When I See the Blood

Recently, my Bible reading plan led me to the book of Exodus, which records the account of the Israelites being rescued from Egyptian bondage by the hand of God through ten incredible plagues as He executed judgments “against all the gods of Egypt.” (Exodus 12:12)

I don’t know how many times I have read through the story of the exodus, and yet this time a single phrase jumped off the page and pierced my heart.

The context is during the tenth and final plague when God instructs the Israelites to sacrifice an unblemished lamb at twilight. They were then to take some of the blood and put it on the two doorpost and lintel of their front door. This was to mark their homes so that those inside would be spared from God’s judgment He was executing throughout all of Egypt.

And the Lord said, “…when I see the blood I will pass over you.”

When I see the blood I will pass over you.

And then it hit me – everything that I am physically, emotionally, and spiritually, is riding on the truth of that one phrase: “when I see the blood I will pass over you.” If that is not true, then my life is completely worthless and all would be for nothing.

What’s important to note is that God who is the omniscient Creator of the universe who knows the heart and mind of every person did not actually need to see the blood on the lintels and doorposts in order to keep things straight in His mind as to who was His and who wasn’t. He knew the heart of every person with the blood smeared on the doorpost as well as the heart of every person who did not have it. So the blood served as a reminder, not for God but for those inside the house. It was to show them that it was out of their hands; their salvation depended wholly on God alone. The Lord told them, “I am about to release a judgment on the land of Egypt so fierce and terrifying that there will be a great cry throughout the land such as there has not been before and such as shall never be again. And this judgment will be so encompassing that it will strike every single household in Egypt. But I have made a way of escape for you. Just do what I tell you and trust Me.” This is the theme throughout redemptive history that would point not just to a symbol or a shadow of things to come, but the reality of Christ being the source of salvation for all who trust in God alone.

Picture in your mind an Israelite family by faith sacrificing the lamb, by faith preparing the unleavened bread, by faith spreading the blood on the doorposts, and by faith eating the Passover meal. Their hope was beyond themselves; it rested in the One who said “when I see the blood I will pass over you.”

Martin Luther wrote in his classic Bondage of the Will:

God has surely promised His grace to the humbled: that is, to those who mourn over and despair of themselves. But a man cannot be thoroughly humbled till he realizes that his salvation is utterly beyond his own powers, counsels, efforts, will and works, and depends absolutely on the will, counsel, pleasure and work of Another – God alone. As long as a man is persuaded that he can make even the smallest contribution to his salvation, he remains self-confident and does not utterly despair of himself, and so is not humbled before God. Such a man plans out for himself – or at least hopes and longs for – a position, an occasion, a work, which shall bring him final salvation, but which will not. Conversely, the man who is out of doubt that his destiny depends entirely on the will of God, despairs entirely of himself, chooses nothing for himself, but waits for God to work in him; and such a man is very near to grace for his salvation.

The Feast of Passover is also known as the Feast of Unleavened Bread. God commanded them to remove all of the leaven from their homes and to bake their bread without leaven because they would not have time for their bread to rise before they were rescued. So with that, it is much easier to understand Paul’s words to the Corinthians: “Clean out the old leaven so that you may be a new lump, just as you are in fact unleavened. For Christ our Passover also has been sacrificed. Therefore let us celebrate the feast, not with old leaven, nor with the leaven of malice and wickedness, but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth.” (1 Corinthians 5:7-8)

The bread and the cup of communion before you are to serve as a reminder that Christ is our Passover lamb and we, by faith, consume all that He is, and by faith we place our hope firmly and exclusively on the Person and work of Jesus Christ so that when our heavenly Father sees the blood, He will pass over us.

Saving Us from Ourselves

We often use the phrase that we are “saved.” To be saved implies that we are saved from something, from some imminent danger. Scripture describes a number of things that we are saved from by the work of Jesus Christ on the Cross. For example, we are saved from God’s wrath (Romans 5:9), we are saved from sin (1 John 1:7), and we are saved from eternal, spiritual death (Romans 6:23).

Another aspect I want us to look at is that Christ died to save us from ourselves. Romans 1:18-28 reads, “For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men who suppress the truth in unrighteousness, because that which is known about God is evident within them; for God made it evident to them. For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made, so that they are without excuse.”

Now, let’s stop there for just a second. Clearly, we don’t have time to delve into this too far, but suffice it to say that Scripture is very clear that mankind is without excuse before God. You see, in our twisted self-centeredness we ask the question, “Why do bad things happen to good people?” When the truth is that we have flipped the question on its head. Instead, we should be asking, “Why do good things happen to bad people? Why, O God, have you been so patient, so kind to mankind who is inherently wicked and continually defying You? Why have we not been swept away in a tsunami, or wiped out by civil war, or starved to death through drought?”

See, we must move beyond this idea of equating man’s moralism with God’s righteousness, and we must correctly define “good” the way God defines it. Just like Jesus pointed out in Mark 10… “Why do you call me good?…” Jesus’ point was not that He was not good, but that this man had no clue what ‘good’ really was.

Let’s continue in Romans 1:21, “For even though they knew God, they did not honor Him as God or give thanks, but they became futile in their speculations, and their foolish heart was darkened. Professing to be wise, they became fools, and exchanged the glory of the incorruptible God for an image in the form of corruptible man …Therefore God gave them over in the lusts of their hearts to impurity, …  For they exchanged the truth of God for a lie, and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator…  For this reason God gave them over to degrading passions; …  And just as they did not see fit to acknowledge God any longer, God gave them over to a depraved mind, to do those things which are not proper,”

So three times here Paul emphasizes that God “gave them over” to their own desires – the lusts of their hearts, degrading passions, and depraved minds. In other words, God gives them (us) what they want. Mankind says, “I refuse to believe that I have to answer to some Higher Power; I am my own master; I control my own destiny. I am self-determining.”

Just listen to the poem Invictus by the 19^th century English poet William Henley:

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Mankind reads this poem that reeks of agnostic stoicism and feels inspired and invigorated. But God says, “A man who hardens his neck after much reproof will suddenly be broken beyond remedy.” (Prov 29:1)

And ultimately God says, “Okay, you want to believe that you are the master of your fate, the captain of your soul? You are not, but I will let you believe that. I will give you what you think you want. If separation from Me is what you desire, then that is what you will receive.” And so Paul writes that “For this reason God will send upon them a deluding influence so that they will believe what is false.” (2 Thess 2:11)

And ultimately, that is what hell is. That is why Paul describes “the penalty of eternal destruction” in 2 Thessalonians 1:9 as “away from the presence of the Lord.”

J.I. Packer writes:

“Scripture sees hell as self-chosen…[H]ell appears as God’s gesture of respect for human choice. All receive what they actually chose, either to be with God forever, worshipping him, or without God forever, worshipping themselves.” (J.I. Packer, Concise Theology p.262-263.)

So after our physical death, we end up getting what we truly wanted while we were here on earth – either to be forever in the presence of God or forever away from Him.

The problem is that we are so corrupted by sin that, apart from Christ’s work, we will not, indeed we cannot choose God.

Charles Spurgeon said,

“Free will I have often heard of, but I have never seen it. I have met with will, and plenty of it, but it has either been led captive by sin or held in blessed bonds of grace.” (“Our Change of Masters” sermon delivered on July 6, 1879 at The Metropolitan Tabernacle, Newington)

That is why the Person and work of Jesus Christ is of supreme importance. Unless and until we have a true, biblical understanding of “good” and of hell, we will never even begin to understand the extent to which God in Christ Jesus pursued us to save us from ultimate, self-chosen destruction, and therefore our utter and complete dependence on Him to save us.

2 Corinthians 5:15 says, “[Christ] died for all, so that they who live might no longer live for themselves, but for Him who died and rose again on their behalf.”

Another way to state that is: Christ died to save us from ourselves so that we can live for Him.

As we take communion together, let us think about how Christ’s death makes His proclamations of grace and love even more astounding, so that we no longer have to be slaves to our own evil desires, and instead stand in awe of Christ’s strength, honor, leadership, and self-sacrificing love.

Yom Kippur

The Jewish holy day Yom Kippur begins this Tuesday at sunset and ends at sunset on Wednesday. It is considered the holiest day of the year for the Jewish people and is marked by fasting and prayers of repentance. Yom means “day” in Hebrew and kippur comes from the root kaphar in Hebrew, which means “to cover or hide”; a secondary meaning is “to appease, propitiate, or to make an atonement.” Thus Yom Kippur means “Day of Atonement.”

On this Day, the priests were instructed in the Law to perform a complex set of special services and sacrifices that were considered to be most sacred because through them the High Priest made atonement for the entire nation of Israel (see Leviticus 16). During the service, the High Priest entered the Holy of Holies in the center of the Temple behind the veil where the Ark of the Covenant was located. This was the only time of the year that the priest was allowed inside the Holy of Holies, and then only by entering with blood, otherwise he would die (Leviticus 16:2; Hebrews 9:1-7). And doing so required special purification and preparation of the High Priest, including five immersions or baptisms in a mikvah (ritual bath), and four changes of clothing. He had to enter the Holy of Holies first with the blood of a bull for his sins and the sins of his household and then with the blood of a goat for the sins of the people. So, it could be seen that on the Day of Atonement, God allowed the blood of bulls and goats to kaphar  or “cover over, hide” the sins of the people.

These sacrifices and baptisms were symbolic gestures; but therein lies the problem – they were only symbolic. They did not truly remove their sins. God did not deal with them fully and finally; He only covered over them. The Day of Atonement was only a shadow of things to come, and those who walked by faith understood that it could not, in the true sense, take away their sin. The Prophet Samuel understood this: “Has the Lord as much delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as in obeying the voice of the Lord? Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to heed than the fat of rams.” (1 Samuel 15:22) King David understood this also: “For You, O Lord, do not delight in sacrifice, otherwise I would give it; You are not pleased with burnt offering.” (Psalm 51:16). The Prophet Micah understood this, as well: “Does the Lord take delight in thousands of rams, in ten thousand rivers of oil? Shall I present my firstborn for my rebellious acts, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?” (Micah 6:7)

In fact, the writer of Hebrews says, “For the Law, since it has only a shadow of the good things to come and not the very form of things, can never, by the same sacrifices which they offer continually year by year, make perfect those who draw near. But in those sacrifices there is a reminder of sins year by year. For it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins.” (Hebrews 10:1,3-4)

The Apostle Paul understood this when he wrote in Romans 3:25, “in the forbearance of God He passed over the sins previously committed”. However, later in Romans Paul quotes an Old Testament passage that prophesied, “This is my covenant with them, when I take away their sins.” (Romans 11:27) When Christ came, He came to deal with sin fully and finally. He did not come merely to cover over sins, but He came to take sins away. So you can hear the joy in John the Baptist’s voice when he pointed to Jesus and proclaimed, “Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!” (John 1:29). Imagine what a profound statement that must have been for a first century Jew who had heard all his life that his sins had only been covered or hidden. But now the Apostle John writes, “You know that [Jesus] appeared in order to take away sins…” (1 John 3:5)

The blood of Jesus, our Savior, did not simply cover or hide our sins, but was powerful and effective to take away our sins. What does that mean for those of us who come to Him by faith? It means that Jesus has fully and finally removed our condemnation, completely fulfilled the requirements of the Law in us, and has given us the power to overcome sin that we were once enslaved to. (Romans 8:1-4; 2 Peter 1:3-4)

So the culmination of the Day of Atonement – the reality of that Day, not just a shadow – was presented in the person and work of Jesus Christ on the Cross. “Every priest [stood] daily ministering and offering time after time the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins; but He, having offered one sacrifice for sins for all time, sat down at the right hand of God.” (Hebrews 10:11-12)

As we take part together in the sacraments, we remember Jesus’ death and resurrection; but this is not a reminder of our sins year after year. Instead, it is a reminder of Christ who removed our sins and “by [His] will we have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all.” (Hebrews 10:10) And that is why it says that He “will appear a second time for salvation without reference to sin, to those who eagerly await Him.” (Hebrews 9:28)

Solus Christus

“‘God is opposed to the proud, but gives grace to the humble.’ Submit therefore to God. Resist the devil and he will flee from you. Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners; and purify your hearts, you double-minded. Be miserable and mourn and weep; let your laughter be turned into mourning and your joy to gloom. Humble yourselves in the presence of the Lord, and He will exalt you.” (James 4:6-10)

God Himself has promised grace to the humble, to those who are miserable and mourn and weep because they see the total depravity of their souls. But we will never realize this condition of humility unless we first realize that salvation is completely and utterly beyond our own efforts, will, and power and lies completely and utterly in the efforts, will and power of God alone. As long as a person believes that he can make even the smallest effort toward his salvation, he is not humbled before God. He is simply resting in a false hope of moralism.

One of the great deceptions of our generation is that we believe we are basically good. We hear it every day from Oprah and Osteen to the Dalai Lama: in order for us to achieve our potential, we must find the good within us and push out the negativity surrounding us. There is a glaring problem with this line of thinking: Jesus did not come to call the righteous but sinners to repentance. (Luke 5:32). He did not come to call those who just need a little nudge in the right direction. He did not come to call those who are looking for a fix to their morality. He did not come to call those who needed a little help. Because at the heart of the belief in the inherent goodness of man is pride. But as we read, God is opposed to the proud in heart. (Psalms 138:6; Proverbs 3:34; Matthew 23:12; James 4:6; 1 Peter 5:5) And John declares, “If we say that we have no sin, we are deceiving ourselves and the truth is not in us.” (1 John 1:8)

Pastor and author Jared Wilson wrote,

“The message of the gospel is not ‘Behave!’

I believe many Christians in America would be satisfied if “the culture” just stopped using pornography and drugs and alcohol and stopped aborting babies and started “acting right.” As far as I can tell, that would be a Win.

But it’s not a win. A land where everybody acts right and is on their best behavior, where peace reigns and social decay is no more and the poor are helped and the hungry are fed, but Christ is not worshiped as the sole supreme satisfaction in all the universe, is a big fat FAIL.

There is a great difference between “being good” and the gospel. Some call it moralism. Moralism, in fact, blinds us from the gospel by giving us something of “the real thing” ensuring that we miss out on the true gospel all together. We must remember that Christ came first not to make bad people good but to make dead people live. If we forget that, our Christianity will turn out to be Christless.”

I think many Christians in America have been duped in this politically-charged atmosphere. If moral reform is all you are looking for, you do not know Jesus, nor do you understand the gospel.

As C.S. Lewis wrote: “We must not suppose that if we succeeded in making everyone nice we should have saved their souls. A world of nice people, content in their own niceness, looking no further, turned away from God, would be just as desperately in need of salvation as a miserable world.”

Dr. Michael Horton offers this insight in his book Christless Christianity: The Alternative Gospel of the American Church

“Over half a century ago, Presbyterian minister Donald Grey Barnhouse offered his own scenario in his weekly sermon that was also broadcast nationwide on CBS radio. Barnhouse speculated that if Satan took over Philadelphia (the city where Barnhouse pastored), all of the bars would be closed, pornography banished, and pristine streets would be filled with tidy pedestrians who smiled at each other. There would be no swearing. The children would say, “Yes, sir” and “No ma’am,” and the churches would be full every Sunday…where Christ is not preached.”

Wilson goes on to say, “We are called to preach not moralism but Christ crucified, foolishness to American culture and a stumbling block to American Christians.”

By taking communion, we are identifying ourselves with Christ, and we confess that our hope lies wholly and completely on the Person and work of Jesus Christ alone. We must confess along with the hymnist:

Not the labors of my hands
Can fulfill Thy law’s commands;
Could my zeal no respite know,
Could my tears forever flow,
All for sin could not atone;
Thou must save, and Thou alone.

(Rock of Ages, written by Augustus Montague Toplady, published 1775)

The God Who Sees

Wesleyan Methodist minister Samuel Chadwick wrote,

“We are moved by the act of God. Omniscience holds no conference. Infinite authority leaves no room for compromise. Eternal love offers no explanations. The LORD expects to be trusted. He disturbs us at will. Human arrangements are disregarded, family ties ignored, business claims put aside. We are never asked if it is convenient.” (from Spiritual Discipleship: Principles of Following Christ for Every Believer by J. Oswald Sanders, p. 30; emphasis mine)

Such is the situation we find Abraham in Genesis 22. It begins, “Now it came about…that God tested Abraham, and said to him, “Abraham!” And he said, “Here I am.” He said, “Take now your son, your only son, whom you love, Isaac, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains of which I will tell you.””

By this time Abraham was well over 100 years old. He had begun this journey of faith when he was 75. He and his wife Sarah had been walking the ancient path of faith that already bore the footprints of Abel, Enoch, Noah, and others like them; a faith that is absolutely sure of what is hoped for and utterly convinced of what is not yet seen (Hebrews 11:1).

We cannot help but wonder, “Why now, God? Abraham is an old man. He has already shown his faithfulness to You. Leave him alone. Let him retire and finish his days in peace. And why Isaac? He is the very child You promised to them!” Yet as A. W. Tozer once said, “It is doubtful whether God can bless a man greatly until He has hurt him deeply.”

This child, Isaac, had already brought Abraham and Sarah unspeakable joy; the one they had named “laughter” years ago as this old, grey-haired couple sat in their tent and held their newborn son, laughing until they cried, and then laughing at their tears.

Abraham, of course, had heard God speak many times in the past. His mind raced back to the time by the oaks of Mamre, when he and Sarah entertained their heavenly visitors. The LORD had come to reveal to him what He was about to do to the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah. Abraham was standing before the LORD, and yet he had this uncontrollable urge to negotiate with Him for the sake of his nephew Lot and his family. It was bold, to say the least. But it was as if God was inviting Abraham to plead with Him, to reason with Him so that the LORD could show that He is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and great in lovingkindness.

But there would be no pleading this time, no chance for negotiations. No, this was different. The emphatic words of the LORD offered no options. Instead they released a gut-wrenching pain: “your son, your only son, whom you love, Isaac.” Nor would there be any second-guessing this time either as he and Sarah had done with Hagar. It would not be Ishmael, the child of the bondwoman, but Isaac, the child of the free woman, the child of promise (see Galatians 4:21-31).

Abraham recalled the stories he heard as a child of how God Himself performed the first sacrifice on behalf of Adam and Eve (Genesis 3:21). Abraham understood that blood had to be spilled in order to cover their shame. And yet, though faithfully performing sacrifices to the LORD himself, Abraham knew there was something lacking. There was a sense deep within him that knew the blood of bulls and goats was never going to clear his conscience or make him perfect (Hebrews 9:9). Abraham couldn’t help but wonder, would the blood of his only begotten son (Hebrews 11:17) be the way? It seemed utterly contrary to the God he had followed all of these years and had come to know. But the words were undeniably clear: “your son, your only son, whom you love, Isaac.” What Abraham did not know at the time was that a promised Son would, in fact, be required as the perfect sacrifice. Only not now…and not Isaac.

No sleep was to be found for Abraham that night. His mind raced with a thousand questions. Had he misunderstood God’s promise to him that Isaac would be his heir? (Genesis 15:4) His body drenched with sweat, Abraham arose, left his tent, and once again looked up at the stars. God’s words were as clear to him now as they were those many years ago, “So shall your descendents be.” (Genesis 15:5) That gift of faith that the LORD credited to him as righteousness began to burn with holy passion. And so, just before daybreak, Abraham was resolved: God must be able to raise people even from the dead. (Hebrews 11:19)

“So Abraham rose early in the morning and saddled his donkey, and took…Isaac his son; and he split wood for the burnt offering, and arose and went…” (Genesis 22:3)

The place where the sacrifice was to be performed was in the land of Moriah, a three days journey north. Even at his young age, Isaac had already become accustomed to his father doing seemingly strange things in the name of his God, this God whom Isaac was learning to trust. He remembers overhearing the servants saying that his father was like the wind blowing where it wishes. You hear the sound of it, but do not know where it comes from or where it is going (John 3:8). Yet each and every time, his father’s God had proved Himself faithful.

“Father?” “Here I am, my son.” “We have the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?” Abraham, choking back the tears, said, “God will provide for Himself the lamb for the burnt offering, my son.” God will provide. Elohim Yireh – literally “God sees.” Isaac had heard his father speak of God many times before. But this – Elohim Yireh – carried such a weight with it, something so terrifying yet so glorious, that it caused Isaac to shiver.

Few words were spoken as they reached the top of the mountain. Isaac had seen his father build altars before and helped with the task. All along, he wondered, “Where will we find a lamb?” After the altar was completed and the wood that Isaac had carried was laid on top, Abraham turned to his son, tears now tracing the lines down his dark, weathered face. For Isaac, the next few minutes became a blur; a surreal, terrible dream as his father whom he loved and knew loved him deeply bound his hands and feet and laid him on the pile of wood on top of the altar. He saw his father’s hand shaking as he picked up the knife, the same knife he watched his father carefully sharpen as they sat by the fire the night before. “I must make sure the sacrifice is as swift and painless as possible.” his father had explained the previous night.

As Abraham slowly raised the knife toward his son’s neck, “the angel of the LORD called to him from heaven and said, “Abraham, Abraham!” And he said, “Here I am.” He said, “Do not stretch out your hand against the lad, and do nothing to him; for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from Me.” Then Abraham raised his eyes and looked, and behold, behind him a ram caught in the thicket by his horns.” (Gen 22:11-13)

The father snatched his beloved son into his arms, weeping uncontrollably………. “Elohim Yireh…” Abraham whispered. “Elohim Yireh!” His heart now about to explode. “ELOHIM YIREH!” God sees! The tears of unspeakable sadness turned in an instant to radiant joy. “My Son, my only Son, whom I love, Isaac! God has provided!”

And with that, the LORD who sees opened ever so slightly the veil, allowing us to see a harbinger of something infinitely greater. Hudson Taylor once wrote, “Not infrequently our God brings His people into difficulties on purpose that they may come to know Him as they could not otherwise do.” Indeed, Abraham had come to know his God in a way like never before and had provided for his son an example of an unshakable foundation of faith. However, this heartrending experience was not for Abraham alone, but would be used to point countless thousands toward their salvation.

Centuries later, another Father would place wood on the back of His Son, His only Son, whom He loved, Jesus, and would lead Him up a hill to be sacrificed. Only this time there would be no angel to stay the hand at the last second and no ram caught in the thicket. This time, God would not spare His own Son, but instead deliver Him over for us all (Romans 8:32). Make no mistake, a substitution took place. God provided a Lamb, pure and spotless, to be sacrificed in your place, because“Christ also loved you and gave Himself up for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God as a fragrant aroma.” (Ephesians 5:2) And then God proved, just as Abraham believed, that He had power over death and raised Jesus from the dead.