Torat Edom vs. Torahism: Why Yeshua Doesn’t Take Us Back to Sinai

 


The growing movement often called “Torahism”—including expressions such as Nazarene Israel, Hebrew Roots, and other Torah-observant offshoots—reflects a genuine hunger for biblical coherence and Hebraic depth. But in their zeal to recover the “original faith,” such movements often distort the very covenantal structure they claim to retrieve.


Most crucially, they misunderstand the role of Torah in light of Yeshua, and they completely bypass the prophetic framework of Torat Edom—a biblical lens essential for rightly discerning the unfolding of God’s purposes through Israel, the nations, and the Messiah.

The Return to Sinai Is a Misreading of the Story
At the heart of Torahism is a deep desire to be “biblical”—to obey the commandments, to speak the original names, and to step back into the world of the patriarchs. But Torahism makes a critical narrative mistake: it tries to re-enter the covenant at Sinai, when the covenant has already moved forward through Edom, David, and exile.

Yeshua does not return us to the foot of Sinai. He fulfills the covenant through suffering and resurrection, not repetition. Sinai was a holy mountain, but it is not the final destination. The transfiguration takes place not on Sinai, but on a “high mountain” where Moses and Elijah appear—witnesses of the Law and the Prophets, giving way to the Son who is pleasing to the Father (Matt. 17:1–5). Torahism misses this transition. It is stuck on the mountain, while the Son is already heading toward Jerusalem, toward judgment, and toward resurrection.

The Error of Torah as Law, Rather Than as Witness
Torat Edom reframes the Torah not as a legal structure, but as a witness (edah) to God’s covenantal faithfulness and unfolding purposes. Torah was never meant to be an isolated code of conduct. It is a living testimony to a people formed through promise, exile, return, failure, and hope.

Torahism, however, treats the Torah as a fixed legal document that all people—Jew and Gentile—must return to literally and uniformly. This flattening of covenantal distinctions erases the drama of history. Worse, it misunderstands Paul’s central point: the Torah was a guardian until the Messiah came (Gal. 3:24). To reinstate Torah as the final word is to deny the fulfillment that the Torah itself anticipates.

Esau and Edom: The Forgotten Key
The narrative of Edom—Esau’s descendants—runs like a shadow behind Israel’s history. In most Christian and Messianic readings, Edom is either ignored or collapsed into “Rome.” But Torat Edom insists on reading Edom as a figure of distortion and redemption. Edom is not simply the enemy; he is the elder brother who was bypassed but not forgotten. In fact, Scripture anticipates that Edom too will be included—by judgment and mercy (Obadiah 1:21; Amos 9:12).

Yeshua comes “in the likeness of sinful flesh” (Rom. 8:3)—in many ways, like Esau, the one wrongly perceived, falsely accused, and tragically misunderstood. In this light, Edom becomes the prophetic mirror of Western theological distortion: the kind that grasps for inheritance without covenant, that manipulates sacred things without understanding mercy. But it is through this distortion that the Messiah enters, not to reinforce Sinai, but to fulfill the covenant and invite even Edom into redemption.

Sacred Names and the New Legalism
One of the most obvious symptoms of Torahism is the obsession with using “sacred names”—Yahweh instead of “God,” Yeshua instead of “Jesus,” and so forth. While these names have historical value, their enforced use quickly becomes a ritualistic form of exclusion. Ironically, Torahism repeats the very error of the post-Second Temple Pharisees: it uses names and pronunciations to define holiness rather than to point to the Holy One Himself.

Torat Edom reminds us that the name of God is not a syllable—it is His presence, His mercy, and His revelation. The Name is known when we receive the suffering servant and walk in His ways—not when we vocalize a particular Hebrew form. The early followers of Yeshua—Jew and Gentile alike—confessed Him as Lord not by phonetics, but by allegiance, obedience, and love.

The Gentiles Are Grafted In Through David, Not Sinai
Acts 15 settles the matter with clarity: Gentiles are not called to take on the full weight of Torah observance. They are called to turn from idols, to live lives of purity, and to enter the story of Israel through the Son of David, not through Moses. The Torah, rightly understood, prepared Israel to give birth to the Anointed King who would rule the nations—not by law enforcement, but by crucified love and resurrection power.
Torahism reopens a door that Acts 15 gently but firmly closed. It seeks to remake the Church in the image of Moses, when the apostles themselves bore witness to a new covenant—a covenant established not at Sinai, but in Bethlehem, Golgotha, and Zion above.

A Better Way: Torat Edom and the Redeemed Elder Brother
Torat Edom offers a richer vision. It sees that Yeshua does not abandon Torah—but He transfigures it. He completes it not by repealing it, but by suffering it—by entering into the pain of a broken covenant and creating a new way for all peoples.

Edom, the forgotten brother, becomes the symbol of all who were once outside, all who were misaligned with the covenant, yet are now called near. 

Torahism says: “Return to Sinai, speak the right words, keep the right days.” 

But the 

Gospel says: “Follow Me, for I have gone ahead of you—even into Edom.”


Further Resources:
Obadiah 1:15–21 and Amos 9:11–12 on the restoration of Edom
Romans 9–11 for Paul’s framing of Israel, Esau, and inclusion
Acts 15 as the watershed moment on covenantal inclusion
The prophetic significance of David over Moses in the Messianic Age