The Passover

After nine devastating plagues had brought Egypt to its knees, Pharaoh’s heart remained hardened against the LORD. The land lay in ruins – its water contaminated, its crops destroyed, its livestock dead, its people covered with boils. Yet still the stubborn king refused to let God’s people go. Now the LORD would bring one final plague, so terrible that it would break Pharaoh’s will forever and set the stage for the greatest rescue in human history.

The Final Warning

Moses stood before Pharaoh one last time in the magnificent throne room that had once seemed so powerful and intimidating. But now, after witnessing nine miraculous plagues, the palace felt different. The golden decorations seemed tarnished, the elaborate murals of Egyptian gods appeared powerless, and Pharaoh himself looked haggard and defeated, though his pride still burned in his eyes.

“This is what the LORD says,” Moses declared with solemn authority. “About midnight tonight I will go throughout Egypt. Every firstborn in Egypt will die, from the firstborn son of Pharaoh, who sits on the throne, to the firstborn son of the female slave, who is at her hand mill, and all the firstborn of the cattle as well.”

The words echoed through the silent throne room like a death sentence. Pharaoh’s advisors, those who remained after the previous plagues, shifted nervously. They had learned to fear the God of the Hebrews, but their king’s heart remained unmoved.

Moses continued, his voice heavy with the weight of prophecy: “There will be loud wailing throughout Egypt – worse than there has ever been or ever will be again. But among the Israelites not a dog will bark at any person or animal. Then you will know that the LORD makes a distinction between Egypt and Israel.”

With those final words, Moses turned and left Pharaoh’s presence forever, just as he had promised. The die was cast, and the angel of death would soon pass through the land.

God’s Instructions to His People

But the LORD, in His mercy, would not bring this judgment without providing a way of salvation. He called Moses and Aaron to Him with specific instructions that would protect His people and establish a memorial for all generations.

“This month is to be for you the first month, the first month of your year,” the LORD declared, marking this as the beginning of a new calendar for the Hebrew people – the calendar of their freedom. “Tell the whole community of Israel that on the tenth day of this month each man is to take a lamb for his family, one for each household.”

The instructions were precise and sacred. Each family was to select a perfect lamb – a year-old male without defect or blemish. For four days, from the tenth to the fourteenth day of the month, they were to care for this lamb, ensuring it was completely healthy and without flaw.

“Take care of them until the fourteenth day of the month,” God continued, “when all the members of the community of Israel must slaughter the lambs at twilight.”

The Blood on the Doorposts

What happened next would become the most sacred ritual in Hebrew history. “Then they are to take some of the blood and put it on the sides and tops of the doorframes of the houses where they eat the lambs,” the LORD commanded.

This was no mere symbolic gesture. The blood of the innocent lamb, applied to the doorposts and lintel of each Hebrew home, would serve as a divine sign of protection. Each family head would take a branch of hyssop, dip it in the basin containing the lamb’s blood, and carefully paint the top and sides of their doorframe.

As the head of each household reached up to mark the lintel above the door, then bent down to mark each side post, he was creating a symbolic covering over his entire household. Under this blood-marked entrance, his family would find safety from the angel of death.

“The blood will be a sign for you on the houses where you are,” God explained. “And when I see the blood, I will pass over you. No destructive plague will touch you when I strike Egypt.”

The Passover Meal

But the protection was only part of God’s plan. The families were also to eat the lamb in a very specific way, and this meal would become the foundation of the most important festival in Jewish history.

“That same night they are to eat the meat roasted over the fire, along with bitter herbs, and bread made without yeast,” the LORD instructed. “Do not eat the meat raw or boiled in water, but roast it over a fire – with the head, legs and internal organs. Do not leave any of it till morning; if some is left till morning, you must burn it.”

The bitter herbs would remind them of their bitter slavery in Egypt. The unleavened bread, made without yeast, symbolized the haste of their departure – there would be no time to wait for bread to rise when God called them to leave.

Even the manner of eating was significant: “This is how you are to eat it: with your cloak tucked into your belt, your sandals on your feet and your staff in your hand. Eat it in haste; it is the LORD’s Passover.”

They were to eat dressed and ready for travel, for their deliverance would come swiftly when God moved.

The Night of Preparation

Throughout the land of Goshen, Hebrew families prepared for this sacred night. Fathers explained to their children what was happening, mothers prepared the unleavened bread and bitter herbs, and everyone waited with a mixture of anticipation and holy fear.

In the home of an elderly Hebrew named Caleb, three generations gathered around the simple wooden table. Caleb’s son Nathan had obtained a perfect lamb, which had been examined carefully by the family for four days. His grandson Benjamin, only eight years old, watched with wide eyes as his father prepared to sacrifice the animal.

“Grandfather,” Benjamin asked, “why must the lamb die? What has it done wrong?”

Caleb’s weathered hands trembled as he placed them gently on the child’s shoulders. “The lamb has done nothing wrong, my boy. It dies in our place. Its blood will protect us from the angel of death. This innocent lamb gives its life so that we might live.”

As twilight approached, Nathan led the lamb outside. With a swift, merciful stroke, he ended its life, catching its blood in a basin as God had commanded. The family worked together to prepare the meat for roasting while Nathan took the hyssop branch and carefully applied the blood to their doorframe.

As he reached up to mark the lintel, Nathan prayed silently, “LORD God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, we trust in Your promise. Protect our household this night.”

The Meal of Deliverance

As darkness fell across Egypt, Hebrew families throughout Goshen sat down to eat the Passover meal. The roasted lamb was tender and flavorful, seasoned with the salt of their tears and the hope of freedom. The bitter herbs reminded them of their suffering, while the unleavened bread spoke of the new life that awaited them.

In home after home, fathers recounted the story of God’s mighty works – how He had called Moses from the burning bush, how He had demonstrated His power through the plagues, and how He was now providing a way of escape from slavery.

“This day is to be a memorial for you,” the fathers told their children, repeating God’s own words. “You must celebrate it as a festival to the LORD – a lasting ordinance for the generations to come.”

Young Benjamin listened intently as his grandfather Caleb told the familiar stories of their ancestors – how Abraham had been called from Ur, how Jacob had wrestled with God, how Joseph had saved Egypt from famine, and how their people had grown from a small family into a great nation.

“But tonight,” Caleb said solemnly, “tonight we become truly free. Tonight the LORD makes us His own special people.”

Midnight: The Angel of Death

As midnight approached, an eerie stillness settled over Egypt. In the Hebrew homes, families huddled together, some praying quietly, others singing softly the ancient songs of their fathers. They could hear nothing, see nothing unusual, but they knew that the angel of death was passing through the land.

In the Egyptian homes, there was no protection. The destroyer moved silently from house to house, palace to hovel, taking the life of every firstborn – from Pharaoh’s own son and heir to the firstborn of the lowliest servant. Cattle, sheep, and goats also lost their firstborn in this supernatural judgment.

But wherever the angel saw blood on the doorposts, he passed over that house. Every Hebrew family that had obeyed God’s command found safety under the covering of the lamb’s blood. Not one Hebrew firstborn died that night.

The Cry Goes Up

When morning came, the reality of the plague became clear. Throughout Egypt, from the grandest palace to the humblest mud-brick house, families discovered their loss. The wailing that arose was unlike anything that had ever been heard in the land.

In Pharaoh’s palace, the king found his own beloved son, the crown prince of Egypt, dead in his bed. The boy who would have inherited the throne of the mightiest empire on earth had been struck down in a single night. Pharaoh’s grief-stricken cries echoed through the marble halls.

The sound of mourning rose from every Egyptian household. Parents held their dead children, unable to understand how this terrible thing had happened. The firstborn of their animals were also dead, adding economic devastation to their emotional trauma.

But in Goshen, Hebrew families emerged from their homes with joy and amazement. Their firstborn sons were alive and well, protected by the blood of the lamb. They had witnessed the greatest demonstration of God’s power to save and His faithfulness to His promises.

Pharaoh’s Surrender

That very night, while the wailing filled the air throughout Egypt, Pharaoh summoned Moses and Aaron. The proud king who had declared “I do not know the LORD” was now broken and desperate.

“Up!” he cried. “Leave my people, you and the Israelites! Go, worship the LORD as you have requested. Take your flocks and herds, as you have said, and go. And also bless me.”

For the first time, Pharaoh was asking for the blessing of the God he had defied. The loss of his own son had shattered his pride and opened his eyes to the reality of the LORD’s power.

The Egyptian people, terrified by what they had witnessed, urged the Israelites to hurry and leave the country. “For otherwise,” they said, “we will all die!” They loaded the Hebrews with articles of silver and gold and with clothing, giving them whatever they asked for in their eagerness to see them depart.

The Great Exodus Begins

The Israelites did as Moses instructed and asked the Egyptians for articles of silver and gold and for clothing. The LORD had made the Egyptians favorably disposed toward the people, and they gave them what they asked for; so they plundered the Egyptians.

That night, approximately 600,000 Hebrew men, plus women and children – a total of perhaps two million people – began their journey to freedom. They left Rameses and traveled to Sukkoth, carrying their kneading troughs bound up in their cloaks on their shoulders, filled with unleavened dough.

As they walked through the night, mothers carried sleeping children, fathers led livestock, and everyone carried what possessions they could manage. The long column of liberated slaves stretched for miles across the Egyptian landscape, moving toward an uncertain but hope-filled future.

The people who had entered Egypt 430 years earlier as honored guests had become slaves, but now they were leaving as God’s chosen nation. The promise made to Abraham – that his descendants would be strangers in a land not their own, where they would be enslaved and mistreated for four hundred years, but would come out with great possessions – was being fulfilled exactly as God had said.

The Lasting Memorial

As they traveled through that first night of freedom, the Israelites established the Passover as a perpetual remembrance. In years to come, when their children would ask, “What does this ceremony mean to you?” they would answer: “It is the Passover sacrifice to the LORD, who passed over the houses of the Israelites in Egypt and spared our homes when he struck down the Egyptians.”

The Passover would become the defining moment of Hebrew identity – the night when they were redeemed by the blood of the lamb and delivered from slavery to freedom. Every year, they would retell this story, eat the same symbolic foods, and remember that they were a people saved by grace and called to serve the living God.

The blood on the doorposts had made the difference between life and death, between slavery and freedom, between judgment and salvation. It was a picture that would echo through history, pointing forward to an even greater sacrifice when another innocent Lamb would give His life to provide redemption for all humanity.

But on this night, as the Hebrew people walked toward the Red Sea and their appointment with destiny, they carried with them the sacred memory of the Passover – the night when God proved that He is indeed the LORD, the God who saves His people and keeps His promises forever.