Psalms 98:1-4 Oh, sing to the LORD a new song! For He has done marvelous things; His right hand and His holy arm have gained Him the victory. 2 The LORD has made known His salvation; His righteousness He has revealed in the sight of the nations. 3 He has remembered His mercy and His faithfulness to the house of Israel; All the ends of the earth have seen the salvation of our God. 4 Shout joyfully to the LORD, all the earth; Break forth in song, rejoice, and sing praises.
Psalm 98 is a victory psalm — a call to lift up a “new song” because the Z’roah, the holy arm of the LORD, has brought decisive triumph. In Hebrew thought, the arm is the active extension of the will, the power that brings intention into reality. To call it “holy” is to declare that it is set apart, dedicated fully to God’s purpose, incapable of corruption. The psalmist celebrates that salvation is not a hidden act, but an open demonstration — God’s righteousness revealed before the eyes of the nations.
The Z’roah here is not simply about a moment in history; it is the ongoing, covenant-keeping power of God. The psalm ties His victory directly to His mercy and faithfulness toward Israel — reminding us that every act of deliverance is anchored in His unchanging promises. His arm moves in perfect alignment with His covenant love, ensuring that His people’s salvation is never an afterthought but the goal of His mission.
The imagery points forward to the Messiah, the Arm of the LORD revealed in human form. Yeshua’s (Jesus’) death and resurrection were the ultimate “marvelous things” — the victory that disarmed the powers of darkness and opened salvation to every nation. The psalm’s vision of “all the ends of the earth” seeing God’s salvation finds its fulfillment in the global proclamation of the gospel and will reach its climax when He returns to reign openly.
This psalm also shows us that God’s victories demand a response. We are not called to observe quietly but to join the chorus — to “shout joyfully,” “rejoice,” and “sing praises.” The Z’roah has acted, the victory is won, and the whole earth is summoned to celebrate. Worship becomes the public testimony of the redeemed, declaring to the world what God has done.
For us today, Psalm 98 is both a celebration and a prophecy. We sing because the Z’roah has already secured our salvation, and we sing because we know the day is coming when every voice will join the song. This is not just Israel’s story; it is the world’s invitation.
The holy Arm has accomplished what no power on earth or in hell could ever do. His salvation is not hidden in shadows but blazes in the light for all to see. Lift your voice now in praise, for the Arm that won the victory is the Arm that upholds you still. And just as He rested when His work was finished, so you are invited into His Shabbat — the rest secured by His triumph. This rest will be your song now, and His victory will be the anthem of eternity.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]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.
A beachhead is the first critical objective in a military invasion–the spot where a force lands on enemy territory and secures a position for greater advancement. It’s the place of breakthrough. And it’s also the place of fiercest resistance.
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.