Spirituality is lived now, in this world… “I do not ask that you take them out of the world, but that you keep them from the evil one” (John 17:15). We are “in but not of” the world; we are part yet also not part of it… This is the tension of living in the realm of the “already-not-yet.” We are haunted by a sense of incompletion – a yearning for the fulfillment of our salvation, an inner ache that helps focus the heart’s affections…
A paradox of the spiritual life is that we must descend to ascend… We enter at the “straight gate” of humility and brokenness. We all sin; we all fall short. First we must accept our own “dark side” — our own sinful nature — before we can ever come to know the light… This is the path of confession – acknowledging the truth about who we really are, which is the only way we can learn to “endure ourselves” and eventually let go of our shame. We find ourselves when we give up our defenses and take hold of God’s compassion. We all have our sins; now we must find our courage in God’s love.
The Talmud states that even after the judgment of the great Flood (הַמַּבּוּל) humanity refused to truly turn back to God (as the present state of this world also attests). In light of the ongoing wickedness of mankind, the early sages Hillel and Shammai engaged in a protracted machlochet l’shamayim (“a debate for the sake of heaven”) regarding whether it would have been better for humans not to have been created at all… Hillel argued that it was better that humans had been created, whereas Shammai argued the other way. Finally a vote was called for and the decision rendered was this: It would have been better for humans not to have been created than to have been created. However, since we do in fact exist, we must search our past deeds and carefully examine what we are about to do (Eruvin 13b).
The disciples assumed Yeshua needed earthly bread to find strength, but he said to them, “I have food to eat that you do not know about” (John 4:32). This “hidden bread” (i.e., lechem ha-nistar: לֶחֶם הַנִסְתָּר) was the passion and joy He had doing the will of God… Notice how the Teacher often used metaphors to elevate the thinking of his students. Earthly bread is a shadow of a deeper reality. Just as physical bread is a means to physical life, so “man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that God speaks” (Deut. 8:4; Matt. 4:4). Therefore Yeshua is the true manna, the “Living Bread” (לֶחֶם חַיִּים) from heaven that sustains us in “the desert” of this world. He is the One who truly satisfies the heart by removing the inner pain of our emptiness and hunger.
Faith perseveres in the way of life… “You who have clung to the LORD your God are all alive today” (Deut. 4:4). The Hebrew word devakut (דְּבָקוּת) means “cleaving” and refers to communion with God. This word comes from davak (דָּבַק), meaning to “cling” or “stick” (the Modern Hebrew word for “glue” is devek (דֶבֶק) which also comes from the same root, as does the Yiddish word “davka”). Devakut, then, implies being intimately connected with God in an earnest and passionate relationship…. The sages comment that we can cleave to God only one day at a time, since our future is conditioned upon this present day and its challenges. As Yeshua said: “Take therefore no thought for tomorrow: for tomorrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient for the day its own trouble” (Matt. 6:34). One day at a time. The LORD gives us daily bread (לֶחֶם חֻקֵּנוּ) so that we may persevere for this day; he feeds us with hunger to teach us to rely on alone him for true life (Deut. 8:3). “For he is our God, and we are the people of his pasture and the sheep of his hand today — if you hear his voice” (Psalm 95:7). Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your heart (Heb. 3:15). “Take care, brothers, lest there be in any of you an evil, unbelieving heart, leading you to fall away from the living God, but encourage one another every day, as long as it is called “today,” so that none of you may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin” (Heb. 3:12-13).
Some people seem to think that the gospel means that God’s wrath for sin has been negated (or “satisfied”) by the sacrifice of Yeshua, and now God no longer sees or judges sin…. Because of Yeshua, the cross “extinguishes Mount Sinai’s flame” and now everyone is acceptable to God — regardless of their behavior… “As far as the east is from the west, so far has He put our sins away from us…” God’s love trumps all things and now we can all “let it be” and “let go, let God…”
“Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him” (1 John 2:15). The way of faith always represents collision with the world (κόσμος) and its philosophy of the “good life.” Happy are those who “hunger and thirst” for righteousness, who refrain from this world and make themselves its exiles because of their inner heartache for true life. For them no amount of the world’s pleasures can obscure the difference between what is and what ought to be… This world is at best a corridor to the world to come, a “valley of decision” about what we ultimately choose to believe and to love… The heart of faith looks forward to “the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God” (Heb. 11:10).
In 
It is written in our Scriptures: “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise” (Psalm 51:17). We are “in” but not “of” the world, so that means that we share in the common hardships and sorrows of this world. However, the difference is this: We do not suffer alone, for God’s love surrounds us with comfort. For those who know Yeshua, suffering does not demand an intellectual answer to “why” we suffer as much as it evokes the heart’s cry for God’s presence… In the midst of our troubles the Spirit groans within us: “My soul clings to you and your right hand upholds me” (Psalm 63:8). We come to God in our brokenness, holding fast to his promise of comfort, and God upholds us with his hand. “This is my comfort in my affliction, that your word gives me life” (Psalm 119:50).
Our life in this world will end far sooner than we expect, and then what will become of us? I am not here thinking of the end of “the” world, but rather the end of your world – when you will die and face the light of eternity. Today, this moment, you are on the way, going someplace; your “latter days” are already come… If you are not prepared today, how will you be better prepared tomorrow? Today is the day of salvation, the hour that matters most (Psalm 95:7; Heb. 3:13). Learn to die to the world now, to let go of what presently holds you captive, so that you are free to meet that which forever shall come. Don’t put off genuine teshuvah: turn while there is still time (Eph. 5:15-16). And may God give us mercy to say from the heart: “For me to live is Messiah, and to die is gain” (Phil. 1:21).
The Hebrew Scriptures are filled with various kinds of wordplay. In addition to some humorous play on words (i.e., puns), you will discover alliteration, acrostics, parables, similes, metaphors, hyperbole, gematria, theophorisms, and other literary devices used in the Hebrew text. Some scholars even suggest that the first two words of the Torah (i.e., בְּרֵאשִׁית בָּרָא / bereshit bara) were intentionally spelled using the same initial three letters (בּ.ר.א) for the sake of “alliteration” (i.e., repetition of sound). At any rate, examples of wordplay often appear on the surface-level of the texts. For example, Adam (אָדָם) is a play on the word adamah (אֲדָמָה, “ground”); Chavah (חַוָּה, “Eve”) is a play on the word chai (חַי, “life”); Kayin (קַיִן, “Cain”) is a play on the verb kanah (קָנָה, “to get”), and so on (see Gen. 2:7, 3:20, 4:1). Even the name “Jesus” (i.e., Yeshua: יֵשׁוּעַ) plays on the Hebrew word for deliverance or salvation (i.e., yeshuah: יְשׁוּעָה). Of course, many other examples could be cited.