Wednesday, October 25, 2023

The Exodus

Reading

Exodus 12
 

Previously on “Exodus” [WATCH VIDEO]

God’s people are under ruthless oppression:
  • Moses’ has brought the promise of deliverance to the Hebrew elders; at first, they believe Moses and worship the Lord who has heard their cry.
  • After Moses first confronts Pharaoh, the oppression gets worse, and the Hebrews make clear to Moses they are not impressed.
  • Encouraged by God, Moses and Aaron press on faithfully, forewarning Pharaoh about each plague coming to Egypt.
  • Plague after plague leaves Pharaoh remaining stubborn, and God reinforces his stubbornness.
In this week’s thrilling instalment – 

Deliverance!

Now, Pharaoh may have remained unmoved despite all that was happening to his nation but others have noticed what’s going on.
 
When Moses announces the 8th plague (locusts), Pharaoh’s officials tell him, for goodness’ sake let them go! Can’t you see Egypt is ruined? Pharaoh tries to retain control with a compromise, but it’s less than God requires – and so the locusts arrive.

And the 9th plague (darkness) also fails to convince Pharaoh.
Somewhere along the way, the penny must have dropped for the Hebrews.  They would have seen what was going on in Egypt but, miraculously, not where they were living; their animals didn’t die; they didn’t get hail; the darkness came nowhere near them.
By the time we get to the final plague, the people must have been ready to listen to Moses again.  They’d begun to believe they really were leaving.
And so we come to the final plague.  Back in chapter 4, where God has been explaining to Moses all that was going to happen, he finished with:

22... say to Pharaoh, “This is what the Lord says: Israel is my firstborn son, 23and I told you, ‘Let my son go, so that he may worship me.’ But you refused to let him go; so I will kill your firstborn son.” ’
 
In the cultures of the day, the firstborn son was special and precious.  He was the sign of strength, the continuation of the family line.  He enjoyed a highly privileged position within the family.  

That’s how it was in Egypt, so Pharaoh should have understood from what Moses told him how important Israel was to God.  But, despite all he’d seen, he hadn’t understood that God was able to do what he said – after all, it’s not so bad: nobody died!

The final, horrendous judgement against Egypt is already determined: the death of the firstborn sons from the highest in the land to the lowest, and even among the livestock.

From our modern perspective, this seems incredibly harsh.

But think about events that happened not so very long ago, a time when, once again, the Jews were in jeopardy. 

The Nazis tried to eliminate them from Europe, rounding them up first into ghettos, then transporting them to concentration camps. There, if they were fit enough, they were worked to death, or, if they weren’t able to work through age or illness or just being a nursing mother and child, they were exterminated without a second thought.  

The idea of hunting down and wiping out the Nazis seemed then like just retribution.

The sins of Egypt were not much better.
  •  A previous Pharaoh had ordered the extermination of all Hebrew boys – as far as we know, that edict was ever rescinded.
  • The Hebrews were enslaved and put to harsh labour; we’re told in chapter one that ‘the Egyptians worked them ruthlessly’, since before Moses was born, and Moses is now 80.
We’ve been hearing how God is not like us; he’s holy, altogether different.  He is also always totally just.  He would never do anything unjust.

From God’s perspective, the just penalty for sin is death.  
 
He could have justly wiped Egypt from the face of the earth – but, in this final plague, God limited his judgement.

Actually, the Hebrews are sinful too: we’ll see as their story unfolds that, like Pharaoh they’re, stubborn – they’re disobedient, rebellious, unbelieving.

Can a just God punish the sins of Egypt and ignore the sins of the Hebrews?  

God provides a just way to protect his people from the judgement of the final plague.  God gives the people instructions for this key phase of their deliverance from Egypt.

It’s the month of Aviv, in the springtime.  On the 10th of Aviv, each household is to select a year old lamb or kid, a male, more costly than the female, one without defect, perfect, the best.  They’re told, take care of it for 4 days.  It’s precious: it will be food for the journey, and a sacrifice in the place of their firstborn sons.

They’re to slaughter the lamb at twilight on the 14th of Aviv, to roast it whole and eat as much as they possibly can.  And because it’s a sacrifice, wholly given over to God, they’re to burn anything they’re unable to finish.

And they’re told, if your neighbour’s household is too small to cope with a whole lamb, invite them over to share in yours.

They’re to take some of the lamb’s blood and put it on the door frame as a sign to the Lord who said, “When I see the blood I will pass over you.  No destructive plague will touch you when I strike Egypt.”
 
The lifeblood of sacrificial lamb stands in place of the lifeblood of the firstborn son.

And they’re told to eat in haste and to be dressed for the journey, ready to leave in a hurry.  
In springtime in Egypt, the sun sets at about 6pm.

Let’s imagine the scene at a Hebrew house near to where the Egyptians live. The sun sinks quickly below the horizon and in the twilight the men slaughter the lamb, do whatever preparation is necessary, then take it indoors for roasting.

The whole household, and perhaps their neighbours, crowd into the house.  They’ve been told to stay inside the house.

The adults are quiet, anxious, exchanging glances and nervous smiles. They’re all on edge as they wait while the lamb cooks, and fat starts to drip and flare up on the fire.

The children are up past their bedtimes. The little ones pick up on the tension in the air.  They’re over-tired, whingey and irritable. The older kids get bored and argumentative.  One of them looks at the roasting lamb and says, ‘I don’t like meat, I want beans.’  They haven’t really grasped what’s going on.
 
But not the firstborn son.  He tugs on his dad’s sleeve.  ‘Dad? Did you do what Moses said you had to do with the blood?’

‘Of course I did, son.  You’re my precious boy.’
 
The boy looks unconvinced, so dad picks up an oil lamp, takes him by the hand and leads him to the door.  He opens the door and, being very careful to stay inside, he says, ‘There’s the blood, on the lintel, on the side-posts.  That will keep you safe.  God said so.’
 
The boy breathes a huge sigh of relief.
 
Apparently, it takes about five hours to roast a whole lamb, so by the time the meal’s cooked, it’s already approaching Midnight.  The lamb is torn apart and handed around to everyone, with bitter herbs and bread without yeast.  The hosts make sure everyone gets enough.
 
At this point, they’ve obeyed all that God told them to do.  All they can do now is wait, and trust.
Perhaps even while they’re still eating, someone hears a noise, a scream.  They look out the window, and in the Egyptian homes nearby, lamps are being lit.  The sound of wailing, devastated parents grows louder, and louder, and louder.
 
God’s judgement has fallen, and there’s someone dead in every Egyptian house, including the palace.  Finally, Pharaoh has learned the fear of the Lord:

31During the night Pharaoh summoned Moses and Aaron and said, ‘Up! Leave my people, you and the Israelites! Go, worship the Lord as you have requested. 32Take your flocks and herds, as you have said, and go. And also bless me.’

33The Egyptians urged the people to hurry and leave the country. ‘For otherwise,’ they said, ‘we will all die!’ 34So the people took their dough before the yeast was added, and carried it on their shoulders in kneading troughs wrapped in clothing. 35The Israelites did as Moses instructed and asked the Egyptians for articles of silver and gold and for clothing. 36The Lord had made the Egyptians favourably disposed towards the people, and they gave them what they asked for; so they plundered the Egyptians.

After 430 years, the Israelites escape bondage and leave Egypt laden with riches they didn’t earn.
We’re told there were 600K men, plus women and children, plus many other people.  If you think it through, you can easily work the numbers up to something well in excess of 1.5m people on the move.  With all their livestock.  Imagine that scene.

Egypt is left devastated.  On top of everything, they have no-one to do all the work!

Memorial

For the Hebrews however, this is a complete reset, a new beginning, a time worth remembering.  They’ve been set free!

Memory is a funny thing.  For some reason it can be easy to remember the things we want to forget and easy to forget the things we ought to remember.

I won’t ask for a show of hands, but I wonder how many men in here have ever forgotten their wedding anniversary?  It doesn’t go down well, does it?  You’ll only do it once!

God wants his people to remember their deliverance from slavery.  Not a deliverance that they achieved but a deliverance that God provided for them with his outstretched arm and mighty hand.  
This is never to be forgotten.

They’re given two ways to remember.  
  • All their firstborn belong to God and they are to be redeemed by the sacrifice of a lamb.  So this will be an ongoing reminder in family life.
  • They are to celebrate a feast every year on the anniversary of their liberation.
Twice God instructs Moses, and twice Moses instructs the people about the Festival of Unleavened Bread.  So, Jews reading Torah later in their history get told four times to celebrate the Passover.  
It’s really important they remember that their very existence as a people is entirely down to God’s intervention and to his glory.

Unleavened bread is basically bread made without yeast.  At the time of the exodus, the people had prepared dough for their bread but hadn’t had the time to mix the yeast in.  

In preparing for the memorial feast the people are to make sure there’s no leaven in the house.  Later, leaven came to represent sin or evil, so clearing out the leaven becomes an act of purification.

There were times of neglect at various stages in their subsequent history when it seems that nothing God had commanded was observed, and then there were times of recovery when Passover was celebrated again.

A Loud Echo

The Exodus of long ago prefigures another, even greater rescue provided by God.  1400 years or so later, Passover is being celebrated annually, and Jesus is walking the earth.

There’s a greater tyrant abroad in the world than Pharaoh, a more insidious enslavement than Egypt.
By nature, we walk right into the trap.  Isaiah tells us,

We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way. (Is. 53:6)
All the problems in the world today stem from that.  We turn our backs on God.  We turn our backs on our neighbour.  We look out for number one.  

Sin gets a grip and imprisons us under the tyranny of Satan who lurks in the shadows, tempting, corrupting, destroying.  And we don’t even realise we’re in captivity.  

We think we’re having a good time!  Unless we’re on the receiving end of other people’s bad behaviour.  

We can’t get ourselves out of the mess, and it’s our own fault we’re in it.  And the just penalty for sin is still death!

John the Baptist said of Jesus, ‘Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.’
This time, the rescue is not only for the Israelites – it’s available to all the people in the world.
Jesus celebrated his final Passover with his disciples.  He took bread and wine and said, ‘This is my body, this is my blood… Do this in remembrance of me.’

The disciples didn’t understand what he meant at the time.  But Jesus is the Passover Lamb provided by God. He’s the costly, unblemished, one and only Son; God’s true ‘firstborn’.

He was about to be crucified.  He became the perfect, once-for-all sacrifice that atones for the sins of the world, for any who recognise their desperate need and put their trust in him.

We’re told that many others left Egypt with the Hebrews, probably other slaves, maybe some Egyptians.  They were given the opportunity to share in the blessings and celebrations of God’s people.
For them, the cost was to yield themselves to the covenant God had made with his people, surrendering their old ways.

If they did that, they were accepted as though they were native-born Hebrews.

As a result of what Jesus did, we can be adopted by God and enjoy the full blessing of his family.  For us, the cost is to abandon our own, sinful ways and to draw near to God, relying entirely on the sacrifice made by Jesus on our behalf.

As the blood of the first Passover lamb stained the wooden door frame, so the blood of Jesus stained the wooden cross.  

We deserve death; he died in our place. 

The lifeblood of God’s one and only Son was offered in place of ours.

That was the enormous cost of our freedom.

2000 years later, as we share in communion, we remember his offering for us. Paul writes to the Colossian church, that

Col 1:13 – God ‘has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.
 
The power of sin broken forever – ‘sin shall no longer be your master, because you are not under law, but under grace’. (Romans 6:14)

The penalty of sin paid in full – ‘there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus’ (Romans 8:1); every shred of wrath fell on Jesus: as Isaiah said, ‘… the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all.’

Invitation

Has anything this morning resonated with someone here?  Have you recognised that you’re in a kind of captivity and you can’t get out of it?

Jesus is the Saviour. He can lead you out of the darkness, into the kingdom of light.  He can set you free.  He can forgive every sin you’ve ever committed.

That doesn’t mean that life will be easy, that there’ll be no struggles or difficulties.  But you will have hope, God will be with you, and you’ll have the support of God’s family along the way.