Not a Pretty Picture

Last night, I served a Seder meal.  It was my first time ever.  I had decided I wanted to take part in this meal, rather than just to read about it. I wanted to experience some of the same traditions that Jesus, himself, would have experienced.  I wanted to follow in his footsteps.  A couple of times I was even surprised to feel tears in my eyes, as I pieced together, in my mind, the parallels of this meal with the sacrifice of the unblemished Lamb of God.  

It was also my first time preparing lamb, but it was delicious!  Along with lamb, I served the other traditional trimmings for a Passover meal such as wine or grape juice, the charoset to remember the mortar the Israelites used in their brick making, and the horseradish, which depicts the bitterness of slavery.  We dipped our parsley in the saltwater to remember tears that the Israelites cried to God in their bondage as slaves in Egypt.  We ate unleavened bread to remember the hurried way in which the meal was prepared and eaten, as the "prisoners" prepared for their escape.  

It wasn't a perfect leisurely meal, as one son was gone and one had to leave early and, and my husband said he didn't like lamb, but we talked about the symbolism of the meal and read a couple of passages about Passover. 

 When dinner was all cleaned up, I went outside and was so blessed to see a full moon - the same full moon that led the Israelites out of Egypt, and the same full moon that shone on the night that Christ was buried in the tomb, the moon that marks the LORD's appointed feasts.  The full moon was then, and is now, a symbol of deliverance!  Just as the Israelites needed to be rescued from bondage, so too, do we find ourselves enslaved in the bondage of sin and addictions.  We too, stand in need of the LORD's saving grace. 

Passover reminds me that the perfect, sinless Lamb of God took my place on the cross.  He took the pain and the rejection that belonged to me.  He died so that I can live.  The blood of Passover lambs on the doorpost of each family home protected the Isrealites from experiencing the death of the firstborns, just as the Lamb's blood on my heart saves me from certain Death. 

 In my collage, I painted the dripping red on the sides and top of the canvas.  I let paint drip like blood would have dripped from the doorposts.  Such a messy process....and yet I love the paradox of realizing that His blood is what makes us clean!  I found a flyer for a blood drive, and I added parts of that to my design, thinking of Christ as the Ultimate Blood Donor. I created matzah with paper mache, piercing it and scoring it, as I remembered the sufferings of my Savior.  It's not a pretty picture, or even a good design, but what I experienced and expressed in this piece is that this mocked and beaten "King of the Jews" is the King of My Heart.  I owe him my everything.

  

Blessed art Thou, O Lord our God, 

King of the Universe,
who brings forth the living bread from heaven. 

Blessed art Thou, O Lord our God, 

King of the Universe,
who brings forth bread from the earth.  

(....to rise again!!!)

Last night's Passover celebration was also the beginning of the seven day Feast of Unleavened Bread.  That's why we ate the flat-bread last night.  I'm not forcing this on my family, so bread is in my house, I'm just not eating it.  As this is the first day that Christ would be resting in the tomb, I am thinking of how symbolic this all is.  The One born in Bethlehem (House of Bread) was himself without the yeast of sin or any adulterations to the purity of the Word.  The Bread of Life from heaven, was laid to rest in the heart of the earth, but although he tasted death, his body did not see decay.  Because there was no leaven in Him, he would keep without spoiling.....like matzah!  



PS.  One more tidbit.  Last night I decided to change my clothes before dinner.  I wanted to dress up a little bit for the occasion.  When my husband saw me, he asked me if I was going somewhere.  I said that I wasn't. He wondered why I was wearing shoes, instead of my usual slippers.  I thought later about what an appropriate impression I had made.  Just as on the first Passover, the Israelites ate their meal in a hurry, wearing their traveling clothes, because they were ready and set to go, I too, looked like I was getting ready to go.  I guess my "costume" was just right.