ARTICLES

This week’s Torah reading is Parashat Tetzaveh (Exodus 27:20-30:10). Read on Shabbat, February 28, 2026 / 9 Adar 5786. The following is a special devotional drawn from this week’s reading.

“You shall command the people of Israel that they bring to you pure olive oil beaten for the light, to cause a lamp to burn continually” (Exodus 27:20).

Parashat Tetzaveh continues the instructions for the Tabernacle, focusing on the priesthood and the sacred garments worn by Aaron and his sons. The portion begins with the command to keep the lamp burning continually. This light, fueled by pure oil, symbolizes steady devotion and ongoing awareness of God’s presence. It is not a light that flickers occasionally, but one that is tended with care day after day.

The detailed description of the priestly garments reveals that worship involves preparation and intentionality. The breastpiece, the ephod, the robe, and the engraved stones each carry meaning. The names of the tribes are placed over the priest’s heart, showing that leadership in God’s presence requires compassion and responsibility. Service before God is both sacred and relational.

Tetzaveh reminds us that holiness is sustained through faithfulness in routine acts. The daily tending of the lamp, the offering of incense, and the wearing of sacred garments speak of constancy. Spiritual life is not built on rare moments of inspiration alone. It grows through steady obedience, quiet prayer, and faithful attention to what God has entrusted.

Some may long for dramatic experiences of faith, yet this portion points to the power of consistency. Light remains when oil is replenished. Relationship deepens when hearts are carried before God in prayer. Each small act of devotion strengthens the larger structure of worship. God values the daily offering as much as the extraordinary one.

For those feeling weary, this reading encourages perseverance. Continue tending the lamp. Continue showing up in prayer and service. God sees the quiet faithfulness that others may overlook. For those in seasons of energy and clarity, let your light shine steadily, guiding others and honoring the One who provides the oil.

As this Shabbat begins, reflect on what fuels your spiritual life. Consider one practice you can renew, whether gratitude, study, generosity, or prayer. Let your devotion be steady and sincere. Trust that the God who commanded the lamp to burn continually desires your heart to remain attentive and illuminated by His presence.

PRAYER
Lord, help me keep the light of faith burning in my life. Teach me to serve You with consistency, compassion, and devotion. May my heart remain attentive to Your presence each day. Amen.

By Stephen Faircloth

Roadways are among the most important features of biblical geography. They shaped where people lived, how cities developed, and who controlled trade and communication. To control a road was to control movement, influence, and power. Many biblical events unfolded not by accident, but because of where those roads led. When we overlook the geography, we often miss part of the story.

Jerusalem in the Old Testament period did not sit directly on a major international highway. The primary north-south route through the central hill country ran west of the city. Steep valleys and rugged terrain made direct access from east and west difficult. For that reason, the region of Benjamin just north of Jerusalem became crucial. It functioned as a crossroads where major routes converged. Anyone traveling east or west from Jerusalem first moved north to connect with those roads. Geography shaped opportunity.

By the New Testament period, however, Jerusalem’s prominence required better access to the Jordan Valley. A road developed between Jerusalem and Jericho, roughly twenty-three miles apart. The journey was dramatic. From about 2700 feet above sea level in Jerusalem, the road descended to nearly 850 feet below sea level at Jericho. Travelers moved from cool hill country to arid wilderness in a single day. The path wound through a canyon system east of Jerusalem, the largest branch known as Wadi Qilt.

Wadi Qilt carved a rugged corridor through the Judean wilderness. Its steep cliffs and narrow passes offered both shelter and danger. At its eastern mouth near Jericho stood Herod the Great’s winter palace. Josephus records that Herod died there in 4 B.C. His palace complex straddled the wadi, and he diverted its water to fill pools and baths, a display of luxury in the midst of desert barrenness.

This was not an obscure path. Jesus Himself likely traveled this route. Galilean pilgrims often journeyed south along the Jordan River, crossed near Jericho, and then ascended to Jerusalem through the canyon. When Luke records Jesus telling the story of a man “going down from Jerusalem to Jericho,” He places the parable within this very terrain. The winding road, isolated stretches, and rocky hiding places made it believable that robbers could strike. The Good Samaritan story is rooted in real geography.

The road through Wadi Qilt reminds us that God’s purposes often unfold along difficult paths. Pilgrims walked this descent and ascent to worship at the Temple. They passed royal palaces, harsh wilderness, and dangerous turns. Yet the road led to encounter with God.

Our own lives follow similar terrain. We travel through high places and low valleys, through stretches that feel exposed and uncertain. At times the descent is steep and the wilderness dry. But the road still leads somewhere. The God who met pilgrims on that ancient path meets us on ours.

Biblical geography teaches us that location matters. So does direction. The question for us is not whether the road is easy, but whether it leads toward faithfulness. Even through wilderness canyons, God guides His people upward toward His presence.

Stephen Faircloth is the President of CBN Israel, an initiative dedicated to sharing the true story of the Jewish nation and inspiring a global community of Christians to stand with Israel and support her people in need. Our vision is to reshape the global conversation about Israel by fostering understanding, hope, and healing between Jews and Christians around the world. For more than 50 years, the Christian Broadcasting Network has supported Israel. By joining CBN Israel, you become part of this enduring legacy, transforming lives today and strengthening Christian support for Israel for generations to come.

“O LORD, how long shall I cry, and You will not hear? Even cry out to You, “Violence!”

And You will not save?” (Habakkuk 1:2)

There are moments when the world feels unrecognizable. Violence fills the headlines. Injustice seems to prosper. The innocent suffer while the corrupt appear to flourish. In those moments, many people ask a question that echoes through the centuries: If God is powerful and loving, why does He allow this?

We often feel pressure to respond with neat theological answers. We speak of living in a fallen world or of God’s mysterious purposes. While those truths matter, they can sometimes sound distant from the ache people are actually feeling. What we rarely do is admit that we, too, have asked the same question. We hesitate to say aloud, “God, what are You doing?” as if such honesty might reveal weak faith.

Yet the prophets show us another way.

Habakkuk looked at the moral decay of Judah and cried out to God in anguish. He saw injustice, strife, and violence, and he did not soften his words. He brought his confusion directly to the Lord. Even more troubling, when God answered, He revealed that He would use the Babylonians to judge Judah. The Babylonians were ruthless and cruel. How could God use a nation even more wicked to correct His own people?

Habakkuk did not pretend to understand. He did not silence his questions. But neither did he walk away. Instead, he chose to stand and wait. “I will stand my watch and set myself on the rampart, and watch to see what He will say to me, and what I will answer when I am corrected” (Habakkuk 2:1). That posture reveals the heart of true faith. He wrestled with God, yet he remained before God.

Robust faith is not fragile. It can handle hard questions. It can endure tension between what we believe about God and what we see with our eyes. Faith does not require pretending that evil is less evil or that suffering is less painful. It invites us to bring our confusion into the presence of the One who rules over history.

Habakkuk never received a full explanation of God’s ways. Instead, he received a deeper call to trust. By the end of his prophecy, he declared that even if the fields produced no food and the flocks disappeared, he would still rejoice in the Lord. His circumstances had not changed, but his confidence in God had matured.

We live in a time when it is easy to grow cynical or numb. Yet God welcomes our honest questions. He does not turn away from the one who cries out in confusion. He invites us to stand watch, to wait, and to trust that He is at work even when we cannot trace His hand.

When you find yourself asking, “God, what are You doing?” do not silence the question. Bring it to Him. Stand on the rampart of prayer. Wait for His voice. Faith that wrestles and waits is faith that endures.

PRAYER

Lord, we confess that we do not always understand what You are doing in our world or in our lives. Teach us to bring our questions honestly before You without abandoning our trust. Help us to stand watch, to wait for Your voice, and to rest in the truth that You are sovereign and good. Strengthen our faith to endure even when answers are slow in coming. Amen.

This week’s Torah reading is Parashat Terumah (Exodus 25:1-27:19). Read on Shabbat, February 21, 2026 / 2 Adar 5786. The following is a special devotional drawn from this week’s reading.

“Let them make Me a sanctuary, that I may dwell among them” (Exodus 25:8).

Parashat Terumah marks a profound shift in the wilderness journey. After liberation and covenant, God invites Israel to build a dwelling place for His presence. The sanctuary is not constructed from obligation but from willing hearts. Gold, silver, fabric, and skill are offered freely. God does not demand what is forced. He desires gifts shaped by generosity and devotion.

The instructions for the Tabernacle are detailed and precise. Measurements, materials, and design reflect care and intentionality. The Ark, the Table, the Menorah, and the altar each serve a purpose within the sacred space. Through these instructions, God teaches that worship involves both heart and craftsmanship. Holiness is expressed not only in prayer but also in the thoughtful use of time, talent, and resources.

Terumah reminds us that God chooses to dwell among His people. The Holy One of Israel does not remain distant. Instead, He invites participation in creating a place where His presence is recognized and honored. The sanctuary becomes a visible sign that God walks with His people even in the wilderness. His presence is not confined to a mountain but accompanies them in their journey.

This portion invites reflection on what we are building with our own lives. Each person contributes something to the dwelling place of God. Our words, actions, generosity, and creativity become part of a larger work that reflects His glory. When we offer willingly, we participate in shaping sacred space wherever we are.

Some may feel they have little to offer. Terumah reminds us that God values every sincere gift. Others may recognize abundance in their hands. This portion calls for thoughtful generosity that honors God and strengthens community. The sanctuary was built through shared devotion, and so too our communities grow when each person contributes faithfully.

As this Shabbat arrives, consider what offering you can bring. It may be time, encouragement, service, or prayer. Offer it with joy. Let your life become a dwelling place for God’s presence through acts of faithfulness and care. Trust that when you give willingly, God draws near and makes His presence known among His people.

PRAYER
Lord, thank You for choosing to dwell among Your people. Teach me to offer my gifts with a willing heart and to build spaces that honor Your presence. May my life reflect generosity, devotion, and trust in You. Amen.

By Stephen Faircloth

Four miles north of Nazareth, in the Beth Netofa Valley of Lower Galilee, stood the bustling city of Sepphoris. In the early first century A.D., when Jesus was a boy growing up in Nazareth, Sepphoris served as the capital of Galilee. A major east west road ran through the valley, linking the Sea of Galilee to the Mediterranean coast at Akko. Traders, officials, soldiers, and craftsmen passed through its gates. It was a place of culture, commerce, and influence.

Sepphoris rose on a hill divided into an upper and lower city. Archaeological discoveries reveal that people lived there as far back as the Late Bronze and Iron Ages. From the Persian period onward, settlement appears to have been continuous for centuries. During the Roman era, parts of the upper city were distinctly Jewish. Ritual immersion baths have been uncovered, along with oil lamps decorated with menorahs. These finds point to a community that maintained its identity and faith while living within a broader Greco-Roman world.

The city also contained features common to Roman urban life. A theater carved into the northern slope of the hill overlooked the valley below and could seat thousands. In the lower city, archaeologists uncovered a cardo and decumanus, the main north south and east west streets typical of Roman planning. Colonnaded sidewalks lined these streets, and public buildings and markets bustled with activity. Sepphoris was not an isolated village but a thriving urban center shaped by imperial culture.

One of the most striking discoveries is a third century Roman villa adorned with elaborate mosaics. In its dining room, scenes from Greek mythology portray Dionysius and other figures associated with revelry and celebration. Nearby mosaics depict hunting scenes and images drawn from the natural world. These works reveal the aesthetic tastes and cultural influences that shaped the city in later centuries.

Yet Sepphoris was also a center of Jewish learning. In the late second century A.D., Judah the Prince compiled the Mishnah there, preserving and organizing rabbinic oral traditions in Hebrew. A synagogue discovered in the lower city, dating to the fifth century, contained a mosaic floor that combined biblical imagery with symbolic motifs common in the ancient world. Even within a cosmopolitan setting, devotion to Scripture endured.

Sepphoris reminds us that Jesus grew up near a crossroads of cultures. Nazareth may have been small, but it lay within walking distance of a vibrant city filled with wealth, artistry, politics, and competing worldviews. The world Jesus entered was not simple or sheltered. It was layered and complex, shaped by both faith and foreign influence.

This setting deepens our understanding of His ministry. He spoke of kingdoms, coins, vineyards, and banquets to people who lived amid both Jewish tradition and Roman power. He called His followers to faithfulness not in isolation but in the midst of cultural pressures and public life.

Sepphoris stands as a reminder that God often forms His servants in ordinary places near busy crossroads. We, too, live surrounded by competing values and loud influences. The challenge is the same as it was then. Will we remain rooted in faith while engaging the world around us? God’s purposes unfold not far from the noise of society, but often right beside it.

Stephen Faircloth is the President of CBN Israel, an initiative dedicated to sharing the true story of the Jewish nation and inspiring a global community of Christians to stand with Israel and support her people in need. Our vision is to reshape the global conversation about Israel by fostering understanding, hope, and healing between Jews and Christians around the world. For more than 50 years, the Christian Broadcasting Network has supported Israel. By joining CBN Israel, you become part of this enduring legacy, transforming lives today and strengthening Christian support for Israel for generations to come.

“Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God” (Psalm 20:7).

In the ancient world, few symbols carried more weight than horses and chariots. They represented speed, strength, and military dominance. An army with powerful chariots could sweep across battlefields and overwhelm its enemies. Nations measured security by the size of their cavalry and the skill of their warriors.

Israel lived in a land that everyone wanted. Positioned between Africa and Asia along major trade routes, it was the crossroads of empires. Egypt pressed from the south. Mesopotamian powers loomed from the north. The temptation to build a formidable military force and trust in visible strength must have been overwhelming.

Yet Scripture repeatedly warned Israel not to place its confidence there. God instructed that a future king must not multiply horses for himself. The prophet Isaiah rebuked those who looked to Egypt and its cavalry for help rather than seeking the Lord. The message was clear. Israel’s security did not ultimately depend on superior weapons or alliances. It depended on obedience.

Trusting in horses and chariots meant believing that human power could secure what only God could sustain. It was a subtle shift from dependence on the Lord to confidence in strategy, innovation, and visible strength. The people might still speak about God, but their hearts would lean on what they could count, measure, and display.

The psalmist offers a striking contrast. While others place their hope in military might, we trust in the name of the Lord our God. To trust in His name means to rely on His character, His faithfulness, and His covenant promises. It is a declaration that our future rests in who He is, not in what we can build.

Our world may not rely on literal chariots, but we have our own versions. We trust in technology, influence, education, networks, and resources. None of these are evil in themselves. The danger lies in allowing them to become our source of confidence. We can easily begin to believe that our security and impact depend on our ingenuity rather than on our obedience.

God never told Israel to neglect wisdom or preparation. He called them to remember who truly preserved them at the crossroads. Victory, stability, and endurance were gifts that flowed from faithfulness. When they obeyed, He defended them. When they turned away, no number of horses could save them.

The same question faces us. What gives us peace when uncertainty rises? What do we instinctively lean on when pressure builds? If those answers are rooted primarily in our own strength, we may be trusting in modern chariots.

The greatest witness we can offer in a world obsessed with power is quiet, steady trust in God. When we remain faithful to Him, even when other options seem more impressive, we proclaim that our hope is anchored in something greater than human ability.

PRAYER

Father, guard my heart from misplaced confidence. Teach me to trust in Your name above all else. Help me to remain obedient and faithful, knowing that You alone are my true security. Amen.

This week’s Torah reading is Parashat Mishpatim (Exodus 21:1-24:18). Read on Shabbat, February 14, 2026 / 25 Shevat 5786. The following is a special devotional drawn from this week’s reading.

“You shall not oppress a stranger or afflict him, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt. You shall not mistreat any widow or fatherless child” (Exodus 22:21-22).

Parashat Mishpatim follows the revelation at Sinai with practical instruction for daily life. After thunder and fire on the mountain, the Torah turns to ordinary situations such as property, labor, responsibility, and justice. God shows that holiness is not confined to sacred moments. It is expressed in how people treat one another, especially the vulnerable.

The command not to oppress the stranger is rooted in memory. Israel is told to remember its own experience of suffering. Compassion grows when memory remains alive. God calls His people to shape a society marked by fairness and mercy, where power is restrained and dignity is protected. Justice in the Torah is not abstract. It is woven into everyday interactions, reminding Israel that covenant faithfulness must touch every corner of life.

Mishpatim also reveals that obedience is relational. The people respond together, saying they will do and they will listen. Their agreement is not merely about rules but about trust in the One who redeemed them. God invites them into a covenant that binds worship and ethics together. To know God is to reflect His character through integrity and compassion.

This portion challenges us to examine how faith is expressed in daily conduct. It is easy to separate spiritual devotion from practical behavior, yet the Torah does not allow such division. Honoring God includes honesty in work, kindness toward the overlooked, and responsibility in our commitments. Small actions carry spiritual weight.

Some may be wrestling with situations that test patience or fairness. Mishpatim encourages steady integrity even when it costs something. Others may have opportunities to show generosity or advocate for someone overlooked. In such moments, God’s heart for justice becomes visible through human choices.

As this Shabbat arrives, take time to reflect on how your faith shapes your relationships and responsibilities. Remember the compassion God has shown you. Choose one concrete way this week to act with fairness, kindness, or accountability. Let your obedience demonstrate gratitude for the freedom and mercy God has given.

PRAYER
Lord, thank You for guiding me not only in worship but in daily life. Teach me to act with justice, compassion, and integrity. May my actions reflect Your mercy and Your truth in every relationship. Amen.

By Stephen Faircloth

Mount Nebo rises in the land of Moab, east of the Jordan River, within what the Bible calls Transjordan. From this mountain, Moses was given a final, breathtaking view of the land God had promised to Israel. He saw the Jordan Valley, Jericho, the Dead Sea, and the hills stretching toward Jerusalem. It was a moment filled with beauty, fulfillment, and also deep poignancy, because Moses would not enter the land himself.

The reason is sobering. Years earlier, in the Wilderness of Zin, Moses acted in disobedience to God and struck the rock instead of speaking to it as the Lord commanded. Because of this, God told him he would lead the people to the edge of the land, but he would not cross over with them. On Mount Nebo, Moses saw the promise clearly, but he experienced it only with his eyes, not with his feet.

Scripture tells us that God Himself buried Moses there, and no one knows the location of his grave. This detail speaks quietly of God’s care and closeness to His servant. Moses did not die abandoned or forgotten. He died in the presence of the God he had served, the God who allowed him to see the fulfillment of a promise even if he could not fully share in it.

Mount Nebo stood on the borderlands, sometimes claimed by Israel and at other times by Moab. It belonged to a region often contested, just like many moments in our own spiritual journeys where obedience and failure, hope and disappointment, stand close together. Near the mountain lay a town also called Nebo, whose preserved name helped later generations identify the site. By the Byzantine period, pilgrims traveled there regularly, drawn by the memory of Moses and the power of his final moments.

The mountain itself is framed by deep valleys to the north and south and opens westward toward the Jordan Valley. Its peaks rise more than two thousand feet above sea level, offering wide and commanding views. Two main summits, Siyagha and Mukhayyat, show evidence of human presence stretching back thousands of years. From both, the land unfolds like a living map of biblical history.

Later generations built churches and monasteries on these heights. Mosaics and stone walls remain as testimonies that Mount Nebo became a place of reflection and worship. Pilgrims came not only to see the land Moses saw, but to remember that faithfulness is not always measured by personal arrival. Sometimes it is measured by trust, endurance, and obedience to the very end.

Mount Nebo invites us to ask hard questions. Can we trust God even when we do not experience every promise personally? Are we willing to remain faithful when our role is to prepare the way for others? Moses never entered the land, yet his obedience shaped the destiny of a nation.

Standing on Mount Nebo reminds us that God’s purposes are larger than any one life. Even when we only glimpse the promise from afar, God honors faith that endures, and He remains faithful to complete what He has spoken.

Stephen Faircloth is the President of CBN Israel, an initiative dedicated to sharing the true story of the Jewish nation and inspiring a global community of Christians to stand with Israel and support her people in need. Our vision is to reshape the global conversation about Israel by fostering understanding, hope, and healing between Jews and Christians around the world. For more than 50 years, the Christian Broadcasting Network has supported Israel. By joining CBN Israel, you become part of this enduring legacy, transforming lives today and strengthening Christian support for Israel for generations to come.