Shine as a Star!

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!

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]

Over the past few years, some leaders who once inspired many have fallen into scandals that have brought harm and confusion to the body of Christ. In moments like these, it’s easy to feel disillusioned or lost, as if the work of God depends on human vessels who have failed us. But I’m reminded of how Elisha responded when Elijah was taken from him. His eyes were not on the departing servant but on the living God. “Where is the Lord God of Elijah?” he cried — not, “Where is Elijah?” That cry holds a lesson for us today: our hope and strength are not in human leaders, but in the God who works through them—and who remains faithful even when men falter.

The day before Israel launched Operation Rising Lion, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu stood before the ancient stones of the Western Wall and placed a prayer in its crevices. He chose Numbers 23:24—a verse that declares a timeless truth: God calls Israel and His people everywhere to rise with strength, purpose, and courage, no matter what challenges they face.

When we read the Beatitudes, we catch a glimpse of Yeshua’s heart and the values that define His Kingdom. His words unveil the kind of life that God calls blessed—marked by humility, mercy, purity of heart, a hunger for righteousness, peacemaking, and faithful endurance in the face of suffering.

We often celebrate beginnings—new chapters, breakthroughs, divine appointments. But in God’s economy, every true beginning requires a holy crossing. Before the Hebrews could enter the Promised Land, they had to leave Egypt. Before they entered the Promised Land, they had to cross over the Red Sea. And before Abraham could receive God’s promises, he had to obey a single command: “Leave.”

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.