Genesis 22:7-13 And Isaac spoke to Abraham his father, and said, My father: and he said, Here am I, my son. Then he said, Behold the fire and the wood: but where is the lamb for a burnt offering? And Abraham said, My son, God will provide Himself a lamb for a burnt offering: so they went both of them together. And they came to the place which God had told him of; and Abraham built an altar there, and placed the wood in order, and he bound Isaac his son, and laid him on the altar upon the wood. And Abraham stretched out his hand, and took the knife to slay his son. And the angel of the LORD called unto him out of heaven, and said, Abraham, Abraham: and he said, Here am I. And He said, Lay not thine hand upon the lad, neither do thou any thing unto him: for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from Me. Then Abraham lifted up his eyes, and looked, and there behind him was a ram caught in a thicket by its horns. So Abraham went and took the ram, and offered it up for a burnt offering instead of his son.
One of the major themes of Yom Teruah (Feast of Trumpets) is called Akedat Yitzchak, which means the Binding of Isaac. According to Jewish tradition, God told Abraham that the ram’s horn – otherwise known as a shofar – should be blown on Feast of Trumpets to remind people of the sacrifice that God provided Himself when Abraham was about to offer Isaac on Mount Moriah. It’s abundantly clear that this event in the life of Abraham and Isaac foreshadowed God the Father’s offering of His Son, providing Yeshua (Jesus) as a sacrifice for all men.
As we now are in the midst of the “Days of Awe” – traditionally, a time of repentance between Yom Teruah and Yom Kippur – let us take the time to examine ourselves, turning from sin again, toward our loving Creator, as we celebrate the fact that our names are written in the Lamb’s book of life. Through His perfect sacrifice, the Lamb of God, Yeshua, God’s forgiveness is eternal and His love, everlasting.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]In Israel, cell phones are all the rage. You wouldn’t believe it but parents even buy cell phones for their kids and send them to school with them in their schoolbags. I’m talking about six and seven-year-old kids! While it is true that part of the reason for this cell phone craze stems from the fact that violence goes on here daily and people want to be able to contact one another in the event of an emergency, I would still say that it’s somewhat excessive.
Charles William Eliot, former president of Harvard University, had a birthmark on his face that bothered him greatly. As a young man, he was told that surgeons could do nothing to remove it. Someone described that moment as “the dark hour of his soul.” Eliot’s mother gave him this helpful advice: “My son, it is not possible for you to get rid of that hardship…But it is possible for you, with God’s help, to grow a mind and soul so big that people will forget to look at your face.”
Rockets are flying through the skies of Israel and many are landing on the ground. Emails are also flying through cyberspace as people all over the world express support through prayer for us and our nation. Words cannot express our gratitude for your care and concern. In times like these the best and the worst are brought out in people: either the peace, confidence, and strength which come from faith, or the fear and panic which overwhelms the souls of worldly men.
Since moving to Israel we’ve been thrust into a Middle Eastern culture of “extreme hospitality”. The above parable from Luke takes place in a similar cultural context, and it powerfully illustrates how God wants us to approach Him.
Unless you’re up on your biology, you’re probably wondering, “What in the world is a coney?” I certainly was. After doing a little research, I discovered that a coney is a rock badger.
I ran across a profound story that shows what happens when the family structure breaks down — but this didn’t have to do with people — it had to do with elephants.
As some of you may know, a bomb exploded in a bus within blocks of our Jerusalem apartment when we first moved to Israel. That morning, my wife and I, along with our newborn baby, were heading to the city center to run a few errands when suddenly we heard the explosion. Within minutes, the sirens were screaming from every part of the city as officials quickly made their way to the scene. Later that month, the bus I was supposed to be on drove away as I watched it carry away the 50 or so people who would be critically injured and the 8 who would be dead seconds later, when that bus exploded before my very eyes. So, to put it mildly, we have seen firsthand how terrorism works and how it affects people.