It is written in our Scriptures: “The wicked in his proud countenance does not seek; God is not in any of his thoughts” (Psalm 10:4). Indeed the willful denial of reality is an affront to heaven, contempt shown for the gift of life, and sacrilege of all that is worthy (Psalm 14). It is sheer folly to regard life apart from the fear of the LORD, for that is reishit chokhmah – “the beginning of wisdom” (Psalm 111:10).
The existence of God is the First Principle of all sound reasoning regarding reality. The so-called “postmodern world” is notorious for failing to explain anything of substantive meaning. Everything is left unexplained; no “narrative” is permitted (except the dogmatic narrative that there is no narrative, of course); no logical connections to a “real world” are sound; there is no “story” to our lives, and therefore postmodernism entirely misses the essential point of everything.
King David asked, “Who shall abide before the Presence of the LORD?” and the Spirit replied: “the one who walks blamelessly and does what is right and speaks truth in his heart” (Psalm 15:2). It is the one who is honest – “the one who speaks truth within his heart” (דבֵר אֱמֶת בִּלְבָבוֹ) that dwells in the “tent of the LORD,” for God is called the God of Truth (אֵל אֱמֶת), the Faithful God (אֵל אֱמוּנָה).
In heaven there is only the language of truth, and truth is the language of heaven. The “pure in heart” – that is, those who accept the truth of their inner condition, who acknowledge their lost condition, mourning over their lives, and who humbly find themselves starving for God’s deliverance – these are the ones who shall behold God (Matt. 5:2-6).
In this connection Blaise Pascal wrote: “I can feel nothing but compassion for those who sincerely lament their doubt, who regard it as the ultimate misfortune, and who, sparing no effort to escape from it, make their search their principal and most serious business. But as for those who spend their lives without a thought for this final end, I view differently. This negligence in the matter where they themselves, their eternity, their all are at stake, fills me more with irritation than pity: yea, it astounds and appalls me…” (Pascal: Pensees).
In the Torah we are told to count forty nine days – seven weeks of days – from the day following Passover until Shavuot (i.e., Weeks or “Pentecost”). This period of time is called Sefirat HaOmer (ספירות העומר), or the “counting the [barley] sheaves” (see Lev. 23:15-16; Deut. 16:9). In somewhat abstract terms, it’s as if there is a dotted line pointing directly from Passover to Shavuot – a “Jubilee” of days – representing the climax of Passover itself. The early sages identified this climax as the revelation of the Torah at Sinai — which indeed did happen exactly 49 days after the Passover in Egypt — but the New Testament identifies it as the outpouring of the Holy Spirit (רוח הקודש) that ratified the reality of the New Covenant of God at Zion. In other words, the redemption process that began at Passover was therefore completed at Shavuot, and that “completion” was the revelation of God’s love and deliverance for the entire world. And though the Jewish sages did not fathom the use of the otherwise forbidden leaven in the offering (see Lev. 2:11), prophetically the waving of two loaves during Shavuot pictured the “one new man” (composed of both Jew and Gentile) standing before the altar of the LORD (Eph. 2:14).
The countdown to Shavuot therefore goes beyond the giving of Torah at Sinai and points to the greater revelation of Zion. Shavuot is the fulfillment of the promise of the Holy Spirit’s advent to those who are trusting in Messiah (Acts 2:1-4). “Counting the Omer,” then, is about receiving the Holy Spirit to experience and know the resurrected LORD of Glory. You can “count” on that, chaverim!
In this connection note again that the climax of the 49 days was not the giving of the law at Sinai (i.e., matan Torah), but rather the revelation of the altar (i.e., the“Tabernacle”) and its subsequent fulfillment in the sacrificial death of Yeshua as our Lamb of God. Moreover, it was during this time that Yeshua made His post-resurrection appearances to His disciples and indeed ascended to heaven during this period… Of particular importance is 1) the beginning of the count of the omer since it signified the waving of the firstfruits and therefore the resurrection of Yeshua (1 Cor. 15:20); 2) the 40th day of the Omer (Mem B’Omer), when Yeshua ascended back to heaven, and 3) the climactic 49th day of the Omer (Shavuot) when the Holy Spirit was given to the disciples in fulfillment of the promise of Yeshua that we would not be left comfortless (Acts 2:1-4). Shavuot, then, marks the time of “Jubilee” of the Spirit, when are clothed with power to serve the LORD without fear…
Note: Some people get a bit “OCD” about the 49 day countdown, making it into a religious ritual with “kabbalistic” overtones, but the Torah simply says to count down the days until Shavuot, or Pentecost, since this has major implications regarding the advent of Messiah and the promise of the New Covenant…. For more on this subject, see: “Sefirat HaOmer: Counting the Sheaves to Shavuot.“
The name for ancient Egypt in Hebrew is “mitzrayim” (מִצְרַיִם) a word that can be translated as “straits” or “narrow places” (i.e., -מ, “from,” and צַר, “narrow”), suggesting that “Egypt” represents a place of constriction, tribulation, oppression, slavery, and despair. The Hebrew word for salvation, on the other hand, is “yeshuah” (יְשׁוּעָה), a word that means deliverance from restriction, that is, freedom and peace. As it is written: “From my distress (מִן־הַמֵּצַר), i.e., from “my Egypt,” I cried out to the LORD; the LORD answered me and set me in a wide open place” (Psalm 118:5).
But why, it may be asked, did God tell Jacob: “Do not be afraid to go down to Egypt” (Gen. 46:3)? Why did God allow this excursion into “heavy darkness” that Abraham clearly foresaw (Gen. 15:12-13)? What is there about “Egypt” that prepares us to take hold of our promised inheritance? Joseph become a prince of Egypt; however, he was still captive to Pharaoh, and later, after he died, a “new Pharaoh arose” that did not acknowledge his contribution to Egyptian history (Exod. 1:8). All that remained of Joseph were his bones – a chest of bones that were carried out by Moses (and later buried by Joshua in Shechem). The “bare bones” of Joseph represented the essence of his faith, as he foresaw the time when God would rescue the family from Egypt and raise him up in the land of promise (Gen. 50:24-26; Heb. 11:22).
A general principle of spiritual life is that the “the way up is the way down” (John 12:24). As Yeshua said, “Whoever would be first among you must be slave of all” (Mark 10:44). Becoming nothing (i.e., ayin) in this world is the condition for seeing something in the world to come. Unless a seed falls to the ground it abides alone (John 12:24). But we become “nothing” by trusting in the promise of God, not by trying to do it ourselves…
The purpose of life here below is to carry us to the highest degree of taedium vitae (“weariness of life”). When God does everything to rob a person of any inclination to live, yet that person persists in faith that God is love, such a one has become ripe for eternity.” – Kierkegaard, Journals (July 2, 1855)
This is not another venture of the ego. Life in the Spirit means trusting that God will do within you what you cannot do for yourself, to set you free from the bondage of yourself… From our point of view we take hold of what God has done for us by “letting go” of our own devices (Phil. 2:13); we let go and trust and are carried by the “Torah of the Spirit of life” (i.e., תּוֹרַת רוּחַ הַחַיִּים, Rom. 8:2). From heaven’s point of view God administers “severe mercy” by afflicting us with vanity, trails of various kinds, lamentation, and disquiet of heart, in order to turn us away from all we desire or hope to find in this life as our good. Such “taedium vitae” is a great gift to the trusting soul, even if (at the present time) it may seem to suggest the distance and disregard of God’s own heart.
The way is not trying but trusting; not struggling but resting; not clinging to life, but letting go… allowing trouble to pass as dark shadows that flit over the vista of transience.
God’s way of deliverance is entirely different than man’s way. Man tries to enlist carnal power in the battle against sin (i.e., religion, politics, etc.), but God’s way is to remove the flesh from the equation. The goal is not to make us stronger and stronger, but rather weaker and weaker, until the ego is crucified and only the sufficiency of the Messiah remains. Then we can truly say, “I have been crucified with Messiah. It is no longer I who live, but the Messiah who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me” (Gal 2:20). The word “Hebrew” (עִבְרִי) means one who has “crossed over” (עָבַר) to the other side, as our father Abraham did when he left the world of Mesopotamia (Gen. 14:13). Likewise it is on the other side of the cross that we experience the very power that created the universe “out of nothing” (i.e., yesh me’ayin: יֵשׁ מֵאַיִן) and that raised Yeshua the Messiah from the dead.
The receiving of the Torah (קבלת תורה) must take place each and every day, as it says, “Trust in the LORD ‘bekhol libekha’ (בְּכָל־לִבֶּךָ) – with all your heart; and know Him ‘bekol derakhekha’ (בְּכָל־דְּרָכֶיךָ), in all your ways” (Prov. 3:5-6). The revelation of Torah is described as a “loud and never-ending voice” (Deut. 5:22), though it is our constant responsibility to “shema” – to take heed and receive the invitation of God’s heart.
It is written in our Scriptures: “Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not rely on your own understanding” (Prov. 3:5). The Hebrew word for trust is “bittachon” (בִּטָחוֹן), from a root word (בָּטָח) that means “to lean upon,” to feel safe and secure (Psalm 31:19). Bittachon expresses the emotional conviction that you are welcome and accepted before God, and that you have access to his heart (Heb. 4:16; 1 Pet. 5:7). We trust with “all of our heart” when we let go of our need to control (or understand) things and instead rely on God’s ability to take care of us. Trusting God means knowing “in your kishkas,” that is, in your guts, that God is taking care of you (Rom. 8:28); it is the comfort of being made safe in his love…
“In all your ways know Him, and he will direct your paths” (Prov. 3:6), and that means you are to know God in whatever “way” you happen to find yourself in, which includes ways of joy and happiness, but also ways of struggle, ways of sinfulness, and ways of heartache… In all these ways we are to know him…. And just as we are to trust God with all of our heart and abandon ourselves to his care, so we are “know God” in all our goings, opening our heart to his loving presence and trusting in his guidance for our lives. The Good Shepherd will lead us down the right paths for the sake of his beautiful name (Psalm 23:3). Amen.
In the Torah we read about the institution of Passover and the final plague that was to befall the Egyptians on the Passover night. When we think of this time, we may imagine God “passing over” those houses that had the blood of the lamb smeared on their doorposts, though it might better be said that God passed into the homes of those who trusted him, while he withdrew His Presence from those that did not…
To see this note that two different words are used that can be translated as “pass over.” First, God said, “I will pass over (i.e., avar: עֲבַר) the land of Egypt that night, and I will strike all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, both man and beast; and on all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgments; I am the LORD” (Exod. 12:12). But directly after saying this, God promised to “pass over” (i.e., pasach: פָּסַח) the homes of those who trusted in him to impart his protection from the plague of death: “The blood shall be a sign for you, on the houses where you are. And when I see the blood, I will pass over to you (lit. עֲלֵכֶם, ‘upon you’), and no plague will befall you to destroy you, when I strike the land of Egypt” (Exod. 12:13). In other words, when God would see the blood of the Passover lamb, he would pass over to enter the house and “cover” its occupants from the judgment of death.
The blood of the Passover lamb sheltered people from the plague of death by atoning for their sin by means of a substitutionary sacrifice. The Torah states that “the life (i.e., nefesh: נֶפֶשׁ, or ‘soul’) of the flesh is in the blood” (Lev. 17:11), and therefore death represents the separation of the soul from the body. The life blood of a sacrificial lamb was therefore offered in exchange for the death and destruction of others. Eating the lamb “roasted by fire” meant identifying with the death offered in exchange for your own; eating matzah, or unleavened bread, signified being delivered in haste, apart from the “rise of the flesh” or human design; and eating maror, or bitter herbs, recalled the bitterness of former bondage.
The very first time the word “blood” (דָּם) occurs in the Scriptures concerns the death of Abel, the son of Adam and Eve who was murdered by his brother Cain. After Abel’s blood was shed, the LORD confronted Cain and said, “What have you done? The voice of your brother’s blood (קוֹל דְּמֵי אָחִיךָ) is crying to me from the ground” (Gen. 4:10). Since blood is the carrier of life, it bears the energy and vitality of life: it has its own spiritual “voice.” Likewise, the blood of Yeshua (דְּמֵי יֵשׁוּעַ), the true Lamb of God who died upon the cross, speaks on our behalf, and reverses the power of death by creating a barrier that death can no longer cross, since the death of the sacrificial victim “exchanges” the merit and power of life. Unlike the blood of Abel that “cries out” for justice, the blood of Yeshua cries out for mercy (Heb. 12:24). Putting our trust in the provision of God’s sacrifice causes His wrath (or righteous judgment) to pass over while simultaneously extending love to the sinner…. This is the essential message of the gospel itself, that we have atonement through the sacrificial death, burial, and resurrection of Yeshua our Savior, the great Lamb of God. As Yeshua said, “I tell you the solemn truth, the one who hears my message and believes the One who sent me has eternal life (חַיֵּי עוֹלָם) and will not be condemned, but has passed over (i.e., μετά + βαίνω, lit., “crossed over” [עָבַר]) from death to life” (John 5:24). Just as God’s judgment passes over from life to death on my behalf; so His love passes over from death to life on my behalf…
Notice that the Hebrew verb “pasach” can also mean “to limp,” suggesting the heel of Messiah that was “bruised” in the battle for our salvation (Gen. 3:15). It is the cross of Yeshua that enables the mercy of God to “overcome” his justice, or that allows “steadfast love and faithfulness to meet; righteousness and peace to kiss” (Psalm 85:10). His attribute of Justice passes over us as His attribute of Compassion passes into us… The sacrifice of Messiah allows God to be both just and the justifier of those who trust in God’s remedy and exchange for our sin (Rom. 3:26).
The idea of substitutionary atonement is surely mysterious and complicated, but ultimately the message is simple: God loves you and has made a way for you to be eternally accepted — despite your sin… That’s the “good news” of the cross. That’s what Yeshua meant when he said, “Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life. For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life (חַיֵּי עוֹלָם). For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him” (John 3:14-17). Humanity as a whole has been “bitten by the snake” and needs to be delivered from its deadly venom. Just as the image made in the likeness of the destroying snake was lifted up for Israel’s healing, so the One made in the likeness of sinful flesh was to be lifted up as the Healer of the world (Rom. 8:3). All we need to do is look and believe. Yeshua died for you so you can live. He stands at the door and knocks, offering to cross over to give you his life (Rev. 3:20).
People confuse morality with religion, saying things like, “if I do good, the rest will take care of itself,” but Yeshua did not come to simply teach (or reinforce) moral truth, but to die for our sins and to transform our nature. The message of the cross is not that we should reform ourselves with renewed hope, but rather that our old nature must die and be replaced with something far greater… When King David cried out to the Lord, “Create in me a clean heart, O God,” he did not use the Hebrew word yatzar (יָצַר), which means to “fashion” or “form” something from pre-existing material (Gen. 2:7), but he instead used the word bara (בָּרָא), a verb exclusively used in the Torah to refer to God’s direct creation of the cosmos (Gen. 1:1). In other words, King David understood that no amount of reformation of his character would be enough, and therefore he appealed to that very power of God that alone could create yesh me’ayin, or “out of nothing.” Such was the nature of the remedy required that was fulfilled in the cross of Messiah…