For the week of May 23, 2026 / 7 Sivan 5786

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Shavuot
Torah: D’varim/Deuteronomy 14:22 – 16:17
Haftarah: Habakkuk 3:1–19
Originally posted the week of May 30, 2009 / 7 Sivan 5769 (updated)

Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation. God, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer’s; he makes me tread on my high places. (Habakkuk 3:17-19)

When I first came to know the reality of God through the Messiah almost fifty years ago, it was pretty much me-centered. I had been told that if I believed in Yeshua, then I would be happy for the rest of my life. To be clear, there was much more to it than that at the time. The happiness promise may have been a hook, but the person who shared this with me powerfully demonstrated how the Jewish Bible pointed to Yeshua as the Messiah and clearly explained my need for forgiveness before God.

Thankfully, despite any misguided motives on my part, God indeed made himself known to me. Don’t get me wrong. It is not as if knowing God has no personal benefit. It’s that knowing him is not primarily about me, my personal needs, and my happiness. That’s not to say that I haven’t experienced a happiness I never dreamed possible, not to mention peace and security in the midst of great difficulty.

The depth of reality that comes from truly knowing the God of Israel is vividly expressed in the words I read from this week’s Haftarah (weekly reading portion from the Hebrew Prophets). It is striking that this portion is a special reading for the festival of Shavuot (English: Pentecost or Weeks; beginning this year, Friday evening, May 22). Shavuot is a harvest festival, a time to rejoice over God’s provision. But Habakkuk says that he will rejoice in God even when the harvest produces nothing. This is a most difficult concept if we think, as I originally did, that following God is all about what we get out of it.

Habakkuk’s words remind me of the Jewish men, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, who, while in exile in Babylon, faced the possibility of excruciating death due to their unwillingness to commit idolatry. Just before being thrown into the fiery furnace, they said to the king of Babylon, “…our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of your hand, O king. But if not, be it known to you, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up” (Daniel 3:17–18).

This kind of understanding of God and life goes far beyond self, our personal welfare, comfort, and prosperity. These men knew that there is a reality of life that comes from knowing God, far deeper than what many of us normally experience.

Habukkuk could rejoice in God even in the face of starvation. His strength and ability to face dire circumstances were not based on normal material prosperity but in God himself. This is no abstract spirituality detached from the realities of life, but a strength that enables us to live life amidst enormous challenges.

To begin to grasp the depths of this reality, we need to turn away from our obsession with self and our desire to please self. It’s as we submit ourselves to God and his will for our lives, whatever that may be, that we can find a joy and a strength beyond our wildest dreams.

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

For the week of May 16, 2026 / 29 Iyar 5786

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B’midbar
Torah: B’midbar/Numbers 1:1 – 4:20
Haftarah: 1 Samuel 20:18–42
Originally posted the week of May 24, 2014 / 24 Iyar 5774 (revised)

But they shall not go in to look on the holy things even for a moment, lest they die. (B’midbar/Numbers 4:20)

A friend once asked me how we can reconcile what appear to be two very different depictions of God in the Bible. He had just read the incident in the Torah where a man was executed for gathering sticks on Shabbat (see B’midbar/Numbers 15:32-36). To my friend, the God who would mete out such a harsh consequence for a seemingly insignificant act is contrary to the God revealed to us through Yeshua. How could the one who tenderly embraced children (see Mark 10:13-16) and called the weary to find rest in him (see Matthew 11:28-30) tolerate capital punishment for carrying sticks?

This is the age-old false dichotomy that claims the Bible portrays two different gods: The god of the Hebrew Bible being a god of wrath and judgment; the god of the New Covenant Writings, a god of love and mercy (I am using a lowercase “g” for “god” here because I am referring to false gods who don’t exist). While my friend didn’t accept such a two-god theory, the difficulty he was having is all too common.

The God of the Bible is a complex being. Throughout Scripture, he is revealed to us as a God of love and mercy, of wrath and judgment. He who cursed the world due to sin immediately determined to rescue it. In his dealings with human beings, his heart’s longing for restoration and relationship pours forth from the Bible’s pages. Yet his intense intolerance of evil, both its source and its outworkings are clear. God longs for his goodness to be experienced by his beloved creatures, but will in no way lightly put up with wrongdoing. The tension between God’s determination to rescue his beloved creatures and the necessity to judge evil is found throughout. The Gospels’ portrayal of God, as demonstrated through Yeshua’s actions and teachings, is consistent with this. Yeshua, who can be so tender and welcoming, is also at times severely confrontational. Contrary to some people’s perceptions, he didn’t reserve his harsher statements for religious leaders alone; he had some pretty hard things to say to his followers as well. In the book of Acts, we read of the early experiences of the messianic community following Yeshua’s return to heaven after his resurrection. God’s plan of salvation is in full swing, yet in one case, we see a married couple struck dead due to their deceit (see Acts 5:1-11) and, in another, a man struck blind for opposing the preaching of the Gospel (see Acts 13:6-12).

So, we shouldn’t be surprised when we read in this week’s parsha (English: Torah reading portion) the dire warning given to the Kohathites, one of the Levitical clans. They were responsible for the transportation of the sacred furniture of the Mishkan (English: Tabernacle). While they were to carry these items, if by any chance they looked at them, they’d die.

While, as I have tried to explain, harsh consequences for trespassing a God-given directive are found throughout Scripture, we may still have trouble with God treating people this way. Why is he so harsh at times? That he might punish the wicked, we may be okay with, but this kind of thing? That he has rules regarding the holy items, no problem. His property, his rules; but death? And just for looking? Even by accident?

The truth is, God is dangerous. I know we’d rather not think like that. We would rather stick with the image of Yeshua and the children. But when we insist on solely focusing on one aspect of God’s character, no matter how true and wonderful it might be, we turn him into a caricature, perverting the reality of his complexity into an idol of our own making.

God is dangerous because he is the most powerful being in the entire universe. Have you ever seen one of those high-voltage signs that are common around power stations-the signs with the lightning bolt and the falling man? The Mishkan should have had one of those signs. Every synagogue and church should have one too. Bible covers as well.

The God who forbade the Kohathites from looking at the holy articles hasn’t changed. He is still dangerous. We still can’t approach him on our terms without risking death. But he has made a way. Through the forgiveness available to all who put their trust in Yeshua, we can approach God in a way the Kohathites could not. Still, as we approach the dangerous, all-powerful God, let’s remember who it is we are dealing with.

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

For the week of May 9, 2026 / 22 Iyar 5786

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Behar & Bechukotai
Torah: Vayikra/Leviticus 25:1 – 27:34
Haftarah: Jeremiah 16:19 – 17:14
Originally posted the week of June 4, 2016 / 27 Iyar 5776 (revised)

But if they confess their iniquity and the iniquity of their fathers in their treachery that they committed against me, and also in walking contrary to me, so that I walked contrary to them and brought them into the land of their enemies—if then their uncircumcised heart is humbled and they make amends for their iniquity, then I will remember my covenant with Jacob, and I will remember my covenant with Isaac and my covenant with Abraham, and I will remember the land. (Vayikra/Leviticus 26:40-42)

In this, the last weekly portion of the third book of Moses, we read of the conditions under which God would restore the people of Israel to a right relationship with himself and return them to their land, first promised to their forefathers. The covenantal reference in the verses just quoted is key to understanding God’s unique arrangement with the people of Israel.

This week’s parsha (weekly Torah reading portion) describes the blessings of obedience and the consequences of disobedience under the covenantal arrangement established by God through Moses at Mt. Sinai. As long as people adhered to God’s commands, they, as a nation, would thrive. But should they reject God’s ways, breaking this covenant, they would experience terrible circumstances, culminating in oppression by their enemies and exile.

In the event this should occur, which indeed it did, God made provision within the Sinai covenant for restoration both to himself and to the land. But note that this provision is not based on the Sinai covenant, but rather on the earlier one made with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Israel’s existence as a people, including their habitation and their role among the nations of the world, was established, not by Sinai through Moses, but by God’s unconditional promises to Abraham (see Bereshit/Genesis 12:1-3) and passed down to Isaac and Jacob. The Sinai covenant with its conditional blessings came about as a result of God’s deliverance of his people from their oppression in Egypt, a deliverance also rooted in his earlier covenant with the forefathers. This is what we read in Shemot (the Book of Exodus):

During those many days the king of Egypt died, and the people of Israel groaned because of their slavery and cried out for help. Their cry for rescue from slavery came up to God. And God heard their groaning, and God remembered his covenant with Abraham, with Isaac, and with Jacob. (Shemot/Exodus 2:23-24)

The earlier covenant is the driving force behind all of God’s dealings with Israel. So that even if Sinai resulted in failure, which it did, the covenantal foundation would survive. That’s why God’s judgment upon Israel could never be his final word to them. Even after rejecting God by turning to other gods and suffering the threatened consequences, there would always remain a right of appeal to unconditional promises that predated Moses.

This is also why a new covenant would one day be necessary. Jeremiah, in chapter thirty-one of his book, looked beyond the day when these words of judgment would be fulfilled towards a new covenantal arrangement that would finally resolve the sin problem that continually beset Israel under the Sinai covenant. That God’s affirmation of his ongoing faithfulness to Israel is based on their being the offspring of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is eloquently stated immediately following:

Thus says the LORD,
who gives the sun for light by day
    and the fixed order of the moon and the stars for light by night,
who stirs up the sea so that its waves roar—
    the LORD of hosts is his name:
“If this fixed order departs
    from before me, declares the LORD,
then shall the offspring of Israel cease
    from being a nation before me forever.”

Thus says the LORD:
“If the heavens above can be measured,
    and the foundations of the earth below can be explored,
then I will cast off all the offspring of Israel
    for all that they have done,
declares the LORD.” (Jeremiah 31:35-37)

The establishment of the New Covenant on the foundation of the forefathers provides hope for Israel’s full eventual restoration. It’s in Romans 11:28 that we read, despite Israel’s behavior, “they are beloved for the sake of their forefathers.” More than that! Knowing the New Covenant is rooted in unconditional promises to Israel assures all its participants, Jewish or Gentile, of God’s ongoing faithfulness to them.

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

For the week of May 2, 2026 / 15 Iyar 5786

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Emor
Torah: Vayikra/Leviticus 21:1-24:23
Haftarah: Ezekiel 44:15-31
Originally posted the week of May 21, 2016 / 13 Iyar 5776 (revised and expanded)

Whoever blasphemes the name of the LORD shall surely be put to death. All the congregation shall stone him. The sojourner as well as the native, when he blasphemes the Name, shall be put to death. (Vayikra/Leviticus 24:16)

This week’s parsha (weekly Torah reading portion) includes a very serious injunction to impose violent capital punishment upon a person who “blasphemes the name of the LORD.” We may hear the term “blaspheme” mentioned from time to time, but what does it actually mean? And why is it so serious?

Depending on the English translation, blaspheme is used when translating a variety of Hebrew words that apparently refer to the dishonoring of God in one way or another. The word here is naqav, which has various meanings depending on context. It can mean blaspheme or curse, pierce something with holes, or even select people for something. At first glance, these usages may seem unrelated. In fact, some scholars propose that, while the words may be the same, they may derive from different semantic histories. While that is possible, these usages may actually help us understand what blasphemy really is and why it is so serious.

Whether one is selecting people or boring holes, it presupposes a certain relationship between the person performing the action and the object. Selecting people assumes a level of authority and power on the part of the person doing the selecting. Boring holes assumes superiority and control over an object. It could be that, in a context such as our parsha, naqav describes a person taking a place of superiority over God and treating him like an object to be controlled for one’s own purpose.

The injunction against naqav here was in response to the misuse of God’s name in the midst of a fight between two men. It is possible that the offending party was attempting to utilize God’s name in order to gain the upper hand in the fight. Such a thing was deemed to be so wrong as to warrant the man’s execution.

This is not the same as breaking the third commandment, “You shall not take the name of the LORD your God in vain” (Shemot/Exodus 20:7). To take God’s name in vain is to treat it lightly, especially in relation to taking oaths. Naqav, on the other hand, is invoking God’s name to manipulate others for one’s own benefit.

While under the New Covenant, we (as opposed to the state) have no jurisdiction to enact capital punishment, the Torah portion encourages us to take the prohibition against naqav very seriously. Are there ways in which we seek to use God to control others, and thereby commit naqav? We may not realize how easy it is to invoke God’s name so that others will do our bidding. How often do people illegitimately assert their authority over others in God’s name for their personal pleasure? How often do religious leaders call their people to compromise their God-given convictions in the name of some, supposed, greater good? And how often do members of such communities protect their leaders for fear of losing their position or sense of belonging? Do you think God doesn’t notice?

Every individual is ultimately answerable to God. This is something to remember, especially when dealing with those closest to us. Even when our goal is to honor God and accomplish his will, we must never think it is permissible to use God’s name in an attempt to manipulate those we are called to love and to serve.

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

For the week of April 25, 2026 / 8 Iyar 5786

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Aharei Mot & Kedoshim
Torah: Vayikra/Leviticus 16:1 – 20:27
Haftarah: Amos 9:7-15
Originally posted the week of April 29, 2023 / 8 Iyar 5783 (revised)

I will restore the fortunes of my people Israel, and they shall rebuild the ruined cities and inhabit them; they shall plant vineyards and drink their wine, and they shall make gardens and eat their fruit. I will plant them on their land, and they shall never again be uprooted out of the land that I have given them,” says the LORD your God. (Amos 9:14-15; ESV)

Beginning Tuesday evening this week (April 15, 2026), Yom Ha’atzmaut, Israel Independence Day, begins. This year marks seventy-eight years since the establishment of the modern state of Israel. I may be wrong, but it seems to me that the vast majority of people in the world who claim strong adherence to the Bible see no relation whatsoever between Scripture and the reemergence of Israel as a geopolitical entity. You can probably guess already that I don’t agree.

First, let me say that anything I list as support for a biblical basis for God’s ongoing faithfulness to the Jewish people, including our return to our ancient homeland, does not justify everything Israel has done prior to or during the past seventy-eight years. But can anyone tell me why I even need to say this? Don’t we know that everyone and everything in this world is a mixed bag? Of all people, those of us who value Scripture must be aware that God uses broken vessels. Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, and David all had issues. But if anything, their issues powerfully demonstrate God’s faithfulness both to them as individuals and to Israel as a nation. And yet, for some reason, the majority of the Church tends to regard Israel’s sins as unpardonable despite innumerable promises to the contrary. This week’s Haftarah (weekly reading portion from the Prophets) is but one of many examples that clearly establish God’s commitment to preserve Israel and fulfill its glorious destiny. Yet this doesn’t stop a majority of Christians from irresponsibly reading “the Church” into these promises. If that’s not bad enough, at the same time they are content to leave the judgment aspects with the Jewish people.

There are at least two factors at work here. The first is anti-Jewish sentiment. As the Church went from an exclusively Jewish movement to an exclusively non-Jewish one, non-Jewish leaders brought their ingrained disdain for Jewish people with them, unchecked. As a result, they happily affirmed scriptural critique of Israel, while deflecting God’s messages of love, concern, assurance, and restoration solely to themselves. The second factor is the misapplication of the concept of ingrafting that Paul expounds in Romans, chapter eleven. The inclusion of the nations in the Gospel is something Paul calls, in Ephesians chapter three, a mystery (see Ephesians 3:1-6). No one expected God’s blessings to be extended to non-Israelites through the Messiah in the way God always intended. But instead of receiving this undeserved grace with humility, they quickly developed a “new kid on the block” attitude, an attitude Paul adamantly warned against in Romans 11 (see Romans 11:18).

The Jewish people have endured great suffering due to the Church’s unwillingness to grasp the scriptural complexity of God’s commitment to Israel. Messiah’s coming emerged out of God’s faithfulness to Israel in order to resolve, once and for all, their alienation from God due to ongoing disobedience. But no one anticipated how this would fulfill God’s promise to Abraham to bless the nations, while also working to restore Israel to himself and to their land.

For some reason, many Christians are fine with a god (note the lowercase “g”), who is willing to receive outsiders but doesn’t have it in him to preserve and restore his own covenant people. I am aware of parables spoken to certain Jewish leaders, warning them of being cast out, while Gentiles will be let in. At an individual level, that’s true. But it is wrong to paint this as Jews vs. Gentiles. Instead, it’s between the arrogant and the humble, whoever or wherever they may be. This is why Paul would write: “For if you were cut from what is by nature a wild olive tree, and grafted, contrary to nature, into a cultivated olive tree, how much more will these, the natural branches, be grafted back into their own olive tree” (Romans 11:24; ESV).

“Their own olive tree.” Does it bother you that God’s inspired Word calls it Israel’s tree? You can redefine Israel all you like by turning the olive tree into “the Church,” but I hope it isn’t too long before you see how ridiculous that is. I don’t mean to offend anyone. It’s just that the biblical promises to my people have been misappropriated by most of the Church for far too long.

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version

For the week of April 18, 2026 / 1 Iyar 5786

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Tazria & Metzora
Torah: Vayikra/Leviticus 12:1 – 15:33; B’midbar/Numbers 28:9-15
Haftarah: Isaiah 66:1-24
Originally posted the week of April 22, 2023 / 1 Iyar 5783 (revised and expanded)

For as the new heavens and the new earth that I make shall remain before me, says the LORD, so shall your offspring and your name remain. (Isaiah 66:22)

This week’s Haftarah (portion from the Hebrew Prophets) is special because the new Jewish month begins this week on Shabbat. It is the second of two references in Isaiah to “the new heavens and the new earth” that God will create (the first occurring in Isaiah 65:17). The renewal of the entirety of creation is central to the overall story of the Bible. From the beginning, God determined he would not allow the cursed state of affairs resulting from our first parents’ disobedience to be permanent. From the first hint of restoration in Bereshit/Genesis 3:15, which foretells the eventual destruction of the serpent and all it represented to God’s promise to Abraham in Bereshit/Genesis 12:3, anticipating world-wide blessing (compare Galatians 3:8) to various other prophecies to Israel and their implications for the nations, Isaiah’s summation in terms of universal renewal should be of no surprise.

Contrary to popular misconception, the expectation of the new heavens and new earth was never to be understood as God’s intent to destroy the material realm. Far from it! God was and is committed to his creation project. What is to be destroyed will be all the evil forces that have worked to undermine the essential goodness of God’s plans and purposes. A day is coming when the universe will be fully and forever set right.

To deny God’s intentions for the material realm distracts from an accurate biblical understanding of the world we live in. Biblically minded people may be surprised, if not offended, to be told that our tendency to degrade the creation by denying the God-given goodness of the material realm has contributed to the growing tendency of much of today’s culture in its embrace of nonsense.

We live in a world of design, God’s design. Despite its cursed state, the creation is based on divinely intended principles. Denying these principles denies reality, nonsense in other words. C.S. Lewis, in his book The Problem of Pain, eloquently explains that the only thing that God can’t do is nonsense. He writes:

His [that is, God’s] Omnipotence means power to do all that is intrinsically possible, not to do the intrinsically impossible. You may attribute miracles to him, but not nonsense. There is no limit to His power. If you choose to say “God can give a creature free-will and at the same time withhold free-will from it,” you have not succeeded in saying anything about God: meaningless combinations of words do not suddenly acquire meaning simply because we prefix to them the two other words “God can.” It remains true that all things are possible with God: the intrinsic impossibilities are not things, but nonentities. It is no more possible for God than for the weakest of His creatures to carry out both of two mutually exclusive alternatives; not because His power meets an obstacle, but because nonsense remains nonsense even when we talk it about God.

The universe we live in has both material and non-material aspects. But nonsense doesn’t exist; nor can it.

Yet, that doesn’t stop human beings from pretending that it does. I attribute this phenomenon to the wonderful God-given gift of imagination. Imagination is a key dynamic involved in creativity. It is imagination that enables us to problem solve, to explore possibilities, and to expound the complexities of life and the universe in extraordinary ways. What imagination on its own cannot do is determine what is good and right. When imagination is allowed to run amok, untethered from the realities of our universe, untold destruction is the result.

Asserting “anything is possible” or “you can be anything you want to be” is helpful when facing legitimate injustice or badly perceived obstacles. All sorts of beneficial innovations have been discovered and effectively implemented due to such optimistic attitudes. Accepting our inability to fly was reasonable until someone allowed their imagination to develop flying machines. But to imagine we can fly without such a device is outside the realm of God-established reality. To believe we could would be nonsense. Attempts to do so would result in destruction.

Nonsense has beset the human family from the time Adam and Eve accepted the serpent’s claim that God was lying to them. Whether we ascribe power to idols or believe being rich will make us happy, or that being popular will give us self-esteem, or pretending we were born in the wrong body, nonsense has always set us in a destructive direction.

The establishment of the new heavens and the new earth will mark the time when nonsense will be shown for what it really is. No longer will reality be ignored as God unveils the full essence of his design forever. Until then, we have the opportunity and responsibility to reflect the creation’s destiny by navigating our broken world through the truth of God’s Word, under the forgiveness of the Messiah and the power of the Ruach HaKodesh (English: the Holy Spirit). Imagine that!

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version

For the week of April 11, 2026 / 24 Nisan 5786

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Sh’mini
Torah: Vayikra/Leviticus 9:1 – 11:47
Haftarah: 2 Samuel 6:1 – 7:17
Originally posted the week of April 10, 2021 / 28 Nisan 5781 (revised)

And David and all the house of Israel were celebrating before the LORD, with songs and lyres and harps and tambourines and castanets and cymbals. And when they came to the threshing floor of Nacon, Uzzah put out his hand to the ark of God and took hold of it, for the oxen stumbled. And the anger of the LORD was kindled against Uzzah, and God struck him down there because of his error, and he died there beside the ark of God. (2 Samuel 6:5-7; ESV)

The connection between this week’s parsha (weekly Torah reading portion) and its associated haftarah (excerpt from the Prophets) is very clear. The parsha includes the death of two of Aaron’s sons for their inappropriate offering. The haftarah also includes a death due to a mishandling of one of God’s most specially set-aside objects. It was during David’s first attempt to bring the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem. When the cart upon which it was being transported tipped, a man by the name of Uzzah attempted to stabilize it, and God struck him dead as a result.

The Torah incident doesn’t provide us with the specifics as to what Aaron’s sons did wrong. All we know is that it was, in Hebrew, “zur” (“strange” or “unauthorized”); in other words, outside of that which was prescribed. The context suggests they may have been drunk. We don’t know if that in itself was what was deemed unacceptable and deserving of death, or if drinking led them to make a bad decision.

In the case of the haftarah, however, the reason for the extreme result is much clearer. David had directed his people to transport the Ark in an unauthorized way. Instead of following the Torah protocol of carrying it on poles by Levites, they transported it on an ox cart. We see the acknowledgment of this error sometime later when they resumed the plan; this time in keeping with Torah. The reason for the change of transport method is more explicit in the parallel passage found in 1 Divrei Ha-Yamim/1 Chronicles 15:1–2.

These are two examples of Bible stories that fall into my “don’t like it” category. I am not alone. Aaron, who lost his two sons, was understandably grieved, while David was upset and wouldn’t continue the journey with the Ark until sometime later. Yet, as I struggle with these and other unpleasant incidents in Scripture, I realize that life is full of things that I don’t like.

I have heard statements such as “I could never believe in a god who”—referencing stories like these. It seems to me that such sentiments are loaded with all sorts of additional assumptions. There is likely little to no understanding of the reasons behind such extreme consequences. Plus, little to no acknowledgment or understanding of God’s complex nature, purposes, and plans that could provide the necessary context for such serious consequences.

Whatever one’s relationship is to the God of the Bible, life is full of serious consequences. I am aware that much of such harshness is inexplicable. But, at the same time, how much trouble have we gotten ourselves into because we haven’t taken life as seriously as we ought? At times, this ignorance is at an individual level, as was the case with Aaron’s sons. It appears they should have known better themselves. In Uzzah’s case, he suffered due to the leadership’s irresponsible handling of the situation.

We could learn to accept the way the world God made works, or choose to reject the God who created such an environment for human beings. More and more people insist that we need a type of freedom that ignores the consequences of our actions. Our government may protect and/or mandate all sorts of preferences and/or lifestyles. But that will never change the way things actually work. Not doing things God’s way has serious consequences.

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version

For the week of April 4, 2026 / 17 Nisan 5786

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Pesach
Torah: Shemot/Exodus 13:1-16; B’midbar/Numbers 28:19-25
Haftarah: Ezekiel 36:37 – 37:14
Originally posted the week of April 11, 2020 / 17 Nisan 5780 (revised)

You shall tell your son on that day: It is because of what the LORD did for me when I came out of Egypt. (Shemot/Exodus 13:8)

Pesach (English: Passover) begins this year the evening of Wednesday, April 1. One of the reasons for this annual commemoration of Israel’s freedom from slavery in Egypt is to retain connection from generation to generation, “l’dor vador” as it says in Hebrew. The ritual aspects of the retelling of the exodus from Egypt were designed by God not only to remind subsequent generations of our wonderful, foundational story, but also to intimately bind our descendants to the original event to the extent that they see themselves as actually there when it happened. Every year when celebrating Pesach, we are to say to our children: “It is because of what the Lord did for me when I came out of Egypt.”

But isn’t this statement for the originals only? Would it not be more correct for the children of the released Hebrew slaves to say, “It is because of what the Lord did for my parents when they came out of Egypt”? Understanding oneself as connected to a historical event through one’s ancestors isn’t identical to being there, of course. That’s technically correct, but technicalities of this sort obscure the depth of meaning found in the intense identification the statement demands.

Even technically, we are far more connected to our history than we normally think. However genetics actually work, the experiences of the past indelibly stamp themselves on our psyches. To some extent, we carry the past with us and pass it on to our children, whether they or we are conscious of it. For subsequent generations to benefit from the events of the past, be they good or bad, it’s better to be not only conscious of those events but also to consciously understand them properly.

From the days of Moses and the departure from Egypt, every Jewish person was to regard themselves as a freed slave. To lose that would be to lose the core of our identity and begin to become something we are not.

Retaining connection to this story is not for the Jewish people alone. When Yeshua leveraged his final Pesach observance as the key reference through which his followers would remember him and his sacrifice, he opened the door for everyone, Jewish or otherwise, to recognize the commonality of all peoples. Israel’s oppression in tyrannical Egypt functions as a picture of evil’s oppression of all people. Yeshua’s giving of himself as the supreme Passover Lamb provides freedom to all who trust in him. Just like the Angel of Death passed over those Jewish homes that had applied the Passover lamb’s blood to their doorframes in faith, so God’s judgment passes over anyone, Jewish or not, who figuratively places the Messiah’s blood over themselves by trusting in him.

As we tell the story of our deliverance as inherited from those who have gone before, their story becomes our story. Pesach, as viewed through a messianic lens, reminds us that the God of Israel is the God of deliverance for all. And if we make his deliverance our own, as demonstrated by the exodus and offered to all people through the Messiah Yeshua, we will have the opportunity to tell our children, “This is what the Lord did for me.”

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version

For the week of March 28, 2026 / 10 Nisan 5786

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Tzav
Torah: Vayikra/Leviticus 6:1-8:36 (English 6:8 – 8:36)
Haftarah Malachi 3:4-24 (English: 3:4 – 4:6)

For I the LORD do not change; therefore you, O children of Jacob, are not consumed. (Malachi 3:6)

I understand how difficult it is to grasp God’s covenantal loyalty, his “hesed” in Hebrew. But it isn’t acknowledged—more than that—celebrated, in Scripture for nothing, such the twenty-six times it is repeated in Psalm 136: “Ki l’olam chasdo; his steadfast love endures forever.” However, the difficulty surrounding God’s enduring love isn’t due to some sort of linguistic or conceptual complexity. It’s that we cannot seem to accept that God would commit in this extreme way.

But, no matter how you might feel about it, that’s exactly what he did. When God called Abram in the twelfth chapter of Genesis, he put no conditions on his promises to him of nationhood, blessing, and land. Perhaps the directive to go to the land of Canaan was a condition. If so, that condition was met.

It’s one thing to make unconditional promises; it’s another thing to keep them. But to keep them was never in question, the certainty of which is expressed by God through the prophet Malachi: “For I the LORD do not change; therefore you, O children of Jacob, are not consumed” (Malachi 3:6).

Not being consumed doesn’t mean easy street by any stretch of the imagination. Israel’s chosenness thrust them into the pressure cooker of partnership with God, his plans, and his purposes. God’s spotlight shone upon them, entrusting them with divine truth, but also putting a target on their backs as God’s enemies became their enemies. Bearing the weight of God’s calling, their human nature would be taxed in unique ways. Their frailty and sin would be showcased for all to see.

Their failure—as any other nation would have done—to live up to God’s standards would have consequences, consequences of oppression, exile, and death. By Malachi’s day, they thought they had seen it all. Some, having returned from exile to Babylon, hoping for long-anticipated better days, continued to experience corruption and strife.

Yet, like every other time, whether before or afterwards, they were down, but not out. But why? Why hasn’t Israel ended up, like so many other nations, on the ash heap of history? Why are the children of Jacob not consumed? Because the God of Israel doesn’t change!

God’s unchanging nature is the basis of our confidence in him. Tragically, those who reject God’s enduring faithfulness to Israel don’t realize that if he can’t be trusted to fulfill his promises to Israel as a nation, we have no basis to trust in his enduring faithfulness to us as individuals.

Thankfully, that’s not the case! The unchangeable God is not fickle; he is trustworthy. That’s why we can look at the miracle of the Jewish people’s existence—not just existence, but thriving—despite persecution, exile, and attempted genocide and take heart that whatever we might be going through today, if we have put our trust in the Jewish Messiah, he will see us through.

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version

For the week of March 21, 2026 / 3 Nisan 5786

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Vayikra
Torah: Vayikra/Leviticus 1:1 – 5:26 (English 1:1-6:7)
Haftarah: Isaiah 43:21 – 44:23
Originally posted the week of March 12, 2022 / 9 Adar II 5782 (revised)

The LORD called Moses and spoke to him from the tent of meeting, saying, “Speak to the people of Israel and say to them, When any one of you brings an offering to the LORD, you shall bring your offering of livestock from the herd or from the flock.” (Vayikra/Leviticus 1:1-2)

The directives in Torah regarding sacrifices and offerings are far more concerned about the “what” than the “why.” God, through Moses, was speaking to a culture where animal and other sacrifices were the expected norm. In the Bible, sacrifice dates back to at least Cain and Abel, the sons of Adam and Eve. Some think it goes back further, when God himself provided animal skins to cover Adam and Eve, replacing the skimpy fig leaf “clothes” they made. Regardless, the Bible assumes sacrifice as a primary human activity without explaining why. The lack of a why has not prevented it from being central to many societies throughout human history, and it continues today.

Similar to the “why” question, what does sacrifice do? It appears that many cultures understood it to be a way to appease the gods. It was believed that the gods were behind the challenges of nature. Somehow, the offering up of an animal, often through burning it, transferred it to the domain of the gods. If the gods accepted it, good things would happen. If not, you continued to be a victim of their wrath through drought, famine, floods, and so on.

There are some hints that biblical sacrifice worked in a similar fashion. For example, God speaks of receiving an acceptable sacrifice as a pleasing aroma (e.g., Vayikra/Leviticus 1:9). Vayikra/Leviticus 17:11 teaches that blood is imbued with a certain quality that makes sacrifice effective. Yet, it is very clear that the Bible rejects any sort of mechanical dynamic regarding sacrifice. For if a person’s attitude toward God wasn’t one of humility and genuine honor, the sacrifices would accomplish nothing (e.g., Hosea 6:6). It was never the sacrifices themselves that made the difference. It has always been (and still is) more about how people personally relate to God. Biblically speaking, rituals were always intended to be an outward expression of an inner, personal reality.

The great exception to this is the Messiah. His sacrifice actually made a practical difference by breaking the power of sin in the world. A case could be made that every other genuine, godly sacrifice is a sort of symbolic gesture reflecting the uniqueness of Yeshua’s selfless death.

The call to sacrifice continues despite the effectiveness of Yeshua’s sacrifice. I am not referring to the Old Covenant sacrifices established through Moses, for they are now obsolete in light of the New Covenant prophesied in Jeremiah 31:31-34 and clarified by the Book of Hebrews. Under the New Covenant, the focus on sacrifice shifts from giving up what we own to giving up our very lives. We read,

I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship (Romans 12:1).

Far from attempting to court favor from the gods in order to reap benefits, we give our whole selves out of gratefulness to the one who graciously restored us to himself.

Yeshua called his followers to a lifestyle of sacrifice. He said:

If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it (Matthew 16:24-25).

And yet, these words are often misunderstood to refer to the need to reckon with the great difficulty of following him, as in something like, “Oh, what a heavy cross I bear!” That misses the point. Instead, Yeshua’s directive aligns with the call to be a living sacrifice. Yeshua is saying that his followers must be ready to do God’s will, even if it means giving up our lives, just as he did.

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version