John 4:35 Do you not say, ‘There are still four months and then comes the harvest’? Behold, I say to you, lift up your eyes and look at the fields, for they are already white for harvest!
Here’s an interesting fact about American church history that you may not know. Years ago, when the first New England churches were designed, they were built with clear windows rather than the stained glass ones we see so often today — and the graveyard was usually built in the churchyard, which would normally be seen from the pulpit. Why?
It was so that the pastor could see the graveyard while he preached and be reminded of the urgency of his message! It was so he could be reminded that everyone who sat in the pews before him as he spoke, would eventually fill a place in that cemetery outside the window and ultimately have to stand before God to be judged. Can you imagine?
Back then, the first and foremost priority of the church was to bring men and women into a right relationship with the Lord. What’s happened to us that we’ve started building churches with windows you can’t see through!?
There is a harvest outside! Let’s uncloud our windows and give ourselves to the work that needs to be done! Let’s make a commitment to share the good news with someone today!
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This evening will begin the Biblical feast of Yom Kippur. Yom Kippur, which literally means Day of Coverings, can be a day of deep reflection on what the Lord has done for us. As Yeshua (Jesus) died on the cross 2000 years ago, the Gospel describes how the veil in the Temple was torn in two. This profound spiritual event reveals that the Lord gave all whose sins are covered by His blood access to the Holy of Holies, as He had become our High Priest in addition to being, Himself, the perfect sacrifice for sin.
As we celebrated Yom Teruah (Feast of Trumpets) and are in the midst of “Yamin Noraim” or the days of awe, the days between the Feast of Trumpets and Yom Kippur, it is the season of repentance.
This is the season that the shofar (rams horn) is blown to heed the call of warning to repent from our sins and be clean. The shofar’s unique sounding blast is a wake-up call to all who will hear.
As we find ourselves in the midst of the Yamim Noraim (Days of Awe), our hearts are centered this week on repentance as we prepare for Yom Kippur, which is approaching this Friday. In this spirit, I want to share something I discovered while studying the Jewish roots of many of Yeshua’s (Jesus’) parables. I came across an insightful teaching from a Jewish Rabbi, which I believe holds a valuable lesson for us today.
After our very small wedding in Jerusalem, my wife and I planned to have the big ceremony she’d always dreamed of, in Havre De Grace, Maryland. Rivka had it planned it to the tee. It was an outdoor wedding next to the longest standing lighthouse on the east coast. We were going to wow our guests with an entrance by way of sailboat. Ten dancers with candles in glasses were to proceed my beautiful bride as I awaited her under our hand-crafted chuppa, lit by the sunset on the bay.
Between Rosh HaShannah and Yom Kippur are ten days. These days are known as “Yamim Noraim”, “the Days of Awe” — or also translated, the “Awesome days”. In Judaism it has been long believed that these days seal your fate for the upcoming year — and also allude to your final destiny, concerning whether your name continues to be written in the Book of Life.
One of the major themes of Rosh Hashana is called Akedat Yitzchak, which means the Binding of Isaac. According to Jewish tradition, God told Abraham that the ram’s horn – otherwise known as a shofar – should be blown on Rosh Hashana to remind people of the sacrifice that God provided Himself when Abraham was about to offer Isaac on Mount Moriah.
The concept of ownership often influences how one can view the world, but if we recognize the truth that our time here is short and we can’t take anything with us, it will change our perspective. We are simply stewards of what has been entrusted to us. I’ve been running Worthy and its sites for 25 years, and I’ve never thought I was an owner but rather a steward of a ministry.