Parashat Hukkat, Numbers 20

This drash first appeared last year, but it seems appropriate to post it again, as we are dedicating our recent Shavuot offering to the Kehilah 2020 initiative, "Focusing on Future Leadership."

Who will be the leaders of the Messianic Jewish future—not just the professional leaders and rabbis, but also the member-leaders within every congregation, who are equally essential to the vision of a Jewish people movement for Yeshua?

In the UMJC we’re seeking to answer this question through our Kehilah 2020 initiative, or K20. K20’s tagline is “Focusing on future leadership,” which we do by identifying, encouraging, and helping equip potential leaders, and matching them with congregations that are ready for their service. K20 is raising money for internships, scholarships, and special events, which will help attract younger people and empower them to serve the Messianic Jewish community as it moves ahead.

We’ve been thinking about this generational transition for several years in the UMJC and throughout the Messianic Jewish community, and it keeps rising higher on the priority list. You can see the same priority in the big narratives of Scripture. Our biblical forebears are constantly thinking about passing on their legacy and the responsibilities and blessings that go with it. They’re all concerned with the transition to future leadership.

Parashat Hukkat portrays three such transitions that shed light on the road ahead of us.

As we enter Parashat B'Ha'alot'cha, in the very first verses we see Aaron the High Priest, who is arranging seven lamps (hence the name of this portion: B'Ha'alot'cha – when you light the lamps). "Aharon did this: he lit its lamps so as to give light in front of the menorah, as ADONAI had ordered Moshe" (Num. 8:3). A High Priest with seven lamps? It's almost impossible not to think of "The One ... who walks among the seven gold menorahs" in the second chapter of the book of Revelation (Rev. 2:1). Yes, there is an obvious upgrade, from seven lamps – one menorah – in Numbers, to seven lampstands – seven menorahs – in Revelation; but after all, Yeshua is also an upgrade of the High Priest, isn't He? For me, there is no doubt that this first scene from B'Ha'alot'cha is a type and symbol of the scene in the book of Revelation; therefore, the message we find in Revelation might be a key to our scene from Numbers as well. This is our blessing as Messianic believers: since we do know the sequel and the end of the book, so many episodes in the Tanach which remain vague and unclear for our brothers who don't know Yeshua, are perfectly readable and clear for us.

So let us have a close look at the message of Yeshua in Revelation, 2 – this amazing chapter where He is calling Himself, "the One walking in the midst of seven lampstands." After many good words He is saying to the believers in Ephesus, only one reproach is found here: "I have this against you, that you have left your first love." Here is the key to our portion: the one walking in the midst of the lampstands has to remind his people about their first love. Do we find this theme in this week's Torah portion?

It definitely doesn't seem so at the first glance. We find here stories about grumbling and rebellion of the people (again!); we find a description of their preparation for the journey; we find a report on how they set off again – but there is nothing about first love here. Or, is there?

by Rabbi Russ Resnik
Parashat Emor, Leviticus 21:1–24:23

The book of Leviticus opened with the Lord’s call to Moses out of ohel mo‘ed, the tent of meeting, which had been the focal point of the final chapters of Exodus, and remains the focal point through most of Leviticus. In Leviticus 23, however, the focus shifts to mo‘adim, the plural form of mo‘ed, which refers to the appointed festivals of the Lord. The story turns from the tent of meeting, to the times of meeting. Israel encounters the divine not only in the tent of meeting or tabernacle, but also in the seasons of the year.

As the tabernacle—ohel mo‘ed —is a symbol of restoration, the renewed creation, in the midst of the camp, so the festivals—the mo‘adim—are moments of restoration in the midst of the ordinary days of the year.

by Jonathan Roush

“Remember”

I recently read that Jews are not simply commanded to believe in the Torah, but that commitment to faith in the Torah also requires the act of remembering. Whether it is remembering the Shabbat, or remembering to blow the shofar at the appointed times, the call is to “Remember.” Of course it's not simply an action of our brains recalling events. Tied to these remembrances are actions.

Today I woke up and got out of bed. I walked to the kitchen and found myself starting at matzah. Dry matzah. Even looking at it makes my mouth yearn for water. “Oh yeah, I remember. No bread.” I am sure that this experience is familiar to many of us. Yes, this is part of how we remember God's rescue of the Israelites from Egypt. This is how Jews are commanded to memorialize the journey that the Israelites undertook in haste one day long ago. Jews all over the world are re-enacting and identifying through personal experience God's wonderful deliverance from slavery into freedom saying, “I do this ‘because of what Adonai did for me when I went free from Egypt’” (Exodus 13:8). Remembering is at the heart of who God has created us to be and what he has called us to do.

by Howard Silverman, UMJC President

One of names that describes Passover in the Hagaddah is z’man cheruteinu, the “season of our freedom.” We gather around the Seder table remembering how God brought our ancestors out of Egyptian slavery to freedom in the wilderness. This miraculous event became the definition of the relationship between God and the Jewish people. He is our deliverer. He is our redeemer. Throughout the Tanach, God is identified as one who rescues or “saves” people from calamity.

By the time we come to the New Covenant, the hope is that the Messiah will be the one to bring deliverance from our enemies. This is clear from the praise of Zechariah that we read about in the Gospel of Luke. In his praise for the coming of the Messiah, Zechariah quotes a passage from Psalm 106, which describes how God rescued our people out of Egypt: As He spoke by the mouth of His holy prophets from of old—Salvation FROM OUR ENEMIES, And FROM THE HAND OF ALL WHO HATE US (Luke 1:70-71). Zechariah relates words about the Exodus to the work of the Messiah. How are we to understand these words? Israel is still threatened by enemies. We as individuals still face all kinds of tzuris in life. What does it mean that Israel has been delivered? What does it mean that we have been rescued from bondage? What does it mean to be free? Israel still has bitter enemies and none of us lives a carefree life that is free from trouble.

By Rabbi Barney Kasdan, Kehilat Ariel, San Diego

As we enter one of the great seasons of our faith, our focus turns back to the beginning.  While most think of Rosh Hashanah as the “new year”, it is actually the current month of Nisan which is called the beginning of months in the Torah (Shmot/Exodus 12:2).  In our original calendar this has an obvious logic.  First, it is spring time, which is a time of new life.  But it is evidently more that just new plant life.  The Torah lists Pesach/Passover as the first major holiday in the cycle of our tradition (Vayikra/Leviticus 23:5).  As one studies the yearly holy days of Judaism it becomes clear that Passover is the natural place to start.  All of the Torah festivals contain not just references to our past history, but also to our future destiny.  Therefore, Passover is a reminder of the great acts of God in the past as well as a prophetic picture of his plans for our future.  As God redeemed our people out of slavery in Egypt, so too there is a greater picture of the spiritual redemption to come in the messianic age.

by Aaron Kasdan
Sha’arei Shalom, Cary, NC

Parashat Vayikra, Leviticus 1:1–5:26

Vayikra, the deathbed of so many well-intentioned attempts to read through the entirety of the Tanakh, begins with this weeks' parasha. Animals; grains; categories; burned; cut; mixed; cooked; not the leaven; don't forget the salt; lobes; kidneys; entrails; inside the camp; outside the camp; on the altar; in an ash heap; and just how much blood is in a “sprinkle”? It's no wonder why contemporary readers find this book so perplexing: where do the concepts of animal sacrifice and ritual purity fit into our 21st century sensibilities? I'm certain this information was valuable then, but what is its import now?

In this commentary, I will not delve into the direct meanings of these individual offerings, or the continuities and augmentations of our avodah to the Lord through the work and lens of Yeshua's sacrifice. Instead, I will focus on the foundation beneath what the Lord “called” to Moses, the assumptions that we often take for granted when considering such texts. While our mode of worship may differ greatly from the practice of ancient Israel, there are certain continuous truths about the direction and directives of our worship.