Matthew 5:9 Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.
“Blessed are the peacemakers”…when the term “peacemaker” is used the initial thought is of someone who keeps the peace between two opposing parties. A “peacemaker” solves dilemmas often without the force of violence, although the threat of violence is sometimes present and to be used if necessary.
When I was growing up, I watched dozens of westerns where the sheriffs — or the good guys — were armed with the Colt 45 “peacemaker.” How ironic that one of the most famous guns of the 1800’s was named the “peacemaker”. The rationality is simply you can only have peace through strength.
When Jesus (Yeshua), the Prince of Peace (in Hebrew the “Sar Shalom”) returns again, He will usher in the Messianic age of Shalom — His strength will be on display as He rules with a “rod of iron.”
Interestingly enough, as I was studying the Hebrew New Testament, the word “peacemaker” has a completely different connotation than our understanding in English. The word peacemaker in Hebrew is the phrase “rod-fey shalom”.
Shalom has a much richer meaning than simply the word peace. It can also mean completeness, prosperity, safety, contentment, health, blessing and rest. The word “rod-fey” in Hebrew literally means to “run after” or “to chase!”
So, in Hebrew it says to “chase after shalom” — to run after God’s shalom! And one can only find God’s shalom through our “Sar Shalom” – our Prince of Peace!
Let’s strive to reach a new level of intimacy with our Lord! Let’s run after a deeper knowledge of our Lord and in doing so, we’ll experience new levels of peace, contentment, blessing and rest! With so much work to be done, isn’t it good to know this is available to us NOW through our Sar Shalom!
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]When the children of Israel wandered in the wilderness for forty years, they traversed a rugged, unpredictable landscape — mile after mile of mountains, valleys, rocks, and desert sands — as they journeyed from slavery in Egypt to the Promised Land.
For many, God remains a theory—an idea borrowed from tradition, deduced from the cosmos, or tucked quietly into the corners of a creed. He is believed in from afar, but is rarely encountered. Even among believers, it’s not uncommon to live with a distant reverence for God while lacking a vibrant, personal communion with Him.
God has always longed for intimacy with us. He formed us for Himself–to walk with Him, to know Him, to delight in His Presence. This is the very heartbeat of creation: relationship, not religion. Yet sin drove a wedge between us. A veil was drawn, shutting out the light of His face and placing distance where there was once communion.
A beachhead is the first critical objective in a military invasion–the spot where a force lands on enemy territory and secures a position for greater advancement. It’s the place of breakthrough. And it’s also the place of fiercest resistance.
David wrote Psalm 3 while running for his life — betrayed, heartbroken, and hunted by his own son, Absalom. The weight of rebellion wasn’t just political; it was personal. His household had turned against him. Friends became foes. Loyal hearts grew cold. The throne he once held was now surrounded by enemies, and the whispers grew louder: “There is no salvation for him in God.”
Psalm 2 is a divine announcement — a heavenly decree that demands the world’s attention. It begins with a question: “Why do the nations rage, and the peoples plot in vain?” (Ps. 2:1). The nations rise up, not against injustice or tyranny, but against the rule of God’s Meshiach (Messiah). That Anointed is Yeshua — the Son whom the Father has set on His holy hill in Zion (Ps. 2:6). The psalm strips away all pretense and exposes the heart of human rebellion: it is a refusal to be ruled by His Messiah.
Psalm 1 opens with a sobering warning about the quiet, deadly slide into sin. The man without God doesn’t become a scorner overnight — he drifts there gradually. First, he walks in ungodly counsel, entertaining worldly thoughts. Then, he stands in the path of sinners, embracing their way of life. Finally, he sits in the seat of the scornful, hardened in heart and mocking what is sacred. This progression — from a man without God to scorner — reveals how small compromises grow into full rebellion, dulling the conscience and deadening the soul.