"The blood shall be a sign for you, upon the houses where you are; and when I
see the blood, I will pass over you." (Exodus 12:13; NKJ.)
I knew about this Scripture from Exodus my whole life. It was part of my
Jewish heritage. It wasn't until my eyes were opened, only recently, that I
understood the very prophetic meaning of it.
In synagogue, I had always heard some vague stories about prophets. To be
honest, they sort of scared me. I knew about the empty chair reserved for
Elijah, at the Passover dinner. I knew about the opening of the door, after
dinner, to see if Elijah had arrived. I particularly didn't like this tradition.
After all, wasn't Elijah a ghost?
So, for many years, I kept my people's stories of prophets folded away in the
attic boxes of my mind. The boxes were covered with the thick dust of our
busy world. Who wanted to think about the prophets, anyway? Their
prophecies were also covered in the dust of many centuries.
Not long ago, I decided to take a course, 'Prophecy of the Jewish Holidays' at
a local church. I had started attending church, although I hadn't accepted
Christ Jesus as my Savior.
At the time I thought, "This class will be a breeze!"
Mighty winds would be a better description. The first night of class, I was
totally perplexed. I kept squinting, drawing my brows together, and nodding
my head - in a pretense of understanding. I had already bought the textbook,
and written in it. I could hardly return it, and someone had just given me a
plastic name tag. Oy, vey.
So, every Thursday night, I'd grab my Jewish Holidays book, and walk thoughtfully
across the church parking lot. I'd be shaking my head, and thinking, "What in the
world are those folks in class talking about? Am I just really stupid, or
It was something, alright. I just hadn't cried, "Ah, ha!" yet. Actually, the
"Ah, ha!" didn't come until I was in the middle of the class - for the third time.
At the end of the first eleven weeks, I was still befuddled, but had begun to
feel a little intrigued. Why did the instructor keep going back and forth
between the Old and New Testaments? What was she trying to uncover?
Slowly, very slowly, the mist before my eyes began to evaporate. The mist
was quite thick. After all, it was centuries and centuries old. It was built up
with the vapor of suspicion, belligerence, racial tensions, and sadly, prejudice.
Human prejudice is manmade, and not God made. It is uglier than the most putrid
pile of rotting fish, rancid in the early morning sun. It is more malicious and
empty than the eyes of an attacking shark, at sea. It is more universal than the
fear and anger, one feels, upon watching CNN. And, like the television we're so
riveted on, it is manmade. It's rancid stench of death is everywhere.
The mist began to disperse, a little, during my third sitting of the class's discussion
of the first Passover. The teacher was presenting the chapter of Exodus. I had
always been vague about all of those plagues. I knew there was something about
frogs, bad water, and grasshoppers. The last part, however, about swiping lamb's
blood over the doorposts, had always been memorable. I never liked it; it was
In class one night, my eyes popped open. Could it be that the blood of the lamb,
on the Hebrew's doors, was connected to the Blood of the Lamb? My heart
began to beat faster. I wanted to raise my hand, but was afraid of looking
stupid. I just sat there, brows furrowed, chewing on my thumbnail.
A year later, I continue to consider such a prophecy. A Precious Lamb was born,
His Blood was shed, and those who have covered their spiritual doors with it,
are the ones whom God will recognize, and pass over His Judgment of spiritual
Have I finally gotten it? It frightens me. Because, if this is the Truth, then
many of our brothers and sisters, on earth, have decaying, warped, and
Shouldn't we be letting them know how to secure their families - in the eyes of
God? What are we waiting for?
And, we are waiting, aren't we?
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