Wisdom-Trek ©

Welcome to Wisdom-Trek with Gramps! I am Guthrie Chamberlain, and we are on Day 2888 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.<#0.5#>

In our previous episode on this grand, historical expedition, we marched through the dramatic midsection of the Great Hallel: Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Six, verses ten through sixteen. We stood alongside the liberated community of Israel as they witnessed the devastating, courtroom judgment executed against the Egyptian pantheon. We watched the Divine Warrior split the primordial chaos waters of the Red Sea, carving a dry, safe highway right through the abyss, and effortlessly shaking off the arrogant, imperial army of Pharaoh like an annoying insect on His sleeve. We closed our trek by following our heavenly Shepherd into the terrifying, uncreated wilderness wasteland, discovering that His Hesed—His fierce, unyielding, and covenant-keeping faithful love—is uniquely durable enough to sustain us through our most parched, desperate chapters.<#0.5#>

Today, we have arrived at the magnificent, soaring crescendo of this ultimate liturgical masterpiece. We are completing our journey through Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Six, by exploring verses seventeen through twenty-six, in the New Living Translation. The antiphonal chant of the temple choir continues to ring out across the stone courts of Jerusalem, with the massive congregation roaring back the rhythmic drumbeat of faith after every single line. The historical narrative now shifts from the survival of the wilderness, to the violent, supernatural conquest of the Promised Land. The psalmist pulls back the cosmic curtain to show us that our ultimate inheritance was secured by a God who systematically dismantles giant rebel kings, remembers us in our deepest human weakness, and universally sustains every living thing from His heavenly throne room. Let us step onto the final ridge of this specific trail, adjust our cosmic lenses, and listen to the final chords of the Great Hallel.<#0.5#>

Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Six: verses seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, and twenty.<#0.5#>

Give thanks to him who struck down mighty kings. His faithful love endures forever. He slaughtered powerful kings. His faithful love endures forever. Sihon king of the Amorites. His faithful love endures forever. Og king of Bashan. His faithful love endures forever.<#0.5#>

The final historical movement of the psalm opens with a thunderous, dual celebration of military and cosmic triumph. “Give thanks to him who struck down mighty kings... He slaughtered powerful kings... Sihon king of the Amorites... Og king of Bashan.”<#0.5#>

To fully unlock the massive, explosive spiritual warfare embedded in these specific names, we must integrate the profound insights of the Ancient Israelite divine council worldview, as masterfully taught by Doctor Michael S. Heiser. To a modern reader, the mention of Sihon and Og can feel like a repetitive, boring footnote from an ancient Near Eastern border dispute. We might wonder why a psalm focused on the eternal love of God would spend so much time naming dead kings. But to the ancient Israelite pilgrim marching up Mount Zion, these names were filled with holy terror, and monumental cosmic victory. These were not ordinary human rulers; they were the terrifying, giant gatekeepers of the cosmic rebellion.<#0.5#>

We must look back to the foundational blueprint of cosmic geography recorded in Deuteronomy, chapter thirty-two. When the Most High disinherited the seventy nations at the Tower of Babel due to their rebellion, He placed them under the jurisdiction of lesser spiritual beings—the sons of God, the territorial elohim. These principalities subsequently mutinied, demanding worship for themselves, and establishing dark, spiritual strongholds across the earth. But the most concentrated, defiant center of this rebellion was located in the north, in the region of Bashan, at the foot of Mount Hermon—the exact geographic site where the rebel watchers originally descended to stage their coup against the Almighty.<#0.5#>

Sihon, the king of the Amorites, and Og, the king of Bashan, ruled over this demonic geography. According to the historical records of Moses, Og was a literal remnant of the giant Rephaim, possessing an iron bedstead that was over thirteen feet long! In the ancient mindset, the Rephaim were the physical, and spiritual, anomalies produced by the corruption of the Watchers—the Nephilim lineages designed by the rebel gods to contaminate humanity, and permanently block the chosen family of Yahweh from ever establishing the Kingdom of God on earth. Bashan was poetically recognized as the "place of the serpent," and the literal gate of the underworld.<#0.5#>

When the psalmist declares that Yahweh “struck down mighty kings” and “slaughtered powerful kings,” he is describing a spectacular, cosmic cleansing of the geography. The Divine Warrior marched directly into the teeth of the underworld stronghold, confronted the most monstrous, intimidating avatars of the rebel council, and completely obliterated them. He proved that giant physical stature, demonic lineages, and ancient spiritual fortresses are absolutely nothing but chaff before the wind when the High King of the cosmos extends His hand. And why did He slaughter these terrifying giants? The congregation roars the answer after every name: “His faithful love endures forever.” Love for the covenant family required the violent, total eradication of the supernatural forces that sought to destroy them.<#0.5#>

Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Six: verses twenty-one and twenty-two.<#0.5#>

He gave their land as an inheritance. His faithful love endures forever. A special possession to his servant Israel. His faithful love endures forever.<#0.5#>

Having executed the giant kings and cleared the spiritual contamination from the landscape, the True King performs a monumental, legal act of property reallocation. “He gave their land as an inheritance... a special possession to his servant Israel.”<#0.5#>

This section of the liturgy celebrates the glorious, geographic reversal of the Tower of Babel. The Hebrew word used for inheritance here is nachalah, which refers to a permanent, legally binding family allotment that can never be sold, or stolen. In the cosmic courtroom, the land of Bashan, and the territories of Canaan, had been illegally occupied by the rebel elohim and their corrupt proxies. They had turned the earth into a playground of idolatry, violence, and darkness, claiming that Yahweh had no authority within their boundaries.<#0.5#>

But Yahweh executed a magnificent, sovereign eviction notice. He took the very land that the giant kings had fortified, completely stripped the rebel gods of their titles, and transferred the property deeds over to His segullah—His private, prized, and treasured possession, the family of Israel. The text notes that He handed it over to His “servant Israel.” This language of servitude is beautiful; it implies that Israel does not own the land as an autonomous empire, but holds it as a sacred trust, acting as the loyal stewards of Yahweh’s earthly estate.<#0.5#>

By turning the land of the giants into an inheritance for Israel, the Creator successfully reestablished a beachhead of Eden right in the middle of a disinherited world. Mount Zion became the centralized command center where heaven and earth intersected, a sacred space where the laws, the justice, and the true cosmic order of the Almighty could safely flourish. When the congregation chants, “His faithful love endures forever” after these verses, they are recognizing that their physical homes, their fields, and their security are the direct, tangible evidence of a love that can redefine the boundaries of the planet to protect the family of God.<#0.5#>

Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Six: verses twenty-three, twenty-four, and twenty-five.<#0.5#>

He remembered us in our weakness. His faithful love endures forever. He saved us from our enemies. His faithful love endures forever. He gives food to every living thing. His faithful love endures forever.<#0.5#>

The grand, epic sweep of the liturgy suddenly shifts its perspective in a breathtaking way. The psalmist has spent the entire song looking at massive, macro-realities—the creation of the stars, the division of the seas, and the slaughter of giant kings. But in verse twenty-three, the camera zooms entirely in, capturing the intimate, deeply emotional core of the covenant relationship. “He remembered us in our weakness. His faithful love endures forever. He saved us from our enemies. His faithful love endures forever.”<#0.5#>

The Hebrew word for “weakness” or “low estate” is shiflenu, which refers to a state of being completely crushed, humiliated, marginalized, and brought low. This is a direct look into the mirror of the exile. The Israelites knew what it felt like to be weak. They were a small, physically unimposing nation, surrounded by massive, predatory empires like Assyria and Babylon. They carried the deep, bloody furrows of oppression across their backs. The rebel spiritual principalities constantly mocked them, attempting to argue that their weakness was proof that Yahweh had forgotten them, or that the true King was unable to protect His allotment.<#0.5#>

But the psalmist declares a beautiful, saving truth: the High King of the celestial council “remembered us.” In the biblical narrative, when God remembers, it doesn't mean He suddenly recalls a forgotten thought; it means He moves into active, decisive intervention on behalf of His covenant partner. He looks past the roaring arrogance of the great empires, focuses His eyes upon the quiet suffering of His broken servants, and He steps down from the throne room to execute a rescue mission. He “saved us from our enemies,” proving that our human weakness is never a barrier to His supernatural power. His Hesed is a love that prioritizes the vulnerable, completely overriding the legal accusations of the adversary.<#0.5#>

Then, in verse twenty-five, the psalmist explodes the boundaries of this grace, moving from national salvation to universal, cosmic ecology: “He gives food to every living thing. His faithful love endures forever.”<#0.5#>

This is a magnificent, theological synthesis. The very same God who wields the lightning, parts the Red Sea, and slaughters the giant Rephaim kings, is the very same God who gently bends down every single morning to feed the birds of the air, the beasts of the field, and the micro-organisms of the soil. He provides lechem—nourishment—to all flesh. <#0.5#>

This is a direct, polemical strike against the pagan economies. The surrounding nations believed that they had to work frantically from early morning until late at night, offering expensive sacrifices to appease their capricious fertility gods, just to ensure the crops would grow. But the psalmist reveals that the entire matrix of global creation is entirely sustained by the effortless, generous management of Yahweh. He is the ultimate Provider. He feeds His entire planetary household, not because they have earned it, but simply because His loyal Hesed is the ultimate, life-giving environment that animates all of biology.<#0.5#>

The fourth segment is: The Final Ascent to the God of Heaven<#0.5#>

Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Six: verse twenty-six.<#0.5#>

Give thanks to the God of heaven. His faithful love endures forever.<#0.5#>

The entire epic, twenty-six-verse masterpiece reaches its final, definitive, and roaring punctuation mark: “Give thanks to the God of heaven. His faithful love endures forever.”<#0.5#>

The psalmist concludes the Great Hallel by addressing Yahweh with a magnificent, crowning title: El Hashamayim—the “God of heaven.” This title is loaded with absolute cosmic dominance. Throughout the ancient Near East, the pagan nations bragged about their localized deities, claiming that their gods held authority over specific rivers, specific valleys, or specific cities. But the priests of Israel lift their eyes far above the earthly horizon, bypassing all the middle-management principalities, and they anchor their final praise to the ultimate, uncreated Source of reality.<#0.5#>

The God of heaven is the absolute Commander of the heavenly host, the Supreme Ruler of the Divine Council, who sits enthroned far above the highest dimensions of space and time. From that celestial summit, His vision is total, His authority is seamless, and His decrees are unshakeable. The rebel principalities are completely trapped within the lower, dark boundaries of their impending judgment; but Yahweh rules the entire matrix with effortless, absolute clarity. And the final, thunderous shout of the congregation seals the entire psalm with the ultimate guarantee: “His faithful love endures forever.” The Great Hallel closes exactly how it began, leaving the pilgrims with the rock-solid assurance that the eternal, unyielding Hesed of the God of heaven is the final, defining word over human history, and the human soul.<#0.5#>

The fifth segment is: Mapping the Rhythm of Hesed onto Our Modern Trek<#0.5#>

Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Six, verses seventeen through twenty-six, provides us with a magnificent, unbreakable shield for our minds as we navigate the unique spiritual battles of our daily lives.<#0.5#>

It teaches us that our lives are firmly anchored to a linear, carefully managed history that has already been completely won by our King. The giant obstacles that loom large in your path—the "Sihons" and "Ogs" of anxiety, depression, broken relationships, or systemic cultural pressure—are nothing more than hollow illusions before the face of the Almighty. The Divine Warrior has a flawless track record of crushing giants, and He has already legally evicted the powers of darkness from your inheritance.<#0.5#>

As you walk your trek today, internalize the beautiful, responsive rhythm of the Great Hallel. Train your soul to speak the truth of Hesed over every single piece of data your eyes perceive. When the culture around you brags about its wealth and its secular power, remind yourself that your Lord is the God of gods, and the Lord of lords. When you look at your own human weakness, or feel brought low by the trials of this life, rest securely in the truth that your Father remembers you in your low estate. He sees your suffering, He has compassion on your soul, and He has already executed an overwhelming cosmic buyout to set you free from the custody of the enemy.<#0.5#>

Look at the natural world around you, and see the daily provision of food and breath as a direct, personal love-letter from the Creator. You are not a victim of blind fate, or random accidents. You are the private, prized treasure of the Sovereign Commander. Lift your head high, shake off the spiritual lethargy of this age, and let your life become a continuous, roaring echo of the true assembly. Walk forward with the bold, resilient, and joyful stride of a soul that is completely wrapped in the enduring, eternal, and unshakeable love of the God of heaven.<#0.5#>

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.’<#0.5#>

As we take this Trek of life together, let us always:<#0.5#>

Liv Abundantly,

Love Unconditionally,

Listen Intentionally,

Learn Continuously,

Lend to others Generously,

Lead with Integrity,

Leave a Living Legacy Each Day,<#0.5#>

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!<#0.5#>

 

Welcome to Wisdom-Trek with Gramps! I am Guthrie Chamberlain, and we are on Day 2887 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.<#0.5#>

In our previous episode on this grand, historical journey, we scaled the opening heights of the Great Hallel: Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Six, verses one through nine. We immersed our minds in the grand, cosmic architecture of creation. We stood in the celestial courtroom, and we shouted our praise to the God of gods, and the Lord of lords—the absolute, supreme Sovereign who rules over the entire heavenly host. We saw how His Hesed—His fierce, unyielding, and covenant-keeping faithful love—was the precise engine that skillfully forged the heavens, pinned down the chaotic primordial waters beneath the dry land, and masterfully organized the sun, moon, and stars to govern our days and nights. We learned that the very fabric of physical reality is held together, every single microsecond, by this enduring, loyal affection.<#0.5#>

Today, the grand temple liturgy takes a dramatic, breathtaking turn. The congregation is still standing in the sunlit courts of Jerusalem, and the antiphonal chant continues to echo off the stone walls. But the focus of the song shifts away from the creation of the cosmos, and steps directly onto the blood-soaked soil of human history. We are exploring Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Six, verses ten through sixteen, in the New Living Translation. The psalmist demonstrates that Yahweh’s faithful love is not just an abstract, distant force that manages the stars; it is an active, aggressive, and liberating power that breaks into our physical reality to rescue His people, crush abusive empires, and violently dismantle the rebel spiritual principalities who hold humanity in bondage. Let let us step onto this historic section of the trail, listen to the thunderous roar of the refrain, and watch the Divine Warrior march to war.<#0.5#>

Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Six: verses ten, eleven, and twelve.<#0.5#>

Give thanks to him who killed the firstborn of Egypt. His faithful love endures forever. He brought Israel out from among them. His faithful love endures forever. He acted with a strong hand and powerful arm. His faithful love endures forever.<#0.5#>

The historical narrative explodes into the liturgy with a shocking, deeply unsettling declaration of judgment: “Give thanks to him who killed the firstborn of Egypt. His faithful love endures forever.”<#0.5#>

To the modern, Western mind, linking the death of the Egyptian firstborn with the phrase “His faithful love endures forever” sounds like a massive, moral contradiction. How can an act of mass fatality be described as an expression of love? To resolve this tension, we must view the Exodus through the profound lens of the Ancient Israelite divine council worldview, as masterfully taught by Doctor Michael S. Heiser. We must look back to the cosmic geography of Deuteronomy, chapter thirty-two, where the nations were disinherited by Yahweh, and handed over to the jurisdiction of lesser spiritual beings—the sons of God. Egypt was the premier, terrifying superpower of the ancient world, operating under the direct, dark inspiration of these corrupt, territorial elohim.<#0.5#>

Pharaoh was not viewed merely as a human politician; he was worshiped as an incarnate god—the living proxy, and the physical avatar, of the rebel principalities. For four hundred years, under the direction of these dark forces, Egypt systematically crushed, enslaved, and attempted to completely erase Yahweh’s personal allotment—the family of Israel. The book of Exodus explicitly states that the plagues were not just a leverage play against human economics; they were an open, aggressive execution of judgment against all the gods of Egypt. <#0.5#>

When the Lord struck down the firstborn, He was striking the ultimate, legal root of the empire's legacy, and divine claims. The firstborn son represented the strength, the inheritance, and the future succession of the household, and the throne. By taking the firstborn, Yahweh broke the spiritual backbone of the rebel principalities. He proved that the Egyptian gods were entirely impotent, completely unable to protect their own biological, and spiritual, lineages from the superior authority of the Creator. <#0.5#>

For the oppressed slaves, this act of terrifying justice was the ultimate manifestation of Hesed. Love for the victim requires the decisive execution of justice against the abusive tyrant. The text records the immediate, glorious consequence in verses eleven and twelve: “He brought Israel out from among them... He acted with a strong hand and powerful arm.” <#0.5#>

The language of the “strong hand and powerful arm” is a direct, deliberate polemic against the royal propaganda of Egypt. Pharaoh's monuments always depicted him with an outstretched arm, crushing his enemies. But the psalmist clears the field, declaring that Pharaoh's arm was easily snapped by the true Divine Warrior. Yahweh reached into the dark, heavily fortified territory of the rebel council, grabbed His treasured possession, and physically wrenched them free from the grip of the superpower. He broke the chains of the empire, proving that no spiritual principality can legally hold a prisoner when the Supreme Commander issues a warrant for their release.<#0.5#>

Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Six: verses thirteen, fourteen, and fifteen.<#0.5#>

Give thanks to him who parted the Red Sea. His faithful love endures forever. He led Israel safely through. His faithful love endures forever. But he hurled Pharaoh and his army into the Red Sea. His faithful love endures forever.<#0.5#>

The historical procession moves from the borders of Egypt, directly to the edge of the impossible. “Give thanks to him who parted the Red Sea... He led Israel safely through... But he hurled Pharaoh and his army into the Red Sea.”<#0.5#>

Once again, the congregation responds to each movement of the narrative with the unyielding, rhythmic drumbeat of faith: “His faithful love endures forever.” To fully appreciate the cosmic drama of this moment, we must understand how the ancient world viewed the geography of the sea. In the biblical and ancient Near Eastern mindset, the deep, wild, and untamed waters of the ocean—known as Yamm—represented the terrifying forces of primordial chaos. The sea was considered a chaotic deity, a dark, churning abyss that swallowed human lives, and actively fought against the ordered creation of the Almighty.<#0.5#>

When Israel stood trapped between the advancing chariots of Pharaoh, and the roaring waves of the Red Sea, they were caught between the twin jaws of death: the physical might of the empire, and the spiritual chaos of the abyss. But Yahweh executed a masterclass of cosmic subversion. He didn't just build a bridge over the sea; He violently parted the waters. The literal Hebrew text says He sliced the sea into distinct pieces. He drove back the chaotic deep, carved a highway right through the middle of the abyss, and transformed the very realm of death into a dry, safe corridor of life for His covenant family. He led them safely through, insulating them from the walls of water on either side.<#0.5#>

Then, in verse fifteen, the trap slams shut: “But he hurled Pharaoh and his army into the Red Sea.” <#0.5#>

The Hebrew word for “hurled” is na'ar, which carries the visceral graphic meaning of shaking off a bug, or flipping dirt off your clothes. This is a brilliant, mocking piece of historical sarcasm. Pharaoh had mobilized the entire military industrial complex of the ancient world—hundreds of iron chariots, elite horsemen, and weapons of terror. It was an intimidating display of imperial pride. <#0.5#>

But to the Creator of the cosmos, this terrifying army was nothing more than an annoying insect crawling on His sleeve. With one effortless flick of His wrist, Yahweh simply shook Pharaoh off into the water. The tyrant who had arrogantly commanded that every Hebrew baby boy be drowned in the Nile river, was himself drowned, along with his entire army, in the very chaos waters that his rebel gods claimed to control. The empire was swallowed by the abyss, completely neutralized, and buried beneath the waves, providing an eternal, undeniable proof that the loyal Hesed of Yahweh will violently overthrow any system that attempts to destroy His children.<#0.5#>

Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Six: verse sixteen.<#0.5#>

Give thanks to him who led his people through the wilderness. His faithful love endures forever.<#0.5#>

The section concludes by moving the liberated community away from the shores of victory, and into the long, grueling reality of the desert. “Give thanks to him who led his people through the wilderness. His faithful love endures forever.”<#0.5#>

In the ancient Israelite worldview, the wilderness—the midbar—was not just an empty, quiet desert; it was recognized as uncreated space, a desolate land of spiritual danger, and geographic chaos. It was viewed as the literal domain of dark spirits, predatory beasts, and demonic forces, completely outside the safe, ordered boundaries of civilization. It was the place of testing, hunger, and vulnerability, where a human population could easily vanish into oblivion without a trace.<#0.5#>

Yet, the psalmist records that Yahweh “led his people through” this hostile environment. He didn't abandon them to the elements, and He didn't let the dark forces of the desert consume them. He became their personal Shepherd. He covered them with a pillar of cloud by day to shield them from the blistering, judgment heat of the sun, and He comforted them with a pillar of fire by night to push back the terrifying shadows of the wilderness. He split open the hard rocks to flood the desert with sweet water, and He rained down bread from heaven to satisfy their hunger.<#0.5#>

When the congregation chants, “His faithful love endures forever” after this verse, they are acknowledging that the wilderness season was not an absence of God's love, but the very staging ground for its ultimate expression. The Hesed of Yahweh is durable enough to navigate the most parched, desperate chapters of our history. He doesn't just deliver us from Egypt and leave us to figure out the rest on our own; He walks with us through the wasteland, step by step, transforming our place of vulnerability into a sanctuary of divine intimacy, and preparation.<#0.5#>

Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Six, verses ten through sixteen, provides us with a magnificent, unyielding shield of historical data to protect our minds against the anxieties of our modern walk.<#0.5#>

It teaches us that our God is a Deliverer who actively enters the timeline of our lives to break the power of our oppressors. The corrupt systems of our modern culture, the toxic habits that attempt to hold us in bondage, and the dark spiritual principalities that exploit our weaknesses are completely helpless when the strong hand, and the powerful arm, of the Divine Warrior is extended on our behalf.<#0.5#>

As you walk your trek today, train your soul to adopt the rhythmic, resilient focus of the Great Hallel. When you look back at the dark, painful chapters of your past—your own personal Egypt—do not look at them with shame or terror. Look at them through the lens of redemption. See the moments where your King stepped into your brokenness, cut the cords of your captivity, and shook off the power of your enemies. <#0.5#>

If you are currently standing at the edge of an impossible situation, facing a modern Red Sea with walls of anxiety closing in on every side, look to the Splitter of the Abyss. Trust that His faithful love is actively carving a safe highway through the middle of your chaos. And if you find yourself walking through a dry, lonely wilderness season of life—feeling emotionally parched, or spiritually tested—take comfort in the presence of your Shepherd. You are not lost, and you are not abandoned to the dark forces of the wasteland. Put your absolute hope in His unshakeable Word, brace your mind with the rhythmic assurance of His enduring covenant affection, and walk forward with the steady, joyful stride of a soul that has been permanently set free by the Maker of heaven and earth.<#0.5#>

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.’<#0.5#>

 

Welcome to Wisdom-Trek with Gramps!   I am Guthrie Chamberlain, and we are on Day 2886 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.<#0.5#>

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 PROBLEM OF EVIL: FREE WILL, IMAGERSHIP, AND THE DIVINE DESIGN.<#0.5#>

Though humanity is gifted with free will, we are not omniscient. This limitation creates a fragile balance. We are moral agents with the ability to act, but we often do so without full knowledge of the consequences. This gap between intention and outcome is fertile ground for evil to grow. Some evil is the result of direct rebellion, but much of it emerges from ignorance, misjudgment, or unintended consequences.<#0.5#>

Yahweh alone possesses omniscience. If humans knew all outcomes in advance, their choices would not reflect genuine trust or faith. The decision to follow Yahweh, even with limited knowledge, is a demonstration of allegiance, one that mirrors the loyalty He desires from His divine family as well.<#0.5#>

The first segment is: THE DIVINE REBELLION: WHEN SPIRITUAL IMAGERS TURNED.<#0.5#>

The problem of evil is not limited to humanity. Scripture reveals that spiritual beings, members of Yahweh’s heavenly host, also rebelled. These divine imagers, given authority over the nations (Deuteronomy 32 verses eight and nine and Psalm 82), turned from their mandate and led humanity into darkness. Some, like the sons of God in Genesis 6, crossed boundaries and corrupted creation itself. Others accepted worship and manipulated entire cultures into idolatry, violence, and occult practices.<#0.5#>

These rebellious elohim introduced a different kind of evil, ideological and systemic. They corrupted truth, promoted false gods, and weaponized spiritual influence. Humanity’s rebellion was inflamed by their lies. The result was a world fragmented, oppressed, and bound to powers that were never meant to rule.<#0.5#>

To restrain the damage these beings caused, Yahweh gave Israel the Torah. The Law was not just a set of moral rules. It was a divine firewall. Its rituals, boundaries, and covenant structure created space for holiness and identity amid spiritual chaos. Among the most profound of these rituals was the Day of Atonement, where two goats were chosen: one sacrificed to cleanse the people, and the other sent into the wilderness, symbolically carrying the sins of the nation back to Azazel, a name associated with the wilderness-dwelling rebels.<#0.5#>

This was not superstition. It was spiritual warfare through sacred practice. The Law showed that Yahweh was not passive in the face of evil. He acted decisively to reclaim His people and mitigate the influence of the divine traitors until the fullness of His plan could be revealed in the Messiah.<#0.5#>

The second segment is: WHY YAHWEH ALLOWED THIS SYSTEM.<#0.5#>

The presence of evil in creation is not a sign that Yahweh lost control. Rather, it underscores how seriously He takes relationships. He is not interested in programmed obedience. He desires a family, both human and divine, who freely love Him. The alternative would be a world without evil but also without relationship, without love, without the ability to choose the good.<#0.5#>

The biblical story is filled with the tension between human freedom and divine sovereignty. This tension is not a flaw. It is the setting in which loyalty, repentance, and transformation become meaningful. Yahweh has allowed evil for a time, knowing that through it, those who choose Him do so authentically.<#0.5#>

The third segment is: EVIL, SOVEREIGNTY, AND THE HIGH STAKES OF AGENCY.<#0.5#>

Evil exists not because God is weak, but because He values freedom. His sovereignty is not undermined by our agency. It is demonstrated by His willingness to allow it and still accomplish His purposes. From Eden to the Cross to the final judgment, Scripture presents a God who allows rebellion, intervenes to redeem, and ultimately restores.<#0.5#>

The reality of evil magnifies the seriousness of the decisions we make. We are not passive recipients of fate but active participants in a divine drama. Every moral decision reflects our allegiance. We were created to image Yahweh in how we steward creation, treat others, and respond to evil with courage, righteousness, and hope.<#0.5#>

In CONCLUSION: There is A COSMIC STRUGGLE, A DIVINE INVITATION.<#0.5#>

The existence of evil should not cause despair. Instead, it reminds us of the stakes involved in being made in Yahweh’s image. It reminds us that we live in a story where freedom is real, decisions matter, and redemption is possible.<#0.5#>

Evil is not the final word. Yahweh is not surprised by rebellion, and His plan has always included its defeat. Through the Messiah, humanity is invited into a restored relationship, empowered to reflect the goodness of God even in the presence of darkness. The struggle against evil is the arena in which imagers of God are tested, shaped, and revealed.<#0.5#>

To explore this in further details, consider these DISCUSSION QUESTIONS.<#0.5#>

Why is free will necessary for genuine love and relationships?<#0.5#>

How does the concept of humans as imagers of Yahweh affect how we understand moral responsibility?<#0.5#>

What are some examples where limited knowledge contributes to the existence of evil?<#0.5#>

What role did the rebellion of spiritual beings play in the expansion of evil on Earth?<#0.5#>

How did the Torah, and especially the scapegoat ritual, help Israel resist the influence of the rebellious elohim?<#0.5#>

Join us next Theology Thursday to learn When Myth Remembers: The Case for the Supernatural in History.<#0.5#>

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.’<#0.5#>                         

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.<#0.5#>

As we take this Trek of life together, let us always:<#0.5#>                     

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 2885 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.<#0.5#>

In our previous episode on this grand, poetic landscape, we scaled the magnificent, soaring finale of Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Five, verses fifteen through twenty-one. We witnessed a devastating, razor-sharp polemical assault against the silent, breathless idols of the nations. We watched the psalmist ruthlessly strip away the mystical propaganda of the pagan cultures, exposing their silver and gold statues as completely mute, blind, and deaf. We confronted the terrifying law of spiritual assimilation—realizing that those who place their trust in hollow, manufactured systems will inevitably become just as hollow and spiritually dead as the idols they worship. We closed our trek by stepping into the vibrant, living courts of Jerusalem, joining the unified, roaring anthem of the true assembly, shouting Hallelujah to the living King who dynamically rules the cosmos from His embassy on Mount Zion.<#0.5#>

Today, we transition directly from that daytime temple victory into what is universally recognized as the absolute mountain peak of Hebrew liturgy. We are entering the opening movement of Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Six, verses one through nine, in the New Living Translation. In the ancient Jewish tradition, this masterpiece is known as the “Great Hallel”—the supreme song of praise, traditionally sung during the Passover seder. This psalm takes the theological truths we uncovered in our last episode, and sets them to a beautiful, rhythmic, and antiphonal chant designed to reshape our entire understanding of reality. As we step onto this new trail, we will hear the thunderous voice of the congregation responding to every single line of divine truth with an unyielding, cosmic refrain. Let let us adjust our lenses, quiet our hearts, and join the grand procession.<#0.5#>

Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Six: verses one, two, and three.<#0.5#>

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good! His faithful love endures forever. Give thanks to the God of gods. His faithful love endures forever. Give thanks to the Lord of lords. His faithful love endures forever.<#0.5#>

The liturgy opens with a majestic, triadic call to worship that establishes the absolute, unrivaled supremacy of the Creator. We hear the temple leader shout the declaration, and the massive congregation roars back the eternal echo: “His faithful love endures forever.”<#0.5#>

To fully unlock the immense, explosive weight of these opening verses, we must view this language through the profound lens of the Ancient Israelite divine council worldview, as masterfully taught by Doctor Michael S. Heiser. In our modern, Western theological context, we often read terms like “God of gods,” or “Lord of lords,” as mere rhetorical hyperbole—poetic ways of saying God is the biggest and the best. But to the ancient Near Eastern mind, this was a highly technical, legal description of celestial hierarchy. The psalmist is explicitly naming the Elohei ha-elohim—the supreme, uncreated Sovereign who presides over the entire assembly of heavenly beings.<#0.5#>

We must recall the foundational cosmic geography of Deuteronomy, chapter thirty-two, verses eight and nine. When the Most High divided the nations at the Tower of Babel, He allocated the different people groups to the oversight of lesser spiritual beings—the sons of God, the territorial elohim. These spiritual principalities subsequently rebelled, becoming corrupt, demanding worship for themselves, and plunging the pagan world into darkness. They set up their own rival thrones, claiming absolute lordship over their respective empires.<#0.5#>

The psalmist stands in the temple courts and hurls a massive, polemical challenge into the unseen realm. By commanding the people to give thanks to the “God of gods,” and the “Lord of lords,” he is legally reasserting Yahweh’s supreme authority over the entire cosmic rebellion. He is stating that the rebel principalities of Babylon, Egypt, and Rome are merely created entities, middle-management spirits who owe their very existence to the High King. They may claim to be gods, but Yahweh is the Sovereign over their council. Their authority is localized and temporary; His supremacy is absolute and universal.<#0.5#>

Notice the specific engine that powers this supreme governance. Why does the universe remain secure under the God of gods? Because “His faithful love endures forever.” The Hebrew word used here is our foundational, majestic anchor word: Hesed. It refers to a loyal, stubborn, covenant-keeping affection that refuses to let go. The psalmist is making a radical claim: the ultimate, structural fabric of the cosmos is not blind power, chaotic fate, or erratic anger—which is what the pagan nations believed about their capricious deities. The bedrock of the universe is the relentless, fiercely loyal Hesed of Yahweh. Every star hangs in space, and every legal decree of the divine council is issued through the filter of this enduring love.<#0.5#>

Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Six: verses four, five, and six.<#0.5#>

Give thanks to him who alone does mighty miracles. His faithful love endures forever. Give thanks to him who made the heavens so skillfully. His faithful love endures forever. Give thanks to him who placed the earth on the water. His faithful love endures forever.<#0.5#>

The anthem transitions from the composition of the celestial council, to the initial acts of creation, demonstrating that Yahweh’s Hesed is the driving force behind the physical architecture of our world. We are commanded to praise the One “who alone does mighty miracles.”<#0.5#>

The use of the word “alone” is another intentional, razor-sharp polemic against the rebel spirits. The pagan cultures credited their localized deities with all kinds of supernatural feats, believing that Baal brought the rain, or that Ra managed the sun. But the psalmist clears the stage, declaring that when it comes to true, cosmic, and foundational miracles, Yahweh operates completely without rivals. He needs no help from the divine assembly; His own voice is entirely sufficient to organize the void.<#0.5#>

He proves this by pointing to the skies: “Give thanks to him who made the heavens so skillfully.” The Hebrew text implies that the heavens were designed with deep, mathematical wisdom and artistic precision. In the ancient biblical worldview, the creation of the heavens was an act of establishing boundaries, building a beautifully ordered home where life could safely flourish, completely insulated from primeval chaos.<#0.5#>

The psalmist then moves his focus down to the geography of our home in verse six: “Give thanks to him who placed the earth on the water.” To the ancient Near Eastern mind, this imagery was filled with intense, dramatic tension. They believed that the dry land was established, and anchored, directly over the dark, deep, and roaring waters of the primordial ocean—the realm of Yamm, which represented the terrifying forces of unmitigated chaos. Left to themselves, the wild waters would instantly rise up to swallow the land, flooding the world back into a formless void.<#0.5#>

But Yahweh executed a mighty miracle of stabilization. He flattened the earth, drove back the roaring tides, and placed the dry ground securely "on the water," pinning the chaotic deep beneath His feet. He built a structural breakwater for humanity. When the congregation chants, “His faithful love endures forever” after this verse, they are recognizing that the very ground they stand upon is a direct gift of divine mercy. The earth remains solid, and the chaos waters are kept at bay, simply because the loyal Hesed of the Creator actively maintains the boundaries of creation every single second.<#0.5#>

Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Six: verses seven, eight, and nine.<#0.5#>

Give thanks to him who made the heavenly lights— His faithful love endures forever. the sun to rule the day, His faithful love endures forever. and the moon and stars to rule the night. His faithful love endures forever.<#0.5#>

The first movement of this epic liturgy reaches its climax by looking back up at the celestial clockwork governing our days and nights. “Give thanks to him who made the heavenly lights—the sun to rule the day, and the moon and stars to rule the night.”<#0.5#>

To fully appreciate the spiritual warfare embedded in this section, we must look at the sun, moon, and stars through the eyes of the ancient world. To the surrounding pagan nations, the celestial bodies were not inanimate spheres of gas or rock; they were powerful, active deities. Shamash was the Babylonian sun god, representing judging, blistering heat; and Sin was the moon god, ruling the mysterious terrors of the night. The pagans believed these astral principalities held absolute, independent control over human destiny, mapping out fortunes through astrology, and demanding worship from the masses.<#0.5#>

But the Genesis creation blueprint, which the psalmist is beautifully singing here, completely strips these astral deities of their divine status. Notice that the text doesn't even call them by their pagan names; they are simply referred to as “the heavenly lights”—lamps, clocks, and calendar markers manufactured by the hands of Yahweh. They did not create themselves, and they possess absolutely no independent sovereignty. They are servants, operating under strict orders from the true King.<#0.5#>

The psalmist notes that they were appointed “to rule.” The sun rules the day, and the moon and stars rule the night. In the divine council theology, this language of "ruling" connects directly to the cosmic administration of the universe. God assigned these celestial lights to manage the seasons, the boundaries of time, and the rhythms of the physical world. <#0.5#>

Yet, after every mention of their assigned rule, the congregation interjects with their thunderous refrain: “His faithful love endures forever.” This repetition creates a magnificent theological guardrail. It reminds the listening principalities, and the human travelers, that the ruling authority of the sun, moon, and stars is completely derivative. The celestial lights can only rule because Yahweh’s Hesed permits them to. The sun rises with warmth, and the moon pushes back the midnight shadows, not because the pagan astral gods are powerful, but because the enduring, loyal love of the Creator is actively managing the solar system for the benefit of His image-bearers. The cosmic hierarchy is perfectly aligned under the feet of the Maker of heaven and earth.<#0.5#>

Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Six, verses one through nine, provides us with a magnificent, deeply stabilizing rhythm for our modern lives, completely reorienting our focus in a chaotic world.<#0.5#>

It teaches us that no matter how loud the noise of our culture becomes, and no matter how arrogant the modern principalities of darkness appear, they are entirely outmatched by the God of gods and the Lord of lords. The shifting systems of this world are merely middle-management illusions; the true Sovereign remains effortlessly on the throne of reality.<#0.5#>

As you walk your trek today, internalize the beautiful, antiphonal structure of this psalm. The Great Hallel is designed to train your mind how to handle the data of a broken world. When your circumstances shout an immediate problem, your soul must instantly respond with the unyielding echo of faith: “His faithful love endures forever.” <#0.5#>

When the chaotic waters of anxiety and stress threaten to rise up and overwhelm your mind, remind yourself of the Miraculous Architect who placed the earth securely on the water, pinning down the chaos through His loyal affection. When you look at the shifting seasons, or face the dark, uncertain midnight watches of your life, remember that the sun, moon, and stars are just lamps in your Father's house, operating under His strict command. You are not a victim of blind fate, or malicious spiritual forces. You are the treasured possession of the High King. Rest your mind in the unshakeable, rhythmic assurance of His covenant Hesed, knowing that the same enduring love that skillfully forged the cosmos is actively guarding your footsteps, today, tomorrow, and across all of eternity.<#0.5#>

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.’<#0.5#>

 

Day 2884 – “Welcome to the War”  based on Luke 9:1-11

Putnam Church Message – 05/17/2026

Last week’s message was “Never Too Little, Never Too Lost,” in which we learned that the crowd may overlook you. Fear may accuse you.  Shame may silence you. Death may threaten you. But Jesus says, “You matter to Me.”

Today, we continue with our twenty-third message from Luke’s narrative of the Good News of Jesus Christ. Today’s message is: Welcome to the War.” Our core passage today is Luke 9:1-11, which is found on page 1608 of your pew Bibles.

Today, we continue in Luke’s Gospel with the twenty-third message in our New Testament series, and the title is “Welcome to the War.”

That may sound strong at first. We may think, “War? I thought we were talking about the Good News.”

But Luke has been showing us from the beginning that the Good News of Jesus is not merely a comforting message for private spiritual reflection. It is the announcement that the Kingdom of God has arrived in Jesus Christ, and that means the dominion of evil is being overthrown.

When Jesus preached in the synagogue in Nazareth, He announced good news to the poor, freedom for captives, sight for the blind, and release for the oppressed. When He healed the sick, forgave sinners, calmed the storm, delivered the demon-possessed man, restored the woman who had suffered for twelve years, and raised Jairus’ daughter, He was not simply doing random acts of kindness. He was showing that the Kingdom of God was breaking into a broken world.

In our previous messages, we have watched Jesus minister with compassion and authority. / We saw Him show love and grace to a sinful woman in the Pharisee’s house. / We asked, “Where Are You in This Picture?” -> as Jesus taught about the soils of the heart. /  We saw “Freedom From Bondage” when Jesus delivered the man among the tombs. /  We saw that no one is “Never Too Little, Never Too Lost” when Jesus stopped for the suffering woman and raised Jairus’ daughter.

Now, in Luke 9:1–11, something shifts.

Up until now, the disciples have been watching, learning, assisting, asking, and following. They have seen Jesus preach. They have seen Jesus heal. They have seen Jesus command demons. They have seen Jesus calm nature itself.

But now Jesus calls the Twelve together and sends them out.

The students become participants.

The observers become messengers.

The apprentices enter the battle.

Jesus does not merely gather followers to sit near Him. He forms disciples to join His mission.

So today, let’s walk through Luke 9:1–11 under four main truths.

Luke tells us that Jesus called the Twelve together and gave them power and authority over all demons and to cure diseases. Then He sent them out to proclaim the Kingdom of God and to heal the sick. / This is remarkable.

These are the same disciples who were afraid in the storm. These are the same men who often misunderstood Jesus. These are not polished professionals. They are fishermen, tax collectors, ordinary men and women from ordinary places.

And yet Jesus sends them. / That should encourage us.

God's mission does not depend on perfect people. It depends on the authority of a perfect Savior. /  Luke uses two important words here: power and authority.

Power refers to ability — the strength to accomplish what could not be accomplished naturally. Authority refers to the right to act on behalf of another.

A police officer directing traffic is a helpful picture. The officer may not have the physical power to stop a moving vehicle with his bare hands. But when he raises his hand, cars stop because he carries delegated authority. He acts on behalf of a higher government.

Jesus gives His disciples both. He gives them divine ability and delegated authority. / They are not going out in their own names. They are going out in His name. / And what are they sent to do?

In ancient times, a herald would enter a town square and speak on behalf of the king. The herald’s message carried weight because it did not originate with the herald. He spoke with delegated authority.

That is the picture here. The disciples are heralds. They are announcing that God’s Kingdom has drawn near in Jesus. / This connects directly with the broader story of Scripture.

In Genesis, humanity was created to live under God’s good rule. But sin brought rebellion, brokenness, death, and bondage. Throughout the Old Testament, God promised that His Kingdom would come, His enemies would be defeated, and His people would be restored.

The prophets looked ahead to a day when captives would be freed, the sick would be restored, and God’s reign would be made known among the nations. Jesus is that fulfillment.

And now He sends His disciples to announce it.

Hold up two objects: a badge and a battery.

A badge represents authority. It says, “I have been authorized to act.”

A battery represents power. It supplies energy to do what needs to be done.

A badge without power may represent a title but no ability. A battery without authority may have energy but no direction.

For us today, not all of us have the same calling as the Twelve. Their mission in Luke 9 was specific to that moment in Jesus’ ministry. But the larger principle remains: Christ still sends His people into the world as witnesses.

We go not because we are impressive, / but because Jesus is King.

We speak not because we know everything, / but because we know Him.

We serve not because we have unlimited strength, / but because His strength is made perfect in weakness.

In Ephesians 6, Paul reminds us that our struggle is not merely against flesh and blood, but against spiritual forces of evil. / That does not mean we become fearful or dramatic. / It means we become prayerful, alert, and faithful.

But remember this: we do not enter the battle alone. We go under the authority of Jesus.

After giving them their mission, Jesus gives them unusual travel instructions.

He tells them not to take a staff, bag, food, money, or even an extra tunic.

Now, to our ears, that sounds almost irresponsible. Most of us do not go to the grocery store without checking if we have our wallet, phone, keys, and maybe a backup plan.

But in the ancient world, travel was far more difficult and dangerous than it is now. A staff was useful for walking and protection. A bag could carry food or supplies. Bread represented daily provision. Money offered security. An extra tunic provided comfort and warmth.

Jesus tells them to go without the very things travelers would usually depend on.

Why? / Not because planning is bad. In fact, later in Luke 22, Jesus will give different instructions for a different season. So, this is not a universal rule that Christians should never prepare.

Jesus is training them. / He wants them to learn that the mission is urgent,

and that God can provide.

There is a difference between preparation and dependence. / Preparation is wise. Dependence on our own resources, as though God were unnecessary, is dangerous.

Jesus wants them free from clutter, free from delay, free from the temptation to make comfort the first priority.

He is saying, in effect, “Go now. Do not wait until you feel fully supplied. Do not wait until you have answered every question. Do not wait until the mission feels safe. Trust the Father.”

 

In the ancient Near East, hospitality was a deeply valued obligation. Travelers depended on the welcome of homes and villages. A household that received guests offered food, lodging, and protection.

Jesus tells the disciples to stay in one home in each village rather than moving around from house to house. / Why would that matter?

Because moving around could make them look like they were looking for better accommodations. “This house has better food.” “That house has more comfortable bedding.” “Maybe the wealthy family on the hill will host us instead.”

Jesus wants them focused on the mission, not on comfort. / That is a needed word for us.

We live in a culture that trains us to customize comfort. We compare hotels, seats, vehicles, meals, phones, schedules, and even churches. But discipleship is not built around comfort. It is built around obedience.

Picture a large suitcase so full it barely closes. You try to pick it up, but it is heavy. You try to move quickly, but it slows you down.

Then picture a small bag with only what is necessary.

Some of us are trying to follow Jesus while dragging a suitcase full of fear, control, resentment, pride, overcommitment, and the need to be comfortable.

Jesus says, “Travel light.”

That may mean releasing the need to control every outcome.

It may mean letting go of the fear of not having enough.

It may mean simplifying our schedule, so we have room for people.

It may mean serving before we feel fully ready.

In our previous message/passage, Jesus showed us that interruptions matter. Here, He shows us that mission matters too. We need margin for both.

The disciples were to proclaim the Kingdom->and trust God for daily bread. That echoes the prayer Jesus taught earlier: “Give us each day the food we need.”

 

Welcome to Wisdom-Trek with Gramps! I am Guthrie Chamberlain, and we are on Day 2883 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.<#0.5#>

In our previous stop along this grand, poetic landscape, we explored the powerful, historical midsection of Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Five, verses eight through fourteen. We watched the temple liturgy transform into a dramatic victory march through time. We looked back at how Yahweh systematically dismantled the greatest earthly empires, and broke the power of the dark spiritual principalities operating behind the scenes. We stood in awe as the Divine Warrior shattered the gods of Egypt, and slaughtered the terrifying giant rebel kings, Sihon of the Amorites, and Og of Bashan, who ruled over the demonic stronghold of the underworld gates. We celebrated the truth that Yahweh vindicates His people, and pours out His fierce, fatherly compassion upon His treasured heritage.<#0.5#>

Today, we have arrived at the magnificent, soaring finale of this great temple hymn. We are completing our journey through Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Five, by exploring verses fifteen through twenty-one, in the New Living Translation. The psalmist shifts his strategy one final time. He has already proven Yahweh’s supremacy over nature, and His absolute dominance over history. Now, he launches a devastating, mocking, and highly sarcastic assault against the very nature of the gods worshiped by the surrounding nations. He forces the congregation to confront the ultimate, ridiculous contrast between a living, speaking, and history-shaping Creator, and the dead, manufactured metal status symbols of the rebel powers. Let us step onto the trail, open our minds, and listen to the final verdict of the cosmic courtroom.<#0.5#>

Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Five: verses fifteen, sixteen, and seventeen.<#0.5#>

The idols of the nations are merely things of silver and gold, shaped by human hands. They have mouths but cannot speak, and eyes but cannot see. They have ears but cannot hear, and mouths but cannot breathe.<#0.5#>

The final indictment begins with a brutally honest, reductionist look at the objects of pagan devotion. “The idols of the nations are merely things of silver and gold, shaped by human hands. They have mouths but cannot speak, and eyes but cannot see. They have ears but cannot hear, and mouths but cannot breathe.”<#0.5#>

To fully unlock the brilliant sarcasm, and the intense spiritual warfare embedded in these three verses, we must look through the lens of the Ancient Israelite divine council worldview, as masterfully taught by Doctor Michael S. Heiser. In the ancient Near East, the surrounding pagan nations did not believe their gods were only pieces of wood or metal. They knew the statues were made by craftsmen. However, they practiced a highly elaborate, mystical ritual known as the "Washing of the Mouth," or the "Opening of the Mouth." <#0.5#>

Through these esoteric ceremonies, pagan priests believed they could enchant the physical statue, prompting a territorial spiritual entity—a rebel elohim of the divine council—to actually come down, inhabit the metal image, and animate it. The idol was viewed as a localized, physical conduit for a supernatural power. The pagans believed that through these animated statues, their gods could look at their sacrifices, hear their prayers, and speak prophetic directions over their empires.<#0.5#>

The psalmist stands in the courts of Yahweh, looks at these highly intimidating, gold-plated cultural icons, and completely exposes them as a cosmic fraud. He strips away the mystical propaganda, and mocks the absolute helplessness of the material. He says, “Look closer at these terrifying gods of Babylon, Egypt, and Canaan. What are they, really? Strip away the smoke and mirrors, and they are merely static pieces of silver and gold. They are completely dependent upon the very humans who built them. If a human hand didn't shape them, they wouldn't even exist!”<#0.5#>

He then executes a brilliant, sensory takedown of their anatomy. He catalogs their organs, matching them against their total lack of functionality. “They have beautifully carved mouths, yes, but they are utterly mute. They cannot speak a single word of comfort, or declare a single true prophecy. They have glistening, jeweled eyes, but they are completely blind. They cannot see the suffering of their followers, or perceive the movements of history. They have elaborate ears, but they are totally deaf to the cries of the oppressed. They have a second mouth carved on their faces, but there is absolutely no ruach—no breath of life, no spirit—inside their lungs.”<#0.5#>

This is a devastating, logical checkmate. In the ancient world, breath was the defining evidence of life. Yahweh is the self-existent, living God who breathed the breath of life into the nostrils of humanity, and who effortlessly controls the winds of the cosmos. But the gods of the nations are spiritually suffocating. They are paralyzed, inanimate prisoners trapped inside their own expensive silver and gold armor. Why would an intelligent, eternal human being bow down to a physical object that possesses less vitality than a common insect?<#0.5#>

Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Five: verse eighteen.<#0.5#>

And those who make idols are just like them, as are all who trust in them.<#0.5#>

Having exposed the pathetic nature of the false gods, the psalmist delivers a chilling, psychological, and spiritual law of human nature. “And those who make idols are just like them, as are all who trust in them.”<#0.5#>

This is one of the most profound, terrifying warnings in the entire Old Testament. It outlines the law of spiritual assimilation: you will inevitably become just like the object of your ultimate alignment. You cannot give your worship, your devotion, and your deepest trust to a specific spiritual system without taking on the ontological characteristics of that system. <#0.5#>

In the biblical worldview, human beings were uniquely created to be the tselem—the physical images and reflections—of the living God, Yahweh. We were designed to mirror His life, His speaking truth, His clear-seeing justice, and His active compassion into the physical realm. But when a human being turns away from the Creator, and locks their loyalty onto the dead, manufactured systems of the rebel principalities, a horrific process of spiritual deformation begins. <#0.5#>

The psalmist is saying, “If you trust in a mute, blind, deaf, and breathless god, your own soul will slowly become mute, blind, deaf, and breathless.” The craftsmen who forge these idols, and the cultures that depend upon them, suffer a catastrophic degradation of their humanity. They lose their spiritual perception. They develop mouths, but they can no longer speak words of true wisdom or justice. They have eyes, but they become entirely blind to the cosmic reality of God’s sovereignty. They have ears, but they become totally deaf to the warnings of divine judgment. They become spiritually dead, hollowed out, and as lifeless as the silver and gold statues they worship. To worship a fraud is to transform your own life into a permanent illusion.<#0.5#>

Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Five: verses nineteen and twenty.<#0.5#>

O family of Israel, praise the Lord! O family of Aaron, praise the Lord! O family of Levi, praise the Lord! All you who fear the Lord, praise the Lord!<#0.5#>

In stark, brilliant contrast to the silent, suffocating isolation of the idolaters, the psalmist turns back to the vibrant, living congregation of Zion. He organizes the assembly into concentric circles of roaring, unified praise, calling upon each sacred order to testify against the darkness. <#0.5#>

“O family of Israel, praise the Lord! O family of Aaron, praise the Lord! O family of Levi, praise the Lord! All you who fear the Lord, praise the Lord!”<#0.5#>

Notice the beautiful, structured hierarchy of this liturgical call. He begins with the widest circle of covenant identity: the “family of Israel.” This is the entire nation, the collective segullah—the private, prized treasure of Yahweh. They are commanded to raise their voices to boast in the God who physically pulled them out of the jaws of Egypt. <#0.5#>

Then, he moves inward to the “family of Aaron.” These are the anointed high priests, the specific human mediators who are authorized to step into the Holy of Holies, to stand directly before the presence of the True King, and sprinkle the blood of atonement upon the footstool of His throne. <#0.5#>

Next, he calls upon the “family of Levi.” These are the ministers, the musicians, and the gatekeepers who manage the daily operations of the sanctuary, maintaining the cosmic boundary lines between the sacred space of God, and the profane world outside. <#0.5#>

Finally, he throws the doors open to the widest possible boundary: “All you who fear the Lord, praise the Lord!” This includes the gentiles, the God-fearers, the outsiders who have looked at the futility of their native pagan idols, abandoned the territorial elohim of their nations, and marched up the mountain to pledge their exclusive loyalty to the God of Jacob. <#0.5#>

This structured, unified praise is the absolute antithesis of the mute idols. The false gods cannot speak a single note, but the house of Yahweh is vibrating with the complex, harmonious music of thousands of living voices. When the priests, the Levites, the citizens, and the foreign converts sing together, they are acting as the earthly echo of the loyal heavenly host. They are drowning out the silent, dead atmosphere of the pagan temples with a roaring, living testimony to the absolute supremacy of their Creator.<#0.5#>

Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Five: verse twenty-one.<#0.5#>

Praise the Lord from Zion, for he lives here in Jerusalem. Praise the Lord!<#0.5#>

The entire grand liturgy reaches its definitive, triumphant punctuation mark in the final verse: “Praise the Lord from Zion, for he lives here in Jerusalem. Praise the Lord!”<#0.5#>

The psalmist anchors the final shout of praise to a specific geographic, and cosmic, center: Zion. As we have learned throughout our journey, Mount Zion was recognized in the ancient world as the unique intersection of heaven and earth. The rebel spiritual principalities claimed authority over the foreign nations from their own high, arrogant mountains. But Zion was the chosen, permanent embassy of the Most High God. <#0.5#>

Look at the ultimate, devastating contrast that concludes the psalm. The false gods of the nations are physical statues that must be carried on the shoulders of men, locked inside dark, empty temples where they sit paralyzed, unable to move a single inch to help their followers. <#0.5#>

But Yahweh is the infinite, uncreated Spirit who cannot be contained by human architecture—yet, in His fierce, covenantal love, He chooses to anchor His active presence to His people. He says, "I live here, in Jerusalem." He doesn't sit as a cold, dead statue; He lives as a dynamic, history-shaping Sovereign right in the middle of human history. The psalm concludes exactly how it began, with a final, roaring command: Hallelujah! Praise the Lord! The living King has completely evicted the claims of the silent idols, and His glory fills the earth.<#0.5#>

Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Five, verses fifteen through twenty-one, provides us with a sharp, piercing masterclass in spiritual discernment, completely exposing the deceptive traps of our modern culture.<#0.5#>

It reminds us that the human heart is a factory of validation, constantly tempted to project its trust onto things that are ultimately hollow, dead, and manufactured. Our modern world may not bow down to physical statues of silver and gold in a stone temple, but we face the exact same ancient temptation. We are constantly pressured to anchor our security, our identity, and our deepest trust to the manufactured idols of our culture—things like material wealth, political power, social status, or digital validation. <#0.5#>

These modern idols carry the exact same pathetic anatomy as the ancient statues of Babylon. They promise much, but they deliver absolutely nothing. The pursuit of materialistic success has a mouth, but it can never speak true peace to your anxious heart. The alignment with worldly political power has eyes, but it is completely blind to the eternal perspective of the Kingdom. The frantic chase for cultural validation has ears, but it is totally deaf to your soul's deepest cry for meaning. If you lock your loyalty onto these empty, breathless systems, you will inevitably experience the law of spiritual assimilation. You will become just like them—hollow, numb, and spiritually dead.<#0.5#>

As you walk your trek today, actively choose to break the silence of the idols. Audit the investments of your heart, and violently strip away any false security that has been shaped by human hands. Wean your soul from the transactional, empty promises of this culture, and step into the vibrant, living courts of your Creator. <#0.5#>

Line up with the family of faith—with the priests, the ministers, and all those who fear the Lord—and let your life become a continuous, roaring anthem of praise to the Name of Yahweh. Remember that you do not serve a dead, paralyzed god of metal; you serve the living, speaking, and history-shaping King of the cosmos. He has chosen you as His private, prized treasure, and He actively lives within your heart through His Holy Spirit. Lift your hands in holiness, rest securely in His unrivaled supremacy, and radiate His unshakeable Shalom to a blind and deaf world, today, tomorrow, and across all of eternity.<#0.5#>

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.’<#0.5#>

 

Welcome to Wisdom-Trek with Gramps! I am Guthrie Chamberlain, and we are on Day 2882 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.<#0.5#>

In our previous stop along this grand, poetic landscape, we explored the opening movement of Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Five, where we witnessed a magnificent temple liturgy that unmasked the false gods of the nations. We watched as Yahweh effortlessly demonstrated His total, seamless mastery over nature—commanding the clouds, directing the lightning, and releasing the wind from His royal celestial storehouses. We saw how the psalmist executed a brilliant, razor-sharp polemical attack against Baal, stripping the Canaanite storm god of his fraudulent resume. We discovered the comforting truth that Israel is Yahweh’s segullah—His private, prized, and treasured possession, chosen out of the chaotic landscape of a disinherited world.<#0.5#>

Today, the temple liturgy takes a powerful, dramatic turn. The psalmist shifts his focus away from Yahweh’s absolute sovereignty over nature, and directs our eyes to His absolute, undeniable sovereignty over human history and spiritual geography. He takes the traveling assembly on a historical tour, demonstrating that the True King doesn’t just manage the weather; He systematically dismantles the greatest earthly emp’res, and violently crushes the giant rebel kings who attempt to block the expansion of His kingdom. We are exploring Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Five, verses eight through fourteen, in the New Living Translation. Let us step onto the trail, adjust our cosmic lenses, and watch the Righteous Judge execute justice against the principalities of darkness.<#0.5#>

Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Five: verses eight and nine.<#0.5#>

He destroyed the firstborn in each Egyptian home, both people and animals. He performed miraculous signs and wonders in Egypt against Pharaoh and all his people.<#0.5#>

The historical narrative begins in the dark, oppressive brick-kilns of Egypt, tracing the opening lines of Israel’s great cosmic liberation. “He destroyed the firstborn in each Egyptian home, both people and animals. He performed miraculous signs and wonders in Egypt against Pharaoh and all his people.”<#0.5#>

To fully comprehend the sheer scale of the spiritual warfare embedded in these familiar words, we must look past our modern, secular history books, and view the Exodus through the profound lens of the Ancient Israelite divine council worldview, as masterfully taught by Doctor Michael S. Heiser. In the book of Exodus, chapter twelve, verse twelve, Yahweh explicitly declares the ultimate, underlying purpose of the plagues. He states, “Against all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgment; I am Yahweh.” <#0.5#>

The Exodus was not merely a political dispute over human labor; it was an open, aggressive courtroom trial, and a declaration of war against the corrupt, territorial elohim of the Nile. Egypt was the premier superpower of the ancient world, operating under the direct spiritual inspiration of powerful, rebellious members of the heavenly host. Pharaoh himself was not viewed merely as a human politician; he was worshiped as an incarnate god—the living proxy, and the supreme avatar, of the rebel spiritual principalities. When Pharaoh oppressed the chosen family of God, he was acting as the mouthpiece for the cosmic rebellion.<#0.5#>

Therefore, when Yahweh unleashed His miraculous signs and wonders, He was systematically target-shooting the Egyptian pantheon. He turned the Nile into blood to humiliate the river gods; He blocked out the sun to blind the sun god, Ra; and He paralyzed the land with darkness. <#0.5#>

The terrifying, ultimate climax of this cosmic execution occurred when the Lord destroyed the firstborn of both people and animals. In the ancient Near East, the firstborn son represented the strength, the legal inheritance, and the future legacy of the household. By striking down the firstborn—including the firstborn son of Pharaoh himself—Yahweh permanently broke the spiritual back of the empire. He demonstrated that the gods of Egypt were utterly helpless, completely unable to protect their own biological and spiritual lineages from the superior authority of the Creator. The proud, arrogant principalities of the Nile were weighed in the celestial balances, found wanting, and publicly stripped of their power.<#0.5#>

Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Five: verses ten through twelve.<#0.5#>

He struck down great nations and slaughtered mighty kings— Sihon king of the Amorites, Og king of Bashan, and all the rulers of Canaan. He gave their land as an inheritance, a special possession to his people Israel.<#0.5#>

The historical tour moves from the waters of the Red Sea, to the rugged, bloody battlefields on the eastern side of the Jordan River. “He struck down great nations and slaughtered mighty kings—Sihon king of the Amorites, Og king of Bashan, and all the rulers of Canaan. He gave their land as an inheritance, a special possession to his people Israel.”<#0.5#>

To the casual reader, the names Sihon and Og might seem like obscure, boring footnotes from ancient military history. But to the ancient Israelite pilgrim singing this song, these two names triggered a profound sense of awe, and holy terror. These were not ordinary human kings; they were the terrifying, giant gatekeepers of the cosmic rebellion. <#0.5#>

Let us unpack the spiritual geography of these territories through Doctor Heiser's research. In the book of Deuteronomy, we discover that Og, the king of Bashan, was a literal remnant of the giant Rephaim. His massive iron bedstead was over thirteen feet long! In the ancient Near Eastern mindset, the Rephaim were not just tall people; their lineage was directly connected to the Nephilim—the hybrid offspring resulting from the spiritual corruption of the Watchers recorded in Genesis chapter six. They were the physical, and spiritual, anomalies produced by the rebel gods to contaminate the human race, and block the redemptive plans of Yahweh.<#0.5#>

Furthermore, the region of Bashan was universally recognized as the geographic and spiritual epicenter of darkness. Located at the foot of Mount Hermon—the exact site where the rebel angels originally staged their mutiny—Bashan was poetically referred to as the "place of the serpent," and the literal "gate of the underworld." Sihon and Og ruled over this demonic stronghold, acting as a massive, supernatural wall designed to intimidate Israel, and prevent them from ever entering the Promised Land.<#0.5#>

When Yahweh struck down great nations, and slaughtered these mighty giant kings, He was not just clearing a physical highway for Israel. He was executing a spectacular, cosmic cleansing of the geography. The Divine Warrior marched into the very territory of the dead, confronted the most terrifying, monstrous proxies of the rebel council, and completely obliterated them from the face of the earth. He proved that giant stature, demonic lineages, and ancient spiritual fortresses are absolutely nothing but dust in the presence of the Almighty.<#0.5#>

And look at the ultimate, glorious result of this victory in verse twelve: “He gave their land as an inheritance, a special possession to his people Israel.” <#0.5#>

This is the beautiful, geographic reversal of the Tower of Babel. At Babel, humanity was disinherited, and handed over to the rule of the lesser elohim. But here, Yahweh violently reclaims the land from the rebels, completely evicts the demonic tenants, and hands the territory over to His segullah—His special possession. The Promised Land becomes a restored beachhead of Eden, a sacred space where the cosmic order, truth, and righteousness of the true King can finally flourish.<#0.5#>

Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Five: verses thirteen and fourteen.<#0.5#>

Your name, O Lord, endures forever; your fame, O Lord, is known to every generation. For the Lord will vindicate his people and have compassion on his servants.<#0.5#>

Having demonstrated Yahweh’s absolute mastery over history, the psalmist transitions into a magnificent, courtroom declaration of praise, drawing a sharp contrast between the mortality of the rebel kings, and the eternity of the Creator. “Your name, O Lord, endures forever; your fame, O Lord, is known to every generation.”<#0.5#>

Think about the profound irony of this statement. Where is Pharaoh today? Where are Sihon and Og? Their mighty empires have collapsed into dust; their giant iron beds have rusted away, and their names are only remembered as examples of historical failure. The rebel spiritual principalities who inspired them have been legally defeated, and are destined for final, eternal execution. Their fame was a fleeting, empty illusion. <#0.5#>

But the Name of Yahweh—His character, His reputation, and His sovereign authority—endures forever. His fame cascades down, uninterrupted, from one generation to the next. The historical victories in Egypt, and Bashan, serve as permanent, unchangeable monuments proving that the true King is completely faithful to His covenant oaths. <#0.5#>

The stanza concludes in verse fourteen with an incredibly comforting promise for the weary pilgrims: “For the Lord will vindicate his people and have compassion on his servants.”<#0.5#>

The Hebrew word for "vindicate" here is yadin, which carries a deep, legal meaning in the cosmic courtroom. It implies that Yahweh acts as our divine defense attorney, and our supreme judge. The rebel spiritual forces are the ultimate accusers, constantly using our failures, our sins, and our cultural weakness to blackmail us, attempting to argue that we belong in the darkness with them. But the Righteous Judge steps up to the bench, looks at the history of His redemptive actions, and completely dismisses the charges. He vindicates His people, declaring them legally free from the custody of the adversary.<#0.5#>

He pairs this legal vindication with intense, emotional tenderness: He will “have compassion on his servants.” The Creator of the universe is not a cold, detached bureaucrat. He is our fiercely loyal, loving Father. He sees the exhaustion of our journey, He recognizes the scars we carry from surviving behind enemy lines, and He floods our lives with His tender, unmerited mercy. Our vindication is secured, and our comfort is guaranteed by the eternal Sovereign of the cosmos.<#0.5#>

Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Five, verses eight through fourteen, provides us with an unshakeable, rock-solid confidence as we navigate the unique spiritual battles of our modern lives.<#0.5#>

It teaches us that history is not a chaotic series of random, meaningless accidents. History is a linear, carefully managed narrative, directed by the hand of the Almighty. The earthly systems of corruption, and the dark spiritual principalities that influence our modern culture, are completely outmatched by the King of Kings.<#0.5#>

As you walk your trek today, refuse to be intimidated by the "giant kings" of your life. You may face obstacles that look as terrifying as Sihon and Og—seemingly insurmountable walls of depression, anxiety, brokenness, or cultural opposition that attempt to block you from experiencing the full inheritance of God's peace. When those shadows loom large, look back at the track record of your King. Remind yourself that He has a history of crushing giants, splitting seas, and breaking the scepters of oppression.<#0.5#>

Stand tall in the cosmic courtroom, knowing that your legal vindication has been permanently signed, sealed, and delivered by the Righteous Judge. Rest securely in His fierce, fatherly compassion. The names of your troubles will eventually wither away into insignificance, but the Name of your Lord will endure forever. Walk forward with the bold, resilient stride of a conqueror, trusting that the God who cleared the highway through Bashan will safely guide your footsteps all the way into His eternal, glorious kingdom.<#0.5#>

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.’<#0.5#>

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.<#0.5#>

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!<#0.5#>

 

Welcome to Wisdom-Trek with Gramps!   I am Guthrie Chamberlain, and we are on Day 2881 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.<#0.5#>

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 Bible as a Polemic: Confronting the Powers that Rebelled<#0.5#>

To modern readers shaped by pluralism and academic detachment, the confrontational tone of the Bible may seem abrasive. But this response overlooks what the Bible truly is. It is not a disinterested theological reflection. It is a weapon. It is a series of books forged in the heart of a spiritual and historical rebellion. Its message was not formed in a vacuum but in the aftermath of Babel and the divine treason of the bene elohim who had been placed over the nations. Understanding the polemical nature of the Bible begins by understanding the world it was written to confront.<#0.5#>

The first segment is: What Is a Polemic? And Why the ANE Was Full of Them<#0.5#>

A polemic is a targeted argument or critique meant to expose, undermine, or discredit a rival idea, practice, or system. Unlike a simple disagreement or neutral description, a polemic is written to confront. It deliberately challenges an existing claim and seeks to replace it. In the ancient world, polemics were often theological, political, and cultural all at once. The gods, kings, and cities of rival nations were not treated as irrelevant. They were treated as threats that had to be addressed.<#0.5#>

In the context of the Ancient Near East, polemics were deeply embedded in the stories nations told about themselves. Every origin story, temple hymn, or divine genealogy was not just a description of how things came to be. It was a claim of legitimacy. To say your god created the world or defeated the sea monster or chose your king was to declare supremacy over other peoples and their gods. It was to say, “Our story is the true one. Yours is a counterfeit.”<#0.5#>

For example, when Babylon claimed that Marduk created the world by killing the goddess Tiamat, it was not just promoting cosmology. It was justifying Babylon’s imperial authority as the city of the supreme god. When Egypt said that Ma’at held the universe together through the Pharaoh’s divine rulership, it was declaring that Egyptian order was the divine ideal, and everyone else lived in chaos.<#0.5#>

In such a world, writing something like Genesis 1 was not a quiet religious reflection. It was a direct challenge to every claim made by Egypt, Babylon, and Canaan. It was a polemic. And in the Bible, this polemical instinct is not occasional. It is foundational. Israel’s Scriptures were not meant to fit within the theological frameworks of other nations. They were meant to shatter them.<#0.5#>

The second segment is: Babel and the Reordering of the World<#0.5#>

Genesis 11 describes a human rebellion that goes far deeper than building a tower. At Babel, humanity attempted to unify under its own authority and defy Yahweh’s mandate to fill the earth. But the judgment that followed did more than scatter languages.<#0.5#>

According to Deuteronomy 32, verses eight and nine, when Yahweh divided the nations, He appointed the bene elohim, divine sons of God, to oversee them. Only Israel would remain His direct possession.<#0.5#>

The nations were not abandoned without guidance. But over time, the spiritual beings given authority over them failed in their stewardship. They began to crave worship and corrupted the justice they were meant to uphold. Psalm 82 records Yahweh standing in judgment over these divine rulers, declaring that they would fall like mortals. This cosmic judgment sets the stage for the mission of Israel and the tone of Scripture itself.<#0.5#>

The third segment is: Israel: The Counter-Nation<#0.5#>

Unlike the nations that inherited rebellious rulers, Israel was created from scratch. Yahweh did not reform an existing people. He called Abram from among the disinherited nations and made a new people who would be His portion. Israel was not simply chosen for privilege but created for purpose. As stated in Exodus 19 verse six, they were to be a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.<#0.5#>

This priestly identity means Israel’s role was inherently polemical. Their laws, festivals, temples, and scriptures were not private religious expressions. They were public declarations that the gods of the nations were false, the powers behind them were corrupt, and that Yahweh alone was Most High over all the earth. The Bible, as the written witness of Israel’s calling, reflects this purpose.<#0.5#>

The Fourth Segment is: Polemics in the Biblical Texts<#0.5#>

The polemical nature of the Bible is woven deeply into its stories, laws, songs, and prophecies. These are not culturally isolated documents. They are intentional confrontations with the dominant worldviews shaped by the fallen gods of the nations.<#0.5#>

The Fifth segment is: Creation and the Flood<#0.5#>

Genesis one is not merely an account of beginnings. It is a direct response to Mesopotamian creation myths such as Enuma Elish, which portray creation as the result of divine violence and chaos. In contrast, the biblical God creates through speech, with order and intention. There is no struggle, no divine bloodshed, no pantheon. It is a declaration that the gods of Babylon are not creators but pretenders.<#0.5#>

Likewise, the flood account in Genesis six through nine subverts the flood stories of the surrounding cultures. In the Epic of Gilgamesh, the gods send the flood in terror and regret it. In the Bible, the flood is just, purposeful, and moral. It is a surgical judgment on a world corrupted by human violence and divine rebellion, not the panicked act of unstable deities.<#0.5#>

The sixth segment is: Conquest and the Defeat of the Gods<#0.5#>

When Israel enters the land of Canaan, the conquest is not simply a political campaign. It is a cosmic battle against the corrupted spiritual rulers of the land. The defeat of Pharaoh in Egypt is explicitly described as Yahweh executing judgment on the gods of Egypt. The plagues are not random punishments but targeted humiliations of Egypt’s divine protectors.<#0.5#>

Jericho’s fall, the silencing of Baal on Mount Carmel, the defeat of Dagon before the Ark in 1 Samuel 5, and the crushing of Leviathan imagery in the Psalms all follow the same pattern. The text is not just reporting history. It is declaring war on the false gods and the unseen rulers who manipulated the nations into darkness.<#0.5#>

The seventh Segment is: Psalms and Prophets as Weapons<#0.5#>

The Psalms, often viewed only as worship poetry, are filled with divine council imagery and subversion of Canaanite theology. Psalm 29, for instance, uses storm language that sounds like a Baal hymn but places Yahweh as the one who rides the storm and subdues the waters. In Ugaritic myth, Baal defeats Yam to earn his throne. In the Bible, Yahweh sits enthroned above the flood before it ever lifts its head.<#0.5#>

The prophets likewise deliver blistering critiques of the nations and their gods. Isaiah 19 declares judgment not just on Egypt but on its idols, priests, and necromancers. Ezekiel 28 mocks the divine claims of the Prince of Tyre, unmasking him as a fallen being in Eden. These are not veiled jabs. They are open condemnations of spiritual rebellion embedded in political empires.<#0.5#>

The Eighth segment is: The New Testament: The War Reaches Its Climax<#0.5#>

By the time of Christ, the powers of the nations had not been dethroned. The world remained under their sway. Jesus refers to Satan as the ruler of this world and frames His ministry as a battle to bind the strong man and plunder his house. Every healing, exorcism, and storm-calming miracle is a polemic in action. Jesus is not just showing compassion. He is confronting the gods.<#0.5#>

The cross itself is the ultimate polemic. It appears to be a defeat but is actually a triumph. As Paul writes in Colossians 2:15, Christ disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame. This is courtroom and battlefield language. The spiritual powers that once ruled unchallenged were publicly exposed as weak, condemned, and temporary.<#0.5#>

The apostles carry this mission forward. Paul sees the preaching of the gospel as a cosmic declaration to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly realms. The church is not merely a new religious community. It is the living proof that the rebel gods have lost their grip, and that Yahweh is reclaiming the nations He once disinherited.

In Conclusion<#0.5#>

The Bible is not neutral because Yahweh is not indifferent. He is not one god among many. He is the Creator reclaiming a world that fell into enemy hands. Every passage of Scripture participates in this war, whether it is exposing lies, correcting myths, unmasking demonic powers, or declaring Yahweh’s unmatched glory.<#0.5#>

Understanding the Bible as a polemic reshapes how we read it. It is not simply a spiritual guidebook or a collection of moral teachings. It is a divine proclamation in the midst of enemy territory. It confronts both the seen and unseen rulers of this age, announcing their defeat and calling all peoples to return to the true King.<#0.5#>

To read Scripture faithfully is to join that confrontation. To teach it is to carry its sword. To believe it is to align with the One who is not just telling a better story, but reclaiming the entire world through it.<#0.5#>

To further your study, consider these Discussion Questions<#0.5#>

How does the biblical account of Babel and the disinheriting of the nations explain why the Bible takes such an aggressive stance against other gods and worldviews?<#0.5#>

In what ways does recognizing Genesis 1 as a polemic against Ancient Near Eastern creation myths change how we understand its purpose?<#0.5#>

Why would Yahweh deliberately inspire Scripture that confronts and mocks the gods of Egypt, Canaan, Babylon, and later Rome? What does this say about the nature of divine revelation?<#0.5#>

How does the idea that Israel was created as a counter-nation help explain the structure, laws, and stories of the Old Testament?<#0.5#>

If the Bible is a sustained confrontation with both human and divine rebellion, what does that imply about the modern Church’s mission and how we read Scripture today?<#0.5#>

Join us next Theology Thursday to learn The Problem of Evil: Free Will, Imager of God, and The Divine Design.<#0.5#>

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.’<#0.5#>                         

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.<#0.5#>

As we take this Trek of life together, let us always:<#0.5#>                     

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 eight hundred eighty 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.<#0.5#>

In our previous stop along this grand, poetic landscape, we witnessed the beautiful, atmospheric conclusion to the Songs of Ascents. In Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Four, we stood under the starlit canopy of Jerusalem at midnight, watching the weary pilgrims prepare to descend the mountain. Before disappearing into the darkness, they exchanged a parting blessing with the temple guards and the Levites, who kept watch through the treacherous night. We learned that while the surrounding pagan world cowered in terror of the nocturnal shadows—fearing the chaotic whims of the rebel spiritual principalities—the guardians of Yahweh raised their hands in holiness, enforcing the spiritual borders of the Creator’s earthly embassy. We left that trail with the comforting assurance that the Maker of heaven and earth issues an unshakeable benediction from Mount Zion, a blessing that follows us into every dark corner of our exile.<#0.5#>

Today, we transition into a grand, sweeping temple liturgy that takes the flickering spark of that midnight praise, and explodes it into a glorious, daytime anthem of cosmic victory. We are stepping onto a new trail, exploring the opening movement of Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Five, verses one through seven, in the New Living Translation. This psalm is historically categorized as a “Hallel”—a great song of praise—and it serves as a spectacular, polemical unmasking of the false gods of the nations. The psalmist pulls back the cosmic curtain, calling the assembly to praise the unrivaled, absolute sovereignty of Yahweh. Let us step onto the path, adjust our focus, and prepare to encounter the High King of the celestial council.<#0.5#>

Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Five: verses one through three.<#0.5#>

Praise the Lord! Praise the name of the Lord! Praise him, you who serve the Lord, you who stand in the house of the Lord, in the courts of the house of our God. Praise the Lord, for the Lord is good; celebrate his lovely name with music.<#0.5#>

The psalm opens with a thunderous, rhythmic command that shatters the morning silence of the temple courts. “Praise the Lord! Praise the name of the Lord!”<#0.5#>

In the original Hebrew, this opening blast is Hallelujah—a direct, imperative shout commanding the entire assembly to boast in Yahweh. Notice the specific target of this adoration: “the name of the Lord.” In the ancient Near East, and throughout the biblical narrative, a deity’s name was not just a convenient label or a linguistic tag. The name represented the very essence, the character, the reputation, and the active presence of the person. In the books of Moses, Yahweh explicitly stated that His "Name" would dwell in the sanctuary. Therefore, to praise the Name is to actively execute an assignment of cosmic allegiance. It is declaring that the reputation of the God of Jacob is superior to any other entity in existence.<#0.5#>

The psalmist specifically addresses the leaders of this worship in verse two: “Praise him, you who serve the Lord, you who stand in the house of the Lord, in the courts of the house of our God.”<#0.5#>

This bridges perfectly with our previous study of the final Song of Ascent. The watchmen who stood by night are now joined by the full daytime staff of priests, musicians, and gatekeepers, standing in the expansive, sunlit courts of the sanctuary. To "stand" in the ancient courtly language did not mean merely to be on one’s feet; it was a technical term for serving as an official minister in a royal court. The priests were the human counterparts to the loyal, heavenly host. Just as the angels stand in the celestial throne room to execute the decrees of the King, the priests stand in the earthly copy of that throne room, maintaining the cosmic order through worship and sacrifice. <#0.5#>

The motivation for this unceasing service is detailed in verse three: “Praise the Lord, for the Lord is good; celebrate his lovely name with music.”<#0.5#>

The goodness of Yahweh is the absolute bedrock of biblical theology. The surrounding pagan nations lived in constant, paralyzing anxiety because their gods—the rebel elohim of the divine council—were fundamentally fickle, malicious, and self-serving. They had to be constantly appeased with blood, bribes, and frantic rituals just to keep them from throwing a cosmic temper tantrum. But the God of Israel is immutably, beautifully good. His Name is "lovely"—meaning sweet, pleasant, and deeply satisfying to the soul. The community is commanded to celebrate this goodness with music, using the rhythmic resonance of harps, lyres, and voices to align the atmosphere of the earth with the harmonious songs of the heavenly host.<#0.5#>

Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Five: verse four.<#0.5#>

For the Lord has chosen Jacob for himself, Israel for his own special treasure.<#0.5#>

The psalmist shifts from the general goodness of God, to a specific, historical act of cosmic boundary-setting. “For the Lord has chosen Jacob for himself, Israel for his own special treasure.”<#0.5#>

To unlock the massive, explosive weight of this single verse, we must view it through the brilliant lens of the Ancient Israelite divine council worldview, as masterfully taught by Doctor Michael S. Heiser. We must look back to the foundational blueprint of cosmic geography recorded in Deuteronomy, chapter thirty-two, verses eight and nine. That text reveals that when the Most High divided the nations at the Tower of Babel, He scattered humanity into separate language groups, allocating them to the oversight of lesser spiritual beings—the sons of God. Those territorial elohim subsequently rebelled, choosing to demand worship for themselves, and plunging the pagan world into darkness. But the text explicitly states that Yahweh’s personal portion is His people; Jacob is the lot of His inheritance.<#0.5#>

By repeating this reality in Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Five, the writer is launching a devastating polemical attack against the claims of the rebel nations. He is stating that Israel’s existence is not a geopolitical accident. While the rest of the world was disinherited, and handed over to the dominion of corrupt, angelic governors, Yahweh reached down into history, called Abraham out of paganism, and birthed a unique nation “for himself.” <#0.5#>

He calls Israel His “own special treasure.” The Hebrew word used here is segullah, which refers to a monarch’s private, personal wealth. In the ancient world, a king would collect taxes that went into the public treasury to run the empire; but he also possessed a private vault of priceless jewels, gold, and treasures that belonged uniquely to him. Israel is Yahweh’s segullah. The Creator of the universe looks at this small, historically persecuted group of exiles, and He says, "You are My private jewels. You are the specific family through whom I am going to launch My rescue mission to reclaim the entire planet from the rebel gods."<#0.5#>

Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Five: verse five.<#0.5#>

I know the greatness of the Lord— that our Lord is greater than any other god.<#0.5#>

The corporate song suddenly shifts into a bold, personal testimony of cosmic discernment. “I know the greatness of the Lord—that our Lord is greater than any other god.”<#0.5#>

In our modern, Western theological framework, we often read a verse like this and assume the psalmist is talking about psychological idols—things like money, career, or self-esteem. Or, we assume he is stating that the pagan gods are completely non-existent figments of human imagination. But in the ancient Near Eastern context, the statement is far more radical, and far more dangerous. The psalmist is not an abstract monotheist in the modern sense; he is a fierce monolatrist. He fully recognizes that the "other gods"—the elohim of the nations—are real, active, and powerful supernatural entities operating in the unseen realm. They are the rebel principalities that inspire human empires to commit systemic injustice and violence. <#0.5#>

But the psalmist stands in the temple courts, looks out at the towering structures of the pagan world, and delivers a definitive courtroom verdict: “our Lord is greater than any other god.” Yahweh is the El Elyon—the Most High God. The other elohim are merely created beings, lesser spirits who owe their very existence to the Sovereign Commander. They are limited by time, geography, and the unbending boundaries of divine judgment. They are localized, corrupt, and ultimately doomed to fail. But Yahweh is uncreated, infinite, and possesses an unmatched, absolute greatness that completely eclipses the collective power of the entire rebellious heavenly assembly.<#0.5#>

Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Five: verses six and seven.<#0.5#>

The Lord does whatever pleases him throughout all heaven and earth, and on the seas and in their depths. He causes the clouds to rise over the whole earth. He sends lightning with the rain and releases the wind from his storehouses.<#0.5#>

To prove this absolute, unrivaled supremacy over the rebel gods, the psalmist points directly to Yahweh’s effortless, total control over the natural and supernatural elements of creation. “The Lord does whatever pleases him throughout all heaven and earth, and on the seas and in their depths.”<#0.5#>

This is a breathtaking declaration of total jurisdiction. The pagan cultures believed that the universe was a chaotic battlefield, divided into highly competitive spiritual territories. The Canaanites believed that the god of the heavens was separate from the god of the earth, and they were terrified of Yamm—the chaotic, unpredictable god of the primordial seas and the deep ocean trenches. They believed that human survival depended on constantly negotiating with these different deities.<#0.5#>

But the psalmist completely dismantles this fragmented worldview. He states that Yahweh’s sovereignty is seamless. He does “whatever pleases him” in every single dimension of reality. He rules the highest heavens, He governs the physical earth, and He exercises absolute, crushing authority over the "seas and in their depths." The deep ocean trenches—traditionally viewed as the very throat of chaos and the playground of the sea monster Leviathan—are nothing more than a quiet corner of Yahweh's property. The chaotic waters must sit still when the True King speaks.<#0.5#>

The polemical attack reaches its absolute masterpiece in verse seven: “He causes the clouds to rise over the whole earth. He sends lightning with the rain and releases the wind from his storehouses.”<#0.5#>

This verse is a direct, razor-sharp parody of the Canaanite storm god, Baal. In the Ugaritic texts discovered by archaeologists, Baal was heavily worshiped as the "Rider on the Clouds." The Canaanites believed that Baal was the sole controller of the lightning, the rain, and the wind, and they credited him with the fertility of the land. They argued that without Baal, the earth would wither into a permanent desert.<#0.5#>

The psalmist looks at the clouds rolling across the horizon, and he essentially says, "Baal is an imposter. Baal is not riding those clouds; Yahweh is. The lightning is not a weapon of the rebel spirits; it is a servant of the Most High. The wind does not blow at the whim of the pagan deities; it is locked securely inside the royal storehouses of the Creator, released only when the Sovereign Commander gives the imperial order." Yahweh is the true Master of the Storm. He completely strips the rebel gods of their resume, claiming every flash of lightning and every drop of rain as direct, unyielding evidence of His personal, unrivaled cosmic management.<#0.5#>

Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Five, verses one through seven, provides us with a magnificent, unshakeable foundation for our faith, completely liberating our minds from the intimidating noise of our modern culture.<#0.5#>

It teaches us that we are not living in a universe of chaotic accidents, or random, unchecked spiritual forces. The world may feel deeply fractured, and the cultural systems around us may operate under the deceptive influence of the dark principalities, but the True King remains effortlessly in control of the entire matrix.<#0.5#>

As you walk your trek today, stand tall in the identity provided by your Creator. If you have placed your trust in Yahweh, you have been selected out of the chaos of the disinherited nations. You are His segullah—His private, prized, and treasured possession. The forces of darkness cannot confiscate a soul that has been securely locked inside the royal vault of the King.<#0.5#>

Refuse to be intimidated by the apparent power or the flashing glare of modern idols. They are empty illusions, completely outmatched by the greatness of your Lord. When the storms of life break over your head, and the chaotic waters of anxiety threaten to drag you into the depths, look up to the Master of the Storm. Remind yourself that He holds the wind in His storehouses, and He commands the lightning with the rain. Rest securely in His absolute, seamless sovereignty, and let your life become a continuous, joyful echo of the true assembly, shouting Hallelujah to the Name of the One True King, who rules over the heavens and the earth, today, tomorrow, and across all of eternity.<#0.5#>

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.’<#0.5#>

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.<#0.5#>

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!<#0.5#>

 

Day 2879 – “Never Too Little, Never Too Lost”  based on Luke 8:22-39

Putnam Church Message – 05/10/2026

Last week’s message was “Freedom from Bondage,” in which we learned that, regardless of the storms of life we face or the bondage we have experienced, through Christ we can withstand them and live free because believers fight on the winning side.

Today, we continue with our twenty-second message from Luke’s narrative of the Good News of Jesus Christ. Today’s message is: “Never Too Little, Never Too Lost.” Our core passage today is Luke 8:40-56, which is found on page 1607 of your pew Bibles.

I read a story about the former president of Taylor University, Jay Kesler, who once said with a smile, “I have an office full of pictures in which I’m shaking hands with great dignitaries, all of whom are looking at someone else.”

That line makes us laugh because we know exactly what he means. We have all seen it. Someone important shakes your hand, but their eyes are scanning the room. They are already looking for the next person, the next opportunity, the next more important conversation.

But Jesus is never like that.

If Jesus were to shake your hand, He would not be looking past you. He would not be distracted by the crowd behind you. He would look into your eyes, into your soul, into the places you hide from everybody else, and He would say, “You matter to Me.”

That is the heartbeat of our message today: Never Too Little, Never Too Lost.

We are continuing in Luke 8:40–56, and I encourage you to read the full passage from the New Living Translation. Luke places two stories together that belong together: the dying daughter of Jairus and the suffering woman who touched the edge of Jesus’ robe.

One is a young girl from a respected household. / The other is an unnamed woman pushed to the edges of society.

One has a father who can publicly plead her case. / The other has no public advocate at all.

One is twelve years old. / The other has suffered for twelve years.

One is loved in the center of the community. / The other has lived on the outside, isolated by illness, shame, and ceremonial uncleanness.

Luke tells us that when Jesus returned to Galilee, the crowd welcomed Him because they had been waiting for Him.

This is important. In the previous passage, Jesus had crossed the lake into Gentile territory. There, He delivered a man who was possessed, tormented, isolated, and living among the tombs. We called that message “Freedom from Bondage.” The people of that region saw a transformed man sitting at Jesus’ feet, clothed and in his right mind — and they asked Jesus to leave.

Now Jesus comes back across the lake, likely to the area around Capernaum, and this crowd is waiting.

Can you imagine the scene?

People are pressing forward. Some are hoping for healing. Some are curious. Some are desperate. Some just want to see what Jesus will do next.

And then a respected man steps out of the crowd. His name is Jairus.

Luke calls him a leader or official of the synagogue. He was probably not a rabbi, but a lay elder — the kind of man who helped oversee worship, teaching, building care, and community matters. / In a Jewish village, the synagogue was not merely a church building. It was the center of communal life. Jairus would have been known, respected, and influential.

But on this day, Jairus is not standing tall as a dignified religious leader. He falls at Jesus’ feet.

Why? Because his only daughter is dying.

Parents understand this scene immediately. There are few fears deeper than the fear of losing a child. Jairus does not come to debate theology. He does not come to protect his reputation. He does not come wondering whether being seen with Jesus might damage his standing among other leaders.

It reminds us of the centurion in Luke 7, whose beloved servant was near death. It reminds us of the widow of Nain, whose only son had died, and Jesus stepped into her grief before she even asked. In that message, we said, “There is Always Hope.” Here again, Luke shows us that Jesus moves toward human sorrow.

 

And notice this: Jesus goes with Jairus.

He does not say, “I am too busy.”

He does not say, “There are too many people here.”

He does not say, “You synagogue leaders have not always supported Me.”

He does not say, “I just came back from a stormy voyage and a difficult rejection.”

Imagine holding up a packed calendar or a long to-do list. Every line is filled. Every hour is claimed. There is no margin. Then hold up a blank sticky note and place it in the middle.

That blank space represents the interruption.

Most of us do not like interruptions. We say, “I was on my way to something important.” But Jesus shows us that sometimes / the interruption is the ministry.

Jairus interrupted Jesus’ public welcome. / The suffering woman will interrupt Jairus’ emergency. / But to Jesus, neither person is an inconvenience.

As Jesus begins moving toward Jairus’ house, the crowd presses around Him. Somewhere in that crowd is a woman who has suffered from continual bleeding for twelve years.

To us, this may sound like a medical problem, and it certainly was. But in first-century Jewish life, this was also a social and religious crisis.

Leviticus 15 explains that a woman with an ongoing flow of blood was considered ceremonially unclean. That did not mean she was morally evil. It meant she was ritually excluded from normal worship and normal community contact. Anyone who touched her could also become ceremonially unclean.

So think about what twelve years meant.

Twelve years of physical weakness.

Twelve years of failed treatments.

Twelve years of whispered conversations.

Twelve years of isolation.

Twelve years of wondering whether God had forgotten her.

Mark’s Gospel tells us she had suffered much from many doctors and had spent everything she had but had not improved. Instead, she had grown worse.

Luke, a physician, simply says that no one had been able to heal her.

Now compare the two twelve-year stories.

For twelve years, Jairus had watched his daughter grow. First steps. First words. Laughter in the home. Birthday celebrations. Hope for the future.

For those same twelve years, this woman had watched her life shrink. / Less money. / Less strength. / Less welcome. / Less hope.

The girl had a name known in the community. / The woman is unnamed.

The girl’s need is urgent. / The woman’s need is chronic.

The girl has a father pleading publicly. / The woman comes privately, silently, secretly.

The woman believes, perhaps with imperfect understanding, that if she can just touch the fringe of Jesus’ robe, she will be healed. In those days, devout Jewish men wore tassels on the corners of their garments, in obedience to Numbers 15 and Deuteronomy 22. These tassels reminded Israel to remember the Lord's commandments. So, she reaches for the edge of His garment. / She does not grab His arm. She does not speak His name. She does not demand attention. / She touches the fringe. / And immediately she is healed.

Now, here is the beautiful reversal: Under normal circumstances, her touch would make someone ceremonially unclean. But when she touches Jesus, He does not become unclean. / She becomes whole.

That is the power of Christ.

Sin does not overpower His holiness.

Shame does not overpower His mercy.

Sickness does not overpower His life.

Death will not overpower His authority.

Throughout Luke, Jesus keeps touching people whom others avoid. / He touched the man with leprosy. / He welcomed the sinful woman who wept at His feet. / He delivered the man from among the tombs. / And now He receives the touch of a woman considered unclean.

In the previous message, “Freedom from Bondage,” we saw Jesus cross boundaries to deliver a man everyone else feared. / In this story, Jesus allows a woman whom everyone else avoided to come near.

Many people today know what it feels like to live on the edge of the crowd.

Some are isolated by illness. Some by grief. Some by addiction. Some by past mistakes. Some by family wounds. Some by anxiety or depression. Some by the quiet fear that if others really knew their story, they would step away.

So, they come to church and smile, but inside they feel like the woman in the crowd: “I will stay hidden. I will not bother anyone. Maybe I can get close enough to receive something from God without anyone really seeing me.”

But Jesus does not merely heal her body. He stops to restore her identity.

He asks, “Who touched Me?” Peter basically says, “Master, this whole crowd is pressing up against you.”  But Jesus knows the difference between crowd contact and faith contact.  Many people bumped into Jesus that day. / One woman reached for Him in faith.

Trembling, she falls before Him and tells the whole story. Perhaps she expects rebuke. Perhaps she fears being publicly exposed. Instead, Jesus calls her “daughter.”

That is the only time in the Gospels we have a record of Jesus directly addressing a woman that way. Daughter.

Not “unclean one.”

Not “problem.”

Not “interruption.”

Not “woman, why did you touch Me?”

He tells her that her faith has made her well, and He sends her away in peace.