John 1:36 and he looked at Jesus as he walked by and said, “Behold, the Lamb of God!”
After forty years of wandering in the wilderness, Israel finally crossed into the Promised Land—on the 10th day of Nissan, the very day they had been commanded to choose their Passover lamb [Exodus 12:3 , Joshua 4:19]. They couldn’t enter into their inheritance until a lamb was chosen—a powerful foreshadowing of the more excellent Lamb to come, in preparation for the Passover [Joshua 5:10], they were about to observe at Gilgal.
Two thousand years ago, on the 10th day of Nissan, Yeshua (Jesus)—the Lamb of God [John 1:36]—entered Jerusalem to the shouts of “Hosanna!” on what we now call Palm Sunday. Just as Israel had to choose their lamb before stepping into the Promised Land, we too must choose our Lamb before stepping into the life God has prepared for us.
But before they could possess the land, God called them to a moment of consecration. At Gilgal, every male born during the wilderness journey was circumcised—a second time [Joshua 5:2]. This act was far more than physical; it was deeply symbolic. It marked a spiritual rebirth, a setting apart for God, and it pointed forward to a more profound truth: the need for spiritual circumcision, a transformation not of the flesh but of the heart. It foreshadowed the message Yeshua later declared—that unless one is born again, they cannot see the kingdom of God [John 3:3].
Gilgal—meaning “the rolling away place” and a wordplay on the Hebrew Galal—became a powerful symbol of renewal and identity. It was there that God rolled away Egypt’s reproach [Joshua 5:9], wiping away the shame of slavery and the remnants of their past. In that moment of obedience, Israel didn’t just enter a new land; they stepped into a fresh beginning, marked by a renewed covenant and a restored relationship with their God.
But galal doesn’t just mean to remove or roll—it carries echoes of deeper things. It’s used when stones are rolled from wells and tombs, when burdens are lifted, when shame is taken away. The word even shares its root with gulgoleth, the Hebrew word for skull—a word that echoes into the New Testament as Golgotha, the place of the skull. Isn’t it just like God to embed gospel truths even in the language of His people? From Gilgal to Golgotha, He was crafting a redemptive pattern—a rolling away of reproach through blood and sacrifice.
At Golgotha, Yeshua did far more than roll away the shame of a nation—He took upon Himself the sin, guilt, and condemnation of all who would believe. On that sacred hill, the stone of separation was rolled away. Through His sacrifice on the cross and the power of His resurrection, every curse was broken, every sin forgiven, and every trace of reproach completely removed.
While one man’s failure condemned all, but with one righteous act opened the door to forgiveness and new life for everyone [Romans 5:18]. The place once marked by death—Golgotha—became the ground of redemption, where Yeshua triumphed, overturning death and ushering in the beginning of everlasting life.
And isn’t it striking? Just as Joshua sealed the fate of five kings by rolling a stone [Joshua 10:16-18] and placed guards to watch them, so was Yeshua sealed in a tomb with Roman guards stationed outside. But when the stone was rolled away, it wasn’t to let Yeshua out, but rather to let the world see He emerged as the risen King, not in defeat, but in victory. The curse He bore on the tree was our curse. The life He now lives is our promise.
So let us come to our Gilgal moment—our Golgotha moment—this Passover season and remember: every shame can be rolled away, every reproach removed. Because of Yeshua, your past no longer defines you. The weight you once carried has been lifted. You are free to walk in the power of resurrection life. The stone has been rolled away. The tomb stands empty. The King is alive—and He did it all for you. Isn’t that worth celebrating?
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]We have seen that names have significant meanings, and as discussed earlier, Elimelech, whose name means “My God is King”, left Bethlehem with Naomi his wife and their two sons. The birth of these two boys must have brought joy and happiness, yet, having perished in Moab actually caused their very names to lose their original meanings.
As we commemorate the 80th anniversary of D-Day, leaders from around the world gather to honor those who served and died to deliver Europe and the world from the Nazis during World War 2.
During the Biblical festival of Shavuot, the book of Ruth is read. It’s a powerful story of faith, restoration and redemption. The book opens with a famine in all the land surrounding Bethlehem, forcing a difficult decision upon Naomi’s husband, Elimelech. Now, Bethlehem (beth: “house”, lechem: “bread”) literally means “house of bread”, so the irony of Elimelech’s departure from his home, “house of bread”, during a famine, is lost on English speaking readers, but reveals that every detail in the word of God can be meaningful, especially the meanings of names.
One of my favorite ministers of the Gospel is D.L. Moody. He tells a story about having heard Pastor Henry Varley once say that, “The world has yet to see what God will do with and for and through the man who is fully and wholly consecrated to Him.”
The Lord is quoted in this scripture in Matthew and it contains an important principle which I think we sometimes tend to overlook. Many believe and even teach that if someone acquires much material prosperity, then God has surely given them favor, and that if someone is undergoing extreme trial, it must be because they have sinned or that they lack faith. But the Lord says that the sun rises and the rain falls on both the righteous and the unrighteous alike. A life of good circumstances does not necessarily mean that God is with us. And likewise, a life of trial and suffering does not mean that God is not with us!
The African Impala (an African antelope) are amazing creatures that can jump to a height of over 10 feet and cover a distance greater than 30 feet. Yet Impalas can be kept in a zoo inside an enclosure with a simple 3 foot wall. Why? Impalas will not jump if they can’t see where their feet will land. Do we have something in common with these antelopes? Able to take great leaps of faith, but refusing to do it unless we can see where we’ll land?
An aging king woke up one day to the realization that should he drop dead, there would be no male in the royal family to take his place. He was the last male in the royal family in a culture where only a male could succeed to the throne – and he was aging. He decided that if he could not give birth to a male, he would adopt a son who then could take his place but he insisted that such an adopted son must be extraordinary in every sense of the word. So he launched a competition in his kingdom, open to all boys, no matter what their background. Ten boys made it to the very top.