As we approach Passover, the Haftarah for Shabbat HaGadol brings us one of the most intriguing lines in the entire biblical prophecy segment. Malachi, the last of the prophets, foresees a future moment—heralded by Elijah—when minchah offerings in a restored Temple will once again be “pleasing to the Eternal, as in days of old, as in years long past” (3:4).

But what exactly is Malachi imagining? A return to the animal‑sacrifices system of the First Temple? Or something far more ancient —and far more aligned with the Bible’s earliest reality of human‑animal relations?

The Traditional Reading—and Its Tension

Classical commentators such as Ibn Ezra and the Abarbanel assume Malachi is predicting the restoration of the sacrificial cult. Abarbanel even pushes the timeline back to the wilderness Tabernacle, when Israel supposedly offered sacrifices during its desert wanderings. But Jeremiah flatly contradicts this assumption. He reminds his people that during those very years, God “did not speak… nor command them concerning burnt offerings or sacrifices” (7:22). In other words: no divinely mandated animal sacrifices took place in the wilderness at all. So what “days of old” is Malachi talking about?

Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi’s Surprising Interpretation

“Rabbi” (Yehudah HaNasi) offers a striking answer: the “days of old” refer to Noah, and the “years long past” to Abel. Since God accepted Abel’s minchah and later “smelled the sweet savor” of Noah’s offering, Malachi must be pointing back to those ancient moments of divine favor. This reading assumes something crucial: that God desired animal offerings in those early stories. But does the text actually say that?

What the Bible Doesn’t Say?

In my new book, Taming the Beast: Human–Animal Encounters in the Bible (Wipf and Stock), I argue that neither Abel’s nor Noah’s offerings reflect divine approval of animal slaughter. Take Abel. The Torah uses the word minchah—a voluntary gift—for both Cain’s produce and Abel’s animals. Indeed, nothing in the text suggests Abel slaughtered them. There is no altar, no fire, no smoke, no scent, no entering into a covenant. The simplest reading is that Abel dedicated select animals to God by setting them apart and spared from human utilization, but not by killing them.

Noah’s case is even more telling. He is the first human in the Bible to build an altar and slaughter animals. But the text never says God was pleased. The “nihoach” scent is present (whatever it actually meant in real time), but God’s actual response is not approval—it is lament: “the inclination of the human heart is evil from its youth” (Gen 8:21). Hardly a divine endorsement of (the unsavory) burnt flesh, skin and feathers that the incorporeal God “smelled”…

So, What Did Malachi Mean?

If Malachi is indeed invoking the eras of Abel and Noah, his use of minchah may point to something very different from animal sacrifice:

– Abel’s era: a time when animals were not slain. Period.

– Noah’s (post-flood) era: a moment when God effectively rejected the act of slaugthering those sacrificial animals by offering neither praise nor approval at all.

In this light, Malachi’s prophecy may be less about reviving ancient slaughter and more about returning to a purer, bloodless form of offering.

A Vision for the Future

Rav Kook’s ascetic disciple, Rabbi David HaKohen, once suggested that the long delay in rebuilding the Third Temple is itself a heavenly sign (sourced in Taming the Beast).  Namely, humanity is not meant to return to serve God through killing animals.

His insight echoes the psalmist’s timeless declaration:

“I will praise God’s name in song and exalt Him with thanksgiving.

And this will please the Lord more than an ox, more than a bullock with horns and hooves.”

It seems that Malachi’s minchah of the future is in fact a return to the Bible’s earliest, most elevated past of the first ten generations when God was served without shedding animal blood; an idea that is vividly described in Isaiah’s vision of the days to come (of Chapter 11).

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)