By J.R. Miller
Exodus 12
The time had come for the departure of the children of Israel from Egypt. The struggle with Pharaoh had been long and bitter. He had resisted and refused to let the people go. Now the time had come when his resistance would break down. When in every house the firstborn would be dead, in the palace as well as in the laborer's hut--the king would hold out no longer, would even demand that they leave his land at once.
The 'Passover' was instituted as a memorial of deliverance form Egyptian bondage. It would be their last supper in Egypt, and was to be observed annually ever after, to keep in mind the great deliverance. The leaving of Egypt, was a new beginning for the Israelites. They were to call this date, their New Year. They were to reckon time thereafter, from the Passover.
In like manner the Christian world counts time from the birth of Christ. We write our dates Anno Domini--"in the year of our Lord". There were a great many hundreds of years before the beginning of the Christian era. The world is very much more than nineteen hundred and eight years old--but we count only the years of our Lord.
In personal life the same is true--we begin to live, only when we become Christians. What went before, does not count. The real birthday of the Christian, is the day of his new birth, the day he was saved. No one truly begins to live, until the chains of his sin bondage are broken--and he goes out free. All the time before he leaves Egypt--is lost time!
An eighty year old man, when asked his age--replied that he was just six months old. He said that though he had lived more than eighty years in this world--he had been a Christian and had really lived, only six months. All his other years had been time thrown away! No other anniversary should be kept so sacredly, with so much joy, as the anniversary of one's conversion!
The arrangements for the Passover were very definitely prescribed. Each family must take a lamb for itself; one household could not take it for another. Just so, one can take Christ for another. We have to carry our own sins to God. It must be by our own faith that we receive forgiveness. All true religion is personal. No one, not even a saintly mother, can believe for us, do our duty for us, or carry our load. "Each one must bear his own burden." Every family must have its own lamb. No one could come under the protection of some good neighbor's faith. Every home makes its own home-life. If it is happy, the happiness must be made within its own doors. If it is loving and sweet, the love must be in the hearts and lives of the inhabitants. Every home must have Christ for itself.
We should not overlook this lesson. A man said, "Oh, my wife is religious for us both." But if a man depends upon such vicarious religion as this, he will find that his wife will have to go to heaven for them both.
There is a pleasant thought here also about family life, "a lamb for a household." The family is one. Parents and children stood that night about the table and were sheltered behind the same blood. Every family should be one in Christ with loving fellowship, all the members trusting in the same Savior and gathering beneath the shadow of the one Cross.
The lamb chosen should be without blemish. It would not do if it were imperfect. The people were not to bring in a lame, crippled, or blind lamb. God wants the best. We should always bring to Him the best we have. We should give Him our heart when it is warm, tender, and unstained--not waiting until it has grown cold in the service of the world. We should give Him our hands when they are skillful and strong for work--not waiting until they are cramped, stiff, and unfit for beautiful service. We should give Him our feet when they are swift and ready to run upon His errands--not waiting until they have become crippled with age. We should give Him our lips when the eloquence and the song are still in them--and not wait until our voice is broken and has no music in it.
Do we never bring to God things that are blemished, keeping the best for ourselves--and laying on His altar things that we not longer prize? Do we never give to Christ only the poor scraps--after we have served ourselves with the best?
Dr. Wilton Merle Smith tells of buying a ring for his wife. He found one which was very beautiful, with a stone that was rare and rich. The salesman then showed him another ring almost identical with the first, and said, "I can sell you this one for just half the price of the other." The rings were so alike that none but an expert could tell the difference. Dr. Smith asked why the second ring was offered for so much less, and learned that there was a minute and almost imperceptible flaw in the stone which only an expert could detect. "No," he said, "I do not want that. Would I present to the woman I love--a flawed stone?"
Should we offer to Christ--a flawed offering, a blemished life, an imperfect service?
The lamb was to be killed, and the blood put upon the posts of the door. The lamb died in place of the firstborn. That night in Egypt the firstborn of every family would die at midnight. The firstborn of the Hebrews would be saved--but only if redeemed, a lamb dying in its place.
It is said that on the roof of a little church in Germany, stands the stone figure of a lamb which has an interesting history. When some workmen were engaged on the building, many years ago, one of them fell to the ground. His companions hastened down, expecting to find him crushed to death. They were amazed, however, to see him unhurt. A lamb was grazing just where the workman came down, and falling upon it, he crushed the little creature to death, while he himself escaped injury. He was so grateful, that he had an image of the lamb cut in marble, and placed upon the building as a memorial of his deliverance. The lamb saved his life--by dying in his place! Each one of the firstborn sons of Israel was living the morning after the Passover, because a lamb had died in his place! Every one who is saved can point to the Lamb of God and say, "I am saved because Jesus died in my stead!"
It was not enough to kill the lamb--if they had done this and nothing more--the people would not have been saved from the death-angel. The blood must be put upon the doorposts. The angel would look for this mark on each house, and if he did not see it--he would not pass over that house. It is not enough that Jesus, the Lamb of God, died for us on the cross. This He did, and the offer of salvation through His redemption is made to everyone. But we must make personal application of His redemption to ourselves, by having His blood sprinkled upon us. This we do by the personal receiving of Christ as our Savior. This is to each one of us, the vital point in the whole matter--not that the blood has been shed--but that it is found upon us. Paul speaks of the possibility of making the Cross of Christ of no effect. This we would do, if after Christ has suffered, we reject His redemption. Only the personal receiving of of Christ makes us safe.
There is something else here. The Hebrews were not only to put the blood upon the doorposts--but the family were then to gather inside the house and stay there until God should call them out. If any of them were found outside--they would not be protected by the blood. "None of you shall go out of the door of his house until the morning." Just so, we must take refuge behind Christ's Cross, and we must abide there, staying in the shelter. It will not do for us to run out whenever we please. We must live a life of continual faith in Christ, trusting constantly in His blood for our redemption, abiding in Him and yielding to Him unbroken obedience.
The second part of the duty and blessing of that night--was the eating of the lamb. While the plague was sweeping over the land of Egypt--the household in every Hebrew home was gathered about the table, eating the midnight meal. While Christ by His blood shelters His people from the penalty of sin--He also provides a feast for them. This suggests many a beautiful thought about the Christian life.
On the dark night of the betrayal, while the enemies of Jesus were preparing for His arrest and crucifixion, He and His disciples were sitting in the upper room, enjoying a feast of love together. Christ is always bread for our needs--as well as refuge from our sin. A feast means joy, gladness--all Christian life should be full of song and praise. Even in sorrow--we may have songs to sing.
A Christian life is not merely protection from penalty, freedom from condemnation, a life sheltered from the storm; it is a life of joy, of peace, of love, of song. We are not only forgiven criminals--we are children of God, we have fellowship with God, all things are ours! We are not exempt from sorrow--but in our sorrow we have comfort. We have trials and afflictions--but in all of them there is blessing for us. Then the road, however hard and rough it may be, leads to our blissful eternal home!
The blood on the doorposts was to be a mark of safety. "When I see the blood, I will pass over." It was very important, therefore, that the blood should be upon the doorposts in plain sight. There was no other safety. It would not be sufficient for a man to say, "I belong to the people of Israel, and God intends only to slay Egyptians. There is no need of my troubling myself to put blood on my doorposts. My home will be safe. My firstborn will not be harmed." Would this man's house have been passed over by the destroying angel? No! God had appointed a way of deliverance, and if any of His people had refused to accept that way, thinking that some other way would do as well, or that they were safe without any mark--they would have put themselves outside the protecting walls of the covenant!
Men may say of Christ's blood now: "I will trust myself in God's hands, for He is merciful; He is my Father. But I will not look to Christ's blood for salvation. I can see no need for that." He who would say this, rejects God's way of salvation; and there is no salvation in any way--but that which He has appointed, through Jesus Christ. We cannot say we trust in God's mercy--while we reject His Son. Christ is the mercy of God to the world.
The angel looked that night for the blood, and only the houses marked by it would he pass over. No matter how good the people inside were, if they had disregarded God's appointment and had taken some way of their own--there would have been death within their home at midnight! The blood must be on the doorposts--and the people must put it there with their own hands! It is so now--God looks for Christ's blood. Where that mark is found--He gives protection and blessing. Where Christ's blood is lacking--there is nothing to shelter from eternal wrath!
The Passover was to be a perpetual memorial. The people were never to forget the deliverance of that night. Lest they might forget it, the Passover feast always reminded them that they had once been in bondage--and that they had been delivered by great power. It also reminded them that they were a redeemed people, since their firstborn were saved from death that night--by the dying of the paschal lamb in their place.
The Lord's Supper is a like memorial to us. It tells that once we were in sin's bondage, that now we are free, and that our redemption cost the blood of the Lamb of God!
