Resources

Displaying items by tag: remembrance

Friday, 14 September 2018 02:34

Our Book of Remembrance VIII

Why has God blessed Britain so much?

As we bring our short series to an end it is clear that we have barely scratched the surface of what God has done for Britain.

When God cut a covenant with Abraham, that he would be the father of many nations, and even when Jesus suffered on the Cross, making the New Covenant available to the whole world, it nevertheless remained hidden just how much God would do for nations such as ours. Yet history is full of testaments to God’s loving kindness towards the people of the British Isles.

But why have we chosen to write a book of remembrance, echoing Malachi 3:16?

Pleasing God Through Obedience

One reason is that we learn from the Book of Malachi that it pleased God for the people of Judah to recall his goodness to them (Mal 3:16-18). So, surely our remembrances might please God today in the same way – it is a good thing to do at any time.

Secondly, remembering is a principle built into the yearly cycle of the Feasts of the Lord. For example, at Passover deliverance from Egypt is remembered, which in New Covenant terms brings remembrance of the Lord’s sacrifice for sin – “Do this in remembrance of me” (Luke 22:19). Quite simply, if we do not remember, then we will forget.

History is full of testaments to God’s loving kindness towards the people of the British Isles.

Thirdly, we live in days of great decline from the ways of God, particularly in Britain. In such days we can easily meditate only on the negative aspects of our times. Remembering God’s help in times past can give us a balanced perspective and, indeed, kindle our hope again, leading to thankfulness and renewed prayer:

Lord, I have heard of your fame; I stand in awe of your deeds, Lord. Repeat them in our day, in our time make them known; in wrath remember mercy. (Habakkuk 3:2)

Fourthly, we live in a generation where more and more people, especially the young, have little knowledge of what God has done for us in the past. They must be taught.

Understanding His Deeper Purposes

But I think there is also another reason, deeper down, to be understood. As we set out all that God has done and consider it in prayer before him, we may find that he grants us a new perspective on what he is doing now, today.

God is always moving forward in fulfilment of his covenant promises. Historically, Britain has been greatly used as part of this – as a base for sending forth the Gospel message around the world, and also in helping to fulfil God’s purposes for Israel – working to prevent satan from annihilating the Jewish race in World War II, and participating (albeit imperfectly) in enabling the Jews to re-establish the land of Israel.

If we can understand some deeper reasons behind the blessings God bestowed upon Britain, we might wake up to what he is doing in our day.

As we consider what God has done for us in the past, we may find that he grants us a new perspective on what he is doing now, today.

As the nations fall into disarray, having had 2,000 years of opportunity for hearing the Gospel, the scene is set for God’s final plans for Israel to be fulfilled prior to the return of the Messiah. To put the past in perspective might enable us to understand where the time-clock of covenant history is now, so that we might participate in rather than oppose the work of God today.

Would God be pleased with us if, in our Bible study and prayer groups, we spent some more time recalling past blessings and asking him to show us how to prepare for and pray concerning the future? I think this is the deeper reason why we have been led to begin writing our Book of Remembrance.

This is the final instalment in our short summer series 'Our Book of Remembrance'. You can read the rest of the series by clicking here.

Published in Society & Politics
Friday, 17 November 2017 04:15

How Should We Remember?

The same remembrance events happen each year, but how Britain has changed.

Remembrance Day this year, the 11th day of 11th month, coincided with the centenary of the Battle of Passchendaele.

The battle, also known as the Third Battle of Ypres, was from July to November 1917, for control of the ridges south and east of the Belgian city of Ypres in West Flanders, as part of a strategy decided by the Allies at conferences in November 1916 and May 1917. The objective was accomplished on 10 November.

The War to End All Wars

It was a controversial battle from the start. British Prime Minister, David Lloyd George, was against the offensive, as was General Foch the Chief of Staff of the French Army. In 1938 Lloyd George wrote in his memoirs that Passchendaele was one of the greatest disasters of the war and that no soldier of any intelligence would by then defend the senseless campaign.

Even the number of casualties was unknown, with wildly differing estimates, so that an individual was lost among the multitude counted. Sometimes the numbers were exaggerated to lessen the impact of loss for the costly victory. Somewhere in the region of a quarter of a million casualties from the Allies and the same from the Germans seems to be an acceptable approximation.

Australian wounded at the Battle of Passchendaele. See Photo Credits.Australian wounded at the Battle of Passchendaele. See Photo Credits.Many of those missing soldiers have still not been identified, each one spurred on through national loyalty, obedience to superiors and with the promise that this would be the “war to end wars”.

Personal Points of Contact

Last weekend the nation paused for two minutes to remember, as best we could, the sacrifice of these and so many other lives in succeeding wars. The number of wartime casualties has amassed through the years following the armistice of 1918. Over 60 million people were killed in the Second World War alone, about 3% of the entire 1940 world population.

Not many of us have memories of family and friends who fell in the First World War but quite a few of us are left who have had direct involvement with those who fought the Second World War and succeeding wars.

My RAF service brought me into contact with some who survived the conflict. I also recall the sombre tones of my father whose best friend lost his life as a pilot in the Battle of Britain.

One of my close colleagues told me of the lasting impact that was made on his father who was among the first to enter the death camp of Belsen after the Allied victory. The shock of finding the emaciated, all-but-dead Jewish survivors and the horrendous job of clearing up the carnage left by the Nazis scarred him for the rest of his life.

Somewhere in the region of a quarter of a million casualties on each side were suffered at the Battle of Passchendaele.

Honouring Survivors

I have personally tried to honour those who survived the conflict when I could. For example, I travelled to an air show at Duxford last year with the main aim of shaking the hand of two 617 Dambuster Squadron Air Crew. One was Johnny Johnson, the last British Dambuster. He was the bomb-aimer who released the bouncing bomb on the Sorpe Dam after the ten passes needed to get altitude and speed correct for the drop.

The other was Ken Trent, a later pilot in 617 Squadron, who took part in the horrific 1,000 bomber raids over Germany towards the end of the war, covering his fear on every sortie with the motto “just do it”.

I sometimes wonder about my continued interest in these world conflicts – have I not yet lost my boyhood glamorisation of these heroes? Or do I keep studying just to try to understand why war? Perhaps in truth it is a bit of both.

Faithfully Remembering

Year after year we, as a nation, have faithfully obeyed the call to remember, ensuring our poppies are visible so that we can be seen to be taking part. Yet, this year, when watching the nation’s dignitaries on the television broadcasts of the Festival of Remembrance and Remembrance Day Service in London, I felt something different, something deeper stirring within me. I felt a real unease.

Why? Was it because I thought we who are left are paying tribute to the fallen but in a way that has become unreal? Was it because I sensed an unease from God himself, even though we heard the great hymn sung by those of Christian faith and others of no real faith, “O God our help in ages past, our hope for years to come”?

I am being honest here, saying something that may be against the grain for many so soon after the remembrance services. I am truly troubled, even with all my personal involvement and interest in the way our nation has been helped by God.

Year after year we, as a nation, have faithfully obeyed the call to remember.

God Our Help and Hope

I have had personal involvement with the Bible College in Wales where God called for prayer through the Second World War, where every battle was followed and victories were first proclaimed in prayer.

Then, afterwards, the prayer vigil was continued for the resettling of the Jews in their homeland, and victory was proclaimed in prayer even as the UN voted. God surely brought us through these wars and gave their homeland back to the surviving Jews, after great loss to the spiritual enemy through the horrors of the Holocaust by the hand of Adolf Hitler.

Perhaps, knowing this, I was hoping for more recognition of what God has done by those leading the remembrance services. I think though, my unease is because we at Prophecy Today have come to the view that God is displeased with Britain today, so much that he will allow us to go through a time of difficulty. This after all he has previously done for us.

Defending Righteousness

Those who fought the battles on behalf of our nation did so under the principle that they were defending a way of life. That way of life that was fought for is not now, in increasing ways, followed or cherished in this nation.

Once, with a righteousness to proclaim and defend, we were in a much better relationship with God. I think it was the knowledge of this that gave me my unease, mixed in with our remembrance this year of those who fell in the wars.

True remembrance takes account of purpose, or we drift into unreality. With continued respect for those who fell so that we might live, I would ask that we continue to seek God for how he wants us to remember what has been accomplished. Remembrance, in biblical understanding, is not just calling to mind an event, but acting on that prompt in a way that is worthy of the sacrifice.

Biblical remembrance is not just calling to mind an event, but acting on that prompt in a way that is worthy of the sacrifice. 

Sadness and Regret

On reflection, the sadness that I felt at this year's remembrance services was twofold. First it was for the fallen in all the recent wars, tinged with the regret that much was avoidable.

Secondly, it was for the leaders of the nations in our present day. God’s judgments on nations fall when the leaders (shepherds) fail to do their job, and that is what is happening in our day.
The world is still volatile and we are vulnerable as a nation, more so because we are not living under the sure protection of God: we have changed our way of life to accommodate much that is sinful and evil in his eyes.

Whether we have reached a fulfilment of Isaiah 1:14-15 I cannot say with certainty, but this is something worthy of prayer:

…your appointed festivals…have become a burden to me;
I am weary of bearing them.
When you spread out your hands in prayer, I hide my eyes from you;
even when you offer many prayers, I am not listening.
Your hands are full of blood!

Israel got into this serious position with God and so can Britain.

Published in Society & Politics
Friday, 11 November 2016 04:24

FIFA, Politics and the Poppy

As remembrance events are held today to mark the end of World War II and the sacrifice of so many millions, FIFA is still making headlines for banning players from wearing commemorative poppies.

Today is Armistice Day, and England and Wales are this evening set to defy FIFA's long-standing ban on all "political, religious or commercial messages", and allow their players to wear poppies on their shirts during the World Cup Qualifier match.

This is not a new row – it erupted in 2011, resulting in players being allowed to wear poppies emblazoned on armbands, but not on their shirts.1 Nevertheless, this year FIFA has stood its ground, and debate has once again erupted in the media over the politics of the poppy. Meanwhile, the rest of the British populace rolls their eyes at political correctness gone mad, wondering when it became unacceptable to commemorate the ultimate sacrifice made by so many millions during the two world wars. How have we got to this point?

The Race to Escape Politics

The debate over whether or not the poppy is a political symbol is an interesting one, but not what I wish to focus on here. Instead, I would like to draw attention to a different, but no less key, aspect of the whole incident: FIFA's blanket refusal to make what could be construed as a political statement.

Like so many institutions and establishments today, FIFA would rather keep its nose (at least, its public nose) out of politics, religion and commerce, even to the point of avoiding any cause that could possibly be construed as such. Contrary to media headlines, FIFA has not deliberately banned the poppy – but they have refused to "pre-judge" whether or not it counts as a political symbol, instead referring the case to a disciplinary committee, which will decide whether or not the rules have been broken.2

Perhaps this is understandable in the light of FIFA's recent political scandals. But ironically, the poppy 'ban' is probably causing more controversy than it prevents. Whether the primary driver here is a fear of losing mass support or a fear of inciting a lawsuit from some avid poppy-haters, it is a sorry state of affairs when concern for self-protection leads an organisation to pass up the opportunity to support a good cause, just because it could be labelled 'political'.

The Poppy Appeal has become collateral damage in a rather inconsistent attempt to erase all trace of politics from football (or at least from its public face). What does this say about the state of our society?

It is a sorry state of affairs when concern for self-protection leads an organisation to pass up the opportunity to support a good cause, just because it could be labelled 'political'.

The Postmodern Hatred of Politics

This may be a controversial point to make, but I personally believe that the essence of all politics is actually moral – since politics is about making arguments, statements and rulings about the good (and the bad) of society. It involves saying what we believe is good and worth pursuing (/legalising/promoting), and what we believe is evil and needing to be fought (/prohibited/eradicated), not just for ourselves but for the collective. When one shows support for a political symbol, message or cause, one is effectively making a moral statement about what one believes is good (or bad) for society. A political statement is a moral statement (and the reverse is also true).

The trouble is, in today's world, we have cut ourselves loose from the objective morality given to us by God – the true word of Scripture and the guidance of the Holy Spirit which help us to distinguish right from wrong. We have rejected the Ultimate Source of morality. And so in Western culture, in the absence of a true, objective definition of right and wrong, morality has become relative – what's right for you might not be so for me. We each 'do as we see fit' (Judg 17:16, 21:25).

And as morality has become an individual, private matter, so has politics. They are two sides of the same coin. Declarations of right and wrong – declarations about what is objectively good and bad – are increasingly unwelcome in the public realm, because public means that which is shared, communal, universal, applicable to all. And how can there be a morality that is universally applicable (or a politics that is universally beneficial) if there is no higher moral authority than the individual? How can anyone 'pre-judge' what is good for all?

Public Declarations of the Good Increasingly Difficult

By rejecting God, we have argued ourselves into a corner – and our establishments are in a bind, increasingly unable to enforce one moral law for all. We lose our ability to distinguish between the immovable, universal rights and wrongs God has instituted, and our personal preferences that arise chiefly from taste and character – God-given diversity. As man becomes god, so we conflate the two.

This is why our entire society is suffering from a lack of direction, a lack of convicted leadership and an unwillingness amongst the establishment to engage with controversial issues: because the tyranny of political correctness stops us from standing up, above the crowd, and making a broader statement about what is morally right and good for everyone. Those who are brave enough are usually sued – because our legal system has become about protecting the individual, above all else.

The upshot of this is that the moral pillars of society become judged by and subjected to the moral vagaries of the individual, not the other way around (e.g. FIFA avoids all political or religious messages because they might upset or disagree with some individuals). And because these shifting sands are such a nightmare, it becomes easier to put a blanket ban on everything that might be controversial.

When the moral pillars of society are subjected to the shifting sands of individual hearts, it becomes easier to put a blanket ban on everything that might be controversial.

Should Christians Care?

Let's go back to the humble poppy. FIFA will not publicly endorse the Poppy Appeal, presumably for fear of being branded 'political' – of making a statement about something other than football that splits people and causes it to lose support. Players may be allowed to wear poppies on armbands (i.e. a matter of personal choice – individual politics/morality), but not on their shirts (collective uniforms, symbolising the position of FIFA as an organisation).

In this particular instance, it takes something as seemingly innocuous as the Poppy Appeal to open our eyes, albeit briefly, to the realities of the political correctness nightmare. But it isn't about the poppy, or about war, or about showing respect for bravery and sacrifice in the face of horror. It's about a much bigger, more endemic cultural disease: amorality.

The problem, of course, is that life is inescapably political and religious. Just as attempts to erase religion from the public realm are doomed to fail (as atheism is itself a faith, and secularism itself a religion, rather than the absence of one), so attempts to depoliticise football are also futile.

But that doesn't mean that attempts to enforce the semblance of political and moral neutrality won't be pushed through – with this false neutrality becoming a Trojan horse for the promotion of unGodly values and ethics. Because again, this isn't about the poppy, and it isn't about FIFA. It is about a growing prohibition of public statements of morality – which is already extending to include expressions of Christian truth in schools, on the streets and even in churches.

That's why Christians should take notice of the poppy debate – and refused to be cowed by the spirit of the age.

"They shall grow not old as we that are left grow old; age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun, and in the morning, we will remember them." ~ For the Fallen, Robert Laurence Binyon (1869-1943)

References

1 Is the poppy a political symbol? Who, What, Why, BBC Magazine, 1 November 2016.

2 Conway, R. England v Scotland: Fifa says Poppy ban reports a 'distortion of facts'. BBC Sport, 11 November 2016.

3 One might also point out FIFA's symbolic inconsistency in featuring the logos of ethically dubious corporate sponsors – such as the Nike logo that adorns all England shirts and the Adidas logo graces the shirts of Scottish players. The poppy is apparently a step too far, however (or perhaps not lucrative enough?).

Published in Society & Politics
Saturday, 04 April 2015 03:45

Passover: the Power of Memory

Passover is about flooding the memory, binding the mind to the eternal. In evoking the past, meaning is restored to the present and hope assured for the future.

The power of memory: the key to Jewish survival...

Why is this night different from all other nights?” This is the ancient question the youngest child asks at the Passover meal. The short answer for this and most Jewish festivals is, “They tried to kill us, they didn’t succeed, let’s eat!” The serious answer is the same but more elaborate: it is a celebration of God’s deliverance, freedom and new life

Passover carries cultural resonance like no other festival, being powerfully evocative even for those who do not fully grasp its spiritual significance.

The celebration of Passover has helped to ensure the survival of the Jewish people, reminding each generation of the hope of deliverance during dark times. One of the names for Passover is the Season of our Freedom (Heb. translit. Z'man Cheiruteinu). Yet freedom for the Jewish people has been elusive. During centuries of exile and persecution, the dream of Zion was kept alive at Passover in the final poignant line of the haggadah1: “Next year in Jerusalem”.

"Passover was a journey of hope for all generations: from slavery to freedom, from darkness to light, from exile to restoration."

Empires rose and fell but this tiny people survived through centuries of persecution and exile. Why? Because God has preserved them. One of his tools for their preservation is their continual re-enacting of his deliverance at Passover. Abraham Joshua Heschel wrote in 1967, when the Temple Mount in Jerusalem, came back under Jewish control for the first time in 2000 years during the Six Day War:

Why did our hearts and minds throughout the ages turn to Eretz Israel [the land of Israel], to the Holy Land? Because of memory…There is a slow and silent stream, a stream not of oblivion but of memory from which we must constantly drink before entering the realm of faith. To believe is to remember. The substance of our very being is memory, our way of living is retaining the reminders, articulating memory.2

Passover was not simply about the preservation of the past; it was the key to the future. It was a journey of hope for all generations: from slavery to freedom, from darkness to light, from exile to restoration. Each generation is a link in the chain of the journey from slavery to redemption.

Reliving your memories

Passover is not just about recollection, but partaking. The story is revived each year with each generation taking its place as the subject of the narrative.

In every generation, every person must see himself as if he himself came out of Egypt, the haggadah instructs, because Moses commanded that when you eat the unleavened bread of Passover, “On that day tell your son, ‘I do this because of what the Lord did for me when I came out of Egypt’” (Ex 13:8).

From the Warsaw Ghetto Underground Press, April 1, 1942, the eve of Passover:

We are still having the festival of freedom at a time of inhuman slavery. And even though freedom is being trampled underfoot every day by the boots of the most terrible monster in all generations, it continues to flourish in our souls, and we believe and hope.

Passover, the most beautiful festival in our history, returns and revives the eternal idea of freedom in our memory. For [our] tortured [people] these days, it is a recollection of redemption. We understand today [more] than before the meaning of the words, ‘In every generation, every person must see himself as if he himself came out of Egypt.’ It is the command of history. No generation may forget the experiences that the people underwent in the foreign diasporas.3

In Deuteronomy 25:17-19, Israel was instructed to remember their first national enemy who had attempted to annihilate them:

Remember what the Amalekites did to you along the way when you came out of Egypt. When you were weary and worn out, they met you on your journey and attacked all who were lagging behind; they had no fear of God. When the Lord your God gives you rest from all the enemies around you in the land he is giving you to possess as an inheritance, you shall blot out the name of Amalek from under heaven. Do not forget!

So they were to remember, but in order to forget. However, the Amalekite spirit persists and has not been blotted out. At the Jewish festival of Purim, deliverance from attempted genocide by Haman, a descendant of the Amalekites (recorded in the book of Esther), is celebrated. Hamans have continued to arise. “In every generation, they rise up against us to annihilate us” laments the haggadah.

So, as you remember what happened to your ancestors, you imagine that first flight from your persecutors as though you were there: you escaped Egypt, crossed the sea on dry land, and fled to safety following a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night.

Hebrews 7:10, discussing priestly tithing, says that Levi could be said to have paid tithes through Abraham to Melchizedek even though he was not alive then, but because he was in the body of his ancestor. The implication of this curious idea is that because each Jewish life is inherited from another Jewish life, in a continual chain of descent, so with the author of Hebrews it could be said that each person was there at that first Passover in the body of their ancestors.

Leon Wieseltier writes:

It was one of the primary purposes of Jewish ritual and liturgy to abolish time, to make Jews divided by history into contemporaries (and Jews divided by geography into neighbours); in this way the many communities of Judaism were unified into a single people and the experiences of many Jews into a single story.4

Remembrance as a sign

God instructed Israel to observe this festival because it would be like a sign (in Hebrew, ot; in Greek, semion).

This observance will be for you like a sign on your hand and a reminder on your forehead that this law of the Lord is to be on your lips. (Ex 13:9)

This is one of the verses from which the command to wear tefillin (phylacteries) arose. Tefillin are small black leather boxes containing verses from the Torah on parchment that Jewish men bind with leather straps to their foreheads and hands. (Women may “lay” tefillin too, but were exempted from the commandment due to the demands of their maternal duties.)

The express command in Exodus 13:9 is to celebrate Passover; the implied command is to put on tefillin. The purpose of tefillin is to be a sign and reminder of the deliverance of God’s people from Egypt. The process of binding tefillin to the hand and the forehead is intended to remind the wearer that he is bound to the Lord in mind, action and speech - God’s Word “is to be on your lips”.

"Through centuries of shaking, the tangible reminders of God’s goodness in the Passover and tefillin have bound the Jewish people to each other and to their God."

So, celebrating Passover and putting on tefillin have become tangible signs of God’s goodness setting apart the Jewish people. In Exodus 13:16 the command is repeated: “And it will be like a sign on your hand and a symbol on your forehead that the Lord brought us out of Egypt with his mighty hand.” The Greek translation of the Old Testament (Septuagint) uses the word “unshakeable” (ἀσάλευτον) here to describe this memorial sign.

Through centuries of shaking, the tangible reminders of God’s goodness in the Passover and tefillin have bound the Jewish people to each other and to their God. Passover is about flooding the memory, binding the mind to the eternal. In evoking the past, meaning is restored to the present and hope assured for the future.


 

The power of shared memories

Repetition is the key to remembering and so Passover is repeated year after year by generation after generation.

The importance of linking the generations is demonstrated by the number of genealogies in the Bible. It was Jewish descent, rather than assent to a set of truths, that marked out God’s people before Messiah. Physical and spiritual heritage were intertwined. Names were remembered because of the important of physical heritage. It was vital to ensure that the inheritance of each tribe was not lost (see Zelophehad’s daughters in Numbers 27).

Remembering the names of your ancestors was therefore crucial for creating an unbreakable chain of memory and history to pass on so that the word of God was not forgotten.

To have your name blotted out was a terrible punishment. “May they be blotted out of the book of life and not be listed with the righteous” is the curse in Psalm 69:28. Revelation 3:5 says: “The one who is victorious will, like them, be dressed in white. I will never blot out the name of that person from the book of life, but will acknowledge that name before my Father and his angels.” So, all believers have memorial inscriptions: both Jew and Gentile.

Gentiles have always been part of the story of God’s people. Exodus 12:38 says about the flight from Egypt that, “Many other people went up with them”. Presumably Egyptians, possibly native slaves seizing the opportunity for freedom, clung to the Israelites, as Ruth the Moabite woman would later do, saying, “Your God is my God” (Ruth 1:16). So, Gentiles too have spiritual ancestors from the Exodus, the “Many other people” who left Egypt with the Hebrews.

Since Messiah came, Gentiles may join Israel by faith. They are included in God’s family by assent not descent, by faith rather than physical ancestry. Gentiles have a claim on the family inheritance because they have joined the family of God’s people and may share in its rich heritage: “…you are no longer foreigners and strangers, but fellow citizens with God’s people and also members of his household” (Eph 2:19).

"The call of Passover is to all people everywhere: join the Exodus, leave the Egypt of sin and death...be joined to God’s people"

So the call of Passover is to all people everywhere: join the Exodus, leave the Egypt of sin and death that is human life as we know it, be joined to God’s people, the “one new humanity” (Eph 2:15) of Jew and Gentile through faith in Messiah, so that you may know and be known by one Father, the God of Israel, who is ruler of all.

Neglected heritage

Celebrating Passover is powerfully resonant for Gentile believers: it adds richness and depth to a faith that is often abstract, referencing Bible history but as observers without ownership. Passover roots and grounds us in the history and memory of a real family, God’s family.

For some Jewish people, seeing Jesus in the Passover has revealed the true meaning of the redemption narrative. A non-believing Jewish friend realised during a Passover seder5 explaining its messianic significance that, “Jesus is one of us, he’s Jewish!” She is now a believer in Jesus as Messiah.

However, are Gentile believers neglecting this rich heritage? In our churches and homes, are we building on this powerful mnemonic which binds us to each other and our God? Are our homes places where precious memories are formed or, in our busy and fractured family lives, do we leave that to the minister and the Sunday School teacher?

"Celebrating Passover is powerfully resonant for Gentile believers: it adds richness and depth to a faith that is often abstract, rooting and grounding us in the history and memory of a real family, God’s family."

Perhaps the neglect of study, worship and biblical celebration in our homes is the root of our spiritual impoverishment and a cause of our fragmentation and rootlessness as families, churches and communities. In Britain, we have lost much of our rich Christian heritage, but we have a chance to recover a deeper, more resonant heritage from our ancient spiritual ancestors. This is what the LORD says: “Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for your souls.’” (Jer 6:16)

Our shared biblical history is not just an abstract set of salvation concepts but a fixed reality that was lived, and is lived, in each generation. Do we count ourselves as having been there? This powerful, grand narrative of the Exodus should be the bedrock of our Christian experience, undergirding the transforming gospel message of freedom and new life. Instead, many churches are we offering a tepid, watered-‑down, people-pleasing faith.

What is the sign in our lives that we belong to the Lord? It should be the word of God on our lips, the Passover message of deliverance and new life written on every page of our lives. We are “living letters” (2 Cor 3:3), signs to the world around us, foreigners and exiles (1 Pet 2:11-13), who are “in the world but not of it” (Jn 17:14,16).

Just as the Jewish people have always been God’s signpost to the world by their very continued existence, and have suffered and been rejected for it, so believers in Messiah Yeshua, joined to Israel (Eph 2:11-18), should aim to write the truths of the gospel with the largest letters we can, just as Paul wrote in his large hand to impress on the Galatians (Gal 6:11) that the inscription required by God was no longer circumcision, but the marks of the work of the Holy Spirit in our hearts, written in our lives in word and action.

"We are not required to circumcise or put on tefillin, but to bind the Lord’s commands to our minds and actions by the daily “putting on” of Messiah"

We are not required to circumcise or put on tefillin, but to bind the Lord’s commands to our minds and actions by the daily “putting on” of Messiah: “clothe yourselves with Christ” (Rom 13:14, Gal 3:27, Col 3:12). Is the writing in our lives clear enough so that our faith can be “read” by all and 'strangers' want also to follow us out of Egypt?

As already pointed out, the ancient Greek translation of Ex 13:16 uses the word “unshakeable” to describe the memorial sign that is Passover: “And it will be like a sign on your hand and a symbol on your forehead that the Lord brought us out of Egypt with his mighty hand.” During the shaking that is to come, believers need to cling to that which cannot be shaken.

The power of memory: hope for the future

Jesus is already established in the Passover – in plain sight but hidden. At the beginning of the traditional Passover seder (Hebrew for order) a mysterious custom takes place. Three matzot (pieces of unleavened bread) are placed in a bag with three compartments. The middle piece is broken, half is returned to its compartment and the other half covered in a cloth and hidden to be 'resurrected' later as a children’s hide and find game at the end of the meal where they 'ransom' it for sweets.

The origin of this custom is uncertain. The hidden piece of matzah is called the afikomen, the meaning of which is, 'he who comes' or 'the one who has arrived'. When the children find it they 'ransom' it in exchange for a prize. So, there is a trinity of unleavened bread (lack of yeast symbolising purity), the second piece of which is broken, then buried or hidden in a cloth, then ransomed and eaten by all, while those who find this treasure receive a prize.

Jesus' body was broken, he was buried, wrapped in cloth, and later brought back or resurrected. His sacrifice may be partaken of by all. His death is the ransom for sinners. He is the “pearl of great price” (Matt 13:45-6), a priceless treasure and the prize of salvation (Philippians 3:14), available to all who choose to partake (Jn 1:12). It is thought that the afikomen is the piece of matzah that Jesus broke and offered to his disciples when he said, "This is my body, broken for you" (Mk 14:22).

"At Passover, whether Jew or Gentile, we are invited to journey afresh with Messiah, whose body was broken for us and whose blood was shed as our Passover Lamb (1 Cor 5:7)."

One Passover custom among Sephardi Jews is for the leader of the Passover seder to leave the room and return with the afikomen in a knapsack over his shoulder, carrying a walking stick and wearing a tightened belt.

The children ask, "Where are you coming from?"
The seder leader replies, "From Egypt."
Then the children ask, "Where are you going?"
The answer: "To Jerusalem."

When we turn to God we embark on a journey from Egypt, the old life of sin, to Jerusalem, our redemption in Messiah. As we journey we may limp, hence the walking stick, as some of our sinful ways still linger, hindering us. We have to deny the self, tightening our belts, so to speak. Yet the only burden we need to carry is that of Messiah, represented by the afikomen in this story. "Take my yoke upon you," says Jesus, "for my yoke is easy and my burden is light" (Matt 11:29).

At Passover, whether Jew or Gentile, we are invited to journey afresh with Messiah, whose body was broken for us and whose blood was shed as our Passover Lamb (1 Cor 5:7). Let us no longer neglect our rich inheritance in Messiah. Remembering the past sets us on the right path for the future.

When we know where we have come from, then we know where we are going.

 

References

1 The haggadah (in English, telling) is a book of prayers, blessings and story-telling that is recited at the Passover meal.

2 Heschel, A J, 1967. Israel: An Echo of Eternity. New York, p60.

3 Roshkovsky, L. Pesach and the Holocaust, Yad Vashem, The International School for Holocaust Studies.

4 Wieseltier, L. Culture and Collective Memory, New York Times, 15 January 1984.

5 Seder is Hebrew for 'order'. It refers to the service that takes place in the home on the first night of Passover involving a meal and the eating of specific elements relating to the original Passover.

Published in Teaching Articles

Prophecy Today Ltd. Company No: 09465144.
Registered Office address: Bedford Heights, Brickhill Drive, Bedford MK41 7PH