Jesus Didn’t Wear a Kippah—and Neither Should You

It is good and virtuous for Christians to want to live out their faith in a biblical and historically accurate way. But sometimes it’s not always clear what this looks like.

Unfortunately, many Christians—especially in the non-denominational world—are unfamiliar with historical practices of past Christians, generally motivated by a desire to be “authentic” and not appear too “catholic.”

In the absence of an understanding of Christian history, it can be tempting to look to contemporary Jewish traditions. After all, Jesus was Jewish—so it’d make sense to look to the Jewish community to establish acceptable biblical practices from the first century.

However, you might be surprised to learn that almost every aspect of modern Judaism was invented centuries—sometimes millennia—after the ministry of Jesus. In the wake of rabbinic Judaism’s rejection of Jesus—the central figure of the Hebrew Scriptures—and the destruction of the second temple—prophesied by Jesus as a judgment for their rejection of God—the non-Christian followers of Judaism shifted their interpretive lens and practices to accommodate life without a temple and without a hope in the Messiah.

Many practices—including how the calendar worked, what foods were permissible to eat, how to interpret the prophecies of Isaiah, why lamb should no longer be eaten on Passover, how to greet one another, how and when to celebrate biblical holidays, and what to wear—were created long after the first century, and oftentimes were in contradiction to the teachings of scripture.

This is fine for practitioners of Rabbinic/Talmudic/Modern Judaism—after all, they have a right to practice their beliefs as they see fit and allow their traditions to evolve over time—but Christians should use caution in appropriating many of these modern traditions, as they are foreign to Jesus and the scriptures—and sometimes were embraced as a rejection of Jesus.

A prime example of this is the kippah—a dome-shaped skullcap worn by orthodox Jews and sometimes known as a yarmulke.

The kippah is nowhere to be found in either testament of the Bible, and no first century Jew would have ever seen one before. While there isn’t a biblical imperative to wear a hat as part of your religious practice, there is a command to do just the opposite:

Every man praying or prophesying, having his head covered, dishonors his head… for a man indeed ought not to cover his head, since he is the image and glory of God” (1 Corinthians 11:4, 7).

Written around 55 AD, this command by Paul is certainly not a direct criticism of the kippahkippahs would not exist for another thousand years. But Paul does suggest that while participating in church practices, it was considered dishonorable for a man to cover his head, and that a man “ought not” to do this. He also gives a reason: because man is made in the image and glory of God.

This is the only mention of head coverings found in the scriptures, and the admonition is that men should not wear them.

So if not from the scriptures, how did this practice develop in the Christ-rejecting Jewish community?

As previously stated, the Jewish practice of wearing a head covering did not exist in the first century. Neither the writings of Philo—a faithful Jew who lived during the first century—nor Josephus—a Jewish historian writing at the end of the first century—make mention of this practice. It also does not appear in the Mishnah—the first major collection of Jewish oral traditions, compiled around 200 AD.

The Gemara (6th century) makes a few brief references to head coverings—a rabbi who would ravenously steal food with his bare teeth if a cloak fell off his head, in accordance with the prophecies of a Babylonian astrologer (Shabbat 156b); and a comparison between two rabbis, one who stared at the ground while walking and another who covered his head with a cloak (Kiddushin 31a)—but these are limited to specific (and bizarre) practices of two individuals, not any sort of standard practice.

Two centuries later, the Soferim (8-9th centuries) record debates over whether the Shema and the Divine Name could be uttered by individuals with ripped clothing, uncovered heads, or blind men—with some saying it’s permissible and others stressing caution. The next mention of head coverings within the Jewish community comes almost 800 years later. The Shulchan Arukh, written by Rabbi Joseph Karo in 1565, records that debates were still taking place concerning head coverings: “There are those who say that it is forbidden to mention God’s name with an uncovered head, and there are those who say that one should object that people should not enter the synagogue with an uncovered head” (Shulchan Arukh, Orach Chayim 91).

Over 1,500 years after the resurrection, the Jewish community who had parted from the teachings of Jesus had still not agreed upon the practice of head coverings. So when was this tradition finalized?

It came 81 years later in Poland, when David HaLevi—considered one of Europe’s greatest and most influential rabbinical authorities—published his commentary on the aforementioned Shulchan Arukh in 1646. He wrote that, while it had not previously been a requirement to cover one’s head, he believed that from henceforth it should be considered mandatory. Why?

It has become a custom among the Akum [Christians] that they do this—immediately, as soon as they sit, they remove their hats—it therefore falls under the category of ‘do not walk in their statutes’” (Turei Zahav on Shulchan Arukh, Orach Chayim 8.3).

The Potomac Torah Study Center, a Jewish educational organization, states that this ruling was made in response to “one of the prominent customs of the Christian church, based on verses in 1 Corinthians 11,” and that “as a result of this ruling, wearing a Kippah quickly became adopted by all Jews in Eastern Europe as standard practice, and remains in force today” (Volume 10, Issue 20).

Why did the Jewish community implement the standard practice of wearing the kippah? A driving factor was that Jews should cover their heads because Christians uncover their heads in accordance with their scriptures. In other words, it was implemented to distance themselves from the followers of Jesus and the teachings of the New Testament!

Again, my purpose isn’t to condemn the Jewish community for wearing kippahs. After all, they don’t worship Jesus and don’t believe the New Testament scriptures are authoritative—of course they would want to do their own thing. But it is undeniable that the kippah and any related head coverings were foreign to the biblical people of God. The practice developed over a thousand years after the resurrection of Jesus, and was mainstreamed by a community for the specific purpose of rejecting the people of Jesus and the teachings of Jesus.

As the people of Jesus Christ, we won’t find a historically accurate expression of our faith in the traditions of Rabbinic/Talmudic/Modern Judaism. Oftentimes, we’ll find the exact opposite—traditions that reject Jesus and lead us away from Him.

We don’t need to look to other religions—especially religions who have denied Jesus and the scriptures He gave us—to find an accurate portrayal of our Christian faith. We need only look to the Scriptures—both Old and New Testaments. The Triune God has sustained His people for over two thousand years. We don’t need to dip our toes into a Christ-less well for direction.

Jesus, the Maccabees, and Hanukkah

In the middle of the second century BC, things were not looking good for God’s people: They had been under Greco-Syrian occupation for over a hundred years; the priesthood had corrupted itself and was in the pocket of their pagan overlords; King Antiochus had demanded that the Jews stop serving Yahweh; and just about all of Israel decided to go along with it.

    Then on the 25th of Kislev in the year 167 BC, Antiochus declared that he was God, and marching into Jerusalem He set up the abomination of desolation—a pagan idol of Zeus—right in the middle of the temple.

    One family—led by Mattathias and his five sons Judah, Simon, John, Eleazar, and Jonathan—put a stop to this. They fled to the mountains, regrouped, and then began fighting. Not only did they stand against Antiochus and the Greeks—they stood against their kinsmen who had abandoned Yahweh in hopes of riches and political power.

    And after three years of fighting, on the 25th of Kislev in the year 164 BC (the day celebrated as Hanukkah—“Dedication”), they recaptured Jerusalem. They marched back into the temple, tore down every abomination that had been raised, and rededicated the temple and nation to the one true God. As the war continued, almost every member of the Maccabean family was killed in the war or assassinated—with the exception of John, who died of natural causes.

    And after seven years of war, the battle was won, the enemy was driven out, and the faithful remnant began rebuilding.

    Just under two hundred years later, we read a New Testament story about Hanukkah. On the 25th of Kislev, Jesus declared that He was God and marched into the temple (John 10:22-30). The Jews were outraged and tried to have Him killed (v. 31).

    So… what’s going on here?

    The Jews in the temple were acting like it was “167 BC” repeating itself. They acted like Jesus was a false king, a false god, an idol being set up in the temple. They acted like they were the Maccabees, fighting against Antiochus and the pagans.

    But that wasn’t what was actually happening, and they knew it.

    The Jews in the temple had already corrupted themselves years before. Under the occupation of Rome, the priesthood had abandoned God’s ways and partnered with the Romans in exchange for riches and power. They had steered the Jewish community away from God’s Word through their pagan traditions. They had desecrated the temple by exulting a false Yahweh made in their own image. In other words, the Jewish leaders weren’t the Maccabees—they were the paganized Jews who had sold out to Antiochus!

    And John 10 wasn’t repeating 167 BC—it was repeating 164 BC.

    After three years of ministry, Jesus and His disciples—half of whom were named after the Maccabees—had reached the temple on Hanukkah. They triumphantly marched in and declared Jesus was Yahweh—the one true God—tearing down the false caricature the rabbis had built up for all Israel to see.

    The story didn’t end there. The corrupt Jewish leaders doubled down on their alliance with Rome and spent the next forty years persecuting the followers of Jesus. Every disciple of Jesus was eventually murdered—with the exception of John, who died of natural causes.

    Eventually Rome turned on the leaders in Judea who had perverted God’s Word and led so many astray. After seven years of tribulation, those false leaders were slaughtered in 70 AD and Jerusalem was destroyed—an event Jesus described as another “abomination of desolation” in the temple.

    But just like the Maccabees, the faithful remnant survived. Heeding Jesus’ warning (Matthew 24:15-16), they had fled to the mountains—just like the Maccabees. And after the temple was destroyed and the corrupt leaders were defeated, they began rebuilding.

    Today there are 2.3 billion Christians around the world. We are here because two thousand years ago, a faithful remnant of Christ-followers refused to surrender. They refused to lose hope. Instead, in the spirit of the Maccabees they dedicated themselves to the Lord, fought for what was good and right and true, and committed their lives to rebuilding.

    And we have the same commission—to fight the good fight, to occupy until Jesus returns, to disciple all nations, and to take dominion over all the earth.

    Don’t lose hope. The battle is the Lord’s.