This, That, and the One Who Stands Before You

There is a word in the holy tongue so small it might be overlooked, yet it carries the weight of a pointing finger, the specificity of a gaze. The word zôw (זוֹ) appears only twice in the entire Tanakh—a rare gem, a whisper from the mouth of the Living God. It is a demonstrative, a grammatical pointer, meaning "this" or "that." But to the ear of one who listens with the heart, it is not merely a word of location; it is a word of identification. When the Most High speaks through this tiny vessel, He is saying: Pay attention. This thing, this person, this moment—here is where heaven touches earth.

The Root and the Finger of God

The word zôw is derived from the more common zeh (H2088), the standard Hebrew word for "this." The ancient sages observed that the letter zayin, which begins this root, is drawn in the paleo-Hebrew script as a sword or a weapon. It is the letter of cutting, of dividing, of making a distinction. When you say zôw, you are not just pointing vaguely; you are drawing a line in the sand. You are saying: This, and not that. This covenant, not the old ways of death. This path, not the wide road. The first occurrence of zôw in Scripture is found in the book of Exodus, where the Lord speaks of the Passover lamb. It is a word that separates the household of faith from the house of bondage.

The First Occurrence: A Lamb for the Door

Turn your eyes to Exodus 12, the night of nights. The blood of the lamb is to be a sign upon the houses. The text declares that the Lord will pass over the door and will not suffer the destroyer to enter your houses when He sees the blood. And then comes the word zôw: "And this day (zôw) shall be unto you for a memorial" (Exodus 12:14). The sages teach that this word is not accidental. It is as if the Holy One, blessed be He, reached down through the centuries and placed His finger upon that single day, saying: This day—not a metaphor, not a symbol, but a very real moment in time—will be the hinge of history. The word zôw makes the abstract become concrete. It takes the promise of redemption and nails it to the calendar of your soul.

The Second Occurrence: A Song on the Shore

The second and final appearance of zôw is in the song of Moses, after the sea has swallowed the chariots of Egypt. In Exodus 15:2, the redeemed people cry out: "The LORD is my strength and song, and He is become my salvation: He is my God, and I will prepare Him a habitation; my father's God, and I will exalt Him." The structure of the Hebrew verse is intricate, and the ancient rabbis noticed that the demonstrative zôw is used here to bind the past to the present. The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—that God—is now this God, my God. The word bridges the generations. It is the declaration of a people who have seen with their own eyes the deliverance their fathers only dreamed of. The rabbis of old would say that at the Sea, even the simplest maidservant saw what the prophet Isaiah never saw. And the word zôw is the grammar of that vision: This is the One.

The Gematria of Distinction: The Number Thirteen

The numerical value of zôw is thirteen. In the wisdom of the Hebrew letters, thirteen is the number of achdut—unity—and also the number of ahavah, love, for the word "love" (ahavah) has a gematria of thirteen. But it is also the number of the midot, the attributes of mercy by which the Holy One governs the world. When the word zôw appears, it is as if the number thirteen itself is whispering: This is the place where love becomes specific. Not a general love for all mankind, but a love that chooses, a love that distinguishes, a love that says: You. The rabbis teach that the number thirteen also corresponds to the age of maturity, the age when a child becomes responsible for the commandments. Zôw is a word for those who have grown up, who can see the difference between the holy and the profane, and who choose to stand on the side of the Lamb.

The Messianic Finger: Yeshua and the Word of Pointing

When Yeshua walked the dusty roads of Galilee, He often used the language of this and that to draw lines no one else could see. "This is my body," He said, breaking the bread (Matthew 26:26). "This is my blood of the covenant" (Matthew 26:28). He took the small, ordinary things of earth—bread, wine, a cup—and filled them with the weight of the eternal. The apostolic tradition teaches that Yeshua is the true Passover Lamb, the One to whom the finger of zôw was pointing from the very first night in Egypt. When John the Baptist saw Him coming, he did not speak in abstractions. He cried out: "Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!" (John 1:29). That is the voice of zôw—the voice that identifies, that specifies, that says: This one. Not a lamb, but the Lamb. Not a king, but the King. The Messiah is the ultimate referent of every holy finger that points in Scripture.

The Tabernacle of the Present Moment

The Tabernacle in the wilderness was built according to a pattern shown to Moses on the mountain. Every curtain, every board, every lampstand was a this, a specific object that carried a heavenly meaning. The word zôw is like the Tabernacle itself: it is the place where the invisible becomes visible. The Jewish festivals, too, are bound up with this word. Passover is not just a memory; it is a zôw—a "this" that re-presents itself every year. The early church understood that in Yeshua, every festival found its fulfillment. He is the Passover zôw, the unleavened bread zôw, the firstfruits zôw. When you say this with the eyes of faith, you are not merely recalling history; you are entering into the eternal now of God's redemption.

A Charge to the Congregation: The Word in Your Mouth

Beloved, the word zôw appears only twice in all of Scripture. It is a rare bird, a fleeting song. But what if the Lord is calling you to make it your own? What if He is asking you to point your finger—the finger of your faith—at the Lamb and say: This is my salvation. This is my God. Not the God of your fathers only, but your God, here, now, in this very breath. The world is full of vague words, of maybe and perhaps and someday. But zôw is the language of decision. It is the word that cuts through the fog of doubt and says: This day I choose. This path I walk. This Messiah I follow. Go, and let the word zôw be upon your lips as you walk through the door of this new day. The Lamb has been identified. Now, will you identify yourself with Him?