Healing of the Self…

“Wherever you go, there you are…” You can’t escape from yourself; you can’t run away from who you are, and therefore your relationship with yourself is as inescapably eternal as your relationship with God. Indeed how you relate to yourself expresses your relationship with God (Luke 15:17). If you are self-abusive, if your life is a “living hell,” you must first of all face yourself and quit denying the condition of your heart. The LORD delivers through the wound; he does not offer you “Nirvana” to extinguish who you really are… If you have a critical spirit, if you cast eyes of suspicion upon others, then understand this reveals your own self-rejection and leads to the hell of never accepting yourself…

Perhaps you learned to reject yourself through your earliest experiences, or from your family’s secret pain, but regardless you must be delivered from the fear of who you are, and only God in his mercy can heal you from that wound…

Only when you are rightly related to God in the truth are you able to become a healed self; only by God’s power can you come alive from the dead to know the truth of God’s redeeming love.

 

 

Psalm 51:10 Hebrew page (pdf)

Parashat Korach… (podcast)

Shavuah tov, chaverim. Last week’s Torah portion (Shelach Lekha) told the tragic story about the “sin of the spies” and the divine decree that the generation rescued from Egypt was sentenced to die in the exile of the desert. In this week’s portion (Korach), the hard truth of their condition began to sink in, and the people bemoaned their fate and rebelled further by attempting to overthrow God’s designated leadership and return to Egypt. This rebellion was instigated and organized by Moses’ cousin Korach, who – along with a band of co-conspirators – was swiftly judged and put to death, thereby vindicating the Aaronic priesthood and Moses’ leadership of Israel.

In this Shavuah Tov broadcast, I survey the grand narrative of the Torah and discuss the issue of faith and why it is essential to believe the truth as our duty before God…

 

Korach Podcast:

 

 

The Warning of Korah… (podcast)

Our Torah portion this week (i.e., Korach) centers on the rebellion of Korah, a man who questioned God’s authority and who arrogantly sought to “intrude” into the office of the priesthood. It is noteworthy that his rebellion is explicitly mentioned only once in the New Testament – in the Book of Jude – as an example of the fate that awaits those false teachers who likewise spurn God’s law. False teachers within the church are likewise dangerous because they deny the truth of Torah and redefine our duties before God. Jude identifies them as spiritual impostors who “work from the inside” to confound or obscure the truth of what salvation means. Such a charlatan may appear to be a genuine believer, but he or she aims to sow confusion and sin among God’s children; they are the proverbial “wolves in sheep’s clothing” (Matt. 7:15).

Jude’s warning is especially important for us in this present hour, because it is foretold that in the time immediately preceding the coming of the Messiah, spiritual deception and unbridled godlessness would greatly increase (2 Tim. 3:1-5). At any rate, test the spirits and seek God’s face always, dear friends. I sincerely hope this audio broadcast encourages you.

 

Warning of Korah Podcast:

Yom HaShoah Podcast…

In my audio podcast for Yom HaShoah (Holocaust Remembrance Day) I discuss some of the philosophical influences that led to the atrocities of the attempted genocide of the Jewish people, including the rise of the Idealism of G.W. Hegel and the pragmatic concept of the “dialectic” that was used to negate the value of the individual in preference to the collective…. Hegel directly influenced Karl Marx and his godless materialism and social revolutionary theories, and in general it may be said that German idealism led both to the nihilism of Friedrich Nietzsche and to barbarity of Adolf Hitler’s national socialism.

Listen to the podcast:

 

Truth of the Sacred…

“Let them make me a mikdash (“holy place,” “sanctuary”), that I may dwell in their midst” (Exod. 25:8). Though this verse refers to the physical mishkan (i.e., “Tabernacle”), it more deeply refers to the duty of the heart to sanctify the Name of God and bring a sense of holiness to the inner life. This requires that we focus the mind and heart to honor the sacredness of life, taking “every thought captive” to the truth of God in Messiah (2 Cor. 10:5).

Since our minds and hearts are gateways to spiritual revelation, we must be careful to not to abuse ourselves by indulging in sloppy thinking or unrestrained affections.  God holds us responsible for what we think and believe (Acts 17:30-31), and that means we have a duty to honor moral reality and truth. There is an “ethic of belief,” or a moral imperative to ascertain the truth and reject error in the realm of the spiritual.

Since God holds us responsible to repent and believe the truth of salvation, He must have made it possible for us to do so (“ought” implies “can”). And indeed, God has created us in His image and likeness so that we are able to discern spiritual truth. He created us with a logical sense (rationality) as well as a moral sense (conscience) so that we can apprehend order and find meaning and beauty in the universe He created. All our knowledge presupposes this. Whenever we experience anything through our senses, for example, we use logic to categorize and generalize from the particular to the general, and whenever we make deductions in our thinking (comparing, making inferences, and so on), we likewise rely on logic. We have an innate intellectual and moral “compass” that points us to God.

 

 

 

Since we all necessarily must think in order to live, we should value clear thinking. This should be obvious enough, though people often make various errors and misjudgments because they devalue the effort required to carefully think through a question. As William James once said, “A great many people think they are thinking when they are merely rearranging their prejudices.” When it comes to questions about the gospel, however, God regards such carelessness to be blameworthy. Again, the LORD holds us accountable for what we think and believe, especially when it comes to the reality and mission of His Son.

The truth about God is always available to human beings, if they are willing to look for it. The Divine Light that was created before the sun and the stars represents God’s immanent presence that “lights up” all of creation – including our minds (Gen. 1:3). As Paul stated, “the invisible things of Him from the creation of the world are clearly seen so that people are without excuse” (Rom. 1:19-20). The heavens are constantly attesting to the reality of God’s handiwork (Psalm 19:1). All of creation “shouts out” that there is a God. Since an infinite series of causes is impossible, the Cosmological argument for the existence of a First Cause is intuitively known to be warranted…

The witness of God’s truth is foundational to all of our thinking as well. If you regress far enough in a chain of reasoning, you will always encounter first principles, intuitions, axioms, and “apprehensions” of the laws of thought. This is how language works, or rather, how our mind necessarily discovers truth about reality. For example, the law of contradiction (or identity) is not discovered in experience, but is brought to experience by the operation of the mind. All reasoning is ultimately grounded on foundational first principles that are regarded as self-evident and that are known through the light of the mind itself. Even the pagan Greeks understood this. For instance, Aristotle said that both deduction and induction ultimately were based on the “intuitive grasp” of first principles of thinking itself.

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It’s important to realize that no one “invented” the rules of logic (such as the law of identity, the law of contradiction, valid rules of inference, etc.); no, these are self-evident and presupposed in all forms of intelligible thinking about anything at all. In other words, God created the mind so that true thinking is possible. If you are reading these words, you are presently using logic. You are identifying and combining letters, interpreting their meaning, making connections and comparisons, and therefore making inferences. There is no way to argue that logic is “artificial” or culturally relative. No one can consistently use logic to argue against its universal validity. The revelation (not the invention) of logical first principles is part of God’s “signature,” if you will, of how the mind is wired to correspond to reality. Reason discovers order in the universe but does not create it ex nihilo. If you deny this, you have opted out of the realm of thought altogether and entered the realm of the absurd.

Likewise we have intuitive awareness regarding the existence of moral truth (i.e., the standard of justice and moral law), aesthetic truth (i.e., ideals of beauty, goodness, worth, and love), metaphysical truth (i.e., cause and effect relationships), and so on. Even scientific truth is based on principles that transcend the discipline of science itself (for example, the assumption that knowledge is “good” and should be obtained is not an empirical statement). The human mind naturally uses these sorts of categories in its thinking all the time, but each of these are ultimately derived from the rational mind of God Himself.

God created people so that they could discern truth about reality. The mind functions according to logical laws because it is made in the image and likeness of God Himself… God Himself is the ground of all logic, since He created reality and structured the world to be knowable according to its laws. As it is written: “In the beginning was the word/logic (ὁ λόγος), and the λόγος was with God, and the λόγος was God” (John 1:1). God created a world that exhibits order and great beauty. And since human beings were created b’tzelem Elohim, in the image of God, our thoughts (and the words used to formulate our thoughts) as well as our actions are likewise intended to exhibit order and beauty. “For the fruit of light (καρπὸς τοῦ πνεύματος) is found in all that is good and right and true” (Eph. 5:9). Therefore “whatever is true… think on these things” (Phil. 4:8).

Followers of Yeshua are commanded to love the truth and to think clearly about their faith. The ministry of reconciliation itself is defined as “the word of truth, by the power of God, through weapons of righteousness” (2 Cor. 6:7). Indeed, the word of truth (τὸν λόγον τῆς ἀληθείας) is a synonym for the “gospel of salvation” itself (Eph. 1:13; Col. 1:5; James 1:18). We are saved by Yeshua, who is the “way, the truth, and the life” (John 14:6). God commands all people to believe this truth (Acts 17:30-31; 1 Tim. 2:4). People perish because “they refuse to love the truth and so be saved” (2 Thess. 2:10-12). Therefore we see that the issue of truth is central to salvation itself….

 

Podcast:

Parashat Terumah Podcast….

The goal of the Sinai revelation was not only the giving of the Ten Commandments to the Israelites but enshrining the Divine Presence within their hearts… In our Torah portion for this week (i.e., Parashat Terumah), we read how God asked the people to offer “gifts from the heart” to create a “place” for Him: “Let them make for me a sanctuary that I may dwell in their midst” (Exod. 25:8).

The Hebrew word for “sanctuary” is mikdash (מִקְדָּשׁ), which comes from the root word kadash (קָדַשׁ), “to be set apart as sacred.” A mikdash is therefore a “set apart space,” or a “holy place” that represents something profoundly treasured – a place of beauty and worship, a refuge, a place of rest. Other words that share this root idea include kedushah (holiness), kiddushin (betrothal), kaddish (sanctification), kiddush (marking sacred time), and so on. When God said, “Let them make for me a mikdash,” then, he was inviting the people to make a sacred place within their hearts for His Presence to be manifest…. The “materials” required to make this place – gold, silver, brass, red and purple yarns, fine linens, oils, spices, precious stones, etc. – were ultimately from the heart, expressed in free-will offerings given to God.

 

 

 

 

In this audio broadcast I step through the Torah portion and add Hebrew insights to help you better understand the Jewish roots of your faith in Yeshua, the Jewish Messiah.  I hope you will find it helpful.

 

Podcast Audio:

 


 

Torah and Tradition Podcast…

In this audio podcast I discuss the role of tradition in our understanding of the Torah and the Holy Scriptures. Though this is a somewhat complex subject, it is comprehensible if we take the time to carefully think through some of the issues. Among other things I consider the philosophical idea of the “Tao” as described by C.S. Lewis in relation to human conscience, the intuitive idea of the moral law as empirically expressed in various world cultures, and the argument that objective values are implied in any statement of right and wrong. I also consider the role and influence of tradition regarding the revelation of the law of God given at Mount Sinai, the subsequent preservation and transmission of the written words of Scripture, the creation of the biblical canon, and how both Yeshua and the Apostle Paul accepted and ministered in the context of the theological traditions of their day. I hope you might find it helpful…

 

 

 

Podcast: Torah and Tradition

Knowing what is Real…

Though we believe that God is everywhere and that “in Him we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28), God is not experienced through objective observation but must be experienced inwardly, by means of the heart. This is true for two basic reasons. First, God literally cannot be experienced as an “object” both because we are unable to see him in his essence, and also because as the “Ground of Being” he is necessarily beyond the domain of objective measurement or “definite description.” Secondly, God is a spirit who “dwells in unapproachable light, whom no one has ever seen or can see,” which again makes his infinite existence on a different plane altogether, beyond the horizon of human understanding. Therefore Scripture calls God “the King of eternity, immortal, invisible, and full of glory” (1 Tim. 1:17).

Now while we cannot directly see God, we can rationally discern or infer his existence though the effects of nature itself. “The heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament shows his handiwork” (Psalm 19:1); “the invisible things of God are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and godhead” (Rom. 1:20; Rev. 4:11). Furthermore, God has “set eternity” within each human heart (Eccl. 3:11; Gen. 1:27) which provides inner witness to his reality as the Creator and Judge of all the world (Rom. 2:15).

This “general revelation,” as it has come to be called, has been expressed in various logical arguments for God’s existence over the years, including the “cosmological” argument (the universe exists because God is its first cause); the “teleological” argument (the universe displays purpose and intelligent design); the “ontological” argument (God is known intuitively by reflecting on the nature of existence itself); the “moral” argument (moral and aesthetic values indicate that right and wrong are grounded in God as the Lawgiver); the argument from religious experience (people encounter “transcendental” and spiritual meaning in life that points to God), and so on. In this present age, however, we see through “a glass darkly,” which means we see indirectly by means of analogy or “riddles,” and our language about God will therefore be analogical and incomplete. Faith is the “substance of hope” and the “conviction of the unseen” (Heb. 11:1) and the person of faith “sees the One who is invisible” (Heb. 11:27). It confesses that “we have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens” (2 Cor. 5:1).
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Read more “Knowing what is Real…”

The Journey to Moriah…

In our Torah portion for this week, parashat Vayera, we read the shocking account of how God tested Abraham by asking him to sacrifice his son Isaac as a burnt offering (Gen. 22:1-18). In Jewish tradition, this drama is called the “Akedah” (i.e., “binding”), which is regarded as the supreme test of Abraham’s obedience and faith to God. Many of us are familiar with this great story, of course, though we can learn much if we take some time to reflect about the meaning of Abraham’s ordeal, instead of skipping over the journey and “flying to the top of the mountain” to behold the happy ending.

The Torah’s account of the test begins this way: “Now it came about after these things, that God tested Abraham, and said to him, “Abraham!” And he said, “Here I am.” And he said, “Please take your son, your only son, whom you love, even Isaac, and go to the land of Moriah; and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains of which I will tell you” (Gen. 22:1-2).

On the face of it, this dreadful request from God was mind-bendingly difficult to understand. Why would God ask Abraham for none other than his promised heir, the miracle child Isaac, to be literally sacrificed as a burnt offering? Was not Isaac specially chosen by God as the promised seed from whom all the nations would be blessed (Gen. 15:4-6)? It made no sense at all…. And why did God want the offering to be made in the “land of Moriah”? According to Rashi, the Hebrew word “Moriah” (מוֹרִיָּה) derives from the word “instruction” (הוֹרָאָה) and God (יהּ), suggesting the teaching of God, a synonym for Torah. According to the sages, Moriah But what sort of teaching is this, for Abraham to be asked to kill his beloved son?

It must have been a terribly sleepless night for Abraham as he agitated over God’s request for him to do the unthinkable act of sacrificing his promised son Isaac. Nevertheless, he wasted no time preparing himself for the journey ahead. At sunrise the very next day he arose, woke two of his servants and Isaac, prepared his donkey, cut wood for the burnt offering, and immediately set off to the place (הַמָּקוֹם) where God told him to go (Gen. 22:3). We have no idea if Abraham had told his wife Sarah of his plans…

We must try to understand and feel the great anxiety and distress of Abraham’s heart as he journeyed for three days, not knowing how to explain what he was doing to Isaac (or to his wife Sarah for that matter). There is terrible suspense in this story, not only in the cloud of unknowing surrounding the entire mission, but because the very thought of sacrificing his son, the sole heir of all that Abraham was promised, was the annihilation of all that he had believed, loved, and hoped. The starry sky of his vision counting the stars suddenly turned to black (Gen. 15:3). Abraham was later called the greatest of the patriarchs and “the father of the faithful,” because he bore the burden of trusting God in the midst of a dreadful contradiction. How could Abraham understand the Lord (יהוה) as the sole Creator and Sustainer of life, the sovereign King and righteous Judge, the one who led him from his homeland, the one who promised that he would be the father of a multitude of people, the covenant-making God who pledged land to his descendants after him into perpetuity; the one who said that Abraham would be “exceedingly fruitful” and from whom nations and kings would descend — how could Abraham understand this LORD to be capable of asking him to go and sacrifice his son as a burnt offering? Was this not a complete shock to all his theology? A temptation? A demonic idea? Did it not threaten the meaning of his visions? Did not God promise him a future and a hope? Had not the LORD renamed him from “Abram” (exalted father) to “Abraham” (father of a multitude) to signify his promise to make his descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and sand on the shoreline?

Was Abraham perhaps mistaken regarding the nature of the test before him? Why didn’t Abraham argue with God (אֱלהִים) by remembering Him as the LORD (יְהוָה), the Compassionate Source of life? Earlier he had argued with God regarding the destruction of Sodom. So why didn’t he argue to save his own son? Might this have been Abraham’s test, namely, that God wanted Abraham to argue and to challenge the command to perform child sacrifice? Or why didn’t he ask, “Why do you taunt me by giving me a son in my old age only to have him taken away?” Why didn’t Abraham protest that his descendants could never inherit the Promised Land if his heir were killed? Indeed, how could Abraham have been in his right mind during this test? As Soren Kierkegaard reminds us in his book Fear and Trembling, this is yirat Elohim – the fear of God – taken to point of sheer madness. The temptation to elevate blind obedience to an arbitrary deity (אֱלהִים) above the dictates of compassion and conscience had to be overcome. Abraham’s temptation, so to speak, was whether to listen to the voice of God (i.e., Elohim) or to heed the voice of the LORD (for more on this question see the article, “The Temptation of Grace“).

On the other hand, perhaps the nature of the test was indeed whether Abraham would be willing to surrender his rationality (and sanity) to demonstrate his unconditional loyalty to God. If so, Abraham would need to “step outside” of his theology – his understanding of God – to yield in absolute trust in God’s instruction to kill his son. He had to close his eyes to everything he assumed to be true in order to obey God’s commandment….

Keep in mind that Abraham’s trial was not a pretense or charade; he was not given any private assurances from God that he really wasn’t going to have to kill his son… No, for reasons that were beyond his understanding God asked Abraham to slay Isaac, and he was therefore left alone with his resolve whether or not to obey God – even in this terrible darkness…. It didn’t make sense – none of it did – and yet since God had asked, the test would be if he would obey. During the three day journey to Moriah, he was apparently silent. He could not explain the nature of his mission or its justification, even with Isaac.

“On the third day Abraham lifted up his eyes and saw the place from afar… And Abraham took the wood of the burnt offering and laid it on Isaac his son. And he took in his hand the fire and the knife. So they went both of them together” (Gen. 22:4,6). But Isaac wanted to make sure of what was happening. He needed to understand what was being asked of him. “So Isaac said to his father Abraham, “My father!” And he said, “Here am I, my son.” And he said, “Behold, the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?” (Gen. 22:7). This is the first word of dialog recorded over the three day journey… It is hard to imagine the pathos during this exchange. Abraham replied ambiguously: “God will provide for himself the lamb for a burnt offering, my son.” So they went both of them together” (Gen. 22:8).

As I’ve mentioned before, notice that Abraham’s words could be understood as: “God will provide the lamb for the burnt offering — my son!” (ירְאֶה־לּוֹ הַשֶּׂה לְעלָה בְּנִי) – making it plain that Isaac was himself to be offered upon the altar. According to midrash, upon hearing this, Isaac put his face between his hands and wept. “Is this the Torah about which you spoke to mother?” he sobbed. When Abraham heard this, he wept also. But Isaac controlled himself and sought to comfort his father: “Do not feel distressed, my father. Fulfill your Creator’s will through me! May my blood be an atonement for the future Jewish people” (Bereshit Rabbah). The Torah then repeats the phrase, “and they both walked on together,” indicating that Isaac had accepted his sacrificial death. He then steeled himself as he carried the wood that would be used to consume him upon the altar.

Isaac could have run away, of course. According to Jewish tradition, Isaac was a 37 year old man at the time who could have easily resisted his father’s will, yet he chose to submit to his father. Therefore Isaac, as much as Abraham, underwent a great test – a passion of the heart to fully surrender to God (for more on this see “The Passion of Isaac”).

The Torah’s narrative continues: “When they came to the place of which God had told him, Abraham built the altar there and laid the wood in order and bound Isaac his son and laid him on the altar, on top of the wood” (Gen. 22:9). Here we are nearing the climax of the incredible drama. Abraham then built the altar on Moriah and “arranged the wood in order.” The aged Abraham then “bound Isaac his son” (וַיַּעֲקד אֶת־יִצְחָק בְּנוֹ) and carefully laid him on the altar, “on top of the wood.” Like the Suffering Servant who would come after him, Isaac “set his face like a flint” to fulfill God’s will (Isa. 50:7).

Isaac kept his eyes directed toward heaven as he lay tightly bound and motionless upon the altar. He awaited the final blow and wanted it to fall with love and obedience within his heart. It was to be a shared sacrifice between the beloved son and his father. Finally “Abraham stretched out (שׁלח) his hand and took the knife to slaughter (i.e., לִשְׁחט, from shechitah) his son” (Gen. 22:10). It must have seemed like a timeless moment – outside the bounds of this world itself – as the knife was lifted up above his son, ready to be plunged into his heart. The midrash says that the two looked at each other, their eyes locked, during this climactic moment, yet they were unafraid at this point – their resolve was so complete that the sacrifice was essentially already done, and now all that remained was this final step… The Talmud says that when Abraham “stretched out” his hand, he briefly examined the knife to determine if it was ritually fit, and this delay was the precise moment when the Angel of the LORD (מַלְאַךְ יהוה) called to him from heaven and said, “Abraham, Abraham! Do not lay your hand on the boy or do anything to him, for now I know that you fear God, seeing you have not withheld your son, your only son, from me” (Gen. 22:11).

And behold Abraham’s faith that “God would provide the lamb” was vindicated when he saw a ram caught in a thicket by its horns, which Abraham then took and offered up in his son’s place. Abraham then called the altar at Moriah, the place of teaching, “Adonai Yireh” (יְהוָה יִרְאֶה), “the LORD will provide” (from re’eh, “see”).

After this the Angel of the LORD pronounced God’s oath of blessing upon Abraham: “By myself I have sworn, declares the LORD, because you have done this and have not withheld your son, your only son, I will surely bless you, and I will surely multiply your offspring as the stars of heaven and as the sand that is on the seashore. And your seed (זַרְעֲךָ) shall possess the gate of his enemies, and in your seed (זַרְעֲךָ) shall all the nations of the earth be blessed, because you have obeyed my voice” (Gen. 22:16-18). Note that the Apostle Paul refers to this passage by saying it does not say, “And to your seeds” (זְרָעֶיךָ) referring to many, but referring to one, “And to your seed” (זַרְעֲךָ) who is the Messiah (Gal. 3:16).

After receiving this consummate blessing from God, Abraham went to Beer-Sheva (בְּאֵר־שֶׁבַע), the “well of the sevenfold oath” where he had earlier planted an orchard, and there had called upon the LORD, the “Everlasting God” (אֵל עוֹלָם). Abraham then received news of the birth of a daughter, Rebekah, to his nephew Bethuel, the future bride of Isaac.

So that is my brief overview of the great test of faith given to Abraham and how he passed the test with God’s blessing. Now apart from the great prophetic truth that God indeed would provide a lamb in the person of His own son – something Abraham also understood (see John 8:56) – what practical applications might we infer as children of Abraham?

Well perhaps the first lesson to apply is that we must trust in God even when we don’t understand what is happening to us. When you do not know what you are doing, what you are suffering, or why things are the way they are, nevertheless take every thought captive and yield your will to the providential purposes of God. “Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not rely on your own understanding (ואל־בינתך אל־תשׁען); in all your ways know Him, and He will direct your paths (Prov. 3:5-6).

A second lesson is to ensure that we are regarding the LORD as our utmost concern, our highest good, our heart’s greatest blessing. Yeshua taught that we must value our relationship with God above all else: “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. And whoever does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me” (Matt. 10:37-38). In other words, we must love God more than anything else – including our most intimate relationships with others. Of course this doesn’t mean that we should not genuinely love our families (and others), but we should rather die than deny our Savior. Indeed, should we be tempted to love someone or something more than our Lord, we must flee – whether that love be of another person, an apostle, or an angel from heaven. “God is love” does not mean “love is God,” and in relation to matters of faith, when our passion is exalted as absolute, we must instead choose faith over our passion. Love is not God, for that is the idolatry of Cupid, after all, and therefore our love must be constrained by the truth of faith. That is the reason why we must at times judge others and turn away from them. For example, if a friend who claims to be a Christian denies that Yeshua was literally raised from the dead, being “tolerant” is forbidden, since it amounts to collusion with their apostasy. Likewise if someone says they follow Christ but live as fornicators, they are to be admonished, and if they do not repent, they are to be shunned (Eph. 5:3; Rom. 1:26-28; Matt. 18:15-17). Though the Scriptures indeed teach us to love the LORD with “all our heart, soul, and strength” (Deut. 6:4-5), it is ungodliness to love anything or anyone else in this way, or to allow another person to love you in this way as well. כי יהוה קנא שׁמו אל קנא הוא – “For the LORD, whose name is Jealous, is indeed a jealous God” (Exod. 34:14).

So the test of Abraham teaches that ought always trust God, no matter our circumstances, and we ought always obey God with every fiber of our being – with all our heart, soul, and strength. That is the example of Abraham, who is called the father of the faithful, who abandoned himself in unreserved love and obedience to God. Now in light of the remarkable faith and obedience of Abraham, is your heart filled with fear and trembling? Are you – who are “of little faith” – really so assured in your relationship with God that you can honestly say that you love the LORD with all your being, and at the expense of absolutely everything? Have you been tested “unto blood, striving against sin”?

“Trying” to love God won’t take us too far, nor will doing good deeds. Something more is needed – something altogether beyond the power of the human will and its aspirations. The first step, then, is to confess your powerlessness, you inability to love God in the truth, and to ask God for the miracle of a new heart. The ability to love God is the result of a spiritual rebirth, not its cause. God chooses us and makes us come alive (John 1:12-13; 1 John 4:19).

Yeshua sets us free – he ransoms us from the prison of sin, that is, the inherent perversity of our fallen human heart, by means of the impartation of a new nature: ” Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come” (2 Cor. 5:17). God’s intervention in our hearts delivers us from the cycle of sin and shame that “binds” us within. The ransom was paid at the cross of Yeshua, where the divine exchange took place: “For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Cor. 5:21). “For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich” (2 Cor. 8:9). The cross is the place of “Moriah” – where we are taught by God – as well as the place of “Yireh” – where God’s provision for us is secured. It is the sacred center of existence, the place where God’s truth and his mercy come together (Psalm 85:10). Perhaps a further lesson concerns the journey of faith that we are “bound” to take with the LORD. Notice that the phrase “go to the land of Moriah” uses the same verb that God used to call Abraham to leave his old life behind for the Promised Land (i.e., lekh-lekha: לֶךְ־לְךָ in Gen. 12:1). So the progression of faith is first to depart from the land of your origin (i.e., from the realm of the flesh, of natural human life), and then “go for yourself” to the place of atonement and substitutionary sacrifice (i.e., the realm of the spirit, of eternal life).

Jesus saves us from the place of torment – the hell of a life lived enslaved to sin and turned inward upon itself, forever and ever. It was not the nails driven into the arms and feet of Yeshua that kept him on the cross, but his great love to redeem us from the penalty for our sins. He has redeemed us from our cursed estate by being made a curse for us (Gal. 3:13). Again, the cross is the place where God’s mercy and truth come together, and where righteousness and peace “kiss.” Because of the cross God can be vindicated as both just (in his judgment against sin) and yet the justifier of the one who trusts in his provision for deliverance. Yeshua is our “Ram caught in the thicket” – the one who takes our place in death so that we receive the blessing of the divine life. Consequently, by the agency of the Holy Spirit, we are able to be a “living sacrifice” of praise to God, no longer conformed to this fallen world but transformed by God’s indwelling power to live according to his will.

Abraham believed God and it was accounted to him as righteousness (Gen. 15:6), and he believed in the miracle of redemption and was given the oath of blessing. “Therefore those of faith are likewise the children of Abraham, as the Scripture, foreseeing that God would justify the Gentiles by faith, preached the gospel beforehand to Abraham, saying, “In you shall all the nations be blessed.” So then, those who are of faith are blessed along with Abraham, the man of faith” (Gal. 3:7-9). Amen, and may the Living God, the Faithful One, grant us hearts that are faithful and true like our father Abraham, “who is the father of us all.”
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Hebrew Lesson
Proverbs 3:5-6 Hebrew reading:

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