Proverbs 6:16-19 There are six things that the LORD hates, seven that are an abomination to him: haughty eyes, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked plans, feet that make haste to run to evil, a false witness who breathes out lies, and one who sows discord among brothers.
“One that sows discord among brothers” is an abomination to God. It’s an amazing passage that is often overlooked when considering offenses which God hates.
The events presently taking place around the world are causing more discord among people than I’ve seen in my lifetime. Everyone I’ve spoken with from around the world seems to agree that this phenomenon is increasing. And while it’s understandable that people in the world are cracking and conflicted under pressure, it’s even more troubling that this fracturing and division seems to be affecting the body of Messiah as well.
A particularly sad example of this surrounds the recently opened television station (Shelanu TV) in Israel developed by believers in Yeshua for communicating the Gospel to a Hebrew speaking audience. Amazingly, what could well be seen as a breakthrough in freedom of speech and the expression of NT faith in a substantially unreached nation, has been bitterly attacked by some believers calling for the station’s removal.
Of course, everyone vehemently believes he’s on GOD’S side of the argument. It would seem to be crystal clear that, as the Apostle Paul states, the Gospel is “to the Jew first”. And how could anyone dispute that it was always the heart of God to reach the Jewish people with the Gospel. Paul even said he could wish himself to be accursed if only His people Jewish people might be saved. And we should absolutely share that passion with him.
But what counsel might we offer in a situation like this one? Apart from the details of the argument, and the passions on either side of it, I believe we need to follow Paul’s instruction to Timothy: “The servant of the Lord must not be quarrelsome, but be kind to everyone, able to teach, patiently enduring evil, correcting his opponents in gentleness … that they may recover themselves out of the snare of the enemy.”
It’s an attitude; not so much the “words”, but “the music”, the tone of the discussion, the way we “argue”. Because, while there will always be disagreements and controversies among us, discord, and those who sow it are walking in the flesh, the sinful nature, a self-righteous and belligerent attitude, which is an abomination to our Lord. As passionate as we may be over an issue, we ought to remember that it’s so easy to get in the flesh and sow discord among our brothers and sisters. But it’s one of the things God hates, so keep it in mind.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]Yesterday, we heard the anthem of the redeemed rise like a trumpet blast: “The LORD is my strength and song, and He has become my salvation.” We explored how this was more than personal — it was prophetic, Messianic, and generational. We saw Yeshua not only as our Deliverer but as the very embodiment of God’s strength, the melody of our praise, and the fulfillment of every promise. We stood in awe as tents of rejoicing rose in the midst of warfare, and households became sanctuaries of celebration. But today, we go deeper — we step to the well.
There’s a reason this verse resounds like a national anthem of the redeemed. It’s not just a personal declaration—it’s a generational cry that echoes back to Moses at the Red Sea (Exodus 15:2) and forward to the final deliverance of Israel. The Hebrew word for salvation—Yeshua—makes this verse unmistakably Messianic. It isn’t a vague deliverance. It is the revelation of Yeshua (Jesus), the Deliverer, who embodies strength, becomes our song, and stands as the fulfillment of God’s redemptive plan.
The cry that shattered the stillness of Golgotha—“My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” (Psalm 22:1; Matthew 27:46)—was not a random cry of despair, but the deliberate voice of Yeshua pointing to Scripture. As He hung on the tree, bearing the sin of the world, He invoked the ancient words of David—not only identifying Himself as the righteous sufferer, but signaling that Psalm 22 was unfolding before their very eyes. In that moment, heaven and earth bore witness to a divine mystery: the Holy One, seemingly abandoned, was fulfilling a prophecy written a millennium earlier. Yeshua did not merely suffer—He fulfilled every word, every shadow, every stroke of divine prophecy.
King David wrote these words generations before the empty tomb shook the foundations of death. At first glance, Psalm 16 reads like a personal prayer of trust — a yearning for security and closeness with God. But beneath the surface, the Spirit was revealing something deeper, something eternal: a promise not just for David, but for all of us.
The majestic Messianic prophecy of Isaiah 9 culminates in a powerful declaration: “The zeal of the Lord of hosts will perform this.” Not might. Not maybe. Not if we work hard enough. It will be done — because God Himself is passionate to see it through. The Hebrew word for “zeal” here is קִנְאָה (kin’ah), which also means jealousy or burning passion. This is not passive interest — it’s the fiery determination of the LORD of Hosts to establish His Kingdom. The same fiery zeal that struck Egypt with plagues—shattering the power of false gods, that parted the Red Sea and made a way where there was none, that birthed a nation from the womb of slavery, and that drove the Son of God to the cross at Calvary — is the very zeal that will fulfill every promise declared in Isaiah 9.
In a world weary from political upheaval, moral confusion, and fleeting peace, Isaiah offers us a vision of something profoundly different—an ever-increasing kingdom ruled by a King whose justice is not compromised, whose peace is not fleeting, and whose throne is eternally secure. The phrase “of the increase of His government and peace there will be no end” speaks not just of duration, but of expansion—a kingdom that doesn’t plateau, doesn’t weaken, and doesn’t shrink back in the face of darkness. Instead, it advances, multiplies, and transforms.
In the Hebraic understanding, a name isn’t just a label—it reveals essence, identity, and destiny. Isaiah doesn’t say these are merely descriptions of the Messiah; he says His Name shall be called — meaning this is who He is. When we declare these names, we are not offering poetic praise — we are calling upon real attributes of the living King. In just one verse, the prophet unveils the depth of Messiah’s personhood, showing us that this child is no ordinary child. He is the fulfillment of heaven’s promise and the revelation of God’s nature.