Passover

Last Sunday I was blessed by God at the Gateway Church hearing one of my favorite preachers bring two powerful lessons from the Word. John W. Smith compelled us to truly grasp our primary purpose in life, namely, knowing God and living a life worthy of the gospel of Jesus Christ. If you would like to listen to these messages go to http://www.gatewaycofc.org/633496.ihtml.

I led the communion devotional that day. Below is a narrative I composed and read for the occasion.

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Rachel was ten and she was furious.  She was lying in bed (as commanded) but she was not going to sleep! How could she? The whole day was terrible. Everything was all wrong.

The day started beautifully. Mornings in the Land of Goshen could be breathtaking. After dressing and eating breakfast she hurried to see her lamb. Father had given this lamb to raise as her own. He was a one-year-old and he was perfect. The only sheep or goat they owned without a defect. For the past four days Father had been taking extra special care to make sure the lamb was all right. That’s why Rachel was shocked that when Father returned from his special meeting, he sat her down and told her that her lamb had to be slaughtered.

“No, Abba!” she cried. “Not my lamb! Use another!” but Father replied, “Rachel, Moses has told us that we must do this to protect our homes. The lamb chosen must be without any blemish. I’m sorry. You will understand later.” Well, she didn’t understand any of it. When twilight approached and Father took the lamb into the courtyard to slaughter it, Rachel ran into Mother’s arms and buried her weeping face as she heard the worst sound of her young life.

Numb from the loss, Rachel knew that something very bizarre was happening because Father was taking some of her lamb’s blood and spreading it on the sides and top of the door frame. After roasting her lamb, Father made the family come to the table dressed as if they were leaving soon. Father has his cloak tucked in his belt, his sandals on and staff in hand. “What is wrong with everybody? We never eat like this.” Rachel whispered to herself.

At the table there were only two choices. Bread without leaven and roasted lamb... her lamb. All she was going to eat was bread, period! Not only did Father insist that she eat some of the meat but Mother had to eventually threaten her to comply. It wasn’t fair. They take her pet, kill it and then force her to eat some of it. On top of that it tasted horrible! It was terribly tart because of the bitter herbs mother used when she cooked it. Her brother and sisters hated it too but were too scared to say anything because Father kept repeating to the family that the prophet of God had made clear commands about this meal.

As usual, Mother put the children in their beds. And as always Father came in to pray with them. He told them he loved them and that God was preparing to do something great so Pharaoh would release Israel and that is why the family was still dressed in their traveling clothes. When he got to Rachel’s side he found her weeping. “Why, Abba? Why? I miss my lamb. I’m in bed but I’m not going to sleep!” she said defiantly. “Little One” Father said, “The angel of the Lord is going to come to Egypt and take the life of the firstborn of every home that doesn’t have what we have on our door frame. Your lamb is going to save us.

Eventually, she fell asleep only to be wakened later by her mother telling her to get up. Father had been gathering a few essentials and called all of them to hurry because it was time to leave. As they walked out of Goshen no one could speak for the air was burdened with the cries of the Egyptians. A chilling echo Rachel could never forget.

Father, in heaven, thank You for the Passover story. Thank You for Jesus being our lamb whose blood will ensure that one day Your destroying angel will pass over us. Lord, it is good that we partake of Your supper. The unleavened bread and the fruit of the vine still serve to remind us that it took the Lamb’s life to save ours. It is only by Christ’s blood can we be saved. May we be faithful to all Your commands and be at the ready to leave this world when You call us heavenward. In the name of Him who was slain. Amen.

Blessings,

<>< John

Strikeout

I walked up to the plate wearing used cleats and holding a second-hand bat. Our church’s softball team was well ahead in runs but I still felt pressure to perform. Why? John W. Smith, one of my friends and preaching  heroes was standing behind the backstop. He had just completed a powerful seminar at the Church I was serving and was staying over until the Pepperdine University Bible Lectures. I had invited him earlier that day to watch the game since I knew he loves sports.

Before John arrived, I had already hit a nice grounder for a single but this time at bat I wasn’t as loosened up and I knew it. So did my teammates for I heard them encourage me, "Hey John...relax." So, I decided to let the first pitch pass no matter how good it looked. It seemed like a good idea at the moment. But, that became a big mistake. In that league, you go to the plate with one ball and one strike counted against you in order to keep the pace moving. The pitcher sent me a beautiful gift right into my power zone and I let it pass. “Strike two!” the umpire cried out. But it was actually I who was crying inside because I realized I had set myself up for too much pressure and in danger of being struck out. The next pitch was dreadfully short of the base but I swung nevertheless and swoosh - - I was out.

I did not want to go back to where my mentor and teammates were gathered. I wanted to just walk away and get a grip on the emotions racing through me. You see, for a competitive 40-something, out of shape man who can still remember when he was great at the game, sports can be brutally frustrating. Expectations followed by failure can lead to humiliation. Dragging my countenance off the field, I braced for the comments. The really bad thing about being someone who dishes out a razzing to others is that you must take it when it’s your turn to be razzed.

When I stepped off the field John did give me a hard time but quickly gauged my reaction and then did the unexpected. He hugged me. I had struck out in front of my son Matthew, my teammates, their wives in the bleachers, the opposing team and most painfully – my role model. Now we stood there hugging. It’s amazing how embracement removes embarrassment. When someone wraps their arms around you and applies pressure it’s as if they squeeze the negative emotions out of you. I've always felt better after a hug.

Father God, hug me. Hold me close and squeeze out of my soul the remorse I feel from striking out in front of Your eyes. I need affirmation not condemnation, intimacy not criticism. I need grace. Remind me that its not always about performance and perfection but about kinship and closeness. Thank You for inspiring me to get back onto Your field. I’m proud to be uniformed with Christ and will play the game of life the best I can. For Jesus’ sake. Amen.


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THIS SUNDAY (1/1512) John W. Smith (click here) will be preaching for the Gateway Church of Christ 

His first message will be at 9:30 AM followed with a sermon during our 10:30 worship gathering

go to:  www.gatewaycofc.org    for directions






Blessings,

John <><