Small Things Are Great

Genesis 33 and 34 end with two strong closing statements. In one, Jacob builds an altar and calls it El Elohe Israel. In the other, Jacob’s sons ask, “Should he have treated our sister like a prostitute?” Two endings—one full of worship, one full of anger—but together they bring us back to a very important question: Who is God? As we’ve read Genesis, God keeps showing up with different names. These names are not random—they reveal who He is and how people experienced Him. So far we’ve met: * Elohim – Creator God (Genesis 1:1) * YHWH – LORD (Genesis 2:4) * El Shaddai – God Almighty (Genesis 17:1) * El Elyon – God Most High (Genesis 14:18) * El Olam – Everlasting God (Genesis 21:33) * El Roi – The God who sees me (Hagar’s name for Him, Genesis 16:13) * El Elohe Israel – God, the God of Israel (Genesis 33:20) Some of these names God reveals Himself while others are names people gave Him after personal encounters—real moments where they understood a new part of His character. In today’s pa...

There is something quietly surprising about this part of Genesis. As we've been reading, we instinctively treat men like Noah, Abraham, and others before Jacob as though they were Israelites. Yet the truth is almost the opposite: there were no Israelites on earth during their lifetimes. The name “Israel” had not yet been spoken. No nation had yet been formed. Instead, the world at that time was organized around families, not nationalities. People drew their identity from the name of their father or the leader of their household. Communities were not built by borders or governments but by bloodline, memory, and a shared story. That is what makes Jacob so important. When God renames him Israel, something entirely new begins. He becomes the first person to carry this name, and his children become the first community to carry that identity. In reality, we should imagine their names like this: Reuben Israel, Simeon Israel, Levi Israel, Judah Israel… and so on. Israel becomes their famil...

Persecution has been on my mind a lot lately. The stories we keep hearing—people losing homes, losing safety, yet still worshipping God boldly—have humbled me. What surprises me every time is the love these believers show for God even when they are threatened or forced to flee. They keep standing. They keep worshipping. They keep saying, “God is worth it,” even when danger is right in front of them. I often think about Daniel when I hear such stories. In the first story, Daniel’s friends refused to bow to the giant statue the king had set up. The king was furious and threw them into a blazing furnace. But what they told him still shakes my heart today: “Our God can save us. But even if He doesn’t, we will not bow.” Their faith wasn’t based on whether God would stop the fire. Their faith was based on loyalty. They trusted God with their souls, even if their bodies burned. Then there is the story from Daniel 6. A law was passed that everyone had to pray to the king. Daniel didn’t even fl...

When we read the story of Hagar and Ishmael, it’s easy for people to mix things up — especially because “Ishmael” and “Islam” sound like cousins. But once you look closely at the story and history, you discover they’re not cousins at all. They’re not even neighbours. Let me explain. When Hagar had Ishmael, what was born was a people group, not a religion. These were real human beings — families, clans, tribes — the kind of people who share food, land, jokes, and family drama. And God looked at this child, Ishmael, and did something very important: He blessed him. He promised to make him a great nation and He kept His word. These descendants of Ishmael are not “bad people” or “wrong people.” They are simply people — and they are included in God’s kindness and mercy. You’ll find kind, honest, warm-hearted people among them just as you will among any other group. Think of it as a child born out of wedlock, rape or unplanned pregnancy. God doesn't look at the child as a mistake or a ba...

In this week's reading we go through Genesis 16–25. This section becomes very interesting once we stop reading only to “get a revelation” and instead ask, “What is actually happening here?” These chapters start with the birth of Ishmael and end with Esau giving away his whole birthright for a bowl of soup. Yes—soup. Not pilau, not nyama choma… just supu ya ndengu. In between these events, the story is full of real people, real mistakes, and a very real God whose character is continually revealed. It all begins with a tough situation. Sarai cannot have a child, so she gives her servant Hagar to Abraham. Today, this whole arrangement would be the plot of a very dramatic TV show. Ishmael is born, and God BLESSES him. But even with all the drama, jealousy, and complaints, we see something important: Abrams mistake did not interfere with God’s plans. Even when he took a shortcut, God still stuck to His plan. As the story continues, Abram now has two key women in his home, and instead of...

As we transition to another key personality in the history of the Church, I hope you noticed something interesting (and slightly shocking) in the genealogies: one brother married his niece, another married his half-sister. One married the daughter of his brother, while the other married the daughter of his father. These kinds of unions will later be clearly prohibited when we reach Leviticus—but at this point in the story, they were part of the early human experience. Now, as we move into the life of Abram, we encounter a new and unique trait of God. Earlier in Genesis, we saw God naming things—light, day, night, creatures—but now He begins renaming people. This pattern continues into the New Testament, though somewhere along the way, the Church ended up misusing the idea by giving people new names during baptism, as though the name itself was the source of holiness. But here, renaming is God’s work, tied to purpose, identity, and calling. Come to think of it, remember this promise tha...

Genesis 10 reads like the UN 😁 — nations, families, languages, territories. After the flood, with only eight survivors, it is natural to imagine Noah calling for a meeting immediately they left the ark and found everyone dead and insisting on unity, family, umoja, togetherness, a strong communal spirit. Humanity had nearly been wiped out; unity felt necessary, even urgent. But Genesis 11 shows us how that unity went too far. Under the leadership of one of their heroes (10:9), the people decided to build a direct path to heaven. They were united, determined, and ambitious. I doubt they even knew how high heaven was, but stamina was not the issue. Determination was not the problem. This were real gym buddies who never missed on a leg day. The real question is: Mungu ni nani? God’s kingdom is not accessed by physical effort, architectural genius, or collective ambition. The standards of His kingdom have nothing to do with how far you can walk, how high you can climb, or how strong your l...

It is good to note, as we head into the coming week, that the Bible is not a general history of the world, nor is it merely the history of the Jews. Rather, it is the story of the world from God’s perspective. As you read, approach the text as you would someone retelling a story. A storyteller does not tell everything; they tell what they observed, what they found relevant, and what serves the point they are making. What is left out is not forgotten — it is simply not central to the conversation at that moment. In chapter 5, for example, you will notice that Cain and Abel are no longer mentioned as sons of Adam, nor are the wives of these men. The reason is simple: to the storyteller, they are not relevant to what is being unfolded at that point. The names that are mentioned are key names. Please read them intentionally. The final person on that list is Noah and his sons, whose relevance becomes central to the next movement of the story. Noah is the man God uses to preserve life in the...

If a friend asks you to watch a series, wisdom says you start with season one, episode one. It would be unwise to begin at season three or anywhere else other than the beginning. The book of Genesis is season one of the history of the world. Genesis was compiled by a man called Moses and is part of a collection of five books he put together. These five books are called the Pentateuch, from the word penta, meaning five. Jews call it Torah, which means instructions. To them, this were scrolls of instructions. Genesis received its current name around 250 BC, when the Scriptures were being compiled and translated. Before that, it was simply known as “In the beginning.” This was because the Scriptures were written on scrolls—long pieces of material that were rolled open to read and rolled back to close. Scrolls were often named after the first words written on them, and Genesis begins with those famous words: “ In the beginning… ” Genesis was written by Moses, but its beginning is unique. I...

The word Bible comes from the plural Greek word Biblia, which means library. This library that you call your Bible has 66 books, selected to tell the story of our world, the things in it, and the One behind it all. Now, a good student doesn't go into a library to read their class notes. No. You go there to study. This is what the Bereans became famous for. They searched the scriptures to check whether what Teacher Paul taught was aligned to Gods words. This is the same reason Paul used the word "study" as he wrote to Timothy. He said, "study to show yourself approved unto God..." The Bible is meant to be studied not just read. This library of 66 books is divided into two sections. The first section is called the Old Testament and the second section the New Testament. Personally, I refer to the first section as the Scriptures and the second as the New Testimonies- (https://mapstage.blogspot.com/2024/11/rethinking-new-testament-fresh.html). The second part is more...