Exodus 12: Passover

I just finished snuggling Dutch into bed.  I turned off his little ocean lamp, pulled his down comforter up under his chin, and tucked it all the way around his little body.  I kissed his perfect smooth cheeks and pried his arms from around my neck since he wouldn’t let me go.  He kept leaning up and kissing my cheeks.

“Mommy, I love you so much.  I just can’t stop kissing you I love you so much.”

Heart. Melting.

I love that boy.  My firstborn son.  Heidi has won my heart in her own million unique ways. But Dutch is my firstborn and always will be.

So when I read Exodus 12, I cannot help but shudder.

After nine horrendous plagues, and after nine stubborn refusals to let Israel go, the LORD strikes Egypt with the final and most horrific of all plagues: The death of the firstborn.

Now I admit, when I think of Passover, I think of the blood on the doorposts, the unleavened bread, and of Jesus being the final fulfillment in Scripture.

But often I don’t stop long enough to consider how horrific this scene really is. Verse 29 says,

“At midnight the LORD struck down all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, from the firstborn of Pharoah who sat on his throne to the firstborn of the captive who was in the dungeon … and there was a great cry in Egypt, for there was  not a house where someone was not dead.“

This is a massacre.  There was not a house untouched by this finger of death. And not adults, not elderly–but children.   Firstborn children. Firstborn children just like the little blue-eyed puppy-breath 4-year-old I tucked into bed just now.  Millions of them.  In the middle of the night.

We cannot understand how great this deliverance is until we understand how horrific the alternative.

So in the midst of this blackest night of death, in the midst of the screaming and wailing and weeping of the Egyptians, one by one finding their dead children, God says to his people, “Up, Go.”  In awe and fear they tuck their kneading bowls in their garments and rush silently through the night.  Out of captivity.  Out of Egypt.  They are freed.

We live, for the most part, in a world that does not mention the fear of God. I rarely talk about hell.  I hardly ever talk to people about the wrath of God. And with good reason, I suppose.  Christ our Passover Lamb (1 Corinthians 5:7) was slaughtered, marks us as His, and delivers us from condemnation.  But if we don’t understand what happened that Passover night, at midnight–the horrific suffering and death–we won’t understand how great is our deliverance, our salvation.  And as horrible as that was, we have been saved from something so much more horrific than the death of a firstborn child. We have been saved from eternal suffering and separation from God.

As horrendous as it is, we must remember hell. Please hear my heart, I hate typing those words. I have tears streaming down my cheeks as I write those words. I do not write them lightly.  But our evangelism, our sharing the good news of the gospel, will suffer if we do not remember from what we have been saved. Our love will suffer. Our grace will suffer. Our witness will suffer. God’s Kingdom will suffer.  If for a split second I start to think that God sure is lucky to have me, I need to consider for a brief moment how holy is my God and how deserved my condemnation. How horrific my destiny would be had he not shed His blood, smeared it on the lentil of my life, and whispered, “Up. Go.”  Out of captivity. Freed.  This is a cure for complaining. For complacency. For a critical heart toward others.

Friends, for those of us who have put our faith in Christ, we have been gloriously passed over. We have reason to be happy. Every. Single. Day.  We have reason to be cheerful. We have reason to give to others.  The Israelites left Egypt with nothing but their kneading bowls, and they were rich indeed!  We have been given hope, life, love, and eternal life.

Moses sang this in response, words fitting for us today. Let’s join him, amen?

“The LORD is my strength and my song, and has become my salvation; this is my God, and I will praise Him, my father’s God, and I will exalt Him” (Ex. 15:2).