1 Corinthians 5:7-8 Therefore purge out the old leaven, that you may be a new lump, since you truly are unleavened. For indeed Christ, our Passover, was sacrificed for us. Therefore let us keep the feast, not with old leaven, nor with the leaven of malice and wickedness, but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth.
Thousands around the world celebrated Pesach (Passover) this weekend, marking the moment when the Angel of Death passed over the homes of the Israelite slaves in Egypt—sparing their firstborn because of the lamb’s blood on their doorposts. For many believers in Yeshua (Jesus), this day also commemorates the crucifixion of the Messiah, who offered Himself as the perfect Lamb of God. Through His sacrifice, He took away the sins of the world, reconciling humanity to God and restoring a close relationship with their Creator.
The word for sacrifice in Hebrew is “korban. ” Its root comes from the word “karov,” which means closeness or relative. So, the word itself is an expression of what it produces: closeness between man and God. Since the fall of mankind, sacrifice has been a way in which God expresses love for man, and man expresses love for God, bringing the two closer in relationship.
Passover is more than a feast of remembrance — it’s a divine invitation. Through His sacrifice, Yeshua became our korban, the way back to intimacy with the Father. The Lamb of God laid down His life so that nothing would stand between us and the Father. Now, it’s our turn to draw near. Let this season stir your heart to offer spiritual sacrifices—prayer, worship, obedience, and love. Make space to be with Him. He has already made the way; all that remains is for us to come close. So come boldly, gratefully, and often—for He delights in those who seek His presence.
Copyright 1999-2026 Worthy Devotions. This devotional was originally published on Worthy Devotions and was reproduced with permission.
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There is something deeply intentional in God’s instruction concerning the lamb. He does not tell Israel to take a lamb at the last moment — He commands them to choose it on the 10th day of Nisan, set it apart, and live with it until the 14th day. This was not random timing; it was divine design.
There is something deeply powerful in the way God introduces Passover (Pesach) in Exodus. He does not begin with a list of instructions. He begins with divine intervention. Israel is enslaved, bound under Pharaoh, and crushed beneath a system they have no power to escape. Yet right in the middle of that helplessness, God speaks: “This month shall be for you the beginning of months.”
Yeshua (Jesus) does not conclude this parable with separation alone — He brings it to its true climax in glory. After the harvest, after the revealing, after everything has been set in its proper place, He lifts our eyes beyond the process and into the purpose with a powerful promise: the righteous will shine. This is the heart of the harvest — not merely the removal of what does not belong, but the unveiling of what truly does.
Yeshua (Jesus) brings this parable to a decisive and unavoidable climax: a moment is coming when everything in the field will be uncovered for what it truly is. The harvest is not merely the end of a process — it is the unveiling. What has been growing quietly over time will suddenly stand in full clarity, with no room left for confusion, assumption, or misjudgment. In that moment, the distinction will be undeniable.
There is something deeply instructive in the restraint of the Lord. When the servants recognize the problem in the field, their instinct is immediate action. They want to fix it, remove it, clean it up. But the Lord responds in a way that challenges human urgency. He tells them to wait.
There is a deeper layer in this parable that moves beyond simply identifying the difference between wheat and tares. Yeshua (Jesus) is not only revealing that the tare looks like wheat — He is warning that what it produces has the power to affect those who partake of it. The issue is not just imitation; it is ingestion. It is not only what is growing in the field, but what is being received into the heart.
With so much disinformation and so many voices speaking into our lives, people often ask for my thoughts on who to trust and what to believe. In light of that, I believe it’s time to step into a deeper kind of discernment — becoming what I would call a fruit inspector. This series is born out of that burden: to learn how to recognize the difference between the wheat and the tares.