Meadowbrooke Church

Come Thou Long Expected Jesus

Once, there was an empire, though it started off as insignificant. It was geographically tiny, in this case, an island. Like so many others, they had been occupied and oppressed in the past. In their case, they had been ruled over by the Roman Empire. But, as with all empires, Rome weakened and ultimately fell. Time weathers even the largest of mountains. This other nation, the out-of-the-way island, saw constant infighting and power struggles. Indeed, it took almost 500 years after the fall of the Roman Empire for anything resembling a country to establish itself. It took hundreds more years to unify the entire island. Now, this would seem an improbable candidate for a globe-spanning and world-dominating superpower, but that is exactly what happened.
As with the Romans and all other empires, some of the leaders of this nation were noble and upright. Some were educated, wise, and morally sound. However, there were those who were not. Often, the worst tendencies of these rulers were felt by those at the far reaches of the empire. It is, after all, easier to make the burdens heavy for those who look and sound least like you, are far removed from the royal court, or have no political power of their own. So, taxes were levied on outlying colonies. Political representation was denied. The oppressed had become the oppressor.
            Disagreements turned into skirmishes. Tea was dumped into a bay. Ultimatums were given. Hostility rose. Independence was declared. War broke out. Eventually, from this war, a new nation was born. In a twist of irony, this nation would one day occupy the superpower position that the empire it had broken away from used to hold.
            Now, of course, this is the story of Great Britain and our own nation. And I tell you this story to make a point. Nations rise, and empires are born. Superpowers dominate world politics but then diminish or disappear altogether. When empires exist, it can seem like they are permanent, but they are not.
Furthermore, each of these nations, including our own and every other ever to exist, has stories to tell, stories of our beginnings, of our successes, of our own goodness. Notice, our stories tend to be positive about ourselves. We exaggerate the good and ignore the bad. Sometimes these stories are told through events. For example, military parades are as old as history. The Roman emperors did it to show their power and greatness. Counties do it today as well. What is the point of power if you can’t show it off after all?
            Now, you may all be asking yourselves what in the world I’m on about. Aren’t we supposed to be talking about Isaiah? And I promise I’m getting there. The truth is that Isaiah, especially the first 39 chapters, is largely about a choice. This choice is simple. Will God’s people choose to place their trust in God or in the perceived might and power of the nations?
This is a choice that has been before us since humans have been around. We see it in the story of Babel.
4 Then they said, “Come, let us build ourselves a city and a tower with its top in the heavens, and let us make a name for ourselves, lest we be dispersed over the face of the whole earth.” 5 And the Lord came down to see the city and the tower, which the children of man had built. 6 And the Lord said, “Behold, they are one people, and they have all one language, and this is only the beginning of what they will do. And nothing that they propose to do will now be impossible for them. 7 Come, let us go down and there confuse their language, so that they may not understand one another's speech.” 8 So the Lord dispersed them from there over the face of all the earth, and they left off building the city. (Gen 11:4-8)
 So many people think this means that these people were trying to build a tower to reach heaven. This is not the case. The Hebrew word for sky is the same as it is for heaven (שׁמים). Notice the reasons they give here for building the tower. They wanted to make a name for themselves and not be dispersed over the face of the earth. They wanted to congregate together, make themselves great, and bask in their awesomeness. Throughout the Bible, we hear about the spirit of Babylon. It is this type of thinking: self-centered, self-focused, and power hungry.
Now, this sounds stupid until we think about how similar this is to how people are today. Do you notice how people are obsessed with creating large buildings for their countries, companies, or even themselves, even plastering their name all over it? When you read the Bible, remember this one key thing. People are the same today as they were thousands of years ago. Ego drove the creation of the Tower of Babel every bit as much as the Pyramids at Giza in ancient Egypt or the Burj Khalifa today.
But seriously… what does this have to do with Isaiah? We’re approaching Christmas, and the passage we’re reading today says “unto us a son is given.” Can’t we just talk about the nativity and then go about our business already?! But my whole point here is this is exactly what Isaiah is trying to snap us out of. He didn’t want the Israelites of his time or us to shrug our shoulders and go about our normal lives. His goal was to lift the eyes of God’s people up from the world and to trust in Him rather than temporary world powers, as powerful as they may be.
The message of this passage centers on some very simple facts. But they are very easy for us to forget. Here is the framework that Isaiah has set up for us.
Sin brings darkness into the world.
Dwelling in darkness means no hope.
God is bringing a great light into the world.
Darkness flees in the presence of this light.
So, let’s dive in. Isaiah was writing at a very particular time, to a very particular people, in a very particular situation. We cannot properly understand Isaiah if we don’t understand this. This prophet was writing to a nation divided. And the nation was divided because of incredible sin that was committed.
We are currently in a series that takes us from the Tree of Life found in the beginning chapters of Genesis all the way through to the Tree of Life in the last chapter of Revelation. Everything in between is the journey of salvation. This story takes us from humanity’s fall to our restoration with God, which is made possible through the Messiah, Jesus. This passage is located in a particularly dark and tragic period in Israel’s history. And we need to understand more about this history in order to properly understand our passage today. Remember, this prophecy was written to a people, at a specific time, in a distinct place.
God had promised His people, when He delivered them from the land of Egypt, that He would take them into the Land of Promise. And He did that. A king, Pharaoh, had elevated himself and was seen as a god in his country. The real God parted the sea. The fake god perished in it. However, this promise was not an unconditional one. God used the nation of Israel to judge the people who were living in the land at the time, the Canaanites. They were judged because of what they did and what they continued to do.
We read in Leviticus the following:
24 “Do not make yourselves unclean by any of these things, for by all these the nations I am driving out before you have become unclean, 25 and the land became unclean, so that I punished its iniquity, and the land vomited out its inhabitants. 26 But you shall keep my statutes and my rules and do none of these abominations, either the native or the stranger who sojourns among you 27 (for the people of the land, who were before you, did all of these abominations, so that the land became unclean), 28 lest the land vomit you out when you make it unclean, as it vomited out the nation that was before you. (Leviticus 18:24-28)
Notice here that the nations that God drove out of the Land of Promise were driven out because of the things that they had done. The picture that Scripture draws here is one of intense sin that makes even the land itself completely unclean, and so the people are thrown out of it. Now, notice what God says next. He tells the Israelites that this is exactly what will happen to them if they act in the same way. God will not give them a pass. What were some of these sins? If we look earlier in this chapter, the Canaanites were continually practicing sexual sin, in many cases likely as part of the worship of their gods. However, they were also practicing child sacrifice, again, in worship of their gods.
If we are good students of our Bibles, we will know that the Israelites did not heed this warning. Instead, they traveled down this same road. Part of the problem was that they started to tell themselves stories about how special they were. They were, after all, God’s people. They had the Law. They were the children of Abraham. There were so many reasons that their country was better than every other country. Such is the story that all countries tell themselves.
God, however, is not impressed by our perceptions of our own greatness. Look at what John the Baptist had to say about the Pharisees and Sadducees. Now, keep in mind when I read this that these people knew Scripture better than probably any of us do. The Pharisees especially were zealous in their scripture memory and religious conduct. They should have known that God didn’t have to choose them. John says the following.
 9 And do not presume to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father,’ for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children for Abraham. 10 Even now the axe is laid to the root of the trees. Every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. (Matt 3:9-10)
God even tells the nation of Israel this before they enter the Promised Land.
6 “For you are a people holy to the Lord your God. The Lord your God has chosen you to be a people for his treasured possession, out of all the peoples who are on the face of the earth. 7 It was not because you were more in number than any other people that the Lord set his love on you and chose you, for you were the fewest of all peoples, 8 but it is because the Lord loves you and is keeping the oath that he swore to your fathers, that the Lord has brought you out with a mighty hand and redeemed you from the house of slavery, from the hand of Pharaoh king of Egypt. (Deuteronomy 7: 6-8).
It did not matter how big or how small Israel was. That did not matter to God. In fact, we are told throughout Scripture that God chooses the weak and the helpless to complete His works. This completely upends our notion of how the world works. We are used to the strong, the rich, the mighty, acting as the agents of change.
The story of Israel, unfortunately, is not a story of faith and trust in God. Instead, they turned from their Deliverer as regularly and severely as people today do. In the Book of Judges, we see the nation turn completely away from their God, who had rescued them from Egypt and brought them into the land that He had promised to Abraham. Instead of trusting in Him and following His Law, each person did what was right in their own eyes. There was a downward spiral of moral compromise, worship of other gods, and increasing amounts of sin.
Occasionally, a judge would rise up to deliver God’s people, but it was never enough. The people always returned to their ways. The Bible shows us that we are not able to overcome our own fallenness. We need a better judge than Samson or Gideon could ever be. If we pay attention to what Scripture is saying, we can hear the plea of the faithful. Come thou long expected Jesus.
Israel then demanded a king, just like all of the other nations around them had. However, not even David, remembered as the greatest of these kings, was able to stand up to sin and temptation. He forcefully took another man’s wife and then intentionally had him killed. Solomon, his son, fell even further. You see, God had warned the people of Israel not to marry with the people around them because they would be drawn into the same religious practices, and accompanying sin, that had gotten the Canaanites into so much trouble. However, Solomon didn’t just marry one foreign princess who turned his heart from God. He had 700 wives and 300 concubines. He didn’t just make a mistake. He repeated the same mistake 999 times. For being the wisest man to live, Solomon could be a real moron.
David chose to take what he desired and then kill a man to cover up his sin. Solomon, rather than leading a life devoted to God and living humbly, chose to live for himself. These two men show us that we need a better king than we could ever hope for in any human ruler. Just as we do, the people of Israel needed the true and perfect King.
Come thou long expected Jesus. Come thou promised Rod of Jesse.
But the problems did not stop there. After Solomon died, the people of Israel called out to his son, Rehoboam, to lighten their workload. You see, Solomon had been building lavish structures because that’s what powerful nations do. The people called out for rest, and he refused. Just as the story I told at the beginning of this sermon, the one about our nation, people called out, and their king ignored them. Following the same course of action as Pharaoh did in Exodus, Rehoboam told the people he would make them work even harder.
This caused the nation to split into two. Judah, the Southern Kingdom, was ruled by Rehoboam. And the Northern Kingdom, known as Israel, was ruled by Jeroboam. And this is extremely important for the passage we are discussing today. Our passage today opened with the following verse.
But there will be no gloom for her who was in anguish. In the former time he brought into contempt the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, but in the latter time he has made glorious the way of the sea, the land beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the nations. (Isaiah 9:1)
But what does this mean? What are Zebulun and Naphtali? Well, if we go back to Genesis, we learn that these are two of the sons of Jacob, or Israel. When the people of Israel were brought into the land after God delivered them from Egypt, they were given areas based on tribes. The land that the Tribes of Zebulun and Naphtali were given was located in the northern part of the country. But why was there gloom in this part of the land? Why were these tribes held in contempt?
When the nation of Israel split after Solomon died, the king of the Northern Kingdom, also known as Israel from this part of the story onward, had a problem. He was ruling in the north but the Temple, where people were supposed to worship God, was in the south. Now, how are you supposed to make sure that your people remain loyal to you and ensure that you retain power if they are constantly going into a different country, one you just broke away from?
Well, Jeroboam, the king, came up with a brilliant idea. He would just build other places of worship and make new gods for Israel. Never mind that the same idea backfired when the Israelites built a golden calf to worship in the desert. But that is what he did. As Mark Twain once said, “History doesn’t repeat itself, but it often rhymes.”
But you’ll never guess what. Against all odds, the Northern Kingdom got its act together. They saw the errors of their ways and turned back to God. They stopped worshiping false gods and led pure lives. That’s how the story goes, right?
Of course it isn’t. The same thing that happened in the Book of Judges happened. The downward spiral of sin and darkness occurred yet again. You see, every one of the kings in the Northern Kingdom was said to have done evil in the sight of God. Not a single one of them was good. Occasionally, in the Southern Kingdom, one was called good, such as Hezekiah and Josiah. Not a single one in the Northern Kingdom, however.
And just like God promised way back in Leviticus, the people of Israel were going to be judged, just as the Canaanites had been. God’s own people walked down the same exact path as the Canaanites. And if you think that I’m being hyperbolic, check out these verses.
17 And they burned their sons and their daughters as offerings and used divination and omens and sold themselves to do evil in the sight of the Lord, provoking him to anger. (2 Kings 17:17)
35 They built the high places of Baal in the Valley of the Son of Hinnom, to offer up their sons and daughters to Molech, though I did not command them, nor did it enter into my mind, that they should do this abomination, to cause Judah to sin. (Jeremiah 32:35)
The people whom God had rescued out of Egypt, the people of Abraham, through whom all the nations were to receive salvation, had fallen to almost unimaginable depravity. The consequences for Israel would be the same as for the Canaanites. No nation is above God’s judgment.
18 Therefore the Lord was very angry with Israel and removed them out of his sight. None was left but the tribe of Judah only. 19 Judah also did not keep the commandments of the Lord their God, but walked in the customs that Israel had introduced. 20 And the Lord rejected all the descendants of Israel and afflicted them and gave them into the hand of plunderers, until he had cast them out of his sight. (2 Kings 17:18-20)
And this is the situation we find the Northern Kingdom in within today's passage. The Assyrian army is coming and will conquer the nation that was supposed to follow God faithfully. The Bible often uses darkness as not just a symbol of suffering, but also as a metaphor for the absence of His presence. Before God said, “Let there be light,” there was darkness. Now, a different kind of darkness has taken root in the land.
The Prophets had warned Israel, but they did not listen. They were told to turn to God and flee from their sin. Instead, they turned to other world powers, such as Syria, to save them. Instead of running to God, they ran to political allies. It would not be enough.
The Northern Kingdom would fall to Assyria. Later, Assyria would fall to Babylon, and then so would the Southern Kingdom. Sin led to unimaginable darkness. Can you imagine the fear of knowing your country was to be invaded and there was nothing that could be done in the face of the enemy?
Come thou long expected Jesus, born to set thy people free. From our fears and sins release us. Let us find our rest in thee.
Assyria rose and fell. Babylon came to power and was then conquered by the Persians. Then there was Greece, followed by Rome. Empires were created and then were destroyed. Kings made themselves great, only to have their works destroyed and left to the ashes of time. Yet the promise of God remained. Come thou long expected Jesus.
Though the world had become so dark, God was bringing something new.
But there will be no gloom for her who was in anguish. In the former time he brought into contempt the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, but in the latter time he has made glorious the way of the sea, the land beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the nations. (Isaiah 9:1)
The ministry of Jesus, the Galilean, is introduced in the Gospel of Matthew, quoting this very verse. The former time is no more. Something glorious is happening in the land of Naphtali and Zebulun.
2 The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shone. (Isaiah 9:2)
The people of Israel had turned from God, and darkness reigned. Sin was judged, and Israel was conquered. Nations rose, and empires fell. Darkness was the one constant. Later, in Isaiah, the prophet writes:
2 For behold, darkness shall cover the earth, and thick darkness the peoples; but the Lord will arise upon you, and his glory will be seen upon you. 3 And nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your rising. (Isaiah 60: 2-3)
Come thou long expected Jesus, day-spring from on high appear.
You see, the power of God has this incredible ability to transform. From darkness, He brings light. From a nation destroyed, He makes something new. Mighty empires imagine themselves great because of their power, but God instead uses the least to make fools of the powerful. The cross used to be a symbol of death and suffering. Today, it is a universal sign of forgiveness and life. Through death, God brought forth eternal life.
Instead of gloom, there is the promise of joy.
3 You have multiplied the nation; you have increased its joy; they rejoice before you as with joy at the harvest, as they are glad when they divide the spoil. 4 For the yoke of his burden, and the staff for his shoulder, the rod of his oppressor, you have broken as on the day of Midian. (Isaiah 9:3-4)
The yoke was to be lifted from God’s people. The staff and the rod that beat them will be broken. However, this will happen not through military and political might, but by something else. A different kind of kingdom is coming into the world. A new type of ruler was stepping onto the scene. We get hints of it in the very next verse.
5 For every boot of the tramping warrior in battle tumult and every garment rolled in blood will be burned as fuel for the fire. (Isaiah 9:5)
The boots of the warriors and their garments, which have been soaked in blood, will no longer be worn but instead burned. There is a war to be fought, but it will not be with sword and shield. You see, there is a war being waged in these verses, but not the type of war we are used to. This is the same cosmic war that has existed since the Fall. It is the same war that Scripture describes. It is the war we are all a part of, even if we don’t know it.
12 For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. 13 Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm. (Ephesians 6:12-13)
Most people who met Jesus missed who He was because they were expecting a messiah that would look like the kings of the nations. They expected somebody to come and overthrow their oppressors. They expected a Ceasar who would conquer their oppressors. Brothers and sisters, we need to be cautious of the same thing. We are lured by the thought of defeating our perceived enemies. We are enticed by our country or our political party prevailing valiantly. But I offer this challenge. Look out into the world with honesty. When people seek power, are they doing it because they are selflessly seeking the good of others or are they seeking after the lust of their own hearts? How much do they profit from the decisions they make? Do we judge those on our own side, whatever that is, the same as we do those that we don’t agree with?
Put maybe another way, do we happen to talk more about respecting those in authority when they happen to be the ones we voted for? Do we overlook the personal sins and moral failings of one person because, “we should be focused on the policies,” yet loudly point out the same sins for someone that we disagree with? Or, better yet, do we talk about how some in power profit from their position, but are not completely honest about our taxes? What if the waiter accidentally leaves the appetizer off your bill? How do you act in your own household? Are you a suffering servant like Jesus, giving selflessly? Or are you a tyrant like Rehoboam, seeing others as a means to your own gratification, comfort, and power?
I digress.
God could have come in this way.  He certainly has a more rightful claim than all of these other kings or rulers. But is that the way He came? No. Instead of a mighty ruler conquering with a massive army, we are given a child.
6 For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. (Isaiah 9:6)
This is the Messiah that we worship. This is the King that we remember coming into the world every Christmas. He is Immanuel, God with us. He is the King of endless glory but was born and placed in a manger. Instead of making others serve Him, He served them. And this God who transforms the darkest night into brightest day showed us how live. Jesus said the first will be last and the last will be first. But, unlike the hypocrites he denounced, he didn’t just talk the talk. He walked the walk. And that walk led him to the cross. The Son of Man came to serve rather than be served. Rather than a tyrant, the true King came as a child. Rather than ruling with an iron fist, the government was upon His shoulder as He carried His cross to be offered up as a sacrifice for all. Light of the world by darkness slain, as the song goes.
Come thou long expected Jesus, born a child and yet a King. Come to earth to taste our sadness, He whose glories knew no end!
Brothers and sisters, don’t miss these titles! Yes, Jesus was born amongst livestock. But He is the Wonderful Counselor whose words bring life. Lifetimes are not enough to plumb the depths of the wisdom that Jesus spoke. Yes, Jesus was a mere carpenter and did not live in a royal court. But He is our Mighty God. Through Him everything was created. Through Him we live and move and have our being. Yes, Jesus was hung on a cross with criminals and then buried in a tomb. But He is the Everlasting Father. Jesus said, “I and the Father am one. If you have seen me, you have seen the Father.” We cannot miss this. Jesus did not just talk and teach about God. He was and is and evermore will be God. He was Immanuel, God with us.
Jesus did not come as other rulers, laying waste and bringing death. Instead, Jesus is the Prince of Peace. The war on death was waged and won. On the cross, Jesus said a word. Tetelestai. It means “it is finished.” There is no more for heaven now to give. Oh, death, where is your sting? Where, oh, grave is your victory?
Just because Jesus didn’t come as every other king did does not mean that He is not a King or that He does not have a government. Look at this.
7 Of the increase of his government and of peace there will be no end, on the throne of David and over his kingdom, to establish it and to uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time forth and forevermore. The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this. (Isaiah 9:7)
When Jesus, the Son, had completed the work that the Father sent Him to do, the Spirit of God, the third person of the Trinity, was poured out and now resides in all believers. No ruler can stop this, no matter how hard they try. No nation can stand against it, no matter how much violence they commit against believers. God has been working and is working still. His kingdom is one of peace. That is why earlier in the Book of Isaiah, we read:
2 It shall come to pass in the latter days    that the mountain of the house of the Lordshall be established as the highest of the mountains,    and shall be lifted up above the hills;and all the nations shall flow to it,3     and many peoples shall come, and say:“Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord,    to the house of the God of Jacob,that he may teach us his ways    and that we may walk in his paths.”For out of Zion shall go forth the law,[a]    and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.4 He shall judge between the nations,    and shall decide disputes for many peoples;and they shall beat their swords into plowshares,    and their spears into pruning hooks;nation shall not lift up sword against nation,    neither shall they learn war anymore.5 O house of Jacob,    come, let us walk    in the light of the Lord.(Isaiah 2:2-5)
This government is not just for the nation of the ancient people of Israel. Jesus has accomplished the promise made to Abraham. Through him, all the nations of the world would be blessed. It was not man that brought this about, but the zeal of the Lord of hosts. Nations and empires rise and fall. But the Kingdom of God will reign forever. It will never fade, it will never diminish, it will never disappear.
This is the Jesus that we will be remembering and the King we will be worshiping on Christmas.
Like all the saints who have gone before us, our mission, our calling, is to follow Him. My hope, my prayer, my earnest plea is that we will be a people ever more conformed to the image of this Jesus. He told us that one does not light a lamp and then put it under a basket but rather lets it shine forth.
As believers, we have the Spirit of God living within us. The Bible says that this same God is the God of unapproachable light. He is so pure and holy that His goodness outshines the sun.
As we approach Christmas as a church family, let this be our focus. We follow a risen Savior whose government will be one of absolute righteousness and justice. The same Spirit that raised Jesus from the grave lives in you. Do we act and live like citizens of that kingdom?
If this sounds attractive to you and you haven’t accepted Jesus as your Lord and Savior, today could be your day. Of the increase of His government and of peace, there will be no end. Jesus once said that He stands at the door and knocks. Will you ignore that knock or will you open the door? No day is better than today.
Brothers and sisters, as we gather with family and loved ones, remember that you may be the only one who will be willing to tell them about Jesus. We should be talking more about Jesus’ government than any other. This is potentially a good measuring stick for us. Do we talk about our own kingdoms more than the Kingdom of God? Do we talk more about what we have accomplished in school or work or elsewhere than what Jesus has accomplished on our behalf? Do we talk about our own politics more than our true and righteous King? Who do you spend more time thinking and reading about, the petty rulers of our day and age or the eternal Creator of the universe? Who do you spend more time listening to, talking heads on the TV or radio filling our ears with messages of fear, or the God of creation who fills us with the spirit of power and love?
Remember that Jesus is not just the King who was born, but also the Savior who died for you. As God transformed darkness into light, death into life, and the cross into a symbol of love and eternal hope, let Him continually transform your life. Let Him be the object of your attention and affection.
And may our song ever be - Come thou long expected Jesus, born to reign in us forever. Now thy gracious kingdom bring. By thine own eternal spirit, rule in all our hearts alone. By thine all sufficient merit, raise us to thy glorious throne.

Born in Bethlehem

The Gospel is simple: “That if you confess with your mouth Jesus as Lord and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead you will be saved.” Romans 10:9
 
But God is extremely intelligent, and His message sometimes comes across as rather complicated.  You will probably think that about this message.  Just keep in mind the big picture: The Messiah is coming into the world, and everything, including the Mosiac Law and all the religious traditions, must yield to the new order.
 
Micah 5:1-4 “Now muster yourselves in troops, daughter of troops: they have laid siege against us; with a rod they will strike the judge of Israel on the cheek.  But as for you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, too little to be among the clans of Judah, from you One will come forth for Me to be ruler in Israel.  His times of coming forth are from long ago, from the days of eternity. Therefore, He will give them up until the time when she who is in labor has given birth.  Then the remainder of His kinsmen will return to the sons of Israel.  And He will arise and shepherd His flock in the strength of the LORD, in the majesty of the name of the LORD His God.  And they will remain, because at that time He will be great to the ends of the earth.”
 
And we see the fulfillment of this prophecy in Luke Chapter 2:
 
Luke 2:8-11 “In the same region there were some shepherds staying out in the fields and keeping watch over their flock at night.  And an angel of the Lord suddenly stood near them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them; and they were terribly frightened.  And so the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people; for today in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.”
 
The city of David.  Sometimes we think of Jerusalem as the city of David, but David was not from Jerusalem.  He conquered Jerusalem and drove out the Jebusites in 2 Samuel 5:6-8.  If you recall from a previous sermon, that’s where David developed the loathing for the blind and lame that figures so prominently in the meeting with Mephibosheth. 
 
The original city of David is Bethlehem (house of bread).  As we saw recently, in Keith’s sermon on Ruth, that story of how Boaz and Ruth unite is set in Bethlehem, and at the end of that book, we see the lineage traced down to David.  Further evidence of David’s ties to Bethlehem occurs in I Samuel 20:27-29, where Jonathan tests his father Saul to see what his true intentions toward David are by stating that David was not present because he had to go to Bethlehem for a family gathering. 
 
To fulfill Scripture, God influences Caesar Augustus to issue a decree for a world-wide census, and all people must return to their birthplace.  Joseph was betrothed to Mary at the time, and she was pregnant with the Messiah.  Since he was from Bethlehem, he had to return there from Nazareth in Galilee.  When Joseph and Mary arrive in Bethlehem, Mary’s time to deliver her baby arrives, and Jesus is born in Bethlehem, just as prophesied in Micah. 
 
Micah gives us an intriguing detail about this ruler from Bethlehem.  His times of coming are from long ago, from the days of eternity. Now, how can a person who comes from Bethlehem come from eternity?  Well, the answer is that the person must be eternal, and that has to be God. So, we have an eternal ruler of Israel who will be born in Bethlehem.
 
This prophecy about the Messiah was well known in Jesus’ day.  In Matthew 2:1-6, we see the chief priests and scribes correctly identify the location of the birth of the King of the Jews as Bethlehem, and they quote our passage from Micah 5.  
 
The first reference to a ruler from Judah (Bethlehem is in the province of Judah) is in Genesis 49:10 “The scepter will not depart from Judah, nor the ruler’s staff from between his feet, until Shiloh comes.”
 
Another similar prophecy occurs in Numbers 24:17, spoken by Balaam:
“I see him, but not now; I look at him, but not near; a star shall appear from Jacob, a scepter shall rise from Israel, and shall smash the forehead of Moab, and overcome all the sons of Sheth.”
 
This prophecy does not mention Judah specifically, but mentions a scepter which will arise from Jacob, and of course Judah is one of Jacob (Israel’s) sons. 
 
All the verses we have looked at so far have focused on political and governmental power.  But the Messiah is not just a King; He is also a Priest, but not a Levitical priest.
 
What if, as a God-fearing person under the Mosaic Law, you became hopelessly frustrated with your own sinfulness and inability to obey the Law.  Suppose you cried out to God for mercy because you knew that, according to the Mosaic Law, you stood condemned.  And suddenly, God opened your eyes to another way to approach Him:
 
Psalm 40:6-8 “You have not desired sacrifice and meal offering; You have opened my ears; You have not required burnt offering and sin offering.  Then I said, ‘Behold, I have come; it is written of me in the scroll of the book.  I delight to do Your will, my God; Your Law is within my heart.’”
 
According to Numbers 3:9, Levites were the only permissible priests:
 
“So you shall assign the Levites to Aaron and to his sons; they are exclusively assigned to him from the sons of Israel.  So you shall appoint Aaron and his sons that they may keep their priesthood, but the layman who comes near shall be put to death.”
 
But if you are no longer trying to approach God through the Law of Moses, you need another Priest outside the Levitical priesthood, because they only serve the Tabernacle. Fortunately, God provided us a Priest that fits our needs.  To see this, we must turn to the Psalms.
 
There are psalms known as “Messianic Psalms” which prophetically point to the ministry of the Messiah.  Some of them are Psalm 2, 8, 16, 22 and 110.  It is in Psalm 110 that we see the combined offices of King and Priest:
 
Psalm 110:1-4
“The LORD says to my Lord: ‘Sit at My right hand until I make Your enemies a footstool for Your feet.’ The LORD will stretch out Your strong scepter from Zion, saying, ‘Rule in the midst of Your enemies.’ Your people will volunteer freely on the day of Your power; in holy splendor, from the womb or the dawn, Your youth are to You as the dew.  The LORD has sworn and will not change His mind, ‘You are a priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek.’”
 
In this passage, we see the scepter of the ruler and the role of the priest, combined in this Person to whom the LORD (Yahweh) speaks, identified as Lord (Adonai).  This Lord (Adonai) is both Ruler and Priest, but not a Levitical priest.  Instead, He is identified as a priest “according to the order of Melchizedek.”
 
If you were a Jewish scribe, this passage should have troubled you.  How could the Ruler of Israel, the Messiah, be a priest if he came from Judah, rather than Levi?  Very mysterious.
 
Melchizedek is only mentioned one other place in the Old Testament.  He shows up in Genesis 14.  This is after Abram rescues his nephew Lot from Chedorlaomer king of Elam and three other kings with him.  Abram had also reclaimed other persons who were captured as well as many of their possessions.  He was indirectly helping the king of Sodom, since that is where Lot lived.  Abram meets up with the king of Sodom in the Valley of Shaveh.
 
In verses 18-20, we are told, “And Melchizedek the king of Salem brought out bread and wine; now he was a priest of God Most High.  And he blessed him and said, ‘Blessed be Abram of God Most High, possessor of heaven and earth; and blessed be God Most High, who has handed over your enemies to you.’ And he gave him a tenth of everything.”
 
Melchizedek is the king of Salem (peace), which most Jewish scholars interpret as the location of Jerusalem before Israel occupied Caanan.  So, Melchizedek is a king and priest in the location where Abraham will take Isaac to be sacrificed; where Jerusalem will be located; and where the Messiah will be crucified.  It is also in the land that will become Judah’s territory after Israel occupies Caanan.
 
Melchizedek is described as holding the offices of both king and priest. This is a very unusual combination, and typically was prohibited under Mosaic Law.  In fact, Saul was dethroned in part because he presumed to offer sacrifices in Samuel’s absence, illegally usurping the priestly role as the king of Israel. In Second Chronicles Chapter 26, King Uzziah becomes a leper after he usurps the priest’s role and burns incense in the temple. 
 
But the Messiah, according to Psalm 110, is a priest forever, according to the order of Melchizedek, and is also the ruler over Israel.  So, like Melchizedek, he is both a king and a priest. 
 
But, since the Messiah must come from Judah and be born in Bethlehem, he cannot be from the tribe of Levi, and his priesthood is therefore illegal under Mosaic Law.  But that’s not a problem for you because you have quit trying to obtain righteousness under the Mosaic Law.
 
In fact, let’s say you have become aware that you can achieve righteousness in God’s eyes by faith, just as Abraham did in Genesis 15:6:
 
Then he believed in the LORD, and He credited it to him as righteousness.”
 
The covenant of works has a priesthood, so maybe the covenant of faith also has a priesthood.  As a matter of fact, it does, and it has a priesthood superior to the Levitical priesthood, as described in Hebrews Chapter 7. 
 
In contrasting the Levitical priests with Jesus, Hebrews 7:23 says,
 
“The former priests, on the one hand, existed in greater numbers because they were prevented by death from continuing; Jesus, on the other hand, because He continues forever, holds His priesthood permanently.  Therefore, He is also able to save forever those who come to God through Him, since He always lives to make intercession for them.”
 
As noted in Hebrews 7:12, “When the priesthood is changed, of necessity there takes place a change of law also.”
 
When we quit trying to earn righteousness, we leave the law of works and turn to the law of grace.  In so doing, we turn from a religious system that uses frail human priests to a system that has a perfect eternal priest who is always interceding on our behalf. 
 
Now, some theologians believe that Melchizedek was a Christophany, an appearance of Christ in the Old Testament.  Here’s how the Hebrews writer describes Melchizedek in Hebrews 7:3
 
“Without father, without mother, without genealogy, having neither beginning of days nor end of life, but made like the Son of God, he remains a priest perpetually.”
 
If that description were literally true, then it would have to be referring to Jesus.  But the Hebrew writer is attributing the complete lack of genealogy about Melchizedek as suggestive of an eternal nature.  We don’t see any of the typical language used of Melchizedek that we see in other Christophanies.  For instance, no other Christophany identifies anyone by a proper name or being an office bearer in any earthly position.  Also, we see no command to, for example, remove Abram’s sandals because the ground is holy. 
 
But clearly, God intends us to note the complete lack of genealogy, especially in Psalm 110:4, as being instructive that the Messiah will have a priesthood that is eternal. 
 
So, when we think of “Born in Bethlehem,” we think of a precious infant, a manger, Joseph and Mary, and all the pageantry of Christmas.  But to receive a forever priest from the Tribe of Judah, we must leave behind our love affair with salvation by our own works and receive the righteousness that comes only through faith. 
 
Romans 3:19-26 explains the procedural change:
 
“Now we know that whatever the Law says, it speaks to those who are under the Law, so that every mouth may be closed and all the world may become accountable to God; because by the works of the Law none of mankind will be justified in His sight; for through the Law comes knowledge of sin.  BUT NOW apart from the Law the righteousness of God has been revealed, being witnessed by the Law and the Prophets, but it is the righteousness of God THROUGH FAITH in Jesus Christ for all those who believe; for there is no distinction, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, being justified as a gift by His grace through the redemption which is in Christ Jesus, whom God displayed publicly as a propitiation in His blood through faith.  This was to demonstrate His righteousness, because in God’s merciful restraint He let the sins previously committed go unpunished; for the demonstration, that is, of His righteousness at the present time, so that He would be just and THE JUSTIFIER OF THE ONE WHO HAS FAITH IN JESUS.”
 
That’s what Christmas is all about. It’s the coming of the King and Priest who changes the Law and eternal future for all of us who will transition out of trying to save ourselves, and trust in the blood of Christ as our only righteousness. Amen and hallelujah forever!

King David and the Enemy Within

The book of Judges shows us what life looks like when a people try to live without God. Israel was religious, but their religion had drifted far from the God of Adam and Eve, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, and Joshua. Judges tells us bluntly that a generation arose “who did not know the LORD, nor yet the work which He had done for Israel” (Judg. 2:10).
 
Surrounded by nations with kings, Israel wanted one too. Wanting a king wasn’t the problem—God had already promised a coming ruler from Judah: “The scepter will not depart from Judah, nor the ruler’s staff from between his feet, until Shiloh comes, and to him shall be the obedience of the peoples” (Gen. 49:10). He even gave instructions for Israel’s future king in Deuteronomy 17. The issue wasn’t the idea of kingship, but Israel’s motivation. They wanted a king not to be more like God, but to be more like the nations.
 
Their first king, Saul, looked the part—tall, strong, impressive—but his heart was far from God. He cared more about preserving his image than obeying the Lord. The breaking point came when God commanded him to destroy the Amalekites. The Amalekites were a brutal nomadic tribe who had been Israel’s sworn enemies since the days of Moses, attacking Israel from behind when they were weak and exhausted (Ex. 17). Instead of obeying fully, Saul spared their king and kept what pleased him. So the Lord said through Samuel:
“Has the LORD as much delight in burnt offerings and sacrificesAs in obeying the voice of the LORD?Behold, to obey is better than a sacrifice,And to pay attention than the fat of rams.
For rebellion is as reprehensible as the sin of divination,And insubordination is as reprehensible as false religion and idolatry.Since you have rejected the word of the LORD,He has also rejected you from being king. (1 Sam. 15:22–23)
 
Saul finally confessed, “I have sinned… because I feared the people and listened to their voice” (1 Sam. 15:24), but the damage was done. Samuel told him the kingdom had been torn from him and given to “a neighbor of yours, who is better than you” (v. 28). That neighbor was a young Judean shepherd named David—someone no one expected.
 
When Samuel arrived at the home of Jesse (Boaz and Ruth’s great-grandson), he assumed Israel’s next king would look like one of Jesse’s oldest sons. But God corrected him: “Do not look at his appearance or at the height of his stature, because I have rejected him; for God does not see as man sees, since man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart” (1 Sam. 16:7). After seven sons passed by without God’s approval, Samuel asked, “Are these all the boys?” Only then did Jesse mention his youngest—David—so overlooked that even his family hadn’t considered him.
 
But when David appeared, the Lord said, “Arise, anoint him; for this is he” (v. 12). And from that moment on, “the Spirit of the LORD rushed upon David from that day forward” (v. 13).
 
David Was God’s Man
The first time we are invited to look into David’s heart—and to see what set him apart from everyone else—is in 1 Samuel 17 when he faced Goliath in battle. While Israel’s army stood frozen on the front lines, David had only been sent to deliver food to his brothers. The Philistines had proposed a champion-to-champion battle: Goliath against anyone Israel dared to send. The stakes were high—the losing side would become the servants of the winner.
 
No one in Israel wanted to step forward. After Goliath roared, “I defy the battle lines of Israel this day; give me a man, that we may fight together!” Saul and all Israel were “dismayed and extremely afraid” (1 Sam. 17:10–11). For forty days, the giant’s taunts filled the valley. And for forty days, young David went back and forth between tending his father’s sheep and tending to his brothers—hearing the escalating tension firsthand.
 
Eventually David had heard enough. Offended by Goliath’s insults against God and His people, he asked, “What will be done for the man who kills this Philistine and removes the disgrace from Israel? For who is this uncircumcised Philistine, that he has dared to defy the armies of the living God?” (v. 26).
 
When word reached Saul, David was brought before the king. Without hesitation, he said, “May no man’s heart fail on account of him; your servant will go and fight this Philistine” (v. 32). David stepped forward—not with armor, experience, or military strength—but with confidence in Yahweh.
 
Armed only with a staff, a sling, and five stones, David stood as Israel’s champion. Goliath mocked him, saying, “Am I a dog, that you come to me with sticks?” and cursed him by his gods (v. 43). He then threatened, “Come to me, and I will give your flesh to the birds of the sky and the wild animals” (v. 44). But David’s response revealed everything about his heart and his source of confidence:
But David said to the Philistine, “You come to me with a sword, a spear, and a saber, but I come to you in the name of the Lord of armies, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. This day the Lord will hand you over to me, and I will strike you and remove your head from you. Then I will give the dead bodies of the army of the Philistines this day to the birds of the sky and the wild animals of the earth, so that all the earth may know that there is a God in Israel, and that this entire assembly may know that the Lord does not save by sword or by spear; for the battle is the Lord’s, and He will hand you over to us!” (1 Sam. 17:45–47)
 
David’s confidence was not in his ability, but in God’s character. The God who had rescued Israel before would rescue them again. David slung one stone, struck the giant in the forehead, and killed him with what seemed like nothing more than a slingshot.
 
There was no earthly guarantee that David would defeat Goliath. But he knew God had promised Abraham that Israel would represent Him among the nations, and that a king would one day rise from Judah, the one to whom “the scepter shall not depart… and to him shall be the obedience of the peoples” (Gen. 49:9–10). David trusted that God’s purposes could not be stopped by a Philistine giant.
 
David Was Israel’s Flawed King
Under David’s leadership, Israel finally defeated and subdued the Philistines—the nation’s greatest threat throughout the time of the Judges and during Saul’s reign. David had been one of Saul’s most successful military commanders, and the women of Israel even sang, “Saul has slain his thousands, and David his ten thousands” (1 Sam. 18:7). Under David’s rule the borders of Israel expanded, and the promises made to Abraham appeared closer than ever to becoming reality.
 
Some of the high points of David’s reign include making Jerusalem the capital of Israel, bringing the ark of the covenant back into the city as the visible sign of God’s presence, preparing the way for Solomon to build the temple, and establishing Jerusalem as the spiritual and political center of the nation. David wanted God to be at the center of everything Israel did, reflecting God’s covenant at Sinai where the people were called God’s treasured possession, His kingdom of priests, and His holy nation (Exod. 19).
 
But David is also remembered for one of the darkest moments of his life—his adultery with Bathsheba and the murder of her husband in a desperate attempt to cover up his sin. Uriah, one of David’s most loyal soldiers, was a man devoted to his king and to Israel. He also happened to be married to a woman of striking beauty named Bathsheba.
 
We are told in 2 Samuel 11 that while Israel’s army was out fighting, David remained in Jerusalem—a decision that placed him exactly where temptation could reach him. What follows is one of the most sobering accounts in Scripture:
“Now at evening time David got up from his bed and walked around on the roof of the king’s house, and from the roof he saw a woman bathing; and the woman was very beautiful in appearance. So David sent messengers and inquired about the woman. And someone said, ‘Is this not Bathsheba, the daughter of Eliam, the wife of Uriah the Hittite?’ Then David sent messengers and took her, and when she came to him, he slept with her.”(2 Sam. 11:2–4)
 
Soon after, Bathsheba sent word back to the king: “I am pregnant.” David never imagined his sin would come to light so quickly. Like many who try to hide their sins, he moved from temptation to adultery, and from adultery to deception. He brought Uriah home from battle, attempting to manipulate him into sleeping with his wife so the pregnancy would appear legitimate. But Uriah refused—he would not enjoy the comforts of home while his fellow soldiers risked their lives.
 
With his plans unraveling, David chose a darker path. He wrote a sealed letter to Joab, the commander of the army, and sent it in Uriah’s own hand as messenger. The letter read: “Place Uriah at the front line of the fiercest battle and withdraw from him, so that he may be struck and killed” (2 Sam. 11:14–15). It was a death warrant. And David made Uriah carry it.
 
Uriah died just as David intended, and for a moment the king must have felt deep relief—his sin was concealed. But the covering of sin never hides it from God. The Lord sent the prophet Nathan to confront David, and when the truth broke through David’s self-deception, he finally said, “I have sinned against the LORD.”[1]
 
The difference between David slaying Goliath and David’s failing with Bathsheba was not his strength, his ability, or his status—it was his dependence on God. When David trusted God, giants fell. When David trusted himself, David fell.
 
We Need a True and Better David
It was before David’s great sin with Bathsheba that God promised him that through his linage would come another king in 2 Samuel 7:12–16; this moment is one of the most breathtaking moments in the entire Old Testament. Before a flawed king of whom God knew would fall terribly. The One David worshiped exclusively announced that the hope promised to Adam and Eve, the covenant repeated to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, that would one day burst into reality through one of David’s descendants:
When your days are fulfilled and you lie down with your fathers, I will raise up your offspring after you, who shall come from your body, and I will establish his kingdom. He shall build a house for my name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever. I will be to him a father, and he shall be to me a son. When he commits iniquity, I will discipline him with the rod of men, with the stripes of the sons of men, but my steadfast love will not depart from him, as I took it from Saul, whom I put away from before you. And your house and your kingdom shall be made sure forever before me. Your throne shall be established forever.’” (2 Sam. 7:12–16)
 
This covenant echoes the very promises God made to Adam and Eve, and later to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. It was a promise given specifically to Judah, and its path can be traced through some of the most unlikely people in Scripture. It moved forward through Tamar, a Canaanite woman surrounded by scandal. It continued through Rahab, another Canaanite woman who married Salmon of Judah and became the mother of Boaz. Boaz then married Ruth, a Moabite widow, and they had a son named Obed. Obed fathered Jesse, and from Jesse came David.
 
Consider the astonishing depth of God's grace, mercy, and love—He chooses to accomplish His purposes through people with significant flaws. The covenant God was fulfilling through them is what theologians refer to as an “unconditional covenant”—a promise not reliant on human strength, virtue, or even obedience, but founded solely on the perfect will of our good and holy God![2]
 
Think about the weight of the promise made to David:
A forever throne that will never be compromised by sin.A forever kingdom that will never be overcome by evil.A forever King whose righteousness will never need improvement.
 
Israel didn’t just need a brave king, or a talented king, or even a repentant king—Israel, and indeed the entire world, needed a perfect King. A King who would never fail, never fall, never waiver, and never walk away from God the way David did on the roof that night.
 
And here is where the grace of God overwhelms: God chose to fulfill His forever covenant promise through the very place of David’s greatest failure. Bathsheba—the woman David exploited, the woman whose husband he murdered, the woman whose story began with sin—is the very woman God folded into the line of redemption.
 
Bathsheba bore David five sons; the first was conceived through their affair and was taken from them by God through death. Of the other four sons listed in Scripture, was Solomon and the last child listed was Nathan. Through Solomon, the royal line flowed to Joseph, through Nathan, the line flowed to Mary.  And standing at the end of both genealogies is the One the prophets longed for—Jesus, the Son of David.
 
Jesus is the King that David could never be. He is the flawless Son whom God promised.He is the Shepherd-King of Ezekiel 37 who gathers the broken, restores the wandering, and rules with justice and compassion. He is the One who never surrendered to temptation, never hid His sin, never needed to be confronted by a prophet—because He lived in perfect dependence on the Father every moment of His earthly life.
 
Every one of us knows what it is to stand in front of a “Goliath”—an addiction, a fear, a bitterness, a wound—and feel small. And every one of us knows what it is to stand on the roof like David, spiritually lazy, drifting, self-confident, and one decision away from disaster. But God’s purpose was never for David to be the hero of Israel—David was the signpost, not the destination. His victories pointed to the kind of dependence God wants from us, and his failures pointed to the kind of Savior we desperately need.
 
The remarkable message of the gospel isn’t simply that God offers us another chance, but that He provides us with a greater King—a true and better David. This King never surrendered to temptation, never acted out of pride, and never misused His power for harm. Instead of taking another’s life to hide His wrongdoing, He willingly gave His own life to atone for ours.
 
Jesus, as the Son of David, is the true and better Adam, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Judah, Boaz, and David. He is the King David could never be. And to the weary and the wounded—to the Davids who have fallen, and to the Bathshebas whose stories have been marked by another’s sin—He speaks: “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matt. 11:28–30).
 
[1] David is remembered as a great king, but also as a deeply flawed man. And yet, Scripture still calls him “a man after My heart” (Acts 13:22).
[2] “Remember this, and be assured; Recall it to mind, you wrongdoers. Remember the former things long past, for I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is no one like Me, declaring the end from the beginning, and from ancient times things which have not been done, saying, ‘My plan will be established, And I will accomplish all My good pleasure...’” (Isa. 46:8-10).

The Moabite & the Kinsman Redeemer

The story of Ruth begins with these words: “In the days when the judges governed…” (v. 1a). Just before Joshua died after a lifetime of faithful service, he warned all of Israel:
“Now therefore fear the LORD and serve him in sincerity and faithfulness. Put away the gods your fathers served beyond the River and in Egypt, and serve the LORD. And if it is evil in your eyes to serve the LORD, choose this day whom you will serve... But as for me and my house, we will serve the LORD.” (Josh. 24:14-15)
 
The book of Judges recounts Israel’s history shortly after entering the promised land, and just in the second chapter, we are told: “Then the sons of Israel did evil in the sight of the Lord and served the Baals, and they abandoned the Lord, the God of their fathers...” (Jud. 2:11-12), which characterizes the tone and climate of Israel’s spiritual health.  The book of Judges also concludes with the words: “In those days there was no king in Israel. Everyone did what was right in his own eyes” (Jug. 21:25).
 
While in the wilderness, God warned Israel that there would be consequences to their choices, especially when it came to their trust of God and obedience to God: “Beware that your hearts are not easily deceived, and that you do not turn away and serve other gods, and worship them. Otherwise, the anger of the LORD will be kindled against you, and He will shut up the sky so that there will be no rain, and the ground will not yield its produce; then you will quickly perish from the good land which the LORD is giving you” (Deut. 11:16-17)
 
As we move from Judges into the book of Ruth, the opening five verses immediately shed light on the spiritual condition of Naomi’s husband, Elimelech. These verses reveal how Elimelech, in his role as both husband and father, deeply influenced the direction and well-being of his family. The famine in the land did not just reflect a lack of physical food; it also mirrored the spiritual famine within Elimelech’s own heart and soul.
 
There are some things I want to point out to you that I believe will help you appreciate just how relevant this book is to us today. 
 
First, let me begin by stating that Bethlehem means “house of bread” yet there was no bread in Bethlehem because there was famine in the land due to Israel’s disobedience. God had promised that He would bless His people if they obeyed Him, so the reason why there was no bread in Bethlehem was because of Israel’s unfaithfulness, not God’s unfaithfulness. 
Second, we are told that Elimelech was “a man of Bethlehem in Judah...”, which means that he belonged to the tribe of Judah.  God called Elimelech to live in Bethlehem, yet he chose to move to Moab because he believed that he and his family could thrive in a place outside of where God called him to live. 
 
Some of the things that Elimelech had to know about Moab was that the people originated out of an incestuous relationship after Lot’s older daughter got him drunk for the purpose of having sex with her father so that she could become pregnant with his child (Gen. 19:30-38). Secondly, the Moabites were known for their scheming to get Israel to sin against God (Num. 22-24).  Thirdly, the Women of Moab were known for seducing the Israelite men for the purpose of getting them to worship the gods of Moab (Num. 25).  Moab was not a place for a family to thrive spiritually, but this is the place that Elimelech took his family to live.
 
The other important detail we need to consider is that while Naomi’s name means “Pleasant” nothing about her life seemed pleasant.  Her husband’s name meant “God is my king” but he certainly did not live like God was his king. The meaning of the names of their two sons were, Mahlon (Weakness, sickness) and Chilion (destruction, failure); both men took for themselves Moabite women who did not grow up worshiping the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; taking Moabite women as wives was something God commanded Israel not to do (see Deut. 7:1-4).  Noami’s husband and both of her sons died, leaving her with nothing but two daughters-in-law who were also destitute with no husband or male child.
 
Naomi Suffered Loss  
When Naomi left Bethlehem with her husband and two sons, she left full. Because of the famine in the land (v. 1), moving to Moab must have felt like the right decision—an act of survival for the sake of their family. But while in Moab, tragedy struck. Her husband, Elimelech, died. Then her two sons married Moabite women, Orpah and Ruth—something God had warned His people against because of the danger of idolatry (Deut. 7:2–3). And after marrying these women, both of Naomi’s sons also died, leaving her with two widowed Moabite daughters-in-law and no descendants of her own.
 
Naomi had lost the three most important men in her life, along with any hope of lineage, inheritance, or security. There was nothing for her in Moab, and because of her husband’s death after leaving Bethlehem, there was nothing but maybe the kindness of her relatives back in Judah. So when she returned to Bethlehem, it is no surprise that she no longer wanted to be called Naomi, which means “pleasant.” She asked instead to be called Mara, meaning “bitter.” She explained the bitterness in her own words: “The Almighty has dealt very bitterly with me. I went away full, and the LORD has brought me back empty” (vv. 20–21).
 
Ruth: A Woman of Excellence
Naomi failed to recognize the blessing her Moabite daughter-in-law truly was. When Naomi decided to return to Bethlehem, she urged both Orpah and Ruth to go back to their own people and gods in Moab. While Orpah left to go back to her people and her gods, Ruth decided to remain with Naomi and even declared to her mother-in-law: “Do not plead with me to leave you or to turn back from following you; for where you go, I will go, and where you sleep, I will sleep. Your people shall be my people, and your God, my God. Where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried. May the LORD do so to me, and worse, if anything but death separates me from you.” (1:16–18).
 
One reason Naomi discouraged Ruth from coming back with her was concern for Ruth’s safety. There was significant hostility between Moabites and Israelites. This is clear in chapter two, after Ruth entered a field belonging to Boaz. Everyone in the field knew Ruth was a foreigner, as the foreman explained to Boaz, “She is the young Moabite woman who returned with Naomi from Moab.” Boaz’s response reveals the real danger Ruth faced. He spoke kindly to her, saying, “Listen carefully, my daughter. Do not go to glean in another field; furthermore, do not go on from this one, but join my young women here. Keep your eyes on the field which they reap, and go after them. Indeed, I have ordered the servants not to touch you. When you are thirsty, go to the water jars and drink from what the servants draw” (Ruth 2:8–9).
Ruth’s foreign status exposed her to rejection, prejudice, and mistreatment—yet she chose to stay with Naomi anyway, embracing uncertainty and risking lifelong exclusion.
 
Her courage did not go unnoticed. In chapter three, Boaz calls Ruth a “woman of excellence” (3:11)—a term that carries the sense of valor, honor, and strength of character. Remarkably, the same word is used of Boaz in 2:1, while you do not see it in the way the NASB translated Ruth 2:1, just about every other translation does recognize this: “Now Naomi had a relative of her husband’s, a worthy man of the clan of Elimelech, whose name was Boaz.” The parallel is deliberate. The narrator wants us to see that Ruth and Boaz are kindred spirits—two people marked by integrity, bravery, and covenant faithfulness in a time when such qualities were rare in Israel.
 
Boaz: A Kinsmen Redeemer
Boaz is the third important character in the story of Ruth, for he is the only one qualified to serve as Naomi’s kinsman-redeemer. Every kinsman-redeemer had to meet three qualifications: 
He had to be a family member, 
He had to have the ability to redeem, and 
He had to be willing to redeem.
 
A kinsman-redeemer held several responsibilities in the Old Testament: he could buy back family land lost to famine or debt (Lev. 25:25–30), redeem relatives who had sold themselves into slavery (Lev. 25:47–55), avenge the unlawful death of a family member (Num. 35; Deut. 19; Josh. 20), and step in when a family member faced a wrong they could not fix on their own.
 
Naomi needed that kind of help. She had lost her husband and both sons. She had no land, no security, and no hope. Ruth could not redeem her, so she went out to glean in the fields—a provision God had given for the poor and the foreigner (Lev. 19:9–10). That’s where we first meet Boaz. He told Ruth, “Do not go to another field… I have ordered the young men not to touch you” (Ruth 2:8–9). Ruth bowed in gratitude, asking why he would show kindness to a foreigner. Boaz told her he had heard of her loyalty to Naomi and her trust in Israel’s God (2:11–13). He saw Ruth as a woman of excellence—worthy of honor and protection.
 
When Naomi learned how Boaz treated Ruth, she urged Ruth to approach him at the threshing floor. Though the scene might look questionable at first glance, Ruth 3:6–13 makes it clear: both Ruth and Boaz acted with purity and integrity. Ruth lay quietly at his feet, and when Boaz awoke, she said, “Spread your wings over your servant, for you are a redeemer.” She wasn’t tempting him—she was invoking covenant language, the same “wings” imagery Boaz used earlier of the LORD’s care (see 2:12). Boaz responded with joy: “I will do all that you ask, for everyone knows you are a worthy woman” (3:11). He was both willing and able to redeem her.
 
And he did. “So Boaz took Ruth, and she became his wife. And he went in to her, and the Lord gave her conception, and she bore a son” (4:13). Through Boaz, Naomi’s emptiness was replaced with joy, and Ruth was blessed with a godly husband and a son. The women of the town celebrated:
Then the women said to Naomi, “Blessed is the Lord who has not left you without a redeemer today, and may his name become famous in Israel. May he also be to you one who restores life and sustains your old age; for your daughter-in-law, who loves you and is better to you than seven sons, has given birth to him.” Then Naomi took the child and laid him in her lap, and became his nurse. And the neighbor women gave him a name, saying, “A son has been born to Naomi!” So they named him Obed. He is the father of Jesse, the father of David. (4:14-17)
 
What began in sorrow ended in joy. What started with loss ended in redemption. God used a barley field, a faithful woman, and a willing redeemer to bring about His plan—not just for Naomi and Ruth, but through Boaz and Ruth the line of the kings would come with the birth of David by whom all other kings would be compared in Israel.
 
This leaves us with the point of this little book in the Bible.
 
There is a True and Better Redeemer
Boaz was not only Naomi’s redeemer—he was also a picture of the Redeemer who would one day come through his and Ruth’s own bloodline.  Boaz was only a shadow of a true and better Boaz.  Remember the announcement of Jesus’ birth delivered by the angels to lowly shepherds: And so the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people; for today in the city of David [Bethlehem] there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord” (Luke 2:10-11). 
 
It was the disobedience of Israel that led to the famine that compelled Naomi’s husband and sons to leave where there was no bread to a place that led to a deeper and more severe famine that left Naomi empty.  God used all of the hard things in Naomi’s life so that another Son would be born in that same city to do what no other person was able to do; Jesus said of Himself: “I am the bread of life; the one who comes to Me will not be hungry, and the one who believes in Me will never be thirsty” (John 6:35).
 
When Adam and Eve bit into the forbidden fruit, creation was cursed and humanity was lost. Eden was forfeited, and mankind was expelled from God’s presence. The only way for Eden to be restored and the curse removed was for another Adam to come—one who was related to humanity, who had the ability to redeem what was lost, and who was willing to carry out the redemption. Ruth and Boaz had a son named Obed; Obed fathered Jesse; Jesse fathered David. Many generations later, Jesus was born to Mary—conceived supernaturally while she remained a virgin—qualifying Him uniquely as the Kinsman-Redeemer mankind and creation needs. How was Jesus qualified?
 
Jesus had to be a family member of humanity, and He was, as demonstrated by the human bloodline recorded in Scripture.
Jesus had to have the ability to redeem, which He had because the virgin birth made Him both fully God and fully man—perfectly qualified to redeem creation.
Jesus had to be willing to redeem, and that willingness led Him to the cross, where He became our curse and took our sin upon Himself.
 
Jesus did not remain dead. On the third day He rose in victory! Our Kinsman-Redeemer lived the perfect life we could not live, died as the sin-bearer though He was spotless, and then conquered death itself. All of heaven rejoices that the Redeemer who was slain now stands—alive—interceding for us: “Worthy are You to take the scroll and to break its seals, for You were slaughtered, and You purchased people for God with Your blood from every tribe, language, people, and nation. You have made them a kingdom and priests to our God, and they will reign upon the earth” (Rev. 5:9–10).  And maybe that’s where you need hope today.
Perhaps you are living with the consequences of choices you made years ago.
Perhaps bitterness has taken root because life did not turn out the way you imagined.
Perhaps, like Naomi’s family, you have wandered far into “Moab”—far from God, far from joy, far from where you began.
 
But hear the good news: the book of Ruth declares that no one is too far for God’s love, grace, and mercy to reach.
If God can take a famine, a foreigner, and a broken widow and weave them into the lineage of King David and ultimately Jesus Christ Himself—He can redeem your story too!

The Temple of God and the Towers of Men

The Garden of Eden was not the whole earth, but a sacred sanctuary God Himself planted—a place where Adam and Eve enjoyed His presence. We know this because they were driven out of Eden (Gen. 3:23), and because God stationed cherubim at its eastward entrance to guard the way to the Tree of Life (Gen. 3:24). Their worship was expressed through faithful obedience and the holy work of tending the garden. In many ways, Eden was heaven on earth—the first dwelling place of God with His people, the first tabernacle where God and humanity met in perfect fellowship.
 
When Adam and Eve sinned, their innocence was stripped away, but God immediately spoke hope into their judgment. In Genesis 3:15, He promised that a future Son—the Seed of the woman—would crush the serpent’s head. Adam and Eve responded in faith by doing what God commanded from the beginning: they conceived and bore sons beginning with Cain, then Abel, and finally Seth (Gen. 1:28).
 
But the curse quickly revealed itself. Cain murdered Abel, violence filled families and nations, and by Genesis 6:5, “every intent of the thoughts of their hearts was only evil continually.” God judged the earth through the flood, yet in His mercy preserved Noah and established a covenant never again to destroy all flesh by water (Gen. 9:8–17). Still, the flood did not cleanse the human heart.
 
As humanity repopulated the earth and shared one language, their rebellion resurfaced. In Genesis 11, they journeyed east—a biblical sign of moving away from God’s presence—and settled in Shinar. Determined to build something impressive and permanent, they said, “Let us make bricks and fire them thoroughly...” and, “Let us build a city and a tower with its top in the heavens.” Their motives were unmistakable: “Let us make a name (šēm) for ourselves.” Instead of spreading over the earth as God commanded, they sought unity, identity, and greatness apart from Him. It was human pride attempting to reach heaven without God.
 
As a result, God dispersed the people throughout the earth and confused their language (Gen. 11:8–9). Immediately following this event, the narrative shifts to Abraham—a man whose background included worshiping other gods (Josh. 24:2). God called Abraham, promising to make his descendants exceedingly numerous, to form a great nation from him, and to bless all nations through his lineage. It was from Abraham’s family that the twelve tribes of Israel emerged, including the tribe of Levi, from which Moses and Aaron would later arise.
 
Through Moses, God delivered the Ten Commandments and the Law (Exod. 20). Through Aaron and his sons, God established the priesthood (Exod. 28). And between the giving of the Law and the ordination of the priests, God commanded Israel to build the Tabernacle (a sanctuary)—a dwelling place for His presence: “Let them make a sanctuary for Me, so that I may dwell among them…exactly according to the pattern I show you” (Exod. 25:8–9).
 
This brings us to the heart of the matter. Why does the Tabernacle exist, and what does it have to do with Babel—and with you as a Christian today? That is what I want to help you understand.
 
The Tabernacle: God’s Kingdom is Built by His Presence
Before Adam and Eve sinned in Eden, they lived in the immediate presence of God. Eden was the first earthly Tabernacle—the first place where God dwelled with humanity.[1] Adam was commissioned to cultivate the garden, to be fruitful and multiply, and to exercise dominion as a kind of priest-king. The role God gave Adam is echoed later in the ministry of Israel’s priests. Just as Adam was commanded to “work and keep” the garden (Gen. 2:15), the priests who served in the Tabernacle were charged with tending its furnishings and performing its sacred duties (Num. 3:7–8).
 
After Adam and Eve rebelled, God pronounced judgment yet also extended hope. In Genesis 3:15, He promised that a Deliverer—the Seed of the woman—would one day crush the serpent’s head and undo what sin had destroyed. Yet the immediate consequence of their sin was exile from God’s presence: “So He drove the man out; and at the east of the garden of Eden He stationed the cherubim and the flaming sword…to guard the way to the tree of life” (Gen. 3:24).
 
To understand the purpose and significance of the Tabernacle, we must begin by asking a foundational question: Why did God command Israel to build it? According to Exodus 25:8–9, God commanded a sanctuary so that He might once again dwell among His people—in a manner that echoed Eden itself. 
 
But human history—from Eden to Babel—shows us that people in their sin insist on approaching God on their own terms rather than His. In Genesis 11, humanity sought to reach heaven through their own greatness. In the same way, the nations worshiped their gods “on the high mountains…on the hills…and under every leafy tree” (Deut. 12:2). Israel was not allowed to imitate this. Deuteronomy 12 makes it clear that there is only one true God, and He must be approached His way, not ours. The Tabernacle existed so that God’s people could meet Him—but only on His terms.
The Garden of Eden served as the first tabernacle, and the Tabernacle God instructed Moses to build was intentionally designed to reflect Eden. Consider the parallels:
Eastward entrance:The Tabernacle opened to the east (Exod. 27:13–16), just as Eden did when the cherubim were stationed there (Gen. 3:24).
 
Tree imagery:The lampstand (menorah) was fashioned like an almond tree in bloom (Exod. 25:31–36), recalling the Tree of Life.
 
Cherubim guardians:In Eden, cherubim guarded the Tree of Life; in the Tabernacle, cherubim covered the mercy seat above the ark (Exod. 25:18–20).
 
Priestly ministry:Adam served as the first priest; Israel’s priests continued the priestly calling Adam failed to fulfill.
 
Because the Tabernacle was constructed to be set up and taken down throughout Israel’s wilderness journey, it functioned as a portable Eden—a traveling sanctuary where God’s presence dwelled among His people. For forty years in the wilderness, God Himself led His people by a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night, visibly demonstrating that He alone was their Guide, Protector, and King. Whenever Israel made camp, the Tabernacle was deliberately placed at the very center of the community. This was no accidental detail; its central position proclaimed a foundational truth: we do not climb our way up to God—He graciously comes down to dwell with us.
 
To reinforce this truth, the layout of the Tabernacle was divided into three sections, each revealing something of God’s holiness and the reverence required to approach Him. The closer one moved toward the center, the closer one came to the manifest presence of God:
The Outer Court — accessible to the people, where sacrifices were brought and offerings were made.
 
The Holy Place — entered only by the priests, where the lampstand, table of bread, and altar of incense stood.
 
The Holy of Holies — the innermost chamber where God’s presence rested above the mercy seat, entered only once a year by the High Priest on the Day of Atonement.
 
Far from being a religious ornament or symbolic tent, the Tabernacle was the tangible expression of God’s desire to dwell with His people. Its daily presence reminded Israel—and reminds us—that humanity was created by God and for God, and that our life, identity, and purpose can only be rightly ordered when He is at the center. And even then, as precious as it was, the Tabernacle pointed beyond itself. It was a signpost leading God’s people toward a greater reality—a true and better Tabernacle who would one day come and dwell with His people fully and forever.
 
The presence of God was what set Israel apart from every other nation. In Exodus 19, God said to His people: “You yourselves have seen what I did to the Egyptians, and how I carried you on eagles’ wings, and brought you to Myself. Now then, if you will indeed obey My voice and keep My covenant, then you shall be My own possession among all the peoples—for all the earth is Mine; and you shall be to Me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation” (vv. 4–6).
 
God did not exist for Israel; Israel existed for God. As His covenant people, they were called to be His representatives before the nations.
 
The Tower of Babel: Man’s Kingdom is Built by His Pride
So what about Babel? Let me state the obvious first: The very name of Babel should immediately bring to mind the Babylon that would rise to empire status 1,500 to 2,000 years later after the events of Genesis 11.  We do not have the time to exhaust all that can be gleaned from Genesis 11, but I will point out some things that will make sense of why Babylon is such a big deal in the Bible.  Here is a list of characteristics from Genesis 11 that captures the spirit of Babylon that we see both in the Bible and the world:
 
A desire to build Eden without God — a city in their own likeness.
They journeyed east (Gen. 11:2), a clue in the Bible that they were moving away from the presence of God (cf. Gen. 3:24; 4:16). Rather than longing for the God of Eden, they attempted to recreate Eden according to their own design—a human-centered world where they defined what was good, beautiful, and true.
 
The spirit of Babel wants the blessings of Eden without the God of Eden.
 
Confidence in human ingenuity as the foundation of security.
They urged one another, “Come, let’s make bricks and fire them thoroughly.” Their trust was in what they could craft, engineer, and construct apart from the Creator. Their hope rested not on God’s provision but on human innovation, technology, and technique.
 
The spirit of Babel believes salvation is self-made.
 
Access to the heavens on human terms rather than God’s terms.
They resolved, “Come, let’s build ourselves a city, and a tower whose top will reach into heaven…” The structure was almost certainly a ziggurat—an artificial mountain intended to bridge earth and heaven. Babel is humanity’s attempt to redefine God, remake Him in their own image, and gain access to the divine realm without submission to divine rule.
 
The spirit of Babel wants God’s realm without God’s rule.
 
A mission driven by human greatness instead of God’s glory.
Their ambition was explicit: “Let us make a name for ourselves…” Yet God had commanded humanity to fill the earth with His glory through image-bearing worshipers (Gen. 1:28; 9:1). Instead, they gathered to consolidate power, exalt themselves, and build a city like Eden—but rooted in pride rather than worship. Their identity was tethered to reputation, not to obedience. Their mission was fame, not faithfulness.
 
The spirit of Babel builds kingdoms for the greatness of man instead of the greatness of God.
 
So, what is the point?  Why is Babel an important theme that runs through the Bible? Babel serves as the prototype for every empire founded on human arrogance—whether Egypt, Assyria, Babylon, Rome, or any contemporary nation that pursues greatness apart from God. 
 
Why did God instruct Moses and the Israelites to build the Tabernacle after their deliverance from the bondage of slavery in Egypt?  The Tabernacle is the blueprint of God’s kingdom—marked by humility, obedience, sacrifice, and God’s presence among His people.
 
What we learn from Deuteronomy 12, is that God must be worshiped on His terms, not ours. Not on the high places we create on our terms. Not under the leafy trees we desire. But in the place where He chooses to make His name dwell.
 
Conclusion
The tower of Babel and the Tabernacle represent two kingdoms and two ways to live. 
Babel represents man’s attempt to reach up to the heavens. The Tabernacle is about the God who came down.
Babel exalts human greatness. The Tabernacle revealed God’s glory and holiness.
Babel glorifies humanity. The Tabernacle gathered a people for God’s glory.
Babel is fueled by human pride, rebellion, and independence. The Tabernacle symbolized the grace, redemption, and freedom only God can provide.
 
The spirit of Babel is most clearly seen in the rise of national superpowers and empires throughout history. We see this vividly in the book of Daniel, where Daniel and many others from Judah were exiled into the heart of the Babylonian empire. In Daniel 2, King Nebuchadnezzar received a dream from God in which he saw a massive statue—a single image made of four different materials. That statue represented four successive world empires, each of which embodied the same proud, self-exalting spirit of Babel: Babylon, Medo-Persia, Greece, and Rome.
 
But in the dream, something remarkable happened. The king saw a stone “cut out without hands”—not made by human ingenuity or empire-building power. This stone struck the statue on its feet, shattering the entire image and reducing every kingdom to dust carried away by the wind. Of this stone, Daniel declared to the king: “In the days of those kings the God of heaven will set up a kingdom that will never be destroyed… It will crush and put an end to all these kingdoms, but it will itself endure forever” (Dan. 2:44–45).
 
Brothers and sisters, there is One who is greater than the Tabernacle!  The Tabernacle and the sacrifices and worship that took place within it all pointed to that first Christmas when God made His dwelling among us through Jesus His Son: “And the Word became flesh, and dwelt [tabernacle] among us; and we saw His glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14).  The Tabernacle pointed to the day when mankind would experience God as Immanuel: “Therefore the Lord Himself will give you a sign: Behold, the virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and she will name Him Immanuel [God with us]” (Isa. 7:14).
 
Where Babel said, “Let us climb up to heaven,” Jesus said, “I will come down from heaven.”
 
Where Babel said, “Let us make a name for ourselves,” the Word of God declares: “His name is above every name, and at the Name of Jesus every knee will bow, of those who are in heaven and on earth and under earth.” (Phil. 2:9-11)
 
Where Babel used bricks to build a monument to their greatness, Jesus gave Himself as the Lamb of God to build His Church and Kingdom for the glory of the Father.
 
Where Babel confused languages, the gospel of Jesus Christ unites every tribe and tongue in worship because the Lion of Judah conquered as the Lamb of God.
 
We learn from Deuteronomy 12 that we come to God on His terms to worship in the place where He chooses to make His name dwell.  For you Christian, that place is not a tent or a building, but Christ Himself! Is our Tabernacle, He is our High Priest, He is our sacrifice, He is our Mediator and our access to the Father!
 
Every empire built on the spirit of Babel—whether ancient or modern—will fall. Only the kingdom established by God will stand forever. And the stone not cut by human hands points us directly to the true King — Jesus Christ, whose eternal kingdom will crush every Babel that rises against God.
 
There is coming a day when Babylon will be defeated!  Our faithful High Priest who entered the Holy of Holies once and for all will return and when He comes, we will experience the promise that the people of God have longed for since the first Eden:
“Behold, the tabernacle of God is among the people, and He will dwell among them, and they shall be His people, and God Himself will be among them, and He will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain; the first things have passed away.” (Rev. 21:3-4)
 
[1] On the earthly Tabernacle as a model of the heavenly Tabernacle, see Hebrews 8:4-5, “Now if He were on earth, He would not be a priest at all, since there are those who offer the gifts according to the Law; who serve a copy and shadow of the heavenly things, just as Moses was warned by God when he was about to erect the tabernacle; for, ‘See’ He says, ‘that you make all things by the pattern which was shown to you on the mountain.’”

Moses and the Gods of Egypt

When Moses was born the Hebrew people had been living in Egypt for quite a time. Initially under the protection of Joseph and Pharoah and welcomed as honored guests; they had become an oppressed and enslaved nation. Fearing their growing strength, Pharaoh ordered every Hebrew boy to be thrown into the Nile. But one mother’s courage defied the king’s decree. She hid her child as long as she could, then placed him in a basket coated with tar and pitch and set him afloat on the Nile river. By God’s providence, Pharaoh’s daughter found the baby and raised him as her own.
 
Moses grew up amid the luxury of Pharaoh’s court, yet he never forgot his Hebrew roots. His passion for justice—and his temper—would define much of his life. When he saw an Egyptian beating a Hebrew slave, Moses struck down the oppressor and hid the body in the sand (Exod. 2:11–12). When the act became known, he fled to the wilderness of Midian, where he spent forty years as a shepherd, husband, and son-in-law to Jethro—waiting for the day when God would call him to lead His people out of bondage.
 
By the time we reach Exodus 3, Moses had already spent those forty years in Midian tending sheep. Then, before a burning bush, he encountered the living God—the God of Adam and Eve,
Noah, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. God entered into Moses’ world in such a way that he would never be the same again. When God called to him from the bush, He said, “Do not come near here; remove your sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground” (v. 5). What made the ground holy? The presence of God made it holy. As R.C. Sproul wrote in his classic The Holiness of God: “God alone is holy in Himself. Only God can sanctify something else. Only God can give the touch that changes it from the commonplace to something special, different, and apart.”
 
The God who spoke to Moses from within the burning bush is not only holy—but faithful. While many Hebrews believed that God had forgotten them, the Lord reminded Moses that He is not only all-seeing, but full of mercy: “I have certainly seen the oppression of My people who are in Egypt, and have heard their outcry because of their taskmasters, for I am aware of their sufferings” (v. 7). Then God said to Moses, “And now come, and I will send you to Pharaoh, so that you may bring My people, the sons of Israel, out of Egypt” (v. 10). To this, Moses humbly replied, “Who am I, that I should go to Pharaoh, and that I should bring the sons of Israel out of Egypt?”
 
All that Moses saw in himself was his own failures and weaknesses. But for God, it didn’t matter how weak Moses was, for He delights to use the foolish to shame the wise and the weak to shame the strong (1 Cor. 1:26–31). What the burning bush reminds us of is not only that God is holy, or that He is omniscient, or that He is faithful to His promises, but that God uses people not because He needs to, but because He wants to. Just as God did not need Noah or Joseph to address the problems of the world, He did not need Moses.  The marvel of the story of God and the people He chooses to use has more to do with that fact that He invites people like us into His mission and the story He is telling.
 
There is a Mediator Who Stands in Your Place
After God revealed Himself to Moses as Yahweh—the covenant-keeping God—He commissioned Moses to return to Egypt. Understandably, Moses questioned, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” God assured him, “I will certainly be with you” (Exod. 3:10–12). And when Moses was to speak to the people of Israel, God instructed him to say, “I AM WHO I AM has sent me to you” (v. 14).
 
One of the characteristics that distinguishes the God of Abraham from the gods of Egypt is His faithfulness—He keeps His promises. This is expressed beautifully in Exodus 6:2–5, where God tells Moses, “I am the LORD. I appeared to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob as God Almighty, but by my name the LORD I did not make myself fully known to them. I also established my covenant with them to give them the land of Canaan, where they resided as foreigners. Moreover, I have heard the groaning of the Israelites, whom the Egyptians are enslaving, and I have remembered my covenant.” God’s faithfulness is not only in His name but in His actions, His compassion, and His unwavering remembrance of His promises.
 
Do you remember Leah—the “ugly” wife whom Jacob did not love? Not only was Judah born to her, but so was Levi. About five generations later, we read in Exodus 2:1 of a man from the house of Levi who married a daughter of Levi. Together they had three children: Miriam, Aaron, and Moses.
 
It was after Miriam and Aaron’s birth—but before Moses was born—that Pharaoh commanded every Hebrew son to be thrown into the Nile (see Exod. 1:20–22). Yet from this very family, God raised up the leaders who would deliver His people. Moses would lead Israel out of bondage, serving as a type of king who would shepherd God’s people through the wilderness. Aaron would become God’s priest, and through him the priestly line would continue (Exod. 28:1–29:9). Miriam would be identified as a prophetess (Exod. 15:20–21).
 
Don’t miss this: God used all three—Moses, Aaron, and Miriam—to lead His people out of Egypt, yet Aaron and Miriam would serve the people under Moses’ leadership (see Mic. 6:4).  But it was to Moses, that God said, “I have made you as God to Pharaoh, and your brother Aaron shall be your prophet.” And when Miriam and Aaron forgot their place and Moses’ God-ordained role before Israel, God said, “Now hear My words: If there is a prophet among you, I, the Lord, will make Myself known to him in a vision. I will speak with him in a dream. “It is not this way for My servant Moses; He is faithful in all My household; with him I speak mouth to mouth, that is, openly, and not using mysterious language, and he beholds the form of the Lord. So why were you not afraid to speak against My servant, against Moses?” (see Num. 12:1-8).
 
Follow the Deliverer Who Leads His People Out of Bondage
Moses stood before Pharaoh and Israel as a type of shepherd-king—a mediator and prophet who spoke on God’s behalf. Listen to how the Lord described Moses’ role:
“As for you, you shall speak all that I command you, and your brother Aaron shall speak to Pharaoh that he let the sons of Israel go out of his land. But I will harden Pharaoh’s heart, so that I may multiply My signs and My wonders in the land of Egypt. When Pharaoh does not listen to you, I will lay My hand on Egypt and bring out My armies, My people the sons of Israel, from the land of Egypt by great judgments. Then the Egyptians shall know that I am the Lord, when I extend My hand over Egypt and bring out the sons of Israel from their midst.” (Exod. 7:2-5).
 
When Moses and Aaron appeared before Pharaoh, they declared, “Thus says the LORD, ‘Let My people go.’” (Exod. 5:1). Pharaoh not only refused but mocked the God of Israel: “Who is the Lord that I should obey His voice to let Israel go?  I do not know the Lord, and besides, I will not let Israel go” (5:1-2). To prove that no one would command Pharoah of Egypt, he made the Israelites’ labor even harsher, forcing them to gather their own straw while maintaining the same quota of bricks.
 
What followed was a succession of ten plagues, each designed to expose the impotence of Egypt’s gods and, in many cases, to mock them directly. The first nine fall naturally into three escalating triads:
Plagues of defilement: water turned to blood (7:14–24), frogs overran the land (8:1–15), and gnats or lice tormented Egypt (8:16–19).
 
Plagues of destruction: swarms of flies invaded (8:20–32); disease killed Egypt’s livestock while Israel’s remained unharmed (9:1–7); and boils afflicted people and animals alike (9:8–12).
 
Plagues of devastation: hail mixed with fire ravaged the land (9:13–35); locusts devoured the remaining crops (10:1–20); and darkness—a direct assault on Ra, the sun-god—covered Egypt for three days (10:21–29).
 
Each judgment demonstrated Yahweh’s sovereignty, yet Pharaoh’s heart only grew harder. Enraged, he shouted to Moses—who stood before him as God’s representative: “Get away from me! Be careful, do not see my face again, for on the day you see my face, you shall die!” (10:28).
 
The cognitive dissonance of Pharaoh towards the God of the Israel was not only irrational, but insane!  He was dealing with the God who He could not defeat, for in the words of the apostle Paul, it was the equivalent of the clay pot accusing the potter that He had no rights over what He created (Rom. 9:19ff.).  In essence, Pharaoh’s heart cried out to the God of Moses, “Who are You to tell me what I can and cannot do?”
 
Before we shake our heads or point our finger at Pharaoh in disgust, we must ask ourselves: What has God commanded us to release or submit to that we have resisted with the same question— “Who is Yahweh that I should obey His voice?”
 
Live in the Victory of the Lamb Who Triumphed Over Every Power
Before the final plague, Israel was commanded to take a male lamb without defect and keep it for four days—long enough to confirm it was spotless and long enough for it to become, in a sense, their lamb (Exod. 12:1–6). On the fourteenth day, the lamb was to be slaughtered at twilight, and its blood applied “on the two doorposts and on the lintel of the houses in which they eat it” (v. 7). Afterward, the entire household was to eat the lamb together (vv. 8–11).
 
For what purpose was the perfect and spotless lamb slaughtered?  We are told why in Exodus 12:12, “For I will go through the land of Egypt on that night, and fatally strike all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, from the human firstborn to animals; and against all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgments—I am the Lord.” Who would God strike? The firstborn sons—both human and animal—and the gods (elohim) of Egypt. These “gods” were not merely lifeless idols but spiritual powers, demonic forces that animated Egypt’s sorcery and who also held Pharaoh and his people captive[1] (see Deut. 32:17; 1 Cor. 10:20–22).[2]
 
So what fueled Pharaoh’s hatred of Yahweh and his oppression of Israel? His sin and pride, certainly—but beneath that rebellion lay a demonic conflict. The showdown between Moses and Pharaoh, Israel and Egypt, was not merely political or personal; it was spiritual warfare. As Paul later wrote, “For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places” (Eph. 6:12).
 
Every plague before the tenth was a call to repentance—a chance for Pharaoh, for Egypt, and even for any Hebrew who had turned to Egypt’s idols, to turn back to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. But only through the blood of the lamb would anyone experience deliverance and victory. But, why the firstborn? 
 
At the summit of Egypt’s pantheon stood Ra (Re), the so-called “god of gods,” depicted with the head of a falcon and the solar disk encircled by a cobra—a symbol of divine power and kingship. Pharaoh was worshiped as the son of Ra, and his own firstborn son was regarded as the next embodiment of divine rule. In one decisive act, Yahweh crushed the head of Egypt’s god for the purpose of liberating captive Israel and any Egyptian who wished to turn to the true Creator, and He did it through the blood of the lamb!
 
Conclusion
Through this series, you’ve been reminded of the true and better Adam who embraced a tree for our redemption and life. You’ve seen the true and better Isaac, who carried His cross to the place of execution for sins we committed, that we might become children of God through His willing death. There is a true and better Israel, who pursued the unfaithful bride and redeemed her to be clothed in white, never again enslaved to sin. And there is a true and better Moses—the Prophet who perfectly represents God, the High Priest who intercedes for us, and the flawless Shepherd-King whose lordship demands our obedience.
 
Behind Egypt’s gods stood a master deceiver—the father of lies, the ancient serpent—who twists truth and opposes the purposes of God. When Moses stood before Pharaoh, he wasn’t merely confronting a ruler; he was standing against the spiritual powers of darkness. In that moment, Moses foreshadowed the One who would intercede perfectly on our behalf.
 
Jesus is the true and better Moses—the long-promised Deliverer, the Lion of Judah who became the Lamb of God to set captives free. He alone is the sinless Son of the Father, who took on flesh and dwelt among us—the Lamb who takes away the sin of the world. But His death did more than address our guilt; it triumphed over sin, death, and every power opposed to God’s kingdom. Through His cross and resurrection, Jesus destroyed “the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil” (Heb. 2:14), and “the works of the devil” (1 John 3:8).
 
When we turn to the book of Revelation, we witness a dramatic, global reenactment of the Exodus story: the seven seals, seven trumpets, and seven bowls each unleash escalating judgments, echoing the plagues that struck Egypt. Yet, just as Pharaoh stubbornly hardened his heart, so too does humanity in the final days. Scripture warns, “The rest of mankind, who were not killed by these plagues, did not repent of the works of their hands; they continued to worship demons and idols of gold, silver, brass, stone, and wood—idols that can neither see, hear, nor walk. They refused to repent of their murders, their sorceries, their sexual immorality, or their thefts” (Rev. 9:20-21).  So we must ask regarding ourselves: “Who is Yahweh that I should obey Him?”
 
The true and better Moses, the Lamb of God, was slain to liberate us from such things. For the true Christian, Colossians 2:13–15 declares our victory:
And when you were dead in your wrongdoings and the uncircumcision of your flesh, He made you alive together with Him, having forgiven us all our wrongdoings, having canceled the certificate of debt consisting of decrees against us, which was hostile to us; and He has taken it out of the way, having nailed it to the cross. When He had disarmed the rulers and authorities, He made a public display of them, having triumphed over them through Him. (Col. 2:13-15)
 
If you are in Christ, your victory and freedom are found in the Lamb who reigns as the Lion of Judah. Jesus is the true and better Mediator who stands in your place. Jesus is the true and better Deliverer who leads His people out of bondage. The true Son of God is your salvation—before whom every ruler and demon, all who are rich and poor, those who are known and unknown will one day bow.  And on that Day, may Revelation 12:10–11 be said of you:
Then I heard a loud voice in heaven, saying, “Now the salvation, and the power, and the kingdom of our God and the authority of His Christ have come, for the accuser of our brothers and sisters has been thrown down, the one who accuses them before our God day and night. And they overcame him because of the blood of the Lamb and because of the word of their testimony, and they did not love their life even when faced with death. (Rev. 12:10-11)
 
      [1] “And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing, in whose case the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelieving so that they will not see the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God.” (2 Cor. 4:3-4)
      [2] “No, but I say that things which the Gentiles sacrifice, they sacrifice to demons and not to God; and I do not want you to become partners with demons. You cannot drink the cup of the Lord and the cup of demons; you cannot partake of the table of the Lord and the table of demons. Or do we provoke the Lord to jealousy? We are not stronger than He, are we?” (1 Cor. 10:20-22)

Judah and the Neglected Wife

The story of God’s people is best described as dysfunctional. From Adam and Eve to Noah’s family, from Abraham to Isaac and Jacob, each generation reveals broken relationships and deep moral failure. The way the patriarchs treated their wives, the way their wives treated them, and the way their children behaved all display humanity’s constant struggle with sin.
 
Last week we looked at Jacob’s life and the painful dynamics of his two marriages. Deceived into marrying Leah while his heart belonged to Rachel, Jacob loved one wife and merely endured the other. Leah was the unloved wife, while Rachel was beautiful and favored.
 
Between his two wives, Jacob fathered seven children with Leah (six sons and one daughter) and two with Rachel—Joseph and Benjamin. Both wives also gave their maidservants to Jacob, through whom he fathered four more sons, bringing the total to twelve. Out of all of them, Jacob’s love for Joseph was unmistakable, and his favoritism fueled jealousy and hatred in his other sons.
 
Before he ever met Rachel, however, God had already spoken a promise to him in a dream: “I am the LORD, the God of your father Abraham and the God of Isaac; the land on which you lie I will give to you and to your descendants. Your descendants will be like the dust of the earth… and in you and in your descendants shall all the families of the earth be blessed. Behold, I am with you and will keep you wherever you go… for I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you” (Gen. 28:13–15).
 
Jacob worked many years for Laban to marry Rachel, and nearly fifteen years passed before Joseph was born. Around six years later, Jacob wrestled all night with a “man” he later realized was God, who said, “Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel; for you have contended with God and with men, and have prevailed” (Gen. 32:28). Soon after, Rachel gave birth to Benjamin, though she tragically died in childbirth (Gen. 35:16–21).
 
One of Israel’s greatest flaws was his failure as a father. Because Joseph was Rachel’s firstborn—the son of his old age—Jacob loved him more than all his other sons. “Now Israel loved Joseph more than all his other sons, because he was the son of his old age; and he made him a multicolored tunic. And his brothers saw that their father loved him more… so they hated him and could not speak to him on friendly terms” (Gen. 37:3–4). Their jealousy soon grew into hatred (see Gen. 37:5–8).
That hatred turned to violence. The brothers conspired to kill Joseph, but Reuben persuaded them not to shed blood. Instead, they threw him into a pit, and while Reuben was away, Judah convinced them to sell Joseph to passing Ishmaelites (Gen. 37:18ff.). Believing him gone forever, they deceived their father: “They took Joseph’s tunic, slaughtered a male goat, and dipped the tunic in the blood… ‘We found this; please examine it to see whether it is your son’s tunic or not.’ Then he examined it and said, ‘It is my son’s tunic. A vicious animal has devoured him; Joseph has surely been torn to pieces!’” (Gen. 37:31–33).  Jacob tore his clothes, put on sackcloth, and mourned for his son many days, refusing to be comforted. Meanwhile, “the Midianites sold him in Egypt to Potiphar, Pharaoh’s officer, the captain of the bodyguard” (Gen. 37:36).
 
It is in the aftermath of this dark moment—Joseph sold and Jacob deceived—that Scripture turns our attention to Judah. In Genesis 38, we are given a window into the moral and spiritual condition of the man through whom the Messiah would one day come.
 
Sin Without Repentance Leads to Ruin (vv. 1-11)
Throughout the Old Testament, God warned His people not to adopt the ways of the Canaanites, lest they turn from Him. “You shall not intermarry with them; you shall not give your daughters to their sons, nor shall you take their daughters for your sons” (Deut. 7:2–3). Yet Judah did what God forbade. “Judah departed from his brothers and visited a certain Adullamite, whose name was Hirah. Judah saw there a daughter of a Canaanite whose name was Shua; and he took her as a wife and had relations with her” (vv. 1–2). Together they had three sons: Er, Onan, and Shelah (vv. 3–5).
 
Judah’s moral decline continued when he chose a Canaanite wife for his firstborn, Tamar. Their marriage ended tragically: “But Er, Judah’s firstborn, was evil in the sight of the LORD, so the LORD took his life” (vv. 6–7). Following custom, Judah told his second son, Onan, “Have relations with your brother’s wife and perform your duty as a brother-in-law to her, and raise up a child for your brother.” But Onan refused; “when he had relations with his brother’s wife, he wasted his seed on the ground so that he would not give a child to his brother” (vv. 8–9). Because of this, “what he did was displeasing in the sight of the LORD; so He put him to death also” (v. 10).
 
In those days, a woman’s security depended on her husband and sons. A widow without children had no protection or inheritance—the deceased man’s property passed to other male relatives. The practice of Levirate marriage was designed to protect such widows: “When brothers live together, and one of them dies and has no son, the wife of the deceased shall not be married outside the family to a strange man… the firstborn to whom she gives birth shall assume the name of his father’s deceased brother, so that his name will not be wiped out from Israel” (Deut. 25:5–6).
 
After Onan’s death, Judah promised Tamar she could marry his youngest son, Shelah, once he was grown. But fearing he might lose him too, Judah had no intention of keeping his word. Thinking only of his own household and not Tamar’s future, he sent her away to her father’s house—leaving her abandoned to widowhood and shame.
 
Desperation Without Faith Leads to Deception (vv. 12-23)
“Now after a considerable time…” — we are not told exactly how long Tamar waited after Judah sent her away, but by the time we come to verse 12, Judah’s youngest son was grown, and there was still no word from his father. It became clear that Judah had no intention of keeping his promise or fulfilling his duty to care for his daughter-in-law. Judah wanted to forget Tamar existed.
 
After Judah’s wife died, Tamar learned that he was going to Timnah to shear his sheep. Knowing Judah’s character, she devised a desperate plan: “She removed her widow’s garments and covered herself with a veil, and wrapped herself, and sat in the gateway of Enaim” (v. 14). Tamar disguised herself as a prostitute, knowing her father-in-law’s moral flaws, hoping to secure the child and security she had been denied. When Judah saw her, “...he assumed she was a prostitute, for she had covered her face. So he turned aside to her by the road, and said, “Here now, let me have relations with you’; for he did not know that she was his daughter-in-law. And she said, ‘What will you give me, that you may have relations with me?’” (vv. 15–16).
 
When Tamar asked, “What will you give me?” He promised a young goat in exchange for sex, but Tamar, knowing that he was not a man of his word, demanded a pledge—his seal, cord, and staff—each a personal identifier (v. 18). If her plan worked, these would prove Judah’s guilt. Even more disturbing is that Judah believed her to be a “cult prostitute,” revealing just how far removed he was spiritually from Abraham, Isaac, and his father Israel.
 
To be clear, Tamar is no saint either. She used deception and sexual sin to gain what was she believed was rightfully hers. Yet Judah fares no better: he pursued his passions, disregarded God’s covenant, and failed in every moral responsibility as father and leader. The descendants of Abraham were called to pursue justice, truth, and righteousness—virtues Judah utterly lacked.
 
Grace Without Limit Leads to Redemption (vv. 24-30)
Three months later, Judah learned that Tamar was pregnant: “Your daughter-in-law Tamar has prostituted herself, and behold, she is also pregnant by prostitution.” (v. 24). His response exposed his hypocrisy: “Bring her out, and have her burned.” The man who ignored Tamar’s suffering now demanded her death and the death of her unborn child, hiding his own sin behind false righteousness.
 
But as she was being brought out, Tamar sent Judah his own pledge with the message, “It was while she was being brought out that she sent word to her father-in-law, saying, ‘I am pregnant by the man to whom these things belong.’ She also said, ‘Please examine and see, whose signet ring and cords and staff are these?’” (v. 25). The Hebrew word for “examine” means to recognize or discern—it is as if Tamar were saying, “Look at yourself; see your own sin.”
 
Then comes Judah’s turning point: “And Judah recognized them and said, ‘She is more righteous than I.’” (v. 26). The one who held the power to condemn her, instead declared her righteous. In that moment, Judah encountered both conviction and grace—the same kind of divine confrontation experienced by Abraham on Mount Moriah when he laid his son Isaac on the altar and Jacob at Peniel when he wrestled with God. Though Judah was deeply flawed, his confession points forward to the need of a greater righteousness—one found only in the coming Son of Judah, whose righteousness is perfect in every way.
 
Afterward we read, “…he did not have relations with her again.” This brief note signals repentance and transformation. By Genesis 44, we see a changed man—no longer self-serving but self-sacrificing, willing to give his life for his brother’s freedom. Through the tangled sins of Judah and Tamar, God’s grace “broke through,” preserving the line that would one day bring forth the Redeemer Himself.  Tamar was not only pregnant with one child, but pregnant with twins!
 
When the day came that Judah’s two sons were born, they not only served to replace the two sons he lost to death, but they served as a way for redemption:
It came about at the time she was giving birth, that behold, there were twins in her womb. Moreover, it took place while she was giving birth, that one baby put out a hand, and the midwife took and tied a scarlet thread on his hand, saying, “This one came out first.” But it came about as he drew back his hand that behold, his brother came out. Then she said, “What a breach you have made for yourself!” So he was named Perez. Afterward his brother came out who had the scarlet thread on his hand; and he was named Zerah. (Genesis 38:27–30)
 
The name “Perez” means “breaking through.”  This is how the grace and mercy of God invaded the lives of both Judah and Tamar: It broke through into their hearts and lives in such a way it changed them forever.  The grace and mercy of God “broke through” into Tamar’s life with the redemption of what she lost as a widow through the birth of her first born.  The grace and mercy of God “broke through” into Judah’s life by forcing him to see his heart for what it was and compelling him to repent and become a new man. 
 
The Lion of Judah and the Triumph of Grace (Conclusion)
About 20 years or so after what happened between Judah and Tamar, we come to another scene where a great famine brought Judah and his brothers before a powerful Joseph who God had elevated second to Pharaoh for such a time as this, to shelter, protect, and preserve the 12 tribes of Israel (see Gen. 42-47)!
Joseph’s brothers stood before him not knowing that it was their younger brother, the one they sold into slavery that was before them while Israel and his youngest and now favored son, Benjamin was back in the famine-stricken land of Canaan. Through a series of events, Joseph tested his brothers to see if they had changed, so he had them go back to Canaan to bring Benjamin back with them to prove that they did not kill the youngest brother like they had intended to kill Joseph. 
 
When Benjamin arrives in Egypt, Joseph threatened to keep the son who was loved by their father, accusing him of taking what did not belong to him. Unknown to all the brothers, Joseph had a silver cup put in Benjamin’s sack to make it appear that he committed a crime.  It appeared to Judah and his brothers that Benjamin was guilty and that Joseph was justified in keeping Benjamin.
 
It is at this point in the story that Judah stood up to offer himself as a substitute to rescue the son who was loved by his father (see 44:1ff)!  Judah, now a changed man, who was completely innocent of the crime Benjamin was accused of, offered himself up in Benjamin’s place to rescue the son whom his father loves.  Upon hearing Judah’s sacrificial offer, Joseph revealed himself to his brothers and they were reconciled to the brother they once sought to kill. 
 
After Israel was brought to Egypt to be with his sons, he pronounced a blessing upon each of the sons.  The blessing that was pronounced upon Judah, the son of the ugly wife, was to become the son of preeminence:
“Judah is a lion’s cub;From the prey, my son, you have gone up.He crouches, he lies down as a lion,And as a lion, who dares to stir him up?
 
The scepter will not depart from Judah,Nor the ruler’s staff from between his feet,Until Shiloh comes;And to Him shall be the obedience of the peoples.” (Gen. 49:9-10)
 
Judah could not have understood all that God was doing in and through his life, but through the ugliness of sin and the actions of both Judah and Tamar, God brought forth a son of promise! From Perez, the son of Judah and Tamar, would come Boaz, and out of Boaz would come King David, and out of David would come Jesus who would become the substitute for a sinful people in the darkest night of sin!
 
There is a story similar to Judah and Tamar’s story. Only the prophet Hosea was told to marry a promiscuous woman by the name of Gomer, and the Lord God said to his prophet Hosea, “Go, take for yourself a wife inclined to infidelity, and children of infidelity; for the land commits flagrant infidelity, abandoning the Lord.”  Hosea obeyed the Lord, and it was not long before Gomer, the wife of Hosea, prostituted herself into slavery. In Hosea 3:1-3 we learn that God told Hosea to purchase (redeem) Gomer and to clothe her in white and to love her, and this is what Hosea said to his wife: “You shall live with me for many days. You shall not play the prostitute, nor shall you have another man; so I will also be toward you” (Hos. 3:3).
 
The apostle Peter borrowed language from Hosea’s story and applied it to our story, the story of Christ’s church: “But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a Holy nation, a people for God’s own possession, so that you may proclaim the excellencies of Him who has called you out of darkness into His marvelous light; for you once were not a people, but now you are the people of God; you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy” (1 Pet. 2:9-10).
 
Brothers and sisters, there is a true and better Judah who was born of a virgin, lived a sinless life in our place, died for our sins as our substitute, and rose from the grave! He is the One we read about in Revelation 5: “Behold, the Lion that is from the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has overcome...” (v. 5).  He is also the Lamb who became our sin, in our place, of whom all of heaven rejoices, “Worthy are You to take the scroll and to break its seals; for You were slaughtered, and You purchased people for God with Your blood from every tribe, language, people, and nation” (v. 9).

Jacob and the Ugly Wife

The Bible never hides the mess that happens when sinful people collide. It doesn’t take much to recognize that since Adam and Eve were promised a descendant who would crush the head of the serpent, the story of God’s people is one of dysfunction. All who make up Jesus’ family tree include broken and messy people.
 
When we come to Genesis 29, we meet Jacob—a deceiver—and Leah, the woman no one wanted. But their story began long before this moment. God had promised Abraham that through his descendants would come a child who would bless all nations. That promise passed to Isaac, and before his twins were born, God declared, “The older shall serve the younger” (Gen. 25:23).
 
Jacob deceived his aging father, stole his brother’s blessing, and fled for his life. Alone in the wilderness, with only a stone for a pillow, God met him in a dream. “I am the LORD, the God of Abraham and the God of Isaac. The land on which you lie I will give to you and to your offspring… and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed. Behold, I am with you and will keep you wherever you go” (Gen. 28:13–15).
 
God didn’t appear to Jacob because he finally got his act together—He showed up in Jacob’s mess. That’s the beauty of grace: God steps into our brokenness, keeps His promises, and accomplishes His plan through imperfect people. Later, God gave him the name Israel, but for the purpose of this sermon, we will continue to refer to him as Jacob (Gen. 35:9-21).
 
Outside of Eden We Want Rachel (Gen. 29:1-20)
When Laban heard his nephew had arrived, he “ran to meet him, and embraced him and kissed him, and brought him to his house” (Gen. 29:13). Jacob stayed with his uncle for a month, and during that time he fell in love with Laban’s younger daughter, Rachel (v. 18).
 
Why did Jacob love Rachel? The text tells us: “Now Laban had two daughters; the name of the older was Leah, and the name of the younger was Rachel. And Leah’s eyes were weak, but Rachel was beautiful in figure and appearance” (vv. 16–17).
 
We’re not told exactly what it means that Leah’s eyes were “weak.” Some think she was cross-eyed or simply lacked the beauty that her younger sister possessed. Whatever the case, the contrast is clear—Leah was plain, but Rachel was striking. Even their names hint at the difference: Leah may mean “wild cow” or “gazelle,” while Rachel means “ewe” or “lamb”—a softer, more affectionate name. Rachel was beautiful, and Jacob was captivated.
 
When Laban offered to pay Jacob for his work, Jacob didn’t ask for wages—he offered seven years of labor for Rachel’s hand. Laban agreed. “So Jacob worked seven years to pay for Rachel. But his love for her was so strong that it seemed to him but a few days” (Gen. 29:20, NLT).
 
Rachel was the apple of his eye—the treasure of his heart. To Jacob, life with Rachel promised the happiness he had always longed for. And isn’t that what we all want? On this side of Eden, every heart searches for a “Rachel”—someone or something we believe will complete us. We might not call it Rachel, but we chase it in our stories, our dreams, and our longings. We don’t want Leah. We want Rachel.
 
If the Bible repeats something, we need to pay attention to it.  But, if the Bible repeats something three times, it elevates it to the superlative degree as something super important.  Three times we are told of Jacob’s love for Rachel:
“Now Jacob loved Rachel, so he said, ‘I will serve you seven years for your younger daughter Rachel.’” (Gen. 29:18)
 
“So Jacob served seven years for Rachel, and they seemed to him like only a few days because of his love for her.” (Gen. 29:20)
 
“So Jacob had relations with Rachel also, and indeed he loved Rachel more than Leah, and he served with Laban for another seven years.” (Gen. 29:30)
 
Guess how many times we are told that Jacob loved Leah.  Zero.  In fact, when it comes to love, here is what we are told: “Now the Lord saw that Leah was unloved, and He opened her womb, but Rachel was unable to have children” (v. 31).
 
Outside of Eden We Get Leah (Gen. 29:21-30)
After Jacob completed the seven years he had promised his uncle, he was ready to receive what his heart had longed for. “Then Jacob said to Laban, ‘Give me my wife, for my time is completed, that I may have relations with her.’ So Laban gathered all the people of the place and held a feast” (Gen. 29:21–22).
 
Finally, Jacob believed life was about to become sweet. The wedding celebration began, the food was served, and the wine flowed freely. When the bride was brought to him—veiled and under cover of night—Jacob, likely feeling content and confident, welcomed her. “Now in the evening he took his daughter Leah and brought her to him; and Jacob had relations with her.... So it came about in the morning that, behold, it was Leah!” (Gen. 29:23, 25a).
 
Morning light brought a brutal truth. The woman beside him was not Rachel—the love of his life—but Leah, the weak-eyed daughter whose very name meant “wild cow.” Jacob was furious. He had been deceived—just as he had once deceived his brother Esau. His dream of happiness, shattered. “And he said to Laban, ‘What is this that you have done to me? Was it not for Rachel that I served you? Why then have you deceived me?’” (v. 25).
 
But Laban, the master manipulator, calmly replied, “It is not the practice in our place to marry off the younger before the firstborn. Complete the week of this one, and we will give you the other also for the service which you shall serve with me for another seven years” (vv. 26–27).
 
Jacob was trapped—used for free labor once again. He was tricked into taking the daughter he hadn’t chosen, and bartered into another seven years for the one he loved. Unfortunately for Leah, she was stuck in the middle of all the drama.
 
Outside of Eden There is Still Hope
The marriage that Jacob was tricked into began with a week-long celebration. Laban insisted Jacob complete the festivities with Leah, giving enough time for her to become pregnant. Yet Jacob was eager for the days to end, and as soon as the week was over, he immediately married Rachel. Driven by the selfish motives of both Jacob and Laban, Leah found herself trapped—caught between their desires and loved by no one. Leah was rejected, while Rachel was cherished.
 
The striking irony in Leah’s story is that, while she was overlooked by everyone else, God loved her: “Now the Lord saw that Leah was unloved, and He opened her womb, but Rachel was unable to have children” (v. 31). Despite God’s blessings with each child, Leah’s deepest longing, which was for her husband’s love, remained out of reach. After every birth, Leah hoped that her husband would finally love her, yet that hope was continually unfulfilled. Consider how Leah responded after each of her first four child were born:
“Leah conceived and gave birth to a son, and named him Reuben, for she said, “Because the Lord has seen my affliction; surely now my husband will love me.’” (v. 32)
 
“Then she conceived again and gave birth to a son, and said, ‘Because the Lord has heard that I am unloved, He has therefore given me this son also.’ So she named him Simeon.” (v. 33)
 
“And she conceived again and gave birth to a son, and said, ‘Now this time my husband will become attached to me, because I have borne him three sons.’ Therefore he was named Levi.” (v. 34)
 
“And she conceived again and gave birth to a son, and said, ‘This time I will praise the Lord.’ Therefore she named him Judah. Then she stopped having children.” (v. 35)
 
I wish Leah’s story ended with her praising the LORD, but it didn’t. She continued to seek Jacob’s affection by giving him what Rachel could not—children.
 
Just as Sarah gave Hagar to Abraham, Rachel followed the same pattern when she could not conceive, unwilling to trust God’s timing. What followed was a rivalry between Leah and Rachel, each striving to win Jacob’s love by giving him more sons. Both even gave their servants to Jacob, and through them, four more sons were born.
 
In time, God blessed Leah with two additional sons and a daughter, yet her longing for her husband’s love was never fulfilled (see Gen. 30:19–21). Rachel, meanwhile, bore only two sons—Joseph and, finally, Benjamin, the only son Jacob named.
“Then they journeyed on from Bethel; but when there was still some distance to go to Ephrath, Rachel began to give birth and she suffered severe difficulties in her labor. And when she was suffering severe difficulties in her labor, the midwife said to her, ‘Do not fear, for you have another son!’ And it came about, as her soul was departing (for she died), that she named him Ben-oni; but his father called him Benjamin” (Gen. 35:16–18).
 
Application
The irony in Leah’s story is striking: although she was overlooked by her father, unloved by her husband, and scorned by her younger sister, she was shown favor by God. Leah became the mother of seven children, including Levi and Judah. Through Levi, the priestly lineage was established, and through Judah, the royal line was formed—a line that ultimately led to the birth of Jesus Christ!
 
The promise God made to Adam and Eve, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob... was Leah’s promise. Listen to the prophetic blessing pronounced upon Judah by Jacob in Genesis 49:8-10,
As for you, Judah, your brothers shall praise you;your hand shall be on the neck of your enemies;your father’s sons shall bow down to you.
Judah is a lion’s cub;from the prey, my son, you have gone up.He crouches, he lies down as a lion,and as a lion, who dares to stir him up?
The scepter will not depart from Judah,nor the ruler’s staff from between his feet,until Shiloh comes;and to him shall be the obedience of the peoples.
The ugly wife was loved by God! Leah couldn’t have seen it then, but the beauty God would bring through her lineage is staggering. Her name may mean weary, exhausted, gazelle, or even wild cow—yet through her would come the Deliverer promised to Adam and Eve, to Noah, to Abraham and Sarah, to Isaac, and now to Jacob. She was the wife no one loved or treasured, except God Himself.
 
From Leah’s sons came the tribe of Levi, the tribe set apart to oversee the worship and sacrificial life of Israel. From the Levites, God appointed the High Priest, chosen from Aaron’s line, to mediate between God and His people. Upon his chest he wore a sacred breastplate adorned with twelve precious stones, each set in gold and engraved with the name of one of Israel’s tribes. The first stone, sardius—a deep red ruby—represented Reuben, whose name means “Behold, a son!” The last stone, jasper, represented Benjamin, meaning “son of my right hand.”
 
Leah’s legacy was not measured by Jacob’s affection but by God’s covenantal love. Through the unloved wife, God brought forth the priesthood that pointed to the Great High Priest—Jesus Christ.
 
Conclusion
Now, permit me to show you something from Revelation 4-5.  In Revelation 4, John is invited to see the heavenly throne room of God.  Notice what it is that John sees:
After these things I looked, and behold, a door standing open in heaven, and the first voice which I had heard, like the sound of a trumpet speaking with me, said, “Come up here, and I will show you what must take place after these things.” Immediately I was in the Spirit; and behold, a throne was standing in heaven, and someone was sitting on the throne. And He who was sitting was like a jasper stone and a sardius in appearance; and there was a rainbow around the throne, like an emerald in appearance.
 
John is ushered into heaven’s throne room, and what captures his attention is that the One seated on the throne radiates with the colors of jasper and sardius—the first and last stones on the High Priest’s breastplate. This is not accidental imagery. It is intentional revelation. What shines from the throne is He who is the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. When you pair the meanings of those names— “Behold, a Son” and “Son of My right hand”—you hear the gospel proclaimed from the very throne of God.
 
Who is this Son at the right hand of the Father? Revelation 1:17–18 gives the answer: “Do not be afraid; I am the first and the last, and the living One; and I was dead, and behold, I am alive forevermore, and I have the keys of death and Hades.” The One radiant like sardius and jasper is none other than Jesus Christ. And how do we know He sits at the right hand of the Father? Because Paul— who himself was from the tribe represented by the jasper stone—declares in Romans 8:31–34: “What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who is against us? He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him over for us all, how will He not also with Him freely give us all things? Who will bring charges against God’s elect? God is the one who justifies; who is the one who condemns? Christ Jesus is He who died, but rather, was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who also intercedes for us.” This is the One who is worthy to open the scroll in the Father’s hand.
 
Revelation 5:5 tells us, “...behold, the Lion that is from the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has overcome so as to be able to open the scroll and its seven seals.” The elder tells John to look at the Lion of Judah. But when John turns, he doesn’t see a lion. He sees a Lamb. “A Lamb standing, as if slaughtered...” (Rev. 5:6). Jacob chased after a beautiful woman whose name meant “sheep,” but through Leah—the unloved, weary wife—would come the Lamb of God. The Lamb who stands before the throne as the triumphant Redeemer. And all of heaven erupts in worship: “Worthy is the Lamb that was slaughtered to receive power, wealth, wisdom, might, honor, glory, and blessing” (Rev. 5:12).
 
What is the point of Leah’s story? God redeems what is ugly, weary, and rejected. He takes what the world despises and uses it to accomplish His glorious plan of redemption. This is why the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders sing a new song to Leah’s descendant: “Worthy are You to take the scroll and to break its seals; for You were slaughtered, and You purchased people for God with Your blood from every tribe, language, people, and nation” (Rev. 5:9).
 
And here is where the story turns deeply personal. We are Leah. We are the unlovely bride. We are the weary, broken, and undeserving. But instead of being repulsed by us, Jesus loves us. He makes us His Bride. Paul writes, “For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom. 8:38–39).
 
Leah’s story ends not in sorrow, but in the songs of heaven. The woman who was unloved became the vessel through whom the Lamb of God would come. The tribe she bore would point to the Great High Priest, and the Son of her body’s lineage would one day stand at the right hand of the Father. “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain.” That is our story too. If you belong to Christ, then your shame, your weariness, and your rejection are not the end of the story. The throne is. The Lamb is. His love is.

Abraham and the Only Son

A man named Jack accidentally fell off the edge of a steep cliff. On the way down he was able to grab ahold of a branch, which temporarily stopped his fall. He looked down and to his horror discovered that there were hundreds of feet between him and the bottom of the canyon. He couldn’t hang onto the branch forever, and there was no way for him to climb up the steep wall of the cliff.  So Jack began yelling for help, hoping that someone passing by would hear him. “HELP! HELP! Is anyone up there? “HELP!” He yelled for a long time, but no one heard him. He was about to give up when he heard a voice.
“Jack, Jack. Can you hear me?”
“Yes, yes! I can hear you. I’m down here!”
“I can see you, Jack. Are you all right?”
“Yes, but who are you, and where are you?
“I am the Lord, Jack. I’m everywhere.”
“The Lord? You mean, GOD?”
“That’s Me.”
“God, please help me! I promise if, you’ll get me down from here, I’ll stop sinning. I’ll be a really good person. I’ll serve You for the rest of my life.”
“Easy on the promises, Jack. Let’s get you off from there, then we can talk.”
“Now, here’s what I want you to do. Listen carefully.”
“I’ll do anything, Lord. Just tell me what to do.”
“Okay. Let go of the branch.”
“What?”
“I said, let go of the branch.” Just trust Me. Let go.”
There was a long silence.
Finally Jack yelled, “HELP! HELP! IS ANYONE ELSE UP THERE?”
 
What is faith?  Here is the way the Bible defines it: “Faith is the assurance of what we hope for and the certainty of what we do not see” (Heb. 11:1; BSB).  Abraham became known for that kind of faith, but it took a lifetime for him to get to the place of utter dependance upon God.  I am not sure what Abraham’s hopes and dreams were before he met God, but his home was in the City of Ur where Nanna, the Mesopotamian Moon god, was worshiped and his wife and family lived.  Although childless, Abraham was prosperous, settled, and old.  What he may or may not have known was that he was a descendant of Noah – ten generations removed.
 
When Abraham first heard God's calling, he was seventy-five years old, and his wife Sarah was sixty-five (see Gen. 12:4; 17:17). Despite their advanced age and the fact that they had no children, God gave Abraham a remarkable promise: “I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and him who dishonors you I will curse, and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed” (Gen. 12:1-3). This was a profound and hopeful message, especially considering that Abraham’s birth name was Abram, meaning “Exalted Father”—a title that must have felt ironic for a man with no children at seventy-five, and a wife (Sarai) ten years his junior. The name Abram brings to mind other individuals who have been given ironic or unfortunate names, such as the character mentioned in the following well-known song lyric:
Well, my daddy left home when I was threeDidn't leave very much to my mom and meExcept this old guitar and an empty bottle of boozeNow I don't blame him 'cause he run and hidBut the meanest thing that my daddy ever didWas before he left, he went and named me Sue[1]
 
God made three foundational promises to Abraham: first, He pledged to give him a land of his own; second, He vowed that Abraham would become the father of a vast multitude of descendants; and third, He assured that all nations would be blessed through him, signifying God’s plan of redemption. Trusting in these promises, Abraham left his home in Ur and journeyed to the land that God would reveal to him.
 
The Promise (Gen. 17:1-9)
Before we get to Genesis 17, I need to help you appreciate what Abraham (still Abram) was feeling and experiencing.  When we come to Genesis 15, Abraham and Sarah are still childless about 10 years after they were promised a child!  Abraham followed God out of obedience and brought his wife with him on the basis of a promise made by God that included many descendants, land, and a legacy that would bless multitudes in the future! At 85ish years old, God reassured Abraham (Abram), but what God’s reassurance was is up for debate based on the different ways Genesis 15:1 can be translated. Consider the ways NASB and the NKJV translated this verse:
“Do not fear, Abram, I am a shield to you; Your reward shall be very great.”” (NASB2020)
 
“Do not be afraid, Abram. I am your shield, your exceedingly great reward.” (NKJV)
 
So what is it?  Based on God’s promise in Genesis 13:1-3 and how He will reiterate the promise later in Genesis 15, I think it is both.  Here is one way you could paraphrase this verse: “Because I am your reward, your reward will be great.”
Abraham was about ready to give up on believing the promise include a biological son, but then God swore on behalf of His own name that He would honor the promise He made to Abram and Sarah.  God then entered into what is called a unilateral covenant of which He was obligated to honor that was not conditioned on anything that Abram did or did not do.  God swore to Abraham (Abram), “One who will come from your own body will be your heir” (15:4b).  What was Abraham’s response? We are told in Genesis 15: “Then he believed in the Lord; and He credited it to him as righteousness.”  Then about a year later, Sarah (still Sarai) developed a plan for her husband to get her maid, Hagar, pregnant; to have the heir God promised through her.  After all, God said the promised heir would come from Abraham a year ago but did not seem to mention Sarai! So again, the forces of darkness were at work to prevent the Descendent promised to Adam and Eve, who would crush the head of the serpent from ever being born.[2] 
 
Hagar did get pregnant with Abraham’s child, but all that did was bring more dysfunction into Abraham’s home, among other problems. Abraham (still Abram) was 86 and Sarah (still Sarai) 76, with no child to show for the promise God made long ago. 
 
Now we come to the promise made yet again in Genesis 17, but this time it is 24 years since the couple left Ur and 13 years since the whole mess they create with Hagar and the birth of Ishmael. Before I go any further, let that settle in your heart and mind for a moment.  For 24 years Abraham and Sarah waited, longed, hoped for the son that Almighty God promised them.  Then 13 years later while Ishmael had reached the age of maturity and Abram resigned that there would be no heir by Ishmael, God appeared to Abraham (still Abram) and spoke yet again: “I am God Almighty; Walk before Me, and be blameless. I will make My covenant between Me and you, and I will multiply you exceedingly” (17:1-2).  It is in this moment that God gave Abram the name Abraham which means “father of a multitude.” 
 
The blessing would not come through Ishmael, but through another son.  So that there would be no room for confusion, God said to Abraham: “As for your wife Sarai, you shall not call her by the name Sarai, but Sarah shall be her name. I will bless her, and indeed I will give you a son by her. Then I will bless her, and she shall be a mother of nations; kings of peoples will come from her” (17:15–16).  Abraham’s response is understandable: “Then Abraham fell on his face and laughed, and said in his heart, ‘Will a child be born to a man a hundred years old? And will Sarah, who is ninety years old, give birth to a child?’” (v. 17).  Nearly one year later, when Abraham was 100 years old and Sarah was 90 years old, she gave birth to Isaac, the son of promise (Gen. 21:1-8). 
 
The promise made to Adam and Eve, to Noah, and to Abraham would now come through Isaac.  A promise that included land, descendants (a great multitude), and the blessing of the nations.  Abraham received the promise when he was 75 and his wife past menopause which means to have a child together would have been a miracle at their respective ages, but for 90-year-old Sarah to carry the child of her 100-year-old husband was impossible!  And that is the point, isn’t it?  There was nothing that Abraham or Sarah could do to make God’s promise possible, they could not make it happen sooner, they could not adjust God’s timing, all that they could do is trust and wait for God to do only what He could in His own timing.  Their part in God’s promise was to trust, obey, and wait. 
 
The Promise of a Better Son (Gen. 22)
We are not told how many years it was after Isaac’s birth, but when we come to Genesis 22 we are told that God spoke to Abraham and said some of the most horrific words Abraham would ever hear: “Then He said, “Take now your son, your only son, whom you love, Isaac, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains of which I will tell you” (Gen. 22:2). Things were different this time; Abraham was different this time, for he had known God for many years since he was first called out of his homeland.  The Bible tells us that that Abraham, “...got up early in the morning and saddled his donkey, and took two of his young men with him and his son Isaac; and he split wood for the burnt offering, and set out and went to the place of which God had told him” (v. 3).
 
There were no arguments, no debate, no protest… Abraham simply obeyed because He believed if he followed through with the sacrifice of his own son; God was big enough to raise him up from death to life.  This is why when Abraham took Isaac up the mountain, he told the young men he brought with him: “Then Abraham said to his young men, “Stay here with the donkey, and I and the boy will go over there; and we will worship and return to you” (v. 5).
 
Although the exact number of years between Isaac’s birth and God’s command for Abraham to sacrifice his son is not specified in the text, we can make a reasonable estimate based on several clues about Isaac’s age. First, Isaac was old enough to walk alongside his father for the entire three-day journey while Abraham, advanced in years, rode a donkey. Second, Isaac had the strength to carry the wood for the burnt offering up the rugged slope of Mount Moriah after days of travel. Third, Isaac was old enough to make a critical observation: “Isaac spoke to his father Abraham and said, ‘My father!’ And he said, ‘Here I am, my son.’ And he said, ‘Look, the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?’” (v. 7). These details suggest that Isaac was not a small child; my guess is that he was at least 13 years old.
 
There is something else you should be aware of about Abraham and Isaac’s journey and what was said to the young men just before Abraham and Isaac made their way up Mt. Moriah:
The journey would take 3 days to get to the place of Isaac’s sacrifice.
Most scholars believe that Mt. Moriah was the site where Jerusalem would eventually be built.
On the third day, Abraham said to the young men, “Stay here with the donkey, and I and the boy will go over there; and we will worship and return to you” (v. 5). In other words, Abraham believed that there would be a resurrection after he slaughtered his son... ON THE THIRD DAY!
 
So what happened?  Did Abraham follow through with what God commanded?  Abraham had seen too much to doubt God’s ability and character to do what He had promised.  God promised a child through whom would come a great multitude and the nations would be blessed.  Here is what happened:
Then they came to the place of which God had told him; and Abraham built the altar there and arranged the wood, and bound his son Isaac and laid him on the altar, on top of the wood. And Abraham reached out with his hand and took the knife to slaughter his son. But the angel of the Lord called to him from heaven and said, “Abraham, Abraham!” And he said, “Here I am.” He said, “Do not reach out your hand against the boy, and do not do anything to him; for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from Me.” Then Abraham raised his eyes and looked, and behold, behind him was a ram caught in the thicket by its horns; and Abraham went and took the ram and offered it up as a burnt offering in the place of his son.
 
Abraham would have followed through with killing his one and only son had God not stopped him because no longer did he put God in a box… He was too big for any boxes because now He knew His God.  What was God’s response?  He simply reiterated His covenant promise: “By Myself I have sworn, declares the Lord, because you have done this thing and have not withheld your son, your only son, indeed I will greatly bless you, and I will greatly multiply your seed as the stars of the heavens and as the sand, which is on the seashore; and your seed shall possess the gate of their enemies. And in your seed all the nations of the earth shall be blessed, because you have obeyed My voice” (Gen. 22:16-18).
 
Why did God command Abraham to sacrifice his son, and why did He refer to the child as, “your son, your only son, whom you love, Isaac” (v. 2)? The significance lies in the foreshadowing of a greater Son who would come from Isaac’s lineage—Jesus Christ, God’s own Son. In other words, Isaac’s story points forward to a future sacrifice on another mount known as Golgotha, God the Father would do what He prevented Abraham from doing: He would slaughter His only unique Son, whom He loved, for the sins of the multitudes to redeem a people for himself by the blood of the greater and more perfect Isaac!
 
While the "lesser Isaac" was confused and unsure of the purpose for the wood he carried, the "greater Isaac," Jesus Christ, carried a wooden cross fully aware of why He was doing it and with unwavering commitment to die in our place as the Lamb of God. Where God provided a ram to spare Isaac, Jesus willingly became our substitute, submitting to the Father's will and taking on the penalty for our sins. Isaac had to be bound before being placed on the altar, but Jesus embraced the cross freely, allowing sinful men to bound Him to the cross on our behalf. Oh dear brothers and sisters, Jesus Christ is the true and better Isaac of whom the Scriptures testify: “God made Him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Cor. 5:21).
 
[1] Johnny Cash, “A Boy Named Sue,” performed by Johnny Cash, written by Shel Silverstein, recorded at San Quentin State Prison, 24 Feb. 1969, released on At San Quentin, Columbia Records, 1969.
[2] “Now Sarai, Abram’s wife, had not borne him a child, but she had an Egyptian slave woman whose name was Hagar. So Sarai said to Abram, “See now, the Lord has prevented me from bearing children. Please have relations with my slave woman; perhaps I will obtain children through her.” And Abram listened to the voice of Sarai.” (Gen. 16:1–2)

Noah and the Promise of the Rainbow

From the Pulpit of Keith Miller
The story of Noah and the flood is not for little children.  The story of the flood is horrific, frightening, and tragic.  The flood is the justifiable holocaust of an entire generation with the exception of one solitary family.  Had any of the children that day survived the flood and been asked to draw on paper what they had experienced, I do not believe you would have seen anything close to what we see in our churches today like the image below:
 
Instead, what you would have seen is something like the pictures some of the children who survived the tsunami of 2004 that killed over 200,000 people drew to illustrate their experience:
 
After Cain murdered Abel and was driven away from his family to be a wanderer with his wife, we are told that the hearts of his descendants grew increasingly evil.  Cain’s great, great, great grandson Lamech was much more violent than Cain and became known for twisting the institution of marriage by taking two wives instead of one (see Gen. 4:24-24).
 
After Seth was born, we learn that people began to call upon the name of the God of Adam and Eve (4:26). Through Seth, another bloodline was started to counter the bloodline of Cain.  Cain’s line represents evil, while Seth’s line represents the line through which the promised Deliverer would come.  Cain’s line grew to be both secular and violent, while Seth’s line represented godliness in a world when calling upon the name of the Lord was rare and unpopular.  
 
The Wickedness on the Earth Became Great
Through Seth, God would fulfill the promise made to Adam and Eve, but there were dark powers that would seek and strive to keep the Descendant of Eve from ever being born!  It is to that part of the story we now turn our attention:
Now it came about, when mankind began to multiply on the face of the land, and daughters were born to them, that the sons of God saw that the daughters of mankind were beautiful; and they took wives for themselves, whomever they chose. Then the Lord said, “My Spirit will not remain with man forever, because he is also flesh; nevertheless his days shall be 120 years.” The Nephilim were on the earth in those days, and also afterward, when the sons of God came in to the daughters of mankind, and they bore children to them. Those were the mighty men who were of old, men of renown. (Gen. 6:1-4)
 
Three groups of people are named in Genesis 6:1-4.  There are the sons of God, the daughters of mankind, and the Nephilim.  There are also three main views that have served to explain who these three sets of people were, I will share the three ways theologians throughout the ages have understood who these people are in Genesis and then I will offer a fourth possible way of understanding these verses:
The “sons of God” represent the line of Seth, and the “daughters of men” represent the line of Cain. The intermingling of Seth’s descendants with Cain’s line blurred the distinction between those devoted to God and those who had turned away. This union led to a moral collapse that hastened humanity’s corruption and ultimately brought about God’s judgment through the flood.
 
One widely held perspective is that the “sons of God” (a phrase frequently referring to angels)[1] were fallen angels who took on human appearance and engaged in relationships with human women, referred to as the daughters of men. According to this interpretation, these unions resulted in the birth of the Nephilim—figures described as formidable, possibly giant warriors who were both feared and renowned. This view has been prominent throughout Jewish and Christian tradition.
 
Another interpretation suggests that the “sons of God” were regional kings who were exalted as divine figures by the people they governed. Much like Lamech, these rulers acted with unchecked authority, taking as many wives from among the “daughters of men” (ordinary women) as they desired, often practicing extensive polygamy. The offspring of these unions became influential princes, celebrated as “mighty men of old, men of renown.”
I used to hold to the first view, but have since rejected it, and I have always struggled with the second view for the simple fact that angels are spiritual beings (Heb. 1:14) who do not share our DNA and therefore make it impossible to impregnate human women.  However, I do believe that fallen angels (sons of God) possessed the “sons of god” (regional rulers/kings) who took the daughters of men as wives for themselves. The reason why I believe this is because of what Jude and Peter wrote about concerning Genesis 6:1-4.[2] 
 
According to Jude and Peter, what happened in Genesis 6 was a demonic overstepping so severe that they were judged immediately before the rest of the demons who will eventually be cast into the lake of fire. Let me share with you where I land on what is happening in Genesis 6:1-4 that seems to best fit the context and progression of sin from Cain to the flooding of the earth.
 
Here is the way I see it: By the time we get to Genesis 6, the culture of humankind has grown exceedingly promiscuous and violent.  Cain killed Abel. Lamech killed a man and a child and took two wives for himself, and then one generation later we are introduced to the “sons of god” taking the “daughters of men” to have children known as the Nephilim.   There was little regard for the sanctity of life and God’s design for sex within the sanctity of marriage between a man and a woman. When we come to Genesis 6, we are told, “The Lord saw that the wickedness of mankind was great on the earth, and that every intent of the thoughts of their hearts was only evil continually” (v. 5).
 
In light of what we know about the religious practices of the ancient East and that fallen angels are capable of demonic possession of humans (see Mark 5:1-20), It is possible that the sons of God (fallen angels) possessed regional kings who were so wicked that they welcomed the possession of demons they may have worshiped as gods (see Deut. 32:15-17; 1 Cor. 10:20).  It is possible that the regional kings, while under the influence of those fallen angels, took on a harem of women (the daughters of men).  The regional kings of Genesis 6 opened themselves up to being demonized, and that fallen angles used their bodies to further pervert the sanctity of marriage as an institution created and sanctioned by God. 
 
We will certainly see this when we get to the book of Revelation in January, but for now what you should know is that the institution of marriage was always designed to function as a portrait of Christ’s relationship to the Church; the apostle Paul goes as far as to state the original design of the institution of marriage in Genesis 1:26-28 and 2:18-25, “‘Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.’ This mystery is profound, and I am saying that it refers to Christ and the church. However, let each one of you love his wife as himself, and let the wife see that she respects her husband” (Eph. 5:31–33). It was because of the violence against the image of God and the perversion of the sanctity of marriage that we are told in the following verses:
Then the Lord saw that the wickedness of mankind was great on the earth, and that every intent of the thoughts of their hearts was only evil continually. So the Lord was sorry that He had made mankind on the earth, and He was grieved in His heart. Then the Lord said, “I will wipe out mankind whom I have created from the face of the land; mankind, and animals as well, and crawling things, and the birds of the sky. For I am sorry that I have made them.” (Gen. 6:5-7).
 
God’s Infinite Goodness Overcomes the Deepest Wickedness
It was only because the wickedness of Noah’s generation was so great, pervasive, and unrelenting that He chose to flood the earth.  Yet, even in the midst of great evil and wickedness, God chose to spare a man and his family to start over, and he did it through Noah’s family (v. 8).  So, God instructed Noah, “The end of humanity has come before Me; for the earth is filled with violence because of people; and behold, I am about to destroy them with the earth. Make for yourself an ark of gopher wood; you shall make the ark with compartments, and cover it inside and out with pitch” (Gen. 6:13-14). 
 
Only Noah, his family, and two of every animal according to their kind were spared, as God intended to begin anew through them (notice that God specified "kind," not "species"). To Noah, God declared, “But I will establish My covenant with you, and you shall enter the ark—you, your sons, your wife, and your sons’ wives with you. Of every living creature of all flesh, you shall bring two of every kind into the ark to keep them alive with you; they shall be male and female” (vv. 18-19). So, Noah and his family entered the ark, and then the floodwaters came, resulting in the destruction of thousands under the judgment of a holy God.
 
Although God could have rightly destroyed every living creature, He chose to spare Noah and his family. Through Noah, his family, and a chosen group of animals, protected in an ark made from wood, God demonstrated mercy. God then assured Noah with a promise: “Now behold, I Myself am establishing My covenant with you, and with your descendants after you.... I establish My covenant with you; and all flesh shall never again be eliminated by the waters of a flood, nor shall there again be a flood to destroy the earth” (vv. 8-9, 11).  What would be the sign of the covenant made with Noah?  Here is what God said: “This is the sign of the covenant which I am making between Me and you and every living creature that is with you, for all future generations; I have set My rainbow in the cloud, and it shall serve as a sign of a covenant between Me and the earth” (Gen. 9:12-13).
 
The rainbow stands as a powerful reminder—to us and to God—that He has set aside His warrior’s bow, placing it in the sky as a sign of peace. The flood cleansed the blood stained soil of the earth caused by the wickedness of humanity and washed away the rampant perversion that became a part of the culture. God’s promise to Adam and Eve that a deliverer would come—the hope they saw in Seth and his descendants—was kept through Noah, who remained righteous in a corrupt world. God overcame human wickedness with the flood, but in His goodness, He also provided a way for the coming of Christ.
 
Not long after Noah and his family were saved from the judgment of God, we are reminded that no flood can remedy the problem of the human heart.  In Genesis 9:20-29, we learn that Noah got drunk and passed out naked and his son Ham looked upon his father’s nakedness in a way that was shameful and disrespectful.  Ham was cursed to become a servant of the descendants of his older brothers, while Shem would carry on the bloodline that would eventually lead to the birth of Jesus Christ.
 
The sins of Adam, Cain, Lamech, Noah, and Ham are our struggles too. We all have a heart problem that only Christ can fix. The trees provided the gopher wood that saved Noah and his family from the flood of God’s wrath, and yet it was also a tree—the cross—where Jesus, the descendant of Adam, Seth, Noah, and Shem, was nailed to bear the curse we deserved. Although Noah was considered righteous in God’s sight, he still struggled with the same sin-problem that plagued every generation before him. In contrast, Jesus was perfectly righteous, as Scripture declares: “For Christ also suffered for sins once for all time, the just for the unjust, so that He might bring us to God…” (1 Peter 3:18a).
 
Conclusion
Please listen closely to what I am about to share. The rainbow, given by God as a sign of His covenant with Noah, was never meant to be used as a justification to redefine, distort, or undermine the institution of marriage or the sacredness of sex within the covenant of marriage between one man and one woman. God did not create the sun to shine and its light to form the beautiful arc of colors in the sky through rain, so that anyone might feel free to alter the biological nature with which they were created and choose an identity apart from His design.
 
The rainbow is a powerful reminder that God takes all sin seriously—including heterosexual sins such as sex before marriage and any form of sexual relations with anyone other than your spouse. It calls us to recognize that God’s standard for purity and faithfulness within marriage apply to everyone and serves as a visible sign of both His justice and His mercy.[3]   
 
The rainbow serves as a vivid reminder of God’s undeserved mercy, highlighting the justice that, by all rights, should fall upon us. When we see a rainbow stretched across the sky, it’s not a testament to our worthiness and rights, but instead displays God’s compassion that permits us to behold it. We must understand that, according to God’s perfect justice, we deserve not only death but eternal separation from Him. Yet, by His mercy alone, we are given the blessing of another day—not so we can pursue our own desires, but so we may be drawn to the cross where God’s Son was slaughtered for our sins.
 
Ultimately, it is only through the cross of Christ that we can be saved from God’s just wrath. Jesus alone is qualified and able to bear the judgment our sins deserve, offering us true hope and redemption.  The tree that Christ was cursed upon in our place is not permission to run to our sin, but the demand to run from our sin to the One who bore all of it, for our salvation from the floods of God’s wrath that we each deserve.Man
 
[1] The term “sons of God” refers to angels in several Old Testament passages, specifically in Job 1:6, 2:1, 38:7, and Psalms 29:1 and 89:6.
[2] Jude 6–7.  “And angels who did not keep their own domain but abandoned their proper dwelling place, these He has kept in eternal restraints under darkness for the judgment of the great day, 7 just as Sodom and Gomorrah and the cities around them, since they in the same way as these angels indulged in sexual perversion and went after strange flesh, are exhibited as an example in undergoing the punishment of eternal fire.”
 
2 Peter 2:4. “For if God did not spare angels when they sinned, but cast them into hell and committed them to pits of darkness, held for judgment...”
 
[3] “Marriage is to be held in honor among all, and the marriage bed is to be undefiled; for God will judge the sexually immoral and adulterers.” (Heb. 13:4)