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| Sunrise at Zion National Park |
There is a notable scriptural and gematria connection between בוקר (bóker), “morning,” which carries a numerical value of 308 and חש (chash), a "listening silence," which also carries a numerical value of 308.
There is a mysterious connection in the letters חש. Chet (ח) 8 is the "great eight" which has a supernatural nature that I blogged about a few days ago and the Shin (ש) 300 which is the crushing teeth just before the last Hebrew letter Tav, a cross, sign, mark. It is the letter of the Shema (Hear) and Shaddai on Jewish doorposts and gates.
In the beginning, God said, “Let there be light,” That first light filled the lifeless void and “God saw that the light was good (tov).” There is perpetual rejoicing in the "morning light." The gematria of בוקר reminds me that this is not random light; it is measured, intentional light. Morning Light has a special holy quality; it is a time to connect with the Creator of the primordial light.
When we are חש (chash) “being quiet” in a chosen, focused, listening‑silence, it is what scripture means when it says, “Be silent before the Lord and wait patiently for Him,” “My soul, be quiet before God, for from Him comes my hope,” and “To You, silence is praise, O God in Zion.”
The חש (chash) “being quiet” is not apathy, not zoning out, not blankness. It is the soul leaning forward. It is the inner posture. It is asking and listening in silence. It is a morning prayer.
חש (chash) is what I believe these scriptures speak of: “In the morning, Lord, You hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before You and wait expectantly.” I pour out my words, but I do not stop there. I step consciously into חש (chash). That is when the “308” (chash) of listening‑silence meets the morning “308” (boker) בוקר. I pause. I wait. I expect. I listen for the quiet reply—the thought I did not generate, the Scripture that surfaces, the gentle correction or comfort that feels like it came from outside my own noise. I am listening for the קול דממה דקה (qol demamáh dakáh), the “still small voice. ” Elijah does not meet God in the wind, the earthquake, or the fire, but in a voice of thin silence—a sound that can only be heard in חש. That voice is the God given Morning Light of day aleph, day 1, in our soul.
Psalm 30.6 describe this 308:
“My soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen wait for the morning.”
Like the morning watchman straining his eyes for the first light on the horizon; in חש, the soul strains its ears for the first whisper of God’s voice.
Today is "Resurrection Day." It is the Chet day and Mary at the tomb shows this in story form. Before the rooster crows, “Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark,” Mary comes to the tomb in tears. She is standing exactly where this meditation lives: between night and morning, between not‑understanding and understanding. Her heart is in חש, grief‑softened, listening‑ready silence into which the risen Lord speaks. There, in the half‑light, she hears a single word—“Mary”—and everything changes. Her resurrection encounter begins not with seeing, but with hearing. The Voice is alive and it knows her name. Matching 308's. The pattern of Genesis 1 becomes personal. “Let there be light” is spoken again—not just over the world, but over our personal darkness.
I like to think that when we say "Good Morning" (Boker Tov), in some profound way we are celebrating Creation.
