Psalms 2:1-2,7-8,11-12 Why do the nations rage and the peoples plot in vain? 2 The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together, against the LORD and against his Anointed [Meshiach], saying, 7 I will tell of the decree: The LORD said to me, “You are my Son; today I have begotten you. 8 Ask of me, and I will make the nations your heritage, and the ends of the earth your possession. 11 Serve the LORD with fear, and rejoice with trembling. 12 Kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and you perish in the way, for his wrath is quickly kindled. Blessed are all who take refuge in him.
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.
In this psalm, the Father proclaims that Yeshua has been given the nations as His inheritance and the ends of the earth as His possession (Ps. 2:8). This is not poetic symbolism — it is a declaration of destiny. Yeshua is not merely Savior — He is King. He will not rule by diplomacy but with a rod of iron (Ps. 2:9). His authority is final, His dominion unstoppable. Though the kings of the earth conspire, their defiance is met with divine derision—God laughs from heaven (Ps. 2:4), because no scheme can overturn His decree. And when grace is ignored, wrath is awakened.
Yet even in the face of judgment, Psalm 2 is laced with mercy. The Father offers a clear warning: “Now therefore, O kings, be wise; be warned, O judges of the earth” (Ps. 2:10). This is not the cold judgment of a distant God — it is the loving rebuke of a holy God who desires repentance. The call is urgent: “Serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice with trembling” (Ps. 2:11). There is joy in submission, but only when it is coupled with reverence.
Then comes the command that pierces every heart: “Kiss the Son, lest He be angry, and you perish in the way” (Ps. 2:12). To kiss the Son is to surrender, to lay down arms, to recognize that Yeshua is Lord. The picture is one of homage and honor. This is not the kiss of affection but of allegiance. It is the line in the sand. We either bend the knee to Yeshua willingly, or we face His righteous anger.
This psalm reminds us that God’s love and wrath are not opposites — they are expressions of the same holy nature. He is patient, but He is not passive. He warns not because He enjoys judgment, but because He longs to show mercy. But mercy must be received. The alternative is to “perish in the way,” because the way of rebellion always leads to ruin.
Blessed are all who take refuge in Him (Ps. 2:12). That is the final word of Psalm 2, and it is the heartbeat of the gospel. Refuge is available — not in defiance, but in surrender. Yeshua is the Son whom the Father has exalted. He is the rightful King. The question is not whether He will reign — the question is will we bow, or be broken? Kiss the Son while there’s still time. Surrender in faith, and find life, joy, and mercy in Him — for the Kingdom of God is at hand.
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[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]In the stillness of a desert night, surrounded by cut offerings and the lingering scent of sacrifice, Abram beheld something utterly sacred — God Himself, in the form of a smoking oven and a burning torch, passing between the pieces of a covenant. It was not Abram who walked through the blood-soaked path. It was God alone. And that changes everything.
Tonight we’ll participate in the Independence Day celebration in Israel — and what a party! — shows, fireworks, music, dancing, everything under the sun!
Yesterday, Israel observed Yom HaShoah—Holocaust Remembrance Day—honoring the memory of the six million Jews who perished. Tragically, a recent poll reveals that nearly half of Israelis fear the possibility of another Holocaust. In light of this sobering reality, I want to share a powerful story of one remarkable woman who rescued 2,500 Jewish children from the ghettos during World War II.
One night a house caught fire and a young boy was forced to flee flames by jumping to the ground from the roof. His father stood on the ground below with outstretched arms, calling to his son, “Jump! I’ll catch you.” But the boy was afraid — he couldn’t see his father — all he could see was flame, smoke, and blackness. He was afraid. Still, his father kept yelling: “Jump son! I will catch you!” But the boy refused, crying, “Daddy, I can’t see you!” His father replied, “It’s ok son — I can see you — and that’s all that matters!”
After forty years of wandering in the wilderness, Israel finally crossed into the Promised Land—on the 10th day of Nissan, the very day they had been commanded to choose their Passover lamb [Exodus 12:3 , Joshua 4:19]. They couldn’t enter into their inheritance until a lamb was chosen—a powerful foreshadowing of the more excellent Lamb to come, in preparation for the Passover [Joshua 5:10], they were about to observe at Gilgal.
In the days of Yeshua (Jesus), the cross was an instrument of death, and crucifixion, a horrible method of torture. Over the next 200 years, in light of the Lord’s resurrection, the cross became identified with Christian faith and was transformed into a symbol of life and hope. Yeshua was able to turn it upside down, transforming an instrument of death into a symbol of life.
The New Testament records that when Yeshua (Jesus) died; there was a great earthquake and the veil of the Temple was torn in two. The size of this gigantic veil is not recorded in the NT…but we read from other sources that it was roughly 60 feet long and 30 feet wide with multiple woven layers the thickness of a man’s hand! It was hung on a crossbeam stone – a lintel – which was over 30 feet long and weighed more than 30 tons! It was not an easy cloth to tear…