Psalms 27:1,5,14The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? 5 For he will hide me in his shelter in the day of trouble; he will conceal me under the cover of his tent; he will lift me high upon a rock. 14 Wait for the LORD; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the LORD!
Traditionally in Jewish spirituality, these 40 days of prayer and repentance beginning the 1st of Elul to Yom Kippur parallel the 40 days that Moses spent on the mountain [Exodus 34:28] pleading God’s forgiveness for Israel’s sin of creating and worshiping the golden calf. Interestingly, Psalm 27 is read each day of the month of Elul, along with the shofar blast in preparation for Yom Kippur (Day of Atonement).
Ancient Jewish sages teach that Elul is an intense season of repentance and reckoning, preparing for a direct “face to face” encounter with God. Their belief is that such repentance qualifies us to be in right standing with the Almighty, able to speak to Him without any hindrances, “face to face” as Moses did as God’s friend; [Exodus 33:11]. Moses waited on the LORD for 40 days until his face radiated the glory of God; so the daily exhortation in Psalm 27 “Seek my face” [verse 8], serves for them as an exhortation during this season, with the expectation of a divine encounter.
How does seeking God’s face in the presence of enemies (the major theme of Psalm 27) relate to Moses’ 40 days on Mount Sinai? Simply that the sin of Israel’s idolatrous worship opened the door for God’s judgment, often manifested as enemy invasion. And turning back to Him was the only sure protection. Moses did this as an intercessor for the nation, as such, typifying the intercessory work of the Messiah, descending from the mountain radiant with the glory of God on His face, and carrying a second presentation of YHVH’s word, the Ten Commandments.
We know, however, that repentance alone, no matter how fervent or persistent, does not qualify us for a “face-to-face” encounter with God and that the Law of Moses is insufficient to provide for us the righteousness God requires for intimate communion with Him. In fact, the apostle Paul describes the covenant of Moses: “…the ministry of death, written and engraved on stones…[2 Corinthians 3:7], even though it appeared with the glory of God on His servant’s face.
But, “..we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as by the Spirit of the Lord;” [2 Corinthians 3:18]. Beholding the glory of Messiah, waiting on Him in this, or any season, will cause us to radiate His nature, presence, and love. This is the amazing glory of the New Covenant in His blood, access to the very presence of God through Yeshua the Messiah. Spend time in His Presence, radiate His glory.
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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.