1 Corinthians 10:8 We must not indulge in sexual immorality as some of them did, and twenty-three thousand fell in a single day.
Numbers 25:1-3 Now Israel remained in Acacia Grove, and the people began to commit harlotry with the women of Moab. They invited the people to the sacrifices of their gods, and the people ate and bowed down to their gods. So Israel was joined to Baal of Peor, and the anger of the Lord was aroused against Israel.
When the Apostle Paul wrote this letter to the Corinthians, he was speaking to a church that was surrounded with sexual immorality. The city of Corinth was a haven of hedonism where many temples hosted hundreds of prostitutes which were visited by vast multitudes of foreigners. In the ancient world, the term “Corinthianize” indicated a life of sexual promiscuity.
Paul connects the situation in Corinth with that which is found in Numbers 25. With YHVH’s blessing on the young Israelite nation, the prophet Balaam was unable to obey the king of Moab’s (Balak) command to curse Israel. But because Balaam was a self-serving prophet, practicing both divination (Numbers 24:1) and giving voice to the words of YHVH, he was willing to advise Balak to seduce the men of Israel with the Moabite women, causing Israel to fall into idolatry which brought God’s judgment upon them. (Numbers 31:16) Balaam understood that living in holiness and sexual purity is a great protection, and that fornication and adultery would bring a curse with them.
Sexual sin is serious, and it is rampant in our time. There seems to be almost no escaping the temptation of licentiousness at every corner. But C.S. Lewis offered this advice to a friend, still worth heeding as much as possible: “We must learn by experience to avoid either trains of thought or social situations which for us (not necessarily for everyone) lead to temptations. Like motoring (driving) — don’t wait till the last moment before you put on the brakes, but put them on, gently and quietly, while the danger is still a good way off.”
The spirit of Corinth is everywhere, as we all can see. The greatest protection is abiding with the Lord in our determination to reject a “Corinthian” life of hedonism (living for pleasure), and to cultivate a godly and beautiful vision of marriage and sexuality, for ourselves and our loved ones. That vision will inspire us to navigate these licentious times, avoid trouble spots, and put on the brakes gently and firmly.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]These verses capture one of the most profound Messianic truths in all of Scripture. What man cast aside, God exalted. What the builders saw as flawed and unfit, God chose as the foundation of His eternal plan. Yeshua (Jesus), the rejected One, is the very cornerstone upon which salvation, identity, and destiny are built. This is more than a theological concept — it’s a divine reversal that reveals the heart of redemption. Rejection by man does not disqualify–it often qualifies you for God’s greatest purposes.
These verses are far more than ancient lyrics — they are a spiritual invitation. The psalmist doesn’t just admire the gate — he pleads for it to open. “Open to me the gates of righteousness…” This is the cry of a heart that longs for access to God, not by merit, but by mercy. In Hebrew thought, gates represent transition points — thresholds between the common and the holy, the outside and the inner court, the temporal and the eternal. These are not man-made doors — they are divine entrances into the presence and promises of the LORD.
As we continue our study in Psalm 118, I want to take a deep dive into verses 17-18, where the psalmist makes one of the boldest declarations in all of Scripture: “I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the LORD.” This isn’t the voice of someone untouched by pain — it’s the cry of someone who has been through the fire and come out declaring God’s faithfulness. This statement is not a denial of suffering; it’s a defiance of death. It’s the resolve of a heart that’s been chastened, refined, and pressed, yet remains confident in the God who preserves life — not just for survival, but for purpose.
Over the past two devotionals, we heard the song of the redeemed and stood at the wells of salvation. We saw how strength, song, and salvation flow from Yeshua Himself — how the joy of drawing from His presence is not just a poetic promise but a lifeline for our day. Yet today, we stand at a prophetic threshold. Something has shifted. Something has broken open. We are not only being refreshed — we are being awakened and called.
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.