Welcome to Wisdom-Trek with Gramps!   I am Guthrie Chamberlain, and we are on Day 2776 of our Trek.   The Purpose of Wisdom-Trek is to create a legacy of wisdom, to seek out discernment and insights, and to boldly grow where few have chosen to grow before.

Our current series of Theology Thursday lessons is written by theologian and teacher John Daniels. I have found that his lessons are short, easy to understand, doctrinally sound, and applicable to all who desire to learn more of God’s Word. John’s lessons can be found on his website   theologyinfive.com.   Today’s lesson is titled Joseph the Dreamer: Discovering the Depths of a Beloved Biblical Figure.   

Joseph, son of Jacob and Rachel, emerges from the pages of Genesis not only as a survivor of betrayal and hardship but as a symbol of divine providence and redemptive purpose. His journey from favored son to slave, prisoner, and ultimately, savior of nations illustrates the unseen hand of God at work through suffering and humility. While many are familiar with his colorful coat and rise to power in Egypt, lesser-known elements of his life bring out the deeper beauty and significance of his character.

Joseph’s dreams and his ability to interpret them play a crucial role in his life, as well as in the survival of his family and Egypt. While his dreams of sheaves and celestial bodies bowing to him are well-known, his interpretation of the dreams of Pharaoh’s cupbearer and baker is equally significant. These interpretations not only revealed divine insight but became the very means by which Joseph was elevated from prison to the highest court in the land. His gift, given by God, opened the way for his destiny to unfold.

Joseph’s encounter with Potipar’s wife, who falsely accused him of misconduct, is often highlighted as a moment of moral integrity. But it also demonstrates his unwavering faith in God. Faced with repeated temptation and the risk of losing his position, Joseph chose righteousness, which ultimately led to unjust imprisonment. Even in the dungeon, however, his faith did not falter. This period of suffering refined his character and prepared him for the weight of future authority.

Upon rising to power, Pharaoh gave Joseph an Egyptian name, Zaphenath-paneah, and a wife, Asenath, the daughter of Potiphera, priest of On (Genesis forty-one verse forty-five). These details mark Joseph’s deep assimilation into Egyptian culture and political structure. His new name, possibly meaning “God speaks and he lives,” highlighted his prophetic role. His marriage into a priestly household further established his legitimacy in the Egyptian elite.

Some might expect condemnation for such a union—after all, Potiphera was a priest of a pagan deity. Yet the biblical text offers no such rebuke. Unlike other biblical figures who compromised their faith through foreign marriages, such as Solomon, Joseph remained faithful to Yahweh. He consistently credited God for his success, named his sons in ways that reflected divine providence, and clung to God’s promises.

His marriage to Asenath, arranged by Pharaoh, served a broader purpose: the preservation of life during famine and the fulfillment of God’s plan. Far from condemnation, the silence of the text implies approval within the context of God’s sovereign orchestration.

Joseph’s sons, Ephraim and Manasseh, were born in Egypt and were later adopted by Jacob as his own (Genesis forty-eight verse five). When Jacob blessed them, he deliberately crossed his hands, placing his right hand on the younger Ephraim and his left on Manasseh. Joseph tried to correct him, but Jacob insisted that Ephraim would be greater.

This was not a casual or symbolic reversal. In previous instances—Isaac over Ishmael, Jacob over Esau—the firstborn was passed over for specific reasons. Isaac was the child of promise. Esau despised his birthright. In this case, there is no recorded failure in Manasseh. The reversal seems purely prophetic, a choice of God’s will rather than man’s expectations. Ephraim would go on to become the dominant tribe in the northern kingdom of Israel. This pattern affirms that God’s favor is rooted in divine purpose, not human convention.

One of the most powerful scenes in Joseph’s life is his reconciliation with his brothers. After years of separation, famine drove them to Egypt, unknowingly placing them at the mercy of the very brother they betrayed. Instead of seeking revenge, Joseph wept, embraced them, and declared, “You meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive” (Genesis fifty verse twenty). In this moment, Joseph revealed the core truth of his life—faith in God’s providence. His forgiveness prefigured the greater forgiveness that would come through Christ.

Before his death, Joseph made his family swear that when God brought them out of Egypt, they would carry his bones with them (Genesis fifty verse twenty-five). Centuries later, Moses honored that oath (Exodus thirteen verse nineteen), and Joshua buried Joseph in Shechem (Joshua twenty-four verse thirty-two).

Though he lived most of his life as an Egyptian ruler, Joseph’s final request demonstrated his unwavering loyalty to the covenant and his belief in God’s promises to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. His heart remained with the people of God.

In biblical theology, a prophetic type is a real person, event, or institution in the Old Testament that prefigures and points forward to a greater fulfillment in the New Testament—often in the person and work of Jesus Christ. These types are not accidental parallels but part of God’s intentional design to weave the story of redemption across generations.

Joseph’s life points forward to the Messiah in striking ways. Rejected by his own, falsely accused, and raised up to save the nations, he serves as a type of Christ. Joseph forgives those who wronged him, provides bread for the world during famine, and becomes a mediator between his family and the throne. Like Christ, Joseph is both suffering servant and exalted savior—an early echo of the Gospel embedded in Genesis.

Joseph’s life is a story of providence, perseverance, and divine purpose. While his rise to power is dramatic, the spiritual journey behind it reveals the true greatness of his character. He trusted God in the pit, the prison, and the palace. He forgave when he could have condemned. He lived faithfully in a pagan land without compromising his devotion to Yahweh. And in death, he looked forward to the fulfillment of God’s promises. Joseph stands not only as a patriarch of Israel but as a preview of the Redeemer to come.

How do the lesser-known elements of Joseph’s life, such as his Egyptian name and wife, add depth to our understanding of his journey and identity?

In what ways does Jacob’s blessing of Joseph’s sons reflect the biblical theme of God choosing according to His purpose rather than birth order?

How does Joseph’s forgiveness of his brothers reflect divine providence and point forward to Christ?

What does Joseph’s assimilation into Egypt—and yet loyalty to Israel—teach us about living faithfully in foreign or secular cultures?

How does Joseph’s life encourage believers to trust God in the face of unjust suffering or long periods of waiting?

 

Join us next time on Theology Thursday, where our lesson will explore: A Critical Examination of Alexander Hislop: Why His Teachings Should Be Ignored

If you found this podcast insightful, please subscribe and leave us a review, then encourage your friends and family to join us and come along tomorrow for another day of  ‘Wisdom-Trek,    Creating a Legacy.’        

Thank you so much for allowing me to be your guide, mentor, and, most importantly,   I am your friend as I serve you through this Wisdom-Trek podcast and journal.

As we take this Trek of life together, let us always:          

Liv Abundantly.        

Love Unconditionally.       

Listen Intentionally.       

Learn Continuously.       

Lend to others Generously.        

Lead with Integrity.        

Leave a Living Legacy Each Day.        

I am Guthrie Chamberlain, reminding you to,   “Keep Moving Forward, Enjoy your journey, and create a great day, every day!  Join me next time for more daily wisdom!

Welcome to Wisdom-Trek with Gramps! I am Guthrie Chamberlain, and we are on Day two thousand seven hundred seventy-five of our Trek. The Purpose of Wisdom-Trek is to create a legacy of wisdom, to seek out discernment and insights, and to boldly grow where few have chosen to grow before.

Today, we continue our difficult but necessary journey through Psalm One Hundred Six, trekking through the heart of the wilderness rebellion in verses thirteen through thirty-three, in the New Living Translation.

In our previous trek, we stood on the shores of the Red Sea. We saw the waters part, the Israelites walk through on dry ground, and the armies of Pharaoh swallowed by the deep. We ended with verse twelve, where the people finally believed God’s promises and sang His praise. It seemed like a happy ending. It seemed like the lesson had finally been learned.

But as we turn the page to verse thirteen, we discover a tragic truth about human nature: Singing on Sunday does not guarantee obedience on Monday.

The faith that is born only from seeing a miracle often dies as soon as the miracle fades from view. Today, we will witness the "Cycle of Amnesia." We will see a generation that had everything—the presence of God, the leadership of Moses, and the bread of heaven—yet threw it all away for a golden statue and a meal with demons.

We will look at the tragedy of the Golden Calf, the envy of Korah, the refusal to enter the Promised Land, and the dark idolatry of Baal-Peor. This is a heavy section, but it serves as a mirror. It forces us to ask: How quickly do we forget?

So, let us walk carefully through this catalog of rebellion, lest we repeat it.

Psalm One Hundred Six: verses thirteen through fifteen.

Yet how quickly they forgot what he had done! They wouldn’t wait for his counsel!  In the wilderness their desires ran wild, testing God’s patience in that dry wasteland.  So he gave them what they asked for, but he sent a plague along with it.

The ink was barely dry on their song of praise when the amnesia set in: "Yet how quickly they forgot what he had done!"

The Hebrew phrasing here is vivid; it literally means, "They made haste to forget." They didn't just passively drift away; they rushed back to unbelief. They ignored the "counsel" of God—His plan and His timing—because they were driven by their appetites.

This refers to the incident in Numbers Chapter Eleven, where the people grew tired of the manna. The manna was the perfect, supernatural food described in Psalm One Hundred Five as the "bread of heaven." But they wanted meat. They wanted the leeks and onions of Egypt. They allowed their physical cravings to dictate their spiritual reality. They "tested God" by demanding He cater to their palate rather than trusting His provision.

And here is one of the most frightening verses in the Bible: "So he gave them what they asked for, but he sent a plague along with it."

The King James Version renders this, "He sent leanness into their soul."

God answered their prayer, but it was a judgment, not a blessing. He sent the quail—piles of meat—but while the meat was still in their teeth, a wasting disease struck them.

This teaches us a profound lesson about prayer. Just because God grants a request does not mean He approves of the heart behind it. Sometimes, the worst thing God can do is let us have our own way. We must be careful that in satisfying our flesh, we do not starve our souls.

The second segment is: The Envy of Authority: The Rebellion of Korah.

Psalm One Hundred Six: verses sixteen through eighteen.

The people in the camp were jealous of Moses and envious of Aaron, the Lord’s holy priest.  Because of this, the earth opened up; it swallowed Dathan and buried Abiram and the other rebels.  Fire fell on their followers; a flame consumed the wicked.

The rebellion moves from the stomach to the ego.

This recounts the rebellion of Korah, Dathan, and Abiram in Numbers Chapter Sixteen. They looked at the leadership structure God had established and claimed it was unfair. They said, "The whole community is holy... Why then do you set yourselves above the Lord's assembly?"

They framed their rebellion as a democratic movement, but the psalmist calls it what it was: Jealousy. They wanted the priesthood for themselves. They despised the "holy priest" God had chosen.

In the Ancient Israelite worldview, the priesthood was not a career; it was a dangerous proximity to the Divine Presence. Aaron was the "Holy One of Yahweh"—set apart to handle the lethal holiness of God. By envying Aaron, Korah was trivializing the holiness of God.

The punishment was swift and terrifying: "Because of this, the earth opened up; it swallowed Dathan and buried Abiram... Fire fell on their followers."

The earth opened its mouth, and fire descended from heaven. This is de-creation language. The ground (structure) gave way, and the fire (judgment) consumed. It demonstrated that you cannot appoint yourself to leadership in God’s Kingdom. Authority is given, not grasped.

The third segment is: The Great Exchange: Trading Glory for Grass.

Psalm One Hundred Six: verses nineteen through twenty-three.

The people made a calf at Mount Sinai; they bowed before an image made of gold.  They traded their glorious God for a statue of a grass-eating bull.  They forgot God, their savior, who had done such great things in Egypt,  such wonderful things in the land of Ham, such awesome deeds at the Red Sea.  So he declared he would destroy them. But Moses, his chosen one, stepped between the Lord and the people. He begged him to turn from his anger and not destroy them.

Now we reach the climax of their spiritual treason: The Golden Calf.

This happened at Mount Sinai (Horeb), the very place where they had sworn the covenant. While Moses was up on the mountain receiving the tablets of the Law, the people were down in the valley breaking the first two commandments.

The Hebrew here is devastatingly sarcastic. They exchanged their Glory (Kavod)—the radiant, uncreated weight of Yahweh’s presence—for the "likeness of an ox that eats grass."

In the Ancient Near East, bulls (like the Apis bull in Egypt) were symbols of power and fertility. But the psalmist strips away the mystique. He reminds us: "It’s a cow. It eats grass. It defecates." To trade the Creator of the stars for a barnyard animal is the ultimate insanity of idolatry.

Why did they do it? "They forgot God, their savior..."

Once again, Amnesia. They disconnected the miracles of Egypt from the Person of Yahweh. They wanted a visible god they could control, rather than an invisible God they had to obey.

God’s response was righteous wrath: "So he declared he would destroy them."

God was ready to wipe Israel out and start over with Moses. But then we see one of the greatest acts of intercession in history:

Literally, Moses "stood in the breach" (perets). Imagine a fortress wall that has been broken open by an enemy ram. The soldiers rush to stand in the gap to hold back the invasion. Moses stood in the broken wall of the covenant, facing the wrath of God, and pleaded for mercy. He saved the nation not by strength, but by intercessory prayer.

The fourth segment is: The Scorn of the Inheritance: The Refusal to Enter.

Psalm One Hundred Six: verses twenty-four through twenty-seven.

The people refused to enter the pleasant land, for they wouldn’t believe his promise to care for them.  Instead, they grumbled in their tents and refused to obey the Lord.  Therefore, he solemnly swore that he would kill them in the wilderness,  that he would scatter their descendants among the nations and exile them to distant lands.

After the calf, came the spies. In Numbers Chapter Thirteen and Fourteen, the people stood on the border of Canaan.

The Hebrew word for "refused" is actually "despised" (ma’as). They looked at the inheritance God had prepared—the land flowing with milk and honey—and said, "No thanks. The giants are too big." They despised the gift because they didn't trust the Giver.

This is the sound of unbelief: murmuring. It is the quiet, poisonous talk inside the home that undermines faith.

Because they refused to enter the land, God raised His hand in an oath: "Therefore, he solemnly swore that he would kill them in the wilderness..."

That entire generation was sentenced to die in the desert. But the psalmist adds a prophetic detail: "...that he would scatter their descendants among the nations and exile them to distant lands."

This refers to the later Exile (Babylon). The psalmist connects the dots. The spirit of unbelief that started at Kadesh Barnea eventually led to the destruction of Jerusalem centuries later. Disbelief has a long, tragic echo.

The fifth segment is: The Yoke of the Dead: The Horror of Baal-Peor.

Psalm One Hundred Six: verses twenty-eight through thirty-one.

Then our ancestors joined in the worship of Baal at Peor; they even ate sacrifices offered to the dead!  They angered the Lord with all these things, so a plague broke out among them.  But Phinehas had the courage to intervene, and the plague was stopped.  So he has been regarded as a righteous man ever since that time.

Near the end of the wilderness journey, another disaster struck.

The phrase "joined in" (or "yoked themselves") implies a binding covenant. They didn't just visit; they shackled themselves to Baal, the storm god of the Canaanites.

This is a chilling detail understood through the Divine Council worldview. The "dead" (metim) here likely refers not just to lifeless idols, but to the spirits of the dead or the underworld ancestors (the Rephaim) worshipped in Canaanite necromancy cults.

Israel was eating a ritual meal—a communion—with demons and the dead. They were engaging in spiritual adultery of the darkest kind, seeking life from the realm of death.

God sent a plague, but one man acted: "But Phinehas had the courage to intervene, and the plague was stopped."

Phinehas, the grandson of Aaron, saw a prominent Israelite taking a Midianite princess into his tent for ritual sex right in front of the Tabernacle. In holy zeal, he took a spear and executed them both.

The text says this act "was counted to him as righteousness." This echoes Abraham’s faith. Phinehas’s zeal for God’s honor stopped the judgment. Sometimes, radical evil requires a radical stand for holiness.

The sixth segment is: The Breaking of the Leader: The Waters of Meribah.

Psalm One Hundred Six: verses thirty-two through thirty-three.

At Meribah, too, they angered the Lord, causing Moses serious trouble.  They made Moses angry, and he spoke foolishly.

Finally, the psalmist recounts the tragedy of Moses.

This refers to Numbers Chapter Twenty. The people complained about water (again). God told Moses to speak to the rock. But Moses, worn down by forty years of their rebellion, struck the rock twice and shouted, "Must we bring you water out of this rock, you rebels?"

Literally, "They embittered his spirit, and he spoke rashly with his lips."

This is heartbreaking. Moses, the man who stood in the breach to save them (verse 23), was finally broken by them. The constant drip, drip, drip of their rebellion provoked the meekest man on earth to sin, costing him his entrance into the Promised Land.

It serves as a sober warning to all leaders: the sins of the people we lead can tempt us to sin ourselves. We must guard our spirits against bitterness, even when dealing with rebels.

Psalm One Hundred Six, verses thirteen through thirty-three, is a mirror we dare not look away from.

We see the cycle:

Craving: Wanting the gifts more than the Giver (The Quail).

Envy: Resenting God’s appointed order (Korah).

Idolatry: Trading Glory for a substitute (The Calf).

Disbelief: Despising the inheritance (The Spies).

Compromise: Yoking with the culture (Baal-Peor).

And through it all, we see the danger of Amnesia. They forgot God.

But we also see the power of Intercession. Moses stood in the breach. Phinehas stood up for righteousness. Even in the midst of rebellion, God looks for someone to stand in the gap.

As you walk your trek today, ask yourself: Is there a "golden calf" in my life—something tangible I trust more than the invisible God? Is there a "bitter spirit" like Moses had at Meribah?

Let us break the cycle of forgetting. Let us remember His works, trust His counsel, and enter the pleasant land He has prepared.

If you found this podcast insightful, please subscribe and leave us a review, then encourage your friends and family to join us and come along tomorrow for another day of, ‘Wisdom-Trek, Creating a Legacy.’

Thank you so much for allowing me to be your guide, mentor, and, most importantly, I am your friend as I serve you through this Wisdom-Trek podcast and journal.   As we take this Trek of life together, let us always: Live Abundantly.   Love Unconditionally.   Listen Intentionally.   Learn Continuously.   Lend to others Generously.   Lead with Integrity.   Leave a Living Legacy Each Day.

I am Guthrie Chamberlain, reminding you to’ Keep Moving Forward,’ ‘Enjoy your Journey,’ and ‘Create a Great Day…Everyday! See you next time for more daily wisdom!

 

 

Day 2774– The Day Mary Met Gabriel - Luke 1:26-56

Putnam Church Message – 12/07/2025

Last week, we continued our year-long study of Luke’s Narrative of the Good News in a message titled: “A Baby at our Age? Get Serious!”

This week is the second Sunday of Advent, which is Peace, as we continue to build anticipation of the coming Messiah. Today's passage is the story of: “The Day Mary Met Gabriel.” – Peace in the Unexpected. Our Core verses for this week will be Luke 1:26-56, found on page 1588 of your Pew Bibles.

47     and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,

48 for he has been mindful

of the humble state of his servant.

From now on all generations will call me blessed,

49     for the Mighty One has done great things for me—

holy is his name.

50 His mercy extends to those who fear him,

from generation to generation.

51 He has performed mighty deeds with his arm;

he has scattered those who are proud in their inmost thoughts.

52 He has brought down rulers from their thrones

but has lifted up the humble.

53 He has filled the hungry with good things

but has sent the rich away empty.

54 He has helped his servant Israel,

remembering to be merciful

55 to Abraham and his descendants forever,

just as he promised our ancestors.”

teach us how to trust You when life does not go according to our plans.

Calm our fears, quiet our hearts, and let the Prince of Peace reign in us today.

Amen.

Advent is traditionally a season of hope, peace, joy, and love.

But if we’re honest, many of us come into this season with anything but peace.

Our news feeds are full of conflict.

Our homes may carry unspoken tension.

Our minds are cluttered with anxieties about health, finances, family, or the future.

Into that kind of world, /God sent His Son, /not into a stable culture, /not into calm politics, /not into a peaceful, quiet time… but into a world under Roman occupation, under Herodian cruelty, into a little backwater village that no one expected anything from. And into that world, God sent a message of peace to a young woman named Mary.

Luke 1:26–56 shows us not just what God did through Mary, but what God wants to do in us—how He brings His peace into fearful, confusing, unexpected places.

“In the sixth month of Elizabeth’s pregnancy, God sent the angel Gabriel to Nazareth, a village in Galilee…” (Luke 1:26 NLT)

If you were planning the arrival of the Messiah, you might choose Jerusalem—the temple, the priests, the center of power. God chose Nazareth—a tiny, unimportant village in Galilee.

For many Jews, “Nazareth” was a joke. Later, Nathanael will say,  “Can anything good come from Nazareth?” (John 1:46).

That is the setting. /And into that setting, the angel Gabriel is sent—not to a queen, not to a priest, not to a scribe, but to a young, unknown, poor girl.

Luke is careful to emphasize Mary’s humility and ordinariness:

She is from a small, overlooked town.

She is a virgin, betrothed, waiting for the final stage of marriage.

She has no status, no wealth, no platform.

And then the angel appears: “Greetings, favored woman! The Lord is with you!” (Luke 1:28 NLT)

Those words are not about Mary’s greatness. They are about God’s grace.

The Greek grammar behind “favored woman” implies a completed action done to her—she is not the source of grace; she is the recipient of grace, just like us.

Mary’s Inner Dialogue (Ancient Perspective) Put yourself in her sandals for a moment: “Why is an angel talking to me? I’m just a village girl. I’m not from Jerusalem, not from a priestly family. I don’t have anything to offer…”

And Heaven answers: “That’s exactly the point. It’s not about what you bring to God—it’s about what God brings to you.”

Modern Parallel: We may think, “I’m too ordinary. /My job is small. /My house is simple. /My life is not impressive.” And God says: “I’m not looking for impressive. / I’m looking for willing. / The Lord is with you.”

Hold up a simple clay jar—plain, rough, unimpressive.  Explain: “If I were going to store something valuable, I’d choose a strong safe, a locked vault, a beautiful container.

But God says: ‘We have this treasure in jars of clay…’ (2 Corinthians 4:7).

Why? This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves.

“Confused and disturbed, Mary tried to think what the angel could mean.” (Luke 1:29 NLT)

Mary is not a stained-glass statue. She is a real young woman, probably a teenager, who is suddenly confronted with a heavenly messenger and a life-changing announcement. /Her initial response? Not serene calm. Not instant composure. She is confused and disturbed.

And the angel says what angels so often say when God steps into human fear: “Don’t be afraid, Mary…” (Luke 1:30 NLT) “Do not be afraid” does not mean “There’s nothing scary here.”  /It means, “There is something scary—but I will be with you in it.”

We must remember the cultural context:

Mary is betrothed, which was more binding than our modern engagement.

Betrothal could only be ended by divorce.

A pregnancy discovered during betrothal suggested adultery—

which could lead to public shame, rejection, or even stoning (Deut. 22:23–24).

So when Gabriel says: “You will conceive and give birth to a son… and you will name him Jesus.” (1:31)

Mary cannot be naïve. She likely feels a tidal wave of thoughts:

“What will Joseph do?

What will my parents think?

Will anyone believe me?

Could this cost me my life?”

And into that swirl of fear, the angel says: “Do not be afraid… You have found favor with God.” (1:30)

In Hebrew, Gethsemane means “olive press.” To get oil, olives are crushed under tremendous pressure.

Ancient teachers would say: “The more the olive is pressed, the more precious its oil.”

In the same way, God’s people are often pressed—not to destroy them, but to release something precious.

Mary is about to enter her own Gethsemane of misunderstanding and pressure.

Peace does not mean she will avoid the press;  it means God will be with her in it.

Tell the story of the airplane in heavy turbulence. Passengers grip their armrests, and some begin to cry. The plane jolts; drinks spill. But a small boy is calm, quietly coloring in his seat. A woman finally asks, “Aren’t you afraid?”

He smiles and says: “No ma’am. My dad is flying the plane.”

That is a picture of Advent peace. Not the absence of turbulence—but trust in Who is in control.

Place two small toy boats in a tub of water.

One is empty and light—it tips and flips with every splash.

The other has a small weight inside—it rocks, but stays upright.

Explain:

“Life’s waves hit everyone—believers and unbelievers alike. The difference is not the size of the storm; it’s the weight inside. The peace of Christ becomes that weight, keeping us from capsizing.”

After Mary’s honest question— “How can this happen? I am a virgin” (1:34)—

Gabriel answers: “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the baby to be born will be holy, and he will be called the Son of God.” (1:35 NLT)

He doesn’t answer every question she might have. He doesn’t lay out the whole timeline, or how Joseph will respond, or what Nazareth will say, or how she will explain this to her parents.

He simply gives her what she needs to know:

This will be God’s work, not yours.

The Holy Spirit will do what is humanly impossible.

This child will be holy, the Son of God.

And to strengthen her, He mentions Elizabeth’s miraculous pregnancy and says:

“For nothing is impossible with God.” (1:37 NLT)

Mary then displays one of the most beautiful responses in all of Scripture:

“Mary responded, ‘I am the Lord’s servant. May everything you have said about me come true.’” (1:38 NLT)

She does not say:

“Let me think about it.”

“Give me a week.”

“Tell me how this will all work out first.”

She chooses to surrender before certainty.

We can almost hear a deeper conversation in her heart: “Lord, I don’t understand this fully. I know this will be difficult. I know I may be misunderstood, misjudged, even rejected. But I trust You more than I trust my plans. I am Yours.”

And God’s response: “You will not avoid pain, Mary. But you will never be alone. And through your obedience, My peace and My salvation will come into the world.”

That is the heart of Advent peace: Not the absence of cost, but the presence of God in the cost.

Illustration – The Locked Door. (Far Side Cartoon) Imagine someone pushing on a door with all their strength. They strain, sweat, and get frustrated. Finally, someone comes beside them and points to the sign: “Pull, don’t push.”

We often push against circumstances, trying to control everything:

“If I push harder, I can make this work.” “If I worry more, maybe I can prevent something bad.”

Peace comes when we stop pushing and start surrendering.

Hold a small seed in a tightly closed fist. “As long as my hand is clenched, the seed cannot be planted, cannot grow, cannot bear fruit.”

Now open your hand. “Surrender is like this. When we open our hands to God, His peace and His purposes can take root in us.”

Mary doesn’t stay in Nazareth. She travels south, into the hill country of Judea, to visit her cousin Elizabeth. When Mary calls out a greeting, Elizabeth’s baby (John) leaps in her womb, and Elizabeth is filled with the Holy Spirit.

She cries out:

“God has blessed you above all women, and your child is blessed.” (1:42 NLT)

Elizabeth confirms everything God has spoken to Mary—without Mary even explaining.

Imagine how that must have felt. Back in Nazareth, people will doubt her story.

Rumors will spread. Questions will arise.

But in Elizabeth’s home, she is believed, blessed, and encouraged.

“You are blessed because you believed that the Lord would do what he said.” (1:45 NLT)

Encouraged and confirmed, Mary responds not with analysis, but with worship.

She sings the beautiful song we call The Magnificat (1:46–55).

What’s remarkable is when she sings it:

Joseph still hasn’t processed this fully (that will come in Matthew 1).

Her family and community haven’t agreed with her.

Her future still contains much uncertainty.

But Mary has heard from God.  She has surrendered. She has been confirmed by a godly friend. And now, before anything is resolved, she praises.

“Oh, how my soul praises the Lord. How my spirit rejoices in God my Savior!” (1:46–47 NLT)

Throughout Scripture:

Moses sang after the Red Sea parted.

Hannah sang after Samuel was born.

David sang after

Zachariah Prophecy Song after the birth of John the Baptizer

Mary sings before the resolution because peace has taken root in her heart.

She rejoices:

That God sees the humble.

That God scatters the proud.

That God lifts the lowly.

That God keeps His promises to Israel.

Mary does not magnify herself.  She magnifies the Lord.

“He made this promise to our ancestors, to Abraham and his children forever.” (1:55 NLT)

Ring the Bell

Explain: “No matter how noisy the room is, this bell’s ring holds a pure...

Welcome to Wisdom-Trek with Gramps! I am Guthrie Chamberlain, and we are on Day two thousand seven hundred seventy-three of our Trek. The Purpose of Wisdom-Trek is to create a legacy of wisdom, to seek out discernment and insights, and to boldly grow where few have chosen to grow before.

The title for today’s Wisdom-Trek is: The History of Rebellion – Grace at the Brink of the Sea.  

Today, we stand at a pivotal junction in the book of Psalms. We are beginning our journey through Psalm One Hundred Six, covering the opening movement, verses one through twelve, in the New Living Translation.

In our previous treks through Psalm One Hundred Five, we walked through the glittering gallery of Israel's history. We saw the faithfulness of God in calling Abraham, protecting the patriarchs, and bringing the nation out of Egypt loaded with silver and gold. It was a history written in major chords—a celebration of God’s unbreakable promise and Israel’s triumph.

But today, the music changes. Psalm One Hundred Six covers the exact same historical period—the Exodus and the Wilderness—but it tells the story from the dark side. If Psalm One Hundred Five was about God’s Faithfulness, Psalm One Hundred Six is about Israel’s Faithlessness.

It is a corporate confession. It admits that while God was remembering His covenant, the people were busy forgetting His miracles. It strips away the nostalgia and exposes the ugly truth: we are a people prone to rebellion.

Yet, strangely, this dark confession begins with a shout of praise. Why? Because the only thing stronger than human rebellion is God’s "Unfailing Love."

So, let us look in the mirror of history and see if we recognize ourselves in the rebels at the Red Sea.

The first segment is: The Hallelujah of the Sinner: Acknowledging Goodness.

Psalm One Hundred Six: verses one through three.

Praise the Lord! Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good! His faithful love endures forever.  Who can list the glorious miracles of the Lord? Who can ever praise him enough?  There is joy for those who deal justly with others and always do what is right.

The psalm opens with the same word that ended the previous psalm: "Hallelujah!" ("Praise the Lord!").

Even though the psalmist is about to recount a litany of national failures, he starts with the character of God: "Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good! His faithful love endures forever."

The word for "faithful love" is our covenant friend, Hesed. This is the anchor. The psalmist knows that if God’s love were not enduring—if it were based on performance—Israel would have been wiped out long ago. He praises God before he confesses, because God’s goodness provides the safety to be honest about our sin.

He then asks a rhetorical question: "Who can list the glorious miracles of the Lord? Who can ever praise him enough?"

This links us back to Psalm One Hundred Five, where the psalmist did exactly that—he listed the miracles. But here, he admits that the list is inexhaustible. God’s "glorious miracles" (literally, "mighty deeds" or gevurot) are beyond human calculation.

Verse three provides a beatitude: "There is joy for those who deal justly with others and always do what is right."

This sets the standard. God is looking for a people who practice justice (mishpat) and righteousness (tsedakah). As we will see, this highlights the tragedy of Israel’s history—they were saved to be righteous, but they constantly chose rebellion. The psalmist acknowledges the ideal before confessing the reality.

The second segment is: The Personal Plea: Include Me in the Rescue.

Psalm One Hundred Six: verses four through five.

Remember me, Lord, when you show favor to your people; come near and rescue me.  Let me share in the prosperity of your chosen ones. Let me rejoice in the joy of your people; let me praise you with those who are your heritage.

Before diving into the history lesson, the psalmist interrupts with a deeply personal prayer.

He doesn't want to be a mere historian; he wants to be a participant. He asks to be included in the "favor" (ratson) shown to the nation.

Notice the terms he uses for the community:

"Your people" (ammeka)

"Your chosen ones" (bechireka)

"Your heritage" (nachalatek)

These are covenant terms. "Heritage" is particularly significant in the Divine Council worldview. It refers to the fact that while the other nations were allotted to the sons of God, Israel is Yahweh’s personal portion (Deuteronomy Thirty-two: nine). The psalmist is saying, "Lord, don't leave me out. When you bless your own allotment, make sure I am standing in the stream of blessing."

He wants to "share in the prosperity" (literally, "see the good") of the chosen. He wants to move from being an observer of God’s work to being a beneficiary of it.

The third segment is: The Confession Begins: Amnesia in Egypt.

Psalm One Hundred Six: verses six through seven.

Like our ancestors, we have sinned. We have done wrong! We have acted wickedly!  Our ancestors in Egypt were not impressed by your miraculous deeds. They soon forgot your many acts of kindness to them. Instead, they rebelled against the Most High at the Red Sea.

Now, the tone shifts dramatically. The psalmist identifies himself with the sins of the past.

This is a threefold confession of guilt, mirroring the high priestly confession on the Day of Atonement. He is not saying, "Those people back then were bad." He is saying, "We are just like them. The apple has not fallen far from the tree."

He then pinpoints the origin of this rebellion: "Our ancestors in Egypt were not impressed by your miraculous deeds."

Literally, "They did not understand" or "They did not consider wisely."

In Psalm One Hundred Five, we read about the plagues—the water turning to blood, the darkness, the hail. You would think these events would create unshakable faith. But the psalmist tells us that the Israelites saw the fireworks but missed the theology. They saw the power, but they didn't understand the person.

This is the fatal flaw: Amnesia. They forgot the Hesed (kindness/love). The moment the pressure was on, the memory of God’s goodness evaporated.

The specific location of this rebellion is crucial: "Instead, they rebelled against the Most High at the Red Sea."

The text refers to the "Red Sea" (literally Yam Suph or Sea of Reeds). In Exodus Fourteen, when the Israelites saw Pharaoh’s army approaching and the sea in front of them, they didn't pray; they panicked. They screamed at Moses, "Were there no graves in Egypt that you brought us out here to die?"

The psalmist calls this what it is: Rebellion. They were rebelling against the Most High (Elyon). By despairing, they were essentially saying that Pharaoh’s chariots were stronger than the Most High God. They were doubting the supremacy of Yahweh.

The fourth segment is: The Rescue: For the Sake of the Name.

Psalm One Hundred Six: verse eight.

Even so, he saved them for his name’s sake, to demonstrate his mighty power.

This verse contains the most powerful two words in the gospel: "Even so..." (or "Nevertheless").

God did not save them because they were faithful. He didn't save them because they were brave. He saved them despite their rebellion. Why?

This brings us deep into the Divine Council worldview. God’s "Name" is His reputation among the nations and the spiritual powers.

If God had let Israel die on the banks of the Red Sea, the Egyptians—and their gods—would have claimed victory. They would have said, "Yahweh could get them out of Egypt, but He couldn't get them across the water. Our god Yam (the Sea) was too strong for Him."

God saved them to protect His own reputation. He had to vindicate His claim to be the Most High. He acted to "demonstrate his mighty power" (literally, "to make known His might"). The salvation of Israel was not just an act of love; it was a cosmic press release. It proved to the watching world—and the watching angels—that Yahweh is the undefeated Warrior.

The fifth segment is: The Rebuke of the Chaos Waters.

He commanded the Red Sea to dry up, and he led Israel across the sea as if it were a desert.  So he rescued them from their enemies and redeemed them from their foes.  Then the water returned and covered their enemies; not one of them survived.  Then his people believed his promises. Then they sang his praise.

The method of the rescue is described in language reminiscent of creation myths, but repurposed for history.

The word "commanded" here is actually "rebuked" (ga’ar). This is warrior language. In the ancient Near East, the Sea (Yam) was often personified as a chaos monster or a rival god. In creation accounts, the deity battles the sea to establish dry land.

Here, Yahweh rebukes the Red Sea just as He rebuked the primeval waters in Psalm One Hundred Four. He yells at the water, and it dries up.

This emphasizes the totality of the miracle. They didn't wade through mud. They walked through the "deep" (tehom)—the scary abyss—as if it were the dry wilderness. God transformed the geography of chaos into a highway of safety.

The water that obeyed Yahweh refused to obey Pharaoh. The "enemies" (the haters) and the "foes" (the hostile ones) were swallowed by the very chaos they tried to use against Israel. This was the final blow to the might of Egypt. The agents of the "throne of destruction" were uncreated by the collapsing waters.

And finally, the reaction: "Then his people believed his promises. Then they sang his praise."

Note the word "Then."   They believed after they saw the dead bodies on the shore. They sang after the danger was past.

While this was a moment of genuine worship—referring to the Song of Moses in Exodus Fifteen—the psalmist includes a subtle critique. Their faith was reactive, not proactive. They rebelled before the miracle (verse 7) and believed only after the miracle (verse 12).

This kind of faith—sight-based faith—is fragile. As we will see in the next podcast, it didn't last long. "They soon forgot."

Psalm One Hundred Six, verses one through twelve, sets the stage for a tragic story, but it also establishes the ground of our hope.

It teaches us that we are prone to forget God's kindness the moment we face an obstacle. We are prone to panic and rebellion at the edge of the sea. We are prone to doubt the Most High.

But it also teaches us that God is Good and His love is Unfailing.   He saves us not because our faith is perfect, but "for His name's sake." He saves us because He has staked His reputation on our redemption. He rebukes the chaos in our lives so that He can display His mighty power.

So today, as you walk your trek, do not wait until the battle is over to believe. Do not wait until you see the solution to sing. Learn the lesson of the Red Sea: Trust the God who rebukes the waters before they part.

If you found this podcast insightful, please subscribe and leave us a review, then encourage your friends and family to join us and come along tomorrow for another day of, ‘Wisdom-Trek, Creating a Legacy.’

Thank you so much for allowing me to be your guide, mentor, and, most importantly, I am your friend as I serve you through this Wisdom-Trek podcast and journal.   As we take this Trek of life together, let us always: Live Abundantly.   Love Unconditionally.   Listen Intentionally.   Learn Continuously.   Lend to others Generously.   Lead with Integrity.   Leave a Living Legacy Each Day.

I am Guthrie Chamberlain, reminding you to’ Keep Moving Forward,’ ‘Enjoy your Journey,’ and ‘Create a Great Day…Everyday! See you next time for more daily wisdom!

 

Welcome to Wisdom-Trek with Gramps! I am Guthrie Chamberlain, and we are on Day two thousand seven hundred seventy-two of our Trek. The Purpose of Wisdom-Trek is to create a legacy of wisdom, to seek out discernment and insights, and to boldly grow where few have chosen to grow before.

The title for today’s Wisdom-Trek is: The Great Exodus – Spoils of War and the Bread of Angels.

Today, we reach the glorious conclusion of our historical journey through Psalm One Hundred Five, trekking through the final section, verses thirty-seven through forty-five, in the New Living Translation.

In our previous trek, we descended into the darkness of Egypt. We walked through the dungeon with Joseph, feeling the iron collar around his neck. We witnessed the "War of the Gods," where Yahweh systematically dismantled the Egyptian pantheon through the ten plagues. We saw the Nile turn to blood, the sky turn black, and the firstborn fall, proving that the gods of Egypt were powerless before the God of Abraham.

But the story doesn't end with the defeat of the enemy. It ends with the liberation of the family.

Today, we watch the Israelites walk out of the house of slavery. But they do not leave as refugees; they leave as conquerors. We will see them laden with silver and gold, guided by a pillar of fire, and fed by bread from heaven. We will see them march into the Promised Land to reclaim the territory of the nations.

And finally, we will answer the ultimate question: Why? Why did God do all of this? Why the plagues, the miracles, and the manna? The final verse of this psalm gives us the answer, and it defines the very purpose of our existence.

So, let us join the procession of the redeemed as they march toward Zion.

Psalm One Hundred Five: verses thirty-seven through thirty-eight.

The Lord brought his people out of Egypt, loaded with silver and gold; and not one among the tribes of Israel even stumbled.  Egypt was glad when they were gone, for they feared them greatly.

The psalm picks up immediately after the Passover night. The judgment has fallen, and now the liberation begins.

This is the fulfillment of a specific prophecy given to Abraham way back in Genesis Fifteen, verse fourteen: "Afterward they will come out with great possessions."

In the Ancient Israelite worldview, this event—often called the "plundering of the Egyptians"—was not merely reparations for four hundred years of slavery, though it certainly was that. It was the Spoils of War.

Yahweh, the Divine Warrior, had defeated the gods of Egypt on their own turf. In ancient warfare, the victor strips the defeated. Israel, as the army of Yahweh, marched out carrying the wealth of the empire that tried to crush them. They didn't sneak away in the night empty-handed; they walked out wealthy.

And look at the physical condition of this massive crowd: "...and not one among the tribes of Israel even stumbled."

This is a miraculous detail. We are talking about a population of perhaps two million people, including the elderly, the children, and those who had been beaten down by hard labor in brick pits for generations. Logically, there should have been thousands of sick, lame, and exhausted people.

But the psalmist tells us that "not one... stumbled." God imparted supernatural vigor to their bodies. The night of the Passover wasn't just a spiritual deliverance; it was a physical infusion of life. They marched out with the strength of an army in its prime.

The reaction of their oppressors is telling: "Egypt was glad when they were gone, for they feared them greatly."

Literally, "the dread of them had fallen upon them." The tables had turned completely. In Psalm One Hundred Five, verse twenty-five, the Egyptians hated the Israelites and wanted to destroy them. Now, they are terrified of them. They are paying them to leave! This is what happens when God fights for you; even your enemies eventually want you to succeed, if only to get you out of their hair.

The second segment is: The Wilderness Cathedral: Cloud, Fire, and Bread.

Psalm One Hundred Five: verses thirty-nine through forty-one.

The Lord spread a cloud above them as a covering and gave them fire to light the darkness.  They asked for meat, and he sent them quail; he satisfied their hunger with manna—bread from heaven.  He split open a rock, and water gushed out to form a river through the dry wasteland.

Now the scene shifts to the wilderness. The wilderness was traditionally viewed as a place of chaos, danger, and demons—a "wasteland" where life could not survive. But Yahweh turns the wilderness into a sanctuary.

This is the Shekinah Glory—the visible presence of God. The cloud wasn't just for guidance; the psalmist says it was a "covering" (masak). In the scorching heat of the Sinai desert, God provided a supernatural canopy of shade. And at night, when the desert is pitch black and terrifying, He provided a pillar of fire.

This is the ultimate comfort: God adjusted the thermostat and the lighting for His children. He made the hostile environment habitable.

Then, He opened a restaurant in the desert: "They asked for meat, and he sent them quail; he satisfied their hunger with manna—bread from heaven."

The mention of "quail" reminds us of the time God sent birds so thick they covered the camp (Numbers Eleven). But the primary sustenance was "manna."

The psalmist calls it "bread from heaven" (or "bread of the heavens"). In Psalm Seventy-eight, it is called the "bread of angels" or "bread of the mighty ones." This connects to the Divine Council worldview. God was feeding His human family from the menu of His heavenly family. They were eating the food of the celestial court. It was supernatural nutrition that sustained them for forty years.

Finally, the miracle of water: "He split open a rock, and water gushed out to form a river through the dry wasteland."

Notice the volume. It wasn't a trickle; it was a "river" (nahar). It gushed out.

Paul tells us in First Corinthians Ten that "that Rock was Christ." Just as the Nile turned to blood (death) for the Egyptians, the dry flint rock turned to water (life) for the Israelites. God reverses nature to save His own.

The third segment is: The Reason for the Rescue: Covenant Faithfulness.

Psalm One Hundred Five: verse forty-two.

For he remembered his sacred promise to his servant Abraham.

Why did God do all this? Why the silver and gold? Why the angel food? Why the air-conditioning cloud?

Was it because Israel was so righteous? No. The wilderness narratives are full of their grumbling.

Was it because they were a mighty empire? No. They were a "few men of number" (verse 12).

The reason is singular: "For he remembered his sacred promise to his servant Abraham."

The Hebrew literally says, "He remembered His Holy Word with Abraham His servant."

Everything hinges on the Covenant. God bound Himself to Abraham with an unbreakable oath. The deliverance of the Exodus wasn't about the merit of the generation that left Egypt; it was about the faithfulness of God to a promise made four hundred years prior.

This is the anchor of our security. God blesses us not because we are perfect, but because He keeps His word. He remembers the "Holy Word" He spoke over us in Christ.

The fourth segment is: The Joyful Entry and the Reclaimed Land.

Psalm One Hundred Five: verses forty-three through forty-four.

So he brought his people out of Egypt with joy, his chosen ones with rejoicing.  He gave them the lands of other nations, and they harvested what others had planted.

The exodus culminates in an entrance.

The word "rejoicing" (rinnah) implies a ringing cry of triumph. The "groaning" of verse 16 (in Psalm 102) has been replaced by the "singing" of the redeemed.

And then comes the great transfer of property: "He gave them the lands of other nations, and they harvested what others had planted."

This brings us back to the cosmic geography of the Divine Council.

Since the Tower of Babel (Deuteronomy Thirty-two: eight), the "nations" (goyim) were under the dominion of other elohim (gods). Canaan was occupied territory, full of giants (Nephilim/Anakim) and nations serving these rebel gods.

When God gave Israel the "lands of the nations," it was a hostile takeover. Yahweh was dispossessing the rebel gods and giving their territory to His own portion, Israel.

Notice the phrase: "they harvested what others had planted."

This is the definition of Grace. They moved into cities they didn't build. They ate from vineyards they didn't plant (Deuteronomy Six). They received an inheritance that was prepared for them while they were still slaves. God did the heavy lifting; they received the bounty.

The fifth segment is: The Ultimate Goal: Obedience and Hallelujah.

Psalm One Hundred Five: verse forty-five.

All this happened so they would follow his decrees and obey his instructions. Praise the Lord!

We arrive at the final verse, which acts as the "So That" clause for the entire psalm.

God called Abraham... God protected the patriarchs... God sent Joseph... God judged Egypt... God parted the sea... God fed them manna... God gave them the land...

The purpose of Grace is not lawlessness; the purpose of Grace is Obedience.

God did not save them just so they could be happy, wealthy, and free to do whatever they wanted. He saved them so they could be a holy people—a kingdom of priests. He saved them so they could keep His "decrees" (choq) and His "instructions" (torah).

This is a crucial distinction. In religion, you obey in order to be saved. In the Bible, you are saved in order to obey.

Israel could not keep the Law while they were slaves in Egypt. They had to be liberated first. But once they were free, their freedom had a purpose: to showcase the character of Yahweh to the world through their lifestyle.

The psalm ends with one Hebrew phrase: Hallelujah! ("Praise the Lord!").

This wraps up the history lesson. When we look back at the sweep of history—from the promise to Abraham to the conquest of Canaan—we see a God who is faithful, powerful, and holy. The only rational response to such a story is "Hallelujah."

Psalm One Hundred Five teaches us that we are part of a long, unfolding story.

It reminds us that God is the provider who can set a table in the wilderness. It reminds us that He is the warrior who can plunder the enemy to bless His children. And it reminds us that our freedom has a goal.

We have been brought out of our own Egypt—the slavery of sin—so that we might keep the statutes of our King. We have been blessed to be obedient.

So today, as you walk your trek, look back at your own history. Remember the "wonders He has done" in your life. And let that memory fuel your obedience today.

If you found this podcast insightful, please subscribe and leave us a review, then encourage your friends and family to join us and come along tomorrow for another day of, ‘Wisdom-Trek, Creating a Legacy.’

Thank you so much for allowing me to be your guide, mentor, and, most importantly, I am your friend as I serve you through this Wisdom-Trek podcast and journal.   As we take this Trek of life together, let us always: Live Abundantly.   Love Unconditionally.   Listen Intentionally.   Learn Continuously.   Lend to others Generously.   Lead with Integrity.   Leave a Living Legacy Each Day.

I am Guthrie Chamberlain, reminding you to’ Keep Moving Forward,’ ‘Enjoy your Journey,’ and ‘Create a Great Day…Everyday! See you next time for more daily wisdom!

 

Welcome to Wisdom-Trek with Gramps!   I am Guthrie Chamberlain, and we are on Day 2771 of our Trek.   The Purpose of Wisdom-Trek is to create a legacy of wisdom, to seek out discernment and insights, and to boldly grow where few have chosen to grow before.

Our current series of Theology Thursday lessons is written by theologian and teacher John Daniels. I have found that his lessons are short, easy to understand, doctrinally sound, and applicable to all who desire to learn more of God’s Word. John’s lessons can be found on his website   theologyinfive.com.   Today’s lesson is titled The Prayers of Christ and the Destiny of the Faithful.  

When Jesus prays to the Father in the Gospels, He does so as the Incarnate Son, fully God and fully man. His prayers are not signs of weakness or inequality, but expressions of true humanity. They reflect His relationship with the Father within the limitations of flesh and blood, taken on voluntarily to accomplish the redemption of mankind.

Yet Christ’s prayers do more than model dependence. They reveal His mission, not merely to forgive sin, but to lead those united to Him into eternal fellowship with Yahweh, where they will be glorified through their relationship with Him. In His High Priestly Prayer in John seventeen, Jesus says:

“I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one” (John seventeen verse twenty-two).

This is not poetic exaggeration. It is a clear expression of Christ’s intent to raise His followers into the glory that He shares with the Father, restoring and transforming them in the process.

In John seventeen verses one and two, Jesus prays:

Christ’s authority includes granting eternal life, an existence defined not merely by duration, but by nature: incorruptibility, righteousness, and unending communion with God. Later in the same prayer, He says:

“Father, I want those you have given me to be with me where I am, and to see my glory…” (John seventeen verse twenty-four)

Though Christ is fully divine, He chose to humble Himself. As Paul writes in Philippians two verses six through eight, though existing in the form of God, He did not cling to His divine status but emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant. Hebrews two says He was made for a little while lower than the angels, not because He lost divinity, but because He embraced full humanity. His prayers reflect this self-imposed humility and His desire to elevate those He redeems.

Scripture consistently affirms the transformation of the faithful, not merely morally, but ontologically. Psalm eight states that man was made “a little lower than the heavenly beings,” but destined to be crowned with glory and honor. Hebrews two applies this to Christ and, by extension, to all who belong to Him.

First Corinthians fifteen declares that believers will be raised with glorified, incorruptible bodies. Paul contrasts natural and spiritual bodies, perishable and imperishable, and concludes:

“Just as we have borne the image of the earthly man, so shall we bear the image of the heavenly man” (First Corinthians fifteen verse forty-nine).

Scholar David A. Burnett has demonstrated that Paul’s language in First Corinthians Fifteen verse thirteen-nine through forty-two draws from Deuteronomy Four verses fifteen through nineteen, where the sun, moon, and stars are described in terms of divine beings. Paul is not making an abstract comparison. He is identifying the resurrection body with the glory and nature of celestial beings. Believers are not merely renewed humans. They are glorified and transformed, made fit for divine rule.

Burnett also shows that Paul’s reference to Genesis fifteen verse five in Romans four verse eighteen draws from Jewish interpretations in which Abraham’s descendants were not only numerous like the stars, but became like the stars—radiant, immortal, spiritual-class beings. Paul uses this framework to show that those united to Christ will experience this transformation through Him.

The early Church did not shy away from this truth. Athanasius famously wrote, “He was made man so that we might be made god.” This was not a claim to deity in the sense of identity with Yahweh, but a declaration of transformation. The faithful are not absorbed into the essence of God, but are elevated by grace into divine status, as sons and daughters, glorified beings, and members of the divine family.

In this sense, the faithful are called holy ones (hagioi in Greek, qedoshim in Hebrew), a term used throughout Scripture for divine beings in God’s presence (Deuteronomy thirty-three verse two, Psalm eighty-nine verse five through seven. Believers are not just called holy—they are made holy, transformed into beings fit for God’s eternal kingdom.

The destiny of the faithful is not to escape physicality, but to be restored to it, fully transformed. In the New Creation, believers will be raised in glorified, incorruptible bodies. They will not be spirits floating in the heavens, but immortal and embodied rulers, bearing the image of the risen Christ.

This restored humanity is not a return to Eden, but something greater: humans made fit to dwell in the presence of Yahweh, participating in His rule and glory. Revelation two verse twenty-six and twenty-seven promises.

Revelation three verse twenty-one continues,

“The one who conquers, I will grant him to sit with me on my throne, as I also conquered and sat down with my Father on His throne.”   These are not metaphors for private spiritual experience. They are declarations of real, embodied rulership in the world to come.

Believers are not Yahweh, and they are not members of the Godhead, but they are divine beings, glorified sons and daughters, part of God’s restored council, and eternal rulers in His kingdom.

Christ’s prayers reveal His humility and His mission: to bring those given to Him into eternal fellowship with Yahweh, where they will be glorified through their relationship with Him. Those who are united with Christ are not merely forgiven, they are transformed. They are raised. They are made glorious. They become what God intended humanity to be from the beginning.

Not metaphorically. Not symbolically. Truly.

This is the destiny of the faithful: to become glorified, immortal, embodied divine beings who, through union with Christ, are transformed and appointed to rule in the New Creation forever.

What do Jesus’s prayers in John 17 reveal about the future of those who follow Him?

How does the biblical term elohim help clarify what believers become after death and resurrection?

What does 1 Corinthians 15 teach about the nature of the resurrection body?

How does David A. Burnett’s research deepen our understanding of Paul’s view of deification?

How should the promise of glorified embodiment shape our understanding of salvation?

 

Join us next time on Theology Thursday, where our lesson will explore: Joseph the Dreamer: Discovering the Depths of a Beloved Biblical Figure

If you found this podcast insightful, please subscribe and leave us a review, then encourage your friends and family to join us and come along tomorrow for another day of  ‘Wisdom-Trek,  Creating a Legacy.’       

Thank you so much for allowing me to be your guide, mentor, and, most importantly,   I am your friend as I serve you through this Wisdom-Trek podcast and journal.

As we take this Trek of life together, let us always:         

Liv Abundantly.       

Love Unconditionally.      

Listen Intentionally.      

Learn Continuously.      

Lend to others Generously.       

Lead with Integrity.       

Leave a Living Legacy Each Day.       

I am Guthrie Chamberlain, reminding you to,   “Keep Moving Forward, Enjoy your journey, and create a great day, every day!  Join me next time for more daily wisdom!

Welcome to Wisdom-Trek with Gramps! I am Guthrie Chamberlain, and we are on Day two thousand seven hundred seventy of our Trek. The Purpose of Wisdom-Trek is to create a legacy of wisdom, to seek out discernment and insights, and to boldly grow where few have chosen to grow before.

Today, we continue our grand historical survey in Psalm One Hundred Five. We are picking up the narrative where we left off, covering verses sixteen through thirty-six in the New Living Translation.

In our previous trek through the first fifteen verses of this psalm, we established the foundation. We saw God making an unbreakable covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. We saw the Patriarchs as "protected wanderers," a tiny group of strangers moving through a hostile world, yet guarded by a God who rebuked kings for their sake, saying, "Do not touch my chosen people."

But now, the story takes a dark and dramatic turn. The camera shifts from the open pastures of Canaan to the dungeons of Egypt. The protection of the Patriarchs gives way to the slavery of the nation.

In this section, we will see that God is not just the God of the promise; He is the God of the process. We will witness how He orchestrates famine, imprisonment, and political intrigue to position His people. And then, we will witness one of the greatest cosmic battles in history, as Yahweh enters the ring against the gods of Egypt in a campaign of de-creation known as the Plagues.

This is not just history; it is spiritual warfare on a national scale. So, let us descend into Egypt and watch the God of Abraham go to war for His children.

He called for a famine on the land of Canaan, cutting off their food supply.  Then he sent a man to Egypt ahead of them— Joseph, who was sold as a slave.  They bruised his feet with fetters and placed his neck in an iron collar.  Until the time came to fulfill his dreams, the Lord tested Joseph’s character.  Then Pharaoh sent for him and set him free; the ruler of the nation opened his prison door.  Joseph was put in charge of all the king’s household; he became ruler over all the king’s possessions.  He could instruct the king’s aides as he pleased and teach the king’s advisers.

The psalmist begins this section by pulling back the curtain on natural disasters.

Notice the agency here. The famine wasn't an accident of weather patterns. God "called for" (qara) it. He summoned the famine like a servant. This demonstrates Yahweh’s absolute sovereignty over the ecosystem. He breaks the "staff of bread" (as the Hebrew puts it) to move His people geographically.

But before He sent the problem, He sent the solution: "Then he sent a man to Egypt ahead of them—Joseph, who was sold as a slave."

From a human perspective, Joseph was a victim of human trafficking, betrayed by jealous brothers. But from the divine perspective of history, he was "sent" (shalach). God used the sins of the brothers to accomplish the salvation of the family.

However, being "sent" by God does not mean an easy life. The psalmist gives us a gritty detail about Joseph's imprisonment that isn't explicitly in Genesis:

The literal Hebrew here is haunting: "His soul came into iron." The iron of the chains didn't just bind his body; it entered his very being. The suffering was deep, psychological, and crushing.

Why did this happen? "Until the time came to fulfill his dreams, the Lord tested Joseph’s character."

Literally, "The Word of the Lord tested him." The "Word" here refers to the prophetic dreams Joseph received as a boy. Those promises of greatness tested him because his reality (the iron collar) contradicted the promise (the ruling sheaf). This is the crucible of faith: holding onto what God said when everything you see screams the opposite.

But the "appointed time" always arrives. "Then Pharaoh sent for him and set him free..."

In a single day, Joseph went from the prisoner with the bruised feet to the Prime Minister of the superpower of the ancient world.

This is a stunning reversal. The young Hebrew slave is now teaching Wisdom (chokmah) to the elders of Egypt. He is instructing the senators of the Nile. God placed His agent at the very top of the Gentile hierarchy to prepare a nursery for the nation of Israel.

Then Israel arrived in Egypt; Jacob lived as a foreigner in the land of Ham.  And the Lord multiplied the people of Israel until they became too mighty for their enemies.  Then he turned the Egyptians against his people and made them deal falsely with his servants.

The stage is now set. Jacob (Israel) moves his entire clan into the "land of Ham" (a poetic name for Egypt).

What happens next is the fulfillment of the Creation Mandate and the Abrahamic Promise: "And the Lord multiplied the people of Israel until they became too mighty for their enemies."

This supernatural fertility was a threat to the cosmic order of Egypt. Pharaoh was supposed to be the maintainer of Ma'at (order), but this foreign population was growing out of control.

Then, we have a verse that troubles many modern readers: "Then he turned the Egyptians against his people and made them deal falsely with his servants."

Did God make the Egyptians sin?

In the Ancient Israelite worldview, God is the ultimate Director of the drama. While the Egyptians acted according to their own sinful fears and nationalistic pride, the psalmist attributes the shift in history to God. By blessing Israel so abundantly, God provoked the hatred of Egypt.

More deeply, this sets the stage for the conflict of the gods. If Egypt had just remained friendly, Israel would have assimilated and never left. They would have become Egyptians. To get them out, the nest had to become thorny. God allowed the political winds to shift to prepare for the Exodus.

He sent his servant Moses, along with Aaron, whom he had chosen.  They performed miraculous signs among the Egyptians, and wonders in the land of Ham.  The Lord sent darkness and made the land black, but the Egyptians argued against his commands.  He turned their waters into blood, poisoning all the fish.  Then frogs overran the land, even invading the king’s bedrooms.  When the Lord spoke, flies descended on them, and gnats swarmed across Egypt.  Instead of rain, he sent hail, and flashes of lightning overwhelmed the land.  He ruined their grapevines and fig trees and shattered all the trees.  He spoke, and hordes of locusts came— young locusts beyond number.  They ate up everything green in the land, destroying all the crops.  Then he killed the oldest son in each Egyptian home, the pride and joy of every family.

Now, the war begins.

God sends His generals: "He sent his servant Moses, along with Aaron, whom he had chosen."

They are commissioned to perform "miraculous signs" (literally, "the words of His signs"). These are not just magic tricks; they are theological messages.

In the Divine Council worldview, the Plagues of Egypt were not just random disasters. They were a systematic dismantling of the Egyptian pantheon. As Exodus Twelve, verse twelve says, "Against all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgment." Yahweh is going to war against the spiritual powers that held Egypt—and Israel—in bondage.

The psalmist lists the plagues, but interestingly, he doesn't follow the exact chronological order of Exodus. He groups them for poetic impact.

He starts with the ninth plague: "The Lord sent darkness and made the land black, but the Egyptians argued against his commands."

Why start with Darkness? Because it is the ultimate attack on the chief god of Egypt: Ra, the Sun God. By blotting out the sun, Yahweh demonstrated that Ra was powerless. He de-created Egypt, turning it back into the primeval chaos of darkness.

Then, He attacks the life-source of Egypt: "He turned their waters into blood, poisoning all the fish."

This is an assault on Hapi, the god of the Nile. The river that was supposed to be the source of life became a source of death.

Next comes a grotesque invasion: "Then frogs overran the land, even invading the king’s bedrooms."

This mocks Heket, the frog-headed goddess of fertility and birth. Frogs were considered sacred and couldn't be killed. Yahweh makes their "sacred" symbol a repulsive curse that hops into Pharaoh’s bed, violating the sanctity of the royal palace.

Then, the air itself becomes a weapon: "When the Lord spoke, flies descended on them, and gnats swarmed across Egypt."

The gods of healing and protection could not stop the lice and the flies. The magicians of Egypt, who tried to replicate the earlier signs, bowed out here, admitting, "This is the finger of God."

Next, the assault from the sky: "Instead of rain, he sent hail, and flashes of lightning overwhelmed the land. He ruined their grapevines and fig trees..."

Egypt receives very little rain; they depended on the Nile. But here, Yahweh brings a storm from the north. This is a challenge to Nut, the sky goddess, and Seth, the god of storms. Yahweh destroys their economy—the vines and the figs.

Then, the final stripping of the land: "He spoke, and hordes of locusts came... They ate up everything green in the land."

Whatever the hail left, the locusts finished. This is the reversal of creation. The green earth is stripped bare.

And finally, the ultimate blow: "Then he killed the oldest son in each Egyptian home, the pride and joy of every family."

The "oldest son" (the firstborn) was the strength of the family. But for Pharaoh, the firstborn was the successor to the throne—a god-king in waiting. By killing the firstborn of Pharaoh, Yahweh broke the line of succession of the "divine" rulers of Egypt. He proved that Pharaoh had no power over life and death. Only Yahweh determines who lives and who dies.

This section of Psalm One Hundred Five is a terrifying but triumphant account of Sovereignty.

It teaches us that God’s plan often involves a descent before the ascent.

Joseph had to wear the iron collar before he could wear the gold chain.

Israel had to groan in slavery before they could sing on the shores of the Red Sea.

It also teaches us that God is the Master of History. He calls the famine. He sends the man. He turns the hearts. He commands the locusts.

When we look at the chaos in our own world—political upheaval, economic trouble, or personal "iron collars"—we can take comfort in this: The God of Joseph and the God of Moses is still on the throne. He is writing a story that ends in liberation, even if the chapter we are in right now is full of darkness and frogs.

Join us tomorrow as we finish this psalm and see how God brings His people out with joy and silver and gold!

If you found this podcast insightful, please subscribe and leave us a review, then encourage your friends and family to join us and come along tomorrow for another day of, ‘Wisdom-Trek, Creating a Legacy.’

Thank you so much for allowing me to be your guide, mentor, and, most importantly, I am your friend as I serve you through this Wisdom-Trek podcast and journal.   As we take this Trek of life together, let us always: Live Abundantly.   Love Unconditionally.   Listen Intentionally.   Learn Continuously.   Lend to others Generously.   Lead with Integrity.   Leave a Living Legacy Each Day.

I am Guthrie Chamberlain, reminding you to’ Keep Moving Forward,’ ‘Enjoy your Journey,’ and ‘Create a Great Day…Everyday! See you next time for more daily wisdom!

 

Day 2769– A Baby at Our Age - Get Serious! Luke 1:5-25

Putnam Church Message – 11/30/2025

Last week, we began a year-long study of Luke’s Narrative of the Good News in a message titled: “Only the Best -A Gospel of Excellence: Thanksgiving for the Truth.”

This week is the first Sunday of Advent as we build anticipation of the coming Messiah. Today's passage is the beginning of a story titled: “A Baby at our Age? Get Serious!” “HOPE IN THE SILENCE — GOD STILL SPEAKS” Our Core verses for this week will be Luke 1:5-25, found on page 1587 of your Pew Bibles.

As we enter this Advent season, we come with hearts longing for Your presence. We remember that for four hundred years, Israel waited in silence—yet You were not absent; You were preparing the fullness of time. Today, remind us that hope is not just an emotion—it is a person, Jesus Christ, our Savior. Help us listen for Your voice, even when life feels silent. Open our hearts as we study Your Word and renew our strength through the power of hope.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

There are moments in life when God feels silent. We pray and wait... and nothing changes. Perhaps there are some here today who feel that now. We wonder, “Has God forgotten me? Does He still hear my prayers?”

Israel wondered the same.

The story of Christ doesn’t begin with shepherds, angels, or even a manger. Luke begins with silence — over four hundred years without a single prophetic word. No visions. No miracles. No new Scriptures. No prophets. A long, painful pause from heaven. Yet… not a single promise was forgotten.

In fact, the last words heard from God in the Old Testament were not judgment, but a promise and a hope:

God’s final words were not anger—but restoration. Not rejection—but reconciliation. God ended the Old Testament with a promise of hope.

But hope often begins in the dark.

For four hundred years, the promise remained…but remained unanswered. Israel waited. And still waited. Empires rose and fell. Kings came and went. Priests became corrupt. Rome took control. Spiritual life faded. And many began to believe God had forsaken them…

But then — Luke 1:5 breaks the silence.

It begins not with a king… but an ordinary priest. Not in a palace… but in the temple. Not with political power… but with the heart of an older married couple.

And in this quiet, hidden place… hope was reborn.

Those words would send chills down the spines of first-century Jews. Herod was a brutal, paranoid ruler. He wasn’t even Jewish by blood—but Rome put him on the throne as a puppet king. He built monuments to his own glory—but didn’t hesitate to kill his own family if he felt threatened.

The spiritual leaders of Israel were equally corrupt. The priesthood had become a political machine. The temple was often abused for financial gain. Righteous people were outnumbered. Faithful worshipers felt powerless. Hope was nearly gone.

Imagine walking through Jerusalem at night. The lamps lining the street are burning dimly. Some have already gone out. The darkness grows thicker with each step. That was Israel under Herod. The lamp of faith flickered, but felt too weak to shine.

Today, many feel the same way. We scroll through news headlines—war, violence, corruption, division. Morality seems optional. Truth feels negotiable. Families feel strained. Trust in institutions is fading. Even some churches have drifted into confusion.

Like ancient Israel… our age is desperate for hope.

Say: “This candle is built to shine… but without flame, it remains dark. It was made for light — but without power, it cannot fulfill its purpose.”

Say: “Hope is like this flame. When hope returns, everything changes.”

We expect God to work through prophets and kings—but instead, Luke zooms in on an ordinary priest named Zachariah and his wife Elizabeth.

They were faithful. They were blameless. They served God.

But they had one deep wound… they were childless.

In ancient Israel, childlessness was not only emotionally painful, but socially and spiritually humiliating. Many whispered, “What sin did they commit?” Others assumed God had cursed them. Every baby shower, every family gathering, every passing year was a reminder—your hope is gone.

And yet… Luke says they were righteous before God.

Imagine Elizabeth sitting alone in her courtyard, listening to other children play in the street. Each laugh was beautiful… but also painful. Each year she aged, hope seemed to fade. In a society centered around family legacy, she felt overlooked. Forgotten.

Maybe some people here today can relate. You’ve prayed for years — over your health, your children, your finances, your relationships — and nothing seems to change.

But hear this clearly:

Sometimes God does His best>work when our strength is gone.

In those days, priests were chosen by lot to serve in the holy place. With 20,000 priests, Zachariah waited his entire life for this one opportunity.

Object Lesson: Bring a handful of slips of paper marked “Zachariah.”

Say: “This was probably the only time in his life that Zachariah would be chosen. He likely thought it was an honor—but nothing more. But God saw more.”

When Gabriel appeared in the temple, Zachariah’s daily routine turned into a divine interruption. This wasn’t a vague feeling, an inner voice, or even a dream. It was a celestial messenger standing right beside the altar of incense — in the holiest place Zachariah had ever been. The silence of four centuries was shattered in a single moment.

And what was Heaven’s first message after 400 years?

Not judgment… not rebuke… not condemnation — but hope.

Now imagine Zachariah’s very human response. After decades of unanswered prayers, disappointment, and fading hope… how could this not be shocking? In fact, if Zachariah had spoken freely, we might imagine him blurting out something like:

It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t rebellion. It was… human.

It was the reaction of someone who wanted to believe — but found it hard to dare hope again. Here is here actual response in Luke 1:18: Zechariah said to the angel, “How can I be sure this will happen? I’m an old man now, and my wife is also well along in years.”

Hope can be scary when we’ve tasted disappointment.

Sometimes, the hardest miracle to believe is the one we prayed for the longest.

When dreams die slowly, they don’t always die with bitterness.

Sometimes they die with quiet resignation.

And like Zachariah… we simply move on.

But Gabriel responds with gentle firmness:

“I am Gabriel. I stand in the very presence of God.” (Luke 1:19)

In other words:

I just came from the Throne Room.

And God said your hope is not dead.”

Many of us have a prayer that we’ve silently stopped praying. Not because we’ve turned from God — but because we’ve quietly stopped hoping.

It might be:

A fractured relationship

A health diagnosis

A prodigal child

A financial hardship

A persistent fear

A dream that feels “too late.”

And perhaps if Gabriel appeared to us, we, too, might say:

But that is precisely where hope is strongest.

Hope asks us to believe God despite what we see.

This humorous and deeply human moment reminds us:

Hope flourishes best not when certainty is strong, but when circumstances are weak.

God had not forgotten Zachariah.

And He has not forgotten you.

Not only would they have a son, but this child would prepare the way for the Messiah Himself. Their waiting had not been wasted. Their prayers had not been lost. God had heard every word.

Because of his doubt, Zachariah is struck silent.

Sometimes God must quiet us… to help us finally listen.

If you plant a seed, you don’t see life immediately. It seems dead and buried. But underground — God is working.

Hospitals have waiting rooms, courtrooms have waiting areas, and even airports have waiting lounges. Waiting does not mean forgotten. Often, it means preparation.

Hold up an Acorn and say:

If I plant this acorn in soil and I water and nourish it, waiting with expectation, then I will soon see a small sprout that, if cared for, will turn into a mighty oak.

Zachariah leaves the temple mute — but his silence spoke volumes. His voice was gone… but his faith was being strengthened. His nine months of silence reflected the 400 years of prophetic silence.

God was preparing his voice to carry a greater message.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth responds not with doubt — but with joy:

“How kind the Lord is!” she exclaimed. “He has taken away my disgrace of having no children.” (Luke 1:25 NLT)

Sometimes, the difference between hope and despair is simply this:

Show a sealed envelope:

When God Seems Silent — He Is Still Working

Silence does not mean absence. God often works most powerfully when we cannot see Him.

Picture a young believer praying:

Do You see me? Do You care?”

Heaven seems quiet, but God may reply…

Psalm 27:14 (NLT) — “Wait patiently for the Lord. Be brave and courageous. Yes, wait patiently for the Lord.”

Isaiah 64:4 (NLT) — “No ear has heard and no eye has seen a God like You, who works for those who wait for Him.”

Potters often shape clay in silence. No speech. No music. No rush. Just hands… pressure… shaping… molding. The clay may think nothing is happening — but a masterpiece is in the making.

Our Disappointments May Be Divine Appointments

What feels like “the end” may actually be God’s beginning.

Imagine Elizabeth praying for decades and then quietly deciding,

But what she thought was a buried dream was actually a planted seed.

If we asked her after John’s birth, she might have testified:

Romans 5:3–4 (NLT) — “We can rejoice… when we run into problems and trials, for we know they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation.”

Genesis 50:20 (NLT) — “You intended to harm me, but God intended it all for good.”

After surviving the horrors of a concentration camp, Corrie famously said:

Show a piece of broken pottery and say:

Sometimes God restores us in ways stronger than we were before....

Welcome to Wisdom-Trek with Gramps! I am Guthrie Chamberlain, and we are on Day two thousand seven hundred sixty-eight of our Trek. The Purpose of Wisdom-Trek is to create a legacy of wisdom, to seek out discernment and insights, and to boldly grow where few have chosen to grow before.

The title for today’s Wisdom-Trek is: The God of History – The Unbreakable Oath and the Protected Wanderers.

Today, we turn a new page in our journey through the Psalter. We are stepping into the historical landscape of Psalm One Hundred Five, covering the opening movement, verses one through fifteen, in the New Living Translation.

To understand where we are, we need to look back at the trail we have just hiked.

In Psalm One Hundred Three, we looked inward. We heard David command his own soul to bless the Lord for His grace, forgiveness, and fatherly compassion. It was a psalm of personal redemption.

In Psalm One Hundred Four, we looked upward and outward. We saw God as the Cosmic Architect, robed in light, playing with Leviathan, and feeding the lions. It was a psalm of creation and nature.

Now, Psalm One Hundred Five asks us to look backward. It shifts our focus from Creation to History. It tells us that the God who built the universe is also the God who orchestrates the rise and fall of nations to keep His promises to a specific family. This psalm is a recounting of the Covenant.

It reminds us that our faith is not based on abstract philosophy or feelings; it is based on things that actually happened in space and time. It is the story of how Yahweh, the Most High God, stepped into the timeline of humanity to carve out a people for Himself.

So, let us open the archives of heaven and remember the story that defines us.

The first segment is: The Liturgy of Storytelling: Making His Deeds Known.

Psalm One Hundred Five: verses one through four.

Give thanks to the Lord and proclaim his greatness. Let the whole world know what he has done.  Sing to him; yes, sing his praises. Tell everyone about his wonderful deeds.  Exult in his holy name; rejoice, you who worship the Lord.  Search for the Lord and for his strength; continually seek him.

The psalm begins with a burst of imperative commands. The psalmist is rallying the troops, not for a battle, but for a proclamation.

The phrase "proclaim his greatness" is literally "call upon His name." In the Bible, calling on the name of the Lord is an act of public worship and dependence. It is identifying yourself by His name.

But notice the target audience: "Let the whole world know what he has done."

The Hebrew word for "world" here is ammim—the peoples or the nations. This is crucial for our Ancient Israelite worldview. Remember, since the Tower of Babel (Genesis Eleven), the nations were disinherited and placed under the authority of lesser spiritual beings (Deuteronomy Thirty-two: eight). But here, the psalmist commands Israel to go back to those nations and announce the deeds of Yahweh.

This is evangelism through history. We don't just tell the world "God loves you"; we tell the world "what He has done." We recount the Exodus, the conquest, and the miracles. We give evidence.

The word "wonderful deeds" (niphla’ot) refers to acts that are humanly impossible—supernatural interventions. We are to be the storytellers of the miraculous.

Then, the focus turns to the heart of the worshiper: "Exult in his holy name; rejoice, you who worship the Lord."

To "exult" means to glory or boast. We are to be proud of our God. In a world full of idols and false narratives, we boast in the name of Yahweh.

This command to "seek" (baqash) implies an active, desperate pursuit. We seek His "strength" (oz)—perhaps referring to the Ark of the Covenant, which was often called God's strength. But note the frequency: "continually." We don't just find God once and retire; we seek His face every single day. History is the fuel for this daily seeking. When we look back at what He did, we find the strength to seek Him for what we need now.

The second segment is: The Command to Remember: The God of Judgment.

Psalm One Hundred Five: verses five through seven.

Remember the wonders he has performed, his miracles, and the rulings he has given,  you children of his servant Abraham, you descendants of Jacob, his chosen ones.  He is the Lord our God. His justice is seen in all the earth.

Now comes the central intellectual command of the psalm: "Remember..."

The Hebrew word is zakar. As we have discussed before, biblical remembrance is not just mental recall; it is bringing the significance of a past event into the present moment. It is letting the past shape your current reality.

What are we to remember?

His Wonders: The supernatural signs.

His Miracles: The "tokens" or proofs of His power.

The Rulings He has Given: Literally, "the judgments of His mouth."

This address is specific: "you children of his servant Abraham, you descendants of Jacob, his chosen ones."

The psalmist is talking to the Covenant Family. He grounds their identity in their genealogy. They are not just random people; they are the "seed" (zera) of Abraham. This takes us straight back to Genesis Twelve. When God called Abraham, He created a new family to be His portion, separate from the nations that were under the other gods.

And because of this, verse seven makes a massive claim: "He is the Lord our God. His justice is seen in all the earth."

"He is Yahweh our Elohim."

This is a statement of loyalty. But the second half is a statement of jurisdiction: "His judgments are in all the earth."

Even though the nations worship other gods, Yahweh’s judicial decisions apply everywhere. When He judged Egypt (one of the "nations"), He proved that His authority was not limited to Canaan. He can cross borders. He can judge the gods of Egypt (Exodus Twelve: twelve) and the gods of Babylon. There is no square inch of the planet where His writ does not run.

The third segment is: The Unbreakable Oath: The Covenant of Land.

Psalm One Hundred Five: verses eight through eleven.

He always stands by his covenant— the commitment he made to a thousand generations.  This is the covenant he made with Abraham and the oath he swore to Isaac.  He confirmed it to Jacob as a decree, and to the people of Israel as an everlasting covenant:  "I will give you the land of Canaan as your special possession."

Here is the bedrock of Israel’s existence, and indeed, the bedrock of our spiritual heritage: The Covenant.

The Hebrew puts the emphasis on the object: "He remembers forever His covenant." God cannot forget it because it is an expression of His character.

Literally, "the Word He commanded." This wasn't a negotiation; it was a unilateral decree. And "a thousand generations" is a Hebrew idiom for eternity. It means the deal never expires.

The psalmist traces the lineage of this legal contract:

Abraham: The original cut of the covenant (Genesis Fifteen and Seventeen).

Isaac: The oath sworn to the son of promise, bypassing Ishmael (Genesis Twenty-six).

Jacob: The confirmation to the grandson, bypassing Esau (Genesis Twenty-eight).

Israel: The collective nation.

Notice the progression. It starts as a promise, becomes an oath (shebuah), then a decree (choq—statute), and finally an everlasting covenant (berit olam). It gets more solid and legally binding with every generation.

And what is the content of this covenant? "I will give you the land of Canaan as your special possession."

Why is the Land so important? Why does God care about real estate?

In the Divine Council worldview, the Land of Canaan was the beachhead. Since the nations were under the dominion of hostile spiritual powers, God needed a physical territory—a holy zone—where He could dwell with His people and launch His plan to reclaim the rest of the world. Canaan was to be the "Eden restored," the headquarters of Yahweh’s kingdom on earth.

The phrase "special possession" (chebel) literally means a "measuring line" or an "allotment." Just as the other nations were "allotted" to the sons of God (Deuteronomy Thirty-two: eight), Canaan was allotted to Jacob as Yahweh’s personal estate.

The fourth segment is: The Protected Wanderers: Prophets in a Foreign Land.

Psalm One Hundred Five: verses twelve through fifteen.

He said this when they were few in number, a tiny group of strangers in Canaan.  They wandered from nation to nation, from one kingdom to another.  Yet he did not let anyone oppress them. He warned kings on their behalf:  "Do not touch my chosen people, and do not hurt my prophets."

The psalmist takes us back to the early days of Genesis, describing the vulnerability of the Patriarchs.

"Few in number" is literally "men of number"—meaning they were so few you could easily count them. They were statistically insignificant.   Moreover, they were "strangers" (gerim). This means resident aliens. They had no legal status, no army, and no land rights (except for the burial cave Abraham bought). They were living in a land that was legally theirs by divine decree, but practically occupied by Canaanites.

This describes the nomadic life of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob moving between the Canaanite city-states and down to Egypt and Philistia. They were homeless wanderers. In the ancient world, a person without a clan or a city was incredibly vulnerable. They could be killed, enslaved, or robbed with no consequences.

This refers to specific incidents in Genesis.

He warned Pharaoh when he took Sarah (Genesis Twelve).

He warned Abimelech of Gerar regarding Sarah and later Rebekah (Genesis Twenty).

He warned Laban not to harm Jacob (Genesis Thirty-one).

God acted as their invisible bodyguard. He enforced a spiritual diplomatic immunity.

And here is the famous decree: "Do not touch my chosen people, and do not hurt my prophets."

The phrase "chosen people" is literally "My Anointed Ones" (Mashiach). This is fascinating because typically, "anointed" refers to kings or priests. The Patriarchs were neither in the formal sense. Yet, God viewed them as royalty. They were the bearers of the Royal Seed. They were set apart by the Holy Spirit.

He also calls them "my prophets" (nabi). We often think of prophets as people who predict the future, like Isaiah. But the first person in the Bible explicitly called a "prophet" was Abraham (Genesis Twenty: seven). A prophet is simply a spokesperson for God, someone who has access to the Divine Council. Abraham interceded for Sodom; he spoke with Yahweh.

God’s warning to the kings of the nations was clear: "These men may look like homeless nomads, but they are VIPs in my Kingdom. If you touch them, you answer to Me."

Psalm One Hundred Five, verses one through fifteen, establishes the foundation of our historical faith.

It teaches us that God works through Process. He gave the promise of the Land to Abraham, but it would be hundreds of years before his descendants actually possessed it. In the meantime, they were wanderers.

But it also teaches us about Protection. Even when God’s people are "few in number," "strangers," and living in hostile territory, they are under the surveillance of the King.

God rebuked Pharoahs and Kings to protect a single family, because that family carried the seed of the Messiah. He was playing the long game.

As we walk our trek today, we may feel like strangers in this world. We may feel "few in number" amidst a culture that does not know God. But we are part of this same story. We are the spiritual seed of Abraham (Galatians Three: twenty-nine). The Covenant stands. And the same God who said "Do not touch my anointed ones" is watching over your life today.

So, proclaim His greatness. Remember His wonders. And rest in the security of His unbreakable oath.

If you found this podcast insightful, please subscribe and leave us a review, then encourage your friends and family to join us and come along tomorrow for another day of, ‘Wisdom-Trek, Creating a Legacy.’

Thank you so much for allowing me to be your guide, mentor, and, most importantly, I am your friend as I serve you through this Wisdom-Trek podcast and journal.   As we take this Trek of life together, let us always: Live Abundantly.   Love Unconditionally.   Listen Intentionally.   Learn Continuously.   Lend to others Generously.   Lead with Integrity.   Leave a Living Legacy Each Day.

I am Guthrie Chamberlain, reminding you to’ Keep Moving Forward,’ ‘Enjoy your Journey,’ and ‘Create a Great Day…Everyday! See you next time for more daily wisdom!

 

Welcome to Wisdom-Trek with Gramps! I am Guthrie Chamberlain, and we are on Day two thousand seven hundred sixty-seven of our Trek. The Purpose of Wisdom-Trek is to create a legacy of wisdom, to seek out discernment and insights, and to boldly grow where few have chosen to grow before.

Today, we reach the glorious conclusion of our expedition through the cathedral of creation, Psalm One Hundred Four. We are trekking through the final movement, verses twenty-four through thirty-five, in the New Living Translation.

In our previous journeys through this masterpiece, we have witnessed Yahweh in many roles. We saw Him as the Cosmic Architect in the first section, stretching out the heavens like a tent and riding the storm clouds as His chariot. Then, in the middle section, we saw Him as the Provider and Timekeeper, taming the chaotic waters to feed the wild donkeys, planting the cedars of Lebanon, and choreographing the dance of the sun and moon so that lions and humans could share the earth in peace.

Now, as we approach the end of the psalm, the psalmist steps back to look at the whole picture. He is overwhelmed not just by the power of creation, or the utility of it, but by the sheer Wisdom and Joy of it.

We will see God playing with sea monsters. We will learn that the breath in our lungs is on loan from the Spirit of God. And finally, we will confront the one thing that mars this perfect picture—human sin—and hear the psalmist’s radical solution for restoring the harmony of Eden.

So, let us take one last look at this wonderful world and bless the Creator who renews the face of the earth.

O Lord, what a variety of things you have made! In wisdom you have made them all. The earth is full of your creatures.  Here is the ocean, vast and wide, teeming with life of every kind, both large and small.  See the ships sailing along, and Leviathan, which you made to play in the sea.

The psalmist pauses in sheer wonder. After listing the birds, the goats, the lions, and the humans, he exclaims: "O Lord, what a variety of things you have made! In wisdom you have made them all."

The word "variety" (or "manifold works") speaks to the endless creativity of God. He didn't just make one type of tree or one type of animal. He filled the earth with diversity. And the tool He used to craft this complexity was Wisdom (Chokmah).

In Proverbs Chapter Eight, Wisdom is personified as the master craftsman at God’s side during creation. Here, the psalmist acknowledges that the ecosystem isn't just a happy accident; it is an engineered masterpiece. The earth is "full of your creatures"—literally, "full of Your possessions" (qinyan). Every squirrel, every bacteria, every whale belongs to Him.

Then, the psalmist turns his eyes to the most terrifying part of the ancient map: The Ocean.

In the Ancient Israelite worldview, the sea was often a symbol of chaos and death. It was the realm of the unknown. But here, the psalmist sees it as God's aquarium. It is "teeming" (creeping) with innumerable life.

And then, we meet two occupants of the sea: "See the ships sailing along, and Leviathan, which you made to play in the sea."

This mention of Leviathan is structurally explosive. In the mythology of Israel’s neighbors—the Canaanites and Babylonians—Leviathan (or Lotan or Tiamat) was a terrifying, multi-headed chaos dragon. He was the enemy of the gods. In those myths, the creator god had to fight a desperate war to kill the sea monster in order to bring order to the world.

But look at how the psalmist treats Leviathan here. There is no war. There is no sword. There is no fear.

Yahweh created Leviathan "to play" (sahaq).

This demythologizes the monster completely. To the pagan nations, Leviathan was a god-killer. To Yahweh, Leviathan is a rubber ducky. It is a pet. He made this massive sea creature not to fight it, but just to watch it frolic in the waves.

This is a supreme statement of sovereignty. God is so powerful that the most terrifying creature in the ancient imagination is merely a toy in His backyard pool. It reminds us that the things we fear—the "monsters" in our lives—are under the complete control of the One who made them.

They all depend on you to give them food as they need it. When you supply it, they gather it. You open your hand to feed them, and they are richly satisfied.  But if you turn away from them, they panic. When you take away their breath, they die and turn back to dust.  When you give them your breath, life is created, and you renew the face of the earth.

The psalmist now moves from the variety of life to the fragility of life. He describes the entire biosphere—from the plankton to the Leviathan to the King of Israel—as being on a permanent IV drip of God's grace.

"They all depend on you..." (Literally, "They all wait with hope upon You").

The image is of animals waiting for the feeder. "You open your hand to feed them, and they are richly satisfied." This is the posture of the universe: mouth open, waiting for God’s hand to open. If He closes His hand, the universe starves.

But the dependence goes deeper than food; it goes to the very essence of existence.

Literally, "You hide Your face, they are terrified." The "Face" of God represents His conscious attention and favor. The moment God stops thinking about a creature, that creature begins to unravel.

The word for "breath" here is ruach. It can mean wind, breath, or Spirit. This connects directly to Genesis Two, verse seven, where God breathed into the dust, and man became a living soul.

The psalmist is saying that the biological life force in every creature is not their own property. It is a loan. We do not "have" a life; we are being "sustained" in life, moment by moment, by the ruach of God. When He decides to call that loan back—"gather their spirit"—the creature instantly collapses back into the dust from which it came.

But the process isn't just one of death; it is one of renewal.

"You send forth Your Spirit (Ruach), they are created (bara)."

This is creation language. The same Spirit that hovered over the waters in Genesis One is the Spirit that ensures the next generation of lions, birds, and humans is born. God is constantly pumping His Spirit into the world to keep it alive. He is "renewing" the face of the ground. Every spring season, every birth, every sunrise is a fresh infusion of the Holy Spirit into the physical world.

This teaches us a profound humility. Every breath I take in the next five seconds is a direct gift from God. If He withdraws His Spirit, I am dust.

May the glory of the Lord continue forever! The Lord takes pleasure in all he has made!  The earth trembles at his glance; the mountains smoke at his touch.  I will sing to the Lord as long as I live. I will praise my God to my last breath!  May all my thoughts be pleasing to him, for I rejoice in the Lord.

Now, the psalmist breaks into a doxology—a declaration of praise.

This echoes the refrain of Genesis One: "And God saw that it was good." The purpose of creation is the Pleasure of God. He enjoys His world! He enjoys the frolicking Leviathan; He enjoys the singing birds. The universe is not a machine running on autopilot; it is a source of delight to its Maker.

But let’s not mistake His pleasure for tameness.

This reminds us of Psalm Ninety-seven and the appearance at Sinai. God is playful with Leviathan, but He is terrifying to the mountains. He remains the dangerous, holy, transcendent King. The creation responds to Him with a mixture of delight and trembling awe.

The psalmist’s response to this God is lifelong devotion: "I will sing to the Lord as long as I live. I will praise my God to my last breath!"

Since God is the one who gives the breath (verse 29), the only appropriate use of that breath is to give it back to Him in praise. As long as the ruach is in my lungs, a song should be on my lips.

This is a beautiful request for communion. The psalmist wants his "meditation" (or musing) to be sweet to God. Just as God takes pleasure in His works, the psalmist takes pleasure in God. It is a reciprocal joy.

Let all sinners vanish from the face of the earth; let the wicked disappear forever.  Let all that I am praise the Lord. Praise the Lord!

We arrive at the final verse, and suddenly, the record scratches. The beautiful nature documentary comes to a screeching halt.

After thirty-four verses of singing birds, playful whales, and glorious mountains, the psalmist suddenly says: "Let all sinners vanish from the face of the earth; let the wicked disappear forever."

Why? Is he just being mean? Has he lost his temper?

No. This verse is actually the theological climax of the entire psalm.

Think about the picture the psalmist has painted. A world of perfect order. A world where everything obeys God. The sun knows when to set. The ocean stays in its boundary. The animals wait on God for food. The angels ride the winds. The whole cosmos is a symphony of obedience and harmony.

Except for one thing. Man.

Sinners. The Wicked.

In the Divine Council worldview, sin is not just breaking a rule; it is Chaos. It is anti-creation. It is the introduction of disorder into God’s ordered house. Sinners are the only creatures in this entire psalm who are out of step with the rhythm of grace. The lions obey; the storms obey; the Leviathan plays. But the wicked rebel.

So, for the creation to be truly "Very Good" again, for the joy of the Lord to be complete, the one element of discord must be removed.

The psalmist is praying for the New Creation. He is praying for the restoration of Eden. He is saying, "Lord, Your world is so beautiful. Please, remove the stain of sin so that it can be perfect again." It is not a prayer of personal vengeance; it is a prayer for cosmic hygiene. He wants the "face of the earth" to be fully renewed (verse 30), and that requires the vanishing of wickedness.

And with that heavy, hopeful prayer, he returns to the beginning:

This final phrase, "Praise the Lord," is the Hebrew word Hallelujah.

Fun fact: This is the very first time the word "Hallelujah" appears in the Bible. It appears at the end of a psalm that celebrates the perfect order of creation and looks forward to the removal of sin.

Psalm One Hundred Four leaves us with a profound vision.

It teaches us that nature is not secular; it is sacred.   It teaches us that Leviathan is God’s pet, and our breath is God’s loan.   It teaches us that the only logical response to being alive is to rejoice in the Lord.

And it teaches us to long for the day when sin will vanish, and the harmony of the garden will be restored.

So today, as you walk your trek, take a deep breath. Feel the air filling your lungs. That is the ruach of God sustaining you. Watch the birds; look at the trees. And join the chorus of creation by letting all that you are praise the Lord. Hallelujah!

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Thank you so much for allowing me to be your guide, mentor, and, most importantly, I am your friend as I serve you through this Wisdom-Trek podcast and journal.   As we take this Trek of life together, let us always: Live Abundantly.   Love Unconditionally.   Listen Intentionally.   Learn Continuously.   Lend to others Generously.   Lead with Integrity.   Leave a Living Legacy Each Day.

I am Guthrie Chamberlain, reminding you to’ Keep Moving Forward,’ ‘Enjoy your Journey,’ and ‘Create a Great Day…Everyday! See you next time for more daily wisdom!