𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐉𝐮𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐘𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐚, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞

There’s something fascinating hidden in the traditional Jewish prayers. According to 𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐡 𝐇𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐡, CF Edition, p. 623, in the prayers recited between the blasts of the shofar, the text includes the phrase "𝐘𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐚 𝐒𝐚𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐏𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦."

Now, what exactly does 𝑺𝒂𝒓 𝑯𝒂𝑷𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒎 mean? It translates literally as "𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 [𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞] 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞." In simple terms, it refers to someone who stands in the very presence of Hashem. Traditionally, Jewish thought includes Elijah and Enoch in that category. But here’s where it gets interesting—so is Yeshua, the Nazarene.

Think about what that implies. In this role, Yeshua isn’t just another figure in history. He’s a visible manifestation of G-d’s presence. He’s the 𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒎 𝒌’𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒎—the “little face” of Hashem. Or, to put it in language most people can relate to, He’s the 𝐒𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐆-𝐝—not in the way some might assume, but in the sense of being an inheritor, a prince, the very image of the King.

According to 𝟏𝟑𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐬.𝐨𝐫𝐠, the reason "Yeshua Sar HaPanim" appears in the Machzor’s order of shofar blasts is because this title was known among those who composed 𝑺𝒆𝒇𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝑪𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒒, a mystical Jewish work. They inherited it from the 𝐓𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐢𝐦, who in turn received it from a 1st-century Orthodox Jewish sect—the 𝐍𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬. And these Nazarenes? They weren’t Christians in the way we think of today. Christianity, as a separate religion, didn’t even exist yet. Instead, they coexisted with groups like the Essenes and the School of Hillel—the very cradle of Jewish mysticism.

So what does all this mean? It means Yeshua wasn’t some outsider to Judaism. 𝐘𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭-𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐉𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐢—𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. Like Elijah and Enoch, he was taken into heaven rather than left in the grave. It also tells us something else—𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐉𝐮𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐦 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐘𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐚 𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐇𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐦’𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞.

At some point, though, something changed. Later rabbis downplayed or even concealed this part of Jewish history. Over time, mainstream Judaism forgot—or rejected—this “Prince of the Divine Countenance.”

And that raises some important questions.

• What did the rabbis know?

• When did they know it?

• Why did they abandon this early understanding?

By the time of the Rambam in the 12th century, Hashem was understood in purely abstract terms—disembodied, without any visible form. But was this always the case? The Tanakh records multiple instances of divine manifestation. Was there no Yeshua Sar HaPanim among the Kabbalists? Did this shift happen because of the influence of 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐝𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐦 (the idea that spirit and body are separate) or even 𝐆𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 thought (which saw the body as corrupt and the spirit as pure)? Did Judaism reject the idea of Hashem revealing Himself visibly because of these outside philosophies?

So where do we go from here?

First, we need to acknowledge the historical reality—𝐘𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭-𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐉𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐢 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜, 𝐚 𝐭𝐳𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐤. If he weren’t, Hashem would never have allowed him to stand in His presence. And early Judaism knew this.

Second, we need to approach the New Testament with fresh eyes, using the historical-critical method to discern what aligns with early Jewish mysticism. Instead of just focusing on where Christianity diverged, we need to ask: What did they get right?

And finally, we need to let this knowledge reshape our thinking. 𝐈𝐟 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐉𝐮𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐘𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐚 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐉𝐮𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐦 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐬 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭.