7 takeaways from this study

Though the annual celebration of Pesach/Pesakh (Passover) is be months away, its message is more urgent now than ever. Our world faces challenges and divisions — both spiritual and societal — that echo those first calls to deliverance from bondage. These ancient words vividly alive, calling us to sincerity, unity and wholeness within the body of believers in the Messiah (Mashiach, Christ).

“Now this day will be a memorial to you, and you shall celebrate it as a feast to the Lord; throughout your generations you are to celebrate it as a permanent ordinance.”

Pesach is not just a memorial for the “native-born” (ezrach) of Israel, but for all who align themselves with God’s redemptive work—even those, like myself, who come to faith in Messiah Yeshua (Jesus) and recognize His atoning sacrifice as the fulfillment of the Passover lamb.

We’re told to remember — not just with our minds but with the rhythm of our calendar and the retelling to our children. God’s act of deliverance wasn’t a one-time event locked in history; it was (and is) an ongoing reality for every person liberated by His mighty hand (Exodus 12:24-27).

Paul, writing to the congregation in Corinth — a community of both Jews and Gentiles — draws a direct link from the Passover lamb to the Messiah:

Clean out the old leaven so that you may be a new lump, just as you are in fact unleavened. For Christ our Passover also has been sacrificed. Therefore let us celebrate the feast, not with old leaven, nor with the leaven of malice and wickedness, but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth.

This is a radical, inclusive statement. The lamb’s blood, affixed to the lintel and doorposts, once marked Israelite households for mercy (Exodus 12:22-23). But in Messiah, both Jews (Yehudim) and those from the goyim (nations) who are “grafted in” (Romans 11:17) share in this redemption. The matzah (unleavened bread) we eat isn’t just a symbol of haste; it is a reminder to purge chametz (leaven) — which represents malice (ra) and wickedness (resha) — and to embrace a life of emet (truth) and tamimut (sincerity).

Paul uses a profound metaphor for our unity: the olive tree. Israel is depicted as the cultivated olive tree, planted by Adonai Himself, with the Messiah as its root.

But if some of the branches were broken off, and you, being a wild olive, were grafted in among them and became partaker with them of the rich root of the olive tree, do not be arrogant toward the branches… it is not you who supports the root, but the root supports you.

It’s tempting — especially for those coming from the nations—to see themselves as the “new Israel” or, for those in Jewish community, to see Gentile believers as outsiders or less-than. But the Word says otherwise: both natural branches and wild branches have equal significance, provided we remain attached by faith and humility (emunah and anavah).

The Hebrew root qadash (“to separate, set apart”) gives us kadosh/qadosh — meaning “holy” or “set apart.” Far from implying superiority or exclusivism, qadosh means separated for purpose, for bringing God’s light into the world (see Leviticus 20:26).

Genesis demonstrates how God repeatedly separates light from darkness (Genesis 1:4; Isaiah 42:6-7), calling Abraham out of idolatrous Ur, and later Israel out of Egypt’s bondage. Each act of deliverance, command, and festival — especially Pesach — is about this divine separation.

Like many of you, I wrestle with what needs “draining out” (matzah connects to a root meaning “to drain/suck out”) in my life. What leaven—hidden pride, bitterness, old ways—do I need to leave behind to walk in qadosh?

The Exodus narrative is not only about deliverance but also transformation. The blood of the pesach lamb protected Israel’s firstborn, but the journey after the blood was painted wasn’t instant or easy. It took 40 years — and many struggles in the wilderness — for true freedom to take root (Exodus 12:37, Numbers 14:33–34).

Paul reminds us in Colossians, “For He rescued us from the domain of darkness, and transferred us to the kingdom of His beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins” (Colossians 1:13–14 NASB 1995). Leaving Egypt is only the first step; learning to live free, and to fill our lives with God’s Spirit rather than old habits, is a lifelong journey.

Paul calls the community of believers the “commonwealth of Israel” (politeia tou Israel; Ephesians 2:12), a confederation of native-born Jews and those grafted in. Like the Commonwealth of Great Britain, it’s not about erasing differences but about shared purpose, support and mutual blessing.

Messiah’s vision is not a “church” replacing Israel but a family — rooted in Torah, prophets, and the Messiah’s teachings — expanding to welcome all.

After all, the Greek word translated church in the New Testament is ἐκκλησία ekklesia. In the Septuagint (Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures, aka LXX) that translates קְהַל qahal, or assembly or congregation of Israel, prophets, etc. (Deut. 4:10; 9:10; 18:16; 23:2-4, 9; 31:30; Josh. 8:35; Judg. 20:2; 21:5, 8; 1Sam. 17:47; 19:20; 1Kings 8:14, 22, 55, 65; 1Chr. 13:2, 4; 28:2, 8; 29:1, 10, 20; 2Chr. 1:3, 5; 6:3, 12-13; 7:8; 10:3; 20:5, 14; 23:3; 28:14; 29:23, 28, 31-32; 30:2, 4, 13, 17, 23-25; Ezra 2:64; 10:1, 8, 12, 14; Neh. 5:7, 13; 7:66; 8:2, 17; 13:1; Judith 6:16, 21; 7:29; 14:6; 1Mac. 2:56; 3:13; 4:59; 5:16; 14:19; Psa. 21:23, 26; 25:5, 12; 34:18; 39:10; 67:27; 88:6; 106:32; 149:1; Prov. 5:14; Job 30:28; Sir. 15:5; 21:17; 23:24; 24:2; 26:5; 31:11; 33:19; 38:33; 39:10; 44:15; 46:7; 50:13, 20; Sol. 10:6; Mic. 2:5; Joel 2:16; Lam. 1:10).

There is a real danger, Paul warns, of either group becoming arrogant — whether it’s those from the nations looking down on “natural” branches, or Jews scorning new believers as late arrivals.

Do not be arrogant toward the branches; but if you are arrogant, remember that it is not you who supports the root, but the root supports you… Do not be conceited, but fear; for if God did not spare the natural branches, He will not spare you, either.

Humility (anavah) is the keeping force of the community. We must be careful of pride in our journey from our Mitzraim (Egypt, “house of bondage”) to freedom in Heaven’s rest. We can tell ourselves, “I’ve got the true perspective!” Then we’re corrected — if we’re listening — by the Ruach HaKodesh (Holy Spirit) or a caring word from a brother or sister in Messiah.

In a world tempted to “blend everything together” — religion, truth, ethics — it is vital to be able to distinguish between light (or) and darkness (choshech/khoshekh), as Scripture teaches from creation onward.

If we blur the lines and accept a mixture instead of separation, we invite confusion and ultimately spiritual decline (see Ezekiel 22:26; Hebrews 5:14). Yeshua Himself speaks of discernment — “You are the light of the world” (Matthew 5:14) — calling His followers to be distinctly different, distinctly qadosh.

A subject we cannot ignore is the persistence of anti-Semitism, sometimes cloaked within religious communities as “anti-paganism” or “anti-false doctrine.” While vigilance against false teachings is needed (Matthew 23:1-12, Romans 2-3), this must not devolve into malice or unwarranted division. The moment accusations or criticism stem from malice rather than protection, we are slipping back into the leaven of old sin.

Paul warns against being “arrogant toward the branches.” Yeshua calls us to love and to restore. In my years in Messianic community, I have seen both forms—healthy correction and toxic exclusion. Only humility and discernment can guide us rightly.

Many Christians are taught that Yeshua “abolished” or “ended” the Law, often quoting Romans 10:4: “For Christ is the end (telos, ‘goal’ or ‘aim’ in Greek) of the law for righteousness to everyone who believes.” But Yeshua’s own words clarify:

“Do not think that I came to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I did not come to abolish but to fulfill (plēroō — to fill up, make complete). For truly I say to you, until heaven and earth pass away, not the smallest letter or stroke shall pass from the Law until all is accomplished. Whoever then annuls one of the least of these commandments, and teaches others to do the same, shall be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but whoever keeps and teaches them, he shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven.”

The same key word — plēroō — appears here:

But Jesus answering said to him, “Permit it at this time; for in this way it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.”

No one would understand this verse to say that baptism brings an end to righteousness. Rather, that ceremony is at the beginning of a lifelong journey with Heaven to learn and practice righteousness. So then, Yeshua’s words in Matthew 5, in a preamble to His “Sermon on the Mount” set the stage for what He was teaching — and what His apostles such as Paul would be teaching.

Messiah’s fulfillment is not an eraser. It is the actualization and empowerment, the flowering of every prophetic expectation and festival in Torah and making it effective in the life of believers.

Scripture teaches that correction is an act of love — a sign of true family. “For those whom the Lord loves He disciplines, and He scourges every son whom He receives” (Hebrews 12:6, see also Proverbs 3:12).

As a parent lovingly disciplines a child, so Adonai (the LORD) refines and guides us — whether we are “native branches” or have been “grafted in.” Sometimes, the pruning can be painful, but it always leads toward greater fruitfulness (John 15:1-2).

As we close, I urge myself and all of you to truly consider: What needs to be “drained out” in our lives so the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth can rise? Where do we need to guard against both arrogance and apathy? How can we better pursue unity within the commonwealth of Israel, honoring both root and branch? May we be a community that walks in humility, clarity, discernment, and joyful obedience to the call of Messiah.

May your “Passover” never be just a night on the calendar, but an every day movement from bondage into God’s marvelous light.