“I die.”
“You have a job,” he said. “You get fired.”
“I can’t find another job. I sink into poverty and starve to death.”
“Notice,” said the teacher, “each of our worst case scenarios end with the same thing—death. Now if you’re a child of God, if you’re saved, what happens after your worst scenarios?”
I paused for a moment. “I go to heaven.”
“Heaven,” he said, “with no more pain and no more sorrows. Your worst case scenario . . . is heaven! All your anxieties, all your fears . . . are ultimately based on heaven...streets of gold . . . perfect peace . . . unending joy . . . That’s what you have to be afraid of? Think about that. All your fears and anxieties end up in the most beautiful and joyous place you could ever imagine; then once you’ve resolved that, what do you have to be afraid of ever again? Look to the end. Look to heaven. And live a life of confidence that is beyond fear. For the truth of the matter is, for a child of God, the worst case scenario . . . is heaven!”
The Mission: Take your fear, your worry, your anxiety to its end—heaven. And with heaven as your worst scenario, overcome to a fear-free life.
1 Corinthians 2:9; Philippians 1:21–23; Colossians 1:5; 2 Timothy 4:6–8
The Anti-Fear and Anxiety Solution
DAY 267
FIRSTFRUITFULNESS
THE TEACHER LED me into a garden filled with laborers hard at work harvesting the olive trees and over to a low stone wall where we both sat down. The laborers then approached the teacher with a basket full of olives they had just harvested from the trees.
“God commanded man to be fruitful,” he said. “Beyond physical fruit, we were to have brought forth the fruits of love, righteousness, truth, joy, peace, godliness, and much more. But with the fall of man and the beginning of sin, we lost the ability to bear the fruit we were called to bear.”
He looked down at the basket of olives.
“On what Hebrew holy day did Messiah rise from death?”
“The Day of the Firstfruits.”
“It had to do with fruit. So the resurrection has to do with the power of fruitfulness, that we might bear the fruits we were created to bear. But it wasn’t just about fruit. And this is not just a basket of fruit. This is a basket of firstfruits. Messiah rose on the Day of the Firstfruits. So the resurrection not only has to do with fruitfulness, but with firstfruitfulness. And so the power it gives us is not only the power of fruitfulness, but the power of firstfruitfulness.”
“And what is the power of firstfruitfulness?” I asked.
“It’s the power to bear the fruits of God in circumstances where those fruits have never been borne, and from the ground that has never before been able to bring them forth. It’s the power to produce the firstfruits of love, the firstfruits of joy, the firstfruits of hope, the firstfruits of repentance, the firstfruits of forgiveness, the firstfruits of life. It’s the power to bring forth hope where there is no hope, and love where there is no love, joy where there is no joy, forgiveness where there has been no forgiveness, victory where there has been no victory, and life where there is no life. It was from just such a ground that the miracle of the resurrection took place . . . a ground of darkness, hopelessness, and death. And yet from that came forth the firstfruits of new life. It was so you could do likewise. And now you have a new command: Be ye not only fruitful . . . from now on . . . be ye firstfruitful.”
The Mission: Today, be not only fruitful, but be firstfruitful. Where there is no fruit of love, or hope, forgiveness, or joy, be the first one to bear them.
2 Chronicles 31:5; Matthew 5:44; 1 Corinthians 15:20
The Power of the Bikoreem
DAY 268
THE DEATH OF THE ZACHAR
MOST OF THE students had gone to bed. Only the teacher and I were left sitting around the fire.
“The Passover lamb,” he said, “was the first sacrifice offered by the nation of Israel and the archetype of all sacrifices. What do we know of it?”
“The Hebrews were told to kill the lamb and put its blood on their doors.”
“But what kind of lamb?” he asked. “The lamb had to be spotless, a year old . . . And it had to be a male.”
“Is that significant?” I asked.
“It’s the Passover lamb,” he said. “Every detail is significant. And in this one detail is a mystery. The word for male is the Hebrew zachar. Zachar also means the remembrance, the recounting, the mention, and the record. So when the Passover Lamb was killed, the zachar was killed. And to kill the zachar is to end the remembrance, to destroy the record, to wipe out the memory.” The teacher got up to place some small sticks on the fire, then sat back down and continued. “Messiah died on Passover as the Passover Lamb. Thus He was also the Zachar . . . the Zachar of our sins. And when He died, it was the death of the Zachar. And when the Zachar dies, the remembrance of our sins also dies. The record of our guilt is destroyed. And the memory of our shame is no more. In the Book of Jeremiah, God promised to make a new covenant. In the new covenant He said, ‘I will remember their sins no more,’ or in Hebrew, ‘I will zachar no more their sins.’ Messiah became the Zachar of our sins . . . and then was killed . . . So the Zachar was no more . . . that God’s zachar, God’s remembrance, of our sins would be no more.”
“When the zachar died in Egypt, the Hebrews were released from their bondage and set free to fulfill their calling.”
“Yes,” said the teacher. “In the death of Messiah, the Zachar, is the end of God’s remembrance of sin, but it’s also the power to end your own remembrance of your own sin and of the sins of others. So if you believe in the death of the Zachar, you must end the remembrances of sin in your life. It is then that you’ll be released, and leave the old, and enter the fullness of your calling . . . when the Zachar is no more.”
The Mission: Take all your sins and all that haunts you and cast it onto the Zachar. Reckon it dead in His death. Do likewise with the sins of others.
Exodus 12:3; Jeremiah 31:31–34; 1 Corinthians 5:7; Hebrews 10:14–17
The Nisan Lamb
DAY 269
THE PRIEST KING
IN THE CHAMBER of Garments were two wooden boxes. The teacher placed them each on the wooden table, then carefully removed their contents.
“This,” he said, “was the crown of the king, the descendant of David. And this,” he said, as he placed the second object on the table, something of a mix between a crown and a turban, “was the crown of the high priest, the descendant of Aaron. These are the two crowns representing the two offices and the two houses of Israel. No man could wear them both. The king could never minister as priest, and the high priest could never reign as king. The Temple and the palace were separated by an unbridgeable chasm.”
“Why was the separation so important?” I asked.
“The true king of Israel was not man but God. So the king represented the kingship of God. On the other hand, the high priest represented the people in fallenness and sin. It was his ministry to reconcile a sinful people to God, to their King and Judge.”
“So then the King of Israel . . . God, was the Judge. And the high priest was something of a defense attorney before the Judge. So the two offices had to be kept separate.”
“Exactly,” said the teacher. “And yet there came a word to the prophet Zechariah that one day the two offices would become one. Messiah would be both King and High Priest. Yeshua, Jesus, the Messiah, was born of the royal line of David, the line of kings. And yet His ministry was to offer up the sacrifice of atonement, the act not of the king but the priest. Only the high priest could offer up the sacrifice of Messiah. The only other one who could do it is Messiah . . . as the Priest King.”
“Is it crucial,” I asked, “that He was both Priest and King?”
“It is. Think about it. What would happen if the judge deciding your case could become your defense attorney and still remain the judge—your case is over. So if the King of the universe, the Judge of all existence
, God, the Almighty . . . becomes your Priest, your Defense Attorney . . . then your case is over, your guilt is over, your judgment is gone. And there’s no more condemnation.”
“So if the Judge of all becomes your defense, then all judgment is gone.”
“Yes. And He has . . . and it is. The Almighty has become your Defense Attorney. That means you’re free . . . in the miracle of the Priest King.”
The Mission: The Judge of all has become your Defense Attorney. Therefore, start living today a judgment- and condemnation-free life.
Psalm 110:4; Zechariah 6:12–13; Romans 8:31–34
The Priest King
DAY 270
THE APOSTASIA
THE TEACHER PLACED an old brown book on the wooden table in the Chamber of Books and turned to a page so faded one could barely make out the words on the right side or the image on the left.
“It looks like a worn-away image of Adam and Eve,” I said, “in the garden.”
“It is,” he said. “But we speak now not of the creation but the apostasia.”
“What’s an apostasia?”
“In the Book of Second Thessalonians it is written that the age will not end until first comes a falling away. The words falling away are a translation of the Greek word apostasia. Apostasia comes from two Greek root words. The first, apo, means to depart from. The second, stasis, means the stand or state of. So apostasia means to depart from one’s stand and from one’s state. Thus, before the end of the age there will be a mass departing, a moving away from the stand of faith, from the Word of God, and from truth. So the first meaning of apostasia has to do with faith and the Word. But the second concerns the departure from the state of being.”
“Why is that?” I asked. “How do the two go together?”
“The creation came from the Word. From the Word comes the creation. So the departure from the Word will lead to a departure from the state of being.”
“What does that mean?”
“Look at the book,” he said. “On one side is the fading away of the Word. On the other is the fading away of the image of creation. An age that witnesses the falling away from faith and the Word will also witness a falling away from the image of creation, from the state of being. It means that before the end of the age, there will not only be a falling away from faith, but a falling away from being . . . the departure of men from the stasis or state of manhood, the departure of women from the stasis or state of womanhood, of fathers from the state of fatherhood, of mothers from the state of motherhood, and of man from the stasis and state of humanity.”
“So what does one do in the days of apostasy?”
“In the age of departure from the Word, you must hold all the stronger. You must commit to hold all the more strongly to the Word, the faith, and the stand. And the more you hold the Word, the more you will find your stasis, the person you were created to be . . . And you will stand.”
The Mission: Take a command from the New Testament and fully carry it out today. Commit to live your life all the more by the Word of God.
Ephesians 6:13; Philippians 2:15; 2 Thessalonians 2:3; 2 Timothy 3:1–4
The Stasis
DAY 271
THE YOM
THE TEACHER HAD asked me to meet him in the Chamber of Vessels. He was wearing a white linen robe and standing in front of the Temple veil.
“Is that the robe of the priest?” I asked.
“No,” he said, “it’s a robe worn on ‘the Yom,’ ‘the Day,’ the holiest day of the year, Yom Kippur. It’s what observant Jews wear on the Day of Atonement. It’s called the kittel. It’s actually a burial shroud.”
“A burial shroud? Why would they wear that on Yom Kippur?”
“Because Yom Kippur is a shadow of the Day of Judgment, when all is sealed, when we will all stand before God face-to-face beyond the veil, and when all sin is dealt with and all evil separated from God forever.”
He was silent for a few moments as if lost in thought. Then he spoke. “And those who have chosen the darkness and to reject the salvation given them will have chosen separation from God, which is hell. For, in the end, there are only two destinies: heaven and hell . . . heaven and God’s mercy for those who have chosen salvation. And the key is there on Yom Kippur, as the high priest enters the presence of God, bringing with him the blood of the sacrifice, the atonement. Of what does that speak?”
“The blood of Messiah, the sacrifice, the atonement.”
“Yes. But note, the high priest must take the blood from outside the holy place, from the altar in the court, before he passes beyond the veil into God’s presence. So too it is here, outside the holy place of God’s dwelling, that we must each partake of the atonement, on this side of the veil, in this life, and in this world, where the altar of Messiah is . . . while we still have breath and before we pass beyond the veil to the other side. And what then comes after that day?”
“The Day of Atonement leads into the Feast of Tabernacles.”
“Yes, the last and greatest of celebrations, the shadow of heaven. You see, God’s will is not hell, but heaven . . . so much so that He would even give up His own life and bear hell and judgment in our place. And I am convinced that if it was only you or me who needed to be saved, if it was only one person, He still would have done it. It is Yom Kippur’s ultimate mystery, that it is God Himself who becomes our Kippur, our sacrifice on the altar . . . and the greatest love we could ever fathom . . . the love we must come to know and take part in . . . before we pass beyond the veil . . . on that Day.”
The Mission: No one knows when they will pass beyond the final veil. Live this day as if it were your last. What must you do?
Romans 14:11–12; 2 Corinthians 5:10, 20–6:2; 1 John 4:17–18
The Mystery of the Three Yom Kippurs
DAY 272
THE SECRET OF THE DESMIOS
ARE YOU WILLING,” he asked, “to be part of an experiment?”
“OK,” I replied.
He led me to a dimly lit chamber. There was some sunlight streaming in from a small open window and a wooden stool on which he asked me to sit. So I did.
“You need to stay here,” said the teacher, “until I get back.”
So I sat there in the darkness, trying to keep my mind occupied with things unrelated to my surroundings. But I ended up spending most of my time thinking about how slowly time was elapsing in that room. Finally he returned.
“How was it?” he asked.
“Taking into account the circumstances,” I said, “pretty bad.”
“And yet Paul the apostle went through the same thing, but not as an experiment, but as a major part of his ministry and life.”
“Imprisoned in something like this?”
“Imprisoned often in something much worse than this. In such circumstances it would have been natural to grow angry, frustrated, depressed, bitter, and hopeless, to let one’s heart be darkened by the darkness of his circumstances. But Paul never did. From one of his prison cells he sang praises, from another he ministered God’s love in hope of bringing salvation to his captors, and from yet another he wrote the sacred words of Scripture. Out of his imprisonment came forth the Word of God. He was called a desmios, a prisoner. Desmios speaks of one who is bound, shackled, impeded, even disabled. But the desmios Paul, even in prison, was never bound. Even in chains, he was never shackled. And even confined to the walls of a dungeon, he was never disabled or impeded. In fact, it was as a desmios that Paul, from prison, would minister to millions of lives throughout the ages. Paul refused to be defined by any circumstance, bound by any chain, hindered by any impediment, or limited by any set of walls. He knew that no chain can bind the will of God. Therefore, if you live your life to the fullest of God’s will, you will live unshackled and unstoppable. Live in the secret of desmios . . . and you will walk unbound.”
The Mission: Nothing can stop the one who walks fully in the will of God. Be that person and break every chain and obstacle to the contrary.
Ambassador in Chains
DAY 273
THE TZIPPURIM
IN THE BOOK of Leviticus,” he said, “a unique sacrifice is performed on the day of a leper’s healing—the sacrifice of the tzippurim, the birds, specifically two birds. The priest takes the first bird and sacrifices it over running water. Then he dips the second bird in the water and blood of the first. Then, with that blood and water, the leper is sprinkled seven times and pronounced clean. Centuries after the giving of the ordinance, a leper named Naaman is told by the prophet Elisha to dip himself seven times in the running waters of the Jordan River. He obeys. And as he does, he is healed of his leprosy. Note the reappearance of the ancient elements: the leper, the running water, the dipping, the number seven, the healing. But the difference is it’s not a bird in the waters, but a man.”
“And the other life,” I said, “the sacrifice. And if it’s a bird for a bird, then the sacrifice would have to be a man for a man . . . and it would have to be brought to the same running waters, the Jordan River.”
“Centuries later, the other life appears. Messiah, the sacrifice, comes to the same running waters, to the Jordan River. And who is waiting there? John the Baptist, of the line of Aaron, a priest, the very one given charge concerning the sacrifice by running waters. The sacrifice must be joined to the running waters. So John dips Messiah in the running waters of the Jordan. And what is the baptism? The symbol of Messiah’s sacrifice. So a priest symbolically performs the sacrifice in the running waters where the leper was cleansed and healed.”
“But that priest dipped, baptized, multitudes of others in those same waters.”
The Book of Mysteries Page 39