| Christian Life and Doctrine | March 1977 |
Sacrificed for Us
ABOUT four thousand years ago an old man arose early one morning, awakened his young son, and together they started on a three-day journey which took them into the “land of Moriah.” Accompanying them were two young servants of the household. There was a purpose back of that trek over what was probably for the most part a trail-less wasteland with few inhabitants. But this purpose was known in full only to the father. They did not go empty-handed, for they took with them the necessary equipment for the offering of sacrifice, such as the wood and the fire.
As the journey’s end drew near the party halted, and the old man instructed his young servants to remain behind while he and his son went on farther to the place where the sacrifice was to be offered. The boy carried the wood, and the father carried the fire and the knife; but there was something about the whole adventure that was puzzling. They were going to offer sacrifice. That the boy knew. But they had no sacrifice to offer. Finally he made bold to speak to his father about it. Observing that they had the wood and the fire, he inquired, “Where is the lamb for the burnt offering?” The father’s simple answer was, “My son, God will provide himself a lamb for a burnt offering.”—Gen. 22:5-8
This father and beloved son were Abraham and Isaac. God had asked Abraham to offer Isaac as a burnt offering, but Isaac had not yet been advised of this. Abraham, with an ache in his heart, was keeping this information to himself, not wishing to impose a long, drawn-out period of suffering upon his boy. His statement that God would provide a lamb was an expression of his implicit faith. Paul explains that Abraham believed God would raise Isaac from the dead—and he did, in a figurative sense, for Isaac was restored to his father from the very jaws of death.
Abraham demonstrated his faithful obedience, and we find Isaac on the altar ready to be slain, his father with knife poised to be plunged into the throbbing heart of that miracle child. But just as the cords and muscles tightened to strike that fatal blow, Abraham heard his name called; and, turning around to investigate, he found himself face to face with an angel, who drew his attention to a lamb caught in a nearby thicket. This was the lamb which God provided, and Abraham was instructed to use it as a substitute for Isaac on the altar of sacrifice.
To the casual reader who is unacquainted with the plan of God for human redemption and salvation this may seem no more than a weird tale handed down from ancient tradition, but to the Christian it is a story with a vital meaning. God had made a wonderful promise to Abraham—a promise which, after the patriarch showed his willingness to offer his son as a burnt offering, God confirmed by his oath. The promise was that through Abraham’s seed all the families of the earth would be blessed. But there was something which stood in the way of that blessing. It was sin, and its penalty, death.
Before the people could be blessed there had to be an atonement for sin. The “seed” through which the blessing was to come must die as a sacrifice, and in the story of Abraham offering his son Isaac we have a luminous illustration of a coming glorious reality when the Heavenly Father himself would give his own Son Jesus for the sins of the whole world. The lamb which God provided to be sacrificed in lieu of Isaac foreshadows “the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world.”—John 1:29
Another Picture
Abraham had great faith in God, but he died without seeing the complete fulfillment of the promises made to him. Isaac was the natural “seed” of promise, but he was also a type of the heavenly seed. The greater seed was to be Christ and, associated with him, the church, who, like Isaac, are “the children of the promise.” (Gal. 3:16,29; 4:28) Isaac also died, and the promise was passed on to his son Jacob.
By a strange sequence of circumstances, including the selling of Joseph into slavery in Egypt, all the natural descendants of Abraham through Isaac were finally held captive in Egypt. They were burdened under their taskmasters and longed for deliverance until finally, in the Lord’s providence, Moses was sent to them, and under his leadership their Exodus from Egypt and from Egyptian bondage was effected. This was accomplished, however, only by the direct intervention of God on their behalf, an intervention that was manifested by miracles.
Because Pharaoh refused to grant liberty to the Hebrews, one plague after another was visited upon him and his people, the Egyptians. There were ten plagues in all, and not until the tenth did the ruler of Egypt actually grant the Israelites the privilege of leaving the country. It was immediately following the tenth plague that the historical Exodus of the Hebrews occurred.
In connection with the tenth plague we are furnished with another picture of the importance of blood in the divine plan of salvation. The plague brought the death of Egypt’s firstborn, from the firstborn of Pharaoh down to the firstborn of the poorest laborer. An arrangement was made by God whereby the firstborn of Israel could escape death. It was the provision of the blood—the blood of the passover lamb.
It is probably one of the best-known stories in the Bible, but as a rule its full significance is overlooked. Through Moses the Lord instructed that each family of the Israelites was to take a lamb into the house on the tenth day of the first month, keep it until the fourteenth day, when it was to be slain and the blood sprinkled on the lintels and doorposts of the house. During that same night the lamb itself was to be roasted and eaten by the family. In the case of small families, two or more could come together for the occasion. They were to stand while eating the lamb and be dressed with staff in hand, ready to go on the march; for the following day they were to leave Egypt. The Lord explained that where the blood was sprinkled according to instructions the firstborn would not be killed.—Exod. 12; Num. 33:3
Standing by itself, and unrelated to the divine plan as a whole, this arrangement for the deliverance of Israel from Egyptian bondage would probably seem strange; but when given its proper place in the whole galaxy of illustrations which point forward to the blood of the Redeemer and Savior of the world, it is both beautiful and inspiring. Like the story of Abraham and Isaac, it is mentioned in the New Testament and its significance suggested.
The Apostle Paul speaks of “the church of the firstborn, which are written in heaven,” (Heb. 12:23) and also of “Christ our passover,” who, he declares, “is sacrificed for us.” (I Cor. 5:7) The word church in the New Testament is a translation of the Greek word ekklesia, which means “called out,” or “selected.” The church of the firstborn, then, is a class called out, or selected, from the world, and brought under the special protection of the blood of Jesus, the real Passover Lamb, prior to the deliverance of the whole world, as represented by the deliverance of all Israel from Egyptian bondage.
After the Israelites left Egypt, the entire tribe of Levi was chosen by God in place of the firstborn members of each family. These became the servants of the people in all matters pertaining to God. So the church of the firstborn are revealed to be the servants of the people. Together with Jesus, this class will be the channel through which God will bestow his promised blessings of life upon a sin-sick and dying world during the coming times of restitution. It is for this that the world is waiting today—waiting to be delivered from bondage to sin and death, and from the great taskmaster, Satan.
The passover night in Egypt foreshadowed the entire Gospel Age. It has been a nighttime indeed! Darkness has covered the earth, and gross darkness the people. But the morning will come and, with it, a great deliverance. And this deliverance, just as was the case with Israel, depends upon the salvation from death of the firstborn. Just as in the type, so now, this passing over of the firstborn is brought about through the blood of the Lamb—“the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world.”
A Perpetual Memorial
The Israelites were commanded to commemorate this great event each year. On the fourteenth day of their first month they were to slay a lamb for the passover. It was important for them to do this because it served as a reminder of the mighty deliverance God had wrought for them and how his outstretched arm had been over them in that time of their great need.
And the Jews did commemorate the passover fairly regularly. In fact, in a distorted form, they still keep the passover, although the ceremony is now corrupted by the traditions of their elders. When Jesus, the foretold Messiah, came to the Jews nearly two thousand years ago, they were continuing to celebrate the passover; but they understood practically nothing of its typical significance. John the Baptist seemed to understand what the lamb foreshadowed, for it was he who said of Jesus, “Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world.”
Much had been foretold concerning Jesus. He was to be a powerful King. He was to be a Judge of all nations, and a wise “Counselor of the people.” (Isa. 9:6) His glory was to excel that of Solomon. But when he came, while he was wise and kind and it was said of him that gracious words proceeded out of his mouth, he did not exercise rulership. He was not a Judge of the people, nor did they recognize him as their Counselor. He was, just as John the Baptist said, a “Lamb”—a Lamb to be sacrificed for the sins of the world.
The entire period of Jesus’ ministry was characterized by the sacrificial service which he rendered on behalf of the people. The common people heard him gladly and rejoiced in the blessings of health and life extended to many of them. But their religious rulers were bitterly opposed to him. By them he was despised and rejected, and they plotted to kill him, to lead him as a “lamb to the slaughter.”—Isa. 53:7
There were time features in the plan of God, and not until midway in the fourth year of the Master’s ministry did he permit his enemies to arrest and kill him. He was to be the antitype of the passover lamb, and it was essential that his blood be shed on the fourteenth day of Israel’s first month. This is known as the month of Nisan. It begins with the first new moon after the spring equinox. When this time drew near in that momentous year of the divine plan, Jesus announced his intention of going to Jerusalem, where he expected to be arrested and put to death.
From the time Jesus made this announcement his disciples were more or less bewildered. They expected him to be a great King and to establish a powerful, worldwide kingdom. But what could a dead Christ do? Peter remonstrated with Jesus, saying, “Be it far from thee, Lord.” (Matt. 16:22) But Jesus would not be turned aside from what he knew to be the divine will for him. He had come to die for the church of the firstborn and for the whole world, and he intended to finish the work his Heavenly Father had given him to do.—I John 2:2
On one occasion he said to his disciples, “My flesh … I … give for the life of the world,” and he told them that unless they ate his flesh and drank his blood, they could have no life in them. (John 6:51-56) Only dimly did they comprehend what this meant, although Jesus explained, “The flesh profiteth nothing”; that is, I do not mean that you should eat my literal flesh. “The words that I speak unto you,” Jesus said, “they are spirit, and they are life.” (John 6:63) In the light of further teachings on the subject, we see this to mean that by obedience to the “words” of life, which embody the divine will for our forgiveness and the acceptance of our sacrifice, we appropriate to ourselves the merit of Jesus’ broken body and thereby obtain justification; and as we drink the wine, the symbol of his blood, we picture our willingness to share his death. So, like our Lord, it is by a sacrificial death that we receive life.
But this could not be understood prior to the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. The disciples were not thinking of sacrifice. They were looking for the glory of the kingdom and hoping to share in that kingdom. Because of this, the last few days of Jesus’ earthly ministry were trying ones indeed for them. Their lack of discernment led finally to a partial deserting of their Master in the time of his greatest need.
The Upper Room
The Jewish day begins at sundown and lasts until sundown the next evening. Sometime during the thirteenth of Nisan Jesus gave instructions concerning the necessary preparations for the passover, due to be celebrated that evening. Previously, it would seem, he had made arrangements with one of his friends to use an upper room in his house, and he told the disciples how they could locate the proper place.
When the evening came, Jesus and the twelve went to this room, and there they ate the passover. The feeling was tense in the hearts of the disciples that night. It seemed evident to them that tragedy was in the air. “One of you will deny me,” Jesus said to them. And with one accord they asked, “Is it I?” There was only one who knew to whom Jesus referred, and that was Judas, the betrayer. The fact that all the others asked, “Is it I?” indicates that they were so wrought up over the events of the past few days and by Jesus’ attitude in the upper room they were not able to trust themselves. Something was tugging at their very souls, and they were not sure what they might be drawn into doing under the strain.
That they had not as yet grasped the idea of sacrifice and its relationship to themselves as followers of Jesus is revealed by their wrangling over who would be greatest in the kingdom. What a place that was for a question of this kind to intrude itself! But Jesus was not disturbed by their lack of understanding. Instead, he used the occasion as an opportunity to give his disciples a much-needed object lesson in humility and the true spirit of sacrifice and service. He washed their feet and explained that the one who would be greatest among them would be their servant.
And then Jesus asked how many swords they had. Learning that there were two swords in the company, the Master explained that that would be sufficient for what he had in mind. The Passover Supper finished, he took some of the unleavened bread which remained and some of the wine and passed it to his disciples, saying, “Take, eat, this is my body. … Drink, … this is my blood.” (Matt. 26:26-30) Whether or not they then remembered what Jesus had previously said to them concerning the eating of his flesh and the drinking of his blood we do not know; but even though they may have remembered his former remarks, they still did not understand what Jesus meant.
No, not until the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost was it possible for any of Jesus’ disciples to comprehend the meaning of what he said to them that night. They did not then know that his body was to be broken in death and his blood poured out. They did not know that this was in order that they might receive justification through the sacrifice of his life. Still less did they understand that they were to have the privilege of suffering and dying with their Master. So, while they ate the unleavened bread and drank the wine which Jesus offered to them, they were too dull of understanding to realize that in doing so they were symbolizing their dependence for life everlasting upon his sacrificed life and, to attain to this, their own willingness to be baptized into the likeness of his death.
Gethsemane
They sang a hymn and left that upper room—left in the night—and wended their way out of the city, across the brook Kidron, until they came to the Garden of Gethsemane. They were not altogether silent during that weird journey. Jesus told them that they would all be offended that night because of him. In reply the disciples affirmed their loyalty to the Master, and Peter boasted that even though all the others forsook Jesus he would not do so, that he was willing and ready to die for him. And Peter meant this, as he later demonstrated when he attempted to rescue Jesus from the mob by the use of his sword.
Reaching the garden, Jesus took three of his most loved disciples—Peter, James, and John—apart from the others and asked them to watch with him. Then he went a little farther in order to be alone with his Heavenly Father, and there he prayed. The supreme test of his loyalty to the divine plan had come. His “land of Moriah” had been reached. The circumstances were all in readiness for the consummation of his sacrifice. Unlike Isaac in this respect, he had no occasion to ask, “Where is the lamb for the sacrifice?” For Jesus knew that HE was that Lamb.
The question now was whether or not Jesus would willingly yield to the providences of his Father which were destined to slay him—not in a blaze of glorious martrydom, but in shameful ignominy upon the cross, with his name cast out as evil and the great realities of his life contradicted by sinners. So out of that loving, but now well-nigh bursting heart of his came the cry to his God, “If it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done.”—Matt. 26:39; Luke 22:42
“Not my will, but thine, be done.” These were the words which revealed the Master’s final victory and proved him to be the One foretold by the prophet who was to be “led as a lamb to the slaughter” and who, as a sheep before her shearers, would be “dumb,” that is, offering no resistance.
Judas had informed Jesus’ enemies of the Master’s movements, and a mob was now approaching Gethsemane determined to arrest and kill the Prince of Life, the One whose only crime had been that of doing good. The details of the arrest are well-known. Peter used his sword, and the Master reproved him for such rash action. This was a good lesson for Peter, and it also demonstrated to all concerned that Jesus gave himself up voluntarily, that his friends were armed and willing to fight for him had he permitted them to do so. This was probably the reason he made sure there were swords in the company.
Then followed the trial before the high priest and before Pilate. He was condemned for claiming to be the Son of God and a King. Little did the wicked hearts of his accusers realize how blessedly true were the great facts of his divine sonship and kingship! Few indeed, since then, even among his professed followers, have been able to confess with the spirit and with understanding that Jesus was indeed the “Son of God.” And how few have understood the full scope of his kingship—that he is to be the King of kings, the Ruler over all nations!
His enemies obtained Pilate’s consent to kill the Master, and he was crucified—crucified while his enemies and the curious looked on and mocked. “If he is the Son of God, let him come down from the cross,” they cried. And again, “He has saved others; let him save himself.” (Matt. 27:39-43; Mark 15:29-32; Luke 23:35-37) What they did not understand was that the Lamb of God was voluntarily dying in order to provide salvation for them. Jesus had saved “others” temporarily, but he was not satisfied with this. As his Heavenly Father loved the whole world, so did he; and he was dying in order that all, even his enemies, might have an opportunity to obtain eternal salvation during the times of restitution.
“It is finished,” the Master cried, and committed his life into the hands of his Father, the eternal Life-giver. The Lamb had been slain—the Lamb which God provided. A loving Father had offered his beloved Son in sacrifice. The blood of the antitypical Passover Lamb was now shed. Perhaps the very angel who had stayed the arm of Abraham, preventing him from thrusting the knife into the young heart of Isaac, watched Jesus die upon the cross; but he was not permitted to interfere with that death. There was no literal lamb now that could be offered as a substitute. Jesus, the Lamb of God, himself bore our sins, for God “laid on him the iniquity of us all.”—Isa. 53:6
The upper room scene, the Gethsemane experiences, the trials before the high priest and other authorities, and finally the crucifixion, all occurred on the fourteenth of Nisan, that is, from sundown to sundown. Thus the typical passover, so far as God was concerned, was brought definitely to an end. There was no need that it be further commemorated, for the antitypical Passover Lamb had been slain. “Jesus, … by the grace of God tasted death for every man.”—Heb. 2:9
But Jesus had instituted something new. It was not a new passover, but a simple ordinance, or service, to help his disciples in every part of the age to remember his death, the benefits they derive therefrom, and their privilege of dying with him. This service consists simply of partaking of a morsel of unleavened bread and a sip of the fruit of the vine—the bread representing his broken body, and the wine his shed blood.
In the Early Church this ceremony was kept yearly as Jesus requested, and the apostle explained that in doing so it was showing forth the Lord’s death. This was to be continued “till he come.” (I Cor. 11:26) As the partaking of the emblems signifies our fellowship, or common union, in the sacrifice of Christ, it is appropriate that the memorial be continued as long as any member of his body is still in the flesh, hence until he “come in his glory,” at which time those who faithfully suffer and die with him will be sharing his glory.
And now we are nearing that time. Already he has come and has served “meat in due season” to the household of faith still in the flesh. Already he has come as the Chief Reaper in the wheat harvest at the end of the age. Already his power is being manifested in the crumbling thrones of earth. The hour draws on apace when the last member of his mystical body will pass from this earthly scene to join him in glory. What a wonderful time it is for the Lord’s people to be living!
And now once again on the fourteenth of Nisan (April 1, this year) little companies of Jesus’ disciples in many parts of the world will come together to “show his death.” (I Cor. 11:26) But this year, more than at any previous time, we can do this, standing as it were, with staff in hand, for the evidences are certain that we are living at the very threshold of the kingdom. How true now are those well-known words of the apostle, “The time is short”! (I Cor. 7:29) May the realization of this cause the memorial season this year to be one in which we will renew our vows unto the Lord and resolve to pay them more faithfully than ever.
How grand, as we partake of the emblems, to realize our blessed association with Jesus! How thrilling to know that we are participating in the antitype of that which was foreshadowed by God’s dealings with Abraham and Isaac, and with the Israelites at the time of the Exodus! God plagued the Egyptians back there, and now the world is being plagued in preparation for the great deliverance to be wrought when the thousand-year reign of Christ and the church begins!
Meanwhile, as the church of the firstborn, we are under the protection of the blood and are being prepared to serve the people, in cooperation with the antitypical Moses, in rescuing all mankind from the thralldom of sin and death. Brethren, may we appreciate our privileges more fully, and may it be with hearts filled with rejoicing, yet in great solemnity and determination, that once more we symbolically eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink his blood, shed for us.