Passover Lamb

It was twilight.

Moses took a deep breath and slaughtered the lamb and watched the blood go into the jar that laid under it.  Blood.  The sign of life.  Moses recalled the stories Jethro had told about when God had made a covenant with Noah saying that he may not eat the meat of an animal that still had blood in it, for blood was a sign of life.

Life was something that would be taken that night.  God had told Moses that Death would visit them and would kill every firstborn… unless…  Unless the blood of a lamb would be put above the door and on the sides and top of the doorframes.  Then Death would pass over them.  There would be a great wailing throughout Egypt.  This was the tenth plague.  A plague brought on by the Pharaoh’s stubbornness, pride, and hard heart.

God had promised life, too.  A new life.  After Death’s visit, God promised freedom from the Egyptians.  Freedom from slavery.  Freedom from pain, exhaustion, suppression, and freedom from unimaginable amount of work.  Once Death took the firstborn, new life and freedom was promised after 400 long years of slavery.

Moses, his family, and a few neighbors prepared for the meal.  They tucked their cloaks into their belts, kept sandals on their feet, and kept staffs in their hands.  They ate the lamb in haste that had been roasted over the fire with bitter herbs and the bread that had been made without yeast.

In the middle of the night, Moses was summoned to the Pharaoh.  Standing over his dead son, Pharaoh gave this command to Moses, “Up!  Leave my people, you and the Israelite.  Go, worship the Lord as you requested.  Take your flocks and herds as you said and go.  And also bless me.”

With that Moses went and proclaimed the news to the Israelites, and they left!

Years passed.  Centuries passed.  God continued to meet with His people and every year they celebrated a Passover Meal as a remembrance of the deliverance God had brought to His people.

God became silent and remained silent for 400 years.  Then a cry of a baby born in Bethlehem broke that silence.  The baby’s name was Jesus.  He grew from baby to toddler, to young child, to a young man and into manhood.  He ministered for three years.  He called 12 disciples to follow him more closely than the others.

It was Passover.

Perhaps a typical Passover Meal.  They had celebrated this special remembrance with Jesus since they had started following Him.

Jesus knelt down and became a servant, the lowliest of them all.  He began to wash their feet.  He removed the dirt and dust from the soles of their feet.  It was strange…

This Master.

This Rabbi.

This Son of God.

This Son of Man.

Washing feet…?

Jesus and the 12 disciples reclined at the table.  They feasted on the lamb.  They remembered the Passover.  The day Moses lead the Israelites into freedom by the blood of lamb that was put on the top and sides of the door.

Blood meant life.

Then the One called the Bread of Life lifted up the bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to His disciples, saying, “Take it; this is my body.”

Then he took the cup, gave thanks and offered it to them, and they all drank from it.  “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many,” he said to them.  “I tell you the truth, I will not drink again of the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it anew in the kingdom of God.”

They sang as they continued to remember the Passover, the freedom that the Israelites were given, and the relief of suppression.

Then they journeyed to the Garden of Gethsemane.

All journeyed, but one.

For Judas had already left the group.

The next day John saw Jesus coming toward him and said, “Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!”  

-John 1:29-

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