Deuteronomy 16:1–8

Israel, no less than the Egyptians, were a sinful race. How could God make light of their sins? So He instituted the Passover. He made it all the more striking, because a new reckoning started from that event as a foundation for Israel. Abib was the seventh month of the civil year; "for in the month of Abib the LORD your God brought you out of Egypt by night" (v. 1). It now began the holy year. The LORD was acting as Judge beyond anything that had gone before; and the lamb's blood alone could shelter guilty Israel.

The month in question was Abib, otherwise Nisan (Ex. 13:4), and matched our March–April. Redemption gave the people a new start with God. It is the same now. A man admits he is a sinner in God's sight, exposed to eternal wrath. In simple faith he takes refuge under the blood of the Lamb. That is when he begins life anew.

This month received the name Abib — "the month of the ears of grain." It was for Israel the month of life out of death, the fruitful month — a name most fitting for the people at their birth into national life. You can see this important principle about their year throughout the books of Moses, Joshua and Judges. There Abib alone has a name. Every other month is counted from it by number — the "second," the "third," and so on.

What could show so clearly that it was for the LORD's eye, not for man's senses or mind? It was put on the two side-posts and on the lintel for his faith, and all the more for the deepest feelings of his heart. Had it been inside, it would have suggested that they were to gaze at the lamb's blood, to which they owed their safety. But there was nothing of the kind... What makes this even clearer is that it was "night." There was no natural light to let the blood be seen by men. Only the divine eye could see the blood on the doorposts. He might work through a destroyer, but it was the LORD who struck Egypt, and the LORD who saw the blood and passed over Israel sheltered by it. "When I see the blood, I will pass over you."

A man is first awakened. He receives the good news of redemption in Christ Jesus through the shedding of His blood. At that point the nearness of the wrath to come speaks to his soul. But after he has bowed to the truth, he is no longer filled with alarm, at least not in the same degree or way. Is it that Christ's work is valued less? A great deal more.

Note that it is only in Deuteronomy that the place of celebration is insisted on. We have nothing about it in Exodus, because there it was kept in Egypt. We have nothing about it in Numbers, because there it was kept in the wilderness. But in Deuteronomy it is settled with authority, because there we have the instructions for the land. God would gather His beloved people around Himself, to feast together in His presence, that He might rejoice in them, and they in Him and in one another.

These feasts made an appeal to a male Israelite that no others could make. Others might be optional; these feasts were binding. It is a call to obedience... It is not the tabernacle, nor the priest, nor the wilderness, but obeying God as His people in the land.

It may be worth noticing that the Passover sacrifice proper was a lamb from the flock only. But Numbers 28 shows that the feast had daily offerings too: bulls as burnt offerings, along with a ram and lambs, a grain offering, a goat for a sin offering, and a drink offering. This explains the "herd" here.

Only notice that in Deuteronomy 16 it is simply the Passover sacrificed. Nothing is said here about the blood put on the doorposts.

Here the Passover is no longer that shelter from threatening judgment; it is the memorial of salvation accomplished... It is the soul's communion; it is the sweet spiritual recollection of a work entirely His own, of His death as a lamb without blemish. We feed on it, as His redeemed people, enjoying this position in the land of promise and of God — a land that belongs to us because of this redemption, and because we have been raised up with Christ.

We have to notice the remarkable emphasis laid on "the place" where the feast was to be kept. The people were not to choose for themselves. To human thinking, it might seem a very small matter how or where they kept the feast, as long as they kept it. But human thinking had nothing to do with it at all. This was God's thinking and God's authority from start to finish. God had the right to decide, once for all, where He would meet His people.

And note that only Deuteronomy insists on the place of celebration. We have nothing about it in Exodus, because there it was kept in Egypt. We have nothing about it in Numbers, because there it was kept in the wilderness. But Deuteronomy settles it with full authority, because here we have the instructions for the land.

God would gather His beloved people around Himself, so that they might feast together in His presence. He would rejoice in them, and they in Him and in one another. All this could only be in the one special place of divine appointment... Self-will might say, "Can we not keep the feast at home with our families? What need is there of a long journey? Surely if the heart is right, the place cannot matter very much." Our answer is this: the clearest and best proof of a right heart is a simple, earnest desire to do the will of God.

There was to be only one place from then on; many were allowed before... He would take His blessing, and Israel's enjoyment of it, completely out of their hands. He tied it to His own presence, and so blessed them all the more. He chose one place and one only for the Passover: it was where He Himself dwelt.

God had chosen a place, which was then a geographical location (the temple in Jerusalem) and had forbidden any other. No one among the people had the authority to say, "I would like to celebrate the Passover, but in a different place." God had appointed the place, and He had described it: it was where His name lived. The parallel to the New Testament is obvious. We cannot break bread just where we want to, but where God wants it — in the local assembly, where the Lord is among those gathered to His name.

This is a very great principle, dear friends, as true now as in Israel's day. The name of the Lord Jesus is the only gathering centre today. The believer who does not gather simply in that name will lack the deep enjoyment of Christ that our God wants our souls to taste.

Leaven is a picture of evil. Evil spreads, and it makes whatever it spreads through take on its own character. "A little leaven leavens the whole lump." So eating unleavened bread means separation from evil — practical holiness. Notice too that the feast was to last seven days, that is, a complete period of time. The lesson, then, is this. God requires holiness from everyone sheltered by the blood of the Passover Lamb, and He requires it for the whole of their life on earth. Our poor hearts might reason like this: if we are saved by the grace of God through the sprinkled blood of Christ, we may as well indulge in sin so that grace increases. "No!" says the Spirit of God. "As soon as you are under the value of the death of Christ, you are responsible to be separate from evil."

The lamb was killed on the fourteenth day at sunset. The feast of unleavened bread began right after the fifteenth day began, which was just after sunset. So no gap remained between the feast of the Passover and the feast of unleavened bread. There was no interval of time between the death of the lamb, the sprinkling of the blood, and the keeping of the feast.

Now, why is this? What great moral lesson does the bread of affliction convey to our hearts? We believe it sets before us those deep exercises of heart which the Holy Spirit produces. He brings home to us what it cost our adorable Lord and Saviour to deliver us from our sins, and from the judgment those sins deserved. Those exercises are also pictured by the "bitter herbs" of Exodus 12.

When an Israelite ate the bread of affliction with the roasted flesh of the Passover, did it express a doubt or a fear about his full deliverance? Impossible! How could it? He was in the land; he was gathered to God's own centre, His own very presence.

"You came out of the land of Egypt in haste." Pharaoh — that is, the devil — was behind them. They were only just escaping from the judgment. It is simply deliverance. You get out of Egypt in haste. You have to put the dough on your shoulder as fast as you can, so that the judgment does not catch you. And so you have the seven days of unleavened bread. It is deliverance. But it keeps you occupied with the state you were in when God delivered you. So it is "the bread of affliction." There must be holiness, or we cannot have anything to say to God. But we do not find fullness of communion and blessing in it.

We do not forget what we were; we do not forget that it was our sin that brought the Lord Jesus to the cross. And if we did not have a purged conscience, the Lord's supper would be the right time to afflict our souls. It was in connection with the Passover and the feast of unleavened bread that God told Israel to eat the bread of affliction. There is nothing in the Lord's supper that answers to the bread of affliction… There is no "bread of affliction" for the new creation.

How is it that we can commit sin so lightly, in thought, word and deed? How is it that there is so much levity, so much that is unsubdued, so much self-indulgence, so much carnal ease, so much that is merely frothy and shallow? Is it not because that ingredient pictured by "the bread of affliction" is missing from our feast? We cannot doubt it.

The Israelites were given a solemn charge: both then and afterwards, they were to take the greatest care to free themselves and their houses from every trace of leaven during this feast. Each household was to search thoroughly and systematically, and anything found had to go out of the house at once, so that not a particle might be seen anywhere within their borders.

The leaven was not to be found in any of the houses of the Israelites. This tells us that anyone who would keep the feast must hold all their surroundings and associations to the truth and will of God. This principle is deeply important. It searches us, and it reaches far.

Leaven is not simply evil, but evil allowed — the working of wills that are not subject to God. If a man allows such leaven in his own life and ways, it is bound to mark the whole of him. He cannot be subject to God up to a certain limit. The moment we urge a limit to obedience, we urge what is in fact disobedience. With God there is no such thing as allowing a line like this.

Note too that the feast was to last seven days — that is, a complete period of time. The lesson, then, is that holiness is the duty of everyone sheltered by the blood of the Passover Lamb, for the whole of their lives on earth. If we are saved by the grace of God through the sprinkled blood of Christ, our wretched hearts might reason: then we may indulge in sin, so that grace may abound. "No!" says the Spirit of God. "As soon as you are under the value of the death of Christ, you are under the responsibility to be separate from evil."

Unleavened bread was to be eaten for seven days. The Spirit of God tells us that this part of the picture means "the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth." To put away leaven is one side of this truth; to eat unleavened bread is the other side of this truth.

Leavened bread was completely shut out, and the lamb's flesh must not become ordinary food. It had to be treated as holy.

Exodus 12:10 had commanded that anything left over was to be burned — that is, it went up in fire to the Lord. For God can appreciate everything about Christ, even if we cannot.

It is exactly because the grace of the Lord bringing Israel into the land is in view that no lack of care can be tolerated, and that the deepest call is made on their spiritual affections. When Israel come to know who He is that was sacrificed for them, and on whose blood their whole shelter hung, what far deeper thoughts and affections will rise toward God! It will be no wonder then that "no leaven shall be seen with you in all your territory for seven days."

From now on there was to be only one place; before, many were allowed. Israel had kept the Passover in Egypt, house by house, and in the wilderness only at first. But now in the land it might have seemed that any place would do, since the whole land was holy. Yet Jehovah chose one place only. He would take His blessing, and Israel's enjoyment of it, completely out of their hands. He would bless them all the more by tying it to His own presence.

And note that only Deuteronomy insists on the place of celebration. We have nothing about it in Exodus, because there Israel kept the feast in Egypt. We have nothing about it in Numbers, because there they kept it in the wilderness. But in Deuteronomy God settles it with full authority, because there we have the instructions for the land.

The people were not to choose for themselves. To human thinking it might seem a very small matter where or how they kept the feast, as long as they kept it at all. But note this carefully, reader, and think it over: human thinking had nothing whatever to do with the matter. It was divine thinking and divine authority altogether. God had a right to lay down and settle where He would meet His people. He does this in the clearest and strongest way in this passage. Three times over He inserts the weighty clause, "at the place that the LORD your God will choose."

God would gather His beloved people around Himself, so that they might feast together in His presence. He would rejoice in them, and they in Him and in one another. All this could happen only in the one special place He had appointed. Self-will might say, "Can we not keep the feast at home with our families? What need is there of a long journey? If the heart is right, surely the place cannot matter very much." We reply that the clearest and best proof of a right heart is a simple, earnest desire to do the will of God. God had appointed a place where He would meet His people. That was quite enough for everyone who loved and feared Him. There they would be found, and nowhere else. His presence alone could give joy, comfort, strength and blessing to all their great national gatherings.

The Passover, held in the first month of the year, was to celebrate Israel's deliverance from Egypt, but more importantly, to look forward to the death of the Lord Jesus — "Christ, our Passover lamb, has been sacrificed" (1 Corinthians 5:7). Israel did not understand that spiritual meaning, but God did. But the Lord commanded that once they were settled in the land, they were to keep the Passover only at the place where the LORD chooses to make His name dwell. That centre is Jerusalem.

God had chosen one place — at that time a real location, the temple in Jerusalem — and He had forbidden every other. No one among the people had the authority to say, "I would like to celebrate the Passover, but in a different place." God had appointed the place, and He had described it. It was the place where His Name dwelt. The parallel to the New Testament is obvious. We cannot break bread just where we want to, but we do so where God desires it.

But note it carefully and think it over: human thinking had nothing to do with the matter. It was divine thinking and divine authority from first to last. God had the right to lay down and settle where He would meet His people. He does so here in the clearest and strongest way, inserting the weighty clause three times over: "at the place that the LORD your God will choose."

There was to be but one place from then on; many were allowed before. It had been taken in Egypt, house by house, and in the wilderness only at first. But now in the land, where it might have seemed any place would do because it was the holy land, the LORD chose one sole place. He would take His blessing, and Israel's enjoyment of it, right out of their hands. He tied it to His own presence, and so blessed them all the more. The LORD chose one place, and one place only, for keeping the Passover: it was where He Himself dwelt.

Here is the all-important point about "the place," pressed so strongly in all three great occasions in our chapter. God would gather His beloved people around Himself, so that they might feast together in His presence. He would rejoice in them, and they in Him and in one another. Self-will might say, "Can we not keep the feast in the bosom of our families? What need is there of a long journey? Surely if the heart is right, the place cannot matter very much." We answer that the clearest and best proof of a right heart is a simple, earnest desire to do the will of God.

So this phrase cannot mean what some have said it means. It does not cover the period from the evening of one day to the evening of the next, counting time our way. "Between the two evenings" was a certain time on the fourteenth day of Nisan, and Deuteronomy 16:6 defines it as the going down of the sun.

So Jesus was at the place God had chosen for the sacrifice of the Passover. The month, the day, and the hour had come: the going down of the sun. As for the chief priests and scribes, they were looking for a way to kill Him. They did not know that He was the true Passover Lamb. They did not understand that the time had come for the Passover to be killed.

The slaying of the lamb answers to Christ dying and shedding His blood, so that God should pass over. But the Passover was to be kept every year as a remembrance, at a time when there was no passing over. They were in the land, as we are in heavenly places in Christ, and they celebrated a deliverance and redemption finished long ago.

But the feast that went with the Passover brings out above all the ground of our deliverance and of all blessing: the infinite sorrow and death of the Son of God. So joy is not what suits us here, but "the unleavened bread, the bread of affliction," in the solemn judgment of ourselves.

God had chosen a place, which was then a geographical location (the temple in Jerusalem), and had forbidden any other. No one among the people had the authority to say, "I would like to celebrate the Passover, but in a different place." God had appointed the place, and He had described it: it was where His Name dwelt. We cannot break bread just where we want. We do it where God desires it, in the local assembly, where the Lord is among those gathered to His Name.

From now on there was to be only one place, though many had been allowed before. It had been taken in Egypt, house by house, and in the wilderness only at first. But now, in the land where it might have seemed that any place would do because it was the holy land, the LORD chose one single place. He would take the matter of His blessing, and of Israel's enjoyment of it, out of their hands. He would bless them all the more by binding it up with His presence.

Only Deuteronomy insists on the place of celebration. Exodus says nothing about it, because there Israel kept the feast in Egypt. Numbers says nothing about it, because there they kept it in the wilderness. Deuteronomy settles the matter with full authority, because there we have the instructions for the land.

Our chapter presses "the place" hard in all three great gatherings, and the all-important point is this. God would gather His beloved people around Himself. There they would feast together in His presence. There He would rejoice in them, and they in Him and in one another. All this could only happen in the one special place of divine appointment. Self-will might say, "Can we not keep the feast in our own families? Why the long journey? Surely if the heart is right, the place cannot matter much." To all this we reply that the clearest and best proof of a right heart would be a simple, earnest desire to do the will of God.

In Matthew 18:20 we read the words of our blessed Lord, "For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them." Here we have the divine centre: "My Name." This answers to "the place which the LORD your God shall choose to put His name there." Deuteronomy names that place again and again, and insists on it with force. Israel had to gather at that one place. People could not choose for themselves. Human choice was shut out.

First, roast it with fire; do not boil it in water. Boiling applies the heat indirectly, through water. Roasting puts the body of the lamb in the direct fierceness of the flame, which always pictures the searching judgment of God. If we are sheltered from judgment by the precious blood of Christ, we are always to take that fierce judgment to heart as applying to ourselves. He endured it to win our deliverance.

Real self-judgment must go along with our resting on Christ's work, just as the Israelites then ate the bread of affliction. With Christ's death for us comes the sense of sin, and shame, and humiliation. Repentance goes along with faith. They are to "cook it and eat it at the place that the LORD your God will choose." Still, the text never mentions joy. Everything it says seems to assume a conscience at work rather than an outflow of heart, for it adds, "and in the morning you shall turn and go to your tents." This is not so much fellowship bringing the people of God together. Each one retires, as it were, to his own home, to think both of what he was and of what God had done for his soul. In the Passover, only the individual is mentioned, taken up with mercy to himself or his own.

For Israel at least, there was a return to their own things. This was not the kind of peaceful communion with the LORD that detached them, in principle, from everything else to Himself. It was far from all that the LORD designed and gave in the feasts that would follow. More was needed to give full enjoyment of the LORD's blessing in His chosen place. These words belong only to the Passover. They are dropped for the Feast of Weeks and for the Feast of Tabernacles.

The leading feature here is "the unleavened bread." … We all understand that unleavened bread is the picture of that holiness of heart and life which is absolutely essential to the enjoyment of true communion with God. We are not saved by personal holiness but, thank God, we are saved to it. It is not the ground of our salvation; but it is an essential element in our communion. Allowed leaven is the death-blow to communion and worship.

Seven days covers the whole week. We are to be an unleavened company not on Sunday only but all the week. That is what 1 Corinthians 5 says.

In verse 3 the unleavened bread is called "bread of affliction," holiness in affliction, when you come to it by the sacrifice of Christ; in 1 Corinthians 5 it is called the "unleavened bread of sincerity and truth." It takes the character of self-judgment, and sorrow before God.

We believe it sets before us those deep exercises of heart which the Holy Spirit produces by bringing powerfully before us what it cost our adorable Lord and Saviour to deliver us from our sins and from the judgement which those sins deserved.

Verse 8 repeats the obligation to eat unleavened bread six days. On the seventh there was a solemn assembly to Jehovah the God of Israel, and no work to be done. His work they celebrated and rested in. Only in this Feast is work here forbidden to be done.

No work and no leaven were God's rules for the Passover week (Lev. 23:6-8). No work, for the great work of Calvary was in view (in picture), and no human effort may stand alongside it. Christ is not a mere helper of sinners, making up for their deficiencies; He is Saviour, doing all that is necessary to save us from eternal ruin.

The feast of Tabernacles alone is called a solemn assembly, or day of restraint, as far as I am aware. The one other place is the feast of Passover in Deuteronomy 16:8, and I believe it has a similar purpose.

Sometimes, I do not say always, we are apt to remain in this feast of unleavened bread, and not get on far enough to the others. It is deliverance, but it is occupation with the state in which you were when you were delivered, so it is "the bread of affliction." There must be holiness, or we cannot have anything to say to God; but we do not get fullness of communion and blessing in it.