Isaiah 52:10 The LORD has made bare His holy arm In the eyes of all the nations; And all the ends of the earth shall see The salvation (Yeshua) of our God.
John 12:37 -38 But although He had done so many signs before them, they did not believe in Him, 38 that the word of Isaiah the prophet might be fulfilled, which he spoke: “LORD, WHO HAS BELIEVED OUR REPORT? AND TO WHOM HAS THE ARM OF THE LORD BEEN REVEALED?”
To “bare” the arm means to roll up the sleeve and reveal the full readiness for action. In Isaiah’s prophecy, this is a global unveiling — no longer hidden, the Z’roah is on display for all nations to witness. This speaks directly of Yeshua’s (Jesus’) public ministry and, ultimately, His crucifixion.
In the Passover seder, the shank bone sits exposed on the plate — not hidden, not clothed — a visual reminder of God’s bare arm that brought deliverance. The imagery moves from private covenant to public testimony. In Yeshua’s death, the Arm of God was laid bare, revealing salvation to all who would see.
This revelation is not merely about what the Arm can accomplish — it is about who the Arm truly is. The nations are shown not only the works of God’s power but the very identity of the One through whom that power is revealed.
Isaiah 53, one of the clearest and most profound prophecies of the Messiah, opens with the piercing question: “To whom has the arm of the LORD been revealed?” The answer is deeply prophetic — it is unveiled to those whose eyes have been opened to see that Yeshua (Jesus) is the promised Messiah, the living embodiment of the Arm of the LORD.
In the Gospels, every healing, every word of authority, every act of compassion was the Arm being revealed. And at the cross, the fullness of that revelation came — strength manifested in weakness, victory in apparent defeat.
For us, the revelation of the Z’roah demands a response. To see the arm is to acknowledge the One who sent it. The nations are invited to not just witness but to believe and be saved.
The Arm of God has been uncovered before your eyes — not simply to display His power, but to reveal His heart. At the cross, love in its purest form was clothed in flesh, stretched wide to gather the nations, and draw you into His embrace. Do not stand afar as a distant onlooker — step into the reach of that Arm. The Arm laid bare to save will never let go of what it has claimed. You can rest fully and forever in His embrace.
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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.