If You Build It, He Will Come

Message info over a photo of a corn field

For the week of March 16, 2024 / 6 Adar II 5784
Pekudei
Torah: Shemot/Exodus 38:21 – 40:38
Haftarah: 1 Kings 7:40-50
Originally posted the week of February 1, 2014 / 1 Adar 5774 (revised)

Then the cloud covered the tent of meeting, and the glory of the LORD filled the tabernacle. (Shemot/Exodus 40:34)

A major component of the Torah is the instructions God gave Moses for the building of the Mishkan (English: Tabernacle), the large and elaborate, yet mobile structure designed for the offering of sacrifice. It was the precursor of the permanent Temple first built many centuries later under King Solomon, David’s son.

In the 1989 film “Field of Dreams,” Kevin Costner plays Ray Kinsella, a novice farmer who hears a voice, saying “If you build it, he will come.” He believes that if he tears down his corn field and builds a baseball diamond, then a disgraced player from the distant past by the name of Shoeless Joe will come back. Ray does it, and not only does Shoeless Joe return but several other ball players as well. However, neither Joe nor any of these players is the one of whom the voice spoke. I won’t tell you who it is in case you haven’t seen the film. The point is Ray built “it,” and “he” did come.

While not a direct quote, God basically told Moses, “If you build it, I will come!” Field of Dreams is a fantasy. The Mishkan is real. It was essential that Moses followed God’s instructions carefully, because God wanted to live there. Moses built it (meaning it was built under his supervision) and God really came (see Shemot / Exodus 40:16-38).

We learn from the construction details of the Mishkan that God is very particular about where he lives. God is not into “it’s the thought that counts” or “as long as your heart is in the right place.” In fact, the Bible teaches that no one’s heart is in the right place (e.g. Jeremiah 17:9). That’s why we need to come to God on his terms alone. If the people of Israel didn’t follow God’s instructions, he would not dwell in the Mishkan. But they did, and he did.

One of the things that makes the design of the Mishkan so special is that it is patterned after God’s heavenly dwelling (see Hebrews 8 – 9). Exactly how the earthly version parallels the heavenly one, I don’t know; but it does. One way may be how the various items inside the Mishkan, especially the two-room sanctuary, the Holy Place and the Most Holy Place express God’s truth. The Ark of the Covenant speaks of the presence, mercy, and loyalty of God; the lampstand, his light; the table of bread, his provision; the incense altar, prayer. It would be difficult to overemphasize the importance of these items. They are not simply ritualistic elements but speak of how life is really meant to be lived, the most important of all being our need for the very presence of God, which is the main purpose of the Mishkan: If you build it, he will come.

The Mishkan shows us that God came, but. We see this through the existence of a curtain that divided the two special rooms. Only the cohanim (English: the priests) could serve in the Holy Place, which they did on a daily basis. But the Most Holy Place, which represented the presence of God, could not be accessed except once a year on Yom Kippur (English: Day of Atonement), and then only by the Cohen HaGadol (English: the High Priest). This arrangement was designed intentionally to demonstrate to the people of Israel that full access to God was not available. If you build it, he will come; but don’t get too close!

Could you imagine having someone living with you who stayed behind closed doors all the time? Your very existence and identity is wrapped up in that person, but you could never get near to them. It’s not that the person doesn’t want to see you or have relationship with you. It’s that there’s actually something about you that is keeping the other person from getting close.

The people of Israel needed to learn that their sin, like the curtain, erected a barrier between them and God. Sin is that principle of life that twists human nature into something substandard, lacking the spiritual and moral qualities God requires. The sacrificial system addressed the sin problem, but never resolved it. Not resolved until the sacrifice of all sacrifices, that is. When Yeshua died, the dividing curtain tore in two (see Matthew 27:51). It’s as if his sacrificial death kicked down the door that kept us from God. The Mishkan reminds us that God’s desire is to dwell with his people. Now with the coming of Yeshua, he is both with us and accessible.

All scriptures, English Standard Version (ESV) of the Bible

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Toward a Biblical Understanding of Fund Raising

For the week of March 9, 2024 / 29 Adar 5784

Message information over a Bible and a fundraising motif

Vayakhel & Shekalim
Torah: Shemot/Exodus 35:1 – 38:20; 30:11-16
Haftarah: 2 Kings 12:1-17 (English: 11:21 – 12:16)
Originally posted the week of March 5, 2016 / 25 Adar 5776 (revised)

Moses said to all the congregation of the people of Israel, “This is the thing that the LORD has commanded. Take from among you a contribution to the LORD. Whoever is of a generous heart, let him bring the LORD’s contribution…” (Shemot/Exodus 35:4-5)

I was brought up with an unhealthy relationship to money. It was the subject that my parents seemed to constantly bicker about. My father taught me that “money made the world go round,” something he firmly believed. As I grew up I regularly was told that we couldn’t do this and we couldn’t do that, because of the money. Not long after my parents divorced in my mid-teens, my mother and I were on welfare. We had a nice enough place to live and we didn’t starve, but the thought of not having enough was always with us, and it got to me. Our poverty was likely a key aspect in the panic attacks that eventually led me to know Yeshua.

Coming to know the Messiah   and reading the Bible radically transformed my thinking in many areas, including money. The most mind-blowing concept was that I was no longer alone with regard to material provision. According to Yeshua, I had a Heavenly Father who was committed to taking care of my needs (see Matthew 6:25-34). So, instead of every future hope of mine being stamped with a big and bold red “CAN’T” on it, I had a funding resource beyond my wildest dreams. I am not saying that I expected God to give me whatever I wanted, but as I have sought him for everything from education to marriage (which would eventually include 10 kids!), houses, cars, travel, and so on, he has provided for me and my family in so many surprising ways.

I am so grateful that the first community of believers I was involved with after coming to faith highly valued the Messiah’s teaching on God’s provision. Unlike some groups, their understanding regarding the relationship between faith and finances led them to rarely, if ever, talk about money. The idea was that since God promised to provide for our needs, then it would be dishonoring to him to ask people to give. This approach was firmly rooted in people such as George Müller, who was famous for founding orphanages and schools in England in the 19th century. As far we know, Müller never made a private or public request for funds, except to God alone in prayer. His story and the example of my community at the time led me to believe that this was the only way to be a genuine person of faith. To ask anyone for money was regarded as putting my trust in people, not God, thus undermining Yeshua’s teaching on God’s generosity toward his children.

As I mentioned, I have innumerable examples of God’s provision, but my commitment to keep my needs to myself at times became more than I could handle. Years ago, we sought to establish a ministry. We were affiliated with a group of believers but were basically on our own in terms of support. When little by way of finances came in, I had a difficult time of it. I regret to say that this was one of the factors for leaving the work I was doing. Based on my conviction, I concluded that I was at fault for not trusting God.

That was about thirty-two years ago. When I considered stepping back into fulltime Bible teaching ministry in 2012, I wondered how I was going to handle the trust factor. It’s only been since then that I have been challenged to rethink how fund raising is supposed to work. It has taken a long time to accept that the George Müller method was not actually biblical after all. The Bible doesn’t teach it’s wrong to ask for money. Look at this week’s Torah portion, for example. God instructed Moses to ask for contributions for the building of the Mishkan (English: Tabernacle). While there are right and wrong ways to raise funds, being open and honest about the need to fund ministry is godly.

I have come to realize that my difficulty with asking people to fund my ministry is not derived from the Bible, but rather due to deep-seated values that I somehow inherited that makes me feel ashamed for being a “charity case.” But why should it be acceptable to trade money for temporal goods, but shameful to invite people to invest in something that will bring eternal benefits? People fund all sorts of legitimate (and not-so legitimate) activities. What’s wrong with funding the work of God’s Kingdom? We have no problem with someone hawking their wares at the side of the road. Why then are we put out when someone seeks raise money for ministry? You can always say, “No.”

All scriptures, English Standard Version (ESV) of the Bible

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Flip Flop

For the week of March 2, 2024 / 22 Adar 5784

Message info over a word map depicting uncertainty

Ki Tissa
Torah: Shemot/Exodus 30:11 – 34:35
Haftarah: 1 Melachim/1 Kings 18:1-39
Originally posted the week of February 27, 2016 / 18 Adar 5776

And Elijah came near to all the people and said, “How long will you go limping between two different opinions? If the LORD is God, follow him; but if Baal, then follow him.” And the people did not answer him a word. (1 Melachim/1 Kings 18:21)

This week’s Haftarah (selection from the Prophets) was likely chosen because of the Torah’s reference to the sin of the golden calf when Israel became impatient waiting for Moses to return from meeting with God on Mt. Sinai. While he was in the presence of God receiving revelation for the nation, they were worshiping cow statues in God’s name.

The idolatrous situation in Elijah’s day was different. While there may have been elements of syncretism (the blending of true and false spiritualities) as in the earlier episode, the latter situation was one in which the people flipped flopped from faith in the Lord to Baal and back again as they desired. In this case, there was no confusion as to the identity of these two deities (or supposed deity as in the case of Baal) or the requirements each demanded. When and why one or the other would be approached would have depended upon the particular needs of the person at the given time.

Elijah challenged the people to stop flip-flopping. Note that he didn’t appeal to culture, preferences, or benefits. He didn’t even use the appeal most common in Scripture, that of the Lord’s deliverance from Egypt. Instead, he urged them to follow the one who is truly God. He left no room for syncretism. It was either one or the other, not both. The people’s reaction at the end of the story, after seeing which of the two responded in power, agrees with Elijah’s exclusive view of God. Only one divine being can be supreme, and therefore, only one God should be served. Whatever the other represented, real or not, had no claim on the people’s loyalty.

Israel had been experiencing a drought for three years ever since Elijah said it would be so. Since the Lord didn’t send the rain (or was blamed for holding it back), Baal, the storm god, was their next best choice for help. The people’s silence in the face of Elijah’s challenge exposes their uncertainty. That a god of power existed they had no doubt. But who was the true and only God? Of that they were so unsure, they didn’t know what to say. Their inability to discern spiritual truth had left them shifting back and forth between allegiances.

The difficulty in relating a story like this to our day is that we don’t tend to give our false gods personal names, such as Baal. But just because we don’t have personal names for education, money, technology, health, religion, sex, power, and fame doesn’t mean we don’t flip flop back and forth between relying on these lesser powers and the only true God. These and other areas of life are tools, not gods. But when we serve them instead of the Master of the Universe, we become enslaved to them. Then when we try to retain a right relationship to the Master of the Universe we become more and more confused, not knowing what to say when we are confronted on our duplicity.

The only way to stop flip-flopping is to stop. We need to remember that every aspect of life is under God’s rule. Whatever your need is, whatever your situation, the God of Elijah, the Father of our Messiah Yeshua is supreme. Don’t give yourself to lesser powers anymore, but rather submit to the one and only God. Don’t let impatience drive you to give yourself over to lesser powers. He will come through for you in time.

All scriptures, English Standard Version (ESV) of the Bible

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Be the Light

For the week of February 24, 2024 / 15 Adar 5784

Message info over part of the Arch of Titus

Tetzaveh
Torah: Shemot/Exodus 27:20 – 30:10
Haftarah: Ezekiel 43:10-27
Originally posted the week of February 16, 2019 / 11 Adar 5779

You shall command the people of Israel that they bring to you pure beaten olive oil for the light, that a lamp may regularly be set up to burn. In the tent of meeting, outside the veil that is before the testimony, Aaron and his sons shall tend it from evening to morning before the LORD. It shall be a statute forever to be observed throughout their generations by the people of Israel. (Shemot/Exodus 27:20-21)

One of the most recognizable symbols of the Jewish people is the menorah, the seven-branched candelabra, intended for exclusive use within the Mishkan (English: Tabernacle) and later the Temple. It’s ironic that it became so recognizable, given its location, a hidden room into which only the cohanim (English: priests) were allowed to enter. The reason why we know what it looked like is because it is included in the depiction of the siege of Jerusalem on the first century Arch of Titus in Rome. Where the menorah ended up, we may never know. In spite of theories claiming items such as the Ark of the Covenant being in safekeeping somewhere, as far as we know all the Mishkan/Temple’s furnishings, including the menorah, are lost for good.

The menorah had a most practical purpose. It was the only light available within the ha-kodesh (English: the Holy Place). Without it, it was pitch black in there. Without it, the cohanim couldn’t fulfill their duties. The carrying away of the menorah by the Romans, like the destruction of the Temple, seemed to indicate the extinguishing of Israel’s light.

The centuries that followed were dark ones for the Jewish people. Yet, even without the menorah and the priestly service, the scattered nation never lost hope of the return of the divine light. Some may claim that the light never went out because the fire of hope in the hearts of the people never stopped burning.

The eternal light of God cannot be snuffed out. The menorah had more than a practical function. It was a symbol of the illuminating presence of God. Israel was chosen by God to be people of light, the bearers of truth for the world. God’s revelation of himself and his ways allowed Israel to clearly see the world as it is in contrast to the other nations having to grope about, trying to figure life out in the darkness of alienation from God. The time would come when the light would not shine upon Israel alone but would flood the world with its brilliance.

And that time came.

It’s no coincidence that within a generation of the Messiah’s coming, the menorah would be carried off into the center of one of the greatest empires of all time. This was not to show that the light of God shifted from Jerusalem to Rome, but that the light of God would no longer be hidden away in the Temple.

Israel’s light was never extinguished, for eleven Jewish men were commissioned by the Messiah to bring that light to the nations. Since then, each follower of Yeshua is called to bear that same light, wherever we may go.

For that to happen, each of us needs to be a menorah so to speak. In the same way that the menorah needed to be continually tended, so we need to tend to the Messiah’s light in us. Tragically, too many take his light for granted, thinking he will do what he will do in and through us, with or without our attention. But it doesn’t work that way. Like the priests of old, we need to make sure his light keeps burning bright. Yeshua’s warning not to hide our light under a basket (see Matthew 5:15) is an intentionally ridiculous image to emphasize how ludicrous it is when we do just that.

Have you ever thought of how we hide our light away? Perhaps others have reacted to you, because of your faith in Yeshua? Hopefully it was for a good reason – the Lord’s light was exposing evil in their lives. What did you when that happened? Did you apologize and dim it down? Or did you let the light do its job? Perhaps you don’t even bother shining in certain situations. You leave it at home, only turning it up during a personal prayer time or when you are with other believers. It can get tiring shining your light in one place and not another. It’s on when you’re in your car listening to music, off at the coffee shop or at work, and back on again at gatherings. I don’t think that’s how to tend the light. No wonder it’s getting so dark in some places.

It’s time to tend the light. We need to give attention to Yeshua’s presence in our lives so that he shines brightly through us. We can’t fabricate it. We can only tend it. We can only tend what we have. If you don’t have it, ask God for it. And once he sets you ablaze, keep it burning.

All scriptures, English Standard Version (ESV) of the Bible

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Something’s Missing

For the week of February 17, 2024 / 8 Adar 5784

Message info over the opening of a double door, revealing a large question mark against a bright white background

Terumah
Torah: Shemot/Exodus 25:1 – 27:19
Haftarah: 1 Melachim/1 Kings 5:26 – 6:13 (English 5:12 – 6:13)

There I will meet with you, and from above the mercy seat, from between the two cherubim that are on the ark of the testimony, I will speak with you about all that I will give you in commandment for the people of Israel. (Shemot/Exodus 25:22)

We are currently in the section of the Torah that provides instructions for the building of the Mishkan (English: Tabernacle) and its associated items. The Mishkan was a semi-portable worship center for the people of Israel. It was designed to be taken down and moved throughout Israel’s wilderness journey until it would be more or less permanently placed in the Promised Land at the location determined by God.

Calling it a worship center may conjure an inaccurate picture in your mind. Perhaps, “sacrifice center” is better, since its main activity was to be the offering of sacrifices. Yet, for the people of its day, worship and sacrifice were basically the same thing as the people’s service to God (worship means service) was mainly expressed through sacrifice. Gathering for prayer and song would be a development over time. That’s not to say that there weren’t other important aspects to what went on at the Mishkan. It’s that sacrifice was very much core to everything that went on there.

Missing from the Mishkan’s instructions are clear explanations of what its design and various articles mean. This may reflect God’s priorities in that following his instructions is more important than understanding the reasons behind them. That’s not to say that there are no reasons for what God directs here, but perhaps our need to understand shouldn’t be of utmost importance.

This is not to say that the Mishkan is devoid of powerful meaning. First and foremost, the Mishkan was established by God to ensure that the people would not sacrifice to God in any way and in any place they pleased. Beyond that, the curtain that separated the Most Holy Place from the rest of the Mishkan and the outside world illustrated our general alienation from God. Moreover, the atonement cover on the Ark of the Covenant demonstrated the necessity of sacrificial blood to enable us to meet with God. Still, we should be careful not to overly speculate, finding meaning where it isn’t stated or clearly implied.

Perhaps one of the most meaningful aspects of the Mishkan is found in something that is completely missing: an image of God. After all, isn’t that what such a structure was to house? Today we take God’s invisibility for granted. But back then, gods were always represented through images of various kinds. That for all intents and purposes, the Mishkan was empty, was radical.

The missing something—or I should say, “someone”—not only demonstrated the truth that the God of Israel could not be contained, but also, as the Master of the Universe, he is not subject to human control.

It seems to me that God’s immaterial nature as profoundly expressed through his rejection of representative imagery in the Mishkan is an aspect of his person and character that many people have trouble accepting. Note that I am aware that it’s not as if God has no image at all, for that’s a fundamental role of human beings as made in his image and most fully expressed through the Messiah. But while we have these vivid expressions of his image, his invisibility tends to be something many of us try to overcome instead of accept.

We do this in the various ways we attempt to get a handle on life. We constantly try to stay in control in an unpredictable world. We adopt various techniques to provide us with a sense of security. Instead of heeding the biblical call to entrust ourselves to the all-powerful, good, and loving God, we rely on formulas, superstitions, ideologies, affiliations, and psychological gimmicks. We so easily buy into the lie that we can guarantee desired results by our attempts to manipulate the world. And often we do so in God’s name.

Our attempt to replace what’s missing from the Mishkan robs us from truly experiencing God’s presence and power. It’s only as we accept what’s missing that we can discover that, in fact, nothing is missing at all.

All scriptures, English Standard Version (ESV) of the Bible

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Whose Side Are You On?

For the week of February 10, 2024 / 1 Adar 5784

Message info over a man holding a Bible, staring up to heaven

Mishpatim
Torah: Shemot/Exodus 21:1 – 24:18; B’midbar/Numbers 28:9-15
Haftarah: Isaiah 66:1-24

But if you carefully obey his voice and do all that I say, then I will be an enemy to your enemies and an adversary to your adversaries. (Shemot/Exodus 23:22)

I find reading something like this difficult in light of what’s been going on in Israel since October 7. Frankly, I am hesitant to bring it up mainly because I fear those who might weaponize it against my people. “See!” they say. “If the people of Israel were truly godly, they wouldn’t be constantly facing extermination by their enemies, let alone the horrific attack by Hamas on October 7.” Among Bible-sensitive people, I suspect that many wonder if the current crisis might be a purposeful act of judgement on God’s part. If Israel lived up to its biblical calling, they may think, then there would be peace within its borders, as God would keep its enemies at bay.

To start off, let’s consider that this might be true. That is a possibility that the slaughter of 1200 Israelis and others, including women, the elderly, and children, plus the taking of hostages, many of whom were also women, the elderly, and children, was an act of judgment by God against Israel for its sins. What’s that to you? The Messiah was confronted by a similar question when he was asked about certain Galileans who were slaughtered by the Roman governor:

And he answered them, “Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans, because they suffered in this way? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish. Or those eighteen on whom the tower in Siloam fell and killed them: do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others who lived in Jerusalem? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish” (Luke 13:2-5).

I like to say that when we read the Bible, it is always speaking to me (if you are reading it, it’s speaking to you). There is always a temptation to think in terms of other people who, “really need to hear this!” And perhaps that’s true to some extent. But before considering others, we need to start with ourselves.

I imagine when almost three thousand people perished in the terrorist attack upon the World Trade Center in September 2011, many people wondered, “What did they do to deserve that?” There are so many supposedly miraculous stories of people who should have been there but weren’t. Were they more righteous than the selfless rescue workers who perished, for example? Who are we to make such determinations? Yeshua’s words are designed to turn us from judging the dead to questioning ourselves. Such disasters should cause us to take personal inventory of our own lives and make sure that we are right with God before we face our own disaster, which will come for all of us eventually.

We also have to take into account how a promise like the one I quoted from this week’s parsha (Torah portion) actually works. We might assume that it’s a simple cause-and-effect principle, as in “behave yourselves and everything will always be fine.” Scripture doesn’t reflect such a simplistic interpretation. The Book of Job, for example, focuses on the problem we have with life not always working out as we expect. Job’s friends wrongly assumed that his suffering was proof positive that he was being punished for his sins. In reality, he was suffering because he was such a good man.

David is another example. Labelled as “a man after God’s own heart,” he suffered at the hands of a demonically oppressed tyrant, not for his wrongs, but because God had chosen him to be Israel’s righteous leader.

Do these and other examples, therefore, contradict Torah? Absolutely not! What they do is provide fuller understanding as to how life with God works. Note we read, not that Israel would not suffer, but rather that if they were careful to be attentive to God’s directions, then their enemies would be God’s enemies. It would be presumptuous to think that God was fighting on their behalf, if they were not treating him as their commander in chief.

I would hope that the current crisis in Israel is provoking Israelis and all Jewish people everywhere to consider their relationship with God. But shouldn’t we all?

All scriptures, English Standard Version (ESV) of the Bible

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The Ten Words

For the week of February 3, 2024 / 24 Shevat 5784

Message info along with a wooden representation of the Ten Commandments

Yitro
Torah: Shemot/Exodus 18:1 – 20:23
Haftarah: Isaiah 6:1 – 7:6; 9:5-6 (English: 9:6-7)
Originally posted the week of January 30, 2016 / 20 Shevat 5776 (revised)

And God spoke all these words, saying, “I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery. You shall have no other gods before me.” (Shemot/Exodus 20:1-3)

The Ten Commandments function in a most special way within holy Scripture. You may not be aware that they are never actually called the “ten commandments,” but rather, eseret ha-devarim, “the Ten Words” (see Shemot/Exodus 34:28). Obviously the Hebrew is indicating that this is much more than a list of ten individual words. Rather they are ten unique divine utterances, unique in several ways.

First, the Ten Words were the only part of God’s revelation to Moses that was given in the direct hearing of the people (see Shemot/Exodus 20:18-21). It isn’t clear if they heard the actual words, but whatever they heard, they were so terrified, they never want to experience it again.

Second, of all that Moses received from God, only these Ten Words were written by God’s own finger. In fact, he did so twice, due to Moses’ destroying the first set in reaction to Israel’s rebellious activities while he was with God on the mountain (see Shemot/Exodus 31:18; 34:1).

The third and perhaps most important way the Ten Words are unique is that they, in particular, are called “the covenant” (see Shemot/Exodus 34:28). This would be why they were among the items that were placed inside the aron ha-berit, the Ark of the Covenant.

There was of course more to the covenant given at Mount Sinai than just the Ten Words. The Ten served to point the people to the details of the entire covenant. They weren’t necessarily more important than any other of God’s directives, but what they do is capture the essence of the whole covenant, while the rest of Torah elaborates on them. The Ten, then, especially as a collection, have an essential symbolic function in that they represent the whole Sinai covenant.

It is not biblically sound, therefore, to isolate or detach the Ten Words from the rest of Torah as if God gave these directives as universal principles, while everything else he revealed through Moses was for Israel alone. This is not to say that the Ten Words or anything else in Torah aren’t necessarily universal. It’s that it is not right to automatically consider them as universal just because they are the Ten Words.

Biblically speaking, the Ten Words first and foremost function as covenant, not moral principles. They (as much of the rest of Torah) are full of morality, but primarily they establish the basis and parameters of God’s relationship with ancient Israel. That is why the Ten Words begin with “I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery” (Shemot/Exodus 20:2). Israel was to obey God’s commands on the basis of their having been rescued from Egypt, something which no other nation can claim. Note that Israel’s salvation and relationship to God were established by God first before he gave them directions to live by. Biblical morality was never intended to be a pathway to God, but rather a response of God’s people to his love and faithfulness.

Living God’s way under the New Covenant is similar in that it too is a response to God’s salvation. This time not only as the nation of Israel who were in physical bondage to Egypt, but people of all nations who have been released from the greater bondage to sin and death through faith in the Messiah.

But as those who have a relationship with God through Yeshua, how do we live? While many have adopted the Ten Words as their moral code, others have rejected most, if not all, the commands given through Moses as being relevant today. Some claim that Yeshua replaced an older notion of hundreds of commands with only two (love God and love your neighbor) as if God is now lenient instead of strict. But that’s not what is going on here at all. Yeshua’s answer to the question concerning the greatest commandment (see Matthew 22:36-40) provides perspective and priority in relating to God. These two commands therefore serve as a summary of everything God calls us to.

But what does he call us to? Under the New Covenant, Torah, which was at one time written on tablets of stone, is now engraved upon our hearts (see Jeremiah 31:31-34; 2 Corinthians 3:3). That which was external has been internalized. This transformational change brought about by Yeshua’s death and resurrection allows us to live out the essential elements of God’s revelation through Moses including the Ten Words.

All scriptures, English Standard Version (ESV) of the Bible

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The Impossible

For the week of January 27, 2024 / 17 Shevat 5784

Beshalach
Torah: Shemot/Exodus 13:17 – 17:16
Haftarah: Shoftim/Judges 4:4 – 5:31
Originally posted the week of January 27, 2018 / 11 Shevat 5778

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Then the LORD said to Moses, “Tell the people of Israel to turn back and encamp in front of Pi-hahiroth, between Migdol and the sea, in front of Baal-zephon; you shall encamp facing it, by the sea.” (Shemot/Exodus 14:1-2)

You may be familiar with the oft-quoted, eighteenth-century hymn that begins with “God moves in a mysterious way; his wonders to perform.” This captures the difficulty of understanding what God is doing amidst difficult circumstances. A life of faith can be a life of confusion as we face the tension of the love and goodness of God with the pain and sorrow we must endure at times.

As we grapple with this, there is an aspect of God’s intentions that we may miss. Our failure to fully reckon with these intentions may prevent us from walking through difficulty as effectively as we should. At times we regard coping with difficulties as sufficient, when what God wants is something way more than that. Godly endurance isn’t necessarily passive, as if the best course of action when facing a storm is always hunkering down waiting for it to pass.

This is not what God wanted the people of Israel to do when they faced the impossible situation of being between the Egyptian Army and the Red Sea. Moses seemed to think all they needed to do was to stand there, trust God, and all would be well. Certainly there are such incidences in the Bible, but this is not one of them. Here, God told the people to go forward towards the Sea. We know what was going to happen, because the story is so familiar. We also have the luxury of being able to read this on paper, not live through it as they did. Imagine, God’s expressed will was to head toward the water.

This is not simply a case of finding yourself in a difficult situation, confused by circumstances, wondering where God might be in it all, as you try to find comfort in sayings such as “God moves in a mysterious way.” This is not simply an opportunity to cope with the broken nature of life. This is God thrusting his people into what appears to be the jaws of death, while expecting them to do the impossible.

God is not hiding in the shadows here. He is smack in the middle of this terrifying situation, calling his people to go for it as never before. Hey, the water’s fine! You only think you’re committing suicide. Get going; you are about to do the impossible!

I don’t think Israel had much choice with this one. To disobey the command to move forward toward the sea meant annihilation by the Egyptians. We also at times find ourselves moving forward toward the impossible in spite of ourselves. How many terrifying things have we had to face only to experience the power of God to get us through?

I wonder if there might be other times, when God wants to thrust us toward the impossible, but because there is no army threating our backs, we pull back. Overwhelmed by apparently insurmountable challenges, we miss the opportunity to accomplish what God has for us. Can that happen? It happened in the Bible. Think of this same group of people, who about two years later lost their opportunity to enter the Promised Land due to fear and lack of faith (see Numbers 13-14). One of the issues at that time was they doubted God’s intentions in calling them to face the impossible, thinking he was out to destroy them. Sounds ridiculous to us now, but at the time the impossible can be so overwhelming that we lose sight of God’s good intent.

God calls for a faith in keeping with the great and awesome God he is. Yeshua told his followers during his last Passover with them, that after he was gone, they would do greater works than he did. Instead of shrinking the word “greater” into tiny packages we can handle, we should allow the enormity of his statement to saturate our beings. Not only does God want us to do “greater works,” he fabricates the situations in which they are to occur by thrusting us into the impossible. That’s impossible for us; not impossible to God. It’s time to move forward!

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version

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Don’t Look Down!

For the week of January 20, 2024 / 10 Shevat 5784

Message info over an illustration of a hiker helping another hiker up a cliff

Bo
Torah: Shemot/Exodus 10:1 – 13:16
Haftarah: Jeremiah 46:13-28

But fear not, O Jacob my servant, nor be dismayed, O Israel, for behold, I will save you from far away, and your offspring from the land of their captivity. Jacob shall return and have quiet and ease, and none shall make him afraid. (Jeremiah 46:27)

A considerable amount of biblical prophetic writing includes predictive portions for the purpose of eliciting a current response. It could be a warning of something dire that could be avoided if heeded, or it might be a promise of good things to come in order to encourage people toward a particular attitude or action.

Much of the Book of Jeremiah is sobering. As an act of God’s judgment, the kingdom of Judah was being violently overrun by the Babylonians. All the while, Jeremiah was giving the unusual message of calling the people to surrender. Exile was not to be the people’s end, however, for God would rescue them in time. Even though many of them would not be alive by then, they were to be encouraged by this. In this week’s Haftarah (weekly portion from the Hebrew prophets), Jeremiah was drawing the people’s attention to a time when they would not only be rescued by God and returned to their land, but live a life of “quiet and ease,” when “none shall make [them] afraid.” The anticipation of a day in the future when they would have nothing at all to fear called them to reject the tendency toward fear in the present. The passage continues:

Fear not, O Jacob my servant, declares the LORD, for I am with you. I will make a full end of all the nations to which I have driven you, but of you I will not make a full end. I will discipline you in just measure, and I will by no means leave you unpunished (Jeremiah 46:28).

It’s helpful to see that it’s not simply the anticipation of a brighter future that would make a difference, but also knowing that God would be with the people through what would clearly be a painful process until then. God will be working. God will see them through. Even though it will be difficult, because God will be with them through it all, they were not to fear.

I have been thinking a lot about the interaction between Yeshua and Jairus, the synagogue official (see Mark 5:21-43). Jairus’s daughter was ill, and Yeshua was on his way to heal her. After an interruption occurs on the way, Jairus gets word that his daughter had died in the meantime. No need for the healer any longer, he was told. For years, I have been struck by what Yeshua says to Jairus at this point: “Do not fear, only believe” (Mark 5:36). Where does it say that Jairus was afraid? It was over. His daughter was dead. He must have been disappointed and sad. Possibly angry about the interruption. Maybe he was put out by Yeshua’s giving attention to someone else, when he was next in line, so to speak. But afraid?

Perhaps what Yeshua is calling “fear” isn’t necessarily that all-to-familiar emotional unsettled reaction. It’s far deeper than that. It’s a way of looking at the circumstances of life that may or may not be accompanied by such feelings. It’s a distraction from whatever is really true at a given time. With or without feeling afraid, fear may be a way to describe when we look at life through an obscure lens of untruth.

To illustrate, picture this common movie scene. A person slips off the cliff’s edge. At the last minute, their companion grabs their arm as they dangle over a thousand-foot drop. Their companion says: “Don’t look down. Look at me!” At that point, the person has a choice. They could look down and focus on the danger or they can look upon the one who can save them. Looking down fuels hopelessness; looking up provides hope (assuming their companion has the power to save them, of course). But the companion’s ability means nothing if the person isn’t willing to trust them.

Jairus was thrown into a situation where the evidence suggested all was lost. Giving oneself to despair is the essence of fear, whatever our emotional state may be. Hope was restored when Jarius took his eyes off the problem and onto the Messiah. He who was appointed by God to one day provide “quiet and ease” for the nation was standing there with him that day.

Until then, we will face all kinds of challenges, but the Messiah will come through eventually as he promised. Until then, do not fear, only believe.

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version

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Mistaken Covenants

For the week of January 13, 2024 / 3 Shevat 5784

Message info over embarrased male against the Hebrew Ten Commandments as the background

Va-era
Torah: Shemot/Exodus 6:2 – 9:35
Haftarah: Ezekiel 28:25 – 29:21

Moreover, I have heard the groaning of the people of Israel whom the Egyptians hold as slaves, and I have remembered my covenant. (Shemot/Exodus 6:5)

I am currently immersed in the subject of “supersessionism,” also called “replacement theology” or “fulfilment theology.” Supersessionism is the historic theological belief system that the Israel of the Old Testament has been superseded by the Church of the New Testament. This viewpoint emerged likely as early as the first century and has been the dominant Christian viewpoint until today. Supersessionism views the Church as the New or True Israel, most often appropriating various Old Testament characters and principles when deemed suitable for its purposes.

In the past few centuries there have been some alternate viewpoints that find some room somewhere for an ongoing understanding of Israel, including or excluding the Land of Israel. But it’s only since the Holocaust that theologians have more widely attempted to seriously rethink this default position. It’s tragic that it took six million Jews to be exterminated by the Nazis in the heart of Christian Europe to prompt a rethink. It’s doubly tragic that it took circumstances to drive theologians back to the Bible. And even more tragic that so many Christians continue to view the Bible through a supersessionist lens. Forgive me if it’s my idealism that leads me to think that Paul’s letter to the Romans alone should be a sufficient antidote to supersessionism. One needs to do some interesting theological gymnastics to explain away, “As regards the gospel, they are enemies for your sake. But as regards election, they are beloved for the sake of their forefathers. For the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable” (Romans 11:28-29). Whatever antagonistic role some were playing, God’s perspective on the Jewish people as a whole is clear: they are “beloved,” and that which God bestowed upon them through Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is irrevocable.

This is a huge subject, but for now, I would like to demonstrate how this week’s parsha (weekly Torah reading portion) helps clarify a confusion that often leads to supersessionism. In these early chapters of the second book of the Torah, we find Israel suffering as slaves in Egypt. God responds to their cries, by saying, “I have heard the groaning of the people of Israel whom the Egyptians hold as slaves, and I have remembered my covenant” (Shemot/Exodus 6:5). But what covenant? Many Christians assume it’s the “Old Covenant.” The problem is that what the New Testament would later call the Old Covenant had not yet been established. The covenant referenced here is the one God gave to Abraham, his son Isaac, and his grandson Jacob centuries earlier. God had changed Jacob’s name to Israel, the name by which the nation would be called. This covenant unconditionally committed God to Israel’s peoplehood, land, and role in God’s purposes.

Israel’s time in Egypt was part of God’s plan. The land of Canaan would one day be theirs, but their transition from being a migrant clan to a two-million strong nation was to happen in the pressure cooker of a foreign land. I wonder how often, especially when their originally favored status collapsed into servitude, that the people thought the covenant of peoplehood and land was nothing but a legend—fantasy might be the better word. But God had not forgotten. At the right time, he delivered them on the basis of that covenant.

The covenant with their forefathers would not be the only covenant God would make with the people of Israel, however. God’s rescuing them led to the establishment of a second covenant through Moses at Mt. Sinai. This second covenant was conditional upon Israel’s adherence.

As it turned out, the people of Israel failed to uphold their covenant obligations, resulting in serious negative consequences. Yet, the effects of the broken Sinai covenant were not to have the final word in Israel’s history. The original unconditional covenant set up, what I like to term, a “dilemma, for God. God worked out a way to punish Israel for disobedience under Sinai without undermining the unconditionality of the earlier covenant. This is why throughout the Scriptures there’s a tension between God’s determination to chastise Israel and his commitment to never fully reject them.

It is this dilemma that results in the New Covenant as promised through the prophet Jeremiah (see Jeremiah 31:31-34) and established by the Messiah (see Luke 22:20). Where people tend to get confused is over what is the old thing of which the New Covenant is the new thing. By calling the Hebrew Scriptures the Old Testament, “testament” being another word for covenant, people understandably get the impression that the Hebrew Scriptures as a whole should be viewed as past its expiry date, so to speak. The only book of the Bible that explicitly addresses this matter is the Book of Hebrews. However, Hebrews is asserting the obsolescence, not of God’s covenantal relationship with the people of Israel, but the Sinai covenant as a system administered by the Levitical priesthood and centered in the Temple in Jerusalem. The relationship of the ongoing nature of much of the contents of the Sinai covenant to the obsolescence of the Levitical system is a topic for another time.

Failure to differentiate these two covenants contributed to the view that the destruction of Jerusalem in AD 70 along with the later exile of the great majority of the Jewish people as God’s complete rejection of his covenantal relationship with Israel.

But thankfully, the God of Israel is a God of his word. In fact, the reason why anyone can trust him today is due to his ongoing covenantal faithfulness to the descendants of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version

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