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

For the week of March 14, 2026 / 25 Adar 5786

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Vayakhel & Pekudei
Torah: Shemot/Exodus 35:1 – 40:38; & Shemot/Exodus 12:1-20
Haftarah: Ezekiel 45:16-46
Originally posted the week of March 25, 2017 / 27 Adar 5777 (revised)

Then the cloud covered the tent of meeting, and the glory of the LORD filled the tabernacle. And Moses was not able to enter the tent of meeting because the cloud settled on it, and the glory of the LORD filled the tabernacle. (Shemot/Exodus 40:34-35)

This week’s parsha (English: Torah portion) is a high point in Scripture. After many chapters describing the design and construction of the mishkan (English: tabernacle), it is finally completed. God responds to this by filling the mishkan with his kavod (English: glory). God’s glory in this context refers to a visible manifestation of himself, denoting his presence in a very real way. God was tangibly showing the people of Israel that he was with them. While God is everywhere in the universe in one sense, this demonstrated that he was uniquely making himself known in and through Israel alone.

Every aspect of the development of Israel’s national life, as revealed by God through Moses, had to do with maintaining his glory among them. From the sacrificial system to personal intimacy; from agricultural techniques to hygiene; from business practices to treatment of people with special needs—everything that God commanded was because he, the Master of the Universe, dwelt among them.

In the centuries that followed, Israel risked losing God’s glory. Eventually, this tragically occurred during the Babylonian captivity, as recorded in the eighth through eleventh chapters of the prophet Ezekiel. Contrary to what many people think, the loss of God’s presence was not due to Israel’s moral imperfections. God had made provision in the Sinai Covenant for wrongs committed. The glory departed due to long-term rebellion against God as expressed mainly through idolatry. In other words, Israel had rejected God. But that is not the end of the story. Ezekiel, Isaiah, and the other Hebrew prophets predicted over and over again that God’s glory—his presence—would return to Israel. The restoration of God’s presence was guaranteed to Israel based upon his earlier unconditional and eternal promises to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

By the end of the writing of the Hebrew Scriptures, God’s glory had not yet returned. As prophesied by Jeremiah and decreed by the Persian King Cyrus, many Jewish people returned. They resettled the land and rebuilt both the temple and Jerusalem. But the nation continued in a state best described as tentative. On the one hand, during this period, God was with them—there would not have been a return otherwise—but not to the extent the prophets anticipated. For most of the time from the return until the destruction of the second temple in the year 70, Israel continued under foreign rule, a sure sign that all was not right between them and God. Where was the promised Messiah?

It was not until Yeshua’s coming that the light of God’s glory began to appear on the horizon again. Those who believed him to be the Messiah rightly understood that, according to the prophetic writings, Yeshua’s arrival indicated that God himself was returning to dwell among them.

This time, however, it would not be in the form of a cloud filling the temple, but something much greater. Through Yeshua’s sacrifice, his defeat of death by the resurrection, and his return to the heavenly temple to sit at God’s right hand, he poured out the Ruach Hakodesh, the Holy Spirit, upon those who placed their trust in him. Now the glory of God would not live in a tent or a building, but rather in people. The glory of the God of Israel has returned as promised, taking up residence in and among all those who truly entrust themselves to Yeshua the Messiah.

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version

For the week of March 7, 2026 / 18 Adar 5786

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Ki Tisa & Parah
Shemot/Exodus 30:11 – 34:35; B’midbar/Numbers 19:1–22
Haftarah: Ezekiel 36:16–38

And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. (Ezekiel 36:26)

This week’s haftarah (reading from the Hebrew prophets) is special because this coming Shabbat follows Purim (the Festival of Esther). Purim, which this year occurs on Tuesday, March 3, commemorates the rise of Queen Esther, who was willing to risk her life to save her people from extermination. It’s the most joyous of all Jewish holidays.

Purim reminds us of our God-given responsibility to speak up in the face of evil. And yet evil’s power, be it in Esther’s day or our own, can often intimidate us into silence. What difference can one person make, especially if that person is me? And yet, like Esther, we may find ourselves in the right place at the right time. We never know when God may choose us to take a stand against evil, not just for our own sake, but for purposes far greater than ourselves.

I believe we are living in a time when evil has become so widespread that the responsibility to speak the truth falls on anyone who possesses it. This evil has taken many forms, which I will not take the time to list here. But as someone who treasures the Scriptures, as many of my audience do, at the core of it all is the spirit of Haman from the Purim story. It’s the misrepresentation and misguided treatment of the Jewish people, commonly called antisemitism. Tragically, antisemitism is too often naively and not-so-naively displayed by those who, while claiming allegiance to the Jewish Messiah, adhere to what has been called Replacement (or Fulfillment) Theology, also known as Supersessionism — the idea that God’s promises to ancient Israel are either transferred to or fulfilled by the Church.

When producing TorahBytes, I always begin with a fairly short Scripture as I did here. But to make my point more effective this week, I am providing a wider context. Here is Ezekiel 36:22-32:

Therefore say to the house of Israel, Thus says the Lord GOD: It is not for your sake, O house of Israel, that I am about to act, but for the sake of my holy name, which you have profaned among the nations to which you came. And I will vindicate the holiness of my great name, which has been profaned among the nations, and which you have profaned among them. And the nations will know that I am the LORD, declares the Lord GOD, when through you I vindicate my holiness before their eyes. I will take you from the nations and gather you from all the countries and bring you into your own land. I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you shall be clean from all your uncleannesses, and from all your idols I will cleanse you. And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules. You shall dwell in the land that I gave to your fathers, and you shall be my people, and I will be your God. And I will deliver you from all your uncleannesses. And I will summon the grain and make it abundant and lay no famine upon you. I will make the fruit of the tree and the increase of the field abundant, that you may never again suffer the disgrace of famine among the nations. Then you will remember your evil ways, and your deeds that were not good, and you will loathe yourselves for your iniquities and your abominations. It is not for your sake that I will act, declares the Lord GOD; let that be known to you. Be ashamed and confounded for your ways, O house of Israel (Ezekiel 36:22-32).

If the case against Supersessionism isn’t clear enough by my simply providing this passage, let me emphasize the following:

First, the Israel he is speaking to is whom we would call the Jewish people today, those in Ezekiel’s time, who, years earlier, had been scattered by the Assyrians and then exiled by the Babylonians.

Second, God’s own reputation is at stake here. Note his actions are not based on the people’s response, but upon his work among and within them.

Third, Israel’s return to both God and our ancient homeland is part of God’s restoration of his ancient covenant people.

And let’s also include verse thirty-six: “Then the nations that are left all around you shall know that I am the Lord; I have rebuilt the ruined places and replanted that which was desolate. I am the Lord; I have spoken, and I will do it.” God’s work among and within the people of Israel will have a great impact on the surrounding nations.

Obviously, there is so much here to unpack, but for now, let me say this: according to Ezekiel, the people who will experience the spiritual and physical renewal are the wayward people of Israel. Any transference of these promises to anyone else, any subtle or not-so-subtle interpretive twist that undermines what God is saying, any theological sleight of hand that suggests that God did not or does not mean what he says, not only robs the Jewish people of our God-given inheritance, but misrepresents the God of Israel himself, which is blasphemy.

The circumstances of Purim began when Esther’s cousin Mordecai would not bow to the Amalekite Haman, whose self-interest influenced the political powers in an attempt to destroy God’s chosen people. On this Purim, I call upon each and every person who values the Scriptures of the God of Israel to stand with the people of Israel against this same evil spirit that sought to destroy us centuries ago. Stand with the God of Israel by standing with the people of Israel, so that his promises through Ezekiel may be fulfilled sooner than later.

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version

For the week of February 28, 2026 / 11 Adar 5786

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Tezavveh & Zakhor
Torah: Shemot/Exodus 27:20 – 30:10; D’varim/Deuteronomy 25:17-19
Haftarah: 1 Samuel 15:2-34
Originally posted the week of March 7, 2020 / 11 Adar 5780 (revised)

As a jeweler engraves signets, so shall you engrave the two stones with the names of the sons of Israel. You shall enclose them in settings of gold filigree. And you shall set the two stones on the shoulder pieces of the ephod, as stones of remembrance for the sons of Israel. And Aaron shall bear their names before the Lord on his two shoulders for remembrance. (Sh’mot/Exodus 28:11-12)

This week, we look at one particular aspect of the elaborate garb of the Cohen HaGadol (English: Chief or High Priest). Over his main clothing, he was to wear an ephod, an apron-like overgarment with special spiritual significance. On each of the ephod’s shoulder pieces was a stone with the names of the twelve tribes of Israel. We read: “Aaron” (meaning he and his successors) “shall bear their names before the Lord on his two shoulders for remembrance” (Sh’mot/Exodus 28:12). The Cohen Hagadol, therefore, literally carried the names of the tribes into the presence of God.

It isn’t clear whether the “remembrance for the sons of Israel” refers to the need for the Cohen HaGadol to remember the people of Israel in his priestly service, or if, in his priestly service, he was bringing the people of Israel to the remembrance of God. Either way, he was symbolically carrying the weight of the nation on his shoulders. That this was symbolic makes what he was doing no less real. He obviously wasn’t carrying the people themselves on his shoulders, but the burden of the cares of the nation is a heavy burden—one that would intensely affect most people.

Like the Cohen HaGadol, we carry burdens on our shoulders. Any responsibility, be it family, job, community, and so on, is a burden—a burden that may or may not feel burdensome, but a burden nonetheless.

God had clearly placed the people of Israel on the Cohen HaGadol’s shoulders. What you and I are to carry, however, may not be so clear. At times, we find ourselves overwhelmed by the cares and concerns of others. I suggest we take the time to ask God, whether or not these are our assigned burdens or if we have mistakenly put them on ourselves.

Sometimes we carry burdens God has given us, but we make them heavier than they really are. We might misunderstand the nature of the responsibility, leading us to take misguided courses of action. It is important to let God clarify for us how he wants us to do the things he gives us to do. Don’t be deceived into thinking that going extreme on something is the same as being faithful to God. Doing more than we should can be as destructive as neglect.

Frankly, I don’t know how common this is, but you might find this helpful. At times, I have felt burdened without knowing what I am burdened with. I find myself feeling heavy, thinking that I am personally struggling emotionally, when actually God is placing a concern on my heart for someone else. When you find yourself carrying a weight, but don’t know what it is, as in everything else, ask God what is going on. You might be bearing the burden of another. If so, then ask him what he wants you to do about it.

While very few are called, like the Cohen HaGadol, to carry the burden of an entire nation, what has God placed on your shoulders? Unlike those who find themselves overly burdened or misunderstanding what it is they are carrying, perhaps you have been too busy to notice. Few carry the responsibility level of a Cohen HaGadol, but all people carry something. As bearers of God’s image, created by him to fulfill his plans and purposes on earth, we all have some part to play, some burden to carry, a responsibility to fulfill.

Yeshua said, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:28-30). Often, when this is referenced, the lightness of his burden is emphasized so much that we forget there is still a burden to carry. What God calls us to do is not designed to crush us, but we are called to carry it.

Scriptures taken from the English Standard Version

For the week of February 21, 2026 / 4 Adar 5786

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Terumah
Torah: Shemot/Exodus 25:1 – 27:19
Haftarah: 1 Melachim/1 Kings 5:26 – 6:13 (English 5:12 – 6:13)
Originally posted the week of February 17, 2018 / 2 Adar 5778 (updated)

And you shall put the mercy seat on the top of the ark, and in the ark you shall put the testimony that I shall give you. 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 25:21-22)

It’s fairly common to hear the God of the Old Testament contrasted with the God of the New. Even among those who would never dare to say that these constitute two very different beings, they may as well, given how common it is to mischaracterize what many view as irreconcilable depictions of this one God. There are indeed key contrasts between the Hebrew Scriptures and the New Covenant Writings vis-à-vis the divine. The differences, however, are not in God himself. But, rather, in his relationship to human beings.

To the casual reader, the Hebrew Scriptures seem to depict a God who is distant, while the New Covenant Writings portray him as approachable. That is somewhat true, because on our own, we are not fit to approach him. This is not due to his aloofness, as if he is sitting far away in heaven, nor a disinterest in human affairs. Far from it! As he revealed himself to the people of Israel within the covenant given at Mount Sinai, we see him anxious to live among his precious human creatures.

The entire Sinai covenant system was built upon the centrality of God’s dwelling place. God directed Moses to construct a mobile structure called the “mishkan” (English: tabernacle). It was here that the sacrifices and other worship rites were to be exclusively performed. Mishkan means “dwelling.” It was the precursor of the temple, which in Hebrew is “bayit,” the word for “house.” It is difficult to say whether God’s taking up residence in the mishkan was metaphorical or literal. It is probably both in some ways and not in others. Regardless, the people of Israel were to understand that the Master of the Universe was among them.

Inside the mishkan, in its innermost sanctum, called the “kodesh ha-k’dashim” (English: Holy of Holies), was a special golden chest, called the “aron ha-b’rit” (English: the Ark of the Covenant). On top of the aron ha-b’rit was the “kapporet” (English: “cover,” traditionally referred to as “the mercy seat”). As we read at the beginning, it was here that God would meet and speak with Moses. It would be here that the Cohen HaGadol (English: the Chief Priest) would appear before God once a year on Yom Kippur (English: the Day of Atonement).

That God was in the house was an essential element of ancient Israeli society. God is not a concept, but an actual personal being (the Being of all Beings, we can say). Obedience to his Word, even then, was not simply cold adherence to abstract principles, but the reasonable response to the reality of his presence. Everything that the people did or didn’t do was in response to him being in the house.

One of the dramatic developments within the New Covenant is that God’s presence is no longer confined to the ancient house, be it the mishkan or the temple. This is illustrated by the miraculous tearing of the curtain that separated the Holy of Holies from the rest of the house (see Matthew 27:51, Mark 15:38, Luke 23:45). This occurred immediately following Yeshua’s death to demonstrate that his sacrifice not only provided access to God for people of all nations, but that God’s presence was being unleashed throughout the entire world.

Through the New Covenant, the God of Israel is no longer exclusive to the people of Israel. In a sense, he never was. Not only did the calling of Israel through Abraham always have the nations in mind, but the Hebrew Scriptures are clear that God was neither nationalistic nor regional. It’s due to the human condition that the world wasn’t ready for his presence.

Since Yeshua’s death and resurrection, God’s presence has manifested throughout the earth in a most personal way. While most people seem to be blind to his taking up residence within his creation, he is no less present. God is in the house—the world he has made—yet we too often ignore him. We think we can get away with doing our own thing our own way, as if he will not call each and every one of us to account. He is doing far more, speaking far more, and responding far more than we care to admit.

We are not alone. God is in the house.

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

For the week of February 14, 2026 / 27 Shevat 5786

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Mishpatim & Shekalim
Torah: Shemot/Exodus 21:1 – 24:18; 30:11-16
Prophets: 2 Melachim/2 Kings 12:1-17
Originally posted the week of February 25, 2017 / 29 Shevat 5777 (revised)

Then Moses and Aaron, Nadab, and Abihu, and seventy of the elders of Israel went up, and they saw the God of Israel. There was under his feet as it were a pavement of sapphire stone, like the very heaven for clearness. And he did not lay his hand on the chief men of the people of Israel; they beheld God, and ate and drank. (Shemot/Exodus 24:9-11)

One of the most intriguing incidents in the Torah is when Moses, his brother Aaron, two of Aaron’s sons, and seventy elders ate with God. The references to seeing and beholding God seem to contradict God’s later statement to Moses about not seeing his face (see Shemot/Exodus 33:20). But in both occasions, there seems to be a seeing but not seeing happening at the same time. In the latter story, Moses is told that he can’t see God’s “face,” but only his “back” (Shemot/Exodus 33:23). How literally this is to be taken, we don’t know. It is reasonable to assume that seeing God’s face as opposed to his back is a reference to various levels of encountering his presence in the material realm. Human beings, due to our alienation from God, can only tolerate his revealing himself to some extent, a fullness of which would result in death. This explains the reaction of surprise by people such as Jacob, Gideon, Samson’s parents, and Isaiah, who have encountered God in some physical sense and yet survived (e.g., Bereshit/Genesis 32:30; Shoftim/Judges 6:22-23; 13:22, Isaiah 6:5).

A hint that Moses and company in this instance didn’t see God in his fullness is the mention of “his feet” and the appearance of the ground underneath him. If they saw more than that, one would think that there would be additional, more graphic things to describe.

Experiencing the presence of God, or the lack thereof, is a recurring theme in Scripture. The early pages of the Bible describe God mingling with people (see Bereshit/Genesis 3:8). Adam and Eve’s exile from the Garden of Eden for their rebellion against their Creator marks the beginning of our alienation from him. And yet God is not entirely absent. His contact with human beings from that time on is primarily verbal (however that worked) with a few dramatic and more intimate encounters such as the ones I have mentioned.

The directives God gave to Moses for building the Mishkan (English: Tabernacle), the precursor to the Temple, indicate God’s desire to dwell with his people. On one hand, he was understood to be in the people’s midst, but on the other hand, he was hidden from them behind the veil in front of the Mishkan’s inner sanctum, “the Holy of Holies.”

But doesn’t God live in a completely other place called “heaven”? Both the experience of eating with God and God’s presence within the Mishkan tell us something different. Heaven isn’t way out there somewhere. Rather, it’s where God is. Understanding heaven as far away is a way of speaking to describe the separation of God’s realm from the world in which we live. Yet the Bible teaches that the heavenly realm breaks in from time to time. And one day, the heavenly and earthly realms will co-exist harmoniously as God always intended, when the New Jerusalem is established on earth (see Revelation 21). What Moses and company had was a taste of this age to come.

Whenever and however that will be, we can access heaven now. That’s what happens when God’s Spirit takes up residence in us. The Messiah’s sacrifice and his defeat of death through his resurrection create access to heaven beyond anything experienced prior to his coming, Moses and company’s experience included. Heaven, the realm of God, is not something we must wait to experience when we die; it can be our lived experience now, by putting our trust in the Messiah, Yeshua.

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

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

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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

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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

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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

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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