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7 takeaways from this study
I am reminded that our journey — both as individuals and as part of the commonwealth of Israel — is one of returning, of coming home to the Creator of the heavens and the earth. This study, rooted in Exodus 4:21–23, Colossians 1–2, and 1John 1–2, invites us to reflect on what it means to be God’s “firstborn,” to experience true liberation, and to walk in the light of Messiah Yeshua (Jesus). Some have briefly fallen away from the path, some do not know where the path is, and some have deliberately left the path for another. Yet God calls all of humanity to leave the path of Satan and return to the path of Yeshua. As we walk through these passages together, let’s seek inspiration, challenge and encouragement for our own journeys.
Let’s begin in Exodus, where God speaks to Moshe (Moses) and calls Israel His “firstborn son” (בְּכוֹרִי bekhori). This is a powerful image — not just of privilege, but of purpose and responsibility.
“Then you shall say to Pharaoh, ‘Thus says the LORD, “Israel is My son, My firstborn. So I said to you, ‘Let My son go that he may serve Me’; but you have refused to let him go. Behold, I will kill your son, your firstborn.”’”
This passage sets the stage for the great drama of redemption. Israel’s physical bondage in Mitzraim (Egypt) is a picture of spiritual bondage — a theme that echoes throughout the תּוֹרָה Torah (generally, instruction or law; as a body of works, Genesis–Deuteronomy) and the נְבִיאִים Nevi’im (Prophets).
The book of Exodus gives us a picture of the stark difference between the Kingdom of Egypt and the Kingdom of God from the very beginning.
The people of Israel were a real people, truly in bondage and slavery, and in genuine need of liberation. This was not only an experience of physical liberation but also of spiritual liberation.
But notice: The call to “let My son go” is not just about freedom from something, but freedom for something — for service, for relationship, for worship. God’s deliverance is always purposeful.
As we read through Exodus, we see that the journey out of Egypt is not just a change of location, but a transformation of heart. Again and again, the people are tempted to look back, to romanticize their old chains.
How often do we do the same? We may leave behind old habits or beliefs, but the allure of “Egypt”—the comfort of the familiar, even if it’s bondage — can be strong.
The Torah reminds us that liberation is both physical and spiritual. פֶּסַח Pesach (Passover) is a memorial of both kinds of freedom. The blood of the lamb on the doorposts (Exodus 12) is a sign of God’s protection and mercy — a foreshadowing of Messiah’s sacrifice.
Throughout Scripture, we see a cosmic struggle between two kingdoms: the Kingdom of the LORD (מַלְכוּת יְהוָה Malkhut Adonai) and the kingdom of the Adversary (מַלְכוּת הַשָּׂטָן Malkhut haSatan).
The bondage of Satan can seem attractive for a time, and even after we are freed from it, we may look back with a false sense of nostalgia on the period of our lives when we did not have Yeshua. We forget how difficult our lives truly were and remember only the fleeting moments of pleasure.
Paul writes to the Colossians:
For He rescued us from the domain of darkness, and transferred us to the kingdom of His beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.
Paul gives us a wonderful calling to live in the fear of the Lord and to be filled with His guidance.
Just as drones are programmed to return to their home base when they lose their signal, become disoriented, or are damaged, we too are called to return home.
This is not just ancient history. It’s our story. Every day, we are called to choose which kingdom we will serve. The Adversary (שָּׂטָן Satan) seeks to lure us back into bondage, but Messiah offers true freedom.
What is the role of Torah for believers in Yeshua? Some point to passages like Colossians 2:14 (“having canceled out the certificate of debt contained in ordinances that was against us, He took them out of the way, having nailed it to the cross”) as evidence that the Torah is obsolete.
But let’s look closer. Paul was not dismissing God’s instructions; rather, he’s speaking of the record of our transgressions — our sins, not the Torah itself. As he writes elsewhere:
So then, the Law is holy, and the commandment is holy and righteous and good.
The Torah is our blueprint for living as God’s people. It teaches us how to love God (Deuteronomy 6:4–5, the Shema) and love our neighbor (Leviticus 19:18) — the very commandments Yeshua affirmed as the greatest and second-greatest, respectively (Matthew 22:37-40).
In Hebrew, the word for “law” is Torah, which means “instruction” or “teaching.” In Greek, the word often used is νόμος nomos. Both point to guidance, not just legalism.
Yokhanan’s first letter (1John) offers a beautiful picture of confession (תְּשׁוּבָה teshuvah: return or repentance) and forgiveness:
If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.
Confession is not about shame. It’s about honesty, healing and restoration. In the season of יוֹם כִּפּוּר Yom Kippur (Day of Atonement), we are reminded that God’s desire is to remove our חַטָּאוֹת khattot (sins), our פְּשָׁעִים pesha’im (transgressions) and our עֲוֹנוֹת avonot (iniquities) — and to remember them no more (Jeremiah 31:31–34, the New Covenant prophecy).
One of the most beautiful aspects of the Exodus is the “mixed multitude” (עֵרֶב רַב erev rav) that left Egypt with Israel (Exodus 12:38). God’s invitation is not limited by ethnicity or background. As Isaiah prophesied:
“Let not the foreigner who has joined himself to the LORD say, ‘The LORD will surely separate me from His people.’”
In Messiah, all are welcome — Jew and Gentile, native and sojourner. The call to “come home” is for the whole world.
Pesakh is a festival rich with paradox. The same God who sends the destroyer also provides the means of protection — the blood of the lamb. As we read in Exodus 12, it is the LORD who both judges and saves.
This points us to Messiah, the ultimate Passover Lamb (1Corinthians 5:7), whose blood covers us and delivers us from the wrath to come.
The prophets speak of a “greater Exodus” — a future redemption so profound that the first Exodus will pale in comparison (Jeremiah 16:14-15). Revelation echoes these themes, describing plagues, deliverance, and the ultimate defeat of the adversary (Revelation 12:9-11).
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.
Our hope is not just in past deliverance, but in the promise of a new heaven and a new earth, where God will dwell with His people (Revelation 21:1–4).
Apostle Yokhanan challenges us to walk as Yeshua walked — not just in belief, but in action.
By this we know that we have come to know Him, if we keep His commandments. The one who says, ‘I have come to know Him,’ and does not keep His commandments, is a liar, and the truth is not in him.
Obedience is not about earning God’s love, but about living in the reality of His kingdom. The Hebrew word for “commandment” is מִצְוָה mitzvah, which comes from a root meaning “to connect.” Every mitzvah is an opportunity to draw closer to God and to one another.
Yeshua taught that all the Torah and the Prophets hang on two commandments: love God and love your neighbor (Matthew 22:37-40). This is not a new teaching, but a renewal of what God has always desired.
“You shall love your neighbor as yourself; I am the LORD.”
In Greek, the word for love is ἀγάπη agape, a self-giving, sacrificial love. In Hebrew, it’s אַהֲבָה ahavah, derived from a verb for give. This is the love that transforms communities and changes the world.
The Torah alone is not enough; we need the Spirit (רוּחַ, ruach) to guide and empower us. At Shavuot (Pentecost), we celebrate both the giving of the Torah at Sinai and the outpouring of the Spirit in Jerusalem (Acts 2).
Paul reminds us:
For the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.
The Spirit writes the Torah on our hearts (Jeremiah 31:33), enabling us to live out God’s instructions with joy and authenticity.
The New Covenant (בְּרִית חֲדָשָׁה brit chadashah) is not about abolishing the Torah, but about internalizing it. As Jeremiah prophesied:
“I will put My law within them and on their heart I will write it; and I will be their God, and they shall be My people.”
Through Messiah, we have an Advocate (παράκλητος parakletos—helper, advocate) with the Father (1John 2:1). His atonement covers our sins and restores our relationship with God.
1John warns against hypocrisy — claiming to walk in the light while living in darkness. True fellowship requires transparency, humility, and a willingness to confess and turn (teshuvah).
In 1 John 1:1–2:2, the Apostle John writes to combat early heresies and affirm believers’ fellowship with God through Yeshua. He emphasizes that we must be pure and obedient to Yeshua in order to dwell in His kingdom.
As we prepare for the Fall feasts, we need to confess and face our sins. Many Scriptures provide examples of repentance, including Psalm 51:7, Hebrews 9:14, and Leviticus 16:30. The first step in all of this is humility.
Just as Abraham submitted himself to Melchizedek by giving offerings and receiving blessings, so we are called to submit ourselves to Yeshua—bringing Him our offerings and receiving His blessings. For it is always the greater who blesses the lesser, the elder who blesses the younger.
The blood of Yeshua, the ultimate se’ir L’Adonai (the goat for the LORD on Yom Kippur), cleanses believers from khatot, pesha’im, and avonot (1 John 2:2), enabling fellowship with God and preparing us for Malkhut Adonai. Confession and teshuvah align with Yom Kippur’s atonement, keeping believers in God’s light.
1 John 2:2 reminds us that only one can forgive all our sins, from the least to the greatest. In humility, John points us to Yeshua.
Regular confession and reliance on Yeshua’s atonement purify believers, enabling them to abide in Malkhut Adonai. Our return to God is possible only because of what Yeshua has done for us.
On Yom Kippur, there are two goats: one for Adonai and the other for Azazel. Both are essential for the removal of sin and the restoration of fellowship. This is entirely Heaven’s work.
As we prepare for Yom Kippur, let’s ask: Are we wearing masks, or are we allowing God’s light to shine through us? Are our צִיצִתות tzitzitot (tassels) anchored to something real, or are they just decoration?
We need to live in a continual cycle of confession and repentance. This keeps us humble and prevents us from being overly harsh or judgmental toward others. By keeping our eyes on God rather than on ourselves, we purify our lives.
Keeping Yeshua’s commandments reflects the Torah’s call to love God and neighbor, fulfilled in Yeshua’s life and sacrifice.
This obedience ensures believers remain in Malkhut Adonai, free from the darkness of malkhut haSatan (1 John 2:8–11). Obedience is not how we enter God’s kingdom, but it is how we remain in it. God is a God of order, not of chaos; disobedience brings chaos.
God’s commandments are simple. It is people who make them complicated for the sake of their own egos and power. This is why Yeshua often clashed with both the Pharisees and the Sadducees.
Our journey is not just from slavery to freedom, but from slavery to sonship. In Messiah, we are adopted as children of God (Romans 8:15-17), heirs of the promises given to Abraham.
For you are all sons of God through faith in Messiah Yeshua.
This identity calls us to live differently — to reflect God’s character, to pursue justice and mercy, and to invite others into the journey.
As we close, I invite you to reflect on your own journey. Where are you in the process of coming home? What chains are you ready to leave behind? How is God calling you to deeper trust, confession, and transformation?
The story of Exodus, the teachings of Paul, the letters of Yokhanan all point us to the same truth: God is faithful. His love is steadfast. And the invitation to return — to come home — is always open.
May we walk in the light, love with sincerity, and live as citizens of the Kingdom of God, anchored in His Word and empowered by His Spirit.
By Hallel Fellowship7 takeaways from this study
I am reminded that our journey — both as individuals and as part of the commonwealth of Israel — is one of returning, of coming home to the Creator of the heavens and the earth. This study, rooted in Exodus 4:21–23, Colossians 1–2, and 1John 1–2, invites us to reflect on what it means to be God’s “firstborn,” to experience true liberation, and to walk in the light of Messiah Yeshua (Jesus). Some have briefly fallen away from the path, some do not know where the path is, and some have deliberately left the path for another. Yet God calls all of humanity to leave the path of Satan and return to the path of Yeshua. As we walk through these passages together, let’s seek inspiration, challenge and encouragement for our own journeys.
Let’s begin in Exodus, where God speaks to Moshe (Moses) and calls Israel His “firstborn son” (בְּכוֹרִי bekhori). This is a powerful image — not just of privilege, but of purpose and responsibility.
“Then you shall say to Pharaoh, ‘Thus says the LORD, “Israel is My son, My firstborn. So I said to you, ‘Let My son go that he may serve Me’; but you have refused to let him go. Behold, I will kill your son, your firstborn.”’”
This passage sets the stage for the great drama of redemption. Israel’s physical bondage in Mitzraim (Egypt) is a picture of spiritual bondage — a theme that echoes throughout the תּוֹרָה Torah (generally, instruction or law; as a body of works, Genesis–Deuteronomy) and the נְבִיאִים Nevi’im (Prophets).
The book of Exodus gives us a picture of the stark difference between the Kingdom of Egypt and the Kingdom of God from the very beginning.
The people of Israel were a real people, truly in bondage and slavery, and in genuine need of liberation. This was not only an experience of physical liberation but also of spiritual liberation.
But notice: The call to “let My son go” is not just about freedom from something, but freedom for something — for service, for relationship, for worship. God’s deliverance is always purposeful.
As we read through Exodus, we see that the journey out of Egypt is not just a change of location, but a transformation of heart. Again and again, the people are tempted to look back, to romanticize their old chains.
How often do we do the same? We may leave behind old habits or beliefs, but the allure of “Egypt”—the comfort of the familiar, even if it’s bondage — can be strong.
The Torah reminds us that liberation is both physical and spiritual. פֶּסַח Pesach (Passover) is a memorial of both kinds of freedom. The blood of the lamb on the doorposts (Exodus 12) is a sign of God’s protection and mercy — a foreshadowing of Messiah’s sacrifice.
Throughout Scripture, we see a cosmic struggle between two kingdoms: the Kingdom of the LORD (מַלְכוּת יְהוָה Malkhut Adonai) and the kingdom of the Adversary (מַלְכוּת הַשָּׂטָן Malkhut haSatan).
The bondage of Satan can seem attractive for a time, and even after we are freed from it, we may look back with a false sense of nostalgia on the period of our lives when we did not have Yeshua. We forget how difficult our lives truly were and remember only the fleeting moments of pleasure.
Paul writes to the Colossians:
For He rescued us from the domain of darkness, and transferred us to the kingdom of His beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.
Paul gives us a wonderful calling to live in the fear of the Lord and to be filled with His guidance.
Just as drones are programmed to return to their home base when they lose their signal, become disoriented, or are damaged, we too are called to return home.
This is not just ancient history. It’s our story. Every day, we are called to choose which kingdom we will serve. The Adversary (שָּׂטָן Satan) seeks to lure us back into bondage, but Messiah offers true freedom.
What is the role of Torah for believers in Yeshua? Some point to passages like Colossians 2:14 (“having canceled out the certificate of debt contained in ordinances that was against us, He took them out of the way, having nailed it to the cross”) as evidence that the Torah is obsolete.
But let’s look closer. Paul was not dismissing God’s instructions; rather, he’s speaking of the record of our transgressions — our sins, not the Torah itself. As he writes elsewhere:
So then, the Law is holy, and the commandment is holy and righteous and good.
The Torah is our blueprint for living as God’s people. It teaches us how to love God (Deuteronomy 6:4–5, the Shema) and love our neighbor (Leviticus 19:18) — the very commandments Yeshua affirmed as the greatest and second-greatest, respectively (Matthew 22:37-40).
In Hebrew, the word for “law” is Torah, which means “instruction” or “teaching.” In Greek, the word often used is νόμος nomos. Both point to guidance, not just legalism.
Yokhanan’s first letter (1John) offers a beautiful picture of confession (תְּשׁוּבָה teshuvah: return or repentance) and forgiveness:
If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.
Confession is not about shame. It’s about honesty, healing and restoration. In the season of יוֹם כִּפּוּר Yom Kippur (Day of Atonement), we are reminded that God’s desire is to remove our חַטָּאוֹת khattot (sins), our פְּשָׁעִים pesha’im (transgressions) and our עֲוֹנוֹת avonot (iniquities) — and to remember them no more (Jeremiah 31:31–34, the New Covenant prophecy).
One of the most beautiful aspects of the Exodus is the “mixed multitude” (עֵרֶב רַב erev rav) that left Egypt with Israel (Exodus 12:38). God’s invitation is not limited by ethnicity or background. As Isaiah prophesied:
“Let not the foreigner who has joined himself to the LORD say, ‘The LORD will surely separate me from His people.’”
In Messiah, all are welcome — Jew and Gentile, native and sojourner. The call to “come home” is for the whole world.
Pesakh is a festival rich with paradox. The same God who sends the destroyer also provides the means of protection — the blood of the lamb. As we read in Exodus 12, it is the LORD who both judges and saves.
This points us to Messiah, the ultimate Passover Lamb (1Corinthians 5:7), whose blood covers us and delivers us from the wrath to come.
The prophets speak of a “greater Exodus” — a future redemption so profound that the first Exodus will pale in comparison (Jeremiah 16:14-15). Revelation echoes these themes, describing plagues, deliverance, and the ultimate defeat of the adversary (Revelation 12:9-11).
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.
Our hope is not just in past deliverance, but in the promise of a new heaven and a new earth, where God will dwell with His people (Revelation 21:1–4).
Apostle Yokhanan challenges us to walk as Yeshua walked — not just in belief, but in action.
By this we know that we have come to know Him, if we keep His commandments. The one who says, ‘I have come to know Him,’ and does not keep His commandments, is a liar, and the truth is not in him.
Obedience is not about earning God’s love, but about living in the reality of His kingdom. The Hebrew word for “commandment” is מִצְוָה mitzvah, which comes from a root meaning “to connect.” Every mitzvah is an opportunity to draw closer to God and to one another.
Yeshua taught that all the Torah and the Prophets hang on two commandments: love God and love your neighbor (Matthew 22:37-40). This is not a new teaching, but a renewal of what God has always desired.
“You shall love your neighbor as yourself; I am the LORD.”
In Greek, the word for love is ἀγάπη agape, a self-giving, sacrificial love. In Hebrew, it’s אַהֲבָה ahavah, derived from a verb for give. This is the love that transforms communities and changes the world.
The Torah alone is not enough; we need the Spirit (רוּחַ, ruach) to guide and empower us. At Shavuot (Pentecost), we celebrate both the giving of the Torah at Sinai and the outpouring of the Spirit in Jerusalem (Acts 2).
Paul reminds us:
For the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.
The Spirit writes the Torah on our hearts (Jeremiah 31:33), enabling us to live out God’s instructions with joy and authenticity.
The New Covenant (בְּרִית חֲדָשָׁה brit chadashah) is not about abolishing the Torah, but about internalizing it. As Jeremiah prophesied:
“I will put My law within them and on their heart I will write it; and I will be their God, and they shall be My people.”
Through Messiah, we have an Advocate (παράκλητος parakletos—helper, advocate) with the Father (1John 2:1). His atonement covers our sins and restores our relationship with God.
1John warns against hypocrisy — claiming to walk in the light while living in darkness. True fellowship requires transparency, humility, and a willingness to confess and turn (teshuvah).
In 1 John 1:1–2:2, the Apostle John writes to combat early heresies and affirm believers’ fellowship with God through Yeshua. He emphasizes that we must be pure and obedient to Yeshua in order to dwell in His kingdom.
As we prepare for the Fall feasts, we need to confess and face our sins. Many Scriptures provide examples of repentance, including Psalm 51:7, Hebrews 9:14, and Leviticus 16:30. The first step in all of this is humility.
Just as Abraham submitted himself to Melchizedek by giving offerings and receiving blessings, so we are called to submit ourselves to Yeshua—bringing Him our offerings and receiving His blessings. For it is always the greater who blesses the lesser, the elder who blesses the younger.
The blood of Yeshua, the ultimate se’ir L’Adonai (the goat for the LORD on Yom Kippur), cleanses believers from khatot, pesha’im, and avonot (1 John 2:2), enabling fellowship with God and preparing us for Malkhut Adonai. Confession and teshuvah align with Yom Kippur’s atonement, keeping believers in God’s light.
1 John 2:2 reminds us that only one can forgive all our sins, from the least to the greatest. In humility, John points us to Yeshua.
Regular confession and reliance on Yeshua’s atonement purify believers, enabling them to abide in Malkhut Adonai. Our return to God is possible only because of what Yeshua has done for us.
On Yom Kippur, there are two goats: one for Adonai and the other for Azazel. Both are essential for the removal of sin and the restoration of fellowship. This is entirely Heaven’s work.
As we prepare for Yom Kippur, let’s ask: Are we wearing masks, or are we allowing God’s light to shine through us? Are our צִיצִתות tzitzitot (tassels) anchored to something real, or are they just decoration?
We need to live in a continual cycle of confession and repentance. This keeps us humble and prevents us from being overly harsh or judgmental toward others. By keeping our eyes on God rather than on ourselves, we purify our lives.
Keeping Yeshua’s commandments reflects the Torah’s call to love God and neighbor, fulfilled in Yeshua’s life and sacrifice.
This obedience ensures believers remain in Malkhut Adonai, free from the darkness of malkhut haSatan (1 John 2:8–11). Obedience is not how we enter God’s kingdom, but it is how we remain in it. God is a God of order, not of chaos; disobedience brings chaos.
God’s commandments are simple. It is people who make them complicated for the sake of their own egos and power. This is why Yeshua often clashed with both the Pharisees and the Sadducees.
Our journey is not just from slavery to freedom, but from slavery to sonship. In Messiah, we are adopted as children of God (Romans 8:15-17), heirs of the promises given to Abraham.
For you are all sons of God through faith in Messiah Yeshua.
This identity calls us to live differently — to reflect God’s character, to pursue justice and mercy, and to invite others into the journey.
As we close, I invite you to reflect on your own journey. Where are you in the process of coming home? What chains are you ready to leave behind? How is God calling you to deeper trust, confession, and transformation?
The story of Exodus, the teachings of Paul, the letters of Yokhanan all point us to the same truth: God is faithful. His love is steadfast. And the invitation to return — to come home — is always open.
May we walk in the light, love with sincerity, and live as citizens of the Kingdom of God, anchored in His Word and empowered by His Spirit.