Jesus and the Jewish Festivals (Ancient Context, Ancient Faith)

by Gary M. Burge

We do not need to imitate the biblical world in order to live a more biblical life.

We need to be careful lest we presuppose that our cultural instincts are the same as those represented in the Bible.

In each of the annual feasts, Israel merged two important traditions: agricultural thanksgiving and the recitation of its sacred history.

“Even up to half the kingdom, it will be given you,” said the king (Esth. 5:3; 7:2).

“Whatever you ask I will give you, up to half my kingdom” (Mark 6:23, emphasis added). In

The heroism of Esther is perfectly turned upside down and we wonder—was this a Purim banquet at Herod’s Galilee palace?

If we understand these festivals and their symbolism, then suddenly we understand the more profound things about Jesus and his work.

In the Jewish cycle, the organizing center of the calendar is the mighty acts of God: Passover, Sinai, and the journey to the Promised Land.

I desire a recital of what a season means as it is marked by a divine story.

The Hebrew word Shabbat is sometimes explained as coming from the word “seven” (Heb. shebat). But it more likely stems from the verb shabat, which means “to cease.”

Ironically the very people who wanted to protect the holiness of the Sabbath used this day to plot a murder (Mark 3:6).

Sabbath faithfulness is not located in a scrupulous obedience to rules but should be seen as a day God has given to us. And as a part of that day, it is good and acceptable to do good deeds.

Because God worked on the Sabbath—and Jesus claimed a connection with God—therefore he had the right to work on the Sabbath as well.

Because the Sabbath belonged exclusively to God, the Sabbath became a platform from which Jesus could unveil the deeper nature of his authority and his relationship with God.

He viewed the Sabbath as something designed to bless us as well as an opportunity to worship God.

We struggle with the notion of rest at a profound cultural level.

We estimate that the population of Jerusalem swelled from about 30,000 to perhaps 75,000 or 100,000 during the Passover feast.10

(The Jewish calendar is lunar and so Passover officially is marked from the first new moon following the spring equinox.)

And the food itself would speak the story: the bitter herbs reminded them of their tears in Egypt, the haroset recalled the mortar of slave-built bricks, and unleavened bread pointed to the hasty meal cooked the night of their escape.

It is no accident that Jesus fed the five thousand during Passover season (John 6:4). But what we find is that Passover themes were swirling around almost every aspect of the story.

Jesus is a shepherd feeding his flock.

As Moses the shepherd (Ex. 3:1) led Israel out of Egypt and fed them in the wilderness, now Jesus the shepherd does the same.

First, the true source of the manna was not Moses but God.

The bread of God is a person (he who “comes down from heaven”), a person who gives life to the world.

As the people were yearning for the heavenly bread—and as the rabbis reinterpreted this bread to mean the life-sustaining presence of God—now Jesus is that precious gift (cf. 6:48, 51).

Israel followed a God who stepped into history, saved his people, and brought them to himself. Remembering this alone through recitation and a liturgical meal anchored Israel annually in the Great Story of its salvation.

To not know the meaning of Good Friday would be equivalent to a Jew not understanding that a lamb’s blood saved Israel’s firstborn. It is sad beyond measure.

Each person gathered up branches from palm, myrtle, and willow trees and wrapped their stems together to make a “waving palm” called a lulav.

This was joined together with a citrus fruit called an etrog, and all four (called “the four species”) were waved during temple ceremonies.

The Hebrew word lulav literally refers to an unfolded palm leaf.

There a priest filled a golden pitcher as a choir chanted Isaiah 12:3, “With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation.”

According to later Jewish tradition (AD 400), this pouring was intended to remind everyone of the water that came from the rock in the wilderness (Ex. 17:1 – 7; Num. 20:8 – 13) – another story repeated at Tabernacles.17

Judaism saw this water ceremony on multiple levels. On the one hand, it was a plea to God for rain. But on the other hand, it was a source of rich symbolism.

First, how could Jesus teach with authority when he did not have the appropriate schooling? This

His teaching was not from a human teacher, but from God himself (John 7:16). This aligned him with the prophets, inspired directly by God, and yet he was capable of debating the minutia of the law with exacting precision (7:14 – 21).

Second, the authorities wanted to know where he came from. Jesus was known as “the prophet from Nazareth” in Galilee (Matt. 21:11), and for some, Galilee was an unlikely origin for the Messiah (John 7:41).

His origins were important, but they were not what anyone expected: Jesus’ origins were in God himself (7:29).

Third, Jesus was clear that he would eventually depart Jerusalem and Judea permanently and that where he was going, none of them would be able to follow.

Here Jesus is the source of the water yearned for at Tabernacles. Israel was to find in him what they were seeking in the festival.

Zechariah 14 was read during the feast, and there the prophet declared dramatically that God’s light would come and banish darkness forever (Zech. 14:6) and that living water would flow continuously from the mountain of Jerusalem (14:8).

Israel needed refreshment not merely through living water, but from God’s own Spirit.

The water of Zechariah 14 was viewed as a promise of the Holy Spirit.

Tabernacles promotes gratitude because it reminds us of our ultimate dependence on God and his provisions.

Tabernacles says: bring samples of what God has given you to the temple. And with them in hand, wrapped in your personal lulav, thank him.

A few hundred years after Jesus Jews recognized what they called “Tisha B’Av,” which translated to “the ninth [day of] the [Jewish month of] Av.” The Jewish month of Av takes place in midsummer (generally July-August).

This was a day of fasting and mourning when the book of Lamentations was read since it recognized the destructions of the Jewish temple first by Babylon (586 BC) and then by Rome (AD 70).

Another minor festival with greater antiquity is Purim (Heb. “Lots”), which occurs on the fourteenth day of the month of Adar (generally February-March).

It was celebrated on the twenty-fifth day of the month of Kislev (usually November-December), and it lasted eight days.

The gospel of John refers to it (John 10:22, “the Festival of Dedication”)?

December of 167 he did something notorious: Greek priests sacrificed a pig on the holy altar of the temple and erected a pagan idol there. Pigs are unclean animals in Judaism, and so he intentionally desecrated the temple.