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]Psalm 98 is a victory psalm — a call to lift up a “new song” because the Z’roah, the holy arm of the LORD, has brought decisive triumph. In Hebrew thought, the arm is the active extension of the will, the power that brings intention into reality. To call it “holy” is to declare that it is set apart, dedicated fully to God’s purpose, incapable of corruption. The psalmist celebrates that salvation is not a hidden act, but an open demonstration — God’s righteousness revealed before the eyes of the nations.
This is one of the most intimate revelations of the Z’roah in Scripture. God looks for a human intercessor but finds none. No man can bridge the gap. So His own Arm accomplishes the work. In Hebrew, v’tosha lo zeroa — “His arm saved for Him” — reveals that salvation originates from within God Himself, not from any outside help. Isaiah adds that His own righteousness sustained Him — it upheld His resolve to save — and His fury upheld Him, a holy passion that would not rest until justice was accomplished.
To “bare” the arm means to roll up the sleeve and reveal the full readiness for action. In Isaiah’s prophecy, this is a global unveiling — no longer hidden, the Z’roah is on display for all nations to witness. This speaks directly of Yeshua’s (Jesus’) public ministry and, ultimately, His crucifixion.
The Hebrew phrase “z’roah moshel lo” paints the picture of an arm that governs with both strength and care. The same Z’roah that brought Israel out of Egypt in power now establishes righteous order and sustains His people in love. Deliverance without rulership is incomplete; the Redeemer becomes the King — and the King rules as a Shepherd. The Arm does not act independently but moves in perfect submission to the Head, carrying out the will of the Father.
I’ll be doing a series on the “Arm of God,” beginning with this first message — The Arm that Redeems. The Hebrew Z’roah (זְרוֹעַ) means “arm” or “strength,” and in ancient Hebrew culture, the arm symbolizes active power in motion — strength applied for a purpose. In the Exodus account, God tells Moses He will redeem Israel “with an outstretched arm” (bizroa netuyah). This was not poetic metaphor; it was God’s declaration of decisive intervention. The Z’roah is the covenant-keeping arm that moves history, enforces promises, and breaks oppression. Every Pesach (Passover), during the seder — the festive meal of remembrance — the roasted lamb shank bone, the Z’roah, rests on the plate as a silent yet powerful witness to God’s mighty deliverance.
These closing verses of Psalm 118 begin with an unshakable proclamation: “The LORD is God.” In Hebrew, it’s emphatic — YHVH, He is El — the declaration that all authority, holiness, and sovereignty belong to Him alone. Yet this is not just a statement of who He is — it’s a testimony of what He has done: “He has made His light to shine upon us.” This light is more than the glow of the sun — it is the revelation of His presence, the warmth of His favor, and the piercing truth that chases away every shadow. His light doesn’t simply illuminate — it transforms.
Psalm 118:24 is not merely about enjoying a new day — it is a prophetic declaration of a divinely appointed moment. “This is the day the LORD has made” speaks of a kairos moment in history when heaven and earth converge. It points to the day when Messiah would be revealed, salvation would walk into Jerusalem, and God’s covenant plan would take a dramatic step forward. This is not the casual celebration of a sunrise — it is the joyful response to God’s redemptive unfolding.