Behold the Passover Lamb!

Matthew 21:9 And the multitudes that went before, and that followed, cried, saying, Hosanna to the Son of David: Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord; Hosanna in the highest.

As thousands of believers around the world will celebrate Palm Sunday, I thought I’d offer some additional historical insight into the day Yeshua (Jesus) entered Jerusalem. Most people associate Palm Sunday with the fulfillment of Zechariah 9:9, “Behold, thy King cometh unto thee: he is just, and having salvation; lowly, and riding upon an ass, and upon a colt the foal of an ass”. But there is another significant detail associated with this beautiful fulfillment…

…it is that Yeshua entered Jerusalem on precisely the same day that the Jews would have been choosing their Passover lambs in preparation for the Pesach (Passover) Seder a few days later. Unbeknownst to them, the Lord had chosen their “Passover Lamb” who would deliver them, and the entire world from their sins [John 1:29].

As Yeshua entered into Jerusalem, the people cried “Hosanna, Son of David– which means, “Save Now, Son of David!”- quoting the cry of the psalmist for the salvation of YHVH to come to Israel; [Psalm 118:25-26]. This psalm was associated with the coming of Messiah, and the title, “Son of David” was a common reference to Him, the one who would bring YHVH’s salvation. It also contains the words, “Blessed is He that comes in the name of the Lord!” So many of the people knew who He was, yet…

…this same Psalm also contains an amazing prediction: “The stone which the builders rejected has become the cornerstone!” [Psalm 118:22]. Right there, in the same scripture, only a few verses apart, the astounding irony of Yeshua’s first advent is perfectly expressed. Received and hailed as Israel’s Messiah, He was shortly to be scorned, rejected and crucified.

This is a week to remember the humility of Yeshua, the most humble King who ever lived or died. Our love for Him grows deeper as we reflect on this gentle Shepherd’s submission, even though He was and is a King. His rejection was our acceptance. His death was our life. May we receive the grace to follow His example and so reveal His glory.

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]

Life wears us down. We live in a world of relentless motion, pressure, and performance. Yeshua (Jesus) doesn’t deny this. Instead, He speaks directly to those who are “weary and heavy-laden.” The Greek for “weary” (kopiao) means utterly worn out—soul-tired, not just physically fatigued. The burdens He mentions aren’t only external tasks but inward baggage: guilt, shame, expectations, and hidden wounds. Yeshua’s call isn’t merely an invitation to stop—it’s a call to come. He offers what no one else can: rest that restores.

When we read the promises of God, we must read them the way we ourselves want to be heard—in full context. Just as we expect others to understand our words in light of what we’ve said before, God expects us to interpret His promises in light of all He has revealed in His Word.

A few days ago, I shared a quote from B.J. Willhite, and today I want to delve deeper into his powerful insight. He wrote, “The law of prayer is the highest law of the universe—it can overcome the other laws by sanctioning God’s intervention. When implemented properly, the law of prayer permits God to exercise His sovereignty in a world under the dominion of a rebel with free will, in a universe governed by natural law.”

When God spoke to Abram, the command was clear yet profoundly personal. The Hebrew phrase lech lecha carries a dual meaning: “go forth” and “go for yourself.” This journey wasn’t just a physical relocation; it was a spiritual pilgrimage—a call to walk out God’s will and to walk into his divine inheritance. Abram’s journey was not merely about distance but about destiny.

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.

Tonight we’ll participate in the Independence Day celebration in Israel — and what a party! — shows, fireworks, music, dancing, everything under the sun!

Yesterday, Israel observed Yom HaShoah—Holocaust Remembrance Day—honoring the memory of the six million Jews who perished. Tragically, a recent poll reveals that nearly half of Israelis fear the possibility of another Holocaust. In light of this sobering reality, I want to share a powerful story of one remarkable woman who rescued 2,500 Jewish children from the ghettos during World War II.