For the week of February 7, 2026 / 20 Shevat 5786

Click image to view video version

Yitro
Torah: Shemot/Exodus 18:1 – 20:23
Haftarah: Isaiah 6:1 – 7:6; 9:5–6
Originally posted the week of January 26, 2019 / 20 Shevat 5779 (revised)

Now I know that the LORD is greater than all gods… (Shemot/Exodus 18:11)

There are different kinds of knowing. In certain contexts, knowing God doesn’t necessarily mean having a personal relationship with him. For the Egyptians to know the God of Israel is to say that they experienced the reality of his character and ability as a result of the incident of the Red Sea. Moses’ father-in-law, Jethro, on the other hand, uses the same word for knowing, yada, differently. He didn’t experience God’s power first-hand as the Egyptians did. Rather, he received this knowledge through Moses’ retelling of the events: “Then Moses told his father-in-law all that the LORD had done to Pharaoh and to the Egyptians for Israel’s sake, all the hardship that had come upon them in the way, and how the LORD had delivered them” (Shemot/Exodus 18:8). Yet simply hearing the stories of what happened had a greater impact on him than the impact of what the Egyptians experienced had had on them. Even though the Egyptians personally experienced the reality of God’s power and observed his favor extended to the Israelites, it made no lasting difference in their lives. Jethro, on the other hand, truly learned something, the realization “that the LORD is greater than all gods.”

We don’t know how far Jethro went with this knowledge. He was a priest of Midian (see Shemot/Exodus 3:1). And yet, following his realization, he brought offerings to God in fellowship with Aaron and the elders of Israel. This is followed by Moses receiving some helpful administrative advice from him. Then he returned home, which is the last we hear of him in the biblical record. Did he forsake the Midianite gods and establish an outpost of Truth outside of the community of Israel? We don’t know. He is regarded as the chief prophet of the Druze religion, but there is no biblical support for this.

Whatever the rest of his life looked like, we do have what he said. Through Moses, he came to know that the God of Israel is greater than all gods. For readers of the Bible, this is the most basic of truths. The God of Israel is God alone. Nothing or no one compares. In fact, other gods are not really gods even though they may be called gods. In some cases, they are figments of people’s imaginations. In other cases, they are demonic or natural forces that are given god-like status. Jethro’s statement appears to reflect the common belief that other so-called gods did exist. Yet, none match the greatness of the God of Israel.

Do you agree with him? In keeping with biblical truth, you may reject the notion of other lesser gods. Still, there are other personal and impersonal forces at work in the world that we encounter every day of our lives. We may or may not think of them as gods or any kind of entity whatsoever, but they do seek to assert power over us. We may call them circumstances and problems, or more positively, opportunities. Endless books have been written to help us overcome negative forces and leverage positive ones to prevent harm and achieve success. Based on how much time, energy, and money we spend engaging with these forces, I sometimes wonder whether we actually believe that God is truly greater.

Depersonalizing the myriad forces in the world doesn’t necessarily reduce their control over our lives. We need to ask: who or what concerns us most in life? Is it money, relationships, our job situation? Maybe it’s ourselves. As I have struggled to truly know God for who he is, I have often lamented over myself as being my greatest problem. That might even be biblical. Don’t we have to put off our old nature, for example? Yes, but when we think that the remnants of ungodliness (or however we may express our issues) have the upper hand, then do we not deny Jethro’s assertion that God is greater?

Whether it be our own selves or any other forces, whenever we assert that they have more power and influence than the good and loving God of the Bible, then we not only ascribe god-like status to them, but we also elevate them above the One whom we claim to worship. And speaking of worship, focusing on these forces in the way we do, whether cowering under their threats or overly investing in them for our benefit, that’s worship.

We don’t know what Jethro did with his realization “that the LORD is greater than all gods.” Perhaps he had a wonderful spiritual experience with Moses and company, and then, after going home, it was business as usual. But what about you and me? If we know that God is greater than every other force in life, is it going to be business as usual? The same old patterns, the same old fears, the same old tactics? Or are we going to make the appropriate adjustments and live life based on the truth that God is greater than all gods?

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version

For the week of January 31, 2026 / 13 Shevat 5786

Click image to view video version

Beshalach
Torah: Shemot/Exodus 13:17 – 17:16
Haftarah: Shoftim/Judges 4:4 – 5:31
Originally posted the week of January 23, 2016 / 13 Shevat 5776 (revised)

The LORD said to Moses, “Why do you cry to me? Tell the people of Israel to go forward.” (Shemot/Exodus 14:15)

This week’s message is not for everyone. I guess that’s always true, but there’s something about this one in particular that should probably be ignored altogether if it doesn’t apply to you. But if it does, you don’t want to miss it! So, here goes!

The people of Israel were between a rock and a hard place, metaphorically speaking. They were actually between an impassable body of water and the Egyptian army, which was keen to drag them back to Egypt. An interesting interchange ensues between Moses and God. Well, actually, it’s not an interchange. The people freak out, thinking that they are about to be slaughtered. Moses reassures them, but then God tells Moses what to do, contradicting him in the process. Let’s look at this more closely.

Moses said to the people: “Fear not, stand firm, and see the salvation of the LORD, which he will work for you today. For the Egyptians whom you see today, you shall never see again. The LORD will fight for you, and you have only to be silent” (Shemot/Exodus 14:13-14). Based on everything Moses knew about God up to that moment—his character, his power, and his methodology—this sounds so right. Moses knew how fundamentally misguided the people’s freak-out was. God didn’t bring them to this point only to abandon them. Moses knew that he was leading them to Mount Sinai and on to the Promised Land. So, this couldn’t be the end. How God would rescue them, he didn’t know, but after all that had happened with the ten plagues and a reasonable analysis of the situation, Moses concluded that all Israel had to do was stand and do nothing. God would take care of the situation. All by himself.

But with all due respect to Moses, he was wrong. They were not just to stand there; they were to “go forward.” I know Moses was also told: “Lift up your staff, and stretch out your hand over the sea and divide it, that the people of Israel may go through the sea on dry ground” (Shemot/Exodus 14:16), but the people were not to wait for the sea to part first, but rather they were to march toward the sea.

God was calling the people to readjust their orientation to the situation. He had called them to journey in a certain direction, which required getting to the other side of the water. But instead, they were frozen by fear. They needed to refocus and get with God’s program again.

Note that God was not calling them into the water before it parted. He might call people to do that from time to time, but not in this case. They simply had to move in its direction. He also didn’t order them to turn around and confront the enemy nipping at their heels. The day would come when Israel would engage in battle, but not now. In this situation, they were to go forward.

I remember a situation I was in when I was called to go forward. It was nowhere near as drastic as what the Israelites were facing. But for me, at the time, the dynamic was similar. I was at a large leaders’ conference, a pretty intense time of seeking God. I was privileged to be part of the core group tasked with discerning direction for the various meetings. I was new to such things and probably a little too excited about it all. In one of the core group meetings, I had a real burden about something, but once I finally had a chance to speak up, I got the impression (right or wrong) that I was out of line. I felt absolutely terrible and embarrassed. I went to my hotel room, not wanting to show my face in public again (I am being only a little overdramatic!). As I called out to the Lord in my fear and confusion, I had the clear sense that I needed to “go forward.” That meant joining the others to face whatever might happen, whatever they might think of me, whatever reprimand I might receive—whatever. I had no guarantee of how God would deal with the scary elements ahead. I had to face them. And as I did, nothing I feared came to pass. My sea had parted as I went forward.

Is God directing you to go forward? Then, you must walk towards the very thing you think will be your complete undoing. But as you do, God will enable you to walk through it as if it is not really there, just like the Israelites walked through on dry ground. He may even obliterate the threat at your back at the same time, just like the drowned Egyptians.

But as I mentioned at the start, this is only for those for whom it applies. God may have an altogether different tactic for you. Maybe you are to stand, to fight, or something else. Just don’t be surprised if God is telling you to go forward.

Scripture taken from English Standard Version

For the week of January 24, 2026 / 6 Shevat 5786

Click image to view video version

Bo
Torah: Shemot/Exodus 10:1 – 13:16
Haftarah: Jeremiah 46:13-28
Originally posted the week of January 24, 2015 / 4 Shevat 5775 (revised)

Then the LOED said to Moses, “Go in to Pharaoh, for I have hardened his heart and the heart of his servants, that I may show these signs of mine among them, and that you may tell in the hearing of your son and of your grandson how I have dealt harshly with the Egyptians and what signs I have done among them, that you may know that I am the LORD.” (Shemot/Exodus 10:1-3)

Last week and this week, the parashot (Torah reading portions) contain an extensive display of God’s power, commonly known as the ten plagues. You might be surprised to learn that the word “plague” (or more literally “strike”) is hardly used to describe these events. Throughout the Bible, the more common description is “signs” and “wonders” (see Shemot/Exodus 7:3, D’varim/Deuteronomy 6:2, Nehemiah 9:10, T’hillim/Psalm 135:9, and Jeremiah 32:20).

Generally speaking, signs are designed to communicate something. A traffic sign informs drivers and pedestrians of crucial information to control their behavior. Responding properly to a sign brings great benefit to those for whom it is intended. Failure to respect signs causes great trouble to ourselves and others.

Wonders are extraordinary events, commonly called miracles. But the way we normally understand miracles may not reflect the biblical concept of wonders. If miracles are a way to describe God’s work in the world, rather than when he is not, then we are not thinking biblically. According to the Bible, God not only created the universe, but he also sustains it. God is at work in and through every aspect of life. There’s a well-known miracle story about George Müller, who established orphanages in Great Britain in the nineteenth century. It is said that one day, there was no food for the approximately 300 orphans in his care. So Müller gathered everyone at mealtime as usual and thanked God for his provision anyway. Not long afterwards, a baker and a milkman, each for unusual reasons, came by with offers of bread and milk respectively. If by calling this a miracle, you mean that God wasn’t involved when food was provided in normal, usual ways, then you are distorting the reality of God’s ongoing role of provider.

But if God is always the provider, whatever the means of provision he uses, then would it not be better to call every act of provision a miracle? This misses the point regarding signs and wonders. Even though God is involved in either case, there is a difference between the ordinary and the extraordinary. Recognizing God at work in life in general is essential, but not everything is a sign and a wonder. I have attended more births than most non-medical people, having been present for all ten of our children. My wife and I tend to refer to these events as miracles, as we have been so struck by the wonder of it all. But despite how precious each baby is, births are ordinary, not extraordinary, events – as is the growth of a flower, the roar of ocean waves, or the twinkling of a star.

This is not to diminish the awe we should have towards the ordinary. We should be in ongoing awe of the glory of creation. Every aspect of physics, chemistry, biology, and the ways they work together is worthy of our praising God. It’s that if we think of everything that God does as a miracle, then we will miss the significance of his actual and intended signs and wonders.

Following the Exodus, the people of Israel faced many conflicts with other nations. Of the battles they won, it was because God was with them. Most of the time, Israel used ordinary means of battle. But on a few occasions, God used extraordinary methods that wouldn’t normally produce the results they did, such as the fall of Jericho under Joshua, the defeat of the Midianites under Gideon, or the routing of the Philistines under Jonathan, son of King Saul. It’s the same with the provision of food. Usually, God uses the ordinary means of farming to feed people. On occasion, he uses extraordinary means through signs and wonders.

Many people get excited about miracles as if they are proof of God’s existence. But that is not the purpose of signs and wonders. According to Scripture, creation is the evidence for God (see Tehillim/Psalm 19:2 [English: 19:1]; Romans 1:20). Signs and wonders, on the other hand, have their own particular purpose. As signs, they bring a message. The ten plagues, for example, reveal God’s supremacy over the Egyptian false gods, his distinction between his people and others, and his affirmation of Moses’ leadership. As wonders, they help make these signs significant. Ordinary events by their nature are not going to communicate anything special. Extraordinary events get attention. And when they are accompanied by God’s Word, as was the case through Moses, they powerfully and effectively reveal God’s truth.

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version

Click image to view video version

Va’era
For the week of January 17, 2026 / 28 Tevet 5786
Torah: Shemot/Exodus 6:2 – 9:35
Haftarah: Ezekiel 28:25 – 29:21

Moses spoke thus to the people of Israel, but they did not listen to Moses, because of their broken spirit and harsh slavery. (Shemot/Exodus 6:9)

We live in a world of communication. In fact, according to the Bible, the universe began with communication: “And God said…” and there was! Our first parents were then instructed on how to fulfill their very reason for being. Despite their failure to adhere to God’s word sufficiently, God has continued to speak. His communication is chiefly called “torah,” which is best understood as “teaching” or “direction.” While the standard translation “law” isn’t wrong on its own, it doesn’t capture torah’s essence as God’s equipment for effective, godly living (see 2 Timothy 3:16–17).

It might be difficult to fathom that God would create a world in which his representative creatures would not automatically obey his instructions. Not only that, but our lack of adherence has resulted in all sorts of terrible things. We could lament this tragedy, or instead do our best to understand it for what it is and discover how best to recover from, or at least cope with, such misguided, destructive behavior.

So many of those who rightfully emphasize God’s sovereign oversight of the universe may be slow to fully appreciate the dynamic of human interaction with God, both positive and negative. We know that God didn’t make robots, but we struggle to grasp how autonomous beings could live under the rule of such a divine being, however autonomous we may be. But the sooner we accept the realities of life through God’s perspective as revealed through his Word, the sooner we can learn to live life according to his design.

In this week’s parsha (Torah reading portion), we see how the people of Israel suffered under a tyrannical regime for many long years before God sent Moses to rescue them. When Moses first explained God’s rescue plan to them, we read:

And the people believed; and when they heard that the Lord had visited the people of Israel and that he had seen their affliction, they bowed their heads and worshiped. (Shemot/Exodus 4:31)

However, it wouldn’t be too long before their hopes were dashed. Pharaoh’s response to Moses’ demand for release was to make their work more onerous than before. When Moses confronted God over this unexpected, adverse reaction, God assured Moses that everything would work out. God’s reassurance was satisfactory to Moses, but not to the people. In fact, according to Shemot/Exodus 6:10, they wouldn’t even listen to him, “because of their broken spirit and harsh slavery.”

Have you ever been there, be it in relationship to God or to others? Have you ever been at a place in your life where you could no longer receive a word of encouragement? Have you ever been so crushed in spirit that hope seemed like nothing more than a fantasy? As you tried to look ahead, there was only darkness. So can we blame these people for shutting down, when so many of us have been in that exact same place? And let’s ask the question, when it is that we can no longer hear words of encouragement from God or others, is it because we can’t or won’t? Is it our suffering that has deafened us, or do we have our fingers in our ears?

King Solomon wisely said: “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a desire fulfilled is a tree of life” (Mishlei/Proverbs 13:12). Certainly, long-term disappointment has a debilitating effect on the core of our being, but does that excuse us from stubbornly refusing to receive good news when it finally reaches us? Will we allow resentment and anger to keep us in bondage forever, or will we avail ourselves of the offer of help? Are you listening?

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version

For the week of January 10, 2026 / 21 Tevet 5786

Click image to view video version

Shemot
Torah: Shemot/Exodus 1:1 – 6:1
Haftarah: Isaiah 27:6 – 28:13; 29:22-23
Originally posted the week of January 9, 2021 / 25 Tevet 5781 (revised)

Now Moses was keeping the flock of his father-in-law, Jethro, the priest of Midian, and he led his flock to the west side of the wilderness and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. And the angel of the LORD appeared to him in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush. He looked, and behold, the bush was burning, yet it was not consumed. And Moses said, “I will turn aside to see this great sight, why the bush is not burned.” When the LORD saw that he turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.” (Shemot/Exodus 3:1-4)

Moses’ encounter with God at the burning bush is one of the most crucial interchanges between God and human beings. It is here that God conscripts Moses to lead his people, Israel, out of oppressive bondage and into the land promised to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Under Moses’ leadership, God would demonstrate his power to Israel, Egypt, and the world. Moses was also to be the channel through whom God’s Torah (his teaching, his direction) would be revealed.

One particular aspect of this encounter is often overlooked. In the Bible, God engages people in a variety of ways. Most of the time, when we read that he speaks, there is no reference to the actual dynamics of the communication. Other times, we are told that it is through a dream or a vision. The burning bush is unique, not only in that it’s the only time God speaks through a plant, burning or otherwise, but also because of the role Moses played. Going about his usual daily activities as a shepherd, this unusual sight catches his eye. Moses decides to check it out. It is only when Moses gives his attention to it that God calls to him.

Moses’ curiosity drew him into this life-changing experience. He could have just as easily not noticed. How often are we so focused on ourselves and whatever we are going through at the time that extraordinary opportunities pass us by without our realizing it? Sometimes it’s not so much that we are distracted, it’s that we are oblivious. Life has ceased to arouse our interest. I say, “has ceased,” because curiosity is natural to most of us as children until, for one reason or another, the wonder of the universe is lost to us. Perhaps curiosity got us into trouble. It may have resulted in injury or blame, leading us to conclude that it is better to live life with blinders on. Good thing Moses didn’t become like that.

Many years ago, I read the classic “Confessions” by Augustine of Hippo, written about 1,600 years ago. At the time, I was troubled by his depiction of curiosity in negative terms as one of life’s great temptations. To him, curiosity was a craving after knowledge and experience for its own sake, but this presupposes a warped understanding of the world in which we live. Curiosity may kill the cat, as the proverb says, but the craving that leads to trouble is not the curiosity itself, but sinful desires hijacking an essential God-given quality.

How many burning bushes are we missing because we are no longer curious? There is far more going on around us than we think. God is working to fulfill his purposes in the world. He longs for us to be part of that. But are we paying attention? Or are we so wrapped up in our current life situation that we don’t notice that something’s burning?

The Messiah directed us to pray, “Your kingdom come. Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” (Matthew 6:10)—a transformative process that God wants me and you to be part of. Exactly how, I can’t say. But aren’t you curious?

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version

For the week of January 3, 2026 / 14 Tevet 5786

Click image to view video version

Vayechi
Torah: Bereshit/Genesis 47:28 – 50:26
Haftarah: 1 Melachim/1 Kings 2:1–12

When Joseph’s brothers saw that their father was dead, they said, “It may be that Joseph will hate us and pay us back for all the evil that we did to him.” So they sent a message to Joseph, saying, “Your father gave this command before he died: ‘Say to Joseph, “Please forgive the transgression of your brothers and their sin, because they did evil to you.”’ And now, please forgive the transgression of the servants of the God of your father.” Joseph wept when they spoke to him. His brothers also came and fell down before him and said, “Behold, we are your servants.” But Joseph said to them, “Do not fear, for am I in the place of God? As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today. So do not fear; I will provide for you and your little ones.” Thus he comforted them and spoke kindly to them. (Genesis 50:15-21)

By posting this message, I am forcing myself to face a tough personal challenge. Through the years, I have given much thought to Joseph’s extraordinary perspective on his life, particularly his understanding of God’s workings amidst his brother’s jealous betrayal. It’s not surprising that despite his kindness in providing for them and their families in Egypt, they felt insecure, determining they needed to fabricate a message from their now deceased father to protect themselves from Joseph’s long-anticipated vengeance.

And yet, he responded with, “Do not fear, for am I in the place of God? As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today” (Bereshit/Genesis 50:19–20). Joseph’s grappling with the dynamic of God’s goodness in the midst of suffering caused by his brothers was not just philosophically and theologically insightful; it informed his attitude and actions. Instead of being controlled by a tremendous amount of resentment, he was able to relate to them with love and compassion. While not excusing their wrongs, his awareness of God’s benevolent workings through it all defined his relationship to them.

Whenever I have thought about my own life in light of this story, it’s been from the perspective of after the fact. In my message, The Other Side of the Coin, I discuss how God has helped me many times to discover how he had been working things out for good in the midst of very difficult life circumstances. In these cases, it was only many years later that I realized God’s goodness had been at work all along. I cannot overstate my gratitude for finally recognizing God’s loving hand. These revelations have revolutionized my life in such a positive way!

Be that as it may, perhaps there is something even more critical for me (and maybe you) to learn from Joseph’s story. While it’s wonderful to look back at hard times and finally see God’s positive orientation towards me, maybe it’s time I allowed myself to look forward to the future while grasping God’s same positive orientation.

I certainly have had enough life experience since first coming to know Yeshua to face potential hardships with confidence. But I don’t think past experiences are sufficient to base my future on. But that’s besides the point, since we do have something we can fully count on: the Scriptures. Here are some examples.

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want (Psalm 23:1).

For the LORD God is a sun and shield; the Lord bestows favor and honor. No good thing does he withhold from those who walk uprightly (Psalm 84:11).

If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him! (Matthew 7:11)

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose (Romans 8:28).

He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? (Romans 8:32)

Joseph’s experience predates these verses by centuries. It’s possible that his life example actually helped inform these statements. Whether or not it did, it’s about time it informed me. And while my experiences are not the stuff of Scripture, they are still evidence that the Scriptures are true. The goodness of God is operative in the midst of whatever I am going through. Therefore, it’s about time I lived accordingly. What about you?

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version

For the week of December 27, 2025 / 7 Tevet 5786

Click image to view video version

Vayigash
Torah: Bereshit/Genesis 44:18 – 47:27
Haftarah: Ezekiel 37:15-28
Originally posted the week of December 15, 2018 / 7 Tevet 5779 (revised)

And he wept aloud, so that the Egyptians heard it, and the household of Pharaoh heard it.
(Bereshit/Genesis 45:2)

Sometime in my late teens, I stopped crying. That’s not to say that up until then, I was crying nonstop. I had lost the ability to cry. All children cry. It’s our automatic, God-given survival mechanism. As we get older, most of us learn to control the tears and express our needs and disappointments in other ways. In many cultures, males are discouraged from crying at all. “Big boys don’t cry,” we’re told; so we stop. But that’s not why I did. It’s not as if my parents taught me such a thing. I remember seeing my father cry on more than one occasion, and there was no shame in that. Despite that, I distinctly remember that by the time I was eighteen years old, I could feel a constant need to cry lodged in my throat. It was awful.

My life was awful. My father had abandoned my mother and me a few years before. By this time, my mother was not well enough to work, forcing us to turn to government assistance. I had no direction in life. I was very superstitious. I thought success was measured by degrees of pleasure. And I had developed an inordinate fear of death.

Everything about my life was out of sorts. I had no clear vision of what it should or could be. Wrapped in a shroud of confusion and fear, I was stuck just like the lump in my throat. Then, a few days before my nineteenth birthday, my life was transformed by my first encounter with the truth of Yeshua as Messiah. As I reached out to God that day, I had no idea I was embarking on an amazing Great Adventure. But no tears, just smiles.

In those early months of my newfound faith, I experienced a happiness I had never dreamt of. I was ecstatic, and people could see it all over me. The next few months were exhilarating despite the new tensions and relationship strains from the unusual path I was on. Still, no tears.

A year after coming to faith, I left home for biblical studies. Leaving home brought with it renewed anxiety as I began to face some of my entrenched insecurities and fears. As I woke up one morning in my dorm room, I was fiercely struggling with I don’t really know what. I was not doing well and didn’t know what to do. I was alone in my room. My roommate had a small (for those days) stereo and a few Gospel albums. I didn’t listen to a lot of music back then, since music had been one of my gods during my Bad Old Days. I don’t know why I put the album on. Then something happened as the singing started. The faucet opened! I was shocked, as for the first time in I don’t know how long, I cried and cried. It felt so good! And while the lump would return from time to time, eventually so would the tears, as God has allowed me to express myself in this way.

It’s hard to say for sure what it was about that moment that released all that pent-up emotion. I can guess, because I have had similar experiences since. It hasn’t always been with a song, but when I get a glimpse of the essence of life’s reality, it’s as if in that moment I see things as they really are, that amidst the confusion and chaos of my life, God really is my security, and everything will be okay after all. When that truth hits me, I am undone as all the tension of the insecurity I feel from the instability and pressures around me is released in an emotional torrent.

Perhaps that is something akin to what Joseph experienced when he was finally reconciled with his brothers. We can’t overestimate the emotional turmoil he must have borne all those years. We shouldn’t assume his rise to power in Egypt completely soothed the confusion, anger, and sadness he carried for so long. The emotions must have built to volcanic proportions during the process of revealing himself. For his own reasons, he shrewdly dealt with his brothers as they travelled back and forth to Egypt for food, all the while not knowing he was their brother. Then, when he deemed the time was right, all that pent-up emotion flowed so freely that everyone around knew he was weeping.

I am aware that there are many people, men included, who cry like freely flowing fountains. If that’s you, then you probably have no trouble relating to Joseph. You might be crying right now. Then there are the others. Maybe you have an incessant lump in your throat, as I had. Perhaps you have buried your emotions for so long that you can’t feel them anymore. I don’t know what it will take to release all you have stuffed inside. But I wanted to tell you: it’s alright to cry.

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version

For the week of December 20, 2025 / 30 Kislev 5786

Click image to view video version

Miketz, Hanukkah, & Rosh Hodesh
Torah: Bereshit/Genesis 41:1 – 44:17; B’midbar/Numbers 28:9–15, 7:42–53
Haftarah: Zechariah: 2:14 – 4:7 (English: 2:10 – 4:7)

And Pharaoh said to his servants, “Can we find a man like this, in whom is the Spirit of God?” (Bereshit/Genesis 41:38)

The dominant Hanukkah theme is light (Hanukkah this year occurs from Sunday evening, December 14, through December 22). It might surprise you to learn that the light theme doesn’t originate from the legend of the miraculous provision of oil, which likely didn’t happen, but from the altar rededication celebration that was patterned after the eight-day feast of Sukkot (English: Booths), which probably hadn’t happened that year due to the desecration of the Temple by the pagan oppressors. By that time, kindling great lights in Jerusalem had become part of the Sukkot observance. Referencing Hanukkah as the “Festival of Lights” is first recorded by the Jewish historian Josephus in the first century CE.

Despite the lack of evidence for the oil miracle, it’s fitting that light is still a central theme of Hanukkah. Dark assimilating forces were having their way in Israel at that time. Throughout history, despite our supposed disdain for tyrannical despots, people have welcomed various forms of empire-building. We prefer to go along with the latest popular thing, rather than fully embrace our unique ethnic and individual diversity in the way God designed us.

In contrast to the prevailing mood of their day, the Maccabees bravely shone the light of God, leading the people of Israel back to their unique, God-given destiny to stand out as lights in a dark world.

According to this week’s parsha (weekly Torah reading), Joseph, too, was such a light. After enduring years of darkness due to his brothers’ jealous betrayal, he became an illuminating force not only in Egypt but also throughout the region, including to his own extended family, who had been destined to be the light of the world. His willingness to be used by God in interpreting Pharaoh’s dreams and his graciousness in arranging for the migration of his clan to Egypt were enormous blessings.

The brilliance of God’s light through Joseph was so great that Pharaoh, who didn’t know the God of Israel, recognized it. But what was it that he recognized? He indeed encountered the true light of the true God. He said to his servants, “Can we find a man like this, in whom is the Spirit of God?” (Bereshit/Genesis 41:38). Yet, as an Egyptian king, his allegiance was to other gods, false gods. When most of us read “God” here, I am guessing that we assume he is referring to the Bible God, the only God, the creator God, Joseph’s God, the God of Israel. But as an Egyptian king, he wouldn’t have had such an understanding. The Hebrew word translated as “God” here is elohim, which is actually a generic term used for both the one and only God and other gods as well. To Pharaoh, divine power was at work in Joseph, expressing itself in a most effective way.

Even though Pharaoh was not thinking of God the way the Scriptures assert, almost all English translations represent elohim here as “God,” with a capital “G,” which is the conventional way English expresses “the true God.” The only exception I can find so far is in the New American Standard family of translations that use “divine spirit” (all in lower case), which is much closer to Pharaoh’s intent.

While Pharaoh’s theology was ill-informed, he wasn’t entirely wrong. Even though he didn’t know the true God, Joseph’s God, he recognized the illuminating power of genuine prophetic insight. While Pharaoh didn’t fully understand the true source of light at work through Joseph, the divine power he recognized was that of the only true God. This might explain why so many English translations use “God” with a capital “G.”

However, his reference to elohim was not the true elohim. Pharaoh’s valid recognition of the reality of God in this case doesn’t in any way authenticate his spirituality. Since the one true God, the God of Israel, is also the universal God, any encounter with his reality is legitimate, even though a failure to associate his power with his person would skew an accurate perception of his identity. This is all to say that the use of the capital “G” is misleading. Pharoah did recognize the true divine power of the one and only God, but didn’t understand him as such.

Pharaoh’s inability to recognize the God of Israel would one day lead Israel into the darkness of bondage in Egypt until the light of God’s deliverance through Moses would dawn. As we celebrate Hanukkah this year, let us not only remember the miraculous victory of the Maccabees but also the call to illuminate the darkness around us with the brilliance of the truth of God’s Word.

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

For the week of December 13, 2025 / 23 Kislev 5786

Click image to view video version

Vayeshev
Torah: Bereshit/Genesis 37:1-40:23
Haftarah: Amos 2:6-3:8
Originally posted the week of December 24, 2016 / 24 Kislev 5777 (updated)

The keeper of the prison paid no attention to anything that was in Joseph’s charge, because the LORD was with him. And whatever he did, the LORD made it succeed. (Bereshit/Genesis 39:23)

The story of Joseph is full of twists and turns. Father’s favorite, dreams of supposed grandeur, facing murderous hatred from his brothers, sold into slavery instead of being killed, father Jacob deceived by brothers as to Joseph’s fate (not sure if Jacob ever believed them), greatly respected and trusted by master, remains faithful to God in the face of master’s wife’s seduction, framed by master’s wife resulting in imprisonment, put in charge of prisoners, accurately interprets two prisoners’ dreams, later interprets Pharaoh’s dreams resulting in release and being made second-in-command over Egypt, brothers come to buy food from Joseph due to predicted famine, eventually reconciles with his brothers and settles his whole clan in Egypt, remains free from bitterness throughout.

There is one twist in the story that is easy to miss, however. It has to do with Potiphar, Joseph’s Egyptian master, the husband of the seductress. It strikes me as strange that Joseph wasn’t executed for his alleged crime. It is doubtful that the ancient Egyptian legal system would limit the penalty for attempted rape by a slave to imprisonment. When Potiphar heard the accusation against Joseph, we read “his anger was kindled” (39:19). But why? And with whom was he angry? We reasonably assume that he was furious at Joseph for attempted rape, but if his anger were directed at Joseph, then, as I mentioned, one would think he would have been executed, which he wasn’t. Besides that, it doesn’t seem to be too long that we find Joseph having favor with the keeper of the prison, who put him in charge of the other prisoners (39:21-23). But who was the keeper of the prison? Later in the story, when we are introduced to fellow prisoners (Pharaoh’s baker and cupbearer), whose dreams eventually lead to Joseph’s being revealed to Pharaoh, we are told that the prison was in the house of the captain of the guard. It was the captain of the guard who put Joseph in charge (40:3-4). And the captain of the guard is no other than Potiphar (37:36; 39:1)!

Perhaps Potiphar had mercy on Joseph because he thought so highly of him. That certainly had been the case, but why would he continue to have such high regard for a slave who so abused his master’s trust by doing one of the two things expressly forbidden to him (39:6, 9)? We cannot say absolutely for sure, because the Scripture doesn’t spell it out for us, but I propose that Potiphar knew his wife well enough to know that Joseph was indeed innocent.

But if that’s the case, then why did he not let him off the hook? My guess is there’s no way Potiphar could take sides against his wife, and especially not on behalf of a slave. So, the best he could come up with was imprisonment in his own dungeon, while giving Joseph as much freedom and responsibility in that horrible environment as he could.

If anyone knew that life isn’t fair, it was Joseph. He didn’t do anything to deserve such treatment, but suffered yet again—this time due to his master’s dysfunctional family. It could have been worse had he been executed—not only for him (though he may have wished for death on more than one occasion)—but for his family of origin, whom he would one day save, not to mention that the Plan of God for the entire world was riding on his prophesied destiny.

You might wonder if it was really necessary for Joseph’s life to take all these twists and turns. Could not God have preserved the fledgling nation of Israel without all this intrigue and suffering? Did Jacob’s family really have to move to Egypt? If so, was there no other way to get them there? Did Joseph have to endure hateful jealousy, slavery, wrongful accusation, and confinement in a dungeon? Was there no other way to install him as Prime Minister in Egypt? The more I look at it, I don’t think so. Each and every twist and turn appears to contribute something essential to the outcome. I am not saying that every single thing that happened to Joseph absolutely had to happen in exactly that way. But certainly, every difficult, confusing, painful, and unjust situation and circumstance was not wasted.

It’s the same for you and me. Life can be really crazy at times. Disappointing. Frustrating. Discouraging. But God knows what he is doing. And however he does it, whether by orchestrating every plot twist or walking with us around every turn, he has promised his children that he would be with us (see Matthew 28:20) and work everything out for our good (Romans 8:28). He knows what he is doing!

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

For the week of December 6, 2025 / 16 Kislev 5786

Click image to view video version

Vayishlach
Torah: Bereshit/Genesis 32:4 – 36:43 (English: 32:3 – 36:43)
Haftarah: Hosea 11:7 – 12:12

And Jacob said, “O God of my father Abraham and God of my father Isaac, O LORD who said to me, ‘Return to your country and to your kindred, that I may do you good,’ I am not worthy of the least of all the deeds of steadfast love and all the faithfulness that you have shown to your servant, for with only my staff I crossed this Jordan, and now I have become two camps. Please deliver me from the hand of my brother, from the hand of Esau, for I fear him, that he may come and attack me, the mothers with the children. But you said, ‘I will surely do you good, and make your offspring as the sand of the sea, which cannot be numbered for multitude.’” (Bereshit/Genesis 32:10–13; English 32:9–12)

I would guess that, encountering this week’s title, “Blessed Fear,” apart from the accompanying verses, many biblically minded people would immediately think of Mishlie/Proverbs 1:7: “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge” or 9:10: “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom.” We don’t usually think of fear as a blessed thing, though we’re aware of the benefit of what we might call “healthy fear,” the emotion which, when heeded effectively, prevents us from unnecessary harm. That’s why most of us have learned not to play with matches, for example. But blessed fear? This is where the verses in Mishlei prove helpful. This is similar to healthy fear, for it’s this kind of fear that helps us not to treat God lightly and to show him appropriate respect.

However, this is not the type of fear I am talking about here. In this week’s parsha (weekly Torah reading portion), Jacob is returning to the Promised Land after about twenty years of living in Mesopotamia, where his mother was from. He had run away after tricking his father, Isaac, in order to acquire the blessing that normally would have been given to the firstborn, his twin brother Esau. This infuriated his brother, who vowed to kill him. After building a sizeable family and acquiring much livestock, he fell out of favor with his father-in-law, Laban. In the midst of this challenging situation, God called him back to Canaan. And so, he went, along with his wives, children, and livestock (see Bereshit/Genesis 31:1–3). On the way, he got word that Esau was heading his way with four hundred men. This is what led him to pray the prayer I quoted at the beginning. Jacob’s motive for praying such a prayer is stated in the request he makes, “Please deliver me from the hand of my brother, from the hand of Esau, for I fear him” (Bereshit/Genesis 32:12; English 32:9–11).

This is not Jacob’s first recorded interaction with God, but it is his first direct request, a request that results in one of the most dramatic, powerful, life-changing, and instructive encounters with God in all of Scripture, when he wrestles with God. It is this encounter that fundamentally transforms Jacob, and God changes his name to “Israel” (see Bereshit/Genesis 32:29; English 32:28). I don’t know whether it’s correct to say that Jacob’s transformation depended on his request, but his request did lead to this significant biblical and historical development.

But what was it that prompted his request? Fear. Fear isn’t exactly the most impressive emotion. We don’t like being afraid, and we don’t like it when we see it in others. We might empathize with others when they are afraid, but still, we regard it as a weakness. And much of the time it is. But it can also be a blessing.

Jacob was a brilliant strategist. He knew what he wanted and knew how to get it—until he didn’t. After many years of getting the upper hand in many situations, he had exhausted all his personal resources, and he was terrified. Yet, that wasn’t the end of the story. Despite his being in a most desperate situation, or should I say, because he was in a most desperate situation, he turned to the only one who was able to help him. He called out to God, who heard his prayer, and came through in a most remarkable way. His fear drove him to God.

It’s in cases such as this that fear can be a tool that reminds us of our need for God. We are afraid, because we rely on ourselves or on things that are insufficient for the challenges at hand. But if we use fear to sound the alarm against self-reliance and as a call for seeking the God of Israel, the result will be blessing.

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version