Hebrews 13:1 Let brotherly love continue.
As we continue in our study of the parable of the Prodigal son, let's focus on the central figure in the story -- the father. The father is much like the helpless parent whose unending love is neither understood nor appreciated by either son. He allows his sons to make their own decisions, despite how bad those choices may be. No matter what terrible wrong they may commit, he loves them -- a perfect picture of the love of our Heavenly Father has for his children.
Notwithstanding the father's love, the younger son wants to see him dead, so he can receive his inheritance, while the elder son is self righteously preoccupied with the "good standing" he has "earned". Their father's unconditional love for them is completely beyond their comprehension.
The younger son begins to understand his father's love only after his rebellion bears its bitter fruit, he is desperate, helpless and humbled, and finally returns desiring just to be a servant -- yet upon his return he experiences the love of his father who prepares a kingly feast for him and restores him as a son.
What happens in the heart of the elder son is uncertain. He has been working in the field seeking to earn his father's love and acceptance. So he explodes with self-righteous anger when his father prepares a feast for his undeserving delinquent brother. Since his understanding of love is conditional, he can't believe that his father would reward his brother's behavior -- and he jealously wonders why his Dad has never lavished him this way. No hint of love or joy over his brother's repentance or his father's relief when he returns. Instead, he calls him the "son of his father" (Luke 15:20) and is filled with bitterness and accusation. Perhaps it amazed him to begin to realize that his father's love had all the time been unconditional and freely given without measure simply because they are his sons. We can only hope he finally softened under that realization.
God is not just a "loving" God -- the scripture says that "God IS love" [1 John 4:6]. When we fully realize that His love cannot be earned but is freely given, then we will serve our Father because of His love for us! With so much work to be done, let's be sure we're working in and out of love -- and not because we're trying to earn it!
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]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.
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.