Revelation 3:14 And to the angel of the church of the Laodicea write: The Amen, the faithful and true Witness, the Head of the creation of God
For the past few days, we’ve been delving into the multiple meanings of “Amen”. While “Amen” is most commonly found at the end of prayers, the Lord Yeshua (Jesus) often used it at the beginning of a statement: “Truly, truly, I say unto you …” more accurately translated, “Amen, Amen, I say unto you…”
Risto Santala, in his book “The Messiah in the New Testament in the light of Rabbinical writings” shares this insight, “Critics have long considered the words of Jesus, “Truly, truly, I tell you”, to be rather strange. In the Greek original the Hebrew words amen, amen are used, in a way which is not found in either the Old Testament or the Rabbinic literature. ‘Amen’ there is found at the end of prayers and speeches, whereas Jesus used it to introduce what he had to say. In the early 1960’s a fragment from a deed of transaction was found in which a contemporary of Jesus solemnly states “Amen, amen, ani lô ashem”, ‘Truly, truly, I am innocent’. Jesus seems to have borrowed this grave formula of his from a juridical oath. In Hebrew the words for ‘faith’ and ‘amen’ are derivatives of the same root. The word ‘amen’ is indeed the only permissible affirmation: ‘You can believe this; it is true!’”
Santala understands by this historical usage that Yeshua (Jesus) used “amen” in a legally binding way to convey his authentic spiritual authority, the reliability of His revelation, and the deep spiritual truths He carried based on who He is. For example, in John 8:58, Yeshua said, “Truly, truly, I say to you, before Abraham was, I am”, binding himself by an oath to testify to His identity.
Writing to the Church of Laodicea [Revelation 3:14] the John the apostle, by the Holy Spirit identifies Yeshua as “The Amen, the faithful and true Witness, the Head of the creation of God…”. The use of “Amen” as a name for the Lord Yeshua further amplifies the profundity of this one expression.
“Amen” thus may be a word we have taken too lightly. Think about the fact that it is one of the many Names of God’s Son and a word with literally endless usages in scripture; then use it with joy, faith, and confidence!
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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.