“The LORD your God will raise up for you a prophet like me from among you, from your brothers — it is to him you shall listen” (Deut. 18:15). So who was this “prophet like Moses”? Islam claims it was Muhammad, though that is certainly false, since the true prophet to come would be a Jew who would be from the people Israel, not from another nation, and particularly not from the descendants of Ishmael. So what characteristics were to mark this extraordinary Jewish prophet to come? To answer that question intelligently, we must first consider the life of Moses so that we might detect the foreshadowing of the one who would be “like” him, that is, a prophet who would serve as an analog to his mission and life. Consider, then that after being chosen by God to deliver Israel from bondage during the time of the Exodus, Moses became 1) the mediator (priest) of the covenant between God and the Jewish people, 2) the legislator the various commandments of the Torah, and 3) the prophet who received the vision of the Mishkan (the Altar), the future exile, and the ultimate destiny and glory of Zion. Moses was extraordinary because as the mediator of Israel, he instituted various sacrificial rites before the laws of sacrifice were enacted. For example, he instituted the Passover sacrifice in Egypt (Exod. 12:1-11), and when the people later reached Mount Sinai, he offered blood sacrifices to ratify the terms of the covenant (Exod. 24:8). As the great legislator of Israel, Moses declared the terms of the covenant, serving as its voice of authority. And finally, Moses ascended the mountain and received the prophetic vision of the Mishkan (Tabernacle) before the priesthood had been instituted in Israel (Exod. 25:8-9). And even after the laws of the priests were proclaimed and the Mishkan was set up, Moses went before the very Holy of Holies to hear the Voice of the LORD, even though technically speaking this was forbidden, since he was not a kohen (i.e., descendant of Aaron). Indeed our Torah portion this week (i.e., parashat Naso) concludes, “And when Moses went into the tent of meeting to speak with the LORD, he heard the Voice speaking to him from above the mercy seat (i.e., kapporet: כַּפּרֶת) that was on the Ark of the Testimony, from between the two cherubim; and it spoke to him” (Num. 7:89).
“A prophet like unto me…” (Deut. 18:15). I mention all this because some people stumble over the fact that Yeshua, who was from the tribe of Judah, served as Israel’s High Priest of the New Covenant. Of course this issue is addressed in the Book of Hebrews, where the role of the Malki-Tzedek priesthood is ascribed to King Yeshua (Heb. 5:6-11; 7:1-19), but it is important to realize that Moses himself foresaw the coming of the Messiah as Israel’s great prophet, priest and King (Deut. 18:15-19; John 5:36). Indeed, just as Moses himself was “outside” the law by serving as Israel’s priest but nevertheless was commissioned by God Himself, so also with Yeshua, who instituted the sacrifice of His blood as the Lamb of God and who went directly before God’s Throne to intercede on our behalf.
Hebrew Lesson:
For more on this subject, see “Moses’ Prophecy of the Messiah.”
It’s been said that God sends each soul into the world with a special message to deliver, a revelation that only he or she can disclose… No one else can bring your message to this world – only you can do this. And since God is entirely unique, you are called to be who you were created to be, not someone else. On his deathbed Reb Zusya said, “I am not afraid that the Holy One will ask me, ‘Zusya, why were you not more like Moses?’ Rather, I fear the Holy One will say, ‘Zusya, why were you not more like Zusya?’
The late Henri Nouwen said that there are two great fears (or wounds) that we all face. The first is the fear that we were not wanted at the time of our birth into this world, and the second is that we will not be wanted at the time of our death. “Not being welcome is your greatest fear. It connects with your birth fear, your fear of not being welcome in this life, and your death fear, your fear of not being welcome in the life after this. It is the deep-seated fear that it would have been better if you had not lived” (Inner Voice of Love). If you carry a wound of abandonment within your heart – if you live in dread over your worth as a human being, seriously wondering whether it would have been better had you never been born, then you know the taste of hell itself – the emotional prison of feeling lost, defective, rejected, shameful – unable to love or to be loved…
CAN YOU EXPOUND THE essential meaning of the “gospel” (εὐαγγέλιον) in a single (and preferably short) sentence? How about “Yeshua the Messiah came into the world to save sinners” (1 Tim 1:15), or perhaps, “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)? Of course “unpacking” the meaning of these sentences is where things get more difficult, but a succinct expression of faith can often provide us with a starting point…
Shalom chaverim yakarim. In this “Daily Dvar broadcast” (see link below) I discuss what I have called the “blessing of holy desperation” (ברכת יֵאוּשׁ הקדוש), which I define as that very special blessing of needing God so viscerally that you would otherwise fall apart or even self-destruct apart from his ongoing intervention in your life. It is this great blessing of “brokenness” that reveals God’s compassion and grace in our lives… I hope you will find it helpful.
Shalom friends. Our Lord foretold that in the “end of days” there would be perilous times — moral, political, ethnic, and spiritual chaos throughout the world, “as it was in the days of Noah.” Of Noah’s generation the Torah says: “The LORD saw that the wickedness of humanity was great in the earth, and that every intention of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually, so that it grieved the LORD to his heart” (Gen. 6:5-6). Indeed, Paul’s description of the character of people before the time of the end is chillingly accurate of our present generation (see 2 Tim. 3:1-7).
Our hearts speak the language of “poetry,” using poetic expressions of truth, since declarative words are never enough to convey the heart of the matter. When God created the heavens and the earth, he “sang” them into being – the words he used composed a song – and its melody resounds with the emotional weight of his grace and his glory. Therefore we can speak of the “poetry of creation” – its meaning, form, sound, rhythm – expressing the artistry of God as the Creator (Psalm 19:1-4). The various psalms of the Bible are also musical and lyric (i.e., to be accompanied with a lyre), because prayer, meditation, and worship are expressed in the hue and color of emotional feelings, or the language of the heart… These include expressions of praise, cries of lament, sighs for deliverance, and so on. In fact, poetic language is found throughout the Scriptures. Consider the various metaphors, similes, hyperboles, symbols, allusions, equivocations, parables, allegories, prophetic signs and visions – all formed from words of the heart.
Shalom friends. Soren Kierkegaard understood the “self” – that is, what is most essential to what you really are – to be a “dialectical relationship” you have with your own inner life, namely, with your thoughts, your feelings, and so on. He famously said: “The self is a relation which relates to itself, or that in the relation which is its relating to itself. The self is not the relation but the relation’s relating to itself” (Sickness unto Death). This might seem like a nonsense statement, but what Kierkegaard meant was that you are always having a conversation with yourself, and there – in that dialog or “dialectic” – you are always deciding what matters most to you, what you really want, what you choose to believe, and so on. As strange as it may sound, “you” are always in relationship with yourself – both as speaker and hearer, and you are also the one who reasons and makes judgments about what to do in the midst of the ongoing conversation… Now what is most significant about this inner discourse, this “court of decision,” is both the reasons for or against something, as well as the moral competence and authority of the judge. How could the “divided self” be unified, after all, if it made decisions that were not based on reality and truth?
When the disciples asked Yeshua how they should pray, he began with the words: “Our Heavenly Father, sacred is your name; may your kingdom come, may your will be done…” (Matt. 6:9-10). You might overlook it, but these words imply that God’s kingdom is not naturally within us, and indeed, as Yeshua taught elsewhere, what is “naturally” within the heart is just the opposite: “For from within, out of the heart of a person, come evil reasonings (οἱ διαλογισμοὶ οἱ κακοι), adulteries, fornications, murders, thefts, covetousness, wickedness, deceit, lewdness, an evil eye, blasphemy, pride, foolishness. All these evil things come from within and defile a person” (Mark 7:21-23). So when Yeshua told the Pharisees that the kingdom of God is “within you,” he meant that the kingdom is a matter of a heart that has been reborn by the Spirit – not that people are naturally endowed with a divine “spark” (ניצוץ) within them. No, the default condition of the unregenerated heart is one of selfish autonomy that refuses to submit to God’s right to reign. Its creed is: “I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul” (Henley). The natural man is a rebel against God; a usurper of the prerogatives of God, and therefore he “eats from the apple” to define “good” and “evil” in his own self-serving terms….