Let this cup pass from us...

Like many of you, I'm sure, I gave little thought to Passover growing up in my Evangelical church.  It was part of the story of Moses, part of the story of freedom for the Israelites.  I had a very compartmentalized, child-like view of what it must have looked like when God told Moses to have His children to secure themselves in their houses, struck by sacrificial blood on doorposts and lintels.  And finally, after death took so many, they safely exited their homes and started toward the Promised Land.  And generations later, Christ became the sacrificial lamb for us.  No need to observe Passover, there it stays in our children's stories and (for you older ones) felt boards.

But this year, so upended by events never seen before by those living, my mind has been going to Passover again and again.  As we, should anyway, hold our distance from others and stay in our homes, I think about Passover in a new way.  I think about God's protection and His instruction during that time.  I think about those Egyptians who suffered loss, and those who saw what the Israelites were doing and joined in for fear of the plagues that had already befallen them.  I think about the Israelites who didn't take the message seriously and suffered loss.  I have to believe there were both Egyptians who were saved, and Israelites who were lost.

When Jesus sat with His disciples for the last supper in the upper room, they celebrated Passover together.  He changed the sacraments to reflect what was about to happen-His body, torn; His blood, shed.  And when they left and went on to the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus went up to pray.  And three times He prayed "let this cup pass from me."  Jesus, himself, was praying for Passover because He knew He was about to drink from the cup of death.

I suppose in our own way, as Christians, we have celebrated the dawn of a new kind of Passover at Easter.  We celebrate that there is no longer death when found in Christ.  But I wonder if we consider, really ponder, that act of Passover Christ Himself would not partake in for our sake.  As we all formulate how to celebrate this Easter, apart from our local fellowship, let us consider two things. 

First, let's just sit and meditate what it means to be protected "inside" our homes.  Let's consider our core unit, our families, spared like the family units spared in Egypt.  Let's also consider those who have no option but to come dangerously close to the "cup".  Instead of waging a campaign about the Gospel not being quarantined, or that our rights are infringed upon, can we just allow THIS Easter to be about meditation on the curse passing over us?  And who accepted the cup on our behalf.  Can we be introspective instead of, what I admit myself feeling, a prideful jubilance?  The Gospel was never under quarantine, you just  may feel pressure to spread it now because there's some feeling your rights have been impeded.

Second, as we are removed from our local houses of worship, can we think about the church universal?  Can we begin to consider those Christians in Africa, Haiti, South America, and other locations who may experience this pandemic in far greater sorrow than we do?  If there is one thing that I find heartening, it's the acknowledgement the church isn't the four walls we meet in.  That's great!  But what does that really mean?  If it simply means that you're zooming services and exchanging texts with the people that are normally in the four walls....well, you may be at home, but you're still trapped in those four walls.  Take this time to reach out to other believers, outside of your church, outside of your denomination, maybe outside of this country's borders.  Let the body of Christ celebrate in unity unlike any Easter before because we aren't compartmentalized into thousands upon thousands of four-walled chambers throughout the country, and world.

This Easter, let's understand Passover in the context of our circumstances.  Let's meditate and, honestly, lament as we are often called to do in Scripture.  Let's connect, pray for comfort, extend hope, be the light in these dark days.  If we aren't, then who can be?  Passover begins at sundown on Wednesday.  Would you join me in praying that God protects us, and others, as we stand within the doorposts of our houses?