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.
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]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.
Last night marked the beginning of Shavuot–a feast that many Christians recognize as Pentecost, the day the Holy Spirit was poured out in Acts 2. But the roots of Shavuot stretch back much further. Long before that upper room encounter–about 1,500 years earlier–Shavuot was the day God gave the law to Moses on Mount Sinai, writing His commandments on tablets of stone.
In a world trembling with uncertainty–political unrest, economic turmoil, natural disasters–God is speaking again. Not in whispers, but with the shaking that reorders lives, redefines kingdoms, and removes everything that cannot stand in the presence of His glory. He is preparing us for a kingdom that cannot be moved. But in the midst of the shaking, there is rest — a deep, unshakable rest reserved for the people of God. Not rest as the world gives — temporary relief or distraction — but the kind that anchors the soul in the storm, the kind that is rooted in Yeshua (Jesus), our rest.
Just as a bird needs both wings to fly, a victorious life requires both faith and obedience. In Joshua, God calls Joshua to lead Israel into the Promised Land, not just with bold confidence but with complete dependence on His Word. Faith believes what God says; obedience acts upon it. One without the other stalls the journey. This moment wasn’t just about crossing into the promise land — it was about stepping into covenant reality, where trust in God’s promise was matched by surrender to God’s command.
The Book of Joshua offers more than a military history; it reveals the spiritual dynamics behind every victory and defeat in the life of a believer.