Yosef y la esposa de Potifar 2

Yosef’s Fortitude

by with No Comment Biblical Studies

Resilience is not merely the ability to return to a previous state after a trial; it is the ability to continue growing—becoming better, stronger, more generous, and more committed—so that this world and humanity may be improved.

A modern synonym for “entereza” is resilience. Let us begin by defining it clearly:

RESILIENCE
It is a person’s capacity to adapt and overcome difficult or traumatic situations. In simple terms, resilience is the ability to recover and move forward after facing challenges and hardships in life.

If there is a biblical figure whose life is striking—other than Yeshua and Moshe—it is Yosef, the son of Ya‘akov, precisely because of his capacity for recovery, his fidelity to his principles, and his moral strength.

It is impossible to read his story without feeling bothered by the attitude of his brothers who, even if they had motives, cannot be justified for wanting to kill their younger brother—whom they should have protected.

But after that plan was stopped by Y’hudah, we see a boy barely sixteen years old thrown into an unknown, cruel, unjust, and materialistic world.

Though Scripture does not explicitly describe his intimate and total dependence on Yehovah, that is the only possible explanation for his ability to recover and rebuild his life while guarding his heart from dark feelings like bitterness, resentment, and revenge—feelings that, to some extent, we might even consider understandable.

We do not know what kind of spiritual formation Yosef received from his father; but his behavior allows us to infer that he was sensitive to the God of his ancestors Avraham, Yitzjak, and Ya‘akov.

How did Yosef maintain his identity beneath Egyptian garments when success finally came his way and life smiled upon him?

This is where the modern concept of resilience enters.

Resilience is not merely the capacity to return to a former state after a trial; it is the strength to continue growing—becoming better, stronger, more generous, and more committed—making this world and its people better.

Yosef Could Have Founded the Woke Movement

The woke culture is defined as a mindset or attitude of heightened sensitivity toward social, political, and economic issues related to injustice, inequality, and discrimination—racism, sexism, homophobia, etc.

Yosef faced several of these conditions head-on, yet he never fell into victimhood, something very common among many who embrace this movement today. Instead, he held on to his faith, his integrity, and his trust in God while navigating extremely adverse circumstances.

Let us look at some aspects of his resilience:

  • Resilience in the face of family rejection:
    Rejected and sold as a slave by his own brothers out of jealousy, Yosef did not allow hatred or resentment to define his life.
  • Adaptation to change:
    As a slave in Egypt, Yosef did not give in to despair. Instead, he worked diligently and faithfully, earning the trust of Potiphar, who placed him over his entire household.
  • Moral firmness:
    When tempted by Potiphar’s wife, Yosef displayed integrity by rejecting her, even though this cost him a false accusation and imprisonment. His ability to stand firm in his values, even at great cost, reveals his resilient character.
  • Patience in adversity:
    While in prison, Yosef continued to trust in God’s purpose for his life. Rather than giving up, he used his administrative abilities and his gift of dream-interpretation, which ultimately led to his release and promotion.
  • Forgiveness and reconciliation:
    When he had the chance to take revenge on his brothers, Yosef chose forgiveness and reconciliation, showing that he had not allowed suffering to embitter him but had allowed it to strengthen him.

This is resilience. Yosef’s resilience was possible because he never lost sight of God’s purpose for his life. His faith and hope in the divine plan enabled him to overcome suffering with courage and turn his trials into opportunities to glorify God and save his family—and many others.

And What About Us?

Now comes the essential question: What about us? What about you?
How resilient are you when facing failures, criticism, mistakes, persecution, trials, and everything else that comes your way?

In today’s culture, people often respond to injustice or hardship with violence, avoidance, blaming others, seeking revenge, or withdrawing in an attempt to avoid future pain. Seldom do we choose to leave those experiences behind, learn from them, and move forward with a clear resolve to do what is right and to bless others.

Those of us who have encountered Yeshua—and who have been led by Him to obey the Torah and to know Yehovah our Father—are equipped to be resilient. Our strength does not come from ourselves but from Someone greater, who takes our weaknesses and equips us to return love for hatred, generosity for selfishness, forgiveness for offense, and goodness for evil. After all, that was the model of our Lord and Messiah, Yeshua.

“For I know very well the plans I have for you,” declares Yehovah, “plans for welfare and not for calamity, to give you a future and a hope.”
Jeremiah 29:11

So it is time to leave behind the mistreatment suffered in the past—whether caused by others or by life itself. Let us rise up, face forward, strengthen our roots, and do the best we can with what is in our hands.

Let us learn from the Japanese bamboo, a classic example of resilience. During its first years, bamboo barely grows in height; instead, it develops a strong and extensive root system. Later, in just a few weeks, it can grow several meters. This sudden growth is possible because of its strong foundation. Bamboo teaches us that resilience often involves invisible, underground growth that prepares us for future challenges.

Esau Jacob

Seeing Life the Way Ya’akov Did

by with No Comment Biblical Studies

You will never find a tombstone celebrating business accomplishments or financial success. When a tombstone speaks, it honors the person as a father, mother, husband, wife, or friend.

Ya’akov saw his brother Esav for the first time after many years of living in hiding. In their youth, Esav burned with anger, believing Ya’akov had stolen his birthright. Now, as they met again, Ya’akov tried to offer Esav part of his flock as a gesture of peace. Esav refused and said:

I have plenty, my brother; keep what is yours.
But Ya’akov replied: “No, please… take my gift, for seeing your kindly face is like seeing the face of ’Elohim. Accept this present I have brought you, for ’Elohim has favored me, and I have everything.

Genesis 33:9–11

A Life Lesson

There is a deep contrast between what Esav meant when he said, “I have plenty,” and what Ya’akov meant when he declared, “I have everything.”

Esav, focused on material possessions, spoke in quantitative terms. To him, plenty meant owning much. His identity was tied to what he possessed. If he ever lost his wealth, he felt he would have nothing left.

Ya’akov, however —surrounded by his family and aware of Yehovah’s favor— could confidently say, “I have everything.”
Because the most essential things—life, health, family, purpose—cannot be purchased. They are gifts from the Almighty.

For generations, wise men have repeated this truth, yet we still resist it. Ask the elderly, and they will tell you their deepest regrets: not spending more time with family, not caring for their health, not appreciating the simple blessings of life. You will never find a tombstone celebrating business accomplishments or financial success. When a tombstone speaks, it honors the person as a father, mother, husband, wife, or friend. And when there were no such virtues, the stone remains silent.

Society praises material success, but in the end, that is not how a human being is remembered… nor how Yehovah measures a life.

Professional achievement is good and often necessary. Yehovah designed us to grow, build, and prosper. But ignoring what is priceless until it slips away is a tragedy. Ya’akov knew he had “everything” because the most important things were intact.

Think about it:
What wealthy man on his deathbed wouldn’t give his entire fortune for one more year of life?
Or even one more week?
Who among us would trade health for money? No one.
Yet many healthy, capable people live as if they possessed nothing, because they see life through Esav’s lens: always aware of what’s missing, never of what’s already present.

If you measure your life the way Esav did, frustration will follow you. But if you embrace Ya’akov’s perspective, you’ll realize each morning that, in what truly matters, you already have everything.

Devotional Closing

Take a moment today to pause honestly.
Reflect on what Yehovah has already placed in your hands: your life, your health, your family, your faith, your purpose. Don’t take these things for granted. Don’t let the culture define what it means to “have.”

Pray this:

“Yehovah, open my eyes to recognize true wealth. Deliver me from Esav’s mindset that fixates on what is missing. Form in me the heart of Ya’akov—one that recognizes Your favor and knows that with You, I truly have everything.”

And tomorrow morning, rise with this conviction settled deep in your soul:
“I have everything, because Yehovah is with me.”

Sembrandoa tiempo

The Ancient Power of a Blessing

by with No Comment Biblical Studies

In all these cases, a blessing—in the biblical sense—is closely tied to the idea of giving something.

A blessing is a beautiful gesture of love. It can be given to others, and it can also be received. We bless someone because that person matters to us—someone for whom we desire good, someone we respect. And when someone blesses us, it lifts us up; it means that person genuinely wants the best for us.

It’s hard to think about a blessing, or the act of blessing, apart from the Christian context in which many of us learned the word. It’s rare to hear of someone blessing another outside a Christian Community setting, a congregation, or a gathering of believers.

The word blessing comes from the Latin benedicere, which simply means “to speak (dicere) well (ben): To say something good, to pronounce a good word over someone… by that definition, a blessing and a compliment do not seem all that different.

But what can we learn from this word in Hebrew?

בְּרָכָה (brajá)

The first time the concept of blessing (as an action) appears in Scripture is in the very first chapter of Genesis, when the Creator blesses the animals in the water and the air, commanding them to be fruitful and multiply. As we will see, a blessing in the Torah is always tied to granting something. In this case, the Eternal gives the animals the capacity to be fruitful and multiply.

The first time the word brajá appears as a noun in the Torah is in Genesis 12:2, where the Most High tells Abraham that He will bless him—and that Abraham himself will become a brajá.

Later we see how Ya’akov receives the brajá that belonged to Esav (Gen. 27:35–38). Again, a blessing is something “given” from father to son. We see this ritual again in Genesis 49, when Ya’akov blesses his sons.

Just as a father gives a blessing to his son, we also see how Yehovah, our heavenly Father, grants His blessings to us on earth:

…then I will command My blessing for you in the sixth year, and it will bring forth produce for three years.

Leviticus 25:21

In all these cases, a blessing—in the biblical sense—is closely tied to the idea of giving something. In this last example, it is an abundant harvest before the Jubilee year. In the case of fathers, they gave a portion of all they possessed (their inheritance) to their sons, with the firstborn receiving a double portion.

When we look at the Hebrew word brajá and examine its root, we find the word berej (ברך), which means “knee.” A blessing can move in two directions: a father blessing his child is one, and the other is when we bless our heavenly Father. In that case, we kneel before Him, as we see in the following passage:

…Solomon had made a bronze platform, five cubits long, five cubits wide, and three cubits high, and had placed it in the center of the court; he stood on it, then knelt down before all the congregation of Israel and spread out his hands toward heaven.

2 Chronicles 6:13

To this day, many people kneel to pray or to bless the Eternal. In Jewish tradition, when blessings are recited, it is customary to bend the knees as a sign of reverence, honoring this ancient practice.

Man praying to God

Restoring the Connection Between Heaven and Earth

by with One Comment Biblical Studies

The problem with our generation is that it ignores this reality: God is present, but it doesn’t know it because it is distracted.

The story of Jacob’s ladder is one of the most profound and beautiful scenes in all of Scripture. Jacob is fleeing—alone, tired, and uncertain. He has no stable home, no protection, and no idea what awaits him. Yet in the middle of that vulnerability, Yehováh reveals Himself in a surprising way: Jacob sees a ladder connecting earth to heaven, with angels ascending and descending upon it.

This moment is not merely a mystical vision. It is a message from the Most High—not only for Jacob, but for all of us:

God is not far. Heaven is still connected to earth. The divine presence still touches our reality.

In a time like ours, where so many feel spiritually disconnected—living with anxiety, loneliness, or confusion—this message is more needed than ever.

Jacob slept in an ordinary place, using a stone as a pillow. It wasn’t a “spiritual” site. It wasn’t a temple. There was no music, no special atmosphere. It was simply an empty spot along the road.

Yet there, the Almighty spoke to him.

This reminds us that Yehováh does not manifest Himself only in “special” places, but in the everyday moments:

— in a simple room,
— in a moment of exhaustion,
— or in the middle of uncertainty.

The Creator is not limited to temples or ceremonies. He steps into real life, just as He did with Jacob.

The ladder was not just any symbol—it represented something humanity had lost since Eden: direct connection with the heavenly realm.

The message is clear: Heaven is still open. The line of communication with the Most High is not closed.

Today, that connection seems weakened. We live surrounded by screens, noise, social media, distractions, endless schedules, and tired minds. Spirituality has become a distant concept for many. But Jacob’s vision reminds us that heaven never closed—we are the ones who stopped looking upward.

The angels ascended first and then descended. This reveals that the Most High is always at work—organizing, sending help, guarding, and guiding.

Even when Jacob couldn’t see it, even when he felt alone, the spiritual realm was active.

Our society trusts only in what it sees, feels, or can measure. Yet this vision teaches that there is an invisible movement of the Creator bringing purpose, order, and protection.

Even if you don’t feel it, God is working.
Even if you don’t see it, He is still moving pieces on your behalf.

The story doesn’t end with the ladder. Jacob wakes up and says:

“Surely Yehováh is in this place, and I did not know it.”

That is the problem of our generation: God is present, but we don’t recognize Him because we are distracted.

Restoring the connection means making room for silence, returning to prayer, studying the Word, inviting Yehovah, our Creator into every area of our lives, and living with awareness of His presence. It is not about complicated rituals, but about returning to a living, real relationship with the Most High.

For Jacob, this vision was a turning point. It shaped his identity, his journey, and his relationship with Yehovah. He understood he was not walking alone and that the divine purpose for his life remained intact.

Today, we need that revelation again:

Heaven is not far—it is touching the earth.
The Creator is not distant—He is drawing near.
The Almighty has not stopped speaking—we must open our hearts.

Jacob’s ladder is an invitation to listen again, to look upward again, to restore our connection with the eternal. It is a reminder that even in moments of exhaustion or uncertainty, heaven remains open and God remains near.

Shalom!

Partida de Ya'akov

Jacob (Ya’akov), the Patriarch Who Transformed History

by with No Comment Biblical Studies

Mystical dreams and astonishing encounters marked Jacob’s life—a life full of trials, hardships, and challenges through which his faith was continually tested.

Few biblical figures hold the prominence of Ya’akov (Jacob) in the history of the people of Israel. Ya’akov was the father of the twelve men who became the founders of the tribes of Israel. Grandson of Avraham and son of Itzjak (Isaac), the promise of the Eternal was reaffirmed to him multiple times throughout Scripture. Mystical dreams and astonishing events marked his life, filled with trials and challenges that tested his faith.

Ya’akov is one of the few individuals in Scripture whose name was changed—a sign of the deep spiritual transformation that took place in his life through his experiences and prophetic purpose. But before he became Israel, the name he received at birth was Ya’akov.

יַעֲקֹב — Ya’akov (Jacob)

As is the case with most Hebrew names, the name Ya’akov is tied to the circumstances surrounding his birth. Rivka, his mother, had previously received a revelation about the conception of twins in her womb, and the fact that they were already struggling with each other before birth was connected to the prophetic destiny of their descendants.

The moment of birth is described as follows:

When her days to give birth were completed, behold, there were twins in her womb. The first came out red, covered with hair like a garment; and they called his name Esau. Afterward his brother came out with his hand grasping Esav’s heel; so his name was called Ya’akov. And Itzjak was sixty years old when she bore them.

Genesis 25:24–26

The detail of the heel is crucial. In Hebrew, the word for heel is akev, and Ya’akov was given his name because he emerged holding onto Esav’s heel. While the name is tied to this physical moment, it also carries a figurative meaning rooted in the Hebrew verb ‘akav, which means to follow closely behind, to overtake, or even to deceive.

The imagery resembles the English expression “hot on his heels,” describing someone following so closely that they are about to catch up. Hebrew uses this concept with even deeper and more nuanced metaphorical implications.

After Ya’akov deceived his father by making him believe he was Esav in order to receive the blessing, his brother lamented:

“Is he not rightly named Ya’akov? For he has supplanted (ya‘kveni) me these two times: he took my birthright, and now he has taken my blessing.”

Genesis 27:36

Here Esav directly connects his brother’s name—originally tied to an incident at birth—with its metaphorical meaning, turning it into a wordplay and calling his brother a deceiver or supplanter.

The name Ya’akov also appears with a negative connotation in Jeremiah 9:4:

Let everyone beware of his neighbor, and put no trust in any brother; for every brother utterly deceives (akov ya‘akov), and every neighbor goes about as a slanderer.

The phrase “akov ya‘akov” uses the same Hebrew root twice, not two different words. It is a Hebrew way of intensifying the action—here, emphasizing the act of deception.

Despite all the difficulties Ya’akov experienced in life—or perhaps because of them—his destiny was shaped by the Most High, and eventually his name was changed to Israel. A spiritual “new birth” took place.

The prophet Hosea highlights both aspects of our patriarch’s nature:

“In the womb he took his brother by the heel (akav), and in his strength he wrestled (sará) with the Angel.”

Hosea 12:3

Akav is the root of Ya’akov. Sarah is the root of Israel.

Blind people

Are they blind like Isaac?

by with No Comment Biblical Studies

Growth takes time. Vision becomes clearer with each step. When someone wants to see, we can walk alongside them. But when someone refuses, the old saying proves true: There is no worse blind person than the one who chooses not to see.

Not only the House of Judah carries a veil that prevents them from recognizing the Messiah. The House of Israel as well—of which the church is a part—has a veil that keeps it from embracing its identity as Israel and from walking in the Torah of Yehovah.

Spiritual blindness has always been a recurring theme in Scripture. Yehovah warned His people through the prophets about their inability to see and hear—mirroring the very idols they chose to follow.

Yeshua also confronted the blindness of His generation. They witnessed His signs. They heard His teachings. Yet many failed to understand. A striking example is the resurrection of Lazarus.

A Miracle That Divided Hearts

Lazarus, come out!” The one who had died came out, his hands and feet wrapped in cloth, and his face covered. Yeshua said, “Unbind him and let him go.

John 11:43–44

Many religious leaders who witnessed this miracle believed. Yet others ran to the Pharisees, triggering a meeting of the Sanhedrin and a plot to kill Yeshua.

How can two groups see the same miracle, hear the same words, and walk away with opposite conclusions?

Because one group was spiritually blind.

Not physically—but in the deepest sense. They saw signs yet feared losing their influence more than they feared missing their Messiah.

Why Reasoning Alone Is Not Enough

Explaining spiritual truth to someone who is spiritually blind is like trying to describe colors to someone who has never seen, or music to someone who has never heard.

That is why forcing arguments rarely works.

But something very different happens when a person approaches with a genuine desire to learn. That person resembles the blind man whom Yeshua healed in stages:

I see people… like trees walking.

Mark 8:24

Growth takes time. Vision becomes clearer with each step. When someone wants to see, we can walk alongside them. But when someone refuses, the old saying proves true:

There is no worse blind person than the one who chooses not to see.

Can Spiritual Eyes Be Opened?

Luke gives us the answer.

Their eyes were kept from recognizing Him.

Luke 24:16

The disciples on the road to Emmaus walked with Yeshua Himself—and still could not recognize Him.

Not until He opened their eyes.

Their eyes were opened, and they recognized Him.

Luke 24:31

This truth humbles us:

We see only because Yehovah, in His mercy, has removed our veil.

That is why we cannot look down on those who do not yet understand. We didn’t arrive here by brilliance or effort. We arrived because Yehovah touched us.

Blindness in Both Houses: Judah and Israel

Shaul wrote:

A partial hardening has come upon Israel.

Romans 11:25

Traditionally this has been applied to Judah. Yet today we can clearly see that Ephraim—the church—also carries a partial blindness. Both groups have a veil.

But something extraordinary is happening.

Yehovah is lifting that veil from individuals in both houses. Men and women across the world can say, just like the disciples of Emmaus:

Did not our hearts burn within us as He opened the Scriptures to us.

Luke 24:32

We thank our Father for giving us sight. And we trust that He will also open the eyes of our loved ones. There are still many who must be gathered before the end.

…and then all Israel will be saved.

Romans 11:26

Yehovah is in full control.

When His time comes, both Judah and Ephraim will see clearly.

What Should We Do Until Then?

Here is our role while Yehovah completes His work:

  • Remain faithful.
    Continue growing in obedience to the Torah.
  • Live consistently.
    Ephraim is examining us closely. Our life must match our words.
  • Pray to stay firm on the narrow Way.
    We walk by His grace, not our strength.
  • Intercede for those who cannot yet see.
    Only Yehovah can remove the veil.
  • Stay sensitive to the Ruaj Kodesh.

Be ready to guide those whose hearts are awakening.

Final Thought

The veil is lifting. Hearts are awakening. Yehovah is calling people back to His covenant from both houses.

May we remain faithful, humble, and ready—until the day when all Israel sees clearly and the fullness of His plan is revealed.

Rebeca y los camellos

A Love Story Written by Yehovah

by with No Comment Biblical Studies

Selecting a wife who shared Abraham’s principles and faithfulness to the Most High was essential for the fulfillment of the promises given to Isaac and his descendants.

Throughout our lives, we face decisions that are truly pivotal—choices after which our path changes in significant ways. One of the most defining is the search for a spouse.

In the biblical narrative of Genesis 24, we find a profound lesson on obedience, faith, and the importance of seeking God’s will in matters as crucial as marriage.

Abraham, aware of the need to preserve God’s blessing upon his descendants, entrusted his most reliable servant with the mission of finding a wife for his son Isaac. To ensure that this woman would share the family’s faith and values, he instructed him not to seek a wife from among the daughters of the Canaanites.

After a long journey, the servant—trusting in divine guidance—prayed for a clear sign to identify the right woman. Then Rebekah appeared, showing remarkable hospitality by offering water to him and his camels, perfectly matching the criteria he had prayed for. Her actions confirmed that she was the one chosen by God. Selecting a wife who shared Abraham’s principles and faithfulness to the Most High was essential for the fulfillment of the promises given to Isaac and his descendants.

This account stands in contrast to the experience of other biblical figures, such as Esau, whose Canaanite wives brought grief to his parents because they did not share their faith. Likewise, Solomon’s heart was turned away from the God of Israel by his foreign wives, highlighting the consequences of binding one’s life to someone who does not walk in the same faith.

Abraham’s insistence on finding a suitable wife for Isaac was not about cultural exclusion, but about preserving purity of faith. God desired His people to remain set apart and faithful, protected from influences that could draw them away from true worship.

Abraham’s example teaches us the importance of seeking divine direction in major life decisions—especially marriage. It reminds us that faith, character, and loyalty to God are essential qualities for fulfilling His purposes, just as Proverbs 3:5–6 affirms:

“Trust in Yehovah with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. Acknowledge Him in all your ways, and He will make your paths straight.”

Pareja compartiendo

Your Couple is far from Ordinary

by with No Comment Biblical Studies

Abraham and Sarah stand out. Their story reminds us that faith never promises quick fixes or easy paths. On the contrary, it demands endurance, growth, and the courage to trust Yehovah even when the road darkens.

Every couple is a world of its own. Two lives, two histories, two characters shaped by unique family and cultural backgrounds. When those lives join, the family they form will be just as distinctive. No marriage is ordinary—yours included.

Among the many examples found in Scripture, Avraham and Sarah stand out. Their story reminds us that faith never promises quick fixes or easy paths. On the contrary, it demands endurance, growth, and the courage to trust Yehovah even when the road darkens.

When Faith Is Stretched

Jewish tradition teaches that Avraham faced ten major tests—each one tightening his faith like the strings of an instrument until it produced the tone Yehovah desired.

Some of those trials touched Sarah directly: famine, danger, abduction, humiliation, waiting, disappointment, and the long-delayed promise of a son. Their journey was anything but simple.

Yet in every struggle, Yehovah refined them. And as they matured, their marriage revealed something powerful: faith grows best in the soil of shared trials.

A Love That Endured

Avram was drawn to Saray’s beauty, only to learn she was barren—a devastating reality in the ancient world. Still, he remained loyal. He didn’t replace her. He didn’t look elsewhere. His covenant with her stood firm.

Later, in Egypt, fear clouded his judgment. He asked her to present herself as his “sister,” a choice that led to her abduction. Avram surely questioned himself afterward: “Why didn’t I trust Yehovah?” His mistake had consequences, but Yehovah intervened and restored Sarah unharmed.

Their story shows that even righteous people falter—but Yehovah’s mercy meets them in those moments.

“We glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance…

and perseverance, proven character… and proven character, hope.”

Romans 5:3–5

When Sarah Felt Like the Problem

Saray eventually reached a painful conclusion: “Yehovah has kept me from having children.” Out of desperation, she offered her servant Hagar to Avram. It was her attempt—misguided, yet sincere—to help fulfill the promise.

But even then, Avram never replaced her in his heart. She remained the woman Yehovah had chosen for him.

Years later, Yehovah transformed their names—Avram became Abraham, Saray became Sarah—and the long-awaited miracle arrived. Sarah conceived Yitsjak (Isaac), whose very name means laughter.

“Elohim has made me laugh,” she said, “and all who hear will laugh with me.”

Love Beyond Death

Nearly three decades after Yitsjak’s birth, Sarah died. And even in grief, Abraham honored her. He purchased a dignified burial place—the Cave of Machpelah—ensuring she had a resting place worthy of her life and legacy, and reserving a space beside her for himself.

Their love endured trials, mistakes, shame, joy, miracles, and loss.

It was not a perfect marriage. But it was a faithful one.

The Example They Left Us

The lives of Abraham and Sarah remind us that a strong marriage is not built on perfect moments but on steadfast commitment—especially when life presses hardest.

They supported one another.

They forgave one another.

They respected one another.

They walked together until the very end.

May Yehovah give us the strength to face life as they did.

And may our lives become examples that our children and grandchildren will want to follow.

Abraham y la tumba de Sarah

Not Looking Back: Faith, Grief, and the Legacy of Abraham

by with No Comment Biblical Studies

God had promised Abraham countless descendants like the stars of the heavens and the sand of the sea, yet he had only one son—Isaac—who was still unmarried at thirty-seven!

This week’s parashah speaks about the life of Sarah, and at the same time teaches us how the patriarch Abraham managed to endure trauma and pain in the final stage of his life.

Abraham was an old man and had already gone through two deeply painful experiences involving the people he loved most. The first was related to his son Isaac, whom he had waited for all his life. He and Sarah had lost hope, yet God promised they would have a son and that he would carry on the covenant. The years went by and Sarah did not conceive. She grew old, but the promise remained. At last, Isaac was born. There was joy. Sarah said, “God has made me laugh, and everyone who hears of it will laugh with me” (Gen. 21:6).

Sarah listening about her future pregnancy

Then came the unthinkable: God said to Abraham, “Take now your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love… and offer him as a burnt offering” (Gen. 22:2). Abraham did not argue or delay. Father and son traveled together, and at the final moment, a voice from heaven said, “Stop!” How does a father and son survive a trauma like this?

Then came a different kind of pain: Sarah died. She was his beloved wife, his companion on the journey, the one who left everything with him—land, home, and family. Twice she even risked her life by saying she was his sister to protect him.

So what does an old man like Abraham (the Torah calls him “old and advanced in years,” Gen. 24:1) do after all this? Surely his heart was heavy. He had obeyed Yehovah, yet many promises were still unfulfilled. God had promised him the land of Canaan, but when Sarah died, he didn’t own a single piece of it—not even enough to bury her. God had promised him countless descendants like the stars of the heavens and the sand of the sea, yet he had only one son—Isaac—who was still unmarried at thirty-seven. Humanly speaking, Abraham had every reason to be discouraged.

And yet, he did not remain paralyzed. The Torah says, “Abraham came to mourn for Sarah and to weep for her” (Gen. 23:2). Then immediately, we read: “Then Abraham rose up from before his dead…” After this, he focused on two things: buying land to bury Sarah and finding a wife for his son. These two actions were directly connected to God’s two promises: land and offspring. Abraham didn’t wait passively for God to act; he understood he needed to take responsibility.

How did Abraham overcome trauma and sorrow? How does someone move forward after nearly losing his only son and then losing his wife? What kept him going?

The Torah shows us two people who faced trauma in opposite ways: Noah and Lot’s wife. Noah, the most righteous man of his generation, obeyed Yehovah even as the rest of the world faced destruction, and through his obedience, he saved his life and his family. In contrast, Lot’s wife disobeyed the angels’ command and “looked back” as Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed. She became a pillar of salt—paralyzed by shock and unable to move forward. These two stories help us understand Abraham’s response after Sarah’s death. He chose to build the future rather than remain trapped in the past—as Lot’s wife did.

Abraham kept the promise in sight. Sarah was gone. Isaac was unmarried. He had no land or grandchildren. But he did not accuse God or give in to despair. Instead, he remained sensitive to Yehovah’s call to move forward and trust. That is how Abraham survived grief and shock.

May Yehovah spare us from such trials—but if they come, let us follow Abraham’s example: focus on the promise.

We are not here by accident. We are here because God wanted us here, and because there is a task we must fulfill. Discovering it is not always easy—it can take years and even bring frustration. Yet each of us has something God is calling us to do, a purpose to accomplish.

Let us not allow the past to chain us down. Instead, let us learn to endure pain like Abraham did, and keep our eyes on the promises of Yehovah for our lives.

Shalom!

Abraham e Isaac 2

Misleading Images in Biblical Narratives

by with One Comment Biblical Studies

When we read the Scriptures, we inevitably do so through certain paradigms. In other words, we read with “lenses” shaped by what we’ve been taught and conditioned to believe, and these lenses steer our understanding in a particular direction.

A paradigm is a collection of ideas, assumptions, norms, or traditions that are accepted without much questioning. Over time, they form a rigid framework of thought.

Was Abraham really about to sacrifice a little boy?

This is one of those cases. When we read about Abraham offering his son Yitsḥak (Isaac) in this week’s Parashah, most people picture a young child—maybe seven years old—being carried to the altar by his father. Under that assumption, the story feels like an attempted child sacrifice.

But when we examine the full context, we discover something very different. Isaac was not a small boy but a mature man—around 27 years old—who willingly submitted to the offering. He did not resist. In this light, he becomes a prophetic picture of the Messiah, who also carried the wood for His own sacrifice and willingly gave Himself up.

Was it really a boy who killed a giant?

Another well-known example is the story of David and Goliath. We are much more emotionally captured by the picture of a small boy facing a massive warrior than by a young adult confronting him. And so, when we read the story, the image taught by children’s books and cartoons instantly comes to mind, often without being challenged.

But here is the reality…

David was not a child. He was a young man, roughly the same height as King Saul—who, according to Scripture, was taller than everyone else around him. David tried on the king’s armor, and although he chose not to use it because he wasn’t trained for battle in it, the point remains: no one would attempt to place a grown man’s armor on a child. People were not that foolish.

And after striking Goliath down, David picked up the giant’s own sword and cut off his head. Could a small boy have wielded a weapon of that size and weight? Highly unlikely.

The Last Supper… in a Renaissance banquet hall?

A similar issue appears in the way we imagine Yeshua’s last supper with His disciples. Leonardo da Vinci’s 16th-century painting is world-famous, but it does not reflect the Hebrew culture or setting at all.

It looks like a posed group picture—everyone facing the same direction, seated at a long Western-style table. The disciples appear as older men, some nearly elderly. If that were accurate, they would have soon died after the resurrection, which would have been a poor plan for establishing a movement meant to change the world.

The food on the table doesn’t match the customs of the time, nor does the architecture of the room. And yet, when we read the Gospel accounts, that exact image often comes to our mind, overshadowing important details and stripping away the richness of its Hebrew roots.

So what happened?

Over time, many biblical scenes have been reshaped by culture, art, and tradition. Whether intentional or not, these reinterpretations removed Yeshua and His disciples from their Jewish context. This shift led to misunderstandings—not only of the historical and cultural background but also of prophetic meanings and symbolic patterns embedded in the text.

From such distortions, various doctrines emerged. Some became central to Christianity, yet they overlook the original context and purpose for which these narratives were given.

What should we do?

For all these reasons, we must be willing to set aside inherited traditions, cultural assumptions, and long-held misconceptions. Only then can we read Scripture with fresh eyes, rediscover what truly took place, and discern the proper meaning of these accounts—and how they speak into our lives today.