Jesus the Pharisee

A Liturgical Drama with an Earthy Jesus

The television-style series The Chosen presents an “earthy” Jesus, portrayed with warmth and humor, akin to liturgical drama—a form that, interestingly, aligns with how the early  Qur’anic texts were drama plays, yet later revised according to the Hadith transmission but coopting of the Abassids. Now in its fourth season, the series has sparked ecumenical controversy, particularly surrounding Jonathan Roumie’s portrayal of Jesus, which reflects his Catholic-Orthodox background. His visit to the Pope alongside creator Dallas Jenkins further fueled debate, especially with revelations about Mormon producers’ involvement in the series.

However, an ecumenical gap remains: Jenkins included a Messianic rabbi (who clarifies the dynamics between two Pharisaic schools) and a Catholic priest, along with Evangelical voices—but no Muslim scholars. If the goal was true interfaith inclusivity, this absence is notable. Still, the series resonates with a broad audience, as the public gravitates toward its dramatic storytelling and unifying elements. Perhaps its greatest success will be deepening biblical literacy—stirring the heart while prompting viewers to return to the New Testament text and live by its transformative message. 

One novelty of the series — among the other productions of the life of Jesus of Nazareth, which depict him more celestial — is his engagement between two historically verifiable schools of Pharisees, which the Rabbi consultant does affirm—known as Shammai and Hillel, which play out within the series and the drama. The latter aligned with Jesus’ teachings. The former was in control of the Sanhedrin and nationalists. The Sadducees inspired such nationalism through its political wing in a coalition with King Herod and by a terror wing of extremist assassin Zealots. Jesus recruited from these nationalists to renounce their evil ways; here, this ‘earthy’ Jesus’ pacifism finds traction in a realistic presentation that confronts the hyper—grace & faith only caricature of the proclamation of His gospel with His Jewish observance. 

Thus, amid the many strong words Jesus used against certain Pharisees, probably Shammaites, he most importantly told His followers to obey them (Matthew 23:1- 3), “Do what they say for they sit in the seat of Moses.” Still, conflations of legalists with hypocrite Pharisees permeate our understanding. So, going against those with authority in the Qehela (Cultivated Olive Tree) is a valid question, especially if Jesus was one of the Hillites or at least received by them. What gave him the authority to call out the clergy and highlight a religion, not an ethnic group framed as a nation? Along political lines, it seems that Jesus of Nazareth had no interest in overthrowing Rome. His mission was religious or spiritual.

Moreover, he proclaimed religion as a spiritual action. When Jesus stated: “Don’t do what they do,” he affirmed the Qehal Jew over the Shammuti school or show-off Scribes and Pharisees, including opportunistic sola scriptura bound Sadducees who had no desire for Oral Torah observance. After all, who was the Apostle Paul but a Hillite taught by Gamaliel, who indeed echoed the position of our Lord against the ruling Sadducees and Shammaites, perhaps in a time of political and nationalistic manipulation? Again, these groups received His harshest words. They all went against Jesus of Nazareth and his inspiration toward the mission to the lost sheep of Israel, which came in many varieties due to the diversity of such an ethnic outreach and the grafting in (i.e., Idumea or Edom) and eventually the Gentiles or nations near and afar a process that has happened since Abraham’s Hagar (The Ger). 

Shammaites and Sadducees most likely define the majority opinion of the Jew or Judean ethnocentric nationalists, mentioned in The Gospel of John, who stood against the old faith through political alignments and religious alliances, for their kingdom was the total of this world with or without Rome and where the Idumeans eventually transferred their alignment with power. Christian and ethnic Jewish nationalism is no novelty, and religious conscience is something utterly other than genuinely spiritual. 

Therefore, the impulse of the Great Commission, salvation for all peoples, was also nothing new; it was just ‘Great’ in scope, inspired and aided by Hillite Pharisees onward toward Paul in The Book of Acts. Jesus and Paul were not that different, contrary to popular opinion. They demonstrate that the New Testament, as a text of the Oral Torah, was recorded to create Hebrew believers and to be authoritative in doctrine. The context of the gospel points toward living as the righteous in the security of God’s purposes over earthly aspirations.

👉 Read: Jesus the Pharisee
A New Look at the Jewishness of Jesus
👉 Buy on Amazon
👉 YouTube: Obey the Pharisees
👉 The Anti-Christ

 

The above comparision is NOT quite right, showing that post WWII Messianic Jewish and Hebrew Rooters are not the Qehela and should not be considered as an authority on Jewish Halakah (Law). Caution is required by Christian use of the term Notzrim in modern Hebrew. Such a direction helps uncover early formative groups indentified in the historical Jesus pursuit some of which are properly analyzed by the following. NOT THIS (1) BUT THIS (2)

The Linage of Paul the Pharisee

Paul’s Arrival in Jerusalem and His Pharisaical Context
“When we arrived at Jerusalem, the brothers and sisters received us warmly. The next day Paul and the rest of us went to see James, and all the elders were present. Paul greeted them and reported in detail what God had done among the Gentiles through his ministry. When they heard this, they praised God. Then they said to Paul: ‘You see, brother, how many thousands of Jews have believed, and all of them are zealous for the law. They have been informed that you teach all the Jews who live among the Gentiles to turn away from Moses, telling them not to circumcise their children or live according to our customs. What shall we do? They will certainly hear that you have come, so do what we tell you. There are four men with us who have made a vow. Take these men, join in their purification rites and pay their expenses, so that they can have their heads shaved. Then everyone will know there is no truth in these reports about you, but that you yourself are living in obedience to the law. As for the Gentile believers, we have written to them our decision that they should abstain from food sacrificed to idols, from blood, from the meat of strangled animals, and from sexual immorality.’”
— Acts 21:17–25

Paul’s arrival in Jerusalem reflects the complex dynamics of early Christianity, particularly its relationship with Judaism. This passage presents Paul as a figure both deeply rooted in Jewish tradition and misunderstood as a subversive founder of a “new religion.” Despite this, Paul’s mission aligned with Pharisaical tradition, particularly the teachings of the school of Hillel and his mentor, Gamaliel. His impact on the Western Roman Empire, and possibly even Spain (as some traditions suggest), highlights his pivotal role in spreading the Gospel beyond Judea.

Paul’s Mission and Strategy
Rashi interprets the Apostles as “infecting their culture to sway the Notzri (Christian) faith away from Judaism into Messianic Noahidism; they themselves were not heretics and did so for the benefit of the Jewish people.” Paul’s acceptance within Judea, despite controversy, and his subsequent ministry in Rome demonstrate his unique role in God’s plan to reach the nations. Under house arrest, near where St. Paul’s Basilica now stands, Paul leveraged Roman infrastructure to disseminate his teachings, fulfilling his calling as a doulos (bond-servant) of Christ to the ends of the earth.

Jewish Perspectives on Paul and Early Christianity
Orthodox Jewish sources also shed light on the emergence of Christianity as The Way of the Messianic Hebrews. From the Chazal (Jewish sages) to Yochanan ben Zakkai’s Pharisaic academy at Yavneh, early Jewish thought engaged with the New Testament’s mission to the nations. Notably, Paul’s letters circulated widely and were affirmed as part of this salvation-oriented mission.

Paul’s writings focus on the exaltation of Jesus Christ as Sar HaPanim (“Prince of the Presence”). His cosmic Christology transcends Jesus’ earthly ministry, emphasizing His crucifixion and resurrection as central to apocalyptic and eschatological hope. Paul ties Jesus to the Passover lamb (1 Corinthians 5:7), aligning the Gentiles’ inclusion with Israel’s salvific narrative.

Christological Development and Pharisaical Thought
Jewish thinkers like Rabbi Akiva (c. 50–135 CE) and his student, Rabbi Simeon bar Yochai, played pivotal roles in shaping Christological thought. While Akiva initially supported Bar Kokhba as the Messiah, he later rejected him, affirming a more spiritual lineage tied to Sar HaPanim. Simeon bar Yochai’s teachings in the Zohar present Metatron as the perfect man and divine emanation, paralleling Paul’s description of Jesus as Lord our Righteousness (Jeremiah 23:5–6).

The Piyyutim of Eleazar ben Kalir (570–640 CE) further explored the preexistence and divinity of the Messiah, preserving these ideas into the Middle Ages. Such traditions illustrate how Pharisaical and later rabbinical thought engaged with the concept of the Messiah, including its overlap with Christian theology.

The Continuity of Pharisaical Thought
The narrative in Acts 21–26 underscores Paul’s alignment with Pharisaical thought, particularly its mission to bring the nations under God’s covenant. This continuity is evident in the spiritual genealogy (shellshelit) of rabbis and sages who saw Jesus’ mission as part of Judaism’s broader purpose:

• Rashi (1040–1105): Commented on the intersection of Jewish and Christian missions.

• The Tosafists (12th century): Including Rabbis Simhah ben Samuel of Vitry and Rabbeinu Tam.

• Nachmanides (1194–1270): Bridged Jewish and Gentile understanding of messianic themes.

• The Meiri (1249–1316): Acknowledged the ethical and theological contributions of Christianity.

Later thinkers, such as Samson Raphael Hirsch (1808–1888), emphasized Christianity’s role in spreading monotheism and biblical ethics to the nations. Hirsch recognized Christianity’s estrangement from Judaism as necessary to bring the message of the One God to a world steeped in idolatry and immorality. Similarly, Pinchas Lapide and Harvey Falk explored Jewish-Christian relations, highlighting Paul’s significance within the Pharisaical framework.

A Minority Tradition within Rabbinic Judaism?
While the majority of rabbinical Judaism opposed Christianity, minority voices throughout history acknowledged its role in the divine plan. Figures like Jacob Emden (1697–1776) and Isaac Lichtenstein (1824–1908) affirmed the ethical monotheism shared by Judaism and Christianity. Samson Raphael Hirsch noted that Christianity and Islam emerged from Judaism to combat idolatry, immorality, and spiritual degradation.

Conclusion
Paul’s mission, rooted in Pharisaical tradition, was not an attack on Judaism but its fulfillment for the nations. Acts 21–26 reflects the complexities of his role, both within Jewish thought and as a messenger to the Gentiles. The Pharisaical lineage of Paul continues to resonate through Jewish and Christian traditions, affirming Jesus as Yeshua Sar HaPanim, the culmination of God’s covenant with Israel and the nations.

👉 YouTube Playlist The Origins of the New Testament

Simon Cephas - St. Peter & Rome

Rome captivates the senses, with Matthew 16:13-20 gleaming in gold along the towering perimeter of the Vatican’s Basilica, beneath Michelangelo’s majestic dome and Pietà at the entrance. But have Evangelicals truly grasped the significance of this passage?

Many interpret Simon Cephas’ confession as the primary divide between Rome and Protestantism. However, this reading overlooks a crucial Hebrew perspective—specifically, the insertion of Petter (Petra), a pun frequently found in Talmudic discourse regarding Cephas as “the rock.” This imagery draws from the Maccabean-era absorption of Edom, Petra, and the Nabataeans—now embodied in the Herodians and Rome itself. When Simon Peter, a redeemed lost sheep of Israel, stood at Caesarea Philippi, he was not confronting mere contextualization but full-blown syncretism, surrounded by pagan temples at the base of Mount Hermon—the highest peak in the Holy Land. This mountain, another “great rock,” plays a significant role in Jewish apocryphal traditions, particularly in the Books of Enoch, where it takes on a mystical life of its own.

God’s revelation has always addressed humanity’s struggle with sin and idolatry—from Abraham’s apostate origins in Ur of the Chaldees to the religious empires of Egypt, Babylon, and Persia. This extends to Esau’s brother-in-law, Nebaioth (Genesis 25, 28, 36), whose name means prophet and who is associated with the Petter Chamor—the firstborn of Abraham’s son, Ishmael. Too often cast as an “evil seed,” Ishmael’s lineage actually represents a missiological trajectory for redeeming the erev rav (the “mixed multitude”)—from which the term Arab derives.

The inheritance of Isaac, however, carries the divine oracles forward. In Galatians 4, Paul uses Hagar and the Heavenly Jerusalem to illustrate the ultimate destination of the seed of promise, emphasizing its availability to all people. This theme is reinforced in Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem—riding on a donkey. Unlike in the West, where donkeys became symbols of stupidity, these creatures were prized in Jewish tradition for their intelligence and reliability as travel companions. In fact, the donkey is the only contaminated (tumah, not “unclean”) animal that is holy enough for Pidyon haBen (the redemption of the firstborn) as detailed in Exodus 13.

Thus, when Jesus spoke the Petter pun on Cephas, he was identifying Peter—once a hardened sinner (Luke 5:8)—as one made holy through exemption as a Petter (firstborn), set apart for the lost sheep of the edah (congregation). This transformation establishes Peter as one of the pillars of the New Testament church.

Yet, this does not negate Paul’s rebuke of Peter for his ethnocentric tendencies (Galatians 2). While Peter understood his role in bringing the Gospel to Cornelius (Acts 10), his withdrawal from table fellowship with Gentiles in Antioch suggests an ongoing struggle with Jewish Qahal (assembly) observance. His actions—possibly an attempt to avoid “Judaizing”—illustrate the perpetual tension between Jewish discipleship (Talmidim) and the inclusion of Gentiles. This may also shed light on Peter’s reference to the “heavy yoke” in Acts 15. Such nuanced theological developments in the New Testament were later co-opted by Christendom in ways that obscure their original Jewish context.

The medieval Talmudic commentator Rashi (1100s) provides an intriguing insight, suggesting that the Apostles intentionally “influenced their culture” to steer the Notzri (Christian) faith away from Judaism, shaping it into a Messianic Noahide framework. Yet, Rashi maintains that they were not heretics but acted for the benefit of the Jewish people. Further reinforcing this concept, the Hebrew word Petur—meaning “redeemed firstborn”—also carries the meaning of “exempt.” This description fits the role of a Petter Chamor, a Baal Teshuva (one who returns to faith) guiding pilgrim Messianic Noahides, such as Cornelius. In this sense, Simon bar Jonah carried forward the tradition of divine revelation to the nations.

Perhaps the most enduring testament to Simon Peter’s presence in Rome is not the Basilica that bears his name, but rather the Alexamenos Graffito on Palatine Hill—an ancient depiction of a man worshiping a crucified figure with a donkey’s head. Scholars argue that this was meant to mock early Christians, likening their God to an Egyptian demiurge. However, the donkey—an unclean yet kosher animal—recalls the ways Jewish missiology functioned in the Tanakh and Septuagint, using allegorical animals as teaching devices.

Which leads to the final question: 

Why does the pattern of the cross 

appear etched upon the donkey’s back?

👉 Alexamenos Graffiti 

👉 Dumb Donkies: The Slander of Christendom

👉 Matt. 16 Word Study

👉 Petter Chamor YouTube Playlist

The most frequent commandment? SING unto the LORD, imagining forever!

He Giveth More Grace

The Olive Tree & The Christmas Tree

 

2025 is the 1700 Year Anniversary 

of the Council of Nicaea, 

where Santa Claus ‘decked’ a heretic and 

where ALL of Christianity finds Unity

Did the Council of Nicaea Finalize the ‘Parting of Ways’?

No, but it did initiate targeted persecution because its Christology was deemed “kosher”: God from God, Light from Light, of the same essence, substance, or being as the Father—a theological stance that took precedence. The prominence of Athanasius and Arius in Christian theology is undeniable, as seen in C.S. Lewis’s introduction to a reprint of On the Incarnation, which reflects an interpretation seemingly unaware of Constantine’s political maneuvering.

Does the Humanity of Christ Require a Human?

No, as evidenced by the term Theotokos (God-Bearer), which, though coined in the pre-Nicene era as doctrinally acceptable, later evolved into Mother of God, much like how “begotten” was adapted in creedal formulations. These shifts diverged from their original scriptural contexts, reshaping theological concepts through human interpretation rather than aligning with the literary and theological frameworks of Scripture itself.

If Jesus Christ Was a “Demigod-King,” Why Not Constantine?

Constantine’s self-perception was not far removed, yet his Arian faction failed to triumph at Nicaea in 325, as Homoousios (same essence) prevailed. However, his setback was temporary. Despite endorsing Nicene Christology in the short term, his broader theological-political-ecclesial agenda continued. Moving his capital to Constantinople in 330, commissioning 50 Bibles in 331, and then shifting his wrath toward the Holy Land in 333, Constantine imposed his will: constructing three basilicas and, reminiscent of Antiochus Epiphanes, compelling Christians to abandon synagogues and even consume pork at Pascha—on pain of death.

Nicaea and Vatican II: A Paralleling Hegemony

The Council of Nicaea foreshadows today’s Vatican II, particularly in its Jewish apology and the centrality of the “Mother Church.” Rome’s hegemony continues to shape Evangelical accommodation and doctrinal confusion. Consider this: two of Constantine’s original 50 Bibles have survived—Codex Vaticanus and Codex Sinaiticus, forming a nearly complete biblical text from 1,700 years ago.

Old and New Testament Divisions: A Faulty Paradigm

The categorization of “Old” and “New” Testament reflects Israel’s covenantal reception, but these titles impose a misleading framework. The New Covenant had already been foretold in Jeremiah, following the coercive covenant of Sinai. In this light, discipleship becomes the obedience of faith, whereas law, given under compulsion, was for spiritual “children.” Didn’t Jesus invite the little children to come to Him? Even the Syro-Phoenician woman’s proximity to Israel’s blessings serves as an example of pilgrimage, not coercion.

Was Chalcedonian Christology Purely Revelatory?

I argue it was not. Rather, it was a theological-political development. Consider the ancient churches—Armenian, Syrian, and Coptic—each retaining Mia/Monophysite Christology, as do the Anabaptists. Their theological vision, often linked to Adam Kadmon (the Second Adam), never resulted in militant expansionism post-conversion.

Their Christological formulations align more closely with Old Testament theophanies, where figures such as Sar HaPanim or Netaiot function as mediating angelic beings—one with the Father (Ein Sof Ohr, the unapproachable light). This presence, seen hovering over the waters in Genesis, walking in the cool of the day, and as the Root of David, suggests a continuity of divine manifestation.

The Significance of Luke 3:38

Luke’s genealogy concludes with “the Son of God”, highlighting Christ as the Redeemer of fallen humanity—tracing back to Adam and the Nephilim-influenced Cainite lineage (Genesis 4:6). This is not the mythological distortion found in the Enochian corpus, which confuses Metatron with the Two Powers in Heaven controversy. Instead, the victory of Jesus of Nazareth proves Him as the Christ—the very claim that caused the Sanhedrin to tear their garments in rage, condemning the innocent Lamb of God for us.