This Day Will Be A Permanent Memorial -- Exodus 12:14

“Now this day will be a memorial to you, and you shall celebrate it as a feast to the Lord; throughout your generations you are to celebrate it as a permanent ordinance.”
 

Before we begin deliberations on this passage, let me state that a friend of mine provided me with an interesting verse about the question we raised concerning the possibility of non-Israelites escaping Egypt in the Exodus. Deuteronomy 29:11 says that there were “alien” people within their camps.  Albeit we cannot say for certain whether they came from Egypt or joined them along the way in the wilderness, Exodus 12:19 which we will study shortly, also uses that word implying that there were ‘aliens’ among the Hebrews from the start.  All this gives us more data for our reflection.  Finally, some think the word “rabble” in Numbers 11:24 that we will come to later or the reference to a “mixed multitude” later in this chapter that we are studying here (Exodus 12) is a reference to non-Israelites.  However, it is also possible it is simply a reference to the different types of people from within the Hebrew ranks.  The point being, we do not know.

Now let us return to Exodus 12:14.  God wanted this day, this Passover feast and night, to be a memorial to all His children.  He wanted it celebrated as a “feast”.  It was to be a permanent celebration.  And it was to be celebrated by all the generations that came after those that left Egypt during the Exodus.

I started thinking about my celebration of the Passover and Easter.  First of all, I consider myself as a Christian to be a “spiritual son” of Abraham (see Galatians 3:7).  Secondly, I was born in Greece and even after coming to Canada as a child, we continued celebrating the major tradition of Greeks having fresh lamb at Easter time.  It seems, however, that over the years, for one reason or another, Christians seem to have moved away from the celebration of the Passover or Easter meal celebration.  It may be that Christmas has become a bigger holiday in North America and taken over.  It may also be that more Christians are failing to recognize their spiritual roots with Abraham, Moses, and the Jews.  Sadly to say, it may also be as one brother told me recently after I had taught on our connection with Israel, that some of us still have some anti-Semitic tendencies.  Perhaps it is time to rethink how we ourselves celebrate Easter.

I note two very strong verbs in this verse.  First, this day “will be” a memorial.  Secondly, “you shall celebrate it”.  No doubt, many can argue that this is all meant for the Jews, and not for us today.  Today we have our Communion Supper and we celebrate that regularly – some annually, some monthly, some weekly because Jesus said “when-so-ever you do it, do it in remembrance of Me.”  He did not give us a command as to when to do it.  We have the freedom to choose the frequency.  And perhaps they that argue that what is talked about here in Exodus 12 is only meant for the Jews, are right.

But let us take a little different perspective.  It may be perfectly all right for us today to neglect this feast celebration God commanded of the Hebrews exiting Egypt three thousand years ago.  But would it be wrong to actually celebrate?  I believe not.  Let me explain.

First, the God of Moses and Aaron is the same God to whom you and I belong.  And our God does not change.  If He wanted that for His children then, but may not demand it of us now – is that a reason for us to neglect following it?  I think not.  You see, God had a purpose for demanding it of His children.  That purpose may well have to do with the idea that we are mere mortals who tend to forget, tend to stray, from remembering what God has done and is doing for us.  We need these celebrations to help remember our history, or in our case, the history of our “spiritual ancestors”.

Secondly, I believe we are indeed part of the “generations” of those very people, albeit “spiritual generations”.  We were grafted into those Jewish roots, the roots of the Children of Israel. (Romans 11:17-21)

Thirdly, I cannot help but believe that when we celebrate the Passover, or Easter in our case, appropriately “with a feast” and with thanksgiving, we make God glad.  This is no different than when a son who has gone to the big city to get educated and become someone in his own mind, returns to his parents’ village and sees his mom and dad stomping on grapes to make wine.  He takes his shoes off, rolls up his pants, washes his feet, and joins in.  His parents are ecstatic.  It is human nature to have your children, even though they have learned new ways to do things, join you in your ways.  And I believe God has a bit of that desire too, if we have it.  After all, we were created in His image.

As an aside, you may wish to take some time to learn about the symbolism in the way the Jewish Passover Meal is celebrated.  You can simply Google that on the Internet.  It is well worth it.

There is a phrase worth noting in this verse.  It is “to the Lord.”  Our celebration of this event is to be feast “to the Lord.”  It is for His honor, not for ours.  Can we really neglect it?  And you will note that it was important enough to God to make it an “ordinance” --  a decree, rule, order, law, edict, dictum, etc.  Get the picture? 

So how do you celebrate Easter?   I know for one, I’ll be doing it a little different come next year.  Maybe I can even talk my daughter or son-in-law into doing at least a leg of lamb on the barbecue.  And as I eat it a little of it with family and friends, I will remember my spiritual ancestors and how they ate on their last night in Egypt.

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[Are you looking for a speaker at your church, your club, school, or organization? Ken is available to preach, teach, challenge, and/or motivate. Please contact us.]

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What’s a Non -Anglican, -Episcopal, -Catholic Nice Guy Like Me Doing at a “Stations of the Cross” Service?

Holy Week 2013 and I found myself in South Carolina – spending my afternoons and evenings in Murrells Inlet where my eldest daughter and her family live, and my nights and mornings in Myrtle Beach where my wife and I usually hang out when we’re down here.  For church services on Sunday, we have the privilege of attending All Saints Church, in Pawleys Island.  The Rector, and I have heard him several times, is as unashamedly evangelical as many of the pastors in the churches I would normally attend back home in Toronto, including my own.  The church follows an Anglican tradition in its services.  The weekend service I attended before writing this column I found the liturgy of Palm Sunday to be very moving.  There is something wonderful about actually participating and interacting in a service the way liturgical services go.  With that positive experience once again, I decided that I would go to the Stations of the Cross service the church held on Good Friday at 5:30 p.m.  I went alone and took my camera, having never been to one of these before and wanting to be able to share a little bit of it – even if it were through digital images -- with my wife.

The service lasted exactly one hour.  While All Saints has a good size congregation of several hundred, there were fifty to perhaps seventy-five souls at this service.  Mainly, the group was made up of folks of middle age and younger couples, with just a few children, and some singles of all ages, myself included, that day.

The service was led by the Assistant Rector with help from a Deacon, a member of the congregation as a Reader, the worship director to lead us in songs we sang, and several other volunteers who carried what appeared to be a relatively heavy cross from station to station as Jesus had done.

We started in what I believe was the second oldest of the four worship buildings on the grounds.

Anglican services in the oldest building started back in 1737 after land was bought from the person after whom Pawleys Island was named.  The rest is history.  Including a short break in conjunction with the American Revolution, the church as it now operates, has been going for 276 years.  Together we sang How Deep the Father’s Love for Us, participated in some prayers and then The Pilgrims (as we were identified in the detailed program that even an uninitiated congregant at such services such as I could easily follow) followed the cross to the First Station.   Stations were anywhere from fifty yards to about two hundred yards apart, all outside, and in path which took us nicely throughout most of the property.

At each station, we stopped and there was a reading from a person identified as the First Voice who either told us “This was the way it was” when what he read came from what we are told in Scripture, or “This was the way it might have been” when he read what church tradition believes to be true.  At each station following the reading by the First Voice, the Assistant Rector read a short (one paragraph) meditation that we could all follow along with in our programs.  Then someone else would volunteer to carry the cross to the next station.  Young and old, male and female, participated.  It was particularly a joy to see couples carrying the cross together.

 

The first seven Stations were titled as follows:
I. Jesus is Condemned to Death

II. Jesus Takes Up His Cross

III. Jesus Falls for the First Time

IV. Jesus Falls a Second Time

V. The Cross Is Laid on Simon of Cyrene

VI. Jesus Meets the Women of Jerusalem

VII. Jesus Is Stripped of His Clothes

At the eighth Station of the Cross titled, VIII. Jesus Is Nailed to the Cross, The Pilgrims sang the first three verses of Were You There?

When we finished singing, we moved on to the ninth Station, IX. Jesus Dies on the Cross.  There a crown of thorns was hung on the cross and a white cloth was draped on it before the First Voice and the Meditation was given.

Once completed, the white cloth was taken down from the cross, folded nicely and the congregants were led away from the cross, leaving it behind.  We made our way back into the old church.

There we participated in the tenth Station, X. Jesus is Laid in the Tomb.  After its First Voice and Meditation readings, we sang the fourth verse of Were You There?  Two more prayers and then The Pilgrims depart(ed) in silence.

As I left the building, thinking of all my Savior had gone through for me, I turned right (with a few others) rather than go left back to the parking lot to walk and meditate a while through the church’s beautiful cemetery where people have been buried for close to three centuries.

This “nice little non-liturgical congregant” had one of the most meaningful Good Friday services I have experienced in years.  I strongly recommend it.  For a selection of some of the readings at each Station you may wish to Google “Station of the Cross Liturgy”.  Better still make it a point to attend a similar service next year at a church that has one near you.

[Are you looking for a speaker at your church, your club, school, or organization? Ken is available to preach, teach, challenge, and/or motivate. Please contact us.]

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I Sat Next To Your Dad Today

I went to church with my wife today as usual.  It was Thanksgiving Sunday in Canada (a whole month and a week before our American friends celebrate it because Canada’s harvest periods are generally earlier than those in the United States).

As I have come to expect in the large evangelical church we attend, the worship music stirred my soul as we sang about our God.  Today it focused on His faithfulness.  The message focused on our thankfulness.  But that’s not what drove me to my laptop this time to pen these words I wanted to share with you.

You see, before the service began, we took our usual place next to a well-dressed elderly gentleman that has always said ‘hello’ to us and shook our hand.  Today was no exception.  Next to him was a lady, not related, with whom he started to share how, for whatever reason, his children who are not church attenders would not be able to spend any time with him as they were all busy with various activities – none of which related to the original reasons our Canadian Parliament and the American Congress set aside one day a year for those living in our great countries with our families, to give “thanks” to the Creator for all His blessings.

My heart broke and tears came to my eyes as I heard him say “They say they wish they could be with me, they wish they could make me happy but somehow there’s no time.”  And, “If they really wanted to make me happy, why not on a day like this or even Easter or Christmas, why not come to church with me?”  I could hear his voice break doing all he could to hold back his own tears.

My heart broke again and even more tears came to my eyes as I realized that while I was in church alone with my wife today, I knew all three of my children, their spouses, and my five grandchildren were in their respective churches in their own communities.  I knew that later in the day I would be having dinner with those that were within driving distance and a real warm phone call from those that were not.

I don’t know what your dad ended up doing today.  He had muttered that he had some kind of plans, and although they didn’t sound too sure to me, I left him with those.  But I know one thing; he would rather have been with you!  Oh well, Christmas is coming.

[Are you looking for a speaker at your church, your club, school, or organization? Ken is available to preach, teach, challenge, and/or motivate. Please contact us.]

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Happy Easter 2012

Let me just take a moment of your time today to wish you and yours a very Blessed Easter.

It seems to me that as we get older, God has a way of reaching us in a special way.   This has been quite a week for me -- the week leading up to Easter.   I was reminded several times of my shortcomings and my human nature.

It started a week ago this past Saturday.  I was out for something to eat with my wife and a friend and over some silly matter, I got  a little short and upset at a restaurant manager.  Needless to say I did not behave like a Christian and clearly felt very badly afterwards.   It is not a restaurant I had frequented before nor one I would likely return to, so I made my peace with God and with my wife and friend, and thought that would be okay.   Well, it wasn't.   The Spirit kept saying you can't do that.  You need to deal with the individual that you were upset at and towards whom you didn't act very Christ-like.   When God says something like that to you, you can't sleep very well.   Not until you've done something tangible about it.  So, the next day -- Sunday afternoon -- I sat down and did what I felt was appropriate and what would give me peace.  I wrote them a letter, and mailed it, in which I said the following . . .
"Dear __________ Downtown Toronto Manager on duty Saturday night, March 31, 2012:

I am sorry I do not know your name.  But on that night you and I had an altercation.  It was based on the fact that I felt you weren’t flexible enough with respect to a request I was making and I was most upset at the thinking of the company as a whole who would put the value of ______   ahead of having a happy customer for life.

While I still believe that to be unfortunate, that is not the reason for my writing to you.   I am writing to you to apologize for my behavior that night.  I should never have reacted the way I did.  It is not who I am or what I represent.   I make no excuses, only apologies for raising my voice, being somewhat belligerent, etc.

Please forgive me.  I do not like living my life with unfinished business, especially when I was clearly the one that left it that way.

Not only did I upset you and make things difficult for you, but I also embarrassed my wife and my friend who was there with me at the time.  But dear manager, more important to me was the fact that in some way, like the Apostle Peter of the Bible who betrayed his own Master, Jesus Christ three times in one night, I felt that I too had let Him down terribly especially as one of His followers in the way I behaved.  I have asked His forgiveness and that of my wife and friends, and I hope I have yours.

I wish you all the best in your career.  May nights like the one I caused you be extremely rare in your experience.  Again, I offer my humble apologies.  And should we meet again, I hope we will be friends."   And I signed my name, etc.

That was not easy to do, but as I was preparing for Easter, I realized it was nothing compared to what Jesus did for me.   But still, it took some thought and action on my part.  It wasn't enough to just say, "Ah gee, I'll do better next time."   No, I had to fix what I did wrong this time.

On Good Friday, I took my eight (almost 9) year old granddaughter to our Good Friday Service.  It was terrific -- both the service and being there with her.  At one point she looked up at me and wondered why I had tears in my eyes.  I was able to share with her that what we celebrate this weekend means the world to me.  I hope it does to you as well.   It is a mysterious weekend -- it integrates the darkness and sadness of death with the glory and celebration of life.    It is a free yielding of One's self to death, so that all the rest of us can be given the free gift of eternal life.   It is not something that skeptics can easily comprehend or accept.   It takes the thinking and the faith of a child to believe it.

On Saturday, yesterday, I was working away at my desk when the front doorbell rang.   I answered it and I saw a man handing me a little card he wanted me to read, or so he indicated with hand gestures.  He either was or was pretending to be deaf and dumb.   He was selling the card for any amount I would be willing to pay to help him put some food on his table, or so the card said.  He looked harmless.   He was not a derelict.   But I sent him away.   Well, that was it -- I could not get back to my work.  I felt bad -- not because I didn't give to someone who may have been taking me, but because I acted so quickly without reflecting as to whether or not there was some real need here, whether or not there was some opportunity for me to be "Jesus with skin on again".  The Spirit would not let me forget it and goodness knows I was trying hard to fight Him with every standard excuse I could think of.   This was twice now within a week that I had failed being a good representative of Christ, our Saviour.   Finally, I couldn't take it any longer.  I went into the kitchen and asked my wife for a bag and a whole bunch of various fresh fruits.  She obliged me.   By now, some time had elapsed but I could not rest.   I got into my little car and started driving up and down streets in the neighbourhood until finally I caught sight of him.  I stopped the car, went over to him, and showed him the bag, asking him if he would like it.   He was most thankful as I detected from his facial expressions and his bowed body.   What happened at that very moment was not about him.   God was just using him to get to me.  Doing what I did was about me and my relationship to God.

Later in the day, I received a difficult email from a colleague.  I wanted to react quickly with the truth.  I wanted to let them know how wrong they were.  But I knew I shouldn't.  I knew I needed to pray about it first, I needed to gather some more facts that would help the individual see that things were not the way they were describing, and I needed to think about how to bring peace to this situation rather than to add more fuel to the fire.   In short, I decided to seek Jesus for further direction in the situation.  Sometimes that comes instantaneously; sometimes He says wait.  My job is now to wait for the 'red' light to turn 'green' and proceed with Christ-like love into the intersection of humanity.

I was given yet one more chance not to blow it still later yesterday afternoon -- another chance to act with my Saviour in mind, and not with my own strengthen, expertise, wisdom.  A young girl and her father came to my door -- with all the proper papers and documents, raising money for her M.S. walkathon later this month.  The eleven year old had been doing this for several years and last year she had raised over $15,000.   I asked her "what motivates an 11 year old to be so passionate about this?"  Her reply, "my mother has M.S. and I'm doing this for her and other mothers".   I participated in the her campaign.

As I thought about that last experience during our church's Easter Sunday service this morning, I wondered how many of us have friends, relatives, neighbors, colleagues, and so on who have another form of life-destroying M.S. -- a form I call "menacing-sin".  That type of M.S. leads to death every single time unless it is dealt with appropriately.   How many do we know like that?   How passionate are we about helping them find the only Antidote that will work?

As you and I reflect on our Christian celebration of the events that took place just over 2,000 years ago -- will we make a special effort to bring the whole thing into the present, into 2012, into our relationships, into our circumstances?  Will you and I yield to the Holy Spirit's urgings in how then we should live today because of how He died "That Friday" and lived that "Easter Morning"?

Happy Easter.   Ken.

[Are you looking for a speaker at your church, your club, school, or organization? Ken is available to preach, teach, challenge, and/or motivate. Please contact us.]

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