1 The Lord said to Moses, “Yet one plague more I will bring upon Pharaoh and upon Egypt. Afterward he will let you go from here. When he lets you go, he will drive you away completely. 2 Speak now in the hearing of the people, that they ask, every man of his neighbor and every woman of her neighbor, for silver and gold jewelry.”

3 And the Lord gave the people favor in the sight of the Egyptians. Moreover, the man Moses was very great in the land of Egypt, in the sight of Pharaoh’s servants and in the sight of the people. 4 So Moses said, “Thus says the Lord: ‘About midnight I will go out in the midst of Egypt, 5 and every firstborn in the land of Egypt shall die, from the firstborn of Pharaoh who sits on his throne, even to the firstborn of the slave girl who is behind the handmill, and all the firstborn of the cattle. 6 There shall be a great cry throughout all the land of Egypt, such as there has never been, nor ever will be again. 7 But not a dog shall growl against any of the people of Israel, either man or beast, that you may know that the Lord makes a distinction between Egypt and Israel.’ 8 And all these your servants shall come down to me and bow down to me, saying, ‘Get out, you and all the people who follow you.’ And after that I will go out.” And he went out from Pharaoh in hot anger. 9 Then the Lord said to Moses, “Pharaoh will not listen to you, that my wonders may be multiplied in the land of Egypt.”

10 Moses and Aaron did all these wonders before Pharaoh, and the Lord hardened Pharaoh’s heart, and he did not let the people of Israel go out of his land. (Exodus 11:1–10, ESV)

1 The Lord said to Moses and Aaron in the land of Egypt, 2 “This month shall be for you the beginning of months. It shall be the first month of the year for you. 3 Tell all the congregation of Israel that on the tenth day of this month every man shall take a lamb according to their fathers’ houses, a lamb for a household. 4 And if the household is too small for a lamb, then he and his nearest neighbor shall take according to the number of persons; according to what each can eat you shall make your count for the lamb. 5 Your lamb shall be without blemish, a male a year old. You may take it from the sheep or from the goats, 6 and you shall keep it until the fourteenth day of this month, when the whole assembly of the congregation of Israel shall kill their lambs at twilight.

7 “Then they shall take some of the blood and put it on the two doorposts and the lintel of the houses in which they eat it. 8 They shall eat the flesh that night, roasted on the fire; with unleavened bread and bitter herbs they shall eat it. 9 Do not eat any of it raw or boiled in water, but roasted, its head with its legs and its inner parts. 10 And you shall let none of it remain until the morning; anything that remains until the morning you shall burn. 11 In this manner you shall eat it: with your belt fastened, your sandals on your feet, and your staff in your hand. And you shall eat it in haste. It is the Lord’s Passover. 12 For I will pass through the land of Egypt that night, and I will strike all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, both man and beast; and on all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgments: I am the Lord. 13 The blood shall be a sign for you, on the houses where you are. And when I see the blood, I will pass over you, and no plague will befall you to destroy you, when I strike the land of Egypt. (Exodus 12:1–13, ESV)

28 Then the people of Israel went and did so; as the Lord had commanded Moses and Aaron, so they did. 29 At midnight the Lord struck down all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, from the firstborn of Pharaoh who sat on his throne to the firstborn of the captive who was in the dungeon, and all the firstborn of the livestock. 30 And Pharaoh rose up in the night, he and all his servants and all the Egyptians. And there was a great cry in Egypt, for there was not a house where someone was not dead. 31 Then he summoned Moses and Aaron by night and said, “Up, go out from among my people, both you and the people of Israel; and go, serve the Lord, as you have said. 32 Take your flocks and your herds, as you have said, and be gone, and bless me also!” (Exodus 12:28–32, ESV)

33 The Egyptians were urgent with the people to send them out of the land in haste. For they said, “We shall all be dead.” 34 So the people took their dough before it was leavened, their kneading bowls being bound up in their cloaks on their shoulders. 35 The people of Israel had also done as Moses told them, for they had asked the Egyptians for silver and gold jewelry and for clothing. 36 And the Lord had given the people favor in the sight of the Egyptians, so that they let them have what they asked. Thus they plundered the Egyptians. (Exodus 12:33–36, ESV)

The Hebrews had been in Egypt for 430 years, and now we have come to the moment in Exodus when they were delivered from their Egyptian captors (12:40). It is referred to in our passage as the very day the hosts of the LORD went out from the land of Egypt (12:41). A great multitude of six hundred thousand men, plus women and children, not to mention a large mixed multitude of other nationalities and all their flocks and herds were set free that night (12:37-38). And when they were set free, they plundered the Egyptians, just as Moses had said they would (11:2, 12:36). The Egyptian will was broken, and now they were paying the Israelites to go and never return. The destruction of the Egyptian army at the Red Sea is next, but this Passover night was always thought of as the moment God delivered his people.

Our episode begins with Moses giving Pharaoh one final word. Pharaoh had told Moses he would never see his face again, and Moses agreed, but there was one more thing to say (10:28-29). Like Steve Jobs' iconic "one more thing," Moses had one more thing to reveal to Pharaoh. This man would not let the people go, but this final plague of the death of the firstborn would break his demonic grip on God's people. Some scholars even point to an Egyptian "mythological tale" from that time that said a Pharaoh-King would one day be judged by him-whose-name-is-hidden on the day he slayed his firstborn.[^1] Legends such as these may have been the background of the biblical account, a true warning embedded in the hearts of the Egyptians but rejected by Pharaoh.

In this difficult movement, God sets his people free from their slavery. It is a powerful moment, a true pinnacle passage in Exodus, the Old Testament, and the entire Bible. This Passover event echoes into the church's communion table and, of course, is fulfilled in the cross of Christ, the story of the death of God's firstborn Son so that anyone who applies his blood can be saved. There are thousands of little points we could draw from this text, but let's focus on three main concepts today.

1. God is Slow to Anger

First, this passage shows us that God is slow to anger. You might not think so at first. It is a hard episode for many of us to digest. The sheer force of the text's statement that "at midnight the LORD struck down all the firstborn in the land of Egypt," along with the collective cry in Egypt can be hard to read (29-30).

Many have wondered, due to passages like these, if God is a moral monster or cosmic bully who renders catastrophe on whoever he wants, whenever he wants. I can recall an old comic by Gary Larson with the subtitle, God at his computer. On God's screen is a man walking under a piano attached to a crane. As he walks, God's finger hovers over his keyboard button labeled "smite." This is how many feel about God, and this leads me to this first point today: God is slow to anger.

One reason I declare this truth here is that God had this power all along but did not use it until exhausting nine other plagues before this one. During the first nine strikes (or judgments), human life was harmed but not eliminated. And through the separation of the Hebrews from the Egyptians, God made it abundantly clear and totally obvious that he favored the Hebrews. No Egyptian had any right to wonder where God stood. Sometimes, people will say they'd believe in God if he showed up and revealed himself in a straightforward and direct way. God has done that in this passage. In clear terms, every person in Egypt could understand that their historical gods were nothing, and the God of the Hebrews was supreme. Still, even after nine full judgments, the Egyptians had not set the Hebrews free—and God had not yet struck the firstborns. This presents God as slow to anger.

Another reason I declare this truth here is that God delayed this judgment for centuries. The Hebrews had been there for 430 years, and it's quite possible that only the first generation experienced peaceful harmony with the Egyptians, meaning they endured 400 years of increasing injustice. This Passover night was not only entirely avoidable but a very long time coming, especially when you consider how many thousands or millions of people were harmed and deceived by the Egyptian worship system. God hated it all along for what it did to people, but his longsuffering nature meant that his judgment would wait until his wrath built up to this moment. He is not rash or temperamental. He does not lash out in a sudden rage. He is slow to anger.

I heard one author-pastor give a reading of a piece he wrote from the perspective of an older Hebrew woman.[^2] In his fictitious piece, the woman had suffered under the dictates of the Pharaoh who'd commanded her firstborn son be thrown into the Nile River. Throughout her entire pregnancy, she had pleaded with God for deliverance, only to have all hope dissipate with the drowning breath of her baby boy. Her heart hardened against God, and—even if she'd wanted to pray—she could not. But in her older years, Moses returned, and plagues rained down on her tormentors. Finally, deliverance and justice had come. But when she and her Hebrew siblings passed through the Red Sea, she cried and began to mutter something to God. She had begun to realize that God is slow to anger. All her life, she had wanted quick justice, but God, though holy and demanding of justice, is patient to deliver it. He is slow to anger.

It is all too easy to sit on our stuffed armchairs reading our leather Bibles with their gilded pages and blame God for doing what he did to the Egyptians. But it is good to envision this story from the perspective of the tormented—they likely wished this judgment would happen sooner. We should not, from our late arrival on the timeline of human chronology, be so arrogant as to think our view is the correct one. Had we been there—suffering, tormented—we might have felt differently.

And one day, we will see all of God's decisions regarding judgment in that light. When Jesus returns, the Bible says he judges and makes war in righteousness (Rev. 19:11). And we will all sing the song of Moses—one of the lines says, "Just and true are your ways, O king of the nations!" (Rev. 15:3). And here, God's way must be seen as just.

And, of course, the Bible presents this as just retribution for the time Pharaoh killed a generation of Hebrew boys in the Nile River. In his book Is God A Vindictive Bully?, Paul Copan lays out six strong reasons God was right to judge the Egyptians this way:

First, God was doing to Egypt what they had done to the Hebrews. They had not corrected their genocidal acts, and now they had to pay for their crimes. And—side note—I suspect all these baby Egyptian children are eternally in God's presence, having never had the chance to rebel from or respond to God's revelation in any knowing way.
Second, as I mentioned last week, all the Egyptians had to partake in the large-scale scheme of enslaving and brutalizing the Hebrew people. Pharaoh could command it, but an entire system of leaders, right down to the Egyptian populace, had to engage in shifting from neighbors and friends with the Hebrews to torturers and oppressors of the Hebrews.
Third, this current Pharaoh had done nothing to repent of or soften the dictates of the previous regimes. Instead, he made their labor doubly hard after Moses first appeared, an indication he would only let them go if forced to by a hand stronger than his own.
Fourth, as with the flood narrative in Genesis, this is presented as a last-resort action by God. Any of Moses' warnings or God's plagues could have repointed Pharaoh's heart, but he was determined and would not let them go.
Fifth, we must recognize that there is something intensely spiritual about this warfare. God is judging the Egyptian gods. He is not punishing a random people group but false gods that have deceived the nations. If these false doctrines had their way, the Hebrews would be absorbed into and eliminated by Egypt, and that would be the end of God's mission to save the world through Abraham's offspring—ultimately through Jesus.
Finally, as is seen elsewhere, such as in the flood episode, God is the giver and taker of life. He promised death would come if mankind ate the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. We did. Spiritual and physical death came. In a sense, physical death at the end of life is mercy because, through his own death, we can enter into renewed forever life rather than remain broken—in death—forever. But God is not under any obligation to keep us alive for seventy or eighty years. He gives and takes life, and here he takes it a little earlier than we are used to .[^3]

So God does judge, but he is longsuffering—slow to anger. He waited 120 years before the flood (Gen. 6:3). He waited over 400 years for the Canaanite's sin to become full (Gen. 15:13-16). He allowed Nineveh a respite because they repented (Jonah 3). He sent prophet after prophet to rebellious Israel, waiting generations to discipline them (2 Ch. 36:15-16). And Jesus shows us this same God when he refuses to condemn the woman caught in adultery or tells the thief on the cross he'll join him in paradise (John 8:1-11, Luke 23:43).

I also want to point out that not only is God slow to anger, but he is first "merciful and gracious" (Ex. 34:6). And there is deep mercy connected to this episode. Years later, when the prophet Isaiah was on the scene, God took the story of the Hebrew exodus and applied it to Egyptians! In Isaiah's eschatological vision, he looked into events in the future—even the future to us—when Egypt will build an altar to Yahweh in their own land and worship him (Is. 19:19, 21). Though Pharaoh had refused to acknowledge Yahweh, on that day, all of Egypt would. They will cry out to the Lord, and he will hear them.

And the Lord will make himself known to the Egyptians, and the Egyptians will know the Lord in that day and worship with sacrifice and offering, and they will make vows to the Lord and perform them. And the Lord will strike Egypt, striking and healing, and they will return to the Lord, and he will listen to their pleas for mercy and heal them. On that day, there will be a highway from Egypt to Assyria, and Assyria will come into Egypt, and Egypt into Assyria, and the Egyptians will worship with the Assyrians. On that day, Israel will be the third with Egypt and Assyria, a blessing in the midst of the earth, whom the Lord of hosts has blessed, saying, “Blessed be Egypt my people, and Assyria the work of my hands, and Israel my inheritance.” (Isaiah 19:21–25)

So, though this is one hard chapter in Egypt's story, God has ensured it will not be their last. Grace is coming!

2. God's Deliverance Requires Blood

The second big idea I want us to consider from this movement is that God's deliverance requires blood. When Moses told Pharaoh of this final judgment, he said, "But not a dog shall growl against any of the people of Israel, either man or beast, that you may know that the LORD makes a distinction between Egypt and Israel" (11:7). But God had already made a distinction between them from Plaugue #4's flies onward. Is that what he's saying here, that the Hebrews are his, so he will distinguish them from the Egyptians?

Not at all. God said, "I will pass through the land of Egypt that night, and I will strike all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, both man and beast; and on all the gods of Egypt I will execute judgments: I am the Lord. The blood shall be a sign for you, on the houses where you are. And when I see the blood, I will pass over you, and no plague will befall you to destroy you, when I strike the land of Egypt" (12:12–13).

When I see the blood. Not, when I see you, but when I see the blood. We are meant to be startled—something much more serious and grave than the previous nine plagues is happening here. Without the blood of the lamb, there is no life, only death. "The destroyer's mission was blind to Israelite distinctions. Had an Israelite family not painted its doorway with the lamb's blood, the destroyer would have killed the firstborn of that household."[^4] This might be a hint that the Hebrews, though persecuted and enslaved, were not innocent in God's sight.[^5] We've already seen them doubt and complain, and once they get out in that wilderness, we will see the full force of their sinful nature. They will rebel against Moses and worship a golden calf. These are not good but oppressed people. These are sinners whom God must redeem.

And everything up to this point in Exodus creates a bit of a problem. Yes, the Hebrews have descended from Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Yes, they are God's people. Yes, they are the ones through whom all the nations of the earth would be blessed (Gen. 12:3, 22:18). But, at this point in Exodus, he is revealed as the God of the burning bush. When his presence is manifested, everything becomes holy ground. And plague after plague made his power, majesty, and holiness burn brightly among the dry stubble of Egypt and their gods. All this makes the true thrust of this movement of the story into a question: How can we approach God? Or, as one hymnist put it:

"> How shall I, whose native sphere is dark, whose mind is dim, before the Ineffable appear, and on my naked spirit bear the Uncreated Beam?"> [^6]

To put it another way, how can mortal man deal with the uncreated, immortal, all-powerful God presented in Exodus? By blood. God gave them directions for that night that were meant—in symbolic feast form—to extend to every single year of their existence. On the first day of this month, everyone must take a spotless lamb into their home. Fourteen days later, kill it at twilight. Take some of its blood and put it on the top and sides of your front door. Roast the lamb. Eat it that night with bitter herbs and unleavened bread. If any remains, burn it. And make sure you eat it with your belt fastened, your sandals on, and your staff in your hand. It is time to go. Tonight, I deliver you. When I see the blood, I will pass over you while I strike the land of Egypt."[^7]

So, how did the Hebrews survive? By putting their faith in the blood. It was faith based on God's past actions—they had every reason to believe Moses at this point—but it was faith, belief, or trust in the blood and God's promise about it. And, importantly, this faith had to be exercised while the Hebrews were still enslaved in Egypt. Once the blood was applied, they would be set free.

And the Bible bolts forth from this moment with the declaration that we are only passed over from judgment by the blood of the perfect sacrifice. The entire Levitical sacrificial system—especially the central Day of Atonement—pointed forward to the better and final sacrifice. In Genesis, Abraham told his son Isaac, by faith, that God would provide the lamb for the sacrifice (Gen. 22:8). And when Jesus came along, he was declared to be the true lamb of God who would take away the sin of the world. Abraham's firstborn need not die. God's firstborn would lay down his life. God put him forth as a propitiation by his blood (Rom. 3:25). We are justified by his blood (Rom. 5:9). Peace with God comes by the blood of his cross (Col. 1:20). His blood can purify our conscience from dead works to serve the living God (Heb. 9:14). We are ransomed from futility, not with perishable things like silver and gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot (1 Peter 1:18-19). Jesus was slain, and by his blood, he ransomed people for God (Rev. 5:9). And all of us who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ (Eph. 2:13).

His blood is our shelter from the storm. His blood is our life raft. His blood is our life-saving blood transfusion. His blood is the way we are saved from our unholiness before a holy God.

3. We Must Live From The Story Of Our Deliverance

Finally, I want to end our time in this passage with my last point: we must live from the story of our deliverance. What do I mean? Why do I say this?

You probably noticed how God framed his directions to Israel. It was partly about that night, but so many of his directions had to do with future years and generations. They needed to keep the feast of Passover, immediately followed by the Feast of Unleavened Bread, every new year. They were to recall how God referred to them as his firstborn son—and, on that Passover night, firstborns died (Ex. 4:22). But rather than die, the blood had saved them, and the blood would continue to save them. They had been spared, so they needed to recall that night over and over again. Generations not yet alive would live because their ancestors had been spared. Everyone needed to celebrate that event. They were a delivered people—delivered by the blood.

That is the story the church must live from—we are a delivered people. But we are often tempted to live from a different narrative.

Sometimes, we live as frightened people. The story we tell ourselves is that Jesus and his church are tenuous at best. We are endangered and doomed. This leads to panic or anger and, always, the abandonment of the mission Jesus gave us.
Sometimes, we live as self-righteous people. The story we tell ourselves is that Jesus loves us because of our utter lovability. Good, moral people who think and believe—and even sometimes do—the right things. That is why God loved us. This leads to arrogance and infighting and, always, the abandonment of the mission Jesus gave us.
Sometimes, we live as an indistinct people. The story we tell ourselves is that sin is not all that bad; God loves us no matter what; and it's too hard to deny oneself anyhow, so we might as well go along thinking and living like everyone else. This leads to unhealth and unhappiness and, always, the abandonment of the mission Jesus gave us.
Instead, we must remember the true story. We were redeemed by the blood of Christ from our rebellion, shame, and total separation from God. This leads us to humbly plead with a love for our world, embracing the mission Jesus gave us.

In many versions of the story of Rapunzel, the King and Queen's baby daughter is stolen by a wicked enchantress named Gothel. As Rapunzel grew older, Gothel lied to her, saying she was her mother. But, of course, a moment came when Rapunzel discovered her true identity. No longer did she need to live in a tower—she was the daughter of a king and queen in a palace! Her whole life changed once she lived consistently with the true story of her identity.

As believers, we must live from the true story of our identity—we are a delivered people! It came by the merciful blood of Jesus—nowhere else—and it was absolutely, totally, and completely required. Without it, we would be lost, dead, and enslaved. Let's think on that story until humility is produced in us—the blood of Jesus removes all boasting. Let's think of that story until love is produced in us—the cross is the most loving event in human history. Let's think of that story until joy is produced in us—we are passed over and completely safe in God because of the blood of his Son!

10 Moses and Aaron did all these wonders before Pharaoh, and the Lord hardened Pharaoh’s heart, and he did not let the people of Israel go out of his land. (Exodus 11:1–10, ESV)

1. God is Slow to Anger

2. God's Deliverance Requires Blood

3. We Must Live From The Story Of Our Deliverance

Suggested Study Questions