The Passover wasn’t just Israel’s story; it’s ours.
Luke 24 is unquestionably my most cherished text of Scripture, because it’s where Jesus tells us how to read our Bibles (Luke 24:27). If I had a time-traveling Delorean, this is the moment I’d go back in time to observe, as the risen Lord of glory unfurls and unfolds the pages of Scripture so that they trace the outline of the work he just got through finished — namely, the work of redemption and remission from sins. Consequently, Jesus’s encounter with two grieving disciples gives us a window into understanding everything from Genesis to Revelation. And although we aren’t told what places in Scripture to which the Lord pointed, I’m fairly certain Exodus 12 was among them, which means that those two disciples were among the first to hear from the lips of Jesus himself that he was their Passover Lamb.
No matter how many Passovers they had celebrated in years past, they’d never be able to celebrate that feast in the same way again. Christ had given it a new meaning, deepening its resonance from a day all devout Jews were meant to observe on an annual basis to a feast that showcased the means of their salvation. Like many other things, the cross and empty tomb reimagined that meal into something that no longer looked forward in anticipation, but backward in fulfillment (Luke 24:44–48). From then on, every Passover feast was imbued with the realization that what its participants eagerly expected had already been accomplished. What that first Passover pointed to was realized in and through Jesus’s death and resurrection.
1. The Apostolic Witness to the Lamb
This isn’t merely something stubborn Christ-centered preachers such as myself have made up out of thin air. The apostle Paul plainly says that “Christ [is] our Passover lamb” (1 Cor. 5:7). His contemporary, Peter, is similarly overt when he refers to Christ’s “precious blood” as “that of a lamb without blemish or spot” (1 Pet. 1:19). St. John does the same thing when he records the words of John the Baptist, gesturing to Jesus as “the Lamb of God” (John 1:29, 36). In fact, the image of Jesus as the Passover Lamb was so influential for “the disciple whom Jesus loved” that his so-called Apocalypse is peppered with it (Rev. 5:6, 8; 6:1–17; 7:9–10, 14; 12:11; 13:8; 14:1, 4–5; 15:3–4; 17:14; 19:7–9, 11–16; 21:9–10, 22–23; 22:1–4), crescendoing with his vision of the redeemed, that is, the church, singing aloud, “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing!” (Rev. 5:12).
The lifeblood of the Body of Christ is forever tethered to the blood of the Lamb, and it always will be. “Seeing Christ in Exodus 12,” Michael P. V. Barrett says, “is not the consequence of some exegetical sleight of hand; on the contrary, it is exegetically and theologically essential.” [1] Interpreting the ins and outs of that first Passover as a prophetic event that points to Jesus isn’t ancillary but remains a fundamental necessity.
2. A Meal That Preaches
Perusing God’s instructions regarding the first Passover might leave you swimming in details, especially as he offers meticulous commands regarding the method of cooking the lamb, the proper way to eat it, and even what side dishes should accompany it. What’s more, he also gives exact days and precise times when the lamb should be eaten. This wasn’t an ordinary meal; this wasn’t like going to KFC on a Sunday afternoon. Rather, this was a particular and predetermined feast that was meant to preach something to all who participated in it. The Passover “sermon” began on the tenth of Abib or, as it’d later be called, Nisan (which corresponds to roughly March or April), when the heads of every Israelite household chose a pristine, unblemished lamb to serve as the sacrificial main course (Exod. 12:1–6). Not just any old lamb would do, but one without any defects, mutations, or abnormalities.
After a careful inspection process, they were required to examine their chosen lamb for a further four days. From the tenth to the fourteenth, each lamb would be observed and scrutinized to ensure they truly were “without blemish.” Then, on the fourteenth of Nisan, that lamb would be killed “at twilight,” or between noon and sunset, which is approximately 3 p.m. This is when the Passover meal would commence, with the whole lamb roasted and eaten with “bitter herbs” and unleavened bread (Exod. 12:8–9). Of course, the fact that this lamb was to be roasted with its head, legs, and inner parts intact, with none of its bones broken (Exod. 12:46), is no minor detail. Actually, it’s the part of the Passover “sermon” that preaches substitution to everyone around the table.
This wasn’t BBQ lamb chops on a Friday night, it was a meal unlike any other. This was a life sacrificed for you, in your place. The whole lamb was wholly sacrificed for everyone under that roof on that specific day and time to preserve them from the angelic “destroyer” (Exod. 12:23). And this entire sequence is a beaming signpost pointing us to Jesus, down to the day.
3. The Perfect Lamb’s Perfect Timing
John tells us that “six days before the Passover,” Jesus entered Bethany, which sat on the outskirts of Jerusalem (John 12:1). The very “next day,” (five days before Passover) the Lord made his triumphal entry (John 12:12–13), where, for the next four days, he was meticulously and carefully scrutinized by scribes, Pharisees, and Sadducees, in no particular order (Luke 19—21). But amid all their questions and attempts at entrapment, Jesus was found faultless. He remained unblemished. This brings us to the day “on which the Passover lamb had to be sacrificed,” which we know was the fourteenth of Nisan (Luke 22:7). After all the preparations were made, Jesus’s apostles were led through a Passover meal they wouldn’t soon forget (Luke 22:14–20), followed by a flurry of events that moved at a rapid pace, from betrayals to trials to floggings.
A few hours later, with his beaten, bruised, and bloodied body nailed to a cross between two scoundrels, Jesus breathed his last breath, dying at the ninth hour (Luke 23:44–46). And yet not a bone on his body was broken (John 19:33, 36). None of this is happenstance, nor is it a matter of convenient timing. The Gospel writers are simply tracing Jesus’s sequence of events so that there would be no doubt about what he was doing. Whereas that first Passover was a shadow of things to come, Jesus was its substance. He is its fulfillment, leading his friends in the Passover ritual before dying the following afternoon as its ultimate realization. Jesus both shared that meal as its host and was crucified the next day as its sacrificial Lamb.
Jesus is our Passover Lamb, the one who fulfills the sequence of it to accomplish our salvation.
This whole sequence assures us that nothing was accidental. It was all unfolding “according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God” (Acts 2:23). “The day of the Crucifixion,” Rev. Alexander Maclaren declares, “regarded as fixed by divine Providence, may be taken as God’s own finger pointing to the Lamb whom He has provided.” [2] In other words, Jesus knew what he was getting himself into when he entered Jerusalem. He was well aware of how the rest of that week was going to unfold and how it would end for him, and he went through with it anyway. This is because Jesus is our Passover Lamb, the one who fulfills the sequence of it to accomplish our salvation.
4. When Judgment Passes Over
Part of God’s instructions to Moses regarding that first Passover included earmarking it as “the beginning of months” (Exod. 12:2). This meant a total reset of the Hebrew calendar, starting with that month. But “beginning” doesn’t just mean “first in order”; it also means “first in priority.” God is effectively telling Moses and Aaron that the month in which the Passover was celebrated was to have precedence over all other months, since what he was doing and revealing was of utmost importance. Through this meal, he was shaping his people’s identity around what he was going to do for them, which is further solidified when he insists that “this day,” that is, all the days of the Passover, would be “a memorial day” forever (Exod. 12:14). The entire ceremony was meant to remind everyone how on a night when judgment was set to rain down on every home in “the land of Egypt,” judgment passed over them (Exod. 12:26–27).
God’s priority for his people is that they realize how he “spared” them and how his mercy preserved them from the judgment they rightly deserved (cf. Ezek. 20:7–8). They, too, were confronted with the threat of “the destroyer.” When the Angel of the Lord descended as the angel of death, there was no prejudice, nor was there preference shown to one or another. There was no socio-economic status, religious demographic, or ethnicity that was excluded. As the Lord makes clear, everyone faced the same judgment, from the one sitting on the throne to the one in the gutter, and everywhere in between (Exod. 11:4–5). This climactic plague of death serves as a prelude to the final judgment at the end of all things, where everyone, regardless of background, race, or creed, will stand before the Judge.
Just as those with no blood on their doors wept uncontrollably, so it will be on that awful and dreadful day in eternity, where a greater, more terrible cry than in Egypt will echo through the halls of heaven, as those who refused to listen finally realize their fate. The grim reality is that there will be no relief for those who demand to stand before the Judge on their own. Indeed, standing before him by ourselves, without anything covering us or protecting us, is the stuff of nightmares. It leads only to death (Exod. 12:29–30). Those who are spared are those who are “covered,” and who have their robes washed white by “the blood of the Lamb” (Rev. 7:14). “The God of judgment, who came to impose a penalty of death justly due,” J. Alec Motyer writes, “saw the blood and ‘passed over’ in peace.” [3]
Faced with the same prospect of death and judgment, the Body of Christ is called to plead for the truth of the gospel: our eternal security is a gift that emerges from the merciful announcement that judgment has passed over us because of Jesus. The church is a called-out assembly of people who rally around a meal of remembrance that preaches their salvation (Luke 22:19).
5. A Real Sacrifice for Real Sinners
There is something visceral and striking about what God institutes in the first Passover. For Moses and Aaron, and the rest of the people of Israel, their hope of being spared wasn’t just some nice idea. This was no figment of their imagination, nor was it an abstract concept. Rather, their rescue and escape from judgment was as real as the roasted lamb sitting on the dinner table. Another reason why God commanded the lamb to be cooked and eaten whole was that it compelled all who partook of it to come to grips with the reality of their pardon. Instead of a plateful of diced and seasoned lamb chops, here was a whole lamb as the centerpiece of this bloody feast. What did it cost to release them from judgment? What was the price to absolve them of guilt? To exonerate them? To secure peace with God? An innocent lamb, killed and sacrificed instead of them, with its blood running down the lintel and posts of the front door as an unmistakable reminder of the reality of what was done for them.
To say with John the Baptist, “Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world” is to confess the reality of a life given for you and blood poured out for you (John 1:29).
Thus, the entire scene underscores the reality and objectivity of what we confess. To say that we believe in Jesus Christ crucified and risen again for us, and for our salvation, isn’t a figment of our imagination. This isn’t some myth or some theological tall tale. Neither is this something humanity has made up to cope with a world that’s riddled with brokenness, disease, and death. No, relief for the guilt you feel, pardon for all the wrongs you’ve committed, and hope for a remedy for all that’s fractured is as real as the blood of Jesus mixing with Jewish soil. To say with John the Baptist, “Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world” is to confess the reality of a life given for you and blood poured out for you (John 1:29).
6. The Lamb Who Took Our Place
Your hope of forgiveness and remission from sin is as real as the blood being put on doorframes (Exod. 12:7, 21–22) and the sweat that fell from our Savior’s forehead (Luke 22:44). What transpired on the cross was a real transaction, where Jesus gave his life for yours and mine. He really suffered all the devastating, agonizing, and traumatizing effects of death on the cross. “Christ, our Passover lamb,” endured all the grief, sorrow, and affliction that our sin deserved so that we might be passed over. “Jesus clothed himself with our nature,” nineteenth-century Scottish clergyman John Cumming once wrote, “took our place of responsibility, suffered all we deserved as sinners, and did all that we owed as creatures; so that in Christ our sins have been suffered for, and we escape their consequences; and by Christ our Law has been obeyed, and we inherit all the blessed results.” [4]
Therefore, as Israelite families gathered around a table to partake in the Passover meal, so does the church. Only our meal isn’t an annual festival; it’s a weekly celebration. Every time the Word is opened, we are invited to have a seat at the table to feast on our Passover Lamb and revel in the reality of what he accomplished for us (Heb. 9:11–14, 25–26). “Christ, our Passover lamb,” offered himself and shed his own blood to release you from condemnation. The God who passed over Egypt so long ago is the same God who made a way to pass over sinners by “the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world” (Rev. 13:8). Only now, we live on the far side of a truer and greater Exodus; one that isn’t just marked by blood on doorframes, but by blood on our hearts. In other words, the Passover wasn’t just Israel’s story; it’s ours.
[1] Michael P. V. Barrett, The Gospel of Exodus: Misery, Deliverance, Gratitude (Grand Rapids, MI: Reformation Heritage Books, 2020), 109.
[2] Alexander Maclaren, Expositions of Holy Scripture, Vols. 1–17 (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1944), 1:1.42.
[3] J. Alec Motyer, The Message of Exodus: The Days of Our Pilgrimage, Revised Edition, The Bible Speaks Today (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2021), 121.
[4] John Cumming, Christ Our Passover, or, Thoughts on the Atonement (London: Arthur Hall, Virtue & Co., 1854), 32.
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