Revelation 5:8-10 And when He had taken the book, the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders fell down before the Lamb, each one having harps and golden vials full of incense, which are the prayers of the saints. And they sang a new song, saying, You are worthy to take the book and to open its seals, for You were slain and have redeemed us to God by Your blood out of every kindred and tongue and people and nation. And You made us kings and priests to our God, and we will reign over the earth.
From the beginning of Genesis (Genesis 4:4) to the end of the Bible (Revelation 22:3), there is a common theme — the Lamb! In Revelation 6 we read about the Lamb who sits in the midst of the throne — worshiped by all of heaven because the Lamb was worthy to take the book and open the seals therein. The most harmless of creatures — the object of sacrifice, becomes the authority of heaven. Isn’t it interesting that the focal point of heaven is a Lamb?
The world seeks power, fame and glory… The world’s mentality is “survival of the fittest”… This is the way “nature works”. And yet, how would a lamb fare in this competitive environment? It appears to be the weakest of all the animals, and yet, is the symbol of power and authority in the Kingdom of God! An amazing paradox. Authority in the Kingdom of God is marked and even defined by gentleness and sacrifice, in total opposition to the world’s definition.
When Yeshua died as the lamb of God — He revealed the greatness of sacrifice. Likewise, Revelation 12:11 declares of the martyrs, “They conquered by the blood of the lamb and by the word of their testimony; for they loved not their lives even unto death.” Several of Yeshua’s paradoxical statements illustrate His Kingdom priorities. “He that loses His life for my sake — shall find it”. [Matthew 10:39]. “He that seeks to be greatest in the Kingdom shall become a servant to all”. [Matthew 23:11]. Victory through death? Gain through total loss? Great stature through abject servanthood? Such are the beautiful ways of our Lord.
Meditate on the Lamb, and you will discover the greatness in humility, the authority in harmlessness, the responsibility in servanthood, the victory in surrender, and the majesty in submission to the great God of creation. In His world, servants become kings; surrender becomes victory; death turns to resurrected life. Take hold of the paradox of the Lamb — take hold of the Kingdom of Heaven!
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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.