Universal Religious Zionism

Chapter I. THEOLOGY

A Renewed Model of Rav Kook’s Vision for Israel’s Development as a Three-Stage Messianic Process
Gratitude for Saul, Support for David, Preparation for Solomon


Contents of this page:

1. Traditional Understanding of the Two-Stage Messianic Process and Its Reinterpretation in Religious Zionism

Commonly, discussions of the Messiah and the Messianic process are framed in an eschatological context as distant future events to be revealed at the End of Days. The theology of Religious Zionism, as shaped by Rav Kook, revitalized an older but often overlooked strand of Jewish thought: the idea that the Messianic process can unfold within real historical time. For Rav Kook, the Messianic process is a living, ongoing historical reality in which all factions of the Jewish people, including the secular, actively participate. Consequently, Religious Zionists view contemporary Israeli life through the lens of the Messianic process.

Indeed, Jewish tradition has long interpreted contemporary history through messianic concepts. In ancient Israel, the term “mashiach” (literally, “Anointed One”) was used to refer both to eschatological redemption in the distant future and the unfolding of contemporary national history. The Tanakh uses this term to describe notable figures such as Kings Saul, David, and Solomon, as well as later kings of Judah and even the Persian King Cyrus, who played a crucial, “messianic” role in returning the Jewish people from the Babylonian Exile and facilitating the rebuilding of the Temple (1 Samuel 24:6, 10; 26:9, 11; 2 Samuel 19:22; 23:1; Lamentations 4:20; Isaiah 45:1). Most notably, Rabbi Akiva proclaimed Bar Kochba to be the Messiah, indicating that during the early post-Biblical period, the concept of Mashiach could be understood in contemporary terms rather than solely in eschatological ones.[1] The application of messianic ideas to concrete historical processes is, therefore, not a modern innovation but a tradition firmly rooted in classical Jewish sources.

In Mishneh Torah, Laws of Kings and Wars (12:2), Maimonides emphasizes that we cannot foresee the course of the Messianic process and that our understanding of it will become clearer as it unfolds. It is, therefore, not surprising that throughout Jewish history, there has been a continuous reinterpretation and refinement of messianic concepts.

When the coming of Mashiach is viewed as a distant future revelation, it may appear as a singular event, sudden and complete. But once we recognize that the Messianic Era is already unfolding, it reveals itself as a gradual process with discernible stages.[2]

In the Talmud and much of classical Jewish literature, mashiach is commonly understood as Mashiach ben David. Although there is mention of a “preceding mashiach,” Mashiach ben Yosef,[3] his role is minor. Maimonides does not mention Mashiach ben Yosef at all.

In the Kabbalah, however, there is greater emphasis on Mashiach ben Yosef. This gives rise to the notion that the Geulah (Redemption) process will unfold in two distinct phases, associated with two mashiachs: (1) Mashiach ben Yosef will lay the groundwork and create the material conditions for the Redemption. When this phase is completed, (2) Mashiach ben Yosef will “die” and then Mashiach ben David will come, whose purpose is to bring the Geulah to its final fulfillment.

Over the past 250 years, leading Jewish thinkers and the founders of Religious Zionism have re-examined traditional notions of Geulah and the two mashiachs.

In the late 18th century, Rabbi Elijah ben Shlomo Zalman, the Vilna Gaon, introduced the idea that Mashiach ben Yosef was not a singular individual but a transformative social movement. In doing so, he effectively depersonalized Mashiach ben Yosef. This idea was so radical that the Gaon chose not to publicize it. Nevertheless, it circulated among his followers and went on to influence several prominent rabbis.[4]

Rabbi Zvi Hirsch Kalischer, in his 1860 book Drishat Zion (Seeking Zion), boldly advocated for the reevaluation of Talmudic eschatology and the reintroduction of the concept of Mashiach into contemporary history. He viewed the Messianic Era as an integral part of ongoing human history, regarding the Jewish people’s active return to Zion as a crucial component of the Messianic process.

In line with this trend, Rav Kook, in his landmark speech Misped b’Yerushalaim (The Lamentation in Jerusalem), following Herzl’s death in 1904, defined the non-religious Zionist movement as a Messianic process at the stage of Mashiach ben Yosef. The striking similarity between the goals proclaimed by the First Zionist Congress in Basel, such as the normalization of Jewish life and the security of the Jewish people, and the goals for which King Saul was chosen, as stated in 1 Samuel 8:20—“That we will be like all the other nations: let our king rule over us and go out at our head and fight our battles”—was inescapable. Therefore, Rav Kook concluded that the religious community should support the explicitly non-religious Zionist movement because it was an integral part of the Messianic process. It was imperative to lay the foundation for the material development of the State of Israel, just as Saul built the ancient Jewish state despite his fraught relationship with the Prophet Samuel (1 Samuel 13:13-14), his inconsistent commitment to religious values, and even his deadly confrontation with the priests of Nob (1 Samuel 1:19). In the future, through our work and efforts, Mashiach ben David, a spiritual leader, would succeed and assume his role.

This religious interpretation of the non-religious social movement revolutionized Judaism. It was not immediately embraced even by religious supporters of Zionism, but gradually became the fundamental basis of Religious Zionism. This concept fueled the movement’s energy and propelled its achievements, especially the Jewish settlement of Judea, Samaria, and Gaza, which drastically changed the course of Israel’s development after 1974.

However, the passage of a century has shown that the concept, when perceived in its original form, no longer corresponds to reality and, therefore, requires refinement. Today, as we witness events unfolding, we can see additional details of the Messianic process that may not have been visible to our giant predecessors on whose shoulders we stand. These new nuances and refinements of the basic concept serve as the focus of this chapter. In doing so, we continue the centuries-old tradition of reevaluation of messianic concepts.[5]

2. The Three-Stage Messianic Process: Understanding Our Current Position in the Development of the State of Israel

Today, the first stage of the Messianic process—Mashiach ben Yosef—is nearing completion. The core objectives of Herzl’s political Zionism—the normalization and safeguarding of the Jewish people[6]—have been largely fulfilled. While these goals remain part of the ongoing responsibilities of the state, they no longer inspire passion or function as guiding aspirations. As such, they can no longer serve as the driving force behind the country’s continued development. This suggests that the mission of Mashiach ben Yosef is drawing to a close—he is, metaphorically, dying.[7]

But who can succeed Mashiach ben Yosef?

According to the two-stage model of the Messianic process, Mashiach ben Yosef is to be succeeded by Mashiach ben David. However, in the contemporary State of Israel, no social movement can be identified with Mashiach ben David in the way that Rav Kook, in 1904, identified Herzl’s Zionism with Mashiach ben Yosef.

How, then, do we define our contemporary era when Mashiach ben Yosef is on the verge of passing, yet there is no sign of an emerging Mashiach ben David? In other words, where do we stand today in the Messianic process?[8]

In response to this question, we propose a revision to a core tenet of Religious Zionism: moving from the traditional two-stage Messianic process model to a three-stage framework aligned with the three kings of biblical Israel—Saul, David, and Solomon. In this model, King Saul, from the tribe of Benjamin, the younger brother of Joseph, serves as the archetype of Mashiach ben Yosef, while King Solomon, the son of David, serves as the archetype of Mashiach ben David. This positions King David as the archetype of an intermediate “Mashiach ben Yehudah,” a designation we use to reflect his tribal lineage and to mark a distinct stage in the unfolding Messianic process.

To understand the characteristics of each stage, we must compare the defining governing principles of Saul, David, and Solomon and project them onto the history of the State of Israel.[9]

Each king—Saul, David, and Solomon—had a distinct rationale and unique interpretation of the meaning and purpose of his reign. Consequently, each had a different attitude toward the prophets and the Temple.

3. The Reign of Saul—Mashiach ben Yosef: Normalization and National Security

As we pointed out earlier, when the people of Israel asked the Prophet Samuel to appoint a king, their priorities were normalization and security: “That we may be like all the other nations: let our king rule over us and go out at our head and fight our battles” (1 Samuel 8:20). Saul’s actions were entirely consistent with these demands.

At the same time, spiritual pursuits were not his priority or were, at best, inconsistent. Adherence to the general Jewish tradition was important to Saul, especially the observance of the laws of kashrut (1 Samuel 14:33). His relationship with the Prophet Samuel, however, was complex. Saul felt it was important to appear before the people in the company of the prophet, as this act legitimized his royal status (1 Samuel 13:8, 15:30). Yet he did not obey the command to destroy the Amalekites. Nor did Saul attempt to restore the Ark of the Covenant, which had been abandoned at Kiriath-Jearim after being returned to the Israelites by the Philistines (1 Samuel 7:1). Matters such as the Temple were completely outside his sphere of interest.

These characteristics of Saul’s reign are reflected in modern Israel, where the secular state respects Judaism, complies with its basic tenets, and entrusts rabbis with key civil functions—including matters as critical as marriage, divorce, and the determination of Jewish identity.[10] It consistently includes religious authorities in national ceremonies and encourages adherence to tradition. On the political level, however, it disregards religious goals and takes no interest in the affairs of the Temple.

4. The Reign of David—Mashiach ben Yehuda: Spiritual Revival of the Nation

King David’s approach to religious matters stood in stark contrast to the ambivalence displayed by King Saul. This distinction was evident even before David’s encounter with Goliath. When confronted by the enemy, Saul’s army viewed the Philistines’ provocations as an attempt to “defy Israel,” referring primarily to the nation and its people (1 Samuel 17:25). David, however, perceived these insults as an affront to God Himself. Accordingly, he asked, “Who is this uncircumcised Philistine that he dares to defy the ranks of the living God?” (1 Samuel 17:26).

From King David’s perspective, the nation of Israel was, above all, a manifestation of Divine Providence. He believed that the life of the nation was inextricably linked to, and sustained by, God. Accordingly, during his reign, the spiritual renewal of the nation took precedence over material development.

King David paid close attention to the counsel and guidance of the Prophet Nathan, who did not hesitate to rebuke him when necessary. David ultimately returned the Ark of the Covenant to its rightful place in Jerusalem. Yet above all, he was deeply troubled that his capital lacked a proper “dwelling place” for God. Although he was eager to build the Temple, he was never commanded to undertake its construction.

God conveyed His message to David through the Prophet Nathan: “When your days are done, and you lie with your fathers, I will raise up your offspring after you, one of your own issues, and I will establish his kingship. He shall build a house for My name, and I will establish his throne forever” (2 Samuel 7:12). While the reason David was not permitted to build the Temple is not explicitly stated here, a fundamental difference between him and his successor ultimately led to the postponement of its construction until the next generation.

5. The Reign of Solomon—Mashiach ben David: A Universal Appeal to Humanity

By the time Solomon ascended the throne, the nation had already attained a degree of security and stability, largely thanks to the efforts of Saul and David. Substantial strides had also been made in the religious revitalization of the people. Solomon was not compelled to wage war during his reign; his era was characterized by peace.

Unlike David, whose focus was primarily on internal national concerns, Solomon adopted a more outward-looking perspective. He viewed his mission as extending faith in the Almighty and the teachings of the Torah to all humanity. To this end, he pursued a strategy that included numerous dynastic marriages and the formation of economic and political alliances.

As a result, Solomon was uniquely positioned to build the Temple—a sanctuary that would draw dignitaries from many nations and serve as a potent instrument for disseminating the belief in the One God.

Solomon made this mandate clear at the dedication of the Temple, including in his prayer a plea that God respond to the petitions of all nations: “If a foreigner who is not of Your people Israel comes from a distant land for the sake of Your name, for they shall hear about Your great name and Your mighty hand and Your outstretched arm — when he comes to pray toward this House, oh, hear in Your heavenly abode and grant all that the foreigner asks You for. Thus, all the peoples of the earth will know Your name and revere You, as does Your people Israel; and they will recognize that Your name is attached to this House that I have built” (1 Kings 8:41–43). A classic example of such influence is the visit of the Queen of Sheba, who traveled to meet King Solomon, witness the Temple, and learn about his religion (1 Kings 10). This encounter left a deep impression on the Queen and helped shape the spiritual legacy of her nation, forming the foundation of Ethiopia’s religious identity. While not every visit to Jerusalem had such lasting consequences, at that stage of human history, even basic exposure to Torah values represented a meaningful contribution to civilizational development.

The purpose of the Temple was not solely to serve as the center of the national religion, but also to represent the Almighty to the nations of the world. For this reason, the task of building the Temple was assigned not to David, but to Solomon. As David himself told Solomon, God had not permitted him to build the Temple because he had “shed much blood and fought great battles” (1 Chronicles 22:8). This statement not only alludes to the moral weight of wartime bloodshed, but also suggests that a condition of war impedes the dissemination of spiritual ideas, whereas peace creates the conditions in which such ideas can be shared and embraced.

During Solomon’s reign, the Jewish people had not yet fully internalized their universal mission, nor were the nations of the world prepared to receive the word of God. It would take centuries of prophetic teaching and the gradual moral and spiritual development of humanity for the Torah—albeit in transformed and partial forms—to begin spreading through Christianity and, later, Islam. Yet by that time, the Jewish people were already exiled from the Land and no longer positioned to lead this global endeavor.

Today, however, the global landscape has undergone a profound transformation. From their sovereign state in the Land of Israel, the Jewish people are now positioned to influence the world in a manner that aligns with the prophetic vision of the Tanakh—an opportunity that was unattainable during the long centuries of the Exile. At the same time, humanity has reached a stage of development in which it is increasingly receptive to this influence. Unlike three millennia ago, the global mission of the Jewish people is no longer a distant ideal but a tangible possibility.

6. Saul, David, and Solomon: A Comparative Analysis of the Royal Triad

As previously discussed, the ancient Jewish state progressed through three distinct stages of development. Each stage had its own agenda and set of objectives, which it pursued while building upon the achievements of its predecessor.

In the first phase, King Saul successfully defended Israel against its enemies and laid the foundations of statehood. In the second phase, King David revitalized the nation’s spiritual life by restoring the bond between the people and God. In the final phase, King Solomon assumed the national mission of advancing the idea of monotheism among the nations of the world.

During the first phase, the emerging nation had no need for a Temple, as its primary focus was survival and state-building. In the second phase, as part of a broader spiritual revival, David conceived the idea of a Temple, although its construction remained unrealized. It was only in the third phase that the Temple was built, serving as a symbol of the Divine Presence intended not only for Israel but also for the nations of the world.

Here is a snapshot of how the progression unfolds:

The king and the corresponding messianic stage The king’s priorities The king’s attitude toward the Temple
Saul—Mashiach ben Yoseph Normalization and security Ambivalent about the Temple
David—Mashiach ben Yehuda Spiritual revival and connection with God Eager to build the Temple, but neither the nation nor the king are ready
Solomon—Mashiach ben David Dissemination of Torah ideals among the nations Builds the Temple

Each stage of this process builds upon the foundation laid by the preceding one. King David ignited a spiritual renaissance in the nation, drawing upon the stable political and military framework established by King Saul. In turn, King Solomon fulfilled his mission of spreading the idea of the One God among the nations by leveraging the spiritual depth and internal strength fostered during David’s reign. Progressing from one stage to the next required a profound shift in the kingdom’s priorities and policies: from securing national survival, to cultivating spiritual vitality, to embracing a universal mission. Such sweeping transitions inevitably gave rise to tensions between the outgoing and incoming monarchs. Each king experienced a strained relationship with his successor, often showing reluctance to acknowledge or empower the next in line—and, at times, even acting in hostility. King Saul, for instance, sought to eliminate David.[11] Likewise, King David delayed naming Solomon his heir until the power struggle with Adonijah erupted, prompting decisive action only under pressure from Bathsheba and the Prophet Nathan. (We will return to the fascinating subject of royal succession and the dynamics of power transfer in section 12 of this chapter.)

7. David in Today’s Israel: Bridging Saul and Solomon

Building on our exploration of the Three Kings and the vision of Rav Kook, who linked the Zionism of his time to the Messianic process by identifying Herzl’s movement as Mashiach ben Yosef, we find a meaningful parallel between the chronicles of modern and ancient Jewish states. The two primary goals of Herzlian Zionism—the normalization and protection of the Jewish people—have been largely achieved in the modern State of Israel. Viewed through the lens of the ancient Jewish state and the Messianic timeline, this current stage signifies the completion of the first phase of redemption: the reign of King Saul, or Mashiach ben Yosef.

The next phase of the Messianic process calls for nurturing society’s spiritual and religious foundations, mirroring the historical epoch in ancient Israel when King David succeeded King Saul. Today, the Religious Zionist movement in Israel is leading this transition, leaving a profound imprint on Israeli society, from military service and government to business, academia, and the arts. In particular, the settlement movement, rooted in the ideology of Religious Zionism, stands as a unique and defining contribution.

There are striking historical parallels between the tensions involving Religious and political Zionists and the ancient conflict between the rising David and the weakening King Saul. Just as Saul feared that David would replace him and sought to destroy his successor, the old Zionist elite sought to discredit and dismantle the settlement movement. Just as Saul’s pursuit of David ultimately failed because of the Philistines’ attacks, the old Zionist elite’s attempts to suppress the settlement movement failed because of national security concerns over the Palestinian threat. Crucially, just as David honored Saul as the king of Israel, Religious Zionists honor the principles of Herzlian Zionism.

Now that we have identified the successor of Mashiach ben Yosef, we can answer the question posed in Section 2 regarding where we stand in the redemption process of the modern State of Israel: We are in the transition between its first and second phases, moving from the reign of Saul, Mashiach ben Yosef, exemplified by Theodor Herzl’s non-religious political Zionism, to the reign of David, Mashiach ben Yehuda, represented by Religious Zionism. This transitional phase is characterized by Israeli society’s growing recognition of Religious Zionist values and contributions, fostering a gradual strengthening of the nation’s religious identity.

The third phase—the reign of Solomon or the era of Mashiach ben David—lies in the future. It is our responsibility to pave the way for its arrival.

8. The Dual Mission of Religious Zionism: Present Realpolitik and Future Ideological Foundations

What should be our course of action during the current transition from the metaphorical reign of King Saul to that of King David?

In the early 20th century, Rav Kook exemplified a dual approach—engaging in the current realpolitik while laying the groundwork for future goals—providing a model for us to follow today. He appealed to religious Jews to support secular Zionism, pursuing the contemporary version of King Saul’s mission—normalizing and securing the nation. At the same time, envisioning the evolution of the Messianic process, Rav Kook was preparing for its next phase. In 1924, he founded The Central Universal Yeshiva (Mercaz haRav) in Jerusalem to train the next generation of leaders who would work toward the gradual transformation of the State of Israel from a place of refuge to the center of spiritual revitalization for the Jewish people.

A century has passed. Saul has fulfilled his historic mission and now yields to David, who is now part of the national establishment. In our time, this means carrying forward David’s practical statecraft while laying the spiritual groundwork for the emergence of Solomon. To meet this challenge, Religious Zionism must broaden its guiding principles and recalibrate its long-term vision, reorienting Judaism toward its universal mission and positioning it as a conduit of Divine influence for all humankind.

Accomplishing this monumental task requires a deeper understanding of the composition of the Jewish people and the dynamic relationships among its various factions.

9. Rav Kook’s Program for the Development of Judaism: Integrating the Values of the Three Factions within Jewry

In 1910, Rav Kook outlined a visionary roadmap for the long-term development of Judaism by identifying three major ideological factions within the Jewish people. The first was “the Orthodox, bearing the banner of holiness, arguing with strength, zeal, and bitterness for the Torah, the commandments, faith, and all that is holy in Israel.” The second was “the new nationalist, fighting for everything toward which the national tendency aspires.” The third was “the liberal, carrying the banner of enlightenment.”[12]

While many rabbinic leaders at the turn of the 20th century responded to the second and third ideological factions with condemnation, Rav Kook approached these “heretics” with profound empathy and insight. In his view, the nationalists and universalists had not turned away from tradition out of apathy, but out of a fervent commitment to national and universal ideals they could not find within the Judaism of their time. As Yehuda Mirsky observes, “Rav Kook came to see this heresy as not only something to be coped with but as revealing its own religious truth—a truly revolutionary proposition.”[13] The very domains that drew Jews away from tradition—Zionism and universalism—became, in Rav Kook’s eyes, the key to unlocking the unrealized dimensions of Orthodox Judaism. In response, he formulated a visionary program for the renewal of Judaism and the rebirth of the Jewish nation by synthesizing the sparks of truth found in all three factions: “It is clear that in a healthy state of being, all three forces must operate together. We must always strive to reach that state of wholeness, where these three forces—holiness, nationhood, and [universal] humanism—fully express themselves in harmony, each in its fullness and goodness. In such a balanced and corrected state, where nothing is lacking and nothing is in excess, they will bond together in noble, practical love. … Only in this way can we hope for a state of life worthy of one nation in its land.”[14]

The transformative nature of Rav Kook’s vision can scarcely be overstated. He not only acknowledged the spiritual legitimacy of the secular movements of his time[15] but called for their integration into the Orthodox tradition.[16] This approach stood in sharp contrast to that of virtually all other rabbinic leaders of the period—including those who supported Zionism—for whom such a stance would have seemed nothing short of sacrilegious. Nor did the adherents of the three ideological factions themselves envision such synthesis. And yet, a century later, we stand midway toward the fulfillment of Rav Kook’s vision: his followers have succeeded in fully incorporating the national ideals of Zionism into the religious framework. The universalist ideals, however, remain largely peripheral to Orthodox Judaism. This suggests that the next stage of this sweeping endeavor must focus on integrating the Divine sparks embedded in universal values into the very fabric of Jewish life and thought.

Historically, the Tanakh has served as a wellspring of universal values for humanity. Yet, as Rav Kook taught, in order to survive the harsh conditions of the Exile, Judaism was compelled to “contract itself,” transitioning from a state of gadlut (greatness) to one of katnut (smallness). This contraction involved setting aside both national values—such as sovereignty and statehood—and universal values, including engagement with global culture and intellectual life. For centuries, the active pursuit of national ideals would have amounted to utter destruction, as any attempt to reestablish a Jewish state in the Land of Israel would have met lethal opposition from the dominant power of the time that controlled it. Similarly, the pursuit of universal ideals risked drawing Jews—especially those with universalist aspirations—into the surrounding cultures, leading to assimilation and loss from the Jewish people. In response, a self-imposed ideological ghetto emerged, shielding Jewish life from the cultural currents of the outside world.

However, as the Jewish people return from exile, it becomes imperative to restore the inherent yet long-dormant universal dimension of Judaism—its return to a state of gadlut. Until this restoration is achieved, Jews who value universal ideals but do not find them reflected within Judaism will remain alienated from the religious tradition, thereby perpetuating the divide between the universalist and Religious Zionist camps. (A historical parallel can be drawn with the gap that existed a century ago between religious Jews and secular Zionists—a rift that Religious Zionism has since succeeded in bridging.) The integration of universal values into the theological framework of Religious Zionism—thereby forming what we call Universal Religious Zionism—can help overcome this divide and move us closer to the “reign of King Solomon,” the era of Mashiach ben David.

We interpret this historical and spiritual trajectory through the framework of the royal triad, which provides a conceptual lens for understanding both the unfolding history and the anticipated future of the State of Israel. In the first stage—“the reign of King Saul”—non-religious Zionism realized national ideals through the establishment of the Jewish state. In the second stage—“the reign of King David”—national and religious ideals became intertwined, giving rise to modern Religious Zionism. In the third stage—“the reign of King Solomon”—national-religious principles will be integrated with universal values, culminating in what we refer to, following Rav Kook’s terminology, as Universal Religious Zionism (to be explored in depth in Chapter II). This final stage represents the fulfillment of Rav Kook’s vision for the evolution of Judaism through the synthesis of all three foundational value systems.

Based on this model, we can articulate our guiding principles:

We are grateful to “Saul”—revolutionary political Zionism—for establishing the State of Israel. While this state may have its share of shortcomings (as all states do), its very existence and material strength is an unparalleled achievement.

We support “David”—the contemporary Religious Zionism and the settlement movement—by promoting national religious values, participating in all facets of the State of Israel, and aligning it with the ideals of Jewish tradition.

We pave the way for “Solomon”—the emerging Universal Religious Zionism—by integrating Torah-inherent universal values into the framework of a modernized Religious Zionism and establishing it as a relevant voice on the global stage.

10. Building on Past Successes: Meeting the Challenge of Harmonizing Universal Values with Jewish Tradition in the Modern Era

The time has come for Religious Zionism to recognize the religious significance of “secular life” and to embrace its universal values. As noted above, this represents the central mission of Universal Religious Zionism: to complete the integration of religious, national, and universal values within a single, coherent Orthodox framework.

At the same time, universal values should not be adopted wholesale in their secular, “non-kosher” form. Instead, we must proceed with discernment, integrating only those Divine sparks that can be separated from the ideological shells of modern “isms.” Rav Kook’s methodology—harmonizing universal values with the foundations of Jewish tradition—offers a framework for doing so without compromising the core national and Orthodox commitments that define Religious Zionism.

This is no simple task. A century ago, many leading Orthodox rabbis insisted that there was neither a need nor a legitimate path for Judaism to embrace national Zionist ideals. Yet in our time, these very ideals coexist harmoniously within mainstream Religious Zionism, which has become a central force in Israel’s ideological landscape.

Today, only a fraction of Religious Zionists are actively engaged in this transformative process. A historical parallel can be drawn to a century ago, when the Orthodox world was split between relatively small pro-Zionist and anti-Zionist factions, alongside a largely ambivalent majority with no definitive stance.A historical parallel can be drawn to a century ago, when the Orthodox world was divided into a small group of pro-Zionists, a relatively marginal anti-Zionist faction, and a largely ambivalent majority without a definitive stance. Contemporary Religious Zionism reflects a similar internal fragmentation, comprising Haredi Zionists (Hardal), Modernists, and Centrists. Despite these divisions, the Modernist faction today wields considerable influence and commands a significant following, much like the Zionist minority within Orthodoxy in the early 20th century. It is this Modernist group that is best positioned to serve as the primary conduit for the ideas of Universal Religious Zionism in the decades ahead. They are uniquely placed to lead this effort and help fulfill Judaism’s redemptive mission, when “Torah shall come forth from Zion, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem” (Isaiah 2:3).

During the centuries of the Exile, the Jewish people existed in a survival mode, akin to the “dry bones” in Ezekiel’s vision. Judaism became exclusively intranational, insulating Jews from the outside world. As a result, the Gentile world exerted minimal influence on Judaism, and Judaism had even less impact on the Gentile world. However, as the Jewish national body is revived in modern Israel and God “causes breath to enter the body” (Ezekiel 37:5), this breath will come “from the four winds” (Ezekiel 37:9), symbolizing the influx of positive influences from around the world.

11. Longing for the Temple: Sacred Aspirations and National Priorities

The construction of the Temple was not a national priority during the reign of King Saul. Similarly, in the 20th century, during the ascendancy of secular Zionism, the idea of the Temple held little significance in Israeli public consciousness. Even after the now-iconic declaration by Motta Gur—“Har HaBayit be-yadenu” (“The Temple Mount is in our hands”)—broadcast on IDF radio and reverberating around the world on June 7, 1967, Defense Minister Moshe Dayan downplayed the significance of the site, famously likening it dismissively to the Vatican. At the same time, the Chief Rabbinate issued a halachic ruling prohibiting ascent to the Temple Mount to prevent its inadvertent desecration. Thus, for entirely different reasons, both secular and religious Israel kept their distance from the holiest site in Judaism—and, in a metaphysical sense, from the Temple.

During King David’s reign, the Temple was conceived as a national vision, but it was not built because King David and the nation were not yet prepared for the task. Similarly, we have recently seen a growing interest in visiting the Temple Mount within Israeli society. Numerous religious scholars have joined the small but rapidly expanding group of rabbinic authorities who support ascending to and praying on the Temple Mount.

However, in our days of the emerging “era of David,” the building of the Temple remains beyond our reach.[17] Like King David, our generation must accept that the Temple can only be built during the “reign of King Solomon” in the impending era of Mashiach ben David. Nevertheless, we must actively prepare ourselves to undertake this monumental endeavor.

This preparation includes practical activities such as Jewish pilgrimage and prayers on the Temple Mount. But these actions alone are not sufficient. The fundamental question lies in understanding the Temple’s meaning and primary purpose. Yet, most religious Jews struggle to articulate what has been missing in Judaism that the Temple would fulfill after two thousand years of absence. Simply put, why do we need the Temple today?

The Temple is not meant to be built solely to serve internal Jewish needs. To build the Temple, we must acknowledge its role as a beacon of Divine Light for all nations and as the nexus of humanity’s relationship with God. Just as in Solomon’s time, the focus should be not only on the Temple as a spectacular building that houses the rituals, but also on the universal message of Solomon’s reign to the world that the Temple symbolizes.[18]

In our time of the depersonalized Messianic process, the future King Solomon—Mashiach ben David—represents a state of the Jewish nation where the State of Israel will be a source of Divine Light for humanity. Once this level is reached, the seemingly insurmountable challenges of building the Temple will be reduced to technical issues and resolved accordingly. This shift will occur because the nations will become genuinely interested in the Temple, which will symbolize their recognition of the universal spiritual significance of the State of Israel.[19]

12. From Saul to David vs. from David to Solomon: Bitter Succession vs. Cautious Handover

As we venture into the uncharted waters of the Messianic era, it is instructive to return to the royal triad—the biblical archetypes of the State of Israel. Particularly significant is the profound contrast between the transition of power from Saul to David and that from David to Solomon.

Saul, the founder and protector of the nation-state, and David, the champion of a national religious ideal, hailed from different tribes of Israel—both literally and figuratively. In parallel, Religious Zionism did not arise from secular Zionism; the movement is firmly rooted in Judaism. In our metaphorical framework, it originates from a different “tribe” within modern Israel. David’s marriage to Saul’s daughter marked his formal bond with the royal house. Similarly, Religious Zionism establishes its place by embracing the national ideals revitalized by secular, Herzlian Zionism—metaphorically, by marrying Zionism, the daughter of Herzl. The transition from Saul to David was fraught with internal conflict, held in check only by existential external threats to the kingdom. Likewise, while Religious Zionists fully support the state established by Herzl’s vision, they remain in deep ideological conflict with his successors—a tension manifested in disputes over the Oslo Accords, the Disengagement, settlement policy, military doctrine, and other core issues confronting the State of Israel. And just as in ancient Israel, these internal divisions are prevented from spiraling out of control by external adversaries who, time and again, “never fail to unite the Jewish people.”

In stark contrast, Solomon was David’s son in both body and spirit—the continuity of the House of David was secured through spiritual as well as biological lineage. Solomon’s universal religiosity was firmly grounded in David’s national religiosity. Yet despite this continuity, the two figures were markedly different, and the transfer of leadership was far from a mere formality. Although David recognized Solomon as his rightful heir, he hesitated to publicly formalize the succession. This ambiguity emboldened Adonijah, another of David’s sons, to attempt a power grab. Only the intervention of the Prophet Nathan and Bathsheba ensured Solomon’s ultimate accession to the throne. (One can hardly fault David for his hesitation—grand designs are often veiled in divine intrigue.) In other words, whereas Saul had to be restrained from launching an all-out war against David, David had to be urged to take deliberate steps to ensure a peaceful transition to Solomon.

When projected onto the modern State of Israel, this biblical “game of thrones” suggests that the evolution of Religious Zionism into its universal form will not unfold spontaneously. Religious Zionism is ripe for this next stage of development, as universal values have gained increasing acceptance within its modernist wing. However, these values are often regarded as secular—pragmatically beneficial, yet not intrinsically tied to Judaism. Just as King David delayed the preparation for Solomon’s reign, the contemporary David hesitates to embrace universalization, held back by ideological constructs—the shells of modern “isms”—that, though animated by Divine sparks, distort their original meaning. The task of Universal Religious Zionism is to confront and transcend these obstacles, thereby preparing the way for the emergence of Solomon.

This will be the subject of the next two chapters.

[1] Following the catastrophic defeat of the Bar Kochba revolt, the sages, seeking to prevent further resistance against Rome that might endanger the survival of the Jewish people, reoriented messianic expectations away from human action within history and toward a redemptive intervention at the End of Days. As influential as this concept was, it never completely supplanted the idea of “historical mashiach.”

[2] The two scenarios of the coming of Mashiach—“the swift and the sluggish”—are discussed in the Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin, 98a, but from a different perspective.

[3] Babylonian Talmud, Sukkah, 52a.

[4] In all cases, when we mention the teachings of the Vilna Gaon on the Messianic process, we are referring to the book Kol haTor. This book was published in the 20th century by the descendants of the Gaon’s disciples and, according to their tradition, reflects the Gaon’s messianic vision. There are alternative opinions regarding the authenticity of this book in relation to the teachings of the Vilna Gaon, but this controversy is beyond our scope.

[5] By placing the Messianic process at the center of our discourse, we recognize that “messianism” is fraught with controversies and raises concerns in some respected Modern Orthodox circles—concerns that are sometimes justified by historical and contemporary excesses. For Rav Kook, however, the Messianic process was an ongoing historical reality, and we follow in his footsteps in treating this sensitive topic with the utmost responsibility.

[6] As tragic and costly as Israel’s wars have been and continue to be, we do not view them as an existential threat to the Jewish state.

[7] Despite being mentioned as “killed” (Sukkah, 52a), the death of Mashiach ben Yosef is not necessarily foreordained; rather, it serves as a warning. Drawing on the Zohar and the interpretation of Psalm 118, the Vilna Gaon asserted that Mashiach ben Yosef would undergo trials and tribulations yet ultimately live. (This perspective comes to us through Rabbi Efraim Palvanov’s lecture series on Mashiach ben Yosef.) In our context, the death of Mashiach ben Yosef does not necessarily signify a violent physical destruction, but rather a spiritual winding down and the loss of a leadership role.

[8] This question is not merely theoretical as understanding the trajectory of the State of Israel’s development and our role in it profoundly affects the course of action we choose. The absence of an answer to this question is at the core of Religious Zionism’s ideological crisis. The impatient reader may skip to Section 7 of this chapter for the answer, but following the logical progression of the preceding sections will enhance understanding of the conclusion.

[9] By designating the stages of the Messianic process as “Saul, David, and Solomon” and projecting this royal triad onto the contemporary State of Israel, we are certainly not suggesting that these kings should serve as models for imitation. Such an approach would be both practically unfeasible and ideologically fruitless, as would any attempt to return to the past. Rather, we use these Biblical figures as archetypes reflected in modern Jewish history. Analyzing these archetypes as they appear in the present offers a new perspective on the historical continuum of the State of Israel, in keeping with the enduring principle: The deeds of the fathers are signs for the sons.

[10] Notably, responsibility for these functions was not wrestled from the state by the religious camp, but was granted to religious authorities from the very founding of the State of Israel—reflecting a shared commitment to preserving its Jewish identity.

[11] The conflict between Saul and David was not motivated by personal ambition, for David was loyal to Saul and the king knew it. The real issue was the future of the dynasty. That is why King Saul was angry with his son Jonathan, who was willing to give the throne to David. King Saul told his servants: “He said to them, “Listen, men of Benjamin! Will the son of Jesse give you all fields and vineyards? Will he make all of you captains of thousands and captains of hundreds?” (1 Samuel 22:7). This is more than a personal conflict; it is a conflict between different groups and strata of society, possibly even tribes, representing different ideologies.

[12] Shmonah Kvatzim, 3:2. Rav Kook’s definitions of three factions and descriptions of their essence remain strikingly relevant today.

[13] Mirsky, Yehuda. Towards the Mystical Experience of Modernity. The Making of Rav Kook, 1865-1904. Academic Studies Press, 2021, p. 279.

[14] Shmonah Kvatzim, 3:2.

[15] See the aforementioned Towards the Mystical Experience of Modernity, p. 280, regarding Rav Kook’s treatise in defense of non-religious camps, in which he argues that their ideals are not merely compatible with Jewish teachings, but, in fact, represent the fruition of Judaism.

[16] Rav Kook was keenly aware of the antagonism between the camps: “Each bearer of a particular force is consumed with fiery energy directed only toward denying the value of the others, which he refuses to recognize.” (Shmonah Kvatzim, 3:1). Yet, Rav Kook viewed these seemingly irreconcilable contradictions as instruments for eventual symbiosis: “One will understand that for the benefit of the specific force to which one is more inclined, it must also be influenced to some degree by the opposing force that negates one’s cherished force. This negation establishes it in its proper measure, safeguarding it from the perilous flaw of excess and exaggeration.” (Ibid., 3:2).

[17] While rebuilding the Temple is not our generation’s task, the excavation of the City of David—the original ancient Jerusalem, just a stone’s throw from the Temple Mount—along with the Pilgrimage Road leading to the Temple, is progressing at an unprecedented scale and pace. The significance of this project extends far beyond archaeology; it stands as a symbol of King David’s modern era. In the words of Elie Wiesel, “The City of David is the beginning of a new chapter of Jewish history, one in which Jewish life returns to the State of Israel.” (Spielman, Doron. When the Stones Speak. Center Street, 2025, p. 65)

[18] Whether the service in the Third Temple will fully resemble that of the First and Second Temples—and, among other questions, whether animal sacrifices will be replaced by plant-based offerings—is a fascinating philosophical and halakhic discussion that will be explored in the course of the development of the Universal Religious Zionism project.

[19] The State of Israel’s global spiritual role at its Solomonic stage will be articulated in the next phase of this project.

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