The Rabbis or Jewish tradition’s
view of the Tribes, Eschatology, and Torat Edom
Introduction
In Part One of this series (“Manasseh and the 144,000”), we examined how the list of Israel’s tribes in Revelation 7 challenges literalist Christian eschatologies. By analyzing why Manasseh supplanted Dan in the 144,000 and critiquing Futurist, Dispensationalist, and Supersessionist readings, we argued that Scripture’s tribal imagery operates on a symbolic covenantal level rather than a strictly genetic or tribalist one. We invoked the lens of Torat Edom – a perspective informed by Jewish tradition’s view of Edom (Esau’s lineage, later identified with Rome and Christendom) – to illuminate how inclusionand exclusion of tribes in prophecy point toward a deeper mystery of redemption beyond tribal bloodlines.
Part Two continues this exploration by focusing on two enigmatic figures at the margins: the tribe of Dan, conspicuously omitted from Revelation’s list, and Edom, historically outside Israel yet eerily intertwined with Israel’s destiny. We will delve into the symbolic omission of Dan in Revelation 7 and connect it with themes of exile and spiritual estrangement in earlier Jewish texts. The heroic yet tragic figure of Samson (Shimshon) – a Danite – will serve as a prophetic mirror for Dan’s paradoxical role.
We will then examine the Second Temple era, when exiled Israelites were partially regathered even as Edomites and Nabateans were forcibly integrated into Judea under the Hasmoneans. This historical irony, where a tribe of Israel is “lost” and a nation of Edom is “grafted in,” provides a rich analogy for the theological symbolism of Edom in later Jewish thought. Drawing on rabbinic commentary (e.g. Rashi), Talmudic passages, and mystical insights from the Zohar (especially concepts of qahal and covenantal strictness), we will deepen our reflection on covenantal identity and belonging. Throughout, we affirm and expand Part One’s thesis: that the prophetic inclusion/exclusion of tribes (such as in Revelation) is not meant as a literal ethnic headcount, but as a symbolic and covenantal mystery pointing toward the ultimate redemption of God’s people.
The Omission of Dan in Revelation: Exile and Estrangement
Revelation 7:4–8 famously lists twelve tribes—12,000 from each—totaling the 144,000 “sealed” servants of God. Curiously, the list excludes Dan, one of the original sons of Jacob, and instead includes Manasseh (son of Joseph) alongside Joseph’s name (covering Ephraim). This omission has long raised questions. Many Christian interpreters suggest Dan was left out “because of the evil associated with that tribe”, referring to Dan’s early idolatry (e.g. the idol of Micah installed in Danite territory in Judges 18 ). Indeed, from a literalist viewpoint, Dan’s history was marred by idol worship and rebellion, which could symbolically “disqualify” it from the end-times roster.
Some early Church Fathers went further: Hippolytus and Irenaeus taught that Antichrist would arise from Dan, citing Jeremiah’s warning “the snorting of [the enemy’s] horses was heard from Dan” (Jer. 8:16) and Jacob’s prophecy of Dan as a serpentine judge . “For as Christ springs from the tribe of Judah, so Antichrist is to spring from the tribe of Dan,” wrote Hippolytus, explicitly tying Dan’s omission in Revelation to this dark destiny.
From a Jewish perspective, while Dan is not associated with an “Antichrist” per se, Dan’s tribe is linked with troubling themes of estrangement and exile. In the Hebrew Bible, Dan struggled with idolatry and integration from early on. The tribe’s territory was originally in the southwest, but feeling constrained, a portion of Dan migrated far north to Laish, conquering it and renaming it Dan (Joshua 19:47, Judges 18). There they set up the graven image of Micah and established a cultic shrine (Judg. 18:30–31), effectively splitting Dan’s loyalties between the covenant and idols. Dan became a byword for backsliding: the prophet Amos, for example, condemns those who swear “As your god lives, O Dan” (Amos 8:14), indicating Danite idol worship. Later, King Jeroboam of Ephraim placed one of the golden calf idols “in Dan” (the other in Bethel) to seduce the Northern Kingdom away from Jerusalem’s Temple (1 Kings 12:29–30). Thus, Dan was literally a northern outlier and spiritually on the fringes, a tribe whose name became entwined with idol worship.
It is significant that by the time of the Babylonian exile and return (6th–5th century BCE), the tribe of Dan effectively disappears from Jewish records. When the exiles returned in Ezra-Nehemiah’s day, tribal listings prominently include Judah, Benjamin, and Levi, but Dan is never mentioned, implying that Dan (along with most northern tribes) had been exiled by Assyria earlier and never came back as a distinct group. Later Jewish tradition consequently regarded Dan as one of the Ten Lost Tribes. Indeed, the Mishnah in Sanhedrin 10:3 starkly states, “The Ten Tribes will not return (from exile)…” (Sanhedrin 110b) – an opinion attributed to Rabbi Akiva . Another sage (Rabbi Eliezer) dissents, suggesting their return is possible, comparing their exile to darkness that will one day see light . This Talmudic debate underscores Dan’s liminal status: part of Israel’s heritage yet considered “as good as gone” by some.
Against this backdrop, Dan’s omission in Revelation 7 resonates profoundly with Jewish exile motifs. The exclusion is not merely punitive; it is poignant. Dan stands in for all those tribes and souls that were “lost” or spiritually estranged. Just as Dan’s banner brought up the rear during Israel’s wilderness marches, gathering the stragglers (the camp of Dan was the me’asef, the “collector” of the camps – Numbers 10:25), now Dan itself has become the straggler left off the list, awaiting God’s gathering. The 144,000 list in Revelation, viewed through Jewish eyes, is a symbolic geography of redemption: it includes tribes like Levi (usually omitted from land-allotment lists) and Joseph/Manasseh (covering Ephraim), pointing to a sanctified, priestly community, purified of idolatry.
By leaving out Dan (and the name Ephraim), the list implicitly renounces the legacy of idolatry associated with Dan and Ephraim’s rebellion . Yet, Revelation’s intent is not to banish Dan forever, but to tell a story – a story of judgment and hope. The very absence of Dan cries out, as Jacob did, “I wait for Your salvation, O Lord!” (Gen. 49:18). The stage is set for a mystery: What will become of Dan, the missing tribe? And could its fate be tied to the redemption of those outside Israel, even to Edom itself?
Samson: A Danite Prophet of Paradox
Any discussion of Dan’s destiny must grapple with Samson, the most famous Danite in Scripture. Samson son of Manoah (Judges 13–16) was from the tribe of Dan, and his complex story offers a prophetic microcosm of Dan’s own mystery and paradox. On his deathbed, when Jacob blessed his twelve sons, his oracle for Dan was cryptic and striking: “Dan shall judge his people as one of the tribes of Israel. Dan shall be a serpent by the road, a viper along the path, that bites the horse’s heels so that its rider falls backward. I wait for Your salvation (liyshu’atkha), O LORD!” (Genesis 49:16–18).
The sudden cry for God’s salvation in the midst of Dan’s blessing puzzled generations of commentators. Rashi explains that Jacob foresaw Samson arising from Dan and initially thought Samson would be the potential Messiah of his era . Jacob saw in prophetic vision Samson’s exploits against the Philistines – a one-man judge who “shall judge his people” – but he also saw Samson’s tragic end, blinded and captive, pushing apart the pillars of Dagon’s temple in a final act of self-sacrificial deliverance. Realizing Samson would only “begin to save” Israel (cf. Judg. 13:5) and not complete the salvation, Jacob uttered, “For Your salvation I hope, O LORD!” – praying for a greater deliverance beyond Samson . As Rashi puts it, Jacob “prophesied that the Philistines would gouge out Samson’s eyes…and [Samson] would eventually say [as he died], ‘Remember me, O God, strengthen me just this once’ (Judges 16:28)”, prompting Jacob to plead for God’s ultimate salvation.
Samson thus emerges in Jewish tradition as a messianic foreshadow – a failed messiah figure or “potential Mashiach of his generation” . The Midrash (Genesis Rabbah 98:14) explicitly says Samson had the potential to be the Messiah but fell short . His very name, Shimshon, is linked to shemesh (sun), and one Talmudic aggadah notes “the sun of Israel” was dimmed with Samson’s death. Yet even in failure, Samson is revered as a deliverer and listed among the faithful (Hebrews 11:32). The Zohar and later mystics go further: they observe that Jacob’s blessing calls Dan both a snake and, by implication in Moses’ blessing, a lion (Deut. 33:22).
The gematria (numerical value) of “snake” (nachash, נחש) is 358, equal to that of “Messiah” (Mashiach, משיח) . Far from simply equating Dan with evil, this hints that Dan’s “serpent” role has a redemptive purpose. As one Jewish teaching puts it, “the Serpent [of Eden] caused man’s downfall, and so it will be a ‘serpentine’ Mashiach who reverses that event” . Samson, who is likened to a serpent striking the Philistines, prefigures a messianic deliverer who will strike at evil’s empire (in Jewish midrash, the final enemy is often Edom/Rome).
Notably, a Midrash finds an allusion to Mashiach in the genealogy of Dan: Dan’s only son recorded in Genesis was Chushim (Genesis 46:23), and the Hebrew letters of Chushim (חשים) are an exact anagram of Mashiach (משיח) . Chushim, though a minor figure, appears in one dramatic midrashic episode: during Jacob’s funeral, when Esau (ancestor of Edom) tried to block the burial, the deaf Chushim, frustrated by the delay, struck off Esau’s head with a sword. Esau’s head rolled into the cave of Machpelah to lie with the patriarchs, while his body remained outside – a grim but symbolically rich scene (Pirkei d’Rebbi Eliezer 38).
This is interpreted as “Chushim…put an end to Esau”, foreshadowing that Mashiach ben David will in the future “put an end to the oppression of Edom.” In other words, a descendant of Dan deals the final blow to Esau/Edom – precisely the role Samson partially played against Philistia, and which a Danite element will play in the future against the greater oppressors of Israel. Little wonder that another Midrash (Yalkut Shimoni, I:160) concludes: “Mashiach will come from two tribes: from his father’s side from Judah, but from his mother’s side from Dan.” . Some even speculate King David’s own mother was from Dan, intertwining Danite blood into the Davidic line.
All these strands paint Samson and Dan in a paradoxical light: Dan is both vilified and glorified. On the one hand, Dan fell into idolatry and earned a reputation for wickedness, warranting exclusion from the 144,000 list to signify purity . On the other hand, Dan carries seeds of salvation within its very name and legacy. Samson’s story shows a marginalized savior – a man of immense strength and glaring weakness, a Hebrew Nazirite who consorts with Philistines, an insider who dies outsider. He is a one-man qahal (assembly) at times, yet he dies with the uncircumcised. In a way, Samson/Dan straddles the line between Israel and the nations, between covenant and estrangement. The Zohar notes this duality by associating Dan with the left side of Gevurah (severity/judgment) and Judah with the right side of Chesed (kindness) . Dan = Din (judgment), as the name itself means, and Judah = hoda’ah (thanksgiving). The Messiah, it teaches, will unite these polar qualities – the strictness of Dan and the mercy of Judah – to properly judge and redeem the world.
In summary, the symbolic omission of Dan in Revelation can be understood as a deliberate theological statement: It reflects Dan’s historical estrangement (exile and idolatry), yet by highlighting that absence, Scripture invites us to recall Dan’s longing for salvation and the unfulfilled promise represented by Samson. It sets the stage for a redemption that will somehow bring Dan back in from the wilderness. As we turn to the figure of Edom, we will see an intriguing parallel: Edom, too, is a brother estranged, cast out from the covenant in one sense, yet strangely entwined with Israel’s redemptive future. Dan’s story and Edom’s story will converge in the mystery of how God’s covenant draws in the “outsider” and disciplines the “insider,” all for the purpose of ultimate reconciliation.
Liminal Tribes and Converted Nations: Dan and Edom in Second Temple History
The Second Temple period (5th century BCE to 1st century CE) was a time of both regathering and scattering for the people of Israel – a living backdrop for understanding Revelation’s symbolism. After the Babylonian Exile, a remnant of Judah, Benjamin, and Levi returned to rebuild Jerusalem (hence “Jews” became a common term for Israelites). The northern tribes (often collectively called Ephraim or Joseph), including Dan, largely remained dispersed, having been exiled earlier by Assyria (8th century BCE). Thus, even in restored Judea, there was an acute awareness of “missing tribes.” The community knew it represented only a portion of “all Israel.” For example, I Chronicles 4–7 lists post-exilic genealogies for many tribes, but Dan is notably absent.
Later on, the first-century historian Josephus could only list a few tribes as still traceable (he basically speaks of Judah, Benjamin, Levi and “the rest beyond the Euphrates”). This sense of loss fed hopes that God would one day gather all the tribes again (cf. Ezekiel 37:15–28’s vision of reunifying Judah and Ephraim). By New Testament times, the concept of the “twelve tribes” had become as much a theological idea as a sociological reality – James writes to “the twelve tribes in the Diaspora” (James 1:1) as an image of the fulness of God’s people. Revelation’s list of tribes must be read with this understanding: it’s evoking an ideal Israel, one that transcends the fragmentary reality of the Second Temple era.
Meanwhile, an ironic twist of history saw Edomites and other neighboring peoples integrated into the Jewish people in ways that blurred the lines of covenant belonging. The Edomites (also called Idumeans in later times) were the descendants of Esau/Edom, traditionally Israel’s kin and rival. During the Babylonian destruction of Judah (586 BCE), Edom had opportunistically moved into Judean territory – occupying parts of the Negev up to Hebron . By the time exiled Judeans returned, they found Edomites settled in some of their ancestral land . Tensions ran high; biblical writers like Obadiah and Psalm 137 excoriate Edom for rejoicing at Jerusalem’s fall.
Over the ensuing centuries, Edom (by then often called Idumea) remained a stubborn enclave. However, around 113–110 BCE, the Hasmonean Jewish leader John Hyrcanus waged a campaign against the Idumeans and made a radical move: he forcibly converted the Edomites to Judaism . According to Josephus (Antiquities 13.257), Hyrcanus gave the Edomites a choice – circumcision and acceptance of the Law or expulsion – and many chose to become Jews. This was unprecedented: “the first instance of forced conversion perpetrated by Jews in recorded history.” Whether some conversions were less coerced and more of a peaceful assimilation is debated , but either way, by the 1st century BCE Edomites were part of the Jewish polity.
One of their number, Antipater of Idumea, rose to power, and his son would become King Herod the Great. Notably, Herod’s father was Idumean (Edomite) and his mother was Nabatean (an Arab from Petra) – so Herod embodied a fusion of Edom and Ishmael, so to speak, grafted onto the trunk of Judah by politics and marriage. Rome appointed Herod as king, and he in turn rebuilt the Jerusalem Temple magnificently. Thus, just as Dan (a native tribe) disappears among the gentiles, Edom (a gentile “tribe”) is absorbed among the Jews.
This paradox was not lost on Jewish thinkers. The Torah itself had a law about Edom: “You shall not abhor an Edomite, for he is your brother… Children of the third generation that are born to them may enter the assembly of Hashem” (Deuteronomy 23:7–8). Unlike Ammon and Moab, who were barred from Israel’s community to the tenth generation (and males essentially forever barring special circumstances), Edomites could be admitted after a few generations of assimilation. The Hasmonean-era conversions arguably fulfilled this law (perhaps without the waiting period). Yet the inclusion of Edom was fraught with qahal strictness issues. Could an Idumean truly be part of the “congregation of Israel” immediately? Many Jews remained suspicious of these new brethren. Herod, especially, was seen as an interloper – a “half-Jew” at best. The rabbis later referred to him as a slave of the Hasmoneans (since his Idumean father had been in service to the Hasmonean dynasty) and lampooned his impious deeds despite his Temple-building.
Yet the integration of Edomites also forced a reevaluation of Edom’s role in God’s plan. Geopolitically, Edom was no longer a separate nation after the first century BCE; prophetically, however, “Edom” took on a new avatar: Rome. During Herod’s reign and thereafter, Judea fell under Roman dominion. The Jews saw uncanny parallels between Edom and Rome. Just as Jacob and Esau wrestled in the womb, so now a fraternal struggle played out between Israel and the Roman Empire. The identification solidified after 70 CE (when Rome destroyed the Second Temple) and 135 CE (Bar Kokhba’s revolt crushed by Rome). Rabbinic writings increasingly use “Edom” as a cipher for Rome and, by extension, for Gentile powers and even Christianity. “In the Roman period, Edom and Esau come to represent Rome,” notes one scholar, and after Rome embraced Christianity under Constantine, “Edom/Esau = Rome becomes Edom/Esau = Christianity/the Church.”
This was already hinted in the position of Herod: a circumcised Edomite on Judah’s throne backed by Rome made the Edom = Rome analogy concrete . The Talmud and Midrash take this equation for granted . Rashi, writing in medieval France, consistently glosses “Edom” in biblical verses as referring to Rome or the Church . For medieval Jews suffering under Christendom, Esau/Edom became the theological foil to Jacob/Israel: Esau symbolizes the oppressor and unfaithful “other,” while Jacob symbolizes God’s covenant people.
However, embedded in this adversarial typology was also a strange hope. The prophets had foretold doom for Edom (Obadiah’s single-chapter prophecy says “no survivor shall remain of the house of Esau”), yet other hints suggest Edom’s ultimate reconciliation. Consider that odd midrash of Esau’s head being buried with Jacob – as if acknowledging that part of Esau (the “head,” perhaps meaning his legacy or some noble aspect) has a place among the righteous. The Talmud in Megillah 6a records a saying: “Esau (Edom) will don tallit and tefillin (prayer shawl and phylacteries) in the future to come.” In other words, the erstwhile enemy will try to appear as a Jew, seeking repentance or at least pretending. Another Midrash (Pesikta Rabbati 2) plays on Edom’s name: “Why is [Rome] compared to a pig (chazir, lit. ‘swine’)? Because it will return (lachzor) to its Maker.” The word for pig, chazir, is linked to chozer (return).
This was interpreted to mean that at the end of days, the empire of Edom (Rome) would experience a turnaround – possibly a mass conversion or a submission to God’s kingship. Some took it to fantastical lengths (a later idea that pigs would become kosher in the Messianic era!), but the core notion is a dramatic inclusion of Edom in the worship of Hashem.
The Zohar and Kabbalistic tradition add a cosmological depth to Edom’s image. In the Zohar’s view, the infamous list of “eight kings who reigned in Edom before any king reigned over the Israelites” (Genesis 36:31–39) is not mere genealogy but a code for primordial events. The Zohar reads these Edomite kings as stages of creation in which the Sefirah of Gevurah (stern judgment/power) was dominant, and because it was unbalanced by Mercy, those early “worlds” collapsed – the mystical doctrine of shevirat ha-kelim (shattering of the vessels).
In Kabbalah, “Edom” symbolizes unbridled severity that “dies” without the mitigating influence of love. Only when a king from Israel (symbolizing the proper balance of attributes under Divine kingship) arises can the world be sustained. What an image: Edom as the prototype of Din without Rachamim (judgment without mercy). This links directly back to Dan, whose trait was Din (judgment). Dan, operating within Israel, had to be tempered by Judah’s chesed; when Dan (din) went rogue (idolatry and isolation), it spelled disaster. Edom, operating outside Israel, represented din run amok – but through John Hyrcanus’s forced qahal (assembly) integration and through Rome’s encounters with Israel’s God, that wild din might eventually be tamed. The Zohar also speaks of holy sparks trapped in the realms of evil (the kelipot) that must be rescued. One could say Dan “lost sparks” and Edom holds some sparks, and history is the process of God using Israel (even exiled Israel like Dan) to retrieve those sparks from Edom. Indeed, a Zohar comment on Joseph weeping over his brothers (Gen. 45:15) says he wept for the future exile of the Ten Tribes – implying their exile had a redemptive role to play in the far-flung lands.
All these threads converge on an astonishing possibility: the redemption to come involves both the reclaiming of lost Israelites (like Dan) and the redeeming of estranged nations (like Edom). The covenantal assembly (qahal) of God is strict (koach of holiness) – it does not lightly include idolaters or the uncircumcised. Yet God’s plan, hinted in Scripture and amplified in Midrash/Zohar, is to enlarge the tent of Israel by eventually bringing back those who were cast far off (Dan and his companions) and even welcoming erstwhile enemies who surrender in faith (Edom transformed). The Hasmonean-era fusion of Edomites was a shadow of this: done by force and with political motives, it was hardly the idyllic vision of “all nations flowing to the House of the Lord” (Isaiah 2:2). But it set a precedent: bloodlines shifted, showing that who is “inside” or “outside” the covenant can change. Edom became as a Jew, and some Jews (like Dan) became as Gentiles. The boundaries of the qahal were both enforced and transcended, a dynamic tension that only God’s mystery can resolve.
Covenant Mystery and Redemption: Beyond Literal Tribalism
Revelation’s portrayal of 144,000 Israelites, sealed from every tribe (except Dan), followed immediately by “a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, tribe, people, and tongue”worshiping God (Rev. 7:9-14), is a vision of ultimate redemption that brings our discussion full circle. The 144,000 is not a headcount of ethnic Jews in the end times in any simplistic sense. As many Christian scholars note, apocalyptic literature uses numbers symbolically—12 representing the fullness of God’s people (the tribes; also the Twelve Apostles), and 1,000 representing completeness or wholeness . Indeed, 144,000 (12×12×1000) signifies the perfected Israel of God.
Futurist and Dispensationalist readers who insist this must refer to a literal 144,000 Jews, with a literal resurgence of tribal identities (minus Dan), arguably miss the richly layered symbolism John employs. Conversely, Supersessionist readers who dismiss the tribal list as irrelevant to the Church miss the point that John deliberately uses Israel’s tribal schema to describe the people of God, even as he universalizes it. The solution to this apparent tension lies in covenantal mystery: the 144,000 and the innumerable multitude are two facets of the same redeemed community.
John hears the numbered tribes of Israel, but sees a multinational multitude – indicating that the Church (the multitude) in its redeemed state is integrally linked to Israel (the 144k). It is Israel reconstituted and enlarged, with every “tribe” accounted for in a spiritual sense, and with faithful from every nationgrafted in. This is precisely the vision of the prophets: “In that day the Lord will extend his hand yet a second time to recover the remnant of his people… He will raise a signal for the nations and will assemble the outcasts of Israel” (Isaiah 11:11-12). Both Gentiles and outcast Israelites have a place in the final picture.
From this vantage, the omission of Dan in the list is not a condemnation of Dan to perdition; it is a rhetorical and theological move. Dan stands outside the list as if to say: “Yes, some of God’s people were lost – but God has not forgotten them.” The echo of Jacob’s “liyshu’atkha qiviti Adonai” (“For Your salvation I wait, O Lord”) hangs over Revelation 7 without being said. In fact, later in Revelation (chapter 21), when John sees the New Jerusalem, he notices something telling: the city has twelve gates, and on the gates are inscribed the names of the twelve tribes of the sons of Israel (Rev. 21:12). We are not told which names are on those gates, but dare we imagine Dan’s name might reappear there?
It is hard to imagine an eternal city of Israel’s tribes permanently excluding one of the patriarchs. The 144,000 scene was about purity in mission (hence Dan, associated with idolatry, was set aside in that context ). But the New Jerusalem scene is about total inclusion – all tribes, and indeed all nations (Rev. 21:24, “the nations will walk by its light”). Jewish exegesis, too, contemplates Dan’s return. The prophet Ezekiel, in his grand vision of the tribal divisions in the restored land (Ezekiel 48), lists Dan first among the tribes to receive territory in the Messianic age (Ezek. 48:1).
The one who was last becomes first – a beautiful reversal that mirrors the Gospel’s own paradoxical proclamations. It is as if God says, “Dan, you may have thought yourself cut off, but see, I give you the first inheritance in the renewed kingdom.” In Ezekiel’s list, all twelve tribes (including Dan and including Ephraim under the name of Joseph and Manasseh) are present, unlike Revelation’s selective list. Different lists for different messages: Ezekiel’s list is territorial (land inheritance) and signals wholeness; Revelation’s list is symbolic (spiritual warriors sealed for God) and signals sanctification and mission. Both, however, point to a redemptive completeness that is not arbitrarily tribal but covenantally inclusive.
Bringing Edom back into the picture, we see that who constitutes Israelin the end is far broader than physical descent from Jacob. The saga of Edom’s incorporation under the Hasmoneans and the subsequent labeling of Rome as “Edom” set the stage for an amazing outcome: the Messiah’s message (carried by Jewish apostles) would take root in Rome itself.
Historically, Christianity spread through the Roman Empire – in a sense, Edom/Rome was hearing the word of Israel’s God. Early Jewish Christians might have seen this as a fulfillment of Amos 9:11–12, where God says He will raise David’s fallen tent “that the remnant of Edom (Edom in Hebrew, mankind in the Greek version) and all the nations… may seek the Lord”. James the Just, in Acts 15:14-18, actually quotes that prophecy to validate the influx of Gentiles into the Church, effectively equating “Edom” with the nations called by God’s name. From a Jewish viewpoint, this could be construed as Edom’s chance to join the covenant – not by forced conversion as in John Hyrcanus’ day, but by sincere faith in the God of Israel and His Messiah.
In Rabbinic terms, one might say Edom is undergoing a tikkun (rectification). The irony is rich: Edom (Rome) destroyed the Second Temple, but through Messiah, Edom ends up helping build the spiritual Temple of God’s worldwide community. The Zohar’s vision of sparks of holiness in Edom being recovered finds a parallel in Paul’s teaching that Gentiles are wild olive branches grafted into Israel’s olive tree (Romans 11:17-26). Paul even holds out hope that “all Israel will be saved” – including the regrafting of Israel’s own broken-off branches (the unbelieving Jews) and, implicitly, the fullness of the Gentiles coming in. In that fullness, we might discern Dan (the lost Israel) and Edom (the former Gentile) both finding their place.
Ultimately, the exclusion and inclusion we see in prophetic lists are symbolic pedagogy. God “omits” one tribe in one context and “includes” another in a different context to teach theological truths, not to permanently excise people. No tribe is hopelessly lost, and no nation is permanently estranged when the final redemption dawns. The Book of Revelation, read in the spirit of Torat Edom and Jewish midrash, emphasizes covenantal identity over bloodline. The 144,000 are sealed servants of God – a term denoting faithful witness – drawn from the array of Israel’s tribes to signify the Church’s continuity with Israel.
Dan’s omission warns that apostasy has no place among God’s sealed ones (just as idolatry was purged). Yet the story isn’t complete without Dan’s restoration, which Revelation hints at by its interplay of images and which Jewish sources explicitly affirm in the end of days. Edom’s role further reminds us that God’s covenant family was always meant to expand. Israel was chosen “to be a light to the nations” (Isa. 49:6), and that light is not meant to exclude the nations but to draw them in – even the nation (Edom/Rome) that for a time epitomized enmity. As the Zohar-inspired mystics might say: the strictness of “qahal” (guarding holiness within the community) must ultimately be balanced with the compassion of “kohel” (the gatherer who brings in all who are destined for redemption).
In Part One, we challenged eschatologies that either divide Israel from the Church (Dispensationalism) or erase Israel in favor of the Church (Supersessionism). The saga of Dan and Edom reinforces that challenge. God’s plan is neither a rigidly separate track for ethnic Israel nor a simple replacement of Israel with a Gentile Church. Instead, it is a mystical synergy: a faithful remnant of Israel (symbolized by the 11 tribes listed, with Levi and Joseph elevated) plus the fullness of the nations (foreshadowed by Edom’s inclusion) plus the return of lost Israel (Dan).
This is a family reunion of cosmic proportions – truly, “all Israel” in the broadest covenantal sense. As the Apostle Paul envisioned, it’s like the drama of Jacob and Esau reconciled: “For if their rejection means the reconciliation of the world, what will their acceptance mean but life from the dead?” (Rom. 11:15). In the end, Dan is not really missing, and Edom is not ultimately excluded. Both find their place in the redeemed Israel of God, which is identical with the perfected Church composed of Jews and Gentiles in Messiah.
Conclusion: The First and the Last, the Lost and the Found
In the tapestry of God’s redemptive story, Dan and Edom occupy opposite corners, yet the finished design brings them into the pattern by the Master’s hand. Dan, a tribal son of Israel, wandered and was “lost,” while Edom, a hostile neighbor, was grafted in (albeit awkwardly). Scripture’s prophecies and the rabbinic imagination ensure neither is forgotten in the End of Days.
The omission of Dan in Revelation’s 144,000 is a severe mercy – a statement that purity and loyalty to God are paramount for those sealed in tribulation. But beyond that moment, mercy triumphs over judgment. The same God who disciplines (letting Dan be sifted) also promises restoration (giving Dan the first portion in Ezekiel’s vision). Likewise, the visions of Edom’s doom are tempered by visions of Gentiles streaming to Zion. The Zoharic lens may describe Edom as unbalanced Gevurah that had to “die,” but Kabbalah also insists on tikkun – repair. The sparks of Edom will be uplifted, and the fierceness of Dan will be harnessed in holiness.
In the final analysis, the 144,000 sealed from Israel represent the inner core of God’s people (spiritually pure, strictly within covenant), while the uncountable multitude represents the outer radius (overflowing grace toward all peoples). Between them stands the figure of Dan and Edom – reminding us that God’s grace has edges we don’t always comprehend. It excludes in order to ultimately include more deeply. It hides a face in order to reveal a greater glory. As Paul exclaimed regarding Israel’s twists and turns: “Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable His judgments, and His paths beyond tracing out!” (Rom. 11:33).
Dan and Edom teach us that covenantal identity is a mystery of grace. It is not earned by pedigree, nor voided by temporary failure.
The 144,000 symbolism tells a story not of tribal favoritism, but of God’s faithfulness to preserve a holy remnant and to redeem a people for Himself from all nations. The lens of Torat Edom helped us see that what may look like ethnic or tribal preference in prophecy is really about ethical and spiritual qualification – about who truly belongs to God. In the end, those who belong will include many once thought lost (a prodigal Dan coming home) and many once thought enemy (a prodigal Edom coming in). As Rashi and the Midrashim showed, even the darkest prophecies (Jacob calling Dan a snake) carried a hidden light of hope (the snake that becomes a symbol of Messiah) . The Christian and Jewish sources we’ve surveyed together affirm this hope: God will bring all His sons and daughters in, each in their order. Some gates of the New Jerusalem may have the names of Judah, Levi, or Joseph – and perhaps one gate, we can imagine, gleaming with the name Dan. And who can say that among the kings of the earth who bring their splendor into that City (Rev. 21:24), there won’t be one formerly known as Edom?
In a sense, Dan and Edom need each other: Dan’s story shows that being “born in” is no guarantee, and Edom’s story shows that being “born out” is no permanent barrier. God is able to cut off branches and graft them in again . His covenant is strictly just and radically merciful all at once. This integrated vision undermines the oversimplifications of Futurism and Dispensationalism (which often segregate God’s plan for Jews and Gentiles too sharply) and of Supersessionism (which often flattens the unique covenantal language of Israel). Instead, we find a dynamic interplay: Israel’s story encompasses the nations, and the nations’ salvation magnifies Israel’s restoration. The 144,000 and the multitude are one choir, singing in harmony.
In closing, the omission of Dan in Revelation is a symbolic riddle – one that invites us to dig into Jewish lore and biblical typology to solve it. In doing so, we uncover a tale of exile and return, of judgment and redemption. It cautions us against triumphalism and exclusionary theology. After all, if God could both exclude Dan (for a time) and then include Dan (at the end), and if He could include Edom (for a time) and still warn of judgment on Edom (in the prophets), then surely His ways are higher than our ways.
The list of tribes in Revelation 7 is thus a covenantal mystery – a poetic cipher of God’s saving plan. It points not to a tribal calculus of the end-times, but to the Redeemer Himself, who holds the key to each tribe’s fate. As Jacob foresaw, “For Your salvation I wait, O LORD!” – ultimately, the 144,000 (with Dan’s absence) and the multitude (with Edom’s presence) both point to the same glorious reality: the salvation of our God, who is gathering all Israel – from Judah and Levi to Dan, and from every Gentile nation, even Edom – into one redeemed people. This is the mystery now revealed, and it redounds to the praise of the One who is “the First and the Last” – He who has inscribed each of our names, not just on the gates of the city, but on the palms of His hands.
Sources:
Rashi’s commentary on Genesis 49:16-18, which links Dan’s fate to Samson’s story .
Midrashic traditions (Beresheet Rabbah 98:14; Yalkut Shimoni 1:160) identifying Samson as a potential messiah and Mashiach’s lineage coming through Dan .
Mayim Achronim essays on Dan and Mashiach, detailing Dan’s mission of gathering “lost sparks” and the Dan–Judah partnership in redemption .
The Zohar (I, 209b) on Joseph’s tears for the Ten Tribes ; Zoharic/Kabbalistic interpretations of the “Kings of Edom” as unbalanced Gevurah .
Historical accounts of Idumean (Edomite) conversion under John Hyrcanus , and analysis of Edom = Rome = Christianity in rabbinic thought (see TheTorah.com, G. Rubin, “The Denigration of Esau”).
New Testament and patristic references: Revelation 7; Ezekiel 48; Acts 15:16-17 (quoting Amos 9:11-12 about Edom/nations); Hippolytus On Christ and Antichrist 14-15 on Antichrist from Dan .
Talmud Sanhedrin 110b on the Ten Tribes’ return (dispute between R. Akiva and R. Eliezer).
The interplay of these sources confirms the covenantal and symbolic approach to the 144,000 and the tribes, as argued above, rather than a literal tribalist interpretation.
