Matthew 18:3 and said, "Assuredly, I say to you, unless you are converted and become as little children, you will by no means enter the kingdom of heaven.
Hebrew is the only language in the world that was completely dead as an everyday tongue and then resurrected to become a living language after thousands of years. The "Father" of modern Hebrew, Eliezer Ben-Yehuda, was devoted to restoring Hebrew for the Jewish people of our time when for centuries it was strictly a written language.
Ben-Yehuda knew that language fluency is best acquired in childhood, and thus raised his first-born son exclusively speaking Hebrew, convinced that he would become a living sign for its future revival as a living language. He believed by raising his child exclusively in Hebrew, that a national linguistic revival was possible! Ben-Yehuda's conviction and hard work inspired the usage and training of Israeli children in Hebrew at schools throughout Israel.
So it was that the children who were born in Israel and went to school, learned Hebrew first -- and since, of course, the adults didn't know Hebrew, it was the children who taught their parents.
There is a profound example in Ben-Yehuda's inspiring act of faith -- for as Yeshua said, "Unless you are changed and become like little children you cannot enter the Kingdom of Heaven." If you want to speak the language of Heaven, you must learn it as a child would learn! Little children are open, receptive, hungry to learn, believing, humble, and lighthearted. According to Yeshua (Jesus), these qualities are necessary for entry into our Lord's realm.
They are also the qualities of mature saints, who, even as they grow in Him, never lose a childlike relationship with their Heavenly Father.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]There is something deeply intentional in God’s instruction concerning the lamb. He does not tell Israel to take a lamb at the last moment — He commands them to choose it on the 10th day of Nisan, set it apart, and live with it until the 14th day. This was not random timing; it was divine design.
There is something deeply powerful in the way God introduces Passover (Pesach) in Exodus. He does not begin with a list of instructions. He begins with divine intervention. Israel is enslaved, bound under Pharaoh, and crushed beneath a system they have no power to escape. Yet right in the middle of that helplessness, God speaks: “This month shall be for you the beginning of months.”
Yeshua (Jesus) does not conclude this parable with separation alone — He brings it to its true climax in glory. After the harvest, after the revealing, after everything has been set in its proper place, He lifts our eyes beyond the process and into the purpose with a powerful promise: the righteous will shine. This is the heart of the harvest — not merely the removal of what does not belong, but the unveiling of what truly does.
Yeshua (Jesus) brings this parable to a decisive and unavoidable climax: a moment is coming when everything in the field will be uncovered for what it truly is. The harvest is not merely the end of a process — it is the unveiling. What has been growing quietly over time will suddenly stand in full clarity, with no room left for confusion, assumption, or misjudgment. In that moment, the distinction will be undeniable.
There is something deeply instructive in the restraint of the Lord. When the servants recognize the problem in the field, their instinct is immediate action. They want to fix it, remove it, clean it up. But the Lord responds in a way that challenges human urgency. He tells them to wait.
There is a deeper layer in this parable that moves beyond simply identifying the difference between wheat and tares. Yeshua (Jesus) is not only revealing that the tare looks like wheat — He is warning that what it produces has the power to affect those who partake of it. The issue is not just imitation; it is ingestion. It is not only what is growing in the field, but what is being received into the heart.
With so much disinformation and so many voices speaking into our lives, people often ask for my thoughts on who to trust and what to believe. In light of that, I believe it’s time to step into a deeper kind of discernment — becoming what I would call a fruit inspector. This series is born out of that burden: to learn how to recognize the difference between the wheat and the tares.