He's a Lamb, but He's also a Lion

All right, well, we are in Genesis chapter 49. One chapter this week—we’re pumping the brakes a little bit. You might even wonder, “What in the world? Why does this chapter get a whole week?” It says things like, “Issachar is a strong donkey,” and Pastor Ethan had to preach four chapters at a time. Hopefully, by the end of it, you’ll realize just how significant this chapter is.

Genesis chapter 49. Before we begin, let me pray.

Lord, we ask that You would come and teach us Your Word. What vain effort this will be if we try to understand Your living Word with dead hearts. So, God, stir us, awaken us, and remove distractions. Lord, this is something of a challenging text to wrap our minds fully around. We’re going to need Your help. Be with us, God. We ask in Jesus’ name. Amen.

As we make our way to Genesis 49, let me ask you this: Do you know what a fault line is? Have you ever heard of one? I actually used to live over a fault line. A fault line is a crack in the earth’s crust, where a fracture exists deep down, allowing things to move when there’s a gap.

Consider packing a moving truck: You want everything snug, secure, and well organized, not thrown in haphazardly with space between everything. Otherwise, by the time you reach your destination, things will have shifted around quite a bit. Where there are fault lines, there are earthquakes. Giant rocks deep beneath the earth’s surface slowly slip into gaps. That’s kind of like throwing a boulder into a pond. You throw a boulder into a pond, and what’s going to happen? That kinetic energy is going to explode and ripple out all over the pond.

These fault lines are formed, they say, through the convergence of tectonic plates. Now, I know nothing about this stuff. It’s well above my pay grade. But they say that even in southern Mexico, where I used to live, you have the Cocos Plate converging with the plate that is North America. Indeed, fault lines form where tectonic plates converge, and seismic activity occurs where fault lines are present.

I would submit to you, brothers and sisters, that Genesis 49 is a fault line residing at the heart of two converging tectonic plates: Genesis and Exodus. This fault line, we will discover, is rife with seismic activity, with all sorts of things bubbling to the surface—powerful, continent-shaping truths that we would do well to understand.

But let me warn you up front: Understanding won’t come easily. There are some rich and sweet insights to be gained today, and with God’s grace, I suspect you’ll leave knowing a few new things from His Word. But you won’t learn them if you’re not focused. I’ll just say it straight: It’s tough to learn when your mind’s elsewhere. We’ll need to dig deep. These aren’t surface-level truths. I would ask that everyone do their best to lock in, and I’ll do my best to do the same. Perhaps, collectively, God will bless us through the study of His Word.

All right, let’s dive into Genesis chapter 49. Please pay close attention. Beginning in verse one:

Jacob called his sons together, saying, “Gather around so I can tell you what’s going to happen to each of you in the days ahead. Now listen up, all you sons of Jacob. Pay attention, for this is your father Israel speaking.

“Reuben, you are my firstborn, my might and the firstfruits of my strength, preeminent in dignity and preeminent in power. Unstable as water, you shall not have preeminence, for you went up to your father’s bed and defiled it. You even went up to my couch.

“Simeon and Levi are brothers; weapons of violence are their swords. Let my soul come not into their counsel. Oh me, I don’t want to be lumped in with them. They killed men out of anger, and they harmed oxen because of their stubbornness. Let them direct their anger at me if they must, for it’s fierce, and their wrath is cruel. I’ll divide them in Jacob and scatter them throughout Israel.

“Judah, your brothers shall praise you. Your hand shall be on the neck of your enemies. Your father’s sons shall bow down before you. Judah is a lion’s cub; from the prey, my son, you have gone up. He stooped down; he crouched as a lion and as a lioness. Who dares to rouse him? The scepter shall not depart from Judah, nor the ruler’s staff from between his feet, until tribute comes to him; and to him shall be the obedience of the peoples, binding his foal to the vine and his donkey’s colt to the choice vine. He has washed his garments in wine and his vesture in the blood of grapes. His eyes are darker than wine, and his teeth are whiter than milk.

“Zebulun shall dwell at the shore of the sea. He shall become a haven for ships, with his border reaching Sidon.

“Issachar is a strong donkey, crouching between the sheepfolds. He saw that a resting place was good and that the land was pleasant, so he bowed his shoulder to bear and became a servant at forced labor.

“Dan shall judge his people as one of the tribes of Israel. Dan shall be a serpent in the way, a viper by the path, that bites the horse’s heels so that the rider falls backward. I wait for Your salvation, O Lord.

“Raiders shall raid Gad, but he shall raid at their heels.

“Asher’s food shall be rich, and he shall yield royal delicacies.

“Naphtali is a doe let loose that bears beautiful fawns.

“Joseph is a flourishing vine, growing beside a wellspring; his branches climbed over the wall. The archers bitterly attacked him, shooting at him and harassing him severely. Yet his bow remained unmoved. His arms were made agile by the hands of the Mighty One of Jacob, and there is the Shepherd, the Stone of Israel. By the God of your father, who will help you, by the Almighty, who will bless you with blessings of heaven above and blessings of the deep that crouches beneath, blessings of the breasts and of the womb—the blessings of your father are mighty beyond the blessings of my parents, up to the bounties of the everlasting hills. May they be on the head of Joseph and on the brow of him who was set apart from his brothers.

“Benjamin is a ravenous wolf, in the morning devouring the prey and in the evening dividing the spoil.”

All these are the twelve tribes of Israel. This is what their father said to them as he blessed them, blessing each with the blessing suitable to them.

Then he commanded them and said to them, “I am to be gathered to my people; bury me with my fathers in the cave that is in the field of Ephron the Hittite, in the cave that is in the field at Machpelah, to the east of Mamre, in the land of Canaan, which Abraham bought with the field of Ephron the Hittite to possess as a burying place. There they buried Abraham and Sarah his wife. There they buried Isaac and Rebekah his wife, and there I buried Leah. The field and the cave that is in it were bought from the Hittites.”

When Jacob finished commanding his sons, he drew up his feet into the bed, breathed his last, and was gathered to his people.

This is the Word of the Lord. Thanks be to God.

Here’s my plan for the morning. We’ll spend a third of our time examining the forest, another third looking at the trees, and the final third drawing conclusions from what we observe.

In essence, Genesis 49 is about blessings—and some not-so-blessings. Jacob, clearly nearing his end, calls his twelve sons to him one by one to bestow his blessings. Formally, this is indeed the establishment of the twelve tribes of Israel. Each son, each tribe, receives a word from their father before he dies. At first glance, one might think that this chapter simply records Jacob’s final words, his dying wishes. But Genesis 49 is actually much more than that.

To help illustrate this, let’s first step back and view the larger picture—the forest—before zooming in on the specific verses.

First, let’s talk about the forest. As I’ve mentioned, Genesis 49 is a crucial chapter. Its significance becomes even clearer when viewed within the context of the entire book. So I’m going to give you a couple of terms that will help us as we start this study together.

The first term is the Pentateuch. Maybe you’ve heard me say that before. Do you know what Pentateuch means? It comes from the Greek words penta, meaning “five,” and teuchos, which means “book” or “scroll.” The Pentateuch consists of the first five books of the Bible: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy. Collectively, these five books really are one book; they form one book together.

I have another term for you. You might see it on your bulletin as “The Chiastic Structure of the Pentateuch.” The second term is chiasm, which is a way ancient authors structured their writings to create meaning.

For instance, during my eleventh-grade year, Miss Luanda Badgett endeavored to have me compose essays adhering to a particular structure. She explained that, first, you need an introduction outlining your thesis. Following this, you have body paragraphs, each starting with a concise topic statement summarizing the argument to follow. You conclude by restating your thesis and patting yourself on the back for proving it right. That’s the structure she provided me. That’s how I learned to write and organize my thoughts to create meaning.

Guess what? Ancient authors had their own ways, too. They would use something called a chiasmus. So, if you have your handout handy, go ahead and get that bad boy out in front of you. I’ve got one here, too. One of the great things about being a smaller number is that we can afford to print in color. Isn’t that sweet?

You have this chart in front of you. The argument I’m presenting with it is that the first five books of the Bible, known as the Pentateuch, are structured in a chiasmus. You’ll see on your chart that each section corresponds to another later in the book, except for Leviticus 16, which is the centerpiece: the Day of Atonement, the heart of the entire work.

If we start from the middle and work our way outward, we’ll see that on both sides of the book of Leviticus, there are instructions about the tabernacle. If you read Exodus 21 through 40 and Numbers 1 through 10, you’ll notice a lot of repetition: similar words, instructions, and themes.

Then, if you look at the wilderness wanderings, you’ll find more repeated stories. For instance, in Exodus 17, Moses strikes a rock for water. Later, in Numbers 20, he does it again, but this time in anger. Similarly, Israel’s grumbling for food in Exodus 16 is echoed in Numbers 11, when God provides quail again. Even the story of the golden calf in Exodus 32 seems to have a counterpart in the bronze serpent in Numbers 21. So you have these mirroring stories on opposite sides of the chiasmus.

If we were to go one layer outward, we’d see that Israel defeats its enemies. God, of course, in Exodus defeats Egypt. He lays waste to Pharaoh and his chariots, like a wild ox ravaging its enemies. Similarly, in the book of Numbers, as Israel begins to enter the outskirts of the Promised Land, they fight and defeat the Canaanites, Amorites, and Moabites.

This all happens just before our section of study today, which I’ve labeled “Poetic Seams.” Now, if my hypothesis is correct that the Pentateuch is laid out as a chiasm, then Genesis 49 and this other poem in Numbers 24 should repeat similar words and themes. Are you following along? Is this making sense so far?

If these poems convey similar messages and indeed mirror parts of a chiastic structure, it would be beneficial for us to look briefly through Numbers chapter 24. So, could you turn there with me now? Numbers chapter 24.

While you’re finding your place, I’ll fill you in on what’s happening in Numbers at this point in the story. By the time they reach Numbers 24, Israel is camped east of the Jordan River. They haven’t officially entered the Promised Land yet, but they’ve defeated some of the surrounding peoples.

At this point in the story, God has already condemned that entire generation that left Egypt never to enter the Promised Land. For now, they’ll stay where they are until that generation passes away. They will not enter because of their persistent rebellion, hardness of heart, and unbelief.

Yet even so, with them merely encamped east of the Jordan, Balak, king of Moab, has heard tales of these Hebrew people and, more significantly, of their God. He knows this God is mighty, having crushed the Egyptians and defeated the Amorites and the king of Bashan, and he fears that he might be next.

So Balak hired a man named Balaam, who was a renowned seer and pagan prophet in that region. His intention was for Balaam to curse Israel, hoping that, if God was fighting for them, perhaps the seer could reverse the blessings their God was granting. And maybe then, Balak thought, we can defeat them in battle. That’s at least what Balak had in mind.

By Numbers 24, this is the third of Balaam’s oracles. Balaam, the prophet, has gone ahead and made his sacrifices. He’s tried to commune with Israel’s God. This is his third attempt to curse Israel, but instead, Balaam pronounces one of the most profound blessings found in all of the Pentateuch.

I’ll begin reading in verse one. Here’s what I want you to do: We’ve just read Genesis 49, so let’s listen carefully as we read Numbers 24 and see if anything in it reminds us of Genesis 49. Do you notice any repetitions in terms of phrases or themes?

“When Balaam saw that it pleased the Lord to bless Israel, he did not go, as at other times, to look for omens, but set his face toward the wilderness. And Balaam lifted up his eyes and saw Israel camping tribe by tribe, and the Spirit of God came upon him.”

Okay, so previously Balaam, this pagan prophet, was just speaking according to whatever demonic powers and forces were enabling him to serve as a seer. But this time Yahweh’s Spirit has descended upon him. This is a true prophecy that he’s about to give.

“And he took up his discourse and said, ‘The oracle of Balaam, the son of Beor, the oracle of the man whose eye is opened, the oracle of him who hears the words of God, who sees the vision of the Almighty, falling down with his eyes uncovered: How lovely are your tents, O Jacob, your encampments, O Israel! Like palm groves that stretch afar, like gardens beside a river, like aloes that the Lord has planted, like cedar trees beside the waters.’”

Very Edenic language indeed. It sounds like the Garden of Eden itself. These people, Israel, are truly bountiful. They’re lined up along the bank. They are well cared for, well protected, and well blessed by their God.

Verse seven: “Water shall flow from his buckets, and his seed shall be in many waters. His king shall be higher than Agag, and his kingdom shall be exalted.”

Here we have something of a transition. I think the “his” in verse seven is actually referring to Yahweh. You could argue that it refers to Israel or Yahweh, but verse seven introduces a king who is higher than Agag, with an exalted kingdom. Balaam says God brings this king out of Egypt, likening him to the horns of a wild ox. He shall “eat up” the nations, his adversaries, and “break their bones in pieces,” piercing them through with his arrows.

That certainly rings a bell for me. Did we read anything like that in Genesis 49? Do you remember anything about arrows? It was about Joseph: “The archers bitterly attacked him, shot at him, and harassed him severely, yet his bow remained unmoved. His arms were made agile.”

Now look at verse nine: “He crouched, he lay down like a lion and like a lioness; who will rouse him up?” That is very clearly Genesis 49, isn’t it? That was said of Judah: “Judah is a lion’s cub; from the prey, my son, you have gone up. He stooped down; he crouched like a lion and a lioness. Who dares to rouse him?” This clearly refers to Judah.

Then we encounter this Abrahamic blessing at the end of verse nine: “Blessed are those who bless you, and cursed are those who curse you.” The blessings of Abraham. But I’ll tell you what: Even that makes me think of Genesis 49. Why? Because the word “blessing” was used six times in two verses describing Joseph. He’s this blessed, beloved son.

Let’s keep reading. In verses 10 through 13, Balak is furious. He’s upset. “Hey, you were supposed to curse Israel, and you’re just blessing them.” And Balaam says, “Well, what am I supposed to do? Can I go against the Lord? Can I go against Yahweh? Whatever He puts in my mouth, I must say.”

Then he speaks again. He’s going to continue prophesying. Look at verse 14: “And now, behold, I am going to my people. Come, I will let you know what this people will do to your people in the latter days.”

Interestingly, Jacob begins his prophecy in Genesis 49:1 with the same phrase: “Gather yourselves together, and I will let you know what is to happen in the last days.” So these prophecies given in Genesis 49 and Numbers 24—are they about the present? No, they’re about the future.

In Balaam’s prophecy, he says in verse 17 that it’s about a king: “I see him, but not now; I behold him, but not near. A star shall come out of Jacob, a scepter shall rise out of Israel. It shall crush the forehead of Moab; it shall break down the sons of Sheth.”

This is the promised seed first mentioned in Genesis 3, who will crush the head of the serpent, here referred to as a king whose scepter will never depart from Judah. This passage is meant to be read alongside Genesis 49. Consider them together.

Look, there’s so much I could say. I’m nerding out to a degree that is probably unhelpful at this point. I always say that the worst sermons I preach are the ones where I’m most familiar with the text. Have you heard the iceberg analogy for preaching? Well, this is just the tip of the iceberg. Here’s my attempt at refining and condensing it. There’s so much happening in these poems; I wish I had time to tell you about it all. This kind of stuff is really fun for me, and that’s why I’m sharing it with you. The payoff is just around the corner, so stick with me.

I’m going to add a couple more points about the structure, and then we’ll move on. Let me just say this: There are actually only four major poems in the Pentateuch. You might think there are more, but they’re just Genesis 49; Exodus 15; Numbers 23 and 24, which are connected; and Deuteronomy 32 and 33, which go together.

Four poems, each one poised at the point where tectonic plates converge. Big narratives are coming together. In Genesis and Exodus, we’re thinking about Exodus 15: led out of Egypt, formerly enslaved people, now a new people. Exodus 15 is where God destroys Pharaoh. It’s the Song of Moses, their victory.

Or even here in Numbers chapter 24—do you know what’s happening now? The first generation that left Egypt is passing away. Soon we’ll move on to Numbers 25 and meet the next generation, who will enter the Promised Land. So there’s this stitching, this connecting power, going on with these poems.

Evidently, these poems are very important to Moses, as he repeatedly emphasizes the same themes: a warrior king who will conquer enemies, attract global submission, and emerge in the end times, ruling as God’s chosen monarch. When the narrative seems to break, Moses consistently uses one of these poems to propel the story into the future, into the acharit, the latter days.

So here’s my big takeaway from all this structure talk: This must be important. If Moses took all this time to structure the whole book around little poems like this, then they must mean something. He must be getting at something.

In verse one of Genesis 49—let’s flip back there now—we’ll begin to study the trees. I’ll slow down now. Sorry for getting carried away earlier.

In Genesis 49:1, we find that Jacob has gathered his family together. According to verse 33, he’s on his deathbed, ready to deliver his final message to his sons. He’s an old prophet with one last prophecy about the future. But it’s important to note that this isn’t just a prophecy. It’s actually a pronouncement of a blessing, which verse 28 makes abundantly clear. It says, “All these are the twelve tribes of Israel. This is what their father said to them as he blessed them, blessing each one with a blessing suitable to them.”

I find that interesting because three of his sons don’t really get blessings at all. What’s suitable to them is something of an anti-blessing.

Consider Reuben, for instance, who was supposed to inherit from his father but lost his birthright. The question is, why? Because Reuben slept with Bilhah, his father’s concubine, in a betrayal that was also a brazen grab for his father’s power. Reuben had everything, but it wasn’t enough. I love it—that’s a lesson about the human heart, isn’t it?

Then consider Simeon and Levi. They’re next in line, working together as they’ve sinned together. They used the sign of the covenant, circumcision, as a deception to murder all the men of Shechem in cold blood. I mean, think how dirty and vile that is. Imagine persuading people to come to our church with the promise of baptism, then drowning them by holding them under the water during the ritual, just like they did with circumcision.

So the birthright, despite passing to the next in line, is forfeited by Simeon and Levi as well. The anger of man does not produce the righteousness of God.

And so we come to Judah in the text. You’ll remember that Judah is Leah’s fourth son. This whole chapter seems grouped according to mothers, with the first six sons belonging to Leah. The section concludes with Rachel’s two boys, Joseph and Benjamin.

Of the twelve sons, Judah and Joseph receive the most attention, with twenty-four verses in the chapter, ten of which are solely about Judah and Joseph. The rest get one or two verses each. Let’s hold off on Judah for now and address the remaining sons before circling back to these two, who seem to be the most important in this passage.

Remember, these blessings also serve as prophecies, predicting what will happen in the future. Take Zebulun, for instance. Zebulun, despite having landlocked tribal allotments, became renowned for its seaside commerce and trade. That seems to be clear.

Then there’s this blessing, this prophecy, for Issachar. Issachar is allotted good, fertile land, but in their bounty they become complacent, and they are conquered and enslaved by rival nations. Each tribe has a name that is a play on words, and each one hints at what will happen to them in the future.

This brings us to Judah and Joseph. I’m just going to skip to these guys. I spent too much time talking about structure. If that is where Jacob dedicates the bulk of his time, I think it’s worth the bulk of our time as well.

Judah, interestingly, is first likened to Joseph. In verse eight, it states, “Your brothers shall praise you. Your father’s sons shall bow down before you.” We’ve seen that before, haven’t we? Joseph had dreams in which his brothers did indeed bow down to him in chapters 42 and 43, and again in chapter 44. But here they’re bowing down not before Joseph, but before Judah.

Judah is depicted as a warrior. Where are his hands in this poem? They’re around the necks of his enemies. That’s a ferocious image, isn’t it? Speaking of ferocious, he’s a lion, crouched and ready to pounce—a warrior.

Verse 10 tells us that he is a king. In his hands is a scepter, a ruler’s staff. It won’t leave him. He’ll be a king, staying a king, ruling not just over his brothers but over all the peoples. All the nations will come to bow before him. They’ll obey him, and he shall be king.

His rule will bring great prosperity. Prosperity is so abundant that he can afford to tie a donkey to his choicest grapevine without caring whether it eats the grapes, because he has countless more vines. He has so much fruit of the vine that he literally washes his garments in wine. Thus, Judah is an eternal king over all nations, to whom all things belong and who will crush all his enemies.

Joseph is depicted as incredibly fertile. He is, as verse 22 says, a fruitful bough by a spring. It’s a large, fruit-bearing branch, so abundant that it breaks out beyond its boundaries. It’s simply expanding beyond its territory.

Although Joseph was attacked—they tried to kill him, they tried to take him out—the Mighty One of Jacob sustained him and preserved his life. Therefore, the blessing belonged to Joseph. There is so much blessing in these verses. In fact, as mentioned earlier, the root word for “bless” appears six times across two verses. If Judah inherits the birthright after his older brothers forfeit it, Joseph receives the blessing because he is the beloved son.

So, what do we make of this? That’s a lot of observing. Do you feel like you were just in a seminary class? We’ve got to synthesize some meaning now. What conclusions can we draw from this morning’s study, where we’ve gone here, there, and everywhere?

Well, it’s clear from the structure of the Pentateuch that Genesis 49 is indeed a fault line. It’s important. The land is rife with seismic activity. It’s also clear that Judah and Joseph hold significant importance in Genesis 49, as is evident when comparing Genesis 49 to Numbers 24. But the question is, why? Why are they important?

What Moses is trying to convey, friends, is the revelation of a coming Messiah, a King who embodies all the promises and foreshadowings of the Pentateuch. This beloved Son inherits Abraham’s blessings and will reign over nations, conquering His enemies like a lion. He is a serpent crusher who will trample the head of Moab.

Just think about this: Jacob entered the scene way back in Genesis 25, immediately stealing his brother Esau’s birthright and blessing. Then, in Genesis 37, the story shifts to focus on both Joseph and Judah for the next twenty chapters. Moses dedicates this time to comparing and contrasting these two brothers, teaching us about the Messiah’s lineage and character.

He will be a single King from the tribe of Judah, bearing both the birthright and the blessing, with an everlasting royal scepter. He will reign forevermore. Like Joseph, He will be beloved by His Father. He’ll forgive His brothers and share His blessings with them.

Today, I tell you that Jesus Christ is that Messiah, the firstborn, beloved Son of God. What Moses saw dimly and prophesied long ago has now come to pass. We’re living in the last days. These are the latter days. At long last, the Lion King has arrived.

Like Judah, Jesus laid down His birthright, willing to suffer in the stead of His brothers. He says, “Take Me. Take Me in My brother’s place.” And they did. They took Him and nailed Him to a crucifix, where He died not for righteous men, nor even good men. He died for scoundrels and sinners like me and like you.

Like Joseph, Jesus shared His overabundant blessings with the nations. All nations can go to Him and live. Jesus, like Joseph, says to the undeserving, “Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat. Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price.”

Friends, when we arrive at the New Testament and read about Jesus being the firstborn among many brothers or the beloved Son of God, know that those aren’t categories the New Testament authors are whipping out of thin air. They’re reading their Bible. They’re reading the Old Testament. They’re getting these categories from people like Judah and from people like Joseph.

Now, I find that absolutely amazing. It just pumps me up and fills my heart with joy. The Bible is so beautiful.

Unfortunately, we have to wrap things up. But before we do, let me offer you three questions for reflection.

Here’s question number one: Did you realize the Bible is this cool? My question for you is, did you know this—that it’s this well put together? The authors have clearly put a lot of thought into this, making its composition intricate and beautiful. It might even make you want to immerse yourself in the Bible, exploring its depths and experiencing its seismic activity. I hope it does.

That is at least one of my primary agendas for this morning: to shake you up and compel you to give yourself to knowing this book.

Here’s the second question for you: Is this how you picture the Messiah? You know, in a lot of our traditional churches, there will be pictures of Jesus on the walls: blond-haired, blue-eyed, very smooth-looking, with flowing hair. Kind of effeminate-looking, really.

This Messiah has His hands around the necks of His enemies, and He’s choking the life out of them. This is a Messiah who is a lion who literally devours His enemies. He tears them limb from limb. Friends, Jesus is merciful. He’s a lamb, but He’s also a lion. And you do not play with this lion. He will not be mocked. One day He will return, and He will have His way with all those foes who refuse to bow the knee before the King.

Our picture of the Messiah should reflect the Bible’s picture of the Messiah: meek and mild Jesus, kind Jesus, but also strong Jesus.

Now, as the Messiah is likened to a lion, a warrior, I ask you: Have you bowed the knee before Him? Are you truly in allegiance to Him? It’s a very easy thing to play religion. In fact, just about everyone throughout human history has been religious in some way or another. Most people claim to know and love God, but believing in a divine power is not all that God wants from us. He demands obedience. He requires our lives to be devoted to Him.

This is reminiscent of Jonathan Edwards’s “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God.” There are all sorts of sweet, precious, and tender things that you can preach from this Word. Sometimes we need to hear a warning, too. This King will return. If you are counted among His foes, you’ll find His hands around your neck. But if you would count Him a friend, if you would count Him your King, then you’ll find His hands around your waist and your back as He carries you all the way into His precious promised land.

Father in heaven, we thank You. We thank You for Your Word—how beautiful, how incredible it is. Lord, I know that my words are feeble, incapable of demonstrating the splendor in this chapter. God, I pray that we feel its magnificence and bow our hearts before Jesus Christ, the Lion King and Savior.

Lord Jesus, You are King. We follow. Help us to be counted as Your friends. Have mercy upon us, O great King. Forgive us our trespasses. Help us to walk faithfully with You. We ask this in the name of King Jesus. And God’s people said, “Amen.”