In this world, Israel stands as the crowned head among nations—a city on a hill whose light is no longer flickering, but blazing. She is not merely a country, but a commandment fulfilled. Her capital, Jerusalem, gleams not only with the light of technology but with the presence of the LORD, whose name is honored in every school, whispered in every home, and sung aloud in every public square. Israel is not rising—she has risen.

From Tel Aviv to Beersheba, innovation flows like milk and honey. Israeli science, seeded by reverence for the Creator, leads in medicine, agriculture, and energy. But these are not godless sciences—they are offerings laid at the altar of truth. The desert blooms, not from human pride, but from divine blessing. Every new invention is dedicated first to God, then to the service of mankind.

The nations of the earth do not bow under duress—they come willingly, joyfully, eagerly. From the islands of the Pacific to the tundras of Siberia, they send their best: their scholars, their leaders, their artists. They come not to teach, but to be taught. Not to colonize, but to commune. Israel is their elder sister, their guiding star, their spiritual mother.

The United States, still strong, now looks to Israel not for political advice, but for moral clarity. China sends emissaries to study Hebrew. African kings bring gifts as in the days of Solomon, not out of obligation, but in honor. Latin America builds synagogues beside their cathedrals. Russia, no longer cloaked in winter’s isolation, has found in Zion a reason to warm its heart. All nations stream to her not for conquest, but for counsel.

The United Nations no longer meets in New York. It meets in Jerusalem. Its chamber is filled with prayer before policy, repentance before rhetoric. The Ark of the Covenant has returned—not hidden in rumor or mystery, but revealed in reverence. The Mount of Olives now hosts peace summits. The Western Wall is no longer a site of weeping, but of worldwide celebration.

The Sabbath is not just a day—it’s a global rhythm. Even in lands far from the Mediterranean, markets rest, families gather, candles glow. Jewish feasts are celebrated not only in Israel, but in every capital of the world. Passover becomes the new marker of freedom. Yom Kippur, a day of global reflection. Sukkot, a week when even the Gentile builds a booth and remembers the faithfulness of the God of Abraham.

Israel’s military is unmatched, not by sheer numbers, but by divine covering. No nation dares provoke her, not out of fear, but out of awe. Her strength is not tyranny—it is testimony. The weapons of war lie dormant, as swords are indeed beaten into plowshares, and tanks into tractors. Peace flows not from treaties, but from truth.

The Temple has been rebuilt. The Levitical priesthood restored. Worship rises like incense not only from Israel, but from the far corners of the earth. The name of the LORD is one, and His name is lifted high.

And in all this—Israel does not exalt herself. She lifts up her God. She is the servant-leader of mankind, not its tyrant. She is queen, yes—but queen in white robes, crowned with humility, bearing the scepter of righteousness. The world rejoices under her guidance, and no sorrow enters her gates.

Now ask yourself—not in doubt, but in expectation: How close are we to this? What must change? What must begin? And is the heart of man ready to receive a nation ruled by the Word of God? Let every knee bow, not to man, but to the LORD who has chosen Zion.

“For the LORD hath chosen Zion; he hath desired it for his habitation. This is my rest for ever: here will I dwell; for I have desired it.” —Psalm 132:13–14, KJV.