Exodus 12:1-13, 29-32
The Lord said to Moses and Aaron in the land of Egypt, “This month shall be for you the beginning of months. It shall be the first month of the year for you. Tell all the congregation of Israel that on the tenth day of this month every man shall take a lamb according to their fathers' houses, a lamb for a household. And if the household is too small for a lamb, then he and his nearest neighbor shall take according to the number of persons; according to what each can eat you shall make your count for the lamb. Your lamb shall be without blemish, a male a year old. You may take it from the sheep or from the goats, and you shall keep it until the fourteenth day of this month, when the whole assembly of the congregation of Israel shall kill their lambs at twilight.
“Then they shall take some of the blood and put it on the two doorposts and the lintel of the houses in which they eat it. They shall eat the flesh that night, roasted on the fire; with unleavened bread and bitter herbs they shall eat it. Do not eat any of it raw or boiled in water, but roasted, its head with its legs and its inner parts. And you shall let none of it remain until the morning; anything that remains until the morning you shall burn. In this manner you shall eat it: with your belt fastened, your sandals on your feet, and your staff in your hand. And you shall eat it in haste. It is the Lord's Passover. For I will pass through the land of Egypt that night, and I will strike all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, both man and beast; and on all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgments: I am the Lord. The blood shall be a sign for you, on the houses where you are. And when I see the blood, I will pass over you, and no plague will befall you to destroy you, when I strike the land of Egypt ….
…. At midnight the Lord struck down all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, from the firstborn of Pharaoh who sat on his throne to the firstborn of the captive who was in the dungeon, and all the firstborn of the livestock. And Pharaoh rose up in the night, he and all his servants and all the Egyptians. And there was a great cry in Egypt, for there was not a house where someone was not dead. Then he summoned Moses and Aaron by night and said, “Up, go out from among my people, both you and the people of Israel; and go, serve the Lord, as you have said. Take your flocks and your herds, as you have said, and be gone, and bless me also!”
Times either side of death are busy times. Before a death there is haste to express final words and make final arrangements. Family members hurry from whatever distance to see a loved one for the last time. Word arrives from an attending physician that the last hours have come. Under those circumstances loved ones rouse themselves even in the night to hasten to the bedside.
The time following a death is also a busy time. Contact with extended family, consultation with a funeral director, travel plans are worked out, food is brought in. There is a flurry of activity which belies the sorrow but helps distract and subdue the feelings of emptiness as neighbors or friends stop by for a word of condolence.
Between these two occupations is the suspension of life like the fleeting pause of a pendulum that interrupts those busy pursuits before and after — and all is still. It takes but a moment to draw a last breath, but something enormously profound occurs in that noiseless instant. If for only a moment, everything hangs in critical stillness for here indeed roads diverge. The child of God in Christ embarks for home, never again to know a loss or sorrow, never again to experience a tear or failing — never, never again to know the bitter taste of sin. In the safe-keeping of Christ is his tranquility. The momentous change is in the twinkling of an eye.
Dreadful, however, comes that mute moment for anyone not in Christ. For them the severance is no less acute, but it is motionlessness like the suspended instant between a near simultaneous lightning flash and the roar of thunder. The opportunity to repent, to receive the favors of a gracious God long held out to them, to see the light, to be released from the fear of death departs in one ephemeral and solitary tick of time.
The Passover is that moment.
Previous to this night God fills his Hebrew people with a surge of occupations; selection of a lamb without blemish for the household, alliance with neighbors if their family circle is too small, readiness of the lamb from either the sheep or goats, denoting the calendar and arranging the assembly. Then, near the very last, the slaughter, the application of blood to the doorposts, the hasty meal of expressly prescribed elements, the fire for that which remains, the dress for a journey.
Egypt too is busy with its own occupations. Pharaoh sits upon his throne. Some undoubtedly are overseeing livestock, others guarding dungeons, or most simply continuing the daily pursuit they know. And then the Lord passed through the land. All occupations cease.
Israel waits and watches in vigil. Egypt kills time, precious time. The dividing moment, the moment of death comes.
For God’s people that moment in the night is a death — a death of their slavery, the end of their shame and sorrows, the death of their disgrace and humiliation. One moment they are captive Israel, crushed and coerced by an implacable master. But under the blood of the sacrifice the next moment they are free, embarking for the land of eternal promise and prosperity.
For Egypt, however, the same moment strikes with blinding ferocity. The firstborn, the best and brightest, the very future of Egypt is lost forever as when a pyre is doused with sand and stone. With no discrimination of either man, beast or gods, the ending and extremity of death envelop all that is unshielded by the blood of the lamb. The chord is broken, the golden bowl shattered, and there is not even a moment for sympathy before Egypt takes up its new occupation, the enterprise of grief and wailing.
Moses and the people are also busy. Their hour of departure has come. And what is their occupation? How incongruous that it should be articulated by the final statement of Pharaoh. Even he cannot escape acknowledgement of the meaning of Israel’s deliverance, “Up,” he says, “go out from among my people … go, serve the Lord.”
Israel would indeed go, worshiping and rejoicing … as we do who are covered by the Blood of the Lamb of God, Jesus Christ, who has taken away the sin of the world. His holy, precious, paschal blood – Jesus' life blood was shed for us to grace our waiting on that hour, to sanctify our final flight from this vale of tears, and to dress us for the joyful occupations of praising our God and the Lamb unto ages of ages.
