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?
Copyright 1999-2025 Worthy Devotions. This devotional was originally published on Worthy Devotions and was reproduced with permission.
How to display the above article within the Worthy Suite WordPress Plugin.
[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]Rockets are flying through the skies of Israel and many are landing on the ground. Emails are also flying through cyberspace as people all over the world express support through prayer for us and our nation. Words cannot express our gratitude for your care and concern. In times like these the best and the worst are brought out in people: either the peace, confidence, and strength which come from faith, or the fear and panic which overwhelms the souls of worldly men.
Since moving to Israel we’ve been thrust into a Middle Eastern culture of “extreme hospitality”. The above parable from Luke takes place in a similar cultural context, and it powerfully illustrates how God wants us to approach Him.
Unless you’re up on your biology, you’re probably wondering, “What in the world is a coney?” I certainly was. After doing a little research, I discovered that a coney is a rock badger.
I ran across a profound story that shows what happens when the family structure breaks down — but this didn’t have to do with people — it had to do with elephants.
As some of you may know, a bomb exploded in a bus within blocks of our Jerusalem apartment when we first moved to Israel. That morning, my wife and I, along with our newborn baby, were heading to the city center to run a few errands when suddenly we heard the explosion. Within minutes, the sirens were screaming from every part of the city as officials quickly made their way to the scene. Later that month, the bus I was supposed to be on drove away as I watched it carry away the 50 or so people who would be critically injured and the 8 who would be dead seconds later, when that bus exploded before my very eyes. So, to put it mildly, we have seen firsthand how terrorism works and how it affects people.
Today marks Holocaust Memorial day here in Israel. At ten o’clock in the morning on this day, war sirens sound calling the entire Land to remembrance of the 6,000,000 Jews who died and many more who suffered under the Nazi regime during WW2. People in their homes and workplaces rise in silence; cars come to a halt, even on the highways; pedestrians stop where they are and pause… for one minute as the sirens wail, we remember.
We know a Christian woman who has struggled with her past for years. She rarely thinks or speaks of anything else. And as a result, her life has just spiraled downward, despite all our attempts to minister to her. It breaks our hearts to see.