A Critique of Christian Eschatology
Through the Lens of Torat Edom
Introduction
In the panorama of biblical prophecy, few symbols loom as large as the mysterious 144,000 of the Book of Revelation and Paul’s cryptic phrase “the fullness of the Gentiles” in Romans 11:25. At first glance, these might seem unrelated – one a vision of Israel’s tribes in the Apocalypse, the other a Pauline comment on Gentile fate – yet a closer reading reveals a profound thematic overlap. Notably, the tribe of Manasseh is explicitly included among Revelation’s 144,000, while Paul’s phrase “fullness of the Gentiles” alludes to Jacob’s ancient blessing that Ephraim (Manasseh’s brother) would become a mĕlo-hagoyim, a “fullness of nations” . These connections point to a common thread: the destiny of Israel intertwined with that of the nations.
In the panorama of biblical prophecy, few symbols loom as large as the mysterious 144,000 of the Book of Revelation and Paul’s cryptic phrase “the fullness of the Gentiles” in Romans 11:25. At first glance, these might seem unrelated – one a vision of Israel’s tribes in the Apocalypse, the other a Pauline comment on Gentile fate – yet a closer reading reveals a profound thematic overlap. Notably, the tribe of Manasseh is explicitly included among Revelation’s 144,000, while Paul’s phrase “fullness of the Gentiles” alludes to Jacob’s ancient blessing that Ephraim (Manasseh’s brother) would become a mĕlo-hagoyim, a “fullness of nations” . These connections point to a common thread: the destiny of Israel intertwined with that of the nations.
This essay will argue that mainstream Christian eschatologies – Futurist, Dispensationalist, and Supersessionist – have misinterpreted these themes, twisting Israel’s covenantal identity to fit Gentile-centered frameworks. In contrast, a perspective grounded in Torat Edom (a Torah-based lens on “Edom,” the traditional Jewish moniker for Rome/Christianity) offers a corrective that re-centers the discussion on Israel’s irrevocable covenant, tribal heritage, and the prophetic mystery of redemption.
We will draw on Jewish sages (Rashi, Saadia Gaon, Radak, Ramban, and others) as well as established Christian and Jewish scholarship to examine how tribal identity, exile, and salvation are understood within Judaism – and how the “Church” has often claimed an authority over Israel’s destiny that it cannot rightfully possess. In doing so, we aim to reorient the conversation away from literalist or nationalistic end-time scenarios and toward a more spiritual, covenantal, and mysterious understanding of prophecy.
Manasseh and the 144,000 in Revelation’s Vision
One of the focal points of Christian end-time teaching is the prophecy of the sealing of 144,000 servants of God in Revelation 7. The text specifies that these 144,000 come “from every tribe of the sons of Israel”, listing twelve tribes by name (with 12,000 from each) . Curiously, the list in Revelation 7:4–8 includes Manasseh (one of Joseph’s sons) but omits Dan; furthermore, it mentions “the tribe of Joseph”, which by context represents Ephraim (since Manasseh is already listed). This unusual tribal roster has long puzzled interpreters. Many Christian Futurists and Dispensationalists, reading Revelation as a blueprint of future events, take the 144,000 at face value as an end-times group of ethnic Israelites. In fact, most dispensationalist commentators identify the 144,000 as literal Jews who will live during a future Tribulation period.
For example, a dispensationalist reading sees Revelation 7 as describing 144,000 Jewish individuals “to be saved during a literal 7-year tribulation at the end of time” – often envisioning them as a cadre of Jewish evangelists preaching before the Second Coming. Such a reading treats the tribal designations in Revelation as straightforward and ethnonational: “there is no reason to think that the people referred to here are anyone other than the Jewish people”, as one futurist writer flatly states.
However, Torat Edom prompts us to question whether John’s vision was ever meant to be read in such a strictly literal and nationalistic manner. The Apocalypse is a highly symbolic text steeped in Tanakh imagery, and a Jewish lens discerns deeper significance in John’s tribal list. The inclusion of Manasseh (and by extension Ephraim, under Joseph’s name) subtly harkens back to the Torah’s account of Jacob blessing Joseph’s sons. In Genesis 48, Jacob adopts Ephraim and Manasseh as his own and prophesies that Ephraim’s descendants will become “a multitude of nations” – goyim, often translated “nations” or “Gentiles” . The Hebrew phrase used is mĕlo-hagoyim, literally “fullness of the nations,” which is strikingly echoed by Paul’s term pleroma tōn ethnōn (“fullness of the Gentiles”) in Romans 11:25. Rashi, quoting Midrash Genesis Rabbah 97:7, explains Jacob’s blessing to mean that Ephraim’s fame and influence will “fill the nations” of the world.
Other Jewish commentators reinforce this: Rabbi Saadia Gaon understood mĕlo-hagoyim to mean Ephraim’s seed will form “full-fledged nations,” and Radak (Rabbi David Kimchi) interpreted it as “world-filling nations” . In other words, the legacy of Joseph’s tribes was to spread far and wide among the peoples. By naming Manasseh in the list, Revelation’s author may be invoking this prophetic context – the idea that Israel’s blessing extends outward to encompass the nations in some way.
Christian interpreters through history have noticed that the 144,000 number (12×12×1000) appears symbolic: it could signify the fullness and perfection of God’s people. Supersessionist readers (especially in Augustinian or Reformed traditions) have often taken it symbolically, arguing that the “Israel” of Revelation 7 really denotes the Church – the “New Israel” composed of believers from all ethnicities. One modern Christian commentator, for instance, asserts that with Christ’s coming, “the chosen people were no longer simply the nation of Israel. In Christ, the ‘True Israel’ was formed… made up of both Jews and Gentiles”, and thus the 144,000 sealed servants represent this True Israel (the Church) rather than ethnic Jews. To bolster this, they point to the next scene in Revelation 7:9 – the “great multitude” from every nation – as essentially the same group seen from another angle.
By this reading, the tribal names are allegorical and 144,000 is a symbolic number indicating completeness of the Church. Indeed, some theologians have noted the number 144,000 (12×12×1000) could symbolize the fullness of God’s people: 12 tribes of Israel times 12 apostles (linking Israel and the Church), times 1,000 (a number of totality or military completeness). Such an interpretation dovetails with supersessionism, the doctrine that the Church has inherited Israel’s covenant promises and identity. Terrence Donaldson succinctly defines supersessionism as the claim “that the church has replaced Israel in the divine purposes and has inherited all that was positive in Israel’s tradition”. In this view, the literal tribes are less important than what they signify spiritually – the Church as the new people of God.
From a Jewish perspective, both the strict literalist-futurist reading and the wholesale allegorical-supersessionist reading are deeply problematic.
The futurist Dispensationalist approach correctly insists that the 144,000 are Israelites, not generic Christians , but it often treats them as a pawn in a Christian timeline (e.g. a missionary force during the “Church’s rapture absence”) rather than understanding Israel on its own terms. It is fixated on literal numbers and chronology, assuming an exact tally of 144,000 Jews in the end-times, and often tied to a political restoration of Israel – a paradigm of end-time nationalism that can veer into speculation about identifying those 144,000 (sometimes prompting fringe theories about “lost tribes” in Western nations or among current Jewish populations).
The supersessionist approach, on the other hand, virtually erases the tribal distinctions and the Jewish particularity of the text, seeing the enumeration of Israel’s tribes as merely a coded way to talk about the multinational Church. This reflects the classic replacement theology stance: the followers of Jesus have “replaced ‘Israel according to the flesh’ as the covenant community” , and prophecies about Israel are reapplied to the Church. Both approaches – one overly literal, the other overly allegorical – miss the mark set by Torat Edom and Jewish tradition. Revelation’s vision can be read as neither a banal census of future Jewish evangelists nor a cipher for Gentile Christians, but as a prophetic mystery affirming God’s faithfulness to Israel’s full covenant*. The sealing of 12,000 from each tribe (including Manasseh/Ephraim) symbolizes the fullness of Israel brought to redemption – “kol Yisrael” (all Israel) in a spiritual sense – which in turn blesses the nations. It deliberately echoes Israel’s tribal identities (not erasing them), yet it sets them in a scenario (the end of days) where their role impacts “a great multitude from every nation” (Rev. 7:9).
In Jewish apocalyptic expectations, the ingathering of all tribes is a key element of the final redemption, as seen in Ezekiel’s vision of two sticks (representing Judah and Joseph) being joined into one . God declares, “I will take the stick of Joseph, which is in the hand of Ephraim… and I will put them with the stick of Judah… I will gather them from all around and bring them into their own land, and I will make them one nation… and one king shall be king for all of them”. Revelation’s 144,000 imagery is resonant with this Jewish hope: it affirms each tribe’s place in the redeemed community and foresees their reunion under the Messianic Lamb on Mount Zion (Rev. 14:1). Thus, through a Torah lens, the 144,000 signal neither a Gentile church’s self-portrait nor a trivial statistic, but the faithfulness of God to the twelve tribes of Israel, whose restoration brings about blessings for all peoples.
“The Fullness of the Gentiles” in Paul’s Mystery
The Apostle Paul’s use of the phrase “the fullness of the Gentiles”(Greek: pleroma tōn ethnōn) occurs in a similarly charged context – Romans 11 – where the discussion centers on the fate of Israel and the Gentiles in God’s plan. Paul, a Jew steeped in Torah, surely knew the Genesis passage about Ephraim’s mĕlo-hagoyim. It is no coincidence that he employs this rare concept when speaking of Israel’s future. In Romans 11:25–26, Paul writes: “A partial hardening has happened to Israel until the fullness of the Gentiles has come in; and so all Israel will be saved”. He explicitly labels this a “mystery” (μυστήριον), urging Gentile believers not to be arrogant or ignorant about it. Unfortunately, arrogance and ignorance are precisely what later interpretations displayed: many Gentile-dominated theologies treated this passage not as a humble mystery but as a code to be cracked or, worse, a validation of Gentile preeminence.
Dispensationalist readers typically interpret “the fullness of the Gentiles” as a quantitative term – the full number of Gentiles who will be saved in the “Church age.” Evangelical interpretations often paraphrase it as the moment when a predetermined number of Gentiles have come to Christ, after which God will turn his attention back to Israel . For example, a popular evangelical commentary explains that Israel’s spiritual hardening will last “until the divinely set number of Gentiles are saved”, quoting a modern Bible translation that renders the phrase as “until the full number of Gentiles comes to Christ” . In dispensational theology, this aligns with the idea of the “Church Age” having a completion point (sometimes identified with the rapture of the Church). At that point, the Gentile mission reaches its climax (“fullness”), and then “all Israel will be saved” – which they interpret as a large-scale conversion of Jews (or restoration of Israel) during the end-times tribulation and millennial kingdom . In short, this view maintains a distinction between Israel and the Church (rejecting supersessionism), but relegates Israel’s salvation to a future era after God finishes gathering Gentiles now. The Futurist outlook embedded here is that prophecy like Romans 11:25-26 maps onto a timeline: first Gentiles enter the kingdom to the fullest extent (now), then later Israel as a nation will experience a revival. While this view does uphold that Israel has a destiny (against replacement theories), it too often treats Israel as a secondary player — “on hold” while the Gentile church is the primary focus of the Gospel era.
On the other hand, Supersessionist interpretations (especially in older Christian thought) sometimes read “until the fullness of the Gentiles comes in” as implying that once the Gentiles have entered God’s people, “all Israel” is effectively redefined. In this view, “all Israel will be saved” was taken by some to mean the Church (consisting of Jews andGentiles) will be saved. This allowed replacement theologians to claim that Israel as an ethnic entity was no longer relevant once the Gentiles had come into the covenant – thus nullifying the plain meaning of Paul’s next verses that “the gifts and calling of God [to Israel] are irrevocable” (Rom. 11:29). Such readings arose from the presupposition that the Jewish people’s role had expired due to unbelief, and that the “true Israel” was now the spiritual community of Christians. Historically, by the second and third centuries, this punitive form of supersessionism – the idea that God “punishes Israel for its sins by revoking its covenantal status and transferring it to the Church” – became mainstream in Christian theology. Thus, some church fathers could envision “the fullness of Gentiles” as simply the era of the Church’s dominance, after which there might not even be a distinct promise left for Jewish Israel (aside from individual conversions).
Jewish interpretive tradition, as reflected in Torat Edom, offers a different framework for understanding Paul’s mystery – one that keeps Israel at the center without devolving into triumphalism or rigid literalism. First, it’s important to note that Paul’s language affirms that Israel (in the ethnic sense of the Jewish people) remains “his [God’s] people” and will not be forsaken. Earlier in Romans 11, Paul asks rhetorically, “Has God cast away His people? Heaven forbid!” and identifies himself as an Israelite of Benjamin to prove a faithful remnant exists. This aligns with the Jewish belief, grounded in the Torah and prophets, that God’s covenant with Israel is eternal. The prophet Jeremiah, for instance, declared that Israel will never cease to be a nation before God’s eyes as surely as the fixed order of sun, moon, and stars endures (Jer. 31:35–36). The covenant with Israel cannot be voided – a principle Maimonides (Rambam) emphatically taught in his Epistle to Yemen and elsewhere to counter Christian claims. Nachmanides (Ramban), in his 13th-century disputation in Barcelona, pointed to verses like Leviticus 26:44 (where God says He will not reject Israel utterly even in exile) to insist that Israel’s destiny with God is secure, regardless of their current state. This foundational truth is the backdrop to any discussion of “fullness of Gentiles.” Paul himself, in Romans 11, is essentially reiterating what the Hebrew Bible and sages knew: Israel may undergo cycles of judgment and mercy, but “for the sake of My covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob” they remain God’s people. The Talmud (in Tractate Sanhedrin 110b) preserves a debate on the return of the lost ten tribes, where one sage (Rabbi Akiva) pessimistically says they will not return, but another (Rabbi Eliezer) and many later commentators uphold that ultimately all tribes will be restored . The consensus in Jewish hope is captured by the daily prayer: “Gather our exiles from the four corners of the earth” – a plea for both Judah and Ephraim’s descendants. Paul’s mystery, then, can be understood as a reflection of this expectation: there is a measure of Gentile inclusion that must unfold in history, intertwined with Israel’s own redemption.
What is this “fullness of the Gentiles” from a Torah perspective? The Jewish sages provide clues. As noted, Jacob’s blessing said Ephraim’s seed would become the fullness of the nations. This was interpreted not as the nullification of Ephraim’s Israelite identity, but as a prediction of his descendants’ impact on and among the nations. We saw how Saadia Gaon, Radak, and others understood it: Ephraim’s seed would proliferate and even lead among the nations . One midrashic interpretation (cited by Rashi) envisioned that Ephraim’s fame would fill the world, exemplified by the biblical figure Joshua (an Ephraimite) whose miracles (like stopping the sun) were known worldwide . If Paul indeed alludes to this, he might be hinting that “the fullness of the Gentiles” involves the ingathering or completion of those from Israel scattered among the Gentiles – or at least the fulfillment of Israel’s mission to be a light to the Gentiles. Notably, Paul does not say “the end of the Gentiles” or “the replacement of Israel by Gentiles”; he uses the word fullness (pleroma), suggesting something cumulative and abundant, not destructive. Torat Edom would read this as the **culmination of God’s plan where the nations come to partake in blessings without displacing Israel. In Jewish eschatology, the nations have a role – for example, Zechariah 8:23 envisions ten men of every nation grabbing the cloak of a Jew to go seek God, and Isaiah speaks of Gentiles coming to Jerusalem to worship in the messianic age. Paul’s mystery fits this pattern: a stage of history where Gentiles are streaming in, as it were, to the knowledge of Israel’s God. The key point is the sequence and relationship: Paul says Israel’s hardening is partial and temporary, and that Gentile influx somehow leads to “all Israel” being saved.
Rather than read this as a strict chronological program (as dispensationalists do) or as a theological transfer (as supersessionists do), the Jewish lens sees it as a dynamic interplay in the divine plan. “All Israel will be saved” is taken by many Jewish commentators (and even some Christian ones) to literally mean the people of Israel (perhaps including the rediscovery of the lost tribes or descendants assimilated among Gentiles) will collectively attain redemption in the end of days.
The “fullness of the Gentiles” can then be understood as the point at which the tide turns – when the era of Gentile domination (both political and religious) ends and the truth of Israel’s covenant is vindicated. Interestingly, some Christian exegetes have proposed that “fullness of Gentiles” might also echo Luke 21:24, where Jesus speaks of “Jerusalem being trampled by Gentiles until the times of the Gentiles are fulfilled.” Jewish thinkers have long identified the current historical epoch as the “Galut Edom” (Exile under Edom/Rome), meaning the period of Gentile (Western/Christian) power over the Holy Land and Israel.
Torat Edom in this sense examines how prophecies envision an end to that dominion. Indeed, many Jewish sages (e.g. Ramban, Abarbanel) interpreted that the fall of “Edom” (Rome/Christianity) in the end times is a necessary prelude to Israel’s full redemption. Paul’s wording can thus be seen to align with Jewish expectation: when the ordained fullness of the Gentile epoch has occurred – reaching its completion in terms of both opportunity to join Israel’s faith and the filling up of their measure – then the focus returns to Israel’s open salvation. The mystery is that the inclusion of Gentiles is itself part of how Israel is ultimately saved. In other words, the Gentiles who come to the God of Israel (through Israel’s Messiah) will in the end provoke, inspire, or participate in Israel’s own restoration (Romans 11:11-15 hints at this dynamic).
Far from Gentiles replacing Israel, Paul sees Gentile believers as grafted into Israel’s olive tree – partners in the covenants of promise, not usurpers (see Romans 11:17-18, Ephesians 2:11-13). Tragically, later Christian tradition often forgot Paul’s olive tree metaphor and instead planted a new tree altogether, cutting off the old root. Torat Edom calls us back to Paul’s actual warning: “do not boast against the branches… remember it is not you who support the root, but the root supports you” (Rom. 11:18). The fullness of the Gentiles, rightly understood, carries a tone of humility: it implies Gentiles coming into the fullness of God’s truth through Israel’s scriptures and Messiah, joining themselves to the commonwealth of Israel – until at last, Israel as a whole (including those branches long seemingly dead) springs back to life. As Paul exclaims, it will be like “life from the dead” (Rom. 11:15). This is a profound prophetic mystery, not a simplistic formula. It resists the pride of both extremes: the pride of a Gentile church thinking it has rendered Israel obsolete, and the pride of a sect that thinks only a small elect of Jews (144k) matter while the rest of Israel remains hardened forever.
Christian Eschatologies Under the Microscope:
Flawed Lenses on Israel and the Covenants
With the above biblical foundations in mind, we can more pointedly critique the major Christian eschatological frameworks – Futurism/Dispensationalism and Supersessionism – for their handling of Israel’s identity and destiny. Each of these systems attempts to reconcile the existence of the Church with the promises to Israel, but according to Torat Edom, each does so in a flawed manner that undermines the eternal covenant.
With the above biblical foundations in mind, we can more pointedly critique the major Christian eschatological frameworks – Futurism/Dispensationalism and Supersessionism – for their handling of Israel’s identity and destiny. Each of these systems attempts to reconcile the existence of the Church with the promises to Israel, but according to Torat Edom, each does so in a flawed manner that undermines the eternal covenant.
Futurist and Dispensationalist readings emerged in their modern form in the 19th and 20th centuries (through figures like John Nelson Darby and the Scofield Reference Bible), and they remain influential in evangelical and fundamentalist circles. They are characterized by a literalist approach to prophecy and a strict division of historical epochs or “dispensations.” In classic Dispensationalism, God has two parallel programs: one for Israel (the earthly, ethnic people with whom He made covenants) and one for the Church (a heavenly people taken mostly from the Gentiles).
According to this view, the Church era is a parenthesis in God’s dealings with Israel – a time when the Jewish people are largely set aside due to unbelief, while salvation is preached among Gentiles. When Romans 11:25 speaks of Israel’s partial hardening “until the fullness of the Gentiles,” dispensationalists see confirmation that we are in the Gentile-focused dispensation now, and that once the last Gentile destined for the Church is in, the “prophetic clock” for Israel will resume. They often correlate this with the rapture: the Church (composed predominantly of Gentiles by number) will be taken up, and then God’s plan for Israel will pick up in the 70th week of Daniel (the Tribulation), during which the 144,000 Jews of Revelation will emerge as a saved remnant to evangelize the world . Ultimately, this leads to Israel’s national repentance at Jesus’ Second Coming and the millennial kingdom where Israel is head of the nations.
While this scenario appears to honor a future for Israel (against outright replacement), it draws criticism on multiple fronts. Torat Edom would question the theological validity of separating God’s people into two categories so starkly. The Tanakh and rabbinic tradition know of only one people of God – Israel – to which Gentiles can attach themselves (as sojourners or converts), but not a dual-track system. By positing a Gentile “Church age” distinct from Israel, dispensationalism inadvertently creates what some call a theological dichotomy that is foreign to Scripture. It suggests the new covenant is for the Gentile Church now and only later applied to Israel, whereas Jeremiah 31 explicitly says the new covenant is with the house of Israel and Judah. It also tends to treat the current ekklesia (assembly of believers in Jesus) as something wholly new, almost unrelated to Israel except in a parenthetical way. This has the effect of diminishing the Jewish roots of the faith and the continuous identity of God’s family. From a Jewish vantage point, one might say dispensationalism over-compartmentalizes God’s plan.
It is commendable for taking prophecies about Israel seriously (e.g. expecting a real return to the land, a rebuilding of the Temple, etc., which many dispensationalists support), but its literalism can veer into an overly carnal and nationalistic expectation. For example, some dispensational teachers focus on geopolitical signs – the establishment of the State of Israel, wars in the Middle East, rebuilding efforts in Jerusalem – as sure fulfillments, sometimes at the expense of the spiritual and ethical dimensions emphasized by the prophets (repentance, justice, recognition of God). There is often a nationalist bent, in that some Christians support Israel primarily to advance an end-time scenario rather than out of genuine respect for Israel’s covenant with God. Torat Edom reminds us that God’s covenant with Israel is not just a plot device in someone’s eschatology; it is a living, mutual relationship of love and obligation (as expressed through the Torah). If Israel is to have a future in God’s plan, it will be on the basis of that covenant of Sinai and promise to the patriarchs, not merely as an actor in a Christian drama.
Moreover, by insisting on a literal 144,000 Jewish evangelists, dispensationalists may be guilty of a subtle form of triumphalism themselves: they can claim a great revival of Jews will occur – but essentially under the umbrella of Christian preaching (often, they envision those 144,000 as converts to Christianity who then evangelize others). This raises the question: is Israel saved as Israel, or as an honorary extension of the Gentile Church? Dispensational language sometimes betrays an attitude that Jewish believers in the end will simply join the Christian side (after the rapture removes the predominantly Gentile Church). The underlying flaw here is a failure to appreciate Israel’s own ongoing role as bearer of God’s revelation. It is often overlooked that Jews have been faithfully preserving God’s Word and His praises throughout the ages, even without embracing Jesus. A Torah-based critique would say: any eschatology in which Jews finally “get it” by essentially converting to a Gentile-defined Christianity is missing the possibility that the Messiah and redemption can be understood through the framework of Torah as well. Jewish commentators like the Rambam envisioned the Messianic era as one where the Jews, far from converting to another religion, would lead humanity in unified worship of HaShem, with the Messiah vindicating the Torah and clarifying its truth. Dispensationalists might be open to that, but their writings often emphasize Israel’s political restoration and a millennial temple with sacrifices as mere fulfillments of prophecy, rather than conveying the deep spiritual reconciliation between Israel and God that the prophets describe (e.g. Zechariah 12:10’s spirit of grace and supplication, or Ezekiel 36’s new heart and spirit). In short, Futurist schemes can become dry bones of prediction without the ruach (spirit) of covenantal intimacy – something Torat Edom seeks to restore by recalling that prophecy is poetic and mysterious, not a simple script.
Supersessionist theology presents a different set of problems. Here the flaw is overtly theological: it effectively nullifies God’s explicit promises to the offspring of Jacob by claiming the Church entirely absorbs them. Supersessionism has had a long run in Christian history, from early thinkers like Justin Martyr and Augustine, through medieval Catholic theology, and into some streams of Protestantism. It taught that because the majority of Jews did not accept Jesus as Messiah, God “transferred the franchise,” so to speak, to a new people – the (mostly Gentile) Church. The biblical covenants were reformulated such that wherever God pledged enduring love or future blessing to Israel, it was reinterpreted as referring to the Church; conversely, curses or judgments remained upon the “obsolete” Jewish people for their obstinacy. This led to a theology where the Church saw itself as “the New Israel” outright. As one scholar explains, “Replacement theology claims that the followers of Jesus have replaced ‘Israel according to the flesh’ as the covenant community” , and that God’s promises to biblical Israel now apply “only in a spiritualized form to the Church.” We saw an example of this thinking in the interpretation of the 144,000 as “the True Israel in Christ” . In such a view, calling the Church Israel is meant to be a compliment (the Church inherits the title of God’s people), but from a Jewish perspective, it is an erasure – a sort of identity theft, even if done with good intentions.
Torat Edom firmly rebuts supersessionism by reasserting the inviolability of Israel’s identity. The prophets and sages of Israel unanimously maintain that Israel remains God’s first-born nation (Exodus 4:22). Gentiles are welcomed to know Israel’s God, but they are grafted in, not swapped in. Paul’s olive tree metaphor (Romans 11) explicitly argues against the idea that Gentile Christians constitute a whole new tree. He calls the Gentile believers a “wild branch” grafted into Israel’s tree, becoming fellow partakers of the rich root (the covenants made with the patriarchs). Moreover, he warns the Gentiles not to boast, for if the natural branches (Jews) were cut off due to unbelief, God can graft them in again more readily – implying God will do so. It’s ironic that this very passage, meant to forestall supersessionist arrogance, was for centuries glossed over or twisted by supersessionists. They often read “and so all Israel will be saved” (Rom 11:26) as “and then the Church – the new Israel – will be saved”or some variation thereof, which is a prime example of reading a text against its grain.
Jewish commentators like Rashi, Radak, and others on the Tanakh passages that Paul references (Hosea’s “Not my people” becoming “Children of the living God,” etc.) always applied them to literal Israel – the very idea of a Gentile church supplanting Israel would be anathema to them. Mizrahi and Sephardi sages such as Rabbi Saadia Gaon (in his Emunot ve-Deot) and later Don Isaac Abarbanel (15th c.), who witnessed the claims of Christendom up close, wrote defenses of Israel’s eternal election. Saadia Gaon taught that the promises of ingathering and redemption must come true for the actual children of Israel; Abarbanel, interpreting Ezekiel and Daniel, insisted that Israel will be rescued from “the yoke of Edom” and that God’s covenant with the patriarchs does not expire. They would point to verses like Isaiah 54:10, where God says, “My covenant of peace shall not be removed”, or Leviticus 26:44 where even in exile God says He will not break the covenant. The Church’s claim to be a “New Israel” was thus seen as a presumptuous fantasy. In Jewish eyes, it was Edom (the Church) trying to steal the birthright of Jacob – a replay of Esau’s attempt to claim the blessing. Interestingly, the Zohar and other kabbalistic texts portray Edom/Rome as attempting to take on the identity of Israel in order to secure the blessings, but ultimately failing and facing judgment for this hubris.
From a practical standpoint, supersessionism also bore rotten fruit: it became a theological foundation for anti-Jewish policies. If Jews were no longer God’s people, their exile was seen as proof of divine rejection, and their stubborn refusal to join the Church only invited contempt or coercion. While our essay’s focus is theological, it must be said that the ethical implications of a doctrine often reveal its truth or falsehood. Jesus said, “by their fruits you shall know them.” The fruits of supersessionism included centuries of marginalization of Jews, forced conversions, expulsions, and worse – all justified by the idea that the Church held God’s favor whereas Jews were “blind” and accursed. This cannot be the plan of the God of Israel who promised to love Israel “with an everlasting love” (Jer. 31:3). Torat Edom exposes supersessionism as a severe deviation from the biblical narrative, one that in effect calls God a liar regarding His covenant. Even many modern Christians have come to admit this; as scholar R. Kendall Soulen noted, since the late 20th century theologians increasingly recognize supersessionism as an “inadequate or problematic account” of God’s relationship with Israel . Some churches have issued statements repenting of replacement theology. Yet, remnants of it survive in subtle forms whenever Christians speak of “spiritual Israel” in a way that downplays the physical peoplehood of Israel.
In summary, Christian eschatologies falter by either over-literalizing and segregating God’s plan (futurist dispensationalism) or by over-spiritualizing and assimilating it (supersessionism). Both, in different ways, seek to claim interpretive authority over Israel’s identity: either by charting Israel’s future on a Gentile-devised timeline, or by absorbing Israel into a Gentile-dominated ecclesia. Torat Edom – the perspective of Torah applied to the phenomena of “Edom” (Christianity) – finds both approaches wanting. The former lacks a true understanding of Israel’s spiritual role (treating Israel as mere players in a drama), and the latter lacks respect for Israel’s distinct election (treating the Church as having surpassed Israel).
Tribal Identity, Exile, and Covenant in Jewish Tradition
To further clarify the corrective of Torat Edom, we should articulate how Jewish tradition conceives of tribal identity, exile, and redemption. Within Judaism, “Israel” (Yisrael) is a multi-layered identity: it is tribal (descendants of the twelve sons of Jacob), religious (bearers of the Torah covenant), and spiritual (the congregation of souls faithful to HaShem). These layers are intertwined, not easily separable. The tribes of Israel maintain their significance throughout Tanakh – in the book of Ezekiel (ch. 48) even the future idealized division of the land is given by tribes, and each tribe’s name is inscribed on the gates of the new Jerusalem. This enduring tribal framework contradicts any idea that a new Gentile entity could simply take over. Jewish sages like Radak and Ramban comment on prophetic passages that list the tribes (e.g., Ezekiel’s restoration prophecies) to emphasize that all tribes, including those exiled long ago, are destined to partake in the final redemption. Radak explicitly states, commenting on Hosea and Amos, that the Ten Lost Tribes will ultimately be reunited with Judah . Even though their exact whereabouts became a mystery, and some individuals from them assimilated into Judah (as Talmud Megillah 14a notes ), the concept of “Kol Yisrael” – all Israel – always included those missing branches in potential.
This is why Paul’s phrase “all Israel will be saved” rings true to Jewish ears (once freed from supersessionist misuse). It echoes the rabbinic dictum from the Mishnah: “All Israel has a share in the world to come” (Sanhedrin 10:1). Not “all humanity” unconditionally, but all Israel – because of God’s covenant. Now, Judaism certainly allows Gentiles a share in the world to come as well (the righteous of the nations, as per Tosefta Sanhedrin 13:2, “the pious of the nations have a place in the world to come”). But when it comes to covenantal status, to be part of God’s people one must either be born into Israel or join oneself to Israel. The prototypical example of joining is Ruth the Moabitess, whose declaration “Your people shall be my people, and your God my God” (Ruth 1:16) epitomizes conversion – a change of peoplehood, not just a personal spiritual choice.
The Church under supersessionism circumvented this by implying one could be God’s people without Israel – effectively, Gentiles could become God’s people while Israel ceased to be so. In contrast, Judaism’s door was always open for Gentiles to enter the covenant (albeit through formal conversion or in messianic times through acknowledgment of Israel’s God and Messiah), but it never conceived of Israel’s door being shut and replaced by another. Maimonides, in his famous Letter to Ovadiah the Proselyte, emphasized that a convert is fully part of Israel: “no difference exists between you and us,” he writes to the convert, “and all miracles done to us have been done as it were to us and to you”. He even tells Ovadiah to proudly say “God of our fathers” in prayers, because Abraham has become his spiritual father. This illustrates the Torah concept of covenant: it is familial and adoptive, not contractual and replaceable. A Gentile can be adopted into the family of Israel (and then the family just got bigger), but God will not disown His first family and swap them out wholesale.
Jewish tradition also speaks of “the fullness of the Gentiles” in another way: in the Midrash, there is an idea that the world’s history is like a measure being filled with sins or merits of nations, and that when the measure is full, judgment comes. For instance, Genesis Rabbah 44:21 comments that God waited to give Abraham the land because the “iniquity of the Amorites was not yet complete” (cf. Gen. 15:16). By analogy, some have suggested (including a few Church fathers) that “fullness of the Gentiles” could also mean the Gentiles reaching a full measure – either of conversion or of iniquity – before the end. The Torat Edom perspective might hint at both: the Gentile world will reach a fullness in terms of opportunity to embrace truth (the gospel going out to all nations, as per Isaiah 11:10, “the nations will seek” the Root of Jesse), and also a fullness in terms of its era of dominion. Jewish apocalyptic writings (like those in the Dead Sea Scrolls or later commentaries) often portray the kingdoms of the Gentiles having allotted times. For example, the Zohar (II:17a) describes the rule of “Edom” over Jerusalem lasting until a certain time, after which deliverance comes.
Paul’s terminology in Romans 11 can thus be seen as aligning well with a Jewish apocalyptic sense: Gentile powers and presences are part of God’s plan until a set fullness, and then God’s focus returns to redeem Israel openly. It is critical to note that none of this implies Gentiles are excluded from salvation; rather, it implies Gentiles must find their place in relation to Israel, not apart from or against Israel. This is precisely what Torat Edom advocates: that the Church must not see itself as an independent Gentile entity with a separate identity, but as part of the unfolding story of Israel’s God. The Church’s error was in failing to remain grafted humbly; instead it fashioned a boastful identity that often demeaned its own root.
Finally, Jewish tradition emphasizes the element of mystery and humility regarding end-times scenarios. “Torat Edom” as a corrective reminds both Jews and Christians that not everything is revealed and clear-cut. In the Talmud (Sanhedrin 97b), it is said that “Three come unawares: Messiah, a found article, and a scorpion”, highlighting that Messiah’s coming is inherently surprising. Ramban commented that many prophecies will only be understood in hindsight. This humility was lacking in many Christian eschatology circles, where intricate charts and confident predictions often took center stage.
Dispensationalists in the 1970s, for example, confidently identified the European Economic Community as the ten-horned beast or predicted specific dates for the rapture – all of which failed. Supersessionists confidently claimed God was done with literal Israel – only to be confounded by the remarkable survival and rebirth of the Jewish people, especially the establishment of modern Israel in 1948, which forced some to revisit their theology. Torat Edom would counsel a return to yirat Shamayim – fear of Heaven – in approaching prophetic texts. These are divine mysteries, and human systems (be it dispensational charts or ecclesiastical decrees) should not overshadow the actual words of Scripture and the insights of those who received them (the Jewish sages). The fullness of the Gentiles and the salvation of Israel are God’s work; our task is to align with His covenant, not to dictate its terms.
Reorienting the Conversation: The Corrective Lens of Torat Edom
Having examined these themes, we can summarize how viewing Christian eschatology through the lens of Torat Edom reorients our understanding. The phrase “Torat Edom” implies using the Torah perspective to evaluate the theology that came out of Edom (i.e., Rome/Christianity). It is a call to subject Christian interpretive claims to the scrutiny of the enduring truths of the Torah and Jewish tradition. What emerges is a more holistic and spiritual vision of God’s plan, as opposed to the often reductive or self-serving visions offered by various Christian systems.
1. Israel’s Covenantal Identity is Non-Negotiable: The foremost principle is that Israel – the people descended from Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, with whom God made an everlasting covenant – cannot be redefined, replaced, or superseded. Any theology that suggests otherwise is fundamentally flawed. “I am the LORD, I change not; therefore you sons of Jacob are not consumed,” says God in Malachi 3:6. Torat Edom reinforces that the Church does not have the authority to overwrite Israel’s role. Instead of the Church teaching Israel “who it is,” the proper relationship is the Church learning from Israel’s scriptures and history about the character of God. Paul’s vision in Romans 11 describes Gentiles obtaining mercy through Israel’s mercy (Rom. 11:31), implying a posture of dependency, not dominance. Christian readers must come to appreciate that the phrase “all Israel will be saved” means exactly what it says – and that this is a cause for hope and celebration, not theological gymnastics. When Revelation depicts the servants of God with the names of Israel’s tribes on their foreheads, and the New Jerusalem with 12 tribal gates, it is a pictorial affirmation that in eternity Israel’s identity is eternally honored, not erased. The Church can find its place in those images only by entering through those gates – that is, by joining itself to the commonwealth of Israel (Eph. 2:12).
2. The Nations’ Fullness is in Relationship to Israel: Rather than the “fullness of the Gentiles” signifying a separate glorious destiny for Gentiles apart from Israel, Torat Edom teaches that the nations find their fullness in connection with Israel’s restoration. The very phrase originates in the story of Ephraim’s integration into Jacob’s family. The Gentiles are not an independent actor but are woven into the tapestry of Israel’s story. This corrects both the dispensational tendency to put Gentiles and Jews on parallel tracks and the supersessionist tendency to absorb Israel into a Gentile mass. Instead, the image is concentric: Israel at the core, radiating blessing; the Gentiles gathered around, drawn in and illuminated, “full” because they are connected to the source of light. In practical terms, this means the Church should adopt an attitude of service and gratitude toward Israel – seeking to “pay its debt” (as Paul says in Rom. 15:27) for being a partaker of Israel’s spiritual things, rather than lording over Israel. The fullness of the Gentiles should be understood as the harvest of nations coming to worship the God of Israel (fulfilling prophecies like Psalm 117: “Praise the LORD, all you nations”), which in turn magnifies God’s mercy such that He brings the final redemption to Israel. It’s a virtuous cycle: Israel’s scripture and Messiah bring light to Gentiles, and Gentile praise of Israel’s God adorns and provokes Israel, culminating in mutual blessing – “for God has consigned all to disobedience, that He may have mercy on all” (Rom. 11:32).
3. Covenant Over Calendar: The Torat Edom lens shifts focus from obsessing over timelines and literal fulfillments to understanding the spiritual depth of covenant. Christian futurists often are fixated on when things will happen – e.g. “When will the rapture occur? When will the Antichrist come? How long is the tribulation?” – and on identifying political events (wars, alliances, etc.) with prophetic markers. While not entirely illegitimate, this can become a distraction from the more important question of how we are upholding our side of the covenant with God. Jewish tradition, while it has its own timeline discussions, generally discouraged date-setting for the Messiah’s arrival (Sanhedrin 97b pronounces a curse on those who calculate the end, because it can lead to despair or error). Instead, the emphasis is on repentance and mitzvot (commandments), since the Talmud says “If Israel repents, they will be redeemed immediately”. In other words, covenantal faithfulness is the trigger for redemption, more than any set date. Supersessionist churches often lost sight of covenant entirely, considering the Old Covenant “abolished” and reducing salvation to intellectual assent. Torat Edom calls the Church back to a covenantal worldview: God relates to humanity through covenants (Noahide, Abrahamic, Sinai, Davidic, New Covenant – and notably all these covenants involve Israel either as the recipient or mediator). The New Covenant in Messiah is not the abrogation of the Sinai covenant but its renewal and internalization (“I will put My Torah within them,” Jer. 31:33). Thus, Gentile Christians are invited into the New Covenant which is the extension of the covenant with Israel, not a nullification of it. This means Christian theology should honor the ongoing validity of God’s commandments and ethical demands, rather than suggesting that covenant is a thing of the past. It also means that end-times prophecies should be read in light of covenant fidelity: for example, passages about tribulation or judgment should prompt introspection about collective sin (just as Jewish commentators see calamities as consequences of Israel failing the covenant, per Leviticus 26 and Deuteronomy 28). A mature eschatology focuses on spiritual preparedness – cultivating faith, justice, and holiness – rather than speculative scenario-building.
4. Prophetic Mystery and Symbolism: In line with the above, Torat Edom encourages reading apocalyptic symbols (like the 144,000 or the multi-headed beasts of Revelation) in a way that appreciates their mystical and symbolic richness, rather than flattening them. Jewish apocalyptic literature (e.g., Zechariah, Daniel, Ezekiel’s visions) is full of symbols that were never meant to have one-to-one correspondences in a newspaper. Instead, they evoke patterns and theological truths. The 144,000, as we discussed, symbolically communicates the idea of the fullness and protection of Israel (the squared number 12×12, sealed by God) during divine judgment. The “great multitude” symbolizes the ingathering of the Gentiles. These are prophetic mysteries – razim in Hebrew – akin to dream imagery that must be pondered, not trivialized. When Christians either hyper-literalize them (thinking exactly 144,000 Jews will be saved, no more no less) or hyper-spiritualize them (stripping the Israel element away entirely), they miss the balanced approach that sees a symbolic message with real theological content: God will indeed save a remnant from every tribe of Israel, and that remnant is like a firstfruits (Rev. 14:4) pointing to a larger harvest (“all Israel”), while around them a multitude from the nations also find salvation. This parallels Jewish midrashic interpretation where a small number can represent or consecrate a larger reality (like how the first sheaf, omer, represents the whole crop). By restoring a sense of mystery, we step back from dogmatic assertions. It allows us to say, for instance: “We don’t know exactly how God will bring Ephraim’s seed back or in what manner the tribe of Dan (omitted in Rev. 7) will be dealt with, but we trust ‘the secret things belong to the Lord’ and He will be true to His word.” This attitude fosters humility and dialogue rather than harsh polemics. It also frees us to learn from both Jewish and Christian insights, rather than each side dismissing the other. For example, Christians might learn from Rashi and Saadia Gaon about the meaning of “fullness of nations” , while Jews (especially those interested in how the New Testament engages with Tenakh themes) might gain insight from Paul’s letters about God’s mercy strategy. Torat Edom in a way invites a conversation between Jewish tradition and the New Testament, rather than seeing them as enemies. It suggests that a Torah-faithful Jew like Paul can be interpreted consistently with Jewish thought if read properly, and that Revelation – a very “Jewish” apocalypse in many ways – can be understood in continuity with the prophets rather than in opposition to them.
5. Rejecting Literalism and Nationalism in Favor of Spiritual Fulfillment: A key phrase in the prompt is moving from “literalism and nationalism to spiritual covenant and prophetic mystery.” We have touched on mystery; now, regarding literalism and nationalism: Jewish tradition certainly cares about the concrete (land, peoplehood, Temple, etc.), but it also knows that mere fleshly markers mean nothing without spiritual substance. The prophets thundered against Israel when they had the land and temple but lacked righteousness. Likewise, having a political State of Israel today is historically significant, but from a religious perspective, it is not redemption in itself. True redemption is marked by peace, knowledge of God, and worldwide justice (Isaiah 11, Zephaniah 3, etc.). Therefore, while dispensationalists champion Jewish nationalism (supporting Israel’s statehood, etc.), Torat Edom would caution that equating the modern nation-state uncritically with the fulfillment of prophecy is a kind of category error. The State may be a vessel or a stage for prophetic fulfillment, but it’s not the kingdom of God. Conversely, supersessionists often went the opposite way, spiritualizing away even what God did literally promise – like the land of Israel. A balanced approach recognizes that God’s promises have both literal and spiritual dimensions. For instance, the land of Israel is not just a metaphor – it’s a real inheritance – but its importance is that it’s the stage for a holy society living with God’s Presence. If the holiness and presence are lacking, the land alone doesn’t fulfill the promise (as seen when Israelites were exiled despite living in the land, due to breaking covenant). Thus, the spiritual covenant is the core, and the physical manifestations (land, nationhood, temple) are means to that end. When Christian Zionists (influenced by dispensationalism) celebrate the rebuilding of a physical altar but pay scant attention to Torah ethics, they might be prioritizing nationalist literalism over covenantal spirituality.
Torat Edom’s corrective would be: support the return of Israel, yes, but more so support the return of Israel to God. The vision of prophecy is that Israel and the nations together will form a holy community, not just co-exist as political entities. In fact, the ultimate prophetic vision transcends narrow nationalism: it speaks of nations beating swords to plowshares (Isa. 2:4) and joining Israel in worship (Zech. 14:16). That’s international, not nationalistic. It is universal in scope but Israel-centered in structure – Israel is the priestly nation, the Gentiles are the congregation (cf. Isaiah 61:6, “you shall be named the priests of the LORD” speaking to Israel). Christian eschatology, when realigned by this vision, becomes less about “Which nation is Gog? Where is Mystery Babylon located?” and more about moral and spiritual readiness: Are we, Jews and Gentiles, living in such a way that God’s Presence would want to dwell among us? If not, then debates over timelines are pointless. If yes, God will fulfill His word in ways beyond what we could imagine.
In conclusion, the phrase “Torat Edom” can be seen as symbolizing the Torah’s voice speaking to (and against) Edom’s (Christianity’s) misconceptions. Like the prophets who addressed foreign nations in biblical oracles, the Torah-based perspective addresses the Church: it corrects, chastens, and invites. The result of heeding this voice would be a Christian theology that is deeply respectful of Jewish tradition and covenant, that sees itself as a wild branch on Israel’s tree rather than a separate planting. It would abandon any theology of contempt and fully renounce supersessionism. It would also moderate its literalist frenzy, recognizing symbolism and mystery as integral to God’s communication. Such a reoriented eschatology would be more in tune with the spirit of prophecy. It would speak not of conquest or replacement, but of reconciliation and fulfillment: *“Mercy to the nations, mercy to Israel – כלנו כאחד – all of us as one – under God’s kingdom.”
Conclusion
Manasseh, the 144,000, and the fullness of the Gentiles – we set out to unify these themes, and in doing so we discovered a coherent narrative that runs from Genesis to Revelation and into the rabbinic sages: God’s plan to redeem Israel and through Israel bring blessing to all nations. Christian eschatology in many forms tragically veered from this narrative, either by sidelining Israel except as a future token or by appropriating Israel’s identity prematurely. Reading these prophecies through the lens of Torah and Jewish tradition (“Torat Edom”) restores the balance. It reminds us that “Israel” is not merely an idea that can be reassigned; it is a people chosen forever. The 144,000 in Revelation dramatically testify that God knows each tribe by name and seals them – a vivid repudiation of the notion that Israel’s tribes could vanish into a generic church. Likewise, “the fullness of the Gentiles” in Paul’s teaching underscores that the Gentile story reaches its completion only in relation to Israel’s restoration, not apart from it.
In the end, a Torah-aligned critique of Christian eschatology calls for repentance – not only theological adjustment, but a change of heart. Paul’s admonition to Gentile believers not to boast over the natural branches (Rom. 11:18) remains piercingly relevant. Supersessionism was a form of boasting, and even dispensationalism carried an implicit boast in thinking Gentile Christians had mastered the timeline of Israel’s destiny. The antidote is a humble return to the sources: to primary scriptures in their Jewish context, and to the wealth of Jewish scholarship that has kept those scriptures for millennia. By engaging Rashi, Radak, Ramban, and others, Christians can glean a perspective on prophecy unclouded by later agendas. Jewish sages teach us about covenant fidelity, about the weight of every word of prophecy, and about hope in God’s promises even when they tarry. They also teach moderation in speculative matters and a focus on righteousness and repentance. All of this can only enrich Christian understanding.
For Jewish readers, this exploration affirms that the New Testament – often seen as a source of supersessionist ideas – can actually be read in a way that supports Jewish continuity when understood correctly. Paul’s mystery of Israel’s salvation and John’s vision of Israel’s tribes can be appreciated as flowing from the Hebrew Bible’s wellspring. There is, therefore, a potential for bridge-building: rather than New Testament prophecy being a wedge between Jews and Christians, a Torah-centric reading of it could foster mutual respect. Concepts like “fullness of Gentiles” and the 144,000 become points of dialogue: How do we each understand the role of Gentiles in God’s plan? How do we understand the unity of God’s people? These questions can lead to deeper study and perhaps a more unified expectation of the Messianic future.
Ultimately, the critique offered through Torat Edom is constructive: it seeks to move the discussion to higher ground, from the plane of polemics and politics to the plane of spiritual purpose. God’s plan for the end of days is not about any one group “winning” or proving themselves right, but about fulfilling the promises to the fathers in a way that brings redemptive love to the whole world. As Paul exclaims at the climax of Romans 11, “Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are His judgments and unfathomable His ways!” We conclude in the same awe. There is a holy mystery to how God will weave the fates of Israel and the nations – Manasseh and the 144,000 and the fullness of Gentiles all included – into a beautiful tapestry. By rejecting misinterpretations and embracing the Torah’s guidance, we position ourselves as humble participants in that mystery, awaiting the day when “the LORD will be King over all the earth” and “the knowledge of God will cover the earth as waters cover the sea”, with Israel restored at the center and every nation flowing gladly toward that light. Baruch HaShem – Blessed is God, who keeps His covenant and mercifully includes us all in its grand conclusion.
Sources:
Rashi on Genesis 48:19, citing Midrash: Ephraim’s seed will become renowned throughout the nations.
Rabbi Saadia Gaon and Radak on mĕlo-hagoyim: interpreting “fullness of the nations” as Ephraim’s offspring forming full-fledged, world-filling nations.
Revelation 7:4-8 – The 144,000 sealed from all the tribes of Israel (including Manasseh, excluding Dan).
Joel E. Anderson, Resurrecting Orthodoxy blog: Dispensationalist theology sees the 144,000 as literal Jews saved during a 7-year tribulation ; alternatively, some Christians interpret the 144,000 symbolically as the “True Israel” (the Church) composed of Jews and Gentiles.
GotQuestions Ministries: Dispensationalist view of “fullness of the Gentiles” as the full number of Gentiles to be saved before Israel’s restoration.
Amy-Jill Levine, JC Relations (2022): Definition of supersessionism as the claim that the Church replaces Israel in God’s purposes, inheriting Israel’s promises.
Ohr Somayach Ask the Rabbi: Discussion of Talmud Sanhedrin 110 on the return of the Ten Tribes – Rabbi Akiva says they won’t return, Rabbi Eliezer says they will, later sages reconcile that many will rejoin Israel.
Maimonides, Letter to Ovadiah the Proselyte: “No difference between you and us [Israel]… all miracles done to us were done for you as well” – affirming converts’ full inclusion in Israel’s identity.
Ezekiel 37:19–22: Prophecy of reunifying Ephraim (Joseph) and Judah into one nation under one king.
Jewels of Judaism (Messianic commentary): Acknowledges the 144,000 in Revelation are Jewish people from the tribes of Israel, not symbolic Gentiles , and contrasts them with the Gentile multitude , reinforcing the distinction yet partnership of Israel and the nations in Revelation 7.
Terrence L. Donaldson (cited by Levine 2016): Traditional supersessionism sees the Church as having permanently taken Israel’s place – a notion refuted by Paul’s insistence on Israel’s enduring election (Rom 11:28-29).
Romans 11:25-26,29 – Paul’s “mystery” of Israel’s partial hardening until Gentile fullness, followed by “all Israel will be saved,” and that God’s gifts and calling for Israel are irrevocable (as noted by early commentators like Origen, who did not see Paul as negating Israel’s covenant).
