As this journey into the message of the Kingdom comes into focus, we begin to see that Yeshua (Jesus) did not simply come to declare a truth — He came to establish a way of life. The Kingdom was not only something He preached; it was something He embodied and then invited us to live. When He said, “Seek first the kingdom of God…” He was not offering a suggestion — He was defining the order of life in the Kingdom. This is where purpose moves from revelation into reality. It is no longer something we understand intellectually; it becomes something we pursue intentionally.

As the message of the Kingdom unfolds, we begin to see that the mission of Yeshua (Jesus) was never meant to end with Him — it was designed to multiply through those who follow Him. He did not come merely to fulfill a purpose in isolation, but to release that same purpose into a people who would carry it forward. His life was not only a demonstration — it was a pattern. And in one defining moment after His resurrection, He made this unmistakably clear: “As the Father has sent Me, I also send you.” In that statement, the mission of heaven was transferred. What began in Him was now entrusted to them.

As we continue to unfold the message of the Kingdom, we begin to see that Yeshua (Jesus) did not come with a narrow mission, but with an eternal agenda. His purpose was not limited to rescuing individuals from sin — though that is essential and glorious — it was to establish the rule and reign of God. From the very beginning of His ministry, He proclaimed not just forgiveness, but the coming of a Kingdom. This shifts everything, because it reveals that salvation, while central, is not the end of the story — it is the beginning of a greater reality.

As we continue this journey into the message of the Kingdom, a clear pattern emerges in Yeshua’s (Jesus’) ministry. Nothing He did was random or out of order — there was a divine sequence that reveals not only what He did, but how He did it. To understand the Kingdom in its fullness, we must recognize that this pattern is not merely descriptive—it is instructive.

As I begin this new series of devotionals, I want you to understand from the very beginning that this is not merely a collection of teachings, but a progressive unveiling. Each day and each concept is intentionally building toward a complete picture. By the time we reach the end of this journey, what may seem like individual truths will come together into one unified revelation — the fullness of the message of the Kingdom. This is the very message that Yeshua (Jesus) Himself declared as His purpose. As it is written, “I must preach the kingdom of God … because for this purpose I have been sent.” This is where we begin — not with our purpose, but with His.

There is a thread that runs from the first Passover in Exodus all the way to the throne room of heaven — and at the center of that thread is the Lamb. What began in Egypt as deliverance from bondage was never meant to end there. Passover was not just about leaving Egypt; it was about stepping into something eternal. It was a shadow pointing to a greater reality, a greater redemption, and a greater understanding of the Lamb of God.

There is a striking symbol placed on every Passover Seder plate—the z’roah, the shankbone. It sits quietly, often explained simply as a remembrance of the Passover sacrifice, yet within it lies a far deeper revelation. The word z’roah (זְרוֹעַ) means “arm”, and it is the very word God uses in Exodus when He declares, “I will redeem you with an outstretched arm.” This was not just a promise of deliverance — it was a revelation of how God Himself would act in power, strength, and salvation.

There is a powerful moment within the Passover Seder that carries a depth of meaning many overlook — the mystery of the Afikomen. At the beginning of the meal, the father (abba) brings forth the matzah tosh, a special bag containing three pieces of unleavened bread. While traditions offer different explanations for these three pieces, one detail stands out with striking clarity: only the middle matzah is taken, broken, and set apart. It is not the first and not the third — it is the middle. This is not accidental; it is a picture.

There is a moment in Scripture where everything converges — Passover, prophecy, worship, and fulfillment—all meeting in real time. As Yeshua (Jesus) enters Jerusalem, the crowds cry out, “Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!” They were not speaking randomly — they were singing the Hallel, specifically from Psalm 118, the Passover song of deliverance sung for generations. Yet in that moment, something extraordinary was happening: the song was no longer just being sung — it was standing right in front of them.

A powerful transition takes place after Passover. The blood has been applied, the lamb has been received, and deliverance has begun — but God does not stop there. He immediately leads His people into the Feast of Unleavened Bread, a seven-day journey that speaks not of a single moment, but of a lifestyle.

There is a divine order in Passover that cannot be ignored. After the lamb is chosen and the blood is applied, God immediately commands something that reaches deeper than deliverance — the removal of leaven. For seven days, no leaven was to be found in their homes. This was not partial or symbolic; it was thorough. In Scripture, leaven represents sin, mixture, and hidden corruption — the things that quietly spread and influence the whole. It is what is often unseen yet active, tolerated yet transformative. And God’s command was clear: it must be removed completely. This same call carries into the New Covenant: “Cleanse out the old leaven…” (1 Corinthians 5:7). Deliverance is not the end of the process — it is the beginning. What God brings you out of, He also calls you to be cleansed from.

There is a profound mystery hidden in the first Passover that becomes clear through a Hebraic lens. In Exodus 12, God commands Israel to place the blood of the lamb on the two doorposts and the lintel of their homes. This was not just obedience — it was a divine picture. When the blood was applied, it formed the shape of the Hebrew letter Chet (ח), a letter that represents a gate or doorway. As the 8th letter, it carries the meaning of new beginnings — what comes after completion: new life, new creation, a new covenant. In that moment, God was declaring something deeper than protection — He was revealing a doorway into a new beginning. The house marked by blood became more than a shelter; it became a gate into life.