Will it ever pass over?
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Over another delicious dinner cooked by Cassandra, our family took a moment to discuss the Passover as we ate. The original passover that commenced in Egypt is rich in symbolism but I don’t intend to discuss much of it. That is not what is on my mind.
I wonder if those Israelites were afraid as they huddled into their humble houses on the night of the final plague. They had done what they were asked to do and blood lined the frames of every door.
The biblical account says that the destroying angel passed over the children of Israel and took the lives of the first-born Egyptians. What a miracle! So much so that the Jews continue to celebrate the passover even to this day. Because of this miracle the Jews were set free after years of brutality and bondage.
On the night of the Passover feast, Jesus gathered with his apostles and instituted the first sacrament. He broke bread and gave wine as symbols of what he was about to do for all mankind. But what Christ did wasn’t symbolic. He suffered so that the destroying angel might pass by and not harm us.
Why then do I feel sometimes like the destroying angel is knocking at my door and doesn’t seem to be passing by? Some days it feels like his pounding will break through the door and destroy me.
I have taken the sacrament and taken Christ’s name upon me and try to keep my covenants the best I can. It’s true that I stumble and stagger along the path sometimes but I’ve always felt like my face has been pointed toward Zion.
People love to speak of a loving and merciful Jesus but why do I feel like the fact that the destroying angel won’t seem to pass by me is penance, punishment or the justice of Jesus for some failing or imperfection? Do only the perfect receive his mercy?
How long does one wait upon the Lord? Or am I meant to just take what I deserve and let the destroying angel come in and do his worst? Oh God where art thou is a recurring theme these days except I haven’t heard any “my son, peace be unto thy soul.”
It is written that there is no peace for the wicked. I rarely feel peace so therefore by way of reason I must conclude that I am wicked. I suppose we all are sinners in one way or another, but why do some sinners seem to experience more peace than others?
But I hang on. Wait on. Trusting in the God that has been preached to me from pulpits everywhere from Dundee, Scotland to Huntington, West Virginia. Perhaps the Angel will pass. Perhaps that banging will become the gentle knocks of the Savior. But I fear that I won’t trust opening the door to anyone, regardless of who is knocking. It isn’t always easy to open up and let anyone in, including Jesus. And he will never impose himself in my heart and mind, I have to let him in.
Anyway… these are just some of the thoughts and feelings that rattle around this mind of mine. I hope Easter will be a peaceful one. Hopefully you will experience your own personal passover, but if not, you are welcome to wait with me until they come.
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