THERE HAD BEEN a storm that night. The teacher met with me in the morning. We sat outside the main building. We noticed a rainbow in the sky.
“Did you know that the rainbow surrounds the throne of God?” he asked.
“No,” I replied. “Where does it say that?”
“In the Book of Ezekiel: ‘Like the appearance of a rainbow in the clouds on a rainy day, so was the radiance around Him.’”
“Why didn’t Ezekiel just say ‘rainbow’ instead of ‘like the appearance of a rainbow’?”
“He didn’t say ‘throne’ either but ‘the likeness’ or ‘similitude’ of a throne. ‘And upon the likeness of the throne,’ he writes, ‘was the similitude as the appearance of a man.’ Now listen to how he sums it all up: ‘This was the appearance of the similitude of the glory of the Lord.’ It wasn’t the glory of the Lord. It was the similitude of the glory of the Lord . . . and not quite that. It was the appearance of the similitude of the glory of the Lord.”
“What does it all mean?” I asked.
“Here is the prophet Ezekiel being given a vision of the glory of God. And yet he can only speak of likenesses and appearances and similitudes and resemblances. What does that reveal? It reveals that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t describe it. He could only speak of what it appeared to be like. So it is with God. No matter what we use to describe Him, He’s still beyond it. No word can contain Him . . . not the highest praise, not the deepest thought, not the most sophisticated theology. They can’t even begin to grasp at His similitude. If even the prophet Ezekiel, to whom God showed visions of His glory, could not even describe, much less comprehend, what he was seeing, how can we?”
“How do I apply this?”
“Since God is always more than you think He is, then there’s always more for you to find. Therefore, you must seek Him every day and every moment. Never stop seeking, never stop learning, never stop drawing nearer and nearer. Draw near to Him with an open heart, and He will meet you . . . beyond the appearance of the likeness of the similitude.”
The Mission: Whatever you know of God, He’s more and beyond it. So seek today to find the more and beyond of God than you have yet known.
Ezekiel 1:26–28; Philippians 3:10
The Stranger
DAY 88
THE PORTABLE MOUNTAINTOP
HE LED ME to the top of a mountain, a stark, jagged mountain. When we reached the summit, we looked out. The view was breathtaking. The mountain was surrounded by a landscape of desert plains and more mountains, similarly stark, jagged, and dramatic, as far as one could see.
“It was on a mountain like this,” said the teacher, “that the glory of God descended in front of the nation of Israel . . . on Mount Sinai, one of the great high points of Israel’s history, literally a mountaintop experience. And then the moment passed. But before they moved on from Sinai, God told them to build the tent that would be called the Tabernacle. And He would dwell within it and be continually in their midst. So they built it. And God’s presence and glory that appeared on the mountaintop now descended to the plain. The glory would now be with them in the wilderness, in their everyday life, and in their journeying. Everywhere they went, God’s presence and glory was with them. What does this reveal?”
“God’s will is to come down to earth to dwell with us.”
“And so He did. In the opening of the Gospel of John, His coming down is recorded this way: ‘And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.’ But in the original language it says that the Word tabernacled with us. In other words, He ‘pitched His tent among us’ just as He did at Mount Sinai. What does this mean?”
“It means that every day of our lives, we can dwell in His presence.”
“Yes,” he said. “It means you can dwell in the glory of God every day of your life. In the natural, life is a series of ups and downs, the ups and downs of circumstances, and the ups and downs of emotion. But in God, the up has come down. Heaven has come to earth. The mountaintop has come down to the valley. What that means is that even in the lowest places of your life, you can still dwell on the heights. And no matter where you are, even in the darkest valley, you can still dwell in the glory of the mountaintop.”
“How?” I asked.
“By entering into the Tabernacle, by entering into communion with Him, in prayer, in worship, in just dwelling with Him, every day, deep in His presence. Do that, and no matter where you are, you will dwell in the glory of the heights. Think about it. He’s given you a most amazing thing to have in every moment of your life . . . He’s given you a portable mountaintop.”
The Mission: Today, even in the most unlikely or lowest of circumstances, set up your portable mountaintop and dwell with God on the heights.
Exodus 25:8; John 1:14
The Portable Mountaintop
DAY 89
THE MYSTERY OF THE EIGHTH DAY
HE TOOK ME back into the Chambers of Scrolls, approached the ark, removed the scroll, unrolled it on the table to the passage he was looking for, then began translating it aloud: “‘You will celebrate the feast of the Lord for seven days, with a complete rest on the first day and a complete rest on the eighth day.’ It’s speaking of the Feast of Tabernacles,” he said. “But there’s something strange about it. It says you will celebrate the feast for seven days, with a rest on the Eighth Day. How do you get an Eighth Day from a seven-day feast? Seven is the number of the days in the feast and the days of creation. Every week there are seven days. So then what is the Eighth Day?”
“There is no Eighth Day.”
“No,” said the teacher. “And yet there is. If the seventh day speaks of the end, then of what does the Eighth Day speak?”
“The day after the end?”
“Yes,” said the teacher. “Eight speaks of that which comes after the end.”
“But nothing can come after the end . . . or it wouldn’t be the end.”
“Exactly,” he replied. “That’s the point. It contradicts everything else. Seven is the number of the days of the creation. But eight is the number that transcends the creation, that breaks out of time . . . the number beyond numbers, of time beyond time.”
“And so what exactly happens on the Eighth Day of the feast?”
“It’s a mystery,” he said. “It’s called Shemini Atzeret. It means the Gathering of the Eighth Day. The Feast of Tabernacles is the last of the holy days appointed by God, the final feast. So it speaks of the end, the end of days.”
“The end of time,” I said, “and then comes the Eighth Day.”
“It’s the very last day appointed by God . . . the mystery day. And those who belong to God belong to the Eighth Day. And when the creation ends, they will enter it . . . the day beyond days, when the finite yields to the infinite . . . and its limitations are no more . . . the age beyond ages . . . eternity.”
He paused for a moment before continuing, “And one more secret.”
“What?”
“Those who live in the Spirit can partake of the Eighth Day . . . even now.”
“How?”
“Go beyond the end . . . beyond the end of yourself . . . and you’ll find out.”
The Mission: Seek today to live beyond your circumstances, beyond the world, beyond the finite, in the day beyond days, in the Eighth Day.
Leviticus 23:39; Romans 6:11; 2 Corinthians 5:1–6; Revelation 20:11
The Mystery of the Eighth Day I–III
DAY 90
THE LAND OF GEZARAH
WE WERE SITTING on the ridge of a mountain we had often visited and gazing out into the distance. The teacher was holding a parchment.
“This is the command concerning the scapegoat, how it was to be led out into the wilderness.”
He began reading it.
“‘He shall send away the goat by the hand of a man who stands in readiness into the wilderness. And the goat will bear upon himself all the iniquities to a land not inhabited . . . ’
“So where did the go
at go?” asked the teacher.
“Into the wilderness,” I replied.
“To a ‘land not inhabited.’ It’s this,” he said, as he pointed to one of the words on the parchment. “It’s the word gezarah. The scapegoat had to be led to the land of gezarah.”
“What’s the land of gezarah?”
“Gezarah comes from the root word gazar. Gazar means cut off, excluded, or destroyed. So the land of gezarah means a place that is cut off, excluded, uninhabited, a place where no one can dwell.”
“No one except the scapegoat.”
“Yes,” he replied. “And when Isaiah prophesied of Messiah’s death, he used the same word. He said, ‘He was cut off out of the land of the living for the transgression of My people to whom the stroke was due.’ The words cut off are a translation of gazar, as in the land of gezarah.”
“So then, in some way, the Messiah goes to a land cut off, excluded, destroyed, uninhabited, and where no one can dwell.”
“As the scapegoat carries the sins of the people to the land of gezarah.”
“So then, Messiah carries our sins to the land of gezarah.”
“And what does that mean,” asked the teacher, “that He carried your sins to the land of gezarah?”
“It means . . . my sins are cut off. And no one can go to where they are.”
“Yes,” said the teacher, “they are where no one can dwell. No one can visit them . . . not even you. So you can never go there, to visit them or to dwell with them. They’re gone, taken away, excluded, and cut off . . . forever . . . in the land of gezarah.”
The Mission: Say good-bye to your sins, to your guilt, to your past, and to all that has been removed. Let it go and cut it off forever—in the land of gezarah.
Leviticus 16:21–22; Psalm 103:12; Isaiah 44:22; 53:8
Azazel
DAY 91
THE SHADOW
IT WAS A dark night. There was no moon. And only a few stars could be seen in the desert sky . . . just darkness and the howling of the cold night winds.
“Are you afraid of the dark?” asked the teacher.
“Sometimes,” I replied.
“In the Scriptures, darkness is a symbol of evil. Darkness is an absence, the absence of light. So too is evil . . . ”
“Evil is an absence?”
“Evil is not so much a reality as the absence of a reality. It is not of the creation, but a denial of creation, a negation of what is, the negation of God. And so it can’t exist on its own, but only in opposition to existence.”
“What does that mean?”
“Truth exists on its own. It just is. But a lie cannot exist without truth. A lie is a twisting of the truth and so it can only exist by the truth, and in the denial of it. So too life exists without death. But death cannot exist without life. Death only exists as the negation of life. And good can exist without evil. But evil cannot exist without good. Evil is the denial of the good.”
“It’s the force of opposition,” I said.
“Yes,” he replied, “and in Hebrew that which opposes, that which goes against, is called the sahtan.”
“Sahtan,” I repeated, and paused until it hit me. “Satan! You can have God without Satan, but you can’t have Satan without God.”
“Yes,” he said. “So we can only discern darkness, because light exists, and what is false because the true exists, and what is wrong because the right exists. So then evil is actually . . . ”
“A witness,” I said, “a hostile witness, that, despite itself, testifies of the truth.”
“Yes. The witness of a shadow. The darkness of falsehood bears witness that the Truth exists. The darkness of hatred bears witness that Love exists. And the darkness of evil bears witness that God exists. So never let your heart lose its focus by dwelling on evil. But seek always to see the Good, which is always there, beyond it and above it, on the throne, to which even evil must bear witness and bow its knee.”
The Mission: Today, practice seeing through the darkness of every problem or evil that confronts you—to the good that lies beyond it.
John 3:20–21; 8:24; 18:37
The Strategies of Warfare I–IV
DAY 92
THE SECRET ISRAEL
WE WERE WATCHING a shepherd leading his flock through a long canyon when we noticed a second flock and shepherd descending the bordering hills to join them. The two flocks became one.
“Two peoples of God,” said the teacher, “have dwelt on the earth for the last two thousand years: the children of Israel, the Jewish people, and the followers of Messiah, the Christians, the church. For most of that time they have been at enmity with each other, each seeing the other as an alien presence. But the two are joined together in a mystery. Messiah is the Shepherd of Israel. But He is also the Shepherd of those who follow Him from all nations, the church. So He told His Jewish disciples: ‘I have other sheep that are not of this pen . . . ’”
“The church and Israel are two flocks with one Shepherd, the Messiah.”
“But the mystery goes deeper,” said the teacher. “In the Book of Ephesians it is written that the one who follows Messiah, the true Christian, has become a fellow citizen in the commonwealth of Israel. Thus the two are joined together. The church, in reality, is a Jewish entity. The church doesn’t replace Israel, but complements it. The church is, in spirit, Jewish. It is the Israel of Spirit. What the Jewish people are in flesh and blood and in the realm of the physical, the church is in the realm of spirit. To the one people belongs a Promised Land of earth; to the other a Promised Land of heaven. To the one belongs a Jerusalem of mountains and stone; to the other, the heavenly Jerusalem. The one is a people physically gathered out from the nations; the other, a people spiritually gathered. The one is born of the promise through flesh and blood; the other, born by the Spirit. The one comprises Messiah’s family of flesh and blood; the other, His family by spirit. The one reaps a harvest of fruit and grain; the other a harvest of new life. And as the spirit is joined to the body, so the two are by nature intrinsically bound.”
“But the two have been separated,” I said.
“Yes,” said the teacher, “to the detriment of each. But the consummation of the one will not come without the other, nor the fulfillment of the other without the one. For when the spirit and the body are separated, it is death. But when the spirit and the body are again united, what is it?”
“Life,” I said. “It means life from death.”
The Mission: Today, seek to find the riches of the Jewish roots of your faith and your secret identity as a spiritual Hebrew, an Israelite of God.
Genesis 12:3; John 10:16; Ephesians 2:11–22
The Israel of Spirit
DAY 93
THE BRIDE IN THE TENT
BEHOLD THE CALAH,” said the teacher, as he drew my attention to a young woman in the tent village. “It’s how you say the bride in Hebrew. Do you remember when the bridegroom made his visit? It was for her.”
“And yet she’s still here,” I said. “She’s the bride but not yet married.”
“In the Hebrew wedding, the bridegroom journeys to the house of the bride. There in that house, or tent, the covenant is made. They are from that moment on considered bride and groom, husband and wife. But the bridegroom must then leave the bride and her house and journey back to where he came from. The two are joined in the covenant of marriage. But they don’t see each other until the day of the wedding. They spend their time preparing for that day.”
“But for the bride, it seems as if nothing’s changed. She still lives with her family in that tent. She’s still doing her daily chores. Her surroundings are the same. Her life is the same. She’s married, but what’s changed?”
“She’s changed,” he said. “She is now the calah!”
“I don’t understand.”
“Two thousand years ago the Bridegroom journeyed to the house of the bride, God journeyed to this world, to our house, to our lives. And, likewise, it was to make a covenant.
According to the mystery, the bridegroom must leave the bride’s house and return home. So Messiah then left this world to return to heaven. So these now are the days of the separation. The Groom is in His house, heaven. And we, as the bride, are in our house, this world. And if you’ve said yes to the Bridegroom’s covenant, you are as she is. You’re still in the same tent, this present world. Things around you may look the same and feel the same. Your life, your circumstances may look unchanged. But something very big has changed . . . you. It is not the tent that has changed, or your world, but you. And so you are no longer of the world. You’re in the world, but no longer of it. You no longer belong to your circumstances, nor to your past, nor to your sins and limitation. No longer are you bound to these things. You don’t belong to the world. You belong to the Bridegroom. You’re free. You’re the calah!”
The Mission: Live this day as the bride in the tent—as one no longer bound by your circumstances, but belonging to the Bridegroom—free of this world.
John 17:9–18; 2 Corinthians 11:12; 1 Peter 2:11–12
The Great Preparation
DAY 94
THE LAW OF THE FALLOW GROUND
WE WERE ON our way back from the city, having finished a number of errands, when we arrived at one of the agricultural settlements. We walked by several fields of grain until we came to an open area that appeared neglected.
“Do you know what this is?” he asked. “It’s called the ‘fallow ground.’ It’s the ground purposely left unsown, unreaped, and unharvested. You see, if one works the same land the same way over and over again, the soil becomes depleted and the land grows less and less productive. Therefore, farmers would, every so often, allow a field to rest, to lie fallow, unsown and unreaped. So if we planted on ground that had been allowed to lie fallow, what might we expect to happen?”
The Book of Mysteries Page 14