The Passover – When Death Passed Over
On that fateful night in Egypt, death stalked the land. The angel of destruction moved from house to house, and the firstborn of every family lay in peril. Yet amid the terror, one thing alone could save—the blood of a lamb painted on the doorposts and lintel. Where that blood was found, death passed over. Where it was absent, death entered. This ancient deliverance became the defining moment of Israel’s history and the clearest picture of the gospel in the entire Old Testament.
The Historical Setting
For four hundred years, Israel had languished in Egyptian bondage. What began as honored guests in Joseph’s day had devolved into brutal slavery under Pharaohs who knew not Joseph. God’s people groaned under taskmasters’ whips, their male children drowned in the Nile, their spirits crushed by endless labor. Yet God had not forgotten His covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
When Moses stood before Pharaoh demanding, “Let my people go,” the king of Egypt hardened his heart. Nine devastating plagues struck the land—water turned to blood, frogs invaded homes, lice infested man and beast, flies swarmed, livestock died, boils afflicted the Egyptians, hail destroyed crops, locusts devoured what remained, and darkness covered the land for three days. Still Pharaoh refused.
The tenth plague would be different. God announced through Moses: “About midnight will I go out into the midst of Egypt: And all the firstborn in the land of Egypt shall die, from the firstborn of Pharaoh that sitteth upon his throne, even unto the firstborn of the maidservant that is behind the mill; and all the firstborn of beasts” (Exodus 11:4-5). No household would be exempt—unless protected by the blood.
The Passover Institution
God gave Moses precise instructions for Israel’s deliverance. On the tenth day of the month, each household was to select a lamb—a male of the first year, without blemish. This lamb would live with the family for four days, examined daily to ensure it remained perfect. On the fourteenth day, at evening, the whole congregation would kill their lambs.
“And they shall take of the blood, and strike it on the two side posts and on the upper door post of the houses, wherein they shall eat it” (Exodus 12:7). The blood was not to be hidden inside the house but displayed publicly on the doorframe—a visible testimony of faith in God’s provision. Inside, the family would roast the lamb and eat it entirely, with unleavened bread and bitter herbs, dressed and ready to depart at God’s command.
God declared the purpose plainly: “And the blood shall be to you for a token upon the houses where ye are: and when I see the blood, I will pass over you, and the plague shall not be upon you to destroy you, when I smite the land of Egypt” (Exodus 12:13). The operative phrase echoes through the centuries: “When I see the blood.”
The Lamb Without Blemish
Why such specific requirements for the lamb? The animal had to be male, representing the masculine role of protector and provider. It had to be young—in the first year of life, full of vigor and vitality. Most critically, it had to be “without blemish”—no defect, disease, or imperfection could disqualify it for this sacred purpose.
The four days of examination served a dual purpose. Practically, it ensured the lamb’s perfection was thoroughly verified. Spiritually, it allowed the family to know this lamb—to form an attachment to the innocent creature that would die in their place. When the knife fell on that fourteenth day, it was not the death of a stranger but of one who had lived among them.
Not one bone of the lamb was to be broken. Even in death, the lamb must remain complete, whole, perfect. This strange requirement would find its ultimate meaning on a hill outside Jerusalem many centuries later.
The Blood Applied
Having the lamb was not enough. Killing the lamb was not enough. The blood had to be applied—personally, deliberately, visibly. Each household head took hyssop, dipped it in the basin of blood, and struck it upon the doorposts and lintel. The blood formed the shape of a cross on the doorframe, though none yet understood what that symbol would come to mean.
Inside or outside—that was the only question that mattered when the destroyer passed through. The wealthiest Egyptian firstborn died while the poorest Israelite slave lived, because blood marked one door and not the other. God did not examine the inhabitants’ education, status, or even their righteousness. He looked for one thing only: the blood.
What happened to the blood beneath their feet? It was trampled as the family entered and exited their house. This detail would later carry solemn warning: “Of how much sorer punishment, suppose ye, shall he be thought worthy, who hath trodden under foot the Son of God, and hath counted the blood of the covenant, wherewith he was sanctified, an unholy thing?” (Hebrews 10:29).
Christ Our Passover
The New Testament makes the connection unmistakable: “Christ our passover is sacrificed for us” (1 Corinthians 5:7). Every detail of that night in Egypt finds its fulfillment in Christ.
Jesus is the Lamb without blemish. Peter writes that we are redeemed “with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot: Who verily was foreordained before the foundation of the world” (1 Peter 1:19-20). For three years of public ministry, Jesus was examined by enemies, disciples, and crowds. They could find no fault in Him—not the Pharisees with their accusations, not Pilate with his questions, not Judas who knew Him intimately.
Jesus entered Jerusalem on the tenth day of Nisan—the very day when Passover lambs were selected throughout Israel. For four days, He was examined in the temple, questioned by Sadducees, Pharisees, and scribes. Each test only confirmed His perfection. On the fourteenth day, at the exact hour when Passover lambs were being slain throughout Jerusalem, Jesus breathed His last on the cross.
Not one of His bones was broken. Though the soldiers broke the legs of the two thieves to hasten death, when they came to Jesus, He had already died. “These things were done, that the scripture should be fulfilled, A bone of him shall not be broken” (John 19:36).
The Blood That Speaks
The blood of Christ speaks—but it speaks better things than the blood of Abel (Hebrews 12:24). Abel’s blood cried out for vengeance; Christ’s blood cries out for mercy. The blood on the doorpost declared that death had already visited this house—an innocent substitute had died so the guilty might live.
When God sees the blood of Christ applied to a sinner’s life, His justice is satisfied. Not ignored, not overlooked, but satisfied. The penalty has been paid. Death has already occurred. The destroyer passes over because the execution has already taken place—at Calvary, where the Lamb of God was slain.
“When I see the blood, I will pass over you.” God did not say, “When I see your sincerity,” or “When I see your reformation,” or “When I see your religious devotion.” The only basis for deliverance was blood—the blood of an innocent lamb dying in the place of the guilty.
Applying the Blood Today
The Passover lamb has been slain. Christ, our Passover, was sacrificed nearly two thousand years ago. His blood is sufficient for every sinner who has ever lived or ever will live. But sufficiency is not the same as application. The blood must be applied personally, by faith, to your own life.
Israel could not be saved by their neighbor’s lamb. Each household needed its own sacrifice, its own blood on its own doorpost. So too, you cannot ride into heaven on your parents’ faith, your spouse’s devotion, or your pastor’s prayers. The blood of Christ must be applied to you—personally, deliberately, definitively.
How is the blood applied? By faith. “Being justified freely by his grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus: Whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation through faith in his blood” (Romans 3:24-25). Faith looks to Christ, trusts His sacrifice, and claims His blood as the only ground of acceptance before a holy God.
The Feast That Follows
Salvation was not merely escape from death—it was entrance into a feast. Inside the blood-marked house, the family gathered to eat the lamb that had died for them. The Passover was not a funeral but a celebration, not a fast but a feast. The very lamb whose death delivered them now nourished them for the journey ahead.
So believers feed on Christ. “Whoso eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, hath eternal life; and I will raise him up at the last day” (John 6:54). We feast on His Word, commune at His table, draw strength from His presence. The Christ who died to save us now lives to sustain us.
The bitter herbs reminded Israel that deliverance came through suffering—the lamb’s suffering, but also their own years of bondage. The unleavened bread spoke of haste and purity, of leaving behind the leaven of Egypt. The meal was eaten standing, staff in hand, sandals on feet—ready to move when God commanded.
The Exodus Begins
At midnight, the destroyer passed through Egypt. “And Pharaoh rose up in the night, he, and all his servants, and all the Egyptians; and there was a great cry in Egypt; for there was not a house where there was not one dead” (Exodus 12:30). Every household without the blood discovered its firstborn lifeless. Egypt’s pride was shattered in a single night.
Pharaoh summoned Moses and Aaron before dawn: “Rise up, and get you forth from among my people, both ye and the children of Israel; and go, serve the LORD, as ye have said” (Exodus 12:31). After four centuries of bondage, Israel walked out of Egypt—free, loaded with Egyptian gold and silver, their heads held high. The blood had purchased their freedom.
This was no gradual improvement in conditions, no slow climb from slavery to servitude to citizenship to freedom. In one night, their status changed completely. Slaves became a nation. Property became pilgrims. The condemned became the delivered. So it is with all who shelter under the blood of Christ—justified, declared righteous, transferred from the kingdom of darkness to the kingdom of God’s dear Son.
The Perpetual Memorial
God commanded Israel to observe the Passover annually, forever: “And this day shall be unto you for a memorial; and ye shall keep it a feast to the LORD throughout your generations; ye shall keep it a feast by an ordinance for ever” (Exodus 12:14). For fifteen centuries, Israel rehearsed this drama—selecting the lamb, applying the blood, eating the meal, remembering the deliverance.
Each year, children would ask, “What mean ye by this service?” And fathers would answer, “It is the sacrifice of the LORD’s passover, who passed over the houses of the children of Israel in Egypt, when he smote the Egyptians, and delivered our houses” (Exodus 12:26-27). Generation after generation learned that salvation comes through substitutionary blood sacrifice.
Then, in an upper room in Jerusalem, at yet another Passover meal, Jesus took the bread and the cup and gave them new meaning: “This is my body which is given for you: this do in remembrance of me. . . . This cup is the new testament in my blood, which is shed for you” (Luke 22:19-20). The shadow gave way to the substance. The picture yielded to the Person. Christ is our Passover.
The Gospel Application
The message of Passover is the message of the gospel. Judgment is coming—as surely as the destroyer came through Egypt, so the judgment of God approaches every soul. “It is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment” (Hebrews 9:27). No one escapes by denial, delay, or diversion.
But God has provided a Lamb. Before the judgment fell on Egypt, God provided the means of escape. Before the final judgment falls on this world, God has provided His Son. “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:16).
The blood must be applied. Christ died for the sins of the whole world, yet not all will be saved. The lamb died in Egypt, yet some households had no blood on their doors. It is not enough to know about Christ, admire Christ, or even believe that Christ existed and died. His blood must be applied to your soul through personal faith.
The question that echoes from that ancient night still resounds today: Is the blood on your door? When God looks at your life, does He see the blood of His Son covering your sins? Have you trusted Christ as your Passover Lamb, whose death delivers you from the judgment you deserve?
“When I see the blood, I will pass over you.” These words offer either the greatest comfort or the greatest warning imaginable. For those under the blood, they promise complete security. For those without the blood, they declare certain doom. The Lamb has been slain. The blood is available. The question is whether you will apply it by faith before the night of judgment arrives.