If you are reading this, you are probably familiar with the name of the Jewish new year, Rosh Hashanah, literally “the head of the year..”
Yet, Rosh Hashanah is also called by four other names:
Yom HaZikaron, the Day of Remembering.
Yom HaDin, the Day of Judgment.
Yom Harat Olam, The Day the World was Conceived, in God’s plan.
Yom Tru’ah, the Day of the Broken Sound, the name of the holiday in Leviticus 23.
Each name is ripe with meaning, and leads one into deep reflection. As we approach the High Holiday season, consider the above names, but as questions:
What am I remembering? What am I thinking on, dwelling on, or bringing into living? Is it reflective of the new man in Messiah, or a lingering presence of the old? Also, what or who am I forgetting, and in need of remembering?
Who is the judge? Do I set myself in His position, or am I allowing His grace to penetrate the hard shell that the human heart is prone to develop?
What has God conceived me to be in Messiah? What has He purposed for me to do while on this earth?
Why is my sound broken, when He has made me whole in Messiah? What are you called to by the shofar (trumpet)?
Rosh Hashanah awakens the heart to a season of new beginnings, renewal, and anticipation for the coming of Messiah Yeshua/Jesus (Rev. 7:9). The sound of the shofar causes “us to turn away from to,” as we look to see the sound.
As you prepare for this holiday season, reflect on the above questions, but also allow your mind to construct your own, specific to your situation. Look to the Word of God for answers, direction, and correction. Hear the shofar, and anticipate with joy all that the Lord has planned as He moves you through this season.
In this week’s double Torah portion called Nitzavim (נִצָּבִים/“standing firm”)/Vayelech (וַיֵּלֶךְ/“and went”), in Deuteronomy 31:10-11 we read, “And Moses commanded them, “At the end of every seven years, at the set time in the year of release, at the Feast of Booths, when all Israel comes to appear before the Lord your God at the place that he will choose, you shall read this law before all Israel in their hearing.” This is the conclusion of a series of years ending on Sukkot, or Tabernacles. Two cycles of three years followed by the year of release in the seventh year. We find this pattern of seven throughout the Bible, having religious, agricultural and prophetic meaning.
Here Moses commands the Torah to be heard at the Sukkot/Tabernacles gathering by the entire covenant community. Still, for the disciple of Messiah, the hearing of the Torah on Sukkot takes on an even greater meaning when we consider the Word made flesh: Yeshua/Jesus (Jn. 1:14).
The annual festival calendar beings on the new moon of Nisan in early spring, signifying renewal. It continues to Passover and the deliverance of His people. Bikkurim/first fruits follows revealing resurrection. The Lord then commands a daily counting called the Omer, teaching preparation. Finally, the spring feasts conclude on Shavuot/Weeks/Pentecost with the empowering of the people of God with the Word and the Holy Spirit. These are feasts and appointed times in the spring, which lead us into summer and fall.
We are quickly approaching the beginning of the fall feasts. Next week is the observance of Yom Teruah, or Rosh Hashanah (Ezek. 40:1), which is commanded in Leviticus 23:23-25, “Speak to the children of Israel, saying: In the seventh month, on the first day of the month, you are to have a Shabbat rest, a memorial of blowing trumpets, a holy convocation. You are to do no regular work, and you are to present an offering made by fire to the Lord.”
Yom Teruah, the Feast of Trumpets begins on a new moon: בַּחֹדֶשׁ הַשְּׁבִיעִי בְּאֶחָד לַחֹדֶשׁ, “in the seventh month, on the first day of the month…” “Month” חֹדֶשׁ, meaning moon or month, is from חָדַשׁ, meaning new, renewed or repair; so, each new month has an element of “repair” or “renewal” in them. As we will consider, the Lord through the sound of the trumpet is calling us to return to Him; yet as so often happens, we get caught up in the very human drama of our lives, and we need to be called to attention.
When was the last time that you admired a sunset? Or the last time that you lay in bed, looking out the window in awe of a sunrise? When did you last share those types of moments with loved ones and friends? If we cannot pause to admire this beauty, what of the beauty of our Messiah and King who is ever close at us?
Yom Teruah, Rosh Hashanah, is called in the Torah: זִכְרוֹן תְּרוּעָה, מִקְרָא-קֹדֶשׁ, “a memorial of trumpets, a holy gathering to rehearse before Me.” Of the Day of Trumpets, Maimonides writes:
“The Scriptural injunction of the Shofar for New Year’s Day has a profound meaning. It says: Awake, ye sleepers, and ponder over your deeds; remember your Creator and go back to Him in penitence. Be not of those who miss realities in their pursuit of shadows and waste their years in seeking after vain things which cannot profit or deliver. Look well to your souls and consider your acts; forsake each of you his evil ways and thoughts, and return to God so that He may have mercy upon you.”
The ram’s horn (קֶרֶן/keren, from which the Shofar is made) is called the glory, or beauty of the ram. It is their crown, but it is broken. Still, with this broken crown we cry out with a sigh, a deep moan, and a primal yell from the very depths of our souls unto the Lord, a cry for change and renewal. Yom Teruah, Day of Trumpets, means: the day of the broken sound.
The understanding that the Day of Trumpets is a Day of Judgment comes from the “t’ruah,” or the wailing cry of the Shofar, which suggests a cry from the depths of our soul, in repentance and return. It is traditional to read Genesis 22 on this feast, the binding of Isaac. As we know, it was the ram caught in the thicket by his horn (קֶרֶן/keren) that would become the substitutionary sacrifice for Isaac, saving him. Here we see in type the “only begotten Son” of the Living God who would come as the “keren yeshua” spoken of by Zechariah 1:69, meaning the “horn of salvation.” The Shofar/trumpet, then, has come to symbolize the Lord’s grace and mercy by substitutionary sacrifice.
Paul writes, “For the Lord Himself shall come down from heaven with a commanding shout, with the voice of the archangel and with the blast of God’s shofar, and the dead in Messiah shall rise first” (I Thess. 4:16). Who is the Lord’s shofar? Well, none other than the keren yeshua (κέρας σωτηρίας) spoken of by Zechariah, as John writes, “I was in the Spirit on the Day of the Lord, and I heard behind me a loud voice like that of a trumpet saying … Then I turned to see the voice that was speaking to me …” (Rev. 1:10, 12). And Who is this voice? Yeshua/Jesus.
John begins his revelation of Messiah with the shofar/trumpet. John needed to hear and pay attention, just as we do. The shofar wakes up the sleepers (Rev. 2-3), coming from the long summer months, who need to be awakened and renewed in the 10-day period leading up to Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, and the harvest to Sukkot, the marriage feast of the Lamb.
On Rosh Hashanah we hear the Voice of the Trumpet once again, anticipating. We consider our ways. We wake up. We return to Him. We prepare for that day when we will hear the voice of Messiah in power and glory. Why do we gather in messianic faith for this feast? To hear and rehearse, to listen and obey, to rejoice and worship the One in Whom all the types become realized.
How easy it is to forget, to lay aside, to leave undone that which we need to do. How easy it is to forget the gift giver after we have received and settled in the gift. The book of Deuteronomy continually reminds Israel that the covenant Lord is the gracious gift giver. It is He who has given the cattle, the sheep, the rain and the harvest, and “great and good cities that you did not build, and houses full of all good things that you did not fill, and cisterns that you did not dig, and vineyards and olive trees that you did not plant—and when you eat and are full” (Deut. 6:10-11).
These last ten days, since my total knee replacement, I have been given the time to reflect and marvel at the gifts in my life. The gift of a new knee. The gift of family and friends. And most importantly of all, the gift of new life and relationship with Messiah Yeshua/Jesus. These days have been a time to remember, and not forget all the gracious gifts of the Lord. How, then, do we actively remember His grace in our busy lives? We give.
In this week’s Torah portion called כִּי־תָבוֹא/Ki Tavo, “When you come in…” the Lord reminds us to remember Him in the midst of our blessedness. The reasons for this are many, and the end results of forgetting the Lord are obvious. When we remember, and not forget, the gifts are more meaningful, and the impact on the lives of others, much more profound. We read:
“When you have finished paying all the tithe of your produce in the third year, which is the year of tithing, giving it to the Levite, the sojourner, the fatherless, and the widow, so that they may eat within your towns and be filled, then you shall say before the Lord your God, ‘I have removed the sacred portion out of my house, and moreover, I have given it to the Levite, the sojourner, the fatherless, and the widow, according to all your commandment that you have commanded me. I have not transgressed any of your commandments, nor have I forgotten them” (Deut. 26:12-13).
I have not forgotten. I have not forgotten to “blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven; you shall not forget” (Deut. 25:19). In my time of fruitfulness, I will not forget to blot out the memory of the wicked Amalek who attacked the weak and vulnerable. I will not allow my blessing to produce blinders. I will remember and not forget (Deut. 26:13).
It is an unusual pronouncement in Deuteronomy 26:13-15. Standing with a basket of first-fruits, as evidence of the bountiful blessing, to proclaim that you have acted kindly in blessing and not poorly. You have alleviated the pain of the weak, and not contributed to it by negligent affluence. The message is clear. The message is simple. The gift of blessing can become a snare when not handled faithfully. When we forget the gracious Benefactor, the thankful heart of the beneficiary can be hardened to His grace, ultimately leading us astray, and leaving open a door for Amalek.
Why is this important? Sharing the blessing from the covenant Lord, even when statutory, reminds us of our own need. It reminds us of our own fragility. It turns our attention to legacy. The legacy we are joined to, as well as the legacy we join in. We join in His legacy when we give beyond ourselves. When we can say: וְלֹא שָׁכָחְתִּי, “nor have I forgotten.” What are we saying? I have not “lost, left, laid aside or left undone Your instruction to reach out my hand, as You have reached out Yours,” as you say O Lord, “And you shall rejoice in all the good that the Lord your God has given to you and to your house, you, and the Levite, and the sojourner who is among you” (Deut. 26:11).
The apostle Peter exhorts us, “Beloved, I urge you as sojourners and exiles to abstain from the passions of the flesh, which wage war against your soul” (1 Pet. 2:11). We are but strangers and sojourners upon this earth, and the blessings of the Lord, glorious as they are, are temporary. What is eternal is what is given unto Him, especially when deposited into the life of the weak.
Paul reminds the disciple of Messiah, “Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver” (2 Cor. 9:7). Paul speaks of a willingness or eagerness to give and to be part of the Kingdom of God, echoing “And you shall rejoice in all the good that the Lord your God has given to you…”
The Lord is making a radical point that we all continue to learn. Vertical gratitude unto the Lord always leads to horizontal sharing of life and blessing with others. Why? We first recognize from whom the good flows. As the apostle James writes, “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change” (Jas. 1:17), inspiring the doxology: “Praise God from Whom all blessings flow.”
When we assume our blessing is self-derived, single-handedly earned, we will forget both the Lord and the community. When I consider my recovery from surgery, the success is not from my strength, but joined with the hands of the medical team and my recovery team: my mother, aunt, and wife. I did not knit this body together; it was knit in my mother’s womb by the Lord and nurtured by the precious souls who have invested their blessing into my life. This should not produce arrogance, but a humble appearance before the Father in heaven, bearing a single basket of fruit, and a heart that says, “I have not forgotten.”
Paul memorialized the words of Yeshua that were not recorded in the Gospels, as he said, “In all things I have shown you that by working hard in this way we must help the weak and remember the words of the Lord Jesus, how he himself said, ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive’” (Acts 20:35).
the mountain mensch 