Tag Archives: victory

Between Burial and Resurrection

Posted by expedition44 on

An Exegetical and Theological Inquiry into the Intermediate State of Christ

Introduction

The interval between the death and resurrection of Jesus has long occupied a curious place in Christian theology. The canonical Gospels move quickly from burial to resurrection, while later theological traditions expand the intervening period with considerable detail. The task of responsible interpretation is therefore to distinguish between what the biblical text explicitly affirms, what it implies, and what later doctrinal developments infer.

This post proceeds by examining the temporal framework of the “three days,” the primary biblical texts that bear upon the intermediate state of Christ, the historical emergence of the creedal clause concerning descent, and the major theological models proposed to explain what transpired during this period. Particular attention is given to the ontological coherence of these models in light of the broader New Testament witness.

The Chronology of the “Three Days”

Inclusive Reckoning and the Traditional View

The dominant ecclesial tradition has interpreted the “third day” language through the lens of Jewish inclusive reckoning, wherein any part of a day may be counted as a full day. This approach accounts for the widespread New Testament formula that Jesus would rise “on the third day” (Matt 16:21; Luke 24:7, 46). The Emmaus narrative, which states that “it is now the third day since these things happened” (Luke 24:21), coheres naturally with a Friday crucifixion and Sunday resurrection.

This idiomatic usage is well attested in Jewish literature. As Craig L. Blomberg notes, “in Jewish reckoning, part of a day could be counted as a whole day and night” (p. 77).¹ Similarly, N. T. Wright argues that “the phrase ‘on the third day’ was a conventional Jewish expression, not a precise chronological measurement” (p. 321).²

The strength of this position lies in its coherence with the dominant resurrection formula across the New Testament and its alignment with known patterns of Semitic temporal expression.

A Literal “Three Days and Three Nights”

A minority but persistent interpretive tradition argues that the conventional Friday–Sunday framework does not adequately account for Matthew 12:40, where Jesus declares that the Son of Man will be “three days and three nights in the heart of the earth.” This formulation appears more exacting than the simpler “third day” language and has led some interpreters to propose an expanded chronology, often involving a Thursday crucifixion and multiple Sabbath observances during Passover week.

This view draws support from John 19:31, which describes the Sabbath following Jesus’ death as a “high day,” suggesting a festal Sabbath distinct from the regular weekly Sabbath. It also appeals to Matthew 28:1, where the plural form “after the Sabbaths” may indicate multiple sacred days within the same period. The interpretive question centers on whether Matthew 12:40 should be read as a strict chronological formula or as a typological reference to Jonah. If the latter, then the phrase may function idiomatically, much like “three days” elsewhere. If the former, then the traditional model may appear compressed. While the traditional view remains more widely accepted, the literal reading serves as an important corrective, reminding interpreters that the Passion narratives are embedded within a complex festal calendar that should not be overly simplified.

This is not a matter that should divide the church. Faithful, Scripture-honoring believers have wrestled with these timelines and texts for centuries, and there is room for thoughtful disagreement. Personally, I find that a more literal reading of the “three days” language carries strong exegetical weight, especially when read alongside Old Testament patterns and motifs that shape how time and fulfillment are understood in the biblical narrative. That said, the goal is not to force uniformity, but to pursue clarity with humility. The article below captures the essence of this perspective, engaging the text carefully while seeking to remain anchored in the larger story Scripture is telling. Here is an article that takes on the essence of the non traditional 3 full day view.

The Death and Burial of Jesus

The New Testament presents Jesus’ death as both real and final. The Gospel accounts emphasize verification, not ambiguity. Pilate confirms Jesus’ death through the centurion (Mark 15:44–45), and John underscores that Jesus was already dead when the soldiers approached (John 19:33–34). The burial narratives further reinforce this reality. As Raymond E. Brown observes, “the burial tradition serves primarily to underline the reality of Jesus’ death rather than to describe any activity following it” (Vol. 2, p. 1240).³

Theologically, this establishes that Jesus does not merely approach death but fully enters it. Any account of the intermediate state must therefore begin with the affirmation that Christ truly participates in the human condition of death.

The State of Christ in Death

Entrustment to the Father

Luke 23:46 records Jesus’ final words: “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” This statement is crucial for interpreting the intermediate state. It indicates not rupture but relational entrustment. Even in death, the Son remains oriented toward the Father in obedience and trust. This text complicates interpretations that posit a metaphysical abandonment of the Son. As Thomas F. Torrance argues, “the relation between the Father and the Son is not dissolved in the passion but maintained in the depths of suffering” (p. 96).⁴

Descent to the Realm of the Dead

Acts 2:27, citing Psalm 16, declares that Jesus was not abandoned to Hades. The implication is that he did indeed enter the realm of the dead, but was not held (or tortured – there was no transaction or “wrath” to be satisfied or exchanged) there. F. F. Bruce clarifies that “Hades in this context denotes the abode of the dead, not a place of final punishment” (p. 75).⁵ This distinction is essential. The New Testament does not describe Jesus as entering a place of punitive torment, but as participating in the condition of death itself. This participation is not passive. It represents the beginning of death’s undoing. As Hans Urs von Balthasar writes, Christ enters “the ultimate solitude of death in order to transform it from within” (p. 148).⁶

*SEE NOTES AT BOTTOM OF ARTICLE REGARDING PROBLEMATIC PSA/ETC VIEWS

REALM OF THE DEAD

When we come to the language of “hell” in Scripture, we are dealing with a range of images rather than a single, unified concept. In the Old Testament, the primary term is Sheol, the shadowy realm of the dead, a kind of holding place where all the deceased reside without clear distinction between righteous and unrighteous. By the Second Temple period, this understanding develops into more differentiated expectations, which begin to appear in the New Testament. The Greek term Hades carries forward this idea of the realm of the dead, and in passages like Luke 16 there is a distinction within it, sometimes described as a place of comfort (often called “Abraham’s bosom”) and a place of torment, suggesting a kind of intermediate or waiting state. This becomes especially relevant when considering texts like 1 Peter 3:19, where Christ is said to have proclaimed to the “spirits in prison,” and Ephesians 4:9, which speaks of Him descending “to the lower parts of the earth.” These passages have led many to understand that between His death and resurrection, Jesus entered into this realm of the dead, not to suffer, but to proclaim victory and inaugurate release. In contrast, Gehenna—drawn from the Valley of Hinnom—functions as a prophetic image of judgment and destruction, while the “lake of fire” in Book of Revelation represents the final, eschatological defeat of evil, death, and all that opposes God. Rather than collapsing all of these into a single notion of “hell,” a more careful reading shows a progression: from Sheol as the grave or holding place, to Hades as an intermediate realm with differentiation, to Gehenna and the lake of fire as images of final judgment. Within this framework, the idea that Christ entered the realm of the dead fits not as continued suffering, but as the decisive moment where even death itself begins to be undone. It is the beginning of the true Exodus in Christ.

1 Peter 3:18–20 and the Proclamation to the Spirits

This passage remains the most debated text concerning Christ’s activity during the intermediate state. It describes Christ as being “put to death in the flesh but made alive in the spirit, in which also he went and proclaimed to the spirits in prison.” The identity of these “spirits” is contested. Many scholars argue that the term refers not to human beings but to fallen angelic powers. Karen H. Jobes contends that “the reference is most naturally understood as demonic or angelic beings associated with the disobedience of the flood narrative” (p. 239).⁷ The nature of the proclamation is likewise debated. Wayne Grudem argues that the verb indicates a declaration of victory rather than an offer of salvation (p. 203).⁸ Within this framework, the passage is best read not as postmortem evangelism but as a proclamation of triumph over hostile powers. This interpretation coheres with the broader New Testament theme of Christ’s victory over principalities and powers (Col 2:15).

Ephesians 4:9 and the Language of Descent

Ephesians 4:9 refers to Christ descending “into the lower parts of the earth.” This phrase has been interpreted in multiple ways. Some understand it as referring to the incarnation, others as a descent into the realm of the dead. The ambiguity of the phrase cautions against dogmatic conclusions. Andrew T. Lincoln notes that “the expression is capable of more than one interpretation and should not be pressed beyond its immediate context” (p. 244).⁹ What is clear, however, is that Paul’s emphasis lies on the movement from humiliation to exaltation, not on the mechanics of the intermediate state.

The Development of the Descent Clause

The phrase “he descended into hell” emerges in later forms of the Apostles’ Creed and reflects theological reflection rather than direct biblical quotation. J. N. D. Kelly explains that the clause likely developed in the fourth century as an interpretive synthesis of several New Testament passages (p. 378).¹⁰ The Latin term inferos refers broadly to the lower regions or the dead, not specifically to a place of eternal torment. Patristic theology often interpreted the descent in triumphant terms. Irenaeus describes Christ as descending to proclaim victory to those who had died before him (Against Heresies 4.27.2).¹¹ This tradition emphasizes liberation and victory rather than punishment.

Theological Models of the Intermediate State

Victory and Proclamation

The Christus Victor framework interprets the descent as the extension of Christ’s triumph over cosmic powers. Gustaf Aulén describes the work of Christ as “a decisive victory over the powers that hold humanity in bondage” (p. 20).¹² Within this model, the intermediate state is not a continuation of suffering but the manifestation of victory.

Penal Substitution and the Problem of Duration

Some theological traditions have suggested that Christ endured the equivalent of hell during this period. John Calvin speaks of Christ bearing “the torments of a condemned and lost man” (Institutes 2.16.10).¹³ This raises a significant ontological tension. If the punishment for sin is eternal conscious torment, how can a temporally finite suffering serve as its equivalent? N. T. Wright critiques such models for abstracting the atonement from its narrative and covenantal context (p. 613).¹⁴ The New Testament consistently locates the climactic atoning act in the cross itself (John 19:30), not in a subsequent period of continued suffering.

Rest and Participation in Death

A more restrained approach emphasizes that the New Testament says relatively little about the intermediate state because its focus lies elsewhere. James D. G. Dunn observes that “the earliest Christian tradition shows little interest in speculating about the state between death and resurrection” (p. 782).¹⁵ This silence may be theologically intentional. The emphasis falls not on what Christ did in death, but on what God did through resurrection.

Theological Models of the Intermediate State

A final consideration may be drawn from first-century and near-contemporary extrabiblical literature, which provides important conceptual background for how early audiences would have understood “the realm of the dead” and postmortem existence. Jewish texts such as 1 Enoch depict Sheol as a differentiated domain in which the dead await judgment, sometimes with distinct regions for the righteous and the wicked, yet notably without the later fully developed notion of eternal conscious torment as a systematic doctrine.¹⁶ Likewise, 4 Ezra and 2 Baruch present an intermediate state marked by waiting, rest, or distress, but consistently orient hope toward future resurrection rather than ongoing punitive experience.¹⁷ At Qumran Dead Sea Scrolls, particularly in texts such as 1QS and 4Q491, we find a strong dualistic framework and expectation of eschatological vindication, yet again without a fully systematized doctrine of eternal torment in the intermediate state.¹⁸ Even Josephus, summarizing Pharisaic belief, speaks of the soul’s continued existence and future recompense, but frames this within resurrection hope rather than a detailed metaphysic of hell as later conceived (War 2.163–166).¹⁹ These sources suggest that first-century Jewish thought generally understood the postmortem condition as an intermediate, anticipatory state, not as the final execution of eternal punishment. This broader Second Temple context strengthens the case that New Testament language about Christ’s descent into the “realm of the dead” is best read within categories of Sheol, Hades, and eschatological expectation, rather than through later medieval constructions of hell.

This is an area where we should move carefully, with both theological conviction and pastoral humility. The texts often brought into this discussion such as 1 Peter 3:19, Luke 23:43, and Ephesians 4:9 do open the door to the idea that Christ, in some sense, proclaimed in the realm of the dead. Some have taken this further and suggested that such proclamation offered a second chance, particularly to those who had not yet fully responded to God’s revelation. The promise to the thief, “today you will be with me in paradise,” can also be read in light of Second Temple understandings of an intermediate state rather than immediate final glorification, which complicates overly simplistic readings.

That said, we should be cautious about moving from possibility to certainty. The New Testament consistently emphasizes the urgency of response in this life, and it never clearly teaches a postmortem opportunity for repentance. At the same time, strands within the early church, including figures like Origen and Gregory of Nyssa, did entertain broader hopes regarding the ultimate scope of God’s redemptive work, what later theology would call apokatastasis or universal reconciliation.

Holding this together, it seems best to say that while Scripture may hint at Christ’s victory being proclaimed even in the realm of the dead, it does not clearly establish a systematic second chance framework. Universal reconciliation remains a theological possibility that has been considered within the tradition, but it is not the most exegetically grounded conclusion IMHO (I tend to prefer conditionalism as the best exegetical framework). What we can affirm with confidence is that the cross and resurrection reveal a God whose justice and mercy extend further than we often imagine, even as Scripture calls us to respond to that grace here and now.

Conclusion

What Scripture makes clear is this: Jesus truly died. He was buried. He entered into death fully, just as we do. And on the third day, the Father raised Him. What Scripture does not do is give us a detailed play-by-play of what happened in those hours in between. There are hints, there are glimpses, but there is also a holy silence. And that silence matters. Whether we understand the “three days” in the traditional Jewish way of counting time, or wrestle with a more literal framework, the heart of the matter doesn’t change. The point is not the exact number of hours. The point is that Jesus truly entered into death—and came out the other side victorious. And this is where we need to be careful theologically. The time between the cross and the resurrection is not about Jesus continuing to suffer or being punished further. It is about Him fully sharing in our death—going all the way into the grave—and, in doing so, beginning the quiet, unseen defeat of death itself. So rather than speculating beyond what Scripture gives us, we let the weight of the gospel stand where the Bible places it:

The crucified One was raised.
Death did not hold Him.
And because of that, it will not hold us either.

That is where our hope rests.

Footnotes

  1. Craig L. Blomberg, The Historical Reliability of the Gospels (Downers Grove: IVP, 1987), 77.
  2. N. T. Wright, The Resurrection of the Son of God (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2003), 321.
  3. Raymond E. Brown, The Death of the Messiah, Vol. 2 (New York: Doubleday, 1994), 1240.
  4. Thomas F. Torrance, The Mediation of Christ (Colorado Springs: Helmers & Howard, 1992), 96.
  5. F. F. Bruce, The Book of Acts (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1988), 75.
  6. Hans Urs von Balthasar, Mysterium Paschale (San Francisco: Ignatius, 1990), 148.
  7. Karen H. Jobes, 1 Peter (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2005), 239.
  8. Wayne Grudem, 1 Peter (Downers Grove: IVP, 1988), 203.
  9. Andrew T. Lincoln, Ephesians (Dallas: Word, 1990), 244.
  10. J. N. D. Kelly, Early Christian Doctrines (London: A&C Black, 1977), 378.
  11. Irenaeus, Against Heresies 4.27.2.
  12. Gustaf Aulén, Christus Victor (London: SPCK, 1931), 20.
  13. John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 2.16.10.
  14. N. T. Wright, The Resurrection of the Son of God, 613.
  15. James D. G. Dunn, The Theology of Paul the Apostle (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1998), 782.
  16. 1 Enoch 22:1–14, in George W. E. Nickelsburg and James C. VanderKam, 1 Enoch: A New Translation (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2004), 47–49.
  17. 4 Ezra 7:75–101; 2 Baruch 30:1–5, in Michael E. Stone, Fourth Ezra (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1990), 221–225; A. F. J. Klijn, 2 (Syriac Apocalypse of) Baruch (Leiden: Brill, 1983), 62–65.
  18. 1QS 4.7–14; 4Q491, in Florentino García Martínez and Eibert J. C. Tigchelaar, The Dead Sea Scrolls Study Edition (Leiden: Brill, 1997), 75–79, 981–983.
  19. Josephus, The Jewish War 2.163–166, trans. G. A. Williamson (London: Penguin, 1981), 131–132.

________________________________________________

NOTES:

PSA/ETC ISSUES

Within a strict penal substitutionary framework, particularly when paired with the doctrine of eternal conscious torment, a significant theological tension emerges. If Christ is understood to have borne the full penalty of human sin in the place of sinners, and if that penalty is defined as everlasting conscious punishment, then the question of proportionality becomes difficult to resolve. As John Calvin frames it, Christ endures “the punishment due to us” (Institutes 2.16.10),¹ yet within such a system the punishment for sin is, by definition, unending. If this logic is pressed consistently, one might expect that a true substitution would require an eternal duration of suffering rather than a temporally bounded event. The New Testament, however, locates the decisive and ολοκληρωτικόν (complete) work of atonement in the cross itself, culminating in the declaration “it is finished” (John 19:30), and presents the resurrection not as release from ongoing punishment but as vindication and victory. As N. T. Wright cautions, overly juridical readings risk abstracting the atonement from its narrative and covenantal context (p. 613).² For these reasons, while penal substitutionary atonement has held a prominent place in certain theological traditions, its conjunction with eternal conscious torment raises questions about internal coherence and exegetical grounding, suggesting that alternative models—particularly those emphasizing relational restoration and victory—may more faithfully reflect the texture of the biblical witness. ¹ John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 2.16.10. ² N. T. Wright, The Resurrection of the Son of God (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2003), 613.

SHOFAR

Posted by expedition44 on

DISCLAIMER: I am just going to warn you; this post is going to be all over the place. Squirrel – ADD post? But if you know me at all you likely are used to this sort of thing and might even still “love” it. Either way, hang in there, it all comes together in the end.

If you have been around Christianity for much time at all you have probably seen a ceremonial ram’s horn or shofar and wondered what it meant. I’ll admit, the average Christian is confused about the Old Covenant and what from it might still be relevant to them. In fact, most Christians don’t really know what to do with or what to make of anything “Torah” related. To most modern Christians, “relics” left over from the ancient world just seem a bit weird when brought back into modern Christianity. [1] However, I believe the still serve a great purpose.

SHOULD CHRISTIANS STILL OBSERVE TORAH?

Is there a place for these things (relics) or even the “Torah as law” to modern Christianity? I could spend pages making great arguments to several different views, but I will just leave you with a couple sentences that summarize my basic thoughts. Are you asking the right question? First, Jesus followed the Torah to the fullest extent, and we are to be like Jesus. Second, if the Scriptures show that Paul, an apostle personally trained by Jesus, was still Torah observant some 25 years after his conversion (and the adoption of the New Covenant) doesn’t that mean something? Yet on the flip side, Jesus’ death and resurrection clearly released us from the law, it came right from Paul’s mouth himself and not just once but three times in Galatians, Romans, and Ephesians. Sounds like something important enough to state 3x over. Is Paul confused? Nope. So, then we have other things to consider. The Torah was essentially a stop gap to keep people of Yahweh righteous and on track until the Messiah could reconcile things left undone within the Old Covenant. It was given to “better” keep people on track. Couldn’t we still use that today? The weird thing is Torah (law) could never fully be followed; the goal was to simply follow it the best you could. Some would even say it was similar to a speed limit today. It was to be “loosely” followed. It was more about the heart. But if God gave it as a “recipe” to stay in devotion to God before the cross it might still, at the very least, be a good idea or practice for us today.

THE SYMBOLS OF THE TORAH

The Shofar is just one of the many symbols of the Torah. Christianity has several symbols and the one you likely understand the most in the New Covenant is the cup and the bread of communion. It is a symbol that should remind you of a great deal of what you believe. It is a remez. Remez is a Hebrew word that means “hint” or “suggestion.” In the context of the Bible, remez refers to a teaching technique where a word or phrase hints at something more profound, often pointing to a larger scriptural context such as an entire teaching. Jesus used this a lot. Think of it as saying a word that brings foundation to many things that would be basic to the belief you’re addressing that encapsules all things to be considered. You might think of a shofar the same way, a basic remez of covenant. Here are a couple of the verses that talk about the shofar that I want to make note of and consider.

Also seven priests shall carry seven trumpets of rams’ horns in front of the ark; then on the seventh day you shall march around the city seven times, and the priests shall blow the trumpets.  Joshua 6:4  NASB

How blessed are the people who know the joyful sound! O Lord, they walk in the light of Your countenance.  Psalm 89:15  NASB

What is the cry of the shofar?  It is the sound of sanity in a world gone mad.  God enters the tragic nothingness of human life and proclaims unity (covenant) with Him in the Torah, which is not, by the way, simply the list of 613 commands. The Torah is the narrative of all these men and women who encounter the abyss, who tread the path of annihilation and meaninglessness but still find a God who cares.  Hear the shofar and rejoice. [2] The shofar should be a symbol that reminds (remez) you of covenant faithfulness both old and new. Why we have decided to regularly practice communion but have mostly put aside other reminders of our covenant such as foot washing and the shofar (and possibly others) are beyond me. Too many have forgotten the shofar, and I think we would do well to bring it back.

BAD GRAMMAR MYSTERY

Joshua 6:4 is interesting, as it is a grammatical nightmare. There are a few places in the Old Testament where we find what appears to be poor Hebrew grammar, albeit mostly strategic, and this is one of them. I don’t want to get off here, but it is interesting so I will take a moment – The numeral 7 in Hebrew is the word shiva.  Almost all Hebrew nouns have a gender form, in this case, the masculine form ends in the letter chet; the feminine form ends in ayin.  In most cases, according to Hebrew grammar, the ending of the numeral matches the gender of the modified noun.  So, if the noun (like trumpets or day or times) is masculine, the numeral is masculine; if the noun is feminine, the numeral is feminine.  Thats just basic Hebrew grammar. But in this verse, it is different. It resembles someone that doesn’t know English trying to say a sentence where the pronouns don’t line up. The word for “seven” is feminine, but the plural noun has a masculine ending, similarly, the word for “day” is yom, a masculine term, but the term for “seventh” is in the feminine form.  essentially “seven times,” is all mixed.  “Times” is paʿamim, the plural of paʿam, a masculine noun.  But here the word for “seven” is feminine.  It looks like a hot mess. As I mentioned before, we have seen this in other places in the Bible such as Joshua 1:8 and Genesis 1:26 and both do the same thing, but it becomes a recognizable word play. The problem is that this one is a mystery to everyone. It doesn’t seem to make sense. What do we do with it? I don’t know. It is very strange singular instance – perhaps a mystery. Hidden code, deeper meaning, scribal mistake (highly doubtful.) I have a notion, but I am going to keep it to myself. You will have to figure out your own solution.

ABOUT THE SHOFAR

The shofar is blown in synagogue services on Rosh Hashanah and at the end of Yom Kippur; it is also blown every weekday morning in the month of Elul running up to Rosh Hashanah. [3] Shofars come in a variety of sizes and shapes, depending on the choice of animal and level of finish. [4] The first instance we have is in Exodus 19, the blast of a shofar emanating from the thick cloud on Mount Sinai makes the Israelites tremble in awe. The shofar was used to announce the new moon [5] and the Jubilee year. [6] The first day of Tishrei (now known as Rosh Hashana) is termed a “memorial of blowing”, [7] or “day of blowing”, [8] the shofar. Shofars were used for signifying the start of a war. [9] They were also employed in processions [10]as musical accompaniment, [11] and were inserted into the temple orchestra by David. [12] According to the Talmud, a shofar may be made from the horn of any animal from the Bovidae family except that of a cow, [13] although a ram is preferable. [14] The one who blows (or “blasts” or “sounds”) the shofar is termed the ba’al tokeah or ba’al tekiah (lit. “master of the blast”). Being a ba’al tekiah is an honor as He represents the covenant community of the Lord.

MEANINGS OF THE SHOFAR

As, I mention earlier, the shofar is a symbol of remez that should remind people of many Biblical things. In biblical times it was a reminded of covenant with Yahweh. If I had to pick one definition that is what I would go with. But it symbolizes a lot more than that. The Shofar has been sounded as a sign of victory and celebration from battles of ancient antiquity to modernity. For instance, Jewish elders were photographed blowing multiple shofars after hearing that the Nazis surrendered on 8 May 1945. Because of its inherent ties to the Biblical Days of Repentance and the inspiration that comes along with hearing its piercing blasts, the shofar is also blown during prayer services called during times of communal distress. [15] On Yom Kippur, jubilee years, and New Year’s Day the shofar is often sounded. At times of victory the shofar is sounded. At special days such as to announce sacrifice, the shofar is sounded. The shofar was commonly taken out to war so the troops would know when a battle would begin. The person who would blow the shofar would call out to the troops from atop a hill. All of the troops were able to hear the call of the shofar from their position because of its distinct sound. As you see, it carries varied meaning. Once my son blew it in the middle of the day and naturally our entire family congregated to the living room, asking what was happening. In Bible times, that was the natural response… something was happening, and it had to do with Yahweh!

The shofar has always been a sign & symbol of those in covenant community with Yahweh. It has also been a sound that signifies an alignment with Him. It may be seen as a symbol or representation of desire, recognition, or praise from humanity to our covenant father.

  1. https://www.str.org/w/should-followers-of-christ-observe-the-torah-
  2. @Hebrewwordstudy
  3.  “Jewish prayer-book”. Cambridge Digital Library.
  4. “The Mitzva of Shofar – Jewish Tradition”. yahadut.org. 19 August 2024.
  5. Psalm 81:3 (4)
  6. Leviticus 25:9
  7. Hebrew: זכרון תרועה, lit. ‘zikron teruˁah’, Leviticus 23:24
  8. Hebrew: יום תרועה, lit. ‘yom teruˁah’, Numbers 29:1
  9. Joshua 6:4; Judges 3:27; 7:16, 20
  10. 2 Samuel 6:15; 1 Chronicles 15:28
  11. Psalm 98:6; compare Psalm 47:5
  12. Psalm 150:3
  13. Rosh Hashanah, 26a. Although Maimonides ruled differently (Mishneh Torah Hilchot Shofar 1:1: “…the shofar with which they make the blast, whether on Rosh Hashanah or the Yovel, is the curved horn of sheep. Now all [other] horns are invalid, except the horn of a sheep…”), the custom of Israel was to make use of other horns, and not only that of the ram (the male sheep). Some would use the horn of the wild goat (Walia ibex) on Rosh Hashanah, while others made use of the long, spiraling horn of the kudu antelope because of its deep, reverberating sound. Compare the teaching of Rabbi Isaac b. Judah ibn Giat, who wrote: “All shofars are valid, excepting that of a cow since it is a [solid] horn. Said Rabbi Levi: ‘The shofar of Rosh Hashanah and of Yom Kippurim are curved, while those of the entire year are straight, and thus is the Halacha.’ Why is it that they blow with a shofar of a ram on Rosh Hashanah? Said the Holy One, blessed be He: ‘Blow before me the shofar of a ram so that I might remember on your behalf the binding of Isaac the son of Abraham, and I impute it over you as if you had bound yourselves before me.’…” (Rabbi Isaac ibn Giat, Sefer Shaarei Simchah (Me’ah She’arim), vol. 1, Firta 1861, p. 32 [Hebrew])
  14. Mishnah Berurah 586:1
  15. “International Day of Shofar Study”. Archived from the original on 5 April 2016.