A Covenant of Fire, Mercy, and Promise!

Genesis 15:6 And he believed the LORD, and he counted it to him as righteousness.  Genesis 15:17-18  When the sun had gone down and it was dark, behold, a smoking fire pot and a flaming torch passed between these pieces.  18 On that day, the LORD made a covenant with Abram, saying, “To your offspring I give this land, from the river of Egypt to the great river, the river Euphrates, 

In the stillness of a desert night, surrounded by cut offerings and the lingering scent of sacrifice, Abram beheld something utterly sacred — God Himself, in the form of a smoking oven and a burning torch, passing between the pieces of a covenant. It was not Abram who walked through the blood-soaked path. It was God alone. And that changes everything.

This act is one of Scripture’s clearest pictures of divine grace. Covenants in the ancient world required both parties to walk through the cut pieces, symbolizing mutual responsibility. But here, only God passes through, taking full responsibility for fulfilling His promise. He binds Himself unilaterally to Abram and his descendants—Israel. The land promise, the coming redemption, and the future inheritance were not based on man’s faithfulness but on God’s unbreakable word.

Yet the scene also shows a battle in the waiting. Before the presence of God appears, vultures descend—unclean birds seeking to steal the sacrifice (Genesis 15:11). Abram drives them away, foreshadowing every believer’s struggle. We offer God our worship, our lives, our praise—but the enemy comes, trying to rob us of our faith and steal our promises. Like Abram, we must rise up, stand guard, and fight to protect what God has spoken. Let us not passively watch while doubt, distraction, or discouragement pick apart our altars.

The symbols that appeared—smoke and fire—are rich with meaning. The smoking oven speaks of judgment, refining, and awe; the burning torch speaks of mercy, light, and hope. Together, they reveal the character of the God of Israel: just and holy, yet merciful and near. In Messiah Yeshua (Jesus), we see both realities embodied. He is Zion’s salvation that burns like a torch (Isaiah 62:1), and He is also the one cut off for the sins of His people (Isaiah 53:8). He walked between the pieces, taking on the burden of blood so that we could walk in the freedom of grace.

Yet, this covenant speaks beyond the personal—it is national. God’s promises to Abram include a literal land for his descendants, and Scripture affirms that this land promise is everlasting (Psalm 105:8-11). The modern restoration of Israel in 1948 was not the result of mere human determination—it was the unfolding of God’s unbreakable covenant. Even after dispersion and judgment, He has remained faithful.

Ezekiel 36 gives voice to His divine intention:

“… It is not for your sake, O house of Israel, that I am about to act, but for the sake of my holy name … And I will sanctify my great name, which was profaned among the heathen… and the heathen shall know that I am the LORD… when I shall be sanctified in you before their eyes. For I will take you from among the heathen, and gather you out of all countries, and will bring you into your own land. Then will I sprinkle clean water upon you… A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you…” (Ezekiel 36:22–26)

From the beginning, God’s plan has echoed with both physical return and spiritual awakening, calling His people back to their land and stirring their hearts to return to Him. His promise was never just to bring them home, but to cleanse them from defilement, ignite them with new life, and fill them with His Spirit through their Messiah. The exile is ending. The restoration has begun.

This is the same God who calls to us today. He still walks between the pieces. He still sanctifies His name through mercy and judgment. And He still offers to remove hearts of stone and replace them with hearts of flesh. In Yeshua, we become part of this redemptive story—grafted in, renewed, and rooted in eternal promise. (Romans 11:11-32)

So rise up, and stand your ground. Bring your offering of praise with boldness. Guard the altar of your heart—drive away every vulture that dares to steal what God has spoken. Trust the One who walked the blood-stained path alone. His fire has not gone out. His torch still blazes in the darkness. And His covenant promises remain unshakable, eternal, and true.

Copyright 1999-2025 Worthy Devotions. This devotional was originally published on Worthy Devotions and was reproduced with permission.

How to display the above article within the Worthy Suite WordPress Plugin.

[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]

Elul is unlike any other month. As we mentioned yesterday, it is the 12th month on the civil calendar and the 6th on the prophetic calendar. This dual position gives Elul a unique character — it both closes a cycle and prepares for a new one. That is why the shofar sounds each day during Elul: it is a wake-up call, reminding us to reflect, repent, and return to the Lord before the great and awesome days of the Fall Feasts.

This begins a very special season on God’s calendar — the month of preparation before the Fall Feasts. The month of Elul is unique: it is the 12th month on the civil calendar and the 6th month on the prophetic/biblical calendar. Each day of Elul is marked by the blowing of the shofar, a trumpet call that awakens the soul. These daily blasts prepare our hearts for Yom Teruah (the Feast of Trumpets, Rosh Hashanah) and ultimately for Yom Kippur (the Day of Atonement).

We have come to the final meditation in this journey through the Z’roah, the Arm of the LORD. From the Arm that redeemed Israel out of Egypt, to the Arm that pierced the dragon, to the Arm that is coming with reward — all of these revelations lead us here: the Arm that brings His people into rest.

Isaiah’s vision looks ahead — not only to the Arm of the LORD revealed in the Exodus or even in the cross, but to the day when that same Arm will come again in glory. This is not a picture of brute force but of purposeful arrival. The Z’roah — the Arm of the LORD — comes clothed with strength to establish His rule, and He does not come empty-handed. His reward is with Him, and His work is before Him. The promise is sure: He is coming, and He is rewarding.

Isaiah recalls the Exodus as the supreme display of God’s Z’roah, His Arm of glory. Though the people saw Moses raise his staff over the Red Sea, it was not Moses’ power that split the waters. Behind the prophet’s hand was the Arm of the LORD — majestic, glorious, and unstoppable. The sea parted not to honor Moses, but to exalt the Name of the God who sent him. The Red Sea became a stage for God to reveal His glory, so that His Name would echo through generations as the Deliverer of His people.

Jeremiah uttered these words when everything around him looked hopeless. Babylon’s armies surrounded Jerusalem, the city was on the brink of destruction, and yet God told Jeremiah to buy a field as a prophetic sign that restoration would come. The prophet responded in awe: the God who created the heavens and the earth by His outstretched arm (bizroa netuyah) is not bound by human circumstances. The same God who set galaxies in place and boundaries for the seas is the God who still moves to redeem His people. Truly, nothing is too hard for Him.

Isaiah’s words summon one of the most dramatic images of God’s saving power: the Z’roah — the Arm of the LORD — cutting Rahab in pieces and piercing the dragon.

Here, Rahab is not the woman of Jericho but a poetic name for Egypt (Psalm 87:4), often symbolizing arrogant nations and the dark spiritual powers behind them. In Hebrew poetry, Rahab also evokes the sea monster of chaos, a stand-in for the forces that oppose God’s order. To say the Arm “cut Rahab in pieces” is to recall how God shattered Egypt’s pride and broke the grip of the powers that enslaved His people.