Evidence of the Oral Torah: The Psalms




Don’t stop at verse1 !!!! Psalm 67:2 (“That Your way may be known on earth, Your salvation among all nations.”) is the heartbeat of the Aaronic Blessing, ensuring that the shining of God’s face is not merely for Israel’s benefit but for the revelation of His way to all people.

This verse is crucial because it shifts the focus from personal blessing to global purpose—Israel was blessed to be a light to the nations. The oral tradition of the Aaronic Blessing (Numbers 6:24–26) was likely the first scripture memorized by the Israelites, passed down before the written Torah was fully compiled.

This affirms an early oral Torah, where the spoken word of blessing shaped Israel’s identity and mission. From the beginning, God’s revelation was not an esoteric or nationalistic privilege but a call to proclaim His way to the ends of the earth. Let it be known: the blessing was never meant to be hoarded but heralded.

Psalm 87 texts follows with nations (Babylon, Cush, Tyre et al ) that were blessed and brought into the revlation at Mt. Sinai and the eventual Temple with its Courts for the Gentiles. It is the standard Christianity narrative that missions was geographical in the “Old Testament” and where nations were to come and believe.

Such a verse throws important light on Deen (religion as a standard) and its aim, it is necessary that we should study it to understand it well. Lexically, the word sharaa in sharaa lakum (ordained for you) means to make the way.

In the Book of Numbers (part of the Pentatuch or Torah) the Aaronic Blessing stands foundational. The translation of Bnei (children) is predicated to Israelites. Iterations as ‘blessing and keeping’ are found throughout scripture, however, in Psalm 67 the closest expression shows how the Oral Torah functioned and this is all that really matters! 




In Psalm 87 another subtle clue emerges as the chiastic or parallelism of the text and within the genre known as wisdom literature keeps its symmetry. So do not let it stand alone: for The Lord Loves the Gates of Zions! Yet in Priority!




Yet something deeper and more pervasive continues as the content of Scripture deals with the ‘what and how’ of the Gospel, not necessarily its ‘announcement’ as ‘good news.’ Thus, the end of ungodliness by discipleship.

Here the Hebrew for ‘Gates’ harkens back to an even more foundational matter; following the ways of the Lord or even the ‘Derekch Haaretz’ (way or law of the land) or perhaps the Noahide foundation for all peoples.

Something The Quran and even Augustine of Hippo identified before the Standard Islamic Narrative began and Christianity’s supersessionism or replacement theology.



Surah 42:13 in the Islamic Quran states: He has ordained for you ‘believers’ (Sabians) the Way (Sharia Gates) which He decreed for Noah, and what We have revealed to you  O Prophet˺ and what We decreed for Abraham, Moses, and Jesus, commanding: “Uphold the faith, and make no divisions in it.” 


As a term it implies appointing a way, a code and a rule. Accordingly, in Arabic the words tashri and shariat and shari are understood as the synonyms of legislation and law and law giver respectively. Therefore, let us understand ‘Gates’ as etymologically linked to the ‘what and how’ of the Gospel as ‘the end of ungodliness.’



Esau I Have Hated: The Reason for the Bible.


‘Hated’ in Romans 9:13  Esau’s bad choices



The identification of the Church as a “Spiritual Israel” — elect while Esau stands rejected — whether in Reformed Covenant Theology or the New Perspective on Paul (E.P. Sanders, James D.G. Dunn, N.T. Wright et al ), must be radically re-situated to avoid collapsing into supersessionism, that is, replacement theology.

This is a foundational issue, for both the Reformed tradition and the New Perspective on Paul are indeed onto something with their corrective impulse toward Fulfillment Theology—yet they display little sensitivity to authentic Jewish sources. Moreover, the conflation of modern political Zionism or “Israelism” with Judaism, as popularized through Scofield–Darby dispensationalism, should already serve as warning enough: nationalism and ethnocentrism are always incompatible with the believer’s higher calling to heavenly citizenship.

Granted, such futurism may seem plausible in light of current events. That is precisely why Christendom–Edom should compel us to reflect on Paul’s image of the Cultivated Olive Tree (Rom. 11:17–24). We are not to flaunt a new religion but to recognize and humbly accept our grafting into an existing covenantal reality—to become a missional people of peace and justice, rather than doctrinal warriors who interpret Romans 9–11 without the declarative action that Jesus Christ is Lord and without visibly displaying His character in the world.

The historical Esau–Edom rejection, often framed as “non-election” and extrapolated to entire ethnic or spiritual categories, is deeply flawed. It exposes the limits of theological systems that explain without understanding—the limits of reading the Bible through confining covenants rather than the Abrahamic household, the family through whom all nations are to be blessed. Any framework that divides humanity into castes of election fails to comprehend the breadth of Abraham’s promise.

If we speak of a “spiritual Israel” and seek to avoid supersessionism, then Christians themselves must be seen as the redemption of unspiritual Esau or Edom, and by extension even of so-called Messianic Jews. Nevertheless, we are all Hebrews—members of the Commonwealth of Israel (Eph. 2:12–13)—called into the same covenantal family by grace.

Why Was Esau Hated?
Both Malachi and Romans echo the tension of divine election and human choice. In Jewish tradition, Torah—literally instruction—depicts an unchanging reality of truth. Esau was not cursed by divine caprice but by his own choices: taking Canaanite wives, disregarding the birthright, and ultimately “living by the sword.” Yet, even in his story there is grace. Genesis 28:6–9 records that Esau sought reconciliation by marrying into Ishmael’s line—one of Ishmael’s daughters—thus rejoining Abraham’s family.

Rabbinic tradition further records that Esau’s head, severed by Chushim ben Dan, “rolled into the lap of Isaac” (Gen. Rab. 78:12). This midrash is profound: though Esau’s body—his earthly dominion—remained outside, his head, the seat of consciousness, was received into his father’s bosom. Edom means red, and in that color we glimpse redemption. For Jesus Christ—the Redeemer in crimson (Isa. 63:1–3)—fulfills Isaac’s blessing to Esau: “By your sword you shall live… and you shall serve your brother.” In Him, the grapes of wrath become the wine of salvation; the blood of judgment becomes the blood that saves.

Edom’s Prophets and the Forgotten Family
If we posit only a “spiritual Israel,” what do we make of Obadiah, Job, Eliphaz, or even Caleb—all identified by tradition as Edomites descended from “unspiritual Esau”? Their witness complicates any linear narrative of rejection. These figures—and the Jewish Midrashim that preserve their memory—reveal the gaps in our comprehension of Abraham’s entire covenant family and our tendency to idolize Jacob at Esau’s expense. Perhaps this is why the Charedim, those pacifist Jews who reject political coercion and political Zionism, embody a more faithful Jacob—one who waits upon God’s justice rather than wielding the sword like has been the history since 1948.

Paul’s Context in Romans 9–11
Paul’s discourse in Romans 9–11 must be read within this broader frame. “Jacob,” or its nationalized expression Israel, had become by Paul’s day a religio licita—a sanctioned religion within the Roman Empire—and had therefore absorbed imperial habits of exclusivity. Thus, Paul asks in Romans 10:19a, “Did Israel not understand?” Indeed, they did—but true understanding required Torah faithfulness, as modeled in Acts 15, where Esau–Edom symbolically represents the nations being welcomed in.

In Romans 10:19b, Paul cites Moses’ prophecy from Deuteronomy 32:21, reflecting on the ‘erav rav’—the mixed multitude that left Egypt. These included non-Israelites like Ephraim and Manasseh, faithful not by lineage but by obedience. “I will make you jealous by those who are not a nation; I will make you angry by a nation without understanding.” In Paul’s framing, Israel’s jealousy is provoked by outsiders—the very ones once considered “unspiritual,” whose devotion exposes Israel’s covenantal complacency.

This dynamic continues today. Simple believers in Christ—within both nationalistic Christianity and forms of Islam—often serve as unintended witnesses, provoking those bound to political or religious systems to reconsider God’s covenantal faithfulness. These are “replacement traditions” in structure, yet within them live individuals stirred by the Spirit toward the Messiah and toward mercy, even for Chiloni (secular) or Chardali (nationalist) Jews.

Torat Edom and the Red Judaism of Christ
Thus, Jesus Christ and the Christian Scriptures embody Torat Edom—a Red Judaism that opens the covenant to the nations. It is the way back for all lost sheep: the Romanized ethnic Jew of Paul’s day, the cultural-nationalist of our own, and the wandering Gentile. Acts 15 extrapolates Edom—and by extension Rome—to the nations. The revelation at Mount Sinai, where the mixed multitude (ha-gerim) was saved, already prefigured this missional grafting process that unfolds through the Hebrew Scriptures and culminates in the Maccabean and apostolic eras. These became the “Mishnaic” or binding books for all peoples within the Empire—and indeed, for the world.

Just as then, so now, the Gospel—the Good News—announces the end of ungodliness and the arrival of spiritual globalism centered not on race or land but on Jesus of Nazareth, our Savior. This is the true purpose of Scripture: the redemption of humanity, not the enthronement of nations.

The Peril of Political Zionism
Yet Israel desired a king (1 Sam. 8) and thus joined the Gentile pattern of political power. That choice left the covenant community vulnerable to nationalism—today embodied in political Zionism and the nation-state ideology claiming the “Holy Land.” This error, though geographically specific, echoes in other nations, including the United States, where faith is too easily wedded to flag.

Both Reformed covenantal and dispensational frameworks—though seemingly opposed—cannot deliver us from this double bind. As long as Esau remains excluded from their theological imagination, the Abrahamic covenant remains truncated. We must not allow the coercive bilateralism of the Mosaic covenant to dictate the grander narrative. The promise that “in you all nations will be blessed” transcends Sinai; it began in Abraham’s household—with both Jacob and Esau—and must be read through the lens of Torat Edom.

The Lord’s promises to Abraham are not bounded by geography or political allegiance. They are spiritual, irrevocable, and oriented toward the Heavenly Jerusalem. Justice in the Holy Land will not come through national alignments but through faithful witnesses—believers supported by the global ekklesia—who understand that Edom’s restoration is itself the Great Commission, including the redemption of today’s “ethnic” and “cultural” Jews.

You may ask: Isn’t this an overly spiritual reading?

But I would answer: Don’t we all long to be called spiritual children of God by His grace?

Read 1 John: God is love, and that love is revealed fully in Jesus of Nazareth—the greatest demonstration of covenant mercy the world has ever known


Further Further Study 
👉 Romans Chapter 2 Jew YouTube Playlist
👉 Matt. 16 Word Study What is the Church?

[1] Torat Edom refers to a theological reading of the Abrahamic covenant that includes the destiny of Esau and his descendants—Edom—not as eternally rejected, but as part of the broader redemptive promise. While traditional readings emphasize Edom’s judgment (see Obadiah; Malachi 1:2–4), Torat Edom highlights that Esau was also a son of Isaac and grandson of Abraham, and that God’s promise to bless “all nations” (Genesis 12:3) must eventually reconcile the line of Edom as part of the covenantal plan. Paul’s midrashic treatment of Esau and Jacob in Romans 9 calls attention to God’s sovereign purposes, but also sets up the later mystery of mercy extended to all (Romans 11:32). Rather than allowing the bilateral and conditional Mosaic covenant to dominate the narrative, Torat Edom recovers a deeper view rooted in the patriarchal promises and their eschatological fulfillment in the heavenly Jerusalem (cf. Hebrews 12:22–24; Galatians 4:26). This reading challenges both supersessionism and political Zionism by calling the global Church to participate in a justice that transcends national borders and invites even Edom into the hope of redemption.

Suggested references:
Genesis 25:23; 27:39–40; 33:4–16
Obadiah 1; Malachi 1:2–4
Romans 9:10–13; 11:25–32
Hebrews 12:16–17, 22–24
Galatians 4:21–31

Thou Shalt Not Covet

 

The Nascent Sanhedrin lawyer Rabbi Yeshayahu Hollander with Pope in 2014. 
Yet he represented the Vatican in their case 
to claim the property of the Upper Room. 


Rav Yeshayahu Hollander, as a legal mind and English-language spokesman for the nascent Sanhedrin, brings a sharp, pragmatic edge to the Upper Room dispute and broader Jewish-Christian tensions. With his background in theoretical physics and patent law, plus decades of Talmudic scholarship, he blends rigorous logic with halachic conviction. In his view, the Upper Room—revered by Christians as the Last Supper site and by Jews as King David’s Tomb vicinity—belongs under Jewish sovereignty, no compromise.

Yet, he’s not blind to diplomacy: in 2014, he acknowledged the Church’s spiritual tie to the site while bluntly rejecting Pope Francis’s push for control during his Jerusalem visit, a stance rooted in the Sanhedrin’s mission to reassert Jewish authority over sacred spaces. His angle is less about theology than jurisdiction: the Sanhedrin’s lawyer saying, “This is ours, but we get why you care—still, hands off.”


The Second Vatican Council was initiated by Giovanni XXIII (‘the good pope’) who aided Jews during the Holocaust, he also presented Decretum de Iudaeis before the Council. He passed away before Vat II was finished and Paulo VI presented the council’s defining document called Lumen Gentium (Light to Nations), this quickly followed with Nostra Aetate in dealing with the major religions, especially Judaism.

The apologies toward other religions began, and emphasized from John Paul II to Francis. Still Rome’s motives are unclear while gestures toward the other religions shifted. Its view of itself as ‘the mother church’ continued by it patent absorbing and with a new language and compassion, all with the Virgin Mary at the center which implies its own centrality and here Rome has doubled down on its Marian devotion beyond the Theotokos. Thus, Judaism as the ‘cultivated olive tree’ and the centrality of Jesus Christ points to a revelatory religion system based not on relativism but on Scripture.
 

The Vatican ‘Scudo’ and the 10 Sefirot tree (look familiar?)
 Da’at has been shattered; The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil 
absorbed without true knowedge and blatent supersessionism. 

“Those who speak don’t know. 
Those who know don’t speak” 
(the Oracle Keepers)


Oracles of God


Blessed are the Peacemakers (Meshulam, Noahides) 


How should one understand the long history of spoken tradition behind the Oral Torah (Mishnah, Talmuds, et al.)? With so much emphasis on Hebrew texts and related languages—Aramaic, Koine (Judeo-Greek), Proto-Arabic (Judeo-Arabic), and others—should the textual paper trail serve as secondary and confirmatory rather than primary?


I believe so. The most revelatory text in this regard is the Septuagint (LXX), produced by Jewish scribes in the 3rd–2nd century BCE. It not only preserves elements of the Oral Torah but was given alongside the Written Torah. Its influence is evident throughout the New Testament, as seen in Jesus’ reading from Isaiah 61 in Luke 4:16. Despite speculative interpretations, the language of the passage tracks with the LXX.


Bart Ehrman, despite his skepticism, concludes that while New Testament texts contain many variations, they do not fundamentally change the meaning. However, his presupposition that Jesus was founding a new religion is flawed. The real issue arose later, as early Christians—both proselytes and “lost sheep” Jews—integrated into new communities. After Constantine outlawed the Bema seat synagogue in 333 CE, the authority of the Pharisees and Eastern synagogues was rejected in favor of a new, Romanized Christianity.


The dispersion of the late 1st century meant that Jewish communities maintained strong interactions with the East. Yet, those who upheld the ancient traditions were later slandered, marginalized, and persecuted by the victors of this newly formed religion. This fragmentation is well-documented by historical scholars, but what do Jewish sources say?


Jesus himself affirms the authority of the Pharisees in Matthew 23: “Obey them, for they sit in the (Bema) seat of Moses. Do as they say, but not as they do.” Paul echoes this sentiment in Acts 15. However, Jesus also rejected the extremism of groups like the Zealots, affirming Caesar’s authority and urging discernment in choosing one’s allegiance.


Paul’s warning in Titus against “fables and the traditions of men” is often misunderstood. He never directly quotes the Enochian corpus, though some of its ideas were known. Ultimately, these texts should be seen as speculative and fantastical—much like a Frank Peretti novel or modern prophetic fiction, akin to C.S. Lewis and Tolkien.


The real deviation from authentic Jewish tradition came with the rise of sectarian groups like the Shammai Pharisees and Sadducees, whose political alignments overshadowed spiritual truth. The same is true today with forms of Judaism that reject the role of Jesus of Nazareth.


For Hebrews from the nations, the purpose of the Oral Torah is to graft into believing Israel—the cultivated olive tree. This faithful remnant has existed even before Abraham, with the Anshei HaShem (Men of the Name). Engaging with Constantinian Christianity, German higher criticism, or modernity is futile if one does not seek out the ancient faith.


Let us not build on the shifting sands of fragmented Christianities that fail to grasp the singular revelation and mission of our Lord. He has visited His people many times and does not change with dispensations. Nor should we marginalize the Pharisaic tradition of Gamaliel, whom Paul followed.


Evangelical Zionist dispensationalism, while professing love for the State of Israel, often misrepresents the faith, while Reformed covenantalism claims the Church is the true Israel. Yet both, in their extremes, assume the right to define Jewish identity for the very people entrusted with the oracles of God. Instead, we must join together to be the righteous ones in this world by properly understanding our authoritative textual history—passed down through the system of oral teaching, with the written text serving as a secondary yet indispensable witness.


For Messianic Hebrews, however, the text is anything but secondary. Inerrancy is not merely textual perfection—it reveals a mathematical miracle, a divine order preserved through ancient orality. This understanding aligns with the long, legitimate tradition of Kabbalah, which, far from being an ethnic exaltation, carries a trail of blood—a witness to the cost of preserving divine truth.



Symmetry: Judaism and Christian Faith Not Christianity






Elijah Zvi Soloveitchik (also known as Elias Soloweyczyk) was likely born in Slutzk, Russia, in 1805 and died in London in 1881. He was the grandson of Hayyim ben Isaac of Volozhin (1749–1821), the founder of the Volozhin Yeshiva in the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. An early member of the Soloveitchik rabbinic dynasty, his lineage extends to the present, with a descendant currently serving as the president of Yale University.

Educated at the Volozhin Yeshiva, the most prestigious Jewish institute of higher learning in the nineteenth century, Soloveitchik was deeply immersed in classical Judaism. Comparisons between him and Jacob Emden (1697–1776) are reasonable, as both acknowledged the morality of Christianity and rejected the notion that Jesus came to abolish the law for Jews. However, the resemblance is superficial. Unlike Soloveitchik, Emden, though well-versed in the Gospels (which he frequently cited), never wrote extensively about them, nor did he go as far as Soloveitchik in arguing that Judaism and Jesus’ faith—better termed the Christian faith—were fundamentally indistinguishable.

Soloveitchik’s writings reveal a passionate, candid, and sincere thinker grappling with what he believed was a millennia-old misunderstanding between Judaism and Christianity. His work provides a rare glimpse into the mind of an Eastern European Jew confronting modernity, challenging long-standing Jewish assumptions about the supposed irreconcilability of the two faiths. He grants Christianity its historical and theological legitimacy, offering a perspective on Jesus of Nazareth untainted by the accretions of folk distortions and the controversies embedded in Talmudic polemics.
However, where Soloveitchik takes a Maimonidean turn, I must diverge. His attempt to reconcile Maimonides (Rambam) with the Litvak Perushim was met with criticism, particularly from within Lithuanian Jewry, though some Hasidic groups—most notably Chabad—embraced aspects of this approach. Menachem Mendel Schneerson, the Lubavitcher Rebbe, encouraged such studies within the remnants of Yiddish Judaism, seeking to revive a rigorous intellectual engagement with Maimonides’ thought.

Yet, Maimonides’ rationalist framework stands in stark contrast to the deeply mystical tradition of Kabbalah, which he explicitly rejected. His Guide for the Perplexed aligns more closely with classical theism, mirroring the Aristotelian logic later systematized in Thomas Aquinas’ Summa Theologica for the Catholic Church. Just as Aquinas sought to create a symmetrical system based on Aristotle, Maimonides did the same within Judaism—an effort that, while intellectually formidable, ultimately distances itself from the organic, revelatory nature of biblical and rabbinic tradition. His metaphysical approach, akin to the analogia entis developed through Meister Eckhart, finds resonance in Western Scholasticism but remains incompatible with the inner workings of post-Second Temple Judaism.

This is where Soloveitchik, despite his rationalist leanings, inadvertently brings us back to a crucial safe haven: the New Testament text itself. While his commentary may at times feel earthy and unfamiliar, it opens a door to honest engagement with the words and mission of Jesus of Nazareth, free from centuries of polemical baggage.

The history of the twentieth century was not kind to Soloveitchik’s predictions. As a result, he and his work faded into obscurity—until now. His writings deserve renewed examination, not necessarily as a blueprint for merging Judaism and Christianity, but as a bold attempt to bend history toward coexistence and mutual understanding. He sought to dismantle the animosity and lingering hatred that have long divided the two faiths, yet ultimately, true reconciliation can only be found in the one name under which salvation is given: Jesus the Christ.





Noahide Conspiracy?

The Ben-Nuns, the Noahide Laws, and the Problem of Misrepresentation


The Noahide Laws are nothing to fear but to follow, as His disciples (Talmidim). Jesus Christ is the fulfillment of Judaism, providing both the desire and the power to follow the moral principles revealed through general revelation—principles ultimately framed by the absolute authority of the New Testament. This framing places the gospel on Mount Sinai rather than on Mount Zion, grounding it in the continuity of divine law rather than in eschatological or political speculation.


However, futurist sensationalism has clouded this understanding. The Ben-Nuns, Steve and Jana, claim that Noahide Laws are an ecumenical scheme leading to the Antichrist and the mechanism behind the decapitations described in the Apocalypse. Their view, heavily influenced by pre-tribulational dispensationalist presuppositions, misrepresents both Jewish tradition and historical reality. Instead of seeing Noahide principles as a moral foundation for Gentiles within God’s covenantal economy, they descend into a caricature where the Talmud becomes a fundamentalist tool for Jewish domination, portraying Christianity as standing under the impending judgment of what they call “Sharia, Jihadist Judaism.”


This perspective not only mischaracterizes Judaism but also exposes a deeper issue: the enduring hegemony of Zoharist-Maimonidean thought within contemporary Judaism—two elements that have fueled both ignorant rejection and nationalist distortion. Yet even among those who engage with these issues, such as Michael Brown and the Ben-Nuns, we see that a shared adversary often defines their disagreements. While the Ben-Nuns are explicitly anti-Zionist, Brown walks a finer line, maintaining his theological Zionism but distancing himself from extreme nationalist interpretations.


Dr. Michael Brown’s critique of the Ben-Nuns is particularly incisive. He rightfully questions their “authoritative” sources and exposes the disingenuous apologetics of figures like Tovia Singer and Political Zionist Rabbi Yitzhak Ginsburg—both of whom reinforce negative stereotypes of deception in Judaism. Chabad, as a prominent force within Messianic and Jewish missionary discourse, naturally becomes a focal point for critique, but the reality is that their views remain a minority within broader Jewish tradition. Unfortunately, both Brown and the Ben-Nuns miss the larger point: Jesus explicitly instructed his followers to obey the Pharisees, recognizing their authority in interpreting the Torah (Matthew 23:2-3), an instruction Paul also upheld in his own ministry.


The problem lies in the weaponization of the Talmud through selective proof-texting. Instead of understanding it as a vast repository of debate, commentary, and instruction—where multiple opinions serve as a means of learning—these critics extract negative pronouncements to support preconceived narratives. The Jewish axiom “two Jews, three opinions” reflects this reality, yet the Ben-Nuns are entrenched in a rigid framework that refuses to engage history honestly. Their approach does not seek to reconcile but to divide.


Furthermore, their refusal to acknowledge the qehal and edah structure—a two-tiered system that parallels “Jew & Greek, male & female” (Galatians 3:28)—prevents them from recognizing the unity of revelation. Instead of embracing the cultivated olive tree (Romans 11), they remain fixated on distorted political aspirations, whether driven by anti-Zionism or misdirected Messianic hopes. Christianity’s historical stain of hostility toward Judaism should make us more cautious, not less, in engaging with these issues.


Denying Hashem’s Name: A True Antisemitism

At its core, denying the Name of Hashem is actual antisemitism, for it rejects the divine revelation given to Israel. Loving all people, including Muslims and Arab Christians who also call upon Allah, reflects a proper theological understanding—yet Jana Ben-Nun’s rejection of this name signals an ethnically-driven replacement theology. Such are political Zionist orientations which the Ben-Nuns are fighting against, or anti-Zionist counterparts, obscure vital spiritual realities in favor of identity politics. I really do not understand them in this regard.


The Noahide Laws are not a modern invention but a term for an ancient concept—one recognized not only in rabbinic tradition but also by thinkers like Augustine and in Sura 42 of The Quran. Their purpose is not to impose Jewish domination but to function as a universal moral standard entrusted to those who bear God’s oracles (Romans 3:2). Sadly, the dominance of Zoharist-Maimonidean Judaism continues to cloud this understanding, and researchers like the Ben-Nuns still have much to rediscover.


Final Thoughts

The Ben-Nuns’ polemics are not merely misguided but actively harmful, reinforcing divisive narratives rather than fostering true dialogue. While they position themselves as exposing hidden dangers, their arguments lack historical grounding and fail to appreciate the deeper theological and ethical framework of Judaism. Rather than engaging in reactionary fear-mongering, we must return to the faith’s ancient foundations, recognizing that true discipleship means embracing the wisdom of those entrusted with the oracles of God—without succumbing to either nationalist distortions or apocalyptic paranoia.




Missions to Jews

This is a clip from a recent dialog from Moshe Rosen’s “Jews for Jesus”, a group I supported over 40 years ago. Most ‘Jews for Jesus’ consider themselves Messianic ‘Jews’ or better former cultural ethnically lost sheep where Jesus was distorted or unknown.


Those who are sharing their faith in Jesus cast a wide net and are hopefully such good listeners as demonstrated here, but they must really stop calling themselves Jews in a religious sense. Granted, one must understand their lineage as ethnicity with the rejection and the trauma Christianity has caused on a collective cultural level that the individual ethnic cultural Jew rejects. 


Nevertheless, observant Jews also miss Yeshua Sar Haphanim found in their prayer books and would not equate Him with Jesus of Nazareth, but some do and yes “Those who speak don’t know. Those who know don’t speak” There is so much more to learn from each other as these recent dialogs with Orthodox Jews demostrate.  “In the beginning was the Name, HaShem, ὁ Λόγος.


👉 Orthodox Jews react to Messianics





👉  Framing The Gospel 



So how must one understand the current nation state of Israel? First, it is not a Jewish State, at least in a religious sense, yet by gene pool, or the framed cultural ethnic reality. Second, it is clear that Zechariah 9:6 may be the only verse that justifies 1948-1967. “A mamzer shall live in Ashdod (the coast lands).” The current borders are an occupation of a gene pool of people that have every right to the land and have perhaps a closer (as some genetic analysis show) tie to the Land.






Just more ‘theologies’ but Hopefully Aiding Some Old Time Religion Revival!



The Protestant Reformation ruptured a Sacramental Tapestry. Martin Luther raged (its time to resist HaSatan) against the Aristotelian hegemony of theology, but what comes around goes around. 

Rome’s Teologia Gloriae transfered to the Teologia Crucis

But Romanism struck back with the counter REFORMATION and the Baroque period, and it made for nice tourism in the Eternal City, where I served for 7 years. Being an eternal student as a pastor, not in exile, just having a great time with all my Roman Catholic friends; Priests and Nuns (who I could witness to all the time) and my congregation (who were baffeld) and some others while I studied at two Pontifical Universites, one of them turned me on to next classic… 

Thank You Don Bosco Social Communication Friends…

Federico Fellini’s Creepy Extravagant Roman Cat Walk


John Calvin contributed and perhaps tried to salvage Luther’s Theology of Glory as He starts off his Institutes after his preface to the King of France — the newer Calvinist ‘theo bros’ in the USA don’t seem to understand that old Calvinism is ultimately political and the reason Scotland, Holland, South Africa et al as Christian Nations do not exist anymore. 

Thus a legitimate concern for the doctrines of grace neglect, as his posit of our own self knowledge ‘being’ equal to our knowledge of God is a valid Epistemology:  big WORD for HOW DO we KNOW? 

Nevertheless, who am I argue with the TULIP where the ‘L’ was put into logic by John Owen.  Does such a formulation help me evangelize? That is the question, and only one that each of us can answer for ourselves.

At least it was a woman, Marilynne Robinson, whom I believe holistically interpreted as she calls him, Jean Cauvin,  the French Lawyer and in a more ample direction.  So in the theologically divided North American context and other places (in a sense) when one says ‘Calvin’,  its becomes a fighting word for debate. Why is that?