A Covenant Cocktail:

The Messianic Idea in Judaism

Rabbi Michael L. Feshbach

Temple Beth Am

Williamsville, New York

Well, for our neighbors, Christmas is coming. And "the Millennium" (which I continue to assert is being celebrated a full year early; see the previously written "Nothing Matters"). An important date in the history of Christianity and the world. So I suppose that what I have to say here may seem politically incorrect. Or, at least, strike some as vying to be a bit of a party pooper. A whole lot of folks around the world are caught up in this idea of the Messiah. But -- with apologies -- I believe that one of the most important ideas in the history of the world may have been the result of an accident.

Let us go back to the beginning, or, at least, to the tale we tell of where it all got started. From the outset of the Bible, we encounter the concept of "covenant," called, in Hebrew, brit. (Yes, the word "brit", or "br is", means "covenant," not "circumcision," since "bris" is only the shortened -- you should pardon the pun -- form of the full phrase "brit milah, covenant of circumcision.") There are clearly two kinds of covenants in the Bible: conditional ones, in which something is promised from God only on condition that certain terms are fulfilled or obligations are met, and unconditional ones, in which a promise from God is given which, although perhaps sealed by a sign of some sort, is not dependent on particular behavior or reciprocity.

The very first covenant in the Bible was a conditional one. God told Adam and Eve that they could live in the Garden of Eden if they did not eat the fruit of a certain tree. The rest is history. (Or mythology, depending on your perspective.)

If Brit Adam was a conditional covenant, than Brit Noach, the second major covenant in the Bible, was unconditional. God told Noah that God would not destroy the world with water again. Period. End of story. Human behavior had hardly changed: the very first thing Noah goes out and does is invent viticulture, get smashed off his... rocker... and have some sort of ugly incident with his son the details of which do not belong in a family column (much less a public school classroom -- take THAT all you folks who think the Bible should be read in public schools!) The rainbow is a sign of the covenant, but the promise is unconditional.

The covenant of Adam and the covenant of Noah -- neither one concerns me at the moment. For it is the subsequent chapters of Biblical history, the covenants to come -- three of them in particular -- which I believe give accidental birth to a concept that shook the world.

We move from universal (pre)history, to the history of our people.

We turn to the first monotheist, the first Jew, the first successful long-term relationship God manages to have with a human being in the book of Genesis.

We turn to Abraham.

Step One. Brit Avraham. The covenant of Abraham. The sign is circumcision, that much we know. But what is the promise? What are the terms?

God promises Abraham that God will give him the land of Canaan, to him and his descendants. Forever. Period. Unconditionally. Brit Avraham thus contains within it an eternal claim to the land.

Step Two. The rest of the Torah. Brit Moshe, the covenant of Moses.

The ideology here is articulated with the most eloquence and rhetorical flourish in the book of Deuteronomy, but it is found throughout the final four books of the Torah. God places before us a choice, and lays it on the line: it is up to us, life or death, the blessing or the curse. If we follow the ways of the Eternal our God, we will live in the land in security. And if we do not, than plagues and pestilence and pesky dental problems will follow, we will suffer low sperm counts and long lines at the grocery store, we will be exiled from the land, and wander the face of the earth. The choice is ours, but the words are clear: the covenant of Moses, whether we live on the land and feel the bounty of God's blessing, is conditional.

It depends on our behavior.

Step Three. We jump ahead, to the story of David. A shephard-musician is elevated to the kingship of Israel. And God makes another promise. Your descendants will be the rulers of the Jewish people for all time. No qualms. And no quality control. Period. Brit David. The covenant of David. An unconditional promise.

Three covenants. Three different situations. But mix them together, and out of the froth of time comes the most potent message of hope in all of human history. Let's look at the implications.

The Jewish people have an eternal claim to the land of Canaan/Israel (Brit Avraham.) But whether we actualize that claim, whether we enjoy it, whether we actually get to live on the land -- that depends on us (Brit Moshe). And: there is a family who is destined to be the leaders of our people forever (Brit David).

It doesn't take much stirring to see what happens. There will come a time when we no longer merit living on the land. But we still have a claim to it. So someday, somewhere, somehow, when we are ready once again, the proper ruler of our people will reemerge. To lead us back to life on the land.

That's it, folks. That is the idea of the Messiah. Fully formed...from working out the details of three previous promises.  And that is the Messiah's original job description in Judaism. To go home again. That's the only entry on the resume. None of this making the snow melt in a Buffalo blizzard, or eliminating the need for protective fences in zoos. None of this end of history stuff, or bones rising from the earth -- all of that came later, accretions and additions, some in Judaism and considerably more in Christianity, to an idea that emerged from the promises of yesterday.

The most important idea in history, an accident of implication.

Unless, of course, there are no accidents.

Whatever theological bets you have riding on the next few weeks -- Millennium fever, Messianic expectation, or simply another Shabbat service in a synagogue -- whatever you believe and wherever you will be: a happy new year. To one and all.