The Purpose of Passover

The First Glimpse                                                                       

“The Lord God made garments of skin for Adam and his wife and clothed them.”         Genesis 3:21

They stood forlorn—trembling in fear and failure.  Fig leaves are a poor camouflage for sin.  The serpent had taunted and tantalized, “Did God really say, ‘You must not eat from any tree in the garden,’?  You won’t die...When you eat…you will be like God.”  Eve had glanced at the fruit again.  It looked good.  It would taste great.  It might make her a genius.  How could she refuse?  She couldn’t.  And Adam didn’t.

They tried to cover up what they had done and cover over who they were.  Neither worked.  No amount of good could make up for the bad, for in that moment everything had changed—for the worse.  Would it ever be right again?  Could it ever be right again?

No more perfect garden.   Adam would now fight the ground as he labored for food.  Eve would now groan with pain as she labored for life.  And God would not come to walk and talk in the cool of the day.  

Yet even in their guilt, they were draped with grace as God protected and provided.  Their fig-leaf garments would rip and tear.  Something better was needed, so “the Lord God made garments of skin for Adam and his wife and clothed them.”  

The lamb gasped and breathed his last.

And God took care of His children.

The Preview                                                                                                   

“The blood will be a sign for you on the houses where you are; and when I see the blood, I will pass over you.”   Exodus 11:13

“Daddy, why are you in a hurry?  Why do you have that hyssop?  What will you do with the lamb?  Why are we stopping at the door?”  The boy’s mouth moved faster than his feet as he struggled to keep pace with his father’s brisk steps, so the man paused and knelt beside his son. 

“Because of you, my dear one.  Because of you.”  He pulled the lad close and continued, “Tonight the Lord will pass through Egypt and strike down the firstborn son in every family. But He has provided a way for us—for you—to be saved. If He sees the blood of a lamb, a perfect lamb, covering the doorway, He will pass over our house, and no one in it will die.”

The little boy quivered and tightly grasped his father’s hand. 

“Have no fear, my son.  Only faith.  We will be saved by the blood.”

The lamb gasped and breathed his last.

And God took care of His children.

The Main Event                                                                                            

“Jesus called out with a loud voice, ‘Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.’  When he had said this, he breathed his last.”   Luke 23:46

With a heavy thud, the cross settled into the crude hole.  Jesus lurched in pain and gasped for air.  The joyous praise of adoring angels seemed eons away as His unending glory was cruelly replaced with undeserved agony.  Through the anguish, He could hear the jeering taunts of pious priests.  “He saved others, but he can’t save himself!”

They were wrong.  And right.  Oh, He could save himself.  Never wonder about that.  Had He desired, thousands of angels would have swooped to His rescue.   It could have been an “off the cross and in your face” moment that silenced His accusers and delighted His followers.  But Jesus couldn’t save Himself and us too.  So He chose us. 

“Not my will but Yours be done,” Jesus had prayed the night before in the garden. The Father’s will was that we be saved—saved from a forever without Him.  We deserve hell; He chooses to give us heaven.  We deserve to be kept away; He desires for us to come near.  We are guilty; He is grace.  

But somebody had to pay.  Almighty God cannot give and forgive without justice, or He would not be God.  

He had known about it.  He had planned it.  He would do it.  “God himself will redeem His people from all their sins.”  (Psalm 130:8)

The Lamb gasped and breathed His last.

And God took care of His children.

The Ten Terrible Terrific Plagues

“But the Lord hardened Pharaoh’s heart, and he would not let the Israelites go.” Exodus 10:20

I got personal with the plagues in fifth grade.  

The project was a poster depicting the ten divine disasters brought on Egypt when Pharaoh refused to release God’s people.  The instructions insisted I divide a large piece of paper into the appropriate number of squares and illustrate each affliction.  Just as Moses received help from his brother during the exodus adventure, my sister aided her artistically-challenged sibling by outlining the gnats, flies, frogs, and locusts. (I did color the square portraying the darkness all by myself!)  As I admired my finished work showing the many horrors in ordered succession, I remember thinking, “Why didn’t Pharaoh just let them go?”

You would think he would have when the river churned with blood, frogs filled his bed, gnats matted in his eyes, flies buzzed in his ears, his country’s cattle died and rotted, his skin blistered with painful boils, trees, houses, and inhabitants were beaten and battered by hail, crawling, chomping locusts infested his land, and then all was pitch-black dark for three whole days.  But he didn’t.  You would think that before the Lord struck down his firstborn son, Pharaoh would have gotten the hint that he was dealing with someone bigger, stronger, and better than he could ever fathom, but he didn’t.  Why?  Why didn’t Pharaoh just let them go?

It’s a very good question with a very clear answer—God.  Stated repeatedly in Exodus, we find the words, “But the Lord hardened Pharaoh’s heart, and he would not let the Israelites go”(Ex 10:20).  Pharaoh didn’t let the Israelites go because God wouldn’t let him.  God had a plan and purpose in the plagues, and nobody was leaving until He was done.

He let Pharaoh know such was so with a message—“By now I could have stretched out my hand and struck you and your people with a plague that would have wiped you off the earth. But I have raised you up for this very purpose, that I might show you my power”(Ex 9:15).

God wanted Egypt to know that “there is no one like me in all the earth”(Ex 9:14).  He wanted Israel to know that “I am the Lord”(Ex 10:2).  He wanted the kids and grandkids of those being delivered to know “how I dealt harshly with the Egyptians and how I performed my signs among them”(Ex 10:2). And wanted all alive to know of His glory and power “that my name might be proclaimed in all the earth”(Ex 9:16).

As a later and even more powerful king named Nebuchadnezzar would inform the world, “God does as he pleases with the powers of heaven and the peoples of the earth”(Dan 4:35).  And as if he knew we would wonder if such is fair and fine, he continued with the assuring reminder, “Everything God does is right and all his ways are just”(Dan 4:37).  So the next time a frog hops by or a gnat gets in your eye, don’t be afraid—be amazed by a God who uses all kinds of things in all kinds of ways to help us and others know who He is.

The Ten Plagues are much more than a story of a stubborn Pharaoh.  They are the truth of a sovereign God, and though that can be hard to show (especially on a poster), it’s delightful to know!

Bad To Worse To Wonderful

“You are no longer to supply the people with straw for making bricks; let them go and gather their own straw.”  Exodus 5:7

Sometimes things go from bad to worse for no apparent reason—at least not what seems like a good one.

The Israelites felt this way when Moses showed up and their circumstances went down, and it just didn’t make sense.  Moses came to Egypt to encourage God’s people and confront Pharaoh, but instead of deliverance, all they got was double duty.  “You are no longer to supply the people with straw for making bricks; let them go and gather their own straw. But require them to make the same number of bricks as before; don’t reduce the quota”(Ex 5:7-8).

The demands were impossible, and unbuilt bricks meant beaten backs.  The Jews were furious at God’s messenger and minced no words. “May the Lord look on you and judge you! You have made us obnoxious to Pharaoh and his officials and have put a sword in their hand to kill us”(Ex 5:21). Moses was befuddled and cried out to God.  “Why, Lord, why have you brought trouble on this people? Is this why you sent me? Ever since I went to Pharaoh to speak in your name, he has brought trouble on this people, and you have not rescued your people at all”(Ex 5:22-23).

“Why, Lord, why?  You haven’t done what You said, and this makes no sense.”  It’s an honest prayer—and not a bad one, but even as we say it, we should be sure the answer lies in the name of the God to whom we call.   

“Lord.” There is One who is above us and over us, whose ways are not ours to decide and determine, and who sometimes orchestrates circumstances that don’t make much sense from our side.  But when all we can see is suffering and sorrow, we must remember that the One who is above us and over us is also in us and for us, and the God who cares about the lifespan of simple sparrows is without doubt concerned about His own children. “Don’t be afraid.  You are worth more than many sparrows”(Matt 10:31).  

As we read the Exodus story, we want to say to the dejected slaves, “Don’t despair!  Deliverance is coming!  Just wait until the next chapter!” and we would do well to take that same advice. “For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all”(2 Cor 4:17).  We are not disposable pawns in an arbitrary celestial chess match being moved and removed with little calculation, but we are dear and precious children, redeemed from the worst form of slavery at the highest possible price and now being prepared for a glorious eternity. Our God will do all He has said, but the “hows” and “when” are up to Him to tell and us to trust.  

So when life goes from bad to worse for reasons you just can’t figure out, know that no matter what happens here, the wonderful is coming.  Keep waiting.  Keep trusting.  Keep calling out to the One who hears and is here.  

And remember that He is the Lord.