Shabbat Shalom

Candace Long: Good morning and welcome to Shabbat Shalom. I'm Candace Long, your host and producer. Today's Torah portion is called Shemot, which covers Exodus 1 to chapter 6, verse 1. In just a few minutes, Pastor Matt McKeown will teach us the key themes that we find in today's Parashat.

First, though, I want to credit the resource that I use to prepare for Shabbat Shalom each week. I quote from it often. I use the Schottenstein edition of the Interlinear Chumash, which is a five-volume set of the Torah, one volume for each of the five books. It's published by Artscroll, and each volume includes an interlinear translation from Hebrew to English and commentary from the most trusted rabbinic sources.

I am happy to report that since we developed our own shabbatshalomradio.com page, which connects you to our live program on WEZE 590 and contains all of our handouts, Torah schedule, and program archives at the bottom of the page, we are now able to see how we're doing. I'm thrilled that from November through December, our audience has grown by 545 percent.

So if you're a new listener, welcome. We are all at different levels of learning God's ways. Shabbat Shalom as a program is unique. Number one, it provides teaching of the Torah from a Jewish perspective. Our teachers are either Messianic Jews or Torah-observant Gentiles like me, whom God prompted years ago to become more aligned with our Jewish forefathers.

And number two, because my specialized area of study includes the biblical prophecies of the very end of days, and quite frankly, because I am the producer of this program, the Achariet HaYamim, which is Hebrew for the latter days, is the lens through which Shabbat Shalom unfolds. Each week, I try to put in perspective where we are in our journey to the kingdom.

What is the Lord pointing out as signs that we're on the right path? What do we need to watch out for that could throw us off course? Who are the key people in our story to pay attention to or to stay away from? I work hard to provide you with context and backstory to make the Torah come alive.

As Genesis came to a close last week, the Chumash left us with detailed genealogies that I need to mention. Genesis helped us uncover who we are to align with in grafting to the Jewish vine. Chapter 1, verse 5 defines them as the 70 souls that issued from the loins of Jacob. That's it.

Now, though the Chumash also shows us the genealogy of Abraham, which includes the lineage of Ishmael and the genealogy of Esau so we can recognize global leaders who are rising to prominence now, it is the genealogy of the 70 descendants of Jacob that we are to follow. And in today's portion, we follow them into exile to fulfill God's prophecy to Abraham in Genesis 15, saying an oppressive exile would last 400 years.

From my lens, learning about the exile into Egypt is not at all just an academic pursuit. Rather, it is a life and death picture that teaches what we must go through to experience our own Exodus when Jesus comes at the redemption, which you may think of as the rapture.

Let me plant this seed for you here. In the natural, the word Exodus means a mass departure of people from one location to another by the supernatural hand of God. Now, isn't that what the rapture is? So let's learn from Exodus who among Jacob's descendants were redeemed.

Let's recite the Shema together. Sh'ma Yisra'el Adonai Eloheinu Adonai Echad. Hear, O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is one. Baruch shem k'vod malchuto l'olam va'ed. Blessed is the name of His glorious kingdom for all eternity.

And the last section. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words which I set up for you this day shall be upon your heart, and you shall teach them diligently to your children. You shall speak of them when you sit in your house, when you walk on the way, when you lie down, and when you rise. And you shall bind them as a sign upon your arm and as frontlets between your eyes. And you shall write them on the doorposts of your house and in your gates.

Matt McKeown: Good morning, dear friends, and welcome once again to Shabbat Shalom, where we explore the Torah as living scripture and uncover the Jewish roots of our Christian faith. I'm Pastor Matt McKeown, and today we begin with a brand-new book of the Torah, the Book of Exodus, or in Hebrew, it's called Shemot, meaning names.

Genesis ended with a coffin in Egypt. Exodus begins with a list of names. That detail matters, because in God's economy, people are never statistics. They are names. They are stories. They are promises in motion. Exodus opens by reminding us that the children of Israel did not enter Egypt as slaves. They entered as family. They came as honored guests, sustained by Joseph's wisdom and Pharaoh's favor.

But scripture wastes no time in telling us that circumstances have changed. A new king arises over Egypt, one who does not know Joseph. This is more than historical amnesia. It is spiritual disconnection. When people forget what God has done, oppression follows quickly. Gratitude gives way to fear, memory gives way to control. The Israelites, once welcomed, are now becoming a threat in the eyes of Egypt.

Scripture says that they were fruitful, multiplied greatly, and filled the land. The very blessing God promised to Abraham, fruitfulness, becomes the reason for Israel's suffering. This introduces one of the great paradoxes of scripture. God's blessings often attract resistance.

Egypt doesn't want to enslave Israel because Israel is weak. Egypt enslaves Israel because Israel is strong. Fear always targets growth. Pharaoh looks at Israel's population and sees danger, not because Israel has attacked, but because Pharaoh imagines what might happen if Israel joins Egypt's enemies. Fear thrives on imagination, not reality.

Pharaoh's response is strategic. He doesn't begin with violence, he begins with policy. He appoints taskmasters, he increases workloads. He seeks to exhaust them into submission. The oppression often begins quietly. Heavy labor is imposed. Brick making replaces freedom. Work becomes endless. Scripture tells us that the Egyptians made the Israelites' lives bitter with hard service.

This isn't just physical slavery. It's psychological control. Pharaoh wants Israel too tired to hope, too exhausted to dream, too broken to remember who they are. In fact, in modern Hebrew, when the scripture says that the Israelites were crushed in spirit, it's the same word that's used for asthma. It's a shortness of breath. And remember, breath in Hebrew is also the word for spirit, Ruach.

But then, out of the blue, seemingly, something extraordinary happens. The more Egypt oppresses them, the more Israel multiplies. It's divine irony at its finest. What Pharaoh intends for destruction becomes the means of expansion. God doesn't remove the oppression immediately, but he renders it ineffective. Oppression cannot cancel promise. We need to remember that today.

Let's look at a Jewish insight. Slavery begins with forgetting identity. Jewish tradition teaches that Israel's descent into slavery wasn't sudden. It unfolded gradually. At first, the Israelites voluntarily participated in Egyptian labor. Then expectations increased. Eventually, freedom disappeared.

Why? Because forgetting identity leads to bondage. Let me say that again. Forgetting identity leads to bondage. Israel entered Egypt as Hebrews, distinct, covenantal, and aware of who they were. Over time, assimilation blurred identity. When identity fades, vulnerability increases. This is why the book is called Shemot, names. God begins redemption by reminding Israel of who they are.

When forced labor fails to curb Israel's growth, Pharaoh escalates. He turns to genocide. He commands the Hebrew midwives, Shiphrah and Puah, to kill the Hebrew baby boys at birth. This moment deserves careful attention. Pharaoh assumes that power flows downward. He believes orders guarantee obedience. But he underestimates something crucial. He underestimates the fear of God.

The midwives fear God more than Pharaoh, and so they disobey. And scripture honors them. God rewards them with families of their own. This is not a small detail. In scripture, women who fear God become agents of salvation long before deliverers appear. Redemption begins quietly, often through unseen faithfulness.

Before Moses ever confronts Pharaoh, women are already resisting him. That's how God works. It's a battle of authority. Pharaoh then issues another decree. Every Hebrew boy must be thrown into the Nile. The Nile was one of Egypt's gods. Pharaoh turns worship into weaponry. He attempts to drown God's promise in his own source of power.

But God will soon turn the Nile itself into an instrument of deliverance. What Pharaoh uses for death, God uses for life. This pattern will repeat throughout the Book of Exodus. For Christians, this moment resonates deeply. Pharaoh's attack on Hebrew infants mirrors later attacks in scripture, including Herod's slaughter of the infants of Bethlehem.

Why? Because the enemy always targets the future deliverer. When God is about to act, resistance intensifies. Oppression often increases right before redemption begins. If you feel pressure rising in your life, scripture reminds you, it may not be because God has abandoned you. It may be because God is about to move.

Parashat Shemot speaks directly to seasons of life when life feels heavier instead of easier. Israel did nothing wrong to deserve slavery. They were faithful. They were fruitful. They were growing. And still, suffering came. This teaches us a vital truth. Obedience does not eliminate difficulty. It gives difficulty meaning. God hadn't forgotten Israel. God was positioning them for deliverance.

And before God sends a redeemer, he allows the need for redemption to become undeniable. Shemot begins with pressure, fear, and suffering, but underneath it all, God's promises are multiplying faster than oppression can stop them. Names are being counted. Lives are being preserved. Faith is being practiced quietly. And God is preparing a deliverer.

As Parashat Shemot continues, the Torah narrows its focus from an enslaved nation to a single household, from overwhelming oppression to quiet courage. This is often how God begins redemption. Before he confronts Pharaoh publicly, he works privately. Before he shakes empires, he moves within families.

Exodus chapter 2 opens with a man and a woman from the House of Levi. Scripture doesn't introduce them by name at first. That, too, is intentional. Redemption begins anonymously. Deliverance is often born in ordinary obedience. A child is born, and immediately danger surrounds him. The Torah tells us that the mother sees that the child is good.

Jewish commentators note that this phrase echoes the language in creation in the book of Genesis, and God saw that it was good. This child's existence itself is a declaration. God is still creating, still blessing, still bringing light into darkness. The parents hide this child for three months. This isn't cowardice, this is wisdom. Faith doesn't mean reckless exposure. Sometimes it means quiet protection.

But eventually, hiding becomes impossible. The danger grows, the decree looms, and so the mother makes a basket. The Hebrew word for this basket is a tevah. It's the same word used for Noah's Ark. This is not a coincidence. Just as God preserved life in the waters of judgment in Noah's day, he now preserves the future redeemer through the waters of oppression.

The Nile River, meant to be a grave, becomes a cradle. Pharaoh's weapon becomes God's instrument. The mother places the child in the Nile, not as an act of surrender, but as an act of trust. She places him where Pharaoh has claimed authority, but she entrusts him to the God who created the waters themselves. This is faith that releases what it loves into God's care.

Standing nearby is the child's sister. She watches, she waits. She is attentive. She is brave. And then something happens. Pharaoh's daughter comes to bathe in the river. This is layered with irony. Pharaoh decreed death by water. His own daughter will now defy that decree. She opens the basket. She hears the child cry, and the scripture says she has compassion.

Compassion disrupts empires. Pharaoh's daughter recognizes immediately that the child is Hebrew. She knows what her father has commanded, and yet she chooses mercy over obedience. Once again, God uses women to subvert tyranny. The midwives feared God. A mother trusted God. A sister acted wisely. And now, an Egyptian princess shows compassion.

Deliverance advances through faithfulness, courage, and mercy long before miracles occur. The sister approaches and offers a solution. She suggests finding a Hebrew nurse. Pharaoh's daughter agrees. And in one of the most beautiful reveals in scripture, the child's own mother is hired to nurse him.

God turns threat into provision. The mother who was once forced to hide her son now gets paid to raise him. This is divine irony. What Pharaoh intended for death, God transforms into life and sustenance. Pharaoh's daughter names the child Moses, Moshe, saying, "Because I drew him out of the water."

His name carries memory. Every time Moses hears his name, he is reminded that he was rescued, that his life was preserved by mercy, that he belongs to a story bigger than himself. Moses grows up in Pharaoh's household, educated in Egyptian wisdom, trained in leadership, and familiar with power. Yet he also knows his Hebrew identity.

Jewish tradition teaches that his mother likely instilled within him the knowledge of his people and their God during those early years. Moses lives between two worlds, Hebrew by birth, Egyptian by upbringing. This tension isn't accidental. God is shaping a deliverer who understands both the oppressor and the oppressed.

Rabbinic thought emphasizes that Moses is not prepared through miracles at first. He's prepared through proximity to power, exposure to injustice, and awareness of identity. God often prepares his servants quietly, allowing them to observe systems from the inside before calling them to confront those systems. Moses is not yet a prophet. He's a child being shaped.

For Christians, Moses' early life teaches us something crucial about God's timing. God hears Israel's cries in chapter 2, but deliverance doesn't come immediately. Moses will spend decades in preparation before he ever stands before Pharaoh. God isn't slow, he is thorough. Redemption requires a prepared people and a prepared leader.

And God will take the time necessary to shape both. Many believers struggle during seasons where God feels silent. Parashat Shemot reminds us that silence doesn't mean inactivity. God is just working behind the scenes, orchestrating events, positioning people, and preparing hearts. You may not see miracles yet, but God is building foundations.

The child in the basket will one day confront the throne. The tears of a mother will one day echo through liberation. And the faithfulness of ordinary people will one day reshape history. Before Moses ever speaks to Pharaoh, God uses courage, compassion, and quiet obedience to advance redemption. Deliverance doesn't always arrive with thunder. Sometimes it floats gently down a river.

As Parashat Shemot continues, the Torah shifts again, this time from the protection of childhood to the pressure of adulthood. Moses grows up, and with maturity comes awareness. Scripture tells us that Moses went out to his brothers and looked on their burdens. This is the first sign of Moses' calling beginning to surface.

He doesn't remain insulated within Pharaoh's palace. He steps outside privilege and observes suffering. Seeing is the first step toward deliverance. Moses witnesses an Egyptian beating a Hebrew slave. The injustice ignites something within him. Moses looks this way and that, and seeing no one, he strikes the Egyptian and kills him.

The act is impulsive, driven by righteous anger, but flawed execution. This moment is crucial. Moses' heart is right, he identifies with his people, but his method is wrong. He attempts to deliver Israel through force rather than obedience, through his own strength rather than God's timing.

Jewish tradition emphasizes that Moses' action reveals both his compassion and his immaturity. Deliverers are often eager before they're ready. God must teach Moses that redemption can't be rushed, even when injustice is obvious.

The next day, Moses encounters two Hebrews fighting. He intervenes, expecting gratitude or recognition. Instead, one of them challenges him. "Who made you a prince and judge over us?" The words cut deep. Moses realizes his act is known. Worse, his people don't see him as a savior. This is often where calling collides with reality.

Moses thought deliverance would be immediate. He thought justice would be welcomed. Instead, he finds rejection from both sides. Pharaoh now seeks to kill him, and his own people distrust him. Moses flees. Flight is not failure, but it feels like it. Moses then goes from palace to pasture. He arrives in Midian, far from Egypt's power and Israel's suffering.

The transition is stark. From royal halls to desert wells. From commanding authority to tending sheep. At a well, Moses again sees injustice. Shepherds harass the daughters of a Midianite priest. Moses intervenes, defending them and helping water their flock. The instinct to protect remains, but this time Moses acts without killing.

Growth is sometimes subtle. Moses marries Zipporah, one of the daughters, and begins a new life. He names his son Gershom, saying, "I have been a sojourner in a foreign land." The name captures Moses' inner state. He belongs nowhere. Egypt rejected him. Israel doesn't know him. Midian is a refuge, not home.

This is where God often does his deepest work. Hidden seasons often shape authority. Jewish tradition teaches us that Moses spent 40 years in Midian. These are not wasted years, but refining years. Tending sheep teaches patience. Desert life teaches dependence. Solitude teaches listening.

The man who once struck in anger now learns restraint. The man who once acted impulsively now learns obedience. God isn't punishing him, he's preparing him. And while Moses lives quietly in Midian, scripture seems to return to Israel's suffering. The people groan under slavery. They cry out.

And then comes one of the most important theological statements in the Torah. God heard their groaning and God remembered his covenant. God doesn't remember because he forgot. He remembers because the time has come. God sees. God hears. God knows.

These verbs matter deeply. They reveal that God isn't indifferent to suffering. He's attentive, even when deliverance feels delayed. The cries of Israel rise like a prayer, even if they don't know how to pray yet. Groaning becomes petition. Pain becomes language. And God responds, but not immediately with action. First, he prepares a servant.

Rabbinic commentary emphasizes that God's delay is not neglect. Redemption unfolds in stages. Israel must be ready. Moses must be ready. Circumstances must align. God works slowly to produce lasting freedom. This challenges modern expectations. We want instant results. God values transformation.

For Christians, Moses' story is deeply encouraging. Moses fails publicly. He runs. He hides. And yet, God does not discard him. God redeems failure. Moses' greatest strength, humility, is forged in Midian. His leadership is not built on confidence, but on dependence.

God often prepares leaders by stripping away self-reliance. Some of you listening today may feel like Moses in Midian. You've sensed God's calling once. You stepped out. But it didn't go as planned. Now you feel sidelined, forgotten, or delayed. Parashat Shemot reminds you, God hasn't abandoned you. Your hidden season isn't a detour, it's a preparation. The desert is not the end of the story. It's where God speaks.

Before God sends Moses back to Egypt, he reshapes him in Midian. Before God confronts Pharaoh, he teaches his servant humility. Deliverance doesn't come through force but through obedience. And God is about to speak. Finally, Parashat Shemot reaches its theological heart when God finally speaks.

Moses, now a shepherd in Midian, leads his flock to the far side of the wilderness to Horeb, the mountain of God. This detail matters. Moses isn't seeking revelation. He's doing his job. God meets him in the ordinary rhythms of obedience. And then Moses sees something that interrupts his routine.

A bush burns but isn't consumed. Fire without destruction. Light without loss. God's presence revealed, yet not devastating. Moses turns aside to look. And that turning is everything. God calls Moses by name. Moses, Moses. In scripture, when God repeats a name, it signals intimacy and urgency.

God knows Moses personally. He hasn't forgotten him in Midian. The years of obscurity have not erased his calling. God tells Moses to remove his sandals, for the place where he stands is holy ground. Jewish tradition teaches that holiness is not tied to location permanently. It's tied to God's presence.

The desert is holy because God is there. This is deeply comforting. Then God introduces himself. I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. This declaration anchors Moses' calling in covenant history. God isn't starting something new, he's continuing something ancient.

Redemption is rooted in promise. Moses hides his face. Fear and awe mix. God's holiness humbles. God tells Moses that he's seen the affliction of his people. He's heard their cry. And he says something astonishing. I have come down to deliver them. That alone would be enough, but then God adds, "So now go, I am sending you."

God often reveals his compassion before he reveals our calling. Moses responds not with confidence but reluctance. He asks, "Who am I that I should go?" This isn't false humility. This is honest fear. Moses knows his past. He knows his failure. He knows his limitations.

But God says, "I will be with you." God doesn't promise ease, he promises presence. And when Moses asks who is sending him, who should I say is sending me, God answers, "I am who I am." This name, Ehyeh-Asher-Ehyeh, could also be translated as "I will be who I will be."

For Israel, this name means that God will be with them, present in suffering. And for Moses, it means God's authority points them back to the mission. Shemot ends with tension, not triumph. Israel is still enslaved. Pharaoh is still defiant. Moses is uncertain. But God has spoken. Redemption is inevitable.

May the God who revealed himself in the fire reveal his presence in your life. May the God who heard Israel's cries hear your prayer today. May the God who sends deliverers strengthen you for obedience, and may you trust that holy ground is wherever God meets you. My friends, God is faithful, and redemption has begun. Be patient. Shabbat Shalom.

Candace Long: You can hear Pastor Matt teach the Torah every Saturday morning at 6 o'clock. Now, if 6 o'clock is too early for you, you can listen to his teachings through our archives, which you'll find at the bottom of our shabbatshalomradio.com page. To study along with us each week, download our weekly Torah schedule at the top of our page.

Now, if Genesis was the study of who to follow into the exile, then the Book of Exodus shows us who gets separated from redemption. As Jacob's descendants grew into millions, one of the most startling lessons that I began to see last year was how few were taken at the Exodus. Now, you will learn as we go further that only 20 percent of Jacob's descendants left at the Exodus.

This is known by our sages. Leaving 80 percent who were invited to go, but who eventually refused. The exile into Egypt is a picture of the sifting process that God chose to use. We do not want to be metaphorically left in Egypt when the cloud leaves.

Coming up next, Eileen Washer concludes the wonderful journey through the Hebrew Aleph-Bet, teaching us the building blocks of God's meaning of each letter in the Torah. I know you join me in expressing our gratitude to her for depositing 11 wonderful teachings into our archives. Today in part 11, she teaches about the letters Shin and Tav. Be sure and click on her handout that is right here on our main page and follow along as she teaches. Join me in welcoming Eileen Washer.

Eileen Washer: Shabbat Shalom. This is the final week of our study of the Hebrew Aleph-Bet. I hope I have sparked a light in you to continue to study and learn Hebrew. I hope the insights into the Aleph-Bet will aid throughout your understanding of the Bible. This week we will look at the final two letters of the Aleph-Bet, the Shin and the Tav.

Let's begin. Let's look at the letter Shin. This is also the letter Sin. If there is a dot over the farthest right stem, it is the letter Shin and has an SH sound. If there is a dot over the farthest left stem, it's the letter Sin and has an S sound. Now the Shin is the 21st letter in the Aleph-Bet and has a gematria of 300.

So let's look at some things in the Bible that we find that equal to the 300. There's 300 soldiers of Gideon. There were 300 foxes that burned down the fields of the Philistines. There are 300 years Israel worshipped idolatry in the days of the judges.

The letter Shin is made up of three Vavs. Remember the Vav, the upright man or the hook? Well, the three Vavs look like stems reaching up as we learned before. The Vav has a numerical value of 6, so it would be as if we had 6 plus 6 plus 6, which equals 18. And 18, as we learned previously, is the number of life in Judaism.

Each Vav in the Shin is seen as a pillar of the Tree of Life. The right pillar stands for kindness and mercy, while the left represents justice and truth. The middle pillar or column provides the balance in life from either extreme.

The three pillars also represent Judaism, which stands on, one, the study of Torah, two, prayer, and three, good deeds or mitzvah. The three pillars also stand for the three patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. And lastly, the three pillars stand for all of Israel, the Kohanim, the priests, the Levites, and all Israel.

The Shin also represents the name of God, Shaddai. If you look at an aerial view of Israel, there is a very, very visible Shin, the name of God, imprinted on the city of Jerusalem. In Deuteronomy 16:2, we find that the word says, the place the Lord will choose as a dwelling for His name. You are able to distinguish the Shin by looking at the different valleys in the city. The Valley of Hinnom, the Tyropoeon Valley, and the Kidron Valley.

El Shaddai, let's look at that. Shaddai has been translated as Almighty, but the root word Shad means breast. In this word, we see the feminine side of God. We see the godly attribute of the mother who continually binds the family together. We see a mother who feeds her children the milk of the Torah so that they will grow strong and healthy. Through this word, we see God through the feminine attribute and is the one that binds us all together.

The first three times that we see the word Shaddai, it has to do with fertility. In Genesis 28:3, it says, "May God Almighty, El Shaddai, bless you and make you fruitful and increase your numbers." In Genesis 35:11, it says, "I am God Almighty, El Shaddai. Be fruitful and increase in number." And then in Genesis 49:25, it says, "By the Almighty, El Shaddai, who will bless you with blessings of heaven above, blessings of the deep that lies beneath, and blessings of the breast, the Shadayim, and of the womb, Rechem."

Exodus 3:8 says, "And I will come down to snatch them, Israel, from the hand of the Egyptians to bring them up from the land to a good and wide land, to a land flowing with milk and honey." The Shin can also be seen as fire and water. The Shin can represent the fire or the flames that rise up to the heavens, the Shamayim.

Rashi explains that Shamayim or heavens are both fire and water, that is, that they mingle with each other. And we find that in the Chumash pertaining to Genesis 1:8. Solomon, in chapter 8, verse 6, says, "Set me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm. For love is as strong as death. Jealousy is as severe as Sheol. Its flames are flames of fire, the flame of the Lord."

Jeremiah 23:29 says, "Is not my word like fire?" says the Lord, "And like a hammer that breaks the rock in pieces?" Deuteronomy 2:24 says, "For the Lord our God is a consuming fire, a jealous God."

So now we're going to talk about Tefillin. Specifically, we're going to discuss the letter Shin on the black box worn on the forehead of Jews during their prayer time. The right side of the Tefillin has a three-stemmed Shin, which represents the patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, while on the left side of the Tefillin has a four-stemmed Shin, which represents the matriarchs, Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel, and Leah.

According to Talmud Berakhot 6a, it references Deuteronomy 28:10. "All the peoples of the earth shall see that God's name is proclaimed upon you, and they shall fear you." This, according to the Talmud, says it refers to the Tefillin worn on the head because the Shin is equated with the name of God.

Every Mezuzah that a person places on the doorposts of their house or in their gates has a Shin on it. God's name, Shaddai, is written on the back of the scroll that is encased in the Mezuzah. The three letters, Shin, Dalet, and Yod, form an acronym for the Hebrew words Shomer Delatot Yisrael, which mean Guardian of the Doorways of Israel. Since Shaddai begins with the letter Shin, Mezuzah cases are often decorated with the letter Shin.

The Talmud teaches that while most kings sit on the inside while their guards protect them from outside forces, God positions His protection, the Mezuzah, on the outside of our home, protecting His beloved people. The word Mezuzot is a combination of the words Zaz and Mavet, which literally means death, remove thyself.

A Mezuzah is seen by many as a protection from evil. The word of God, a scroll written within the Mezuzah, is a sign that those who want to do harm, that God is protecting their home. We also see the Mezuzah and we kiss it upon entering or even leaving our home. When we enter, we kiss the scroll to recognize God and taking His word into our home. And kissing it as we leave, we do it so that we have the intent of taking the word with us as we travel.

Let's look at the letter Tav now. Tav is the final letter. It's the 22nd letter in the Aleph-Bet and it has a gematria of 400. Let's remember that Machpelah in Hebron was also known as the Cave of Four Couples because Adam and Eve, Abraham and Sarah, Isaac, Rebecca, and Jacob and Leah are all buried there.

Ephron the Hittite sold Abraham the land to bury Sarah, and he sold it for 400 shekels of silver according to Genesis 23:16. It's very interesting to note that Ephron's name has a gematria, when we spell it out, that is equal to 400, equivalent to the 400 shekels of silver used by Abraham to purchase the Cave of Machpelah.

Esau had 400 men when he met Jacob in Genesis 33. God told Abraham that Israel will be enslaved for 400 years in Genesis 15, verse 13. Then David was fleeing King Saul and he hid in the cave near Adullam with 400 men. We find that in 1 Samuel 22:1-2.

Let's look at the shape of the letter Tav. The Tav is designed by the letters Dalet and the letter Nun. These two letters spell Dan, which means judge or to judge. The Dalet, you remember, means a door and the Nun means wisdom. From that, we understand that in order to judge properly, we must walk through the door of wisdom to weigh every situation balanced and accurately. To judge properly, one must strive from the beginning to the end to seek the true in any matter.

We judge according to the facts, not emotionally, which can sway our judgment. We may also look at the Dalet and the Nun in another way. The Dalet, of course, meaning door, and Nun meaning trustworthy and faithful from our previous studies. In that day, that is, in the day of the Lord, those that are trustworthy, faithful, and true will pass through the doors to the kingdom of God. So the Tav acts as a link to the Day of the Lord.

Let's look at the relationship between the letter Tav and the Hebrew word Emmet, which means truth. Tav represents truth. The reason it is represented by the letter Tav in the word and not the first letter Aleph is because truth is determined by the end of the journey and not the beginning. Now this is from Talmud Shabbat 104a.

Let's look a little more into the word truth. To lie is the word Sheker. To tell the truth is the word Emmet. Lies come, but truth prevails at the end and is eternal. Truth is eternal because Emmet shows us the journey throughout time and through the Aleph-Bet.

We see the Aleph and the Tav, the first or the last, or the beginning and the end of time, and then the letter Mem, which is in the middle of the Aleph-Bet. And we learned that the Mem can mean Mayim, water, and it is representative of the Torah. God is our truth. The Tav that binds us to the truth is Torah.

Just as we learned from our study about the Aleph-Bet, God used the Aleph-Bet and formed all of creation. When we look at the Aleph-Bet, we see Emmet or truth exhibited throughout and see that creation's foundation is based on truth from the God of truth, Torah.

As we learned previously, the Mem at the very center of the Aleph-Bet is like the glue or the heart that sticks the Aleph, the first letter, and the Tav, the last letter, together. The Mem as Mayim or water, which is a picture of the Torah, is what our bodies crave for and must drink continuously in order to sustain physical as well as spiritual life. The first letter in the Aleph-Bet is Aleph. The middle letter is Mem, and the last letter in the Aleph-Bet is Tav. Aleph, Mem, Tav spells Emmet or truth.

So even in the actual Aleph-Bet, we are seeing that God is teaching us truth. The Zohar has a writing pertaining to truth. The last three letters in the story of creation are Bara Elohim La'asot. Of these three words, Bara Elohim La'asot spells the word Emmet according to Shabbat 55a, pertaining to Genesis 2:3. God rested from all His work in shaping and creating truth, Emmet.

As time goes on, we see truth revealed in the world. Proverbs 12:22 says, "Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord, but those who deal faithfully are His delight." Psalm 119:160 says, "The sum of your word is truth, and every one of your righteous judgments is everlasting."

Psalm 51:6 says, "Behold, you desire truth in the innermost being, and in secret you will make wisdom known to me." Numbers 23:19, "God is not man that he should lie, or a son of man that he should change his mind. Has he said, and will he not do it? Or has he spoken, and will he not fulfill it?"

Zechariah 8:16 says, "These are the things that you shall do: Speak the truth to one another; judge with truth and judgment for peace at your gates." Psalm 119:142 says, "Your righteousness is an everlasting righteousness, and your Torah, your law, is truth." Psalm 119:151 says, "You are near, O Lord, and all your commandments are truth."

In our prayer, the standing prayer, the Amidah, it states, "My God, guard my tongue from evil and my lips from speaking lies." Proverbs 3:3 says, "Do not let kindness and truth leave you. Bind them around your neck. Write them on the tablets of your heart."

When the Aleph is removed from the word Emmet, we are left with the word Met, which means death. Aleph represents the openness of God. Without God, without the Aleph, the Torah has no truth, only death. If we want a true life, not what the world tells us is life, we need Torah.

"For Sheol cannot thank you. Death cannot praise you. They that go down into the pit cannot hope for your Emmet, for your truth." Isaiah 38:18. "The Lord is my light and my salvation. Whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life. Of whom shall I be afraid?" Psalm 27:1.

Tav is also seen as a sign or a signature. God said to him in Ezekiel 9:4, "Pass through the city, through Jerusalem, and put a mark on the foreheads of the persons who moan and groan because of all of the abominations that are committed in it." Mark the foreheads, the Tav, as a sign of exemption.

The Holy One, blessed be He, said to the angel Gabriel, "Go and inscribe a Tav of ink on the foreheads of the righteous as a sign so that the angel of destruction will not have dominion over them, and inscribe a Tav of blood on the foreheads of the wicked as a sign so that the angels of destruction will have dominion over them." So Tav as a sign we can see in Shabbat 55a.

Rabbi Shmuel bar Nachmani said, "Those are the men that fulfilled the Torah from Aleph to Tav." Resh Lakish said, "The Tav is the last letter in God's seal." And Rabbi Hanina said, "The seal of the Holy One, blessed be He, is truth, is Emmet." Tav is a symbol of life or death.

The Gemara asks further, "And what is different about the letter Tav that it was inscribed on the forehead of the righteous?" Rav said, "Tav is the first letter of the word Tihyeh, you shall live, indicating that the righteous shall live. Tav is also the first letter of the word Tamut, you shall die, indicating that the wicked shall die." Shabbat 55a, 11.

Bereshit is the first time we see the letter Tav when we read "In the beginning." We are already introduced to a timeline that has been established through that one word, Bereshit. The letter Tav, being the last letter in the Aleph-Bet, by implication shows us the end because the entire Aleph-Bet was already established.

Tav is the link to the Malchut, to the kingdom, because after Tav, we are introduced to the world God created with the Aleph-Bet and the world to come, His kingdom. Malchutcha malchut kol olamim umemshaltecha bechol dor vador. Psalm 145:13. "Your kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and your dominion endures throughout all generations."

I leave you with this thought as we end our Aleph-Bet journey. Kabbalah teaches: When a non-Jew feels a pull towards the Jewish faith and a desire to belong to the Jewish people, it may be a latent Jewish soul wanting to return to its community of origin, a long-lost child of Abraham and Sarah reuniting with its family. May your days be filled with the Torah as you walk through your journey in life, and may the light of the word illuminate your path. Thank you for spending this time with me. Blessings to all and Shabbat Shalom.

Candace Long: If you'd like to reach out to Eileen, you can contact her through the levtzion.org link under Rabbi Michael Washer's bio. Coming up in the next hour, Andrew Gabriel Roth gives us a detailed look at Aramaic insights into the Gospels of Matthew and Mark that he discovered while writing his translation of the New Testament called the Apostolic Writings. Following him, I'll share a lesson in the latter days. Stay tuned for the second hour on WEZE 590, our media partner for shabbatshalomradio.com.