Galatians 2:20 – I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh, I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me.
When we study a translation of a Scripture passage we often miss out on the nuances hidden in the original Hebrew (Old Testament) or Greek (New Testament). Often, it’s not that a word is mistranslated, but that rendering the meaning in one English word is difficult if not impossible.
One such word is the word “flesh”. The often-used Greek word for “flesh”, “sarx”, forms the etymological root for our English word, “sarcophagus”. Sarcophagi are ornately adorned stone coffins where the mortal flesh of humans (usually significant in some way during their lifetime) becomes entombed. They can be quite ornate and beautifully crafted. Thus, the Greek word for “flesh”, ironically, carries in its meaning a hint of the mortal nature of the stuff we are made of, and the vessel to which it is destined. Normally, the simple word “flesh” doesn’t necessarily connote “mortality”…unless you spend some time thinking about it…
Our flesh can also be made beautiful, and many spend quite a bit of time and resources beautifying it. Yet our “sarx”, or mortal human body is also a kind of “sarcophagus” since it’s destined to decay, a temporary vessel no more eternal than a coffin.
The apostle Paul affirms that he is “crucified with Christ”; that his mortal flesh with its irrevocably sinful tendency and bondage to decay, has been identified with the Messiah in His death on the cross. Throughout his epistles, Paul frequently warns believers not to live a life “after the flesh”, that is according to its predilections and desires. Living that way could be described as being trapped within a “coffin”.
Yet Paul says in another place that “we carry this treasure in jars of clay”…[2 Cor. 4:7] i.e. that the “sarcophagi” in which we walk around are vessels of resurrection life– the very life of Messiah which was regenerated by His Spirit in us.
The great mystery and challenge of a believer’s life is that we have the constant choice whether to be a walking self-serving “sarcophagus”, or a living breathing jar of clay filled with God’s Holy Spirit and bearing all the fruit of love, joy, peace, etc.
Your “sarx” can be a self-serving coffin, or a life-giving vessel. If you are born from above, the sinful nature of your body has been crucified with Christ, and your constant life choice will be the extent to which you recognize that reality, and are filled with the resurrection life which the new birth affords. You were not given a spirit of fear, but of love, power and a sound mind. Don’t be an ornate living tomb; be a life-giving, spirit-filled jar of clay!
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]When the Lord called us to be His ambassadors, He didn’t merely give us a message — He gave us a lifestyle to embody it. An ambassador is not just a messenger, but a living representation of the Kingdom they serve. That means our behavior, words, and example all matter deeply.
As ambassadors of Christ, we don’t just represent His Kingdom–we reflect His heart. Paul’s words in Colossians 4:5-6 are not just good advice; they’re a commissioning. We are called to walk wisely among those who do not yet know Christ, recognizing that every interaction is a divine opportunity.
“All this is from God…” These words usher us into the breathtaking reality that salvation is not born of human effort, wisdom, or willpower — it is entirely the work of God. From beginning to end, it is His plan, His initiative, His unrelenting grace. Through Yeshua (Jesus), God stepped into our brokenness and reconciled us to Himself, repairing the relationship that sin had shattered. Reconciliation is not merely a theological concept — it is the restoration of intimacy with the Father. We did not ascend to Him in holiness; He descended to us in mercy. The Creator did not wait for us to find our way back. No, He came down in Yeshua, arms stretched wide in love, calling us home.
In the age of social media, where hot takes go viral, outrage spreads in seconds, and comment sections become battlegrounds, James offers a divine pattern that stands in stark contrast to the digital frenzy. His instruction is timeless but urgently needed today: be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to anger. These three commands — revolutionary yet straightforward — cut through the noise of our reaction-driven culture and call us to a Spirit-led posture in a screen-lit world.
In Matthew 21, Yeshua (Jesus) approached a fig tree full of leaves but found no fruit. He cursed it, and it withered. This dramatic act was not about the tree—it was about Israel. The fig tree had the appearance of life, but it lacked the substance of transformation. It was a warning to a nation full of religion but void of repentance. The tree became a symbol of spiritual barrenness, of form without fruit.
The parable of the fig tree is not just a message to observers — it’s a summons to the faithful. The fig tree puts out its leaves first, then comes the fruit. Spiritually, that’s a call to live in readiness even before the final harvest arrives. Yeshua (Jesus) tells His disciples, “Be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect” (Matthew 24:44).
Among all fruit-bearing trees, the fig tree is uniquely prophetic–because it is one of the few that produces two harvests in a single growing season. First comes the early crop in spring, known in Scripture as the “first ripe fig” (Isaiah 28:4), and then a second, more abundant harvest in late summer or early fall. This uncommon pattern is a living picture of prophecy woven into the fabric of creation.