

R. Zevin refers to a multitude of motives connected with the celebration of Lag Ba‘Omer. Among these is a biblical one not often mentioned: “One 19^th-century authority who suggests that on this day we celebrate an event which took place at the very beginning of our history as a nation is the author of Chasam Sofer. This scholar dates the origins of the rejoicing connected with Lag Ba‘Omer at the early stages of the wandering of our forefathers in the wilderness. The Torah tells us (Exodus 16:3): “And they journeyed from Elim, and all the congregation of the Children of Israel came to the Wilderness of Sin, which is between Elim and Sinai, on the fifteenth day of the second month after their departure from the land of Egypt.” This was on the 15^th of Iyar. On the 16^th the people complained against Moshe and Aharon and all the elders, going as far to say: “We wish we had died by the hand of God in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the fleshpots and ate our fill of bread” (Exodus 16:3). On the 17^th of the month HaShem told Moshe that the Manna — the bread from heaven — would begin to fall on the next day, the 18^th of Iyar. This is the date of Lag Ba‘Omer”.[vi]

R. Zevin goes on to explain why this theme is not emphasized in the existing celebration customs of Lag Ba‘Omer: “Thus on this day we are in fact celebrating the miracle of the Manna — echoing the joy of our forefathers when for the first time they perceived this wonder. Since however the events preceding it do not reflect favorably on our ancestors, we make no reference to it”.[vii]

Although the attempt to date the first occurrence of the Manna on the 18^th of Iyar in R. Zevin’s quote of Chasam Sofer appears a bit forced — the Torah text only says that the Manna began soon after the 15^th and even apart from this uncertain date there is no biblical connection between the 33^rd day of the Omer and the calendar date of 18 Iyar — it is exactly this biblical theme of the Manna that contains a possible clue for a Messianic relevance of the festival. The bread from heaven is a well-known theme in the Apostolic Writings with clear references to Yeshua (cf. Jn. 6:26-58; Apoc. 2:17).

2. Messianic Relevance of the Day

From the fact that Yeshua is our bread of life descended from heaven we might have a first and somewhat speculative intuition about the number 33. Why is it the 33^rd day of the Omer that is so important?

We know that Yeshua’s earthly life lasted 33 years. It may thus be that we should view the first 33 days of the Omer as a kind of liturgical representation and recapitulation of Yeshua’s first mission, when he came down from heaven as the bread of life, according to Jn. 6:33: “For the bread of G-d is he which cometh down from heaven, and giveth life unto the world”.

A week later, on the 40^th day of the Omer, we celebrate Yeshua’s ascension, when he was elevated to the right hand of HaShem. This may indicate that Lag Ba‘Omer and Ascension Day symbolize two complementary and opposite movements in the ministry of Messiah. On Lag Ba‘Omer we are reminded of Messiah’s descending to this earth and of his earthly years; on Ascension Day we are reminded of his ascension to the Father. Ascension Day occurs on the eight day after Lag Ba‘Omer. The eight day symbolically refers to that which transcends this world, because there are only seven days in a week. The week of this creation symbolically signifies our existence in this world. The eight day signifies the World to Come.

Yeshua’s ascension occurs on the 40^th day after his resurrection. The number 40 is the number of trial and wandering, of preparation. The Israelites wandered through the desert during 40 years, before they were able to conquer the promised land. At the beginning of his ministry Yeshua was in the desert during a preparatory period of 40 days, to be tested and tempted (cf. Mt. 4:1; Mk. 1:12-13; Lk. 4:1-2). After his resurrection he began the second phase of his ministry. He went through another period of 40 days and was seen by the apostles, “speaking of the things pertaining to the kingdom of G-d” (Acts 1:3). During these days he instructed his talmidim and prepared them for their great mission that would begin at Shavu‘ot (Acts 1:4-5). After these 40 days he was taken up and entered the realm of Heaven, to be seated at the right hand of G-d (Mk. 16:19).

3. Anomalies in the Traditional Themes of the Day

Does the messianic interpretation of Lag Ba‘Omer make sense in the light of the traditional themes of this day? What are we to make for instance of the tradition of the twelve thousand pairs of students of Rabbi Akiva dying between Pesach and Shavu‘ot? This tradition has led to the acceptance of mourning practices during the Omer count. And this practice of mourning at first sight appears to stand in strong contrast, or opposition, to our joy about the resurrection of Messiah at this time. A number of additional observances of Lag Ba‘Omer, e.g. the traditional haircut, are related to this time of mourning, which is intermitted on this day. And how should we view still other observances connected with it, such as the lighting of bonfires and visiting the tomb of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai?

It is clear that we cannot accept these practices without duly screening their legitimacy and validity from a messianic viewpoint. We know that Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai was a student of Rabbi Akiva and that Rabbi Akiva was a determined adversary of the Jewish followers of Yeshua and that he tried to destroy them by proclaiming the false Messiah Bar Kochba. But perhaps we can make something of the events and observances associated with Lag Ba‘Omer by considering them from the viewpoint of their symbolic and perhaps somewhat hidden meaning. What are all these things about? There are reasons for asking this question, for there are a lot of difficulties and oddities in the traditional stories told about this day, and in the observances connected with them.

One of the conspicious anomalies is the abnormal and disproportional mourning over Rabbi Akiva’s dead students. As Rabbi Pinchas Stolper has attentively noticed: “Why does this event, the death of Rabbi Akiva’s students, tragic as it was, merit thirty-two days of mourning when greater tragedies in Jewish history, such as the destruction of both Temples or the breaking of the Stone Tablets of the Covenant by Moses, are marked by a single day of mourning. In terms of numbers, the massacres of the Spanish Inquisition, the Crusades, the Chemelnitsky progroms, and the Holocaust which destroyed European Jewry and cost six-million Jewish lives far overshadowed the death of Rabbi Akiva’s students. Yet, these tragic events are not commemorated by even one special day of mourning. Why is the death of Rabbi Akiva’s students given so much more weight?”.[viii] And he adds: “There also appear to be glaring inconsistencies in the story itself. What were Rabbi Akiva’s students guilty of that they deserved to die? If Rabbi Akiva’s students died as a result of G-d’s punishment for their sins, why should we mourn them? Didn’t they deserve their punishment?”.[ix]

We noticed that, according to the tradition, the deaths of the students of Rabbi Akiva stopped on the 33^rd day of the Omer. In the Talmud (bYevmoth 62b) it is said that these students died because they did not show proper respect to one another. This accusation sounds very similar to the reason always given for the destruction of the second Temple: baseless hatred (sinat chinam (bYoma 9b)). The Apostolic Writings confirm this diagnosis in an aggravating manner. Before Yeshua symbolically “went out and departed from the Temple” (Mt. 24:1) and held his final Olivet discourse (Mt. 24:1-25:46), he concluded with a lament over Jerusalem, saying: “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not! Behold, your house is left unto you desolate. For I say unto you, Ye shall not see me henceforth, till ye shall say, Blessed is he that cometh in the name of HaShem” (Mt. 23:37-39).

Yeshua’s announcement of the destruction of the Temple clearly reveals the deeper cause of the catastrophe that was to come upon the Jewish nation: its refusal to be united under the guidance of the true Messiah and to let its divisions be healed by him. And this draws our attention to the Roman wars and to the final and desperate endeavours of Rabbi Akiva and his followers to create a false national unity by expelling and cursing the followers of Yeshua. By his deliberate attempt to destroy the believing remnant of Israel, Rabbi Akiva for a very long time destroyed all hope of the nation, his own efforts for a restoration of its independence included. By the Bar Kochba war Judaism completely separated itself from the believers in Messiah Yeshua, and was itself separated from the Messianic Kingdom that had been so near to it during the days of Yeshua and the Apostles.

The tradition that the students of Rabbi Akiva didn’t show proper respect one for the other thus confers to us in a distorted way a deeper spiritual understanding of the mourning during the Omer. The mourning during these days is for the loss of all national messianic hopes for thousands of years. The mourning is not for the students of Akiva in a narrow sense, but for all his followers, and, as R. Stolper writes, “for the failure of the Jewish people to bring about the Messianic Age, for the fall of the curtain on Jewish independence, Jewish hopes and Jewish messianic ambitions”.[x] After the expulsion of the believers all Israel was brought under the yoke of rabbinic authority that was established by Rabbi Akiva. In this way all future Jews were made Akiva’s students. The mourning associated with them thus turns out to be a mourning for the whole Jewish nation. Unknowingly — and unconscious of the real state of affairs — the nation mourns for her own failure to recognize the true Messiah, Yeshua. That is the solution for the inconsistency detected above by Rabbi Stolper. All those who belong to rabbinic Judaism are Rabbi Akiva’s students, and they mourn for themselves and for the condition of the Jewish people.

What, from this perspective, is the meaning of the celebration of Lag Ba‘Omer? From our messianic perspective we feel compelled to say that it is the hidden spark of hope under the ashes that could not be destroyed by all the failures of Israel and all the cruelties of the Roman Empire. This spark of hope was Messiah Yeshua, crucified and resurrected in the 33^rd year of his life. He was and is and remains the foundation for the future redemption of all Israel. The atonement that he wrought on the Cross and the resurrection life he obtained are his definitive achievements that remain for all times and can nevermore be destroyed. Messiah has conquered and defeated the strong and evil forces behind sin and death, and therefore on the 33^rd day of the Omer we as Messianics can celebrate the ceasing of deaths because we have life in him. It is no mere coincidence that Lag Ba‘Omer is celebrated about the date that initiated the miracle of the Manna. For Yeshua is that “bread of life which cometh down from heaven, that a man may eat thereof, and not die” (Jn. 6:50). Lag Ba‘Omer thus contains the deepest mystery: the Messiah, in whom are hidden the secrets of everlasting life and the divine promise of the future restoration of all Israel.

4. Esoteric Mysticism versus Faith in Messiah

Now we can try to discover the reasons for the other observances connected with Lag Ba‘omer mentioned above, the lighting of bonfires and visiting the tomb of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai.

About the same time that Lag Ba‘Omer began to be celebrated (the XIII^th century CE) the pseudepigraphic book Zohar began to circulate, which was to become one of Judaism’s primary texts of kabbalistic mysticism. Its authorship was ascribed to Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, and many Chassidic Jews today still believe that the essential teachings found in it are his. However that may be, Lag Ba‘Omer is also celebrated as his Hilula or Yahrzeit. Shimon bar Yochai’s name thus became indissollubly linked with the emergent kabbalah and with with its esoteric, mystical doctrine. Many orthodox circles who acknowledge that Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai is not the historical author of the Zohar, maintain that he initiated kabbalistic mysticism. According to Rabbi Stolper, “In the midst of defeat, the Tannah, Rabbi Shimon bar-Yochai revealed to a small number of students the secrets of the mystical Zohar. In the Zohar, in its formulas, disicplines and spirituality lie the secrets whose seed will bring about the coming of the Messiah. The Zohar’s living tradition has kept that hope alive down to this very day”.[xi]

In the following centuries Shimon bar Yochai was elevated to the highest levels of mystical life and knowledge in the imagination of the people. In the 16^th century even a festive Lag Ba‘Omer song, composed by Shimon ibn Lavi, was dedicated to him. It praises him in wordings which, if sung by believers in Yeshua, would be exclusively be reserved for Messiah. This hymn is sung by most Jewish communities on Lag Ba‘Omer. Although it is clear that they don’t think Shimon bar Yochai to be the Messiah, yet he is addressed in this song in a manner that is similar to the manner Yeshua is addressed in messianic hymns.[xii]

By this development we see how the rejection of the true Messiah and the rising of kabbalistic mysticism became intertwined. Once the true spiritual renewal of life was refused, inevitably another path to redemption had to be sought. Once the true Messiah was rejected and his talmidim were step by step expelled from the Jewish nation, and the following generations saw the terrors of the Roman war, the destruction of the Temple, the national breakdown and the exile, new spiritual resources were needed for Judaism to survive. These resources were found in the form of an occult mysticism that seems to have begun with the rabbis of the second century CE. This is the sad route a considerable part of Judaism has taken. The P’rushim and the early rabbis had already begun to dilute the biblical faith by embracing the doctrine of the immortality of the soul and the practice of prayers on behalf of the dead. The later mysticism, that was strongly influenced by Neo-Platonism and Gnosticism and culminated in such works as the Sefer Yetzirah, the Sefer Bahir and the Zohar and similar works, went much further and accepted reincarnation, magical interpretations of the mitzvot, a whole lot of other occult practices, and a panentheistic concept of G-d.

From a messianic perspective the kabbalistic path of redemption is an illusion, a dream-world not rooted in the Scriptures. The mysticism that we find expressed in the Zohar offers a spiritualistic mythology, though this mythology takes the outward form of biblical interpretation. In this way the words of Scripture in fact become the vehicles of a new religious structure inspired by Neo-Platonism and Gnosticism. Under the guise of conformity to Scripture an entire new world of entities and concepts is introduced that is essentially incompatible with the basic teachings of the Torah and the prophets.

One of the results of this esoteric mysticism were intense and exaggerated speculations about the coming of Messiah. This has led to a spiritual climate that in the long run would lead to such historical derailments as for instance the proclamation of the false Messiah Sabbatai Zevi in the XVII^th century.[xiii]

The customs of lighting bonfires and having celebrations at the tomb of Shimon bar Yochai at first sight are of a similar paradoxical nature as the perplexities we met in the aforementioned mourning for Rav Akiva’s students. How can a Yahrzeit be celebrated in the manner of a joyous festival and be marked by bonfires? We have already argued that the mourning for Akiva’s students betrays, in a distorted manner, the mourning of the entire Jewish nation for not having known the time of her visitation (cf. Lk. 19:44). We must assume that the false renewal of Judaism by means of the esoteric mysticism of Bar Yochai and his followers, in a similar distorted manner, testifies for the true renewal of life that has come in Messiah Yeshua. There is only one tomb in the world that truly is a site of joy and that speaks of him “who hath abolished death, and hath brought life and immortality to light” (II Tim. 1:10).

This should lead us to consider the proper way for Messianics to celebrate Lag Ba‘Omer. For it is clear that we cannot simply take over the celebrations found in orthodox and chassidic circles. And yet we have seen that there is a deep symbolism referring to Yeshua inherent in this day.

5. Suggestions for a Messianic Celebration of Lag Ba‘Omer

Perhaps the best way for Messianics to celebrate Lag Ba‘Omer is by aligning ourselves to the biblical symbolism we have discovered, of Yeshua being the bread of life. By interpreting the number 33 as a recapitulation of Yeshua’s lifetime here on earth we have the occasion for a glad and joyous commemoration of the life and times of our Messiah. And how could we better commemorate him than by keeping the memorial he himself instituted and which we call ‘the Lord’s Supper’? In it we feed ourselves with the bread of life, and we experience that “the bread that I will give is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world” (Jn. 6:51). We experience that true mystical union between the Head of the Body and its members, when “he that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, dwelleth in me, and I in him” (Jn. 6:56).

On the eve before Pesach, at b’dikat chametz, we remember that Yeshua instituted the Supper in the face of his approaching death. While the joy of that celebration is overshadowed by the impressive and solemn events of our Master’s trial and crucifixion the next day (Nisan 14), the emphasis of the celebration on Lag Ba‘Omer is on our joy in him and our living communion with him. As the Apostle says: “Now, if we be dead with Messiah, we believe that we shall also live with him: Knowing that Messiah being raised from the dead dieth no more; death hath no more dominion over him” (Rom. 6:8-9). And as Yeshua himself testified: “As the living Father hath sent me, and I live by the Father: so he that eateth me, even he shall live by me” (Jn. 6:57). We don’t have to gather at the tomb of R. Shimon bar Yochai on this day and we don’t have to lit Yahrzeit candles. We may celebrate that we have a living Messiah by lighting bonfires and candles of joy, in honour of him who is the true and everlasting king of Israel.

It is also appropriate to have a haircut on this day. To let one’s hair grow is a sign of mourning and to have a haircut is a sign of joy. Obviously, we rejoice throughout the entire period of the Omer in the resurrection of Messiah. But a slight sense of mourning is also characteristic of this period. First, because, as we have explained above, the Jewish nation is still in a state of unbelief and refusal concerning Yeshua. The restoration of all Israel in Messiah is still awaiting. Second, because Messiah in his resurrection glory is in a sense detached from his followers who are still in the exile of their mortal bodies. There is also a mystical signification in the haircut. It reminds us of the cutting of the sheaf of the Omer, which by this cutting was detached from the earth. The cutting of the sheaf, on the first day of the Omer, and our haircut on Lag Ba‘Omer, are thus symbols of the fact that in his resurrection Messiah is detached from us and from this world’s life, and has now entered the completely sanctified state of the life of the World to Come.

By this manner of celebration Lag Ba‘Omer finds its natural complement in the celebration of Messiah’s ascension on the 40^th day of the Omer. On Lag Ba‘Omer we recapitulate Messiah’s life; a week later, on Yom HaAliyah Yeshua, we celebrate Messiah’s elevation to the right hand of the Father, and his installation as head over all things. Both celebrations lead up to the great Yom Tov of firstfruits, Shavu‘ot. On Shavu‘ot Israel received the Torah and was dedicated unto G-d as the holy firstfruits of mankind. On the Shavu‘ot in the year of Messiah’s resurrection the Ruach HaKodesh was outpoured on the believing remnant of Israel, which was dedicated unto G-d as the firstfruits of the nation. May we, believers in Messiah Yeshua — born Jews or added from the Gentiles — all be faithful members of this remnant.

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[i] Van Goudoever [pp. 19-20] says that the counting from the Sunday after Passover “is the original meaning of Leviticus xxiii. 11 and 15. The ordinary meaning of ‘Sabbath’ is the seventh day of the week. The same is valid for the Greek version of Leviticus xxiii. 15, in which the Hebrew word Sabbath is translated with ‘sabbaton’. To the passage ‘You shall count from the day’ there is a marginal not in the Greek version ‘the day which is after the Sabbath, tei meta to sabbaton; and another marginal note reads ‘from the first day after the Sabbath, apo tes protes tou sabbatou’. From rabbinic sources we can be certain that this was indeed the way the Boethusians counted the 50 days. In Leviticus xxiii. 15 the expression occurs, ‘You shall count seven full weeks’ (teminot), which supports the counting of the 50 days from Sunday to Sunday, because in that case it is possible to count seven full weeks, from Sunday to Sabbath. This is at least the quite reasonable interpretation of the Boethusians”. J. van Goudoever, Biblical Calendars, E.J. Brill — Leiden 1961. Cf. Christian Churches of God, “The Omer Count to Pentecost”, at: http://www.ccg.org/english/s/p173.html; and my own articles on this site: “Why Shavuos is always on Sunday”, at: http://messianic613.wordpress.com/2008/09/04/why-shavuos-is-always-on-sunday/ and “De Verwarring over de Omertelling en het Wekenfeest”, at: http://messianic613.wordpress.com/2009/04/28/de-verwarring-over-de-omertelling-en-het-wekenfeest/

[ii] Zevin, p. 887. Rabbi Shlomo Yosef Zevin, The Festivals in Halachah: An Analysis of the Development of the Festival Laws (Vol. II), Mesorah Publications, ltd. New York in conjunction with Hillel Press Jerusalem — Brooklyn NY · Jerusalem 2002 (1999).

[iii] Zevin, o.c., p. 888.

[iv] Rimon, p. 1. Rav Yosef Tzvi Rimon, “Sefirat Ha-omer Part 3: Practices of Mourning During Sefira” In: Halakha: A Weekly Shiur in Halakhic Topics, Yeshivat Har Etzion, Israel Koschitzky Virtual Beit Midrash, at: http://www.vbm-torah.org/archive/halak61/24sefirathaomer3.doc

[v] Rimon, ibid.

[vi] Zevin, o.c., p. 887.

[vii] Zevin, ibid.

[viii] Rabbi Pinchas Stolper, “The Mystery of Lag Ba‘Omer”, In: Orthodox Union Network 1995, at: http://www.ou.org/chagim/sefira/mystery.htm

[ix] Stolper, ibid.

[x] Stolper, ibid.

[xi] Stolper, ibid.

[xii] For an English version of this song, view: http://www.kabbalaonline.org/Holydays/omer/Bar_Yochai_Song.asp To what heights of idolatry this cult of the Rashbi has led can be illustrated by the translation of the Bar Yochai Song found on the Orthodox Union site. View:  http://www.ou.org/chagim/lagbaomer/song.htm

[xiii] Laenen, pp. 193-208. J.H. Laenen, Joodse mystiek. Een inleiding, Kok-Kampen · Lannoo-Tielt 1998.