The Passover Lamb: Blood That Saves | Advent Day 9

The night began with death and ended with departure. Every household in Egypt waited. The Hebrew slaves huddled inside their homes, dressed for travel, sandals on their feet, staffs in their hands. Their Egyptian neighbors slept, unaware of what was passing through their land. Then the screaming began. In palace and hovel, from Pharaoh's throne room to the prisoner's dungeon, firstborn sons stopped breathing. The same death visited every household not marked by blood. By morning, Egypt's power lay shattered. The nation that defied YHWH wept for its children. But in Goshen, the Hebrew settlement, silence reigned. Death passed over. The blood spoke louder than Egypt's gods. David Roberts painted the aftermath in 1830. The Scottish artist had traveled extensively in Egypt, sketching pyramids and temples. His composition stretches horizontally as columns of people move between ancient monuments. Perhaps two million people streaming toward the rising sun, leaving bondage for freedom. Roberts captured a nation being born. But before the departure came the lamb. God gave precise instructions. Each household was to select a lamb on the tenth day of the month and keep it until the fourteenth. Four days the family would live with this animal. Children would name it. They would feed it and watch it. Then at twilight on the appointed day, the household would kill it. The lamb required specific characteristics. Without blemish. Male. A year old. No defect could mark it. The lamb that died for the family had to be perfect. The blood had to be applied. Taking hyssop branches, the Israelites struck the doorposts on each side and the lintel above. Three points of application formed a pattern later generations would recognize. When connected, the bloody marks outlined a cross. The doorframe became an altar. Notice where the blood protected. The Israelites remained inside the house. They could not see the blood from where they stood. It faced outward, toward the street, toward the passing destroyer. "When I see the blood," God said, "I will pass over you." The blood spoke to heaven, not to earth. This is substitution. The lamb died so the firstborn would not. Blood was required, but not the blood of the protected. Another died in their place. The principle runs through Scripture like a scarlet thread. God declared this night a new beginning. "This month shall be for you the beginning of months." The calendar reset. Israel's year would begin with remembering liberation. Time itself reorganized around this deliverance. Do you see the parallels multiplying beyond coincidence? John the Baptist saw Jesus approaching and declared, "Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world." The Passover lamb had taken human form. The Last Supper occurred during Passover. Jesus gathered His disciples to observe the ancient meal, then transformed its meaning. Taking bread: "This is my body." Taking wine: "This is my blood of the covenant, poured out for many." The memorial of Egypt became the memorial of Calvary. The timing aligns with precision. Jesus died on Passover afternoon. The Gospel of John records that He breathed His last around 3 PM. This was the exact hour when priests began slaughtering Passover lambs in the Temple. Thousands of lambs bled in the Temple courts while the Lamb of God bled on Golgotha. When soldiers came to break the legs of the crucified, they found Jesus already dead. They did not break His legs. John connects this to Passover law. Not a bone of the lamb was to be broken. Even in death, Jesus fulfilled the pattern. Hyssop appears at both moments. The Israelites used hyssop branches to apply blood to doorposts. At the cross, soldiers lifted a sponge of vinegar on a hyssop branch to Jesus' lips. The humble plant that marked deliverance in Egypt appeared again where ultimate deliverance was accomplished. Paul states the connection directly: "Christ, our Passover lamb, has been sacrificed." The ancient festival had found its fulfillment. The shadow had given way to substance. The Exodus became the paradigm for all salvation. God hears the cry of the oppressed. God raises up a deliverer. God judges the oppressors. God leads His people through water to freedom. Every subsequent act of redemption echoes this pattern. This is why Christmas matters. The child in the manger was the Lamb before time began. Revelation describes Christ as "the Lamb who was slain from the creation of the world." The cross was not an afterthought. The blood was always the plan. Bethlehem moved toward Jerusalem. The manger pointed toward Golgotha. The Israelites had to enter the house and trust the mark. They could not see what protected them. They had only the word of God that blood would suffice. Faith meant staying inside when death walked the streets. Faith still means sheltering under what you cannot see. When God sees the blood, He passes over. The verdict has already fallen. It fell on another. The blood speaks for you. Not your performance. Not your record. Not your effort. The Lamb died in your place. The doorframe of your life bears a mark you did not paint. Death passes over because another died. You do not need to earn this protection. You need to trust it. Stay inside the house. Remain under the covering. Stop running into the street to prove yourself. The blood is enough. It was enough in Egypt. It is enough now. This Advent, rest in finished work. The sacrifice happened. The price was paid. Christ your Passover has been slain. Stop performing and start trusting. The Lamb's blood marks your life. Death cannot touch what God has covered. Tomorrow we meet Ruth, the Moabite woman who chose Israel's God and entered the Messiah's lineage. The blood that covered Israel would eventually cover the nations. The Lamb slain for one people would become the Lamb for all peoples.