Numbers 24:17 I shall see him, but not now: I shall behold him, but not nigh: there shall come a Star out of Jacob, and a Sceptre shall rise out of Israel, and shall smite the corners of Moab, and destroy all the children of Sheth.
Daniel 12:3 And they that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament; and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars for ever and ever.
This past Monday night, a celestial event visible to most of the world, the ‘Great Conjunction’ of Jupiter and Saturn, took place. Scientists say the convergence last took place in 1226. The conjunction of the two planets had the appearance of an exceptionally bright star, hence the nickname ‘Bethlehem Star.’
A few years ago, National Geographic published an article describing a real celestial event that took place at the time of Jesus’s birth. This reminded me of Risto Santala’s explanation in his book, “The Messiah in the New Testament in the Light of Rabbinical Writings.” He wrote about a conjunction of major planets that could have led the wise men from the east to Israel.
Santala reports that in 1603, Johannes Kepler observed a conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn in the constellation of Pisces; he observed a “new, particularly brilliant and strangely colored star between Jupiter and Saturn, which soon faded.” Kepler suggested that the Star of Bethlehem could have been such an event. Later, Alfred Edersheim wrote, “There can be no doubt that the most remarkable conjunction of planets — that of Jupiter and Saturn in the constellation of Pisces, which occurs only once in 800 years — did take place no less than three times in the year 747 A.U.C., or two years before the birth of Christ (in May, October, and December). This conjunction is admitted by all astronomers.”
Santala writes, “The constellations of the zodiac were generally identified with different nations, Pisces, for example, is considered the patron constellation of Syria and Palestine, and the revealer of the End Times. Saturn was associated with Palestine in Babylonian astrology, whereas Jupiter was the royal planet, foreshadowing a political Golden Age. Thus, when Jupiter conjoined with Saturn in Pisces, it was obvious that the Ruler of the End Times had been born in Palestine.”
Whether or not this was the “star” the wise men saw is debatable, but it strongly suggests that a real and significant celestial event did take place roughly at the time of the birth of Jesus. As millions around the world are celebrating His birth this week, we ought to remember that one purpose for which God created the stars was “for signs.” [Genesis 1:14]
But you also are a sign…a sign of His birth and His life. Whether you realize it or not, you are also a living, breathing announcement of Messiah and His light. And this holiday season, with the spiritual darkness so rapidly increasing, your calling and destiny is to SHINE!…to shine like the stars in a darkening world, exactly in the same way that His coming to Bethlehem was announced, “a star out of Jacob”…What a destiny! Let us pray that as the season closes and the new year turns, we, His people, will be filled with the oil of his Spirit which will fuel this shining…even right up till the moment He comes, blazing back into this world…Hallelujah!
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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.