Matthew 18:3-4 And said, Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven. Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven.
One of my favorite “hidden” lessons in the Pesach (Passover) celebration “Seder” meal is the mystery of the “afikomen.” This specially prepared meal– during which the participants are reminded of Israel’s supernatural deliverance from Egyptian slavery by the mighty hand of God– also includes 3 particular pieces of matzah, (unleavened bread). These three are placed in a “matzah tash” — a special pouch containing three compartments.
Some rabbis explain these matzot (matza in plural) as representing the three Patriarchs – Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Others suggest that they represent three individual groups of Jewish people – the Priests, the Levites, and the Israelites. However appropriate these explanations may be, they seem to fall short of adequately explaining the tradition in which the leader of the Seder breaks the middle matzah in two, and hides half of it in a white linen cloth until the end of the meal. As the children finish their meal, they begin to search high and low throughout the house for the afikomen – and the one who finds it returns to the leader of the Seder demanding a reward in exchange for returning it! At the conclusion of the Seder, according to Rabbinic law, a small piece of the afikomen must be broken off and eaten by everyone present, as a reminder of the Passover lamb.
What is this “afikomen”? And what could be the real meaning concealed in this ancient tradition? I suggest that the answer to this question may be discovered when we learn that “afikomen” is not a Hebrew word, but comes from the Greek word – ikneomai – which literally means, “I CAME!” May this not point to the reality that Messiah’s first coming as the Passover “Lamb of God”, was “hidden” in some way from the Jewish people, as the Lord Himself said? [Luke 19:42]
Is it simply coincidence that matzah is pierced and striped? Or might this also be a “hidden” and providential indication of Messiah’s experience at His first coming? “He was wounded for our transgressions…” and, “by His stripes we are healed”; [Isa. 53]. Why was only the middle matzah broken? Because only the Son was “broken” for us? Why must the afikomen be wrapped in linen and hidden away? Because the Son who died was wrapped in linen and hidden away, and may only be found through inquisitive childlike faith…..which is richly rewarded….
There are so many wonderful mysteries hidden in the Hebraic roots of our faith – yet, to me, this one stands out boldly among them– that one must come to God with the faith of a child – not through intelligence, religious ritual, or human wisdom– but simply accepting His word and His promises as children, believing and trusting them. Isn’t it beautiful that the Lord chose this humble way to reveal Himself?
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]When we read the Beatitudes, we catch a glimpse of Yeshua’s heart and the values that define His Kingdom. His words unveil the kind of life that God calls blessed—marked by humility, mercy, purity of heart, a hunger for righteousness, peacemaking, and faithful endurance in the face of suffering.
We often celebrate beginnings—new chapters, breakthroughs, divine appointments. But in God’s economy, every true beginning requires a holy crossing. Before the Hebrews could enter the Promised Land, they had to leave Egypt. Before they entered the Promised Land, they had to cross over the Red Sea. And before Abraham could receive God’s promises, he had to obey a single command: “Leave.”
When the children of Israel wandered in the wilderness for forty years, they traversed a rugged, unpredictable landscape — mile after mile of mountains, valleys, rocks, and desert sands — as they journeyed from slavery in Egypt to the Promised Land.
For many, God remains a theory—an idea borrowed from tradition, deduced from the cosmos, or tucked quietly into the corners of a creed. He is believed in from afar, but is rarely encountered. Even among believers, it’s not uncommon to live with a distant reverence for God while lacking a vibrant, personal communion with Him.
God has always longed for intimacy with us. He formed us for Himself–to walk with Him, to know Him, to delight in His Presence. This is the very heartbeat of creation: relationship, not religion. Yet sin drove a wedge between us. A veil was drawn, shutting out the light of His face and placing distance where there was once communion.
A beachhead is the first critical objective in a military invasion–the spot where a force lands on enemy territory and secures a position for greater advancement. It’s the place of breakthrough. And it’s also the place of fiercest resistance.
David wrote Psalm 3 while running for his life — betrayed, heartbroken, and hunted by his own son, Absalom. The weight of rebellion wasn’t just political; it was personal. His household had turned against him. Friends became foes. Loyal hearts grew cold. The throne he once held was now surrounded by enemies, and the whispers grew louder: “There is no salvation for him in God.”