And take a bunch of hyssop, and dip [it] in the blood that is in the bason, and smear the lintel and the two door-posts with the blood that is in the bason; and none of you shall go out of the door of his house until the morning.
This verse gives Israel the last practical step of the Passover night: put the blood from the basin onto the doorway, then stay indoors until morning. Small details — the brush, the three places marked, the shut door — carry the whole weight of shelter from judgment.
A dead lamb by itself would have changed nothing.
The slain lamb would not have ensured the protection of a single household. If the people had rested in the fact that the lamb was killed, nothing would have stopped the destroyer from entering their houses. Every house in all their tribes would have had its dead, just like the houses of the Egyptians. No; it was not the death of the lamb, but the sprinkling of the blood, that secured their safety. Let the reader ponder it well. Is there no danger that he rests in the fact of Christ's death for protection? Does he never stop to ask whether he is under its blessed power and value before God?
So how did an Israelite come under that protection?
It was simply and solely through the obedience of faith. They had nothing to do except believe and obey. It was not for them to discuss the method provided, whether it was reasonable or not, or what it might be worth. Everything depended upon the heed they gave to the word of God.
The brush God named was the smallest of plants. One writer draws out what that pictures.
Solomon "spoke of trees, from the cedar that is in Lebanon to the hyssop that grows out of the wall" (1 Kings 4:33) — that is, the greatest and the least of the plants. The hyssop was a little shrub that did not even take root in the ground, but came out between two stones in the wall. Have I any part in my own redemption? Yes. What is it? My sins, that is all. And of course, if I truly sense what my sins are, I will bow before God in repentance, in self-judgment, and in owning those sins. I believe the bunch of hyssop expresses what goes on in the soul of a sinner who has been brought to see his guilt. It is contrition before God, a sense of my sins and of what I am. My sins would have brought me into death and judgment before God, and nothing but the blood of the Substitute can meet the need of my case. So, in faith, and knowing my need, I put that blood between my soul and God, and I am safe.
The verse names the lintel and the two doorposts. The threshold is left out. One commentator sees that gap as the line between faith and contempt.
God said, Put the blood upon the lintel and the two side posts, and that is where faith puts it — above me and around me. But where does modern criticism put it? I will tell you. These critics put it on the threshold; they trample the blood of Christ beneath their feet.
Once the door was shut, nobody inside could see the blood they had just put on.
The blood was on the outside of the house. The people inside could not see it. The blood was for the eye of God alone. In the darkness of midnight His eye could tell whether there was blood on the door or not.
Two homes could be equally safe and not equally happy.
Because in both cases the blood was there, both were equally safe, equally secure. Both were not equally happy, both were not equally certain of their security. And why? Simply because they did not equally credit the testimony or word of God. The blood outside made both equally secure. But to be equally assured, they needed the testimony of God, carried inside and believed.
The last command keeps everyone indoors until daylight, with no stepping out to check the doorpost.
Those covered by the blood had to remain in the house until the morning. Judgment was falling on the Egyptian world. The firstborn were to stay safely housed beneath the blood. When the morning appeared their deliverance from Egypt became an accomplished fact. We pass through the night of this world to the brightness of the morning that is coming. Thanks be to God, the efficacy of the blood of Christ abides throughout the night. No fresh application of it is needed.
- Shed — a killed lamb saved nobody by itself. Without the blood applied, Israelite homes would have had their dead too.
- Applied — blood left in the basin pictures the person who knows Christ died, but never takes that death as his own.
- Hyssop — God chose the least of plants as the brush. The blood is claimed from a place of self-judgment and confessed sin.
- Placed — above and around the door, never on the threshold. Faith puts the blood overhead, not underfoot.
- Sheltered — the mark is outside, for God's eye. Safety rests on the blood, and peace rests on believing His word about it, all night until morning.
And Jehovah will pass through to smite the Egyptians; and when he sees the blood on the lintel, and on the two door-posts, Jehovah will pass over the door, and will not suffer the destroyer to come into your houses to smite [you].
The night before Israel left Egypt, the Lord Himself came through the land in judgment. Every household lay in its path — Israelite as well as Egyptian. One thing made the difference: a mark of blood on the doorway, and God's promise to hold the destroyer back at such a door.
This night was not one more plague. William Kelly says the question settled then was a question about sin, and Israel stood in its path as much as Egypt.
But the question decided that Passover night affected the Jew no less than the Egyptian. God was there as Judge, dealing with man's sin. How then could Israel escape? This is what had to be set out: a slain lamb becomes the only means of security — the sprinkled blood of the lamb. Other requirements on God's part showed that this had a different and infinitely more solemn character than the earlier plagues. It was a fact, but also a type — not a type of some earthly trouble, but of judgment before the eyes of God: the judgment of sin. So this was not merely insects, or natural forces turned against Egypt, but God employing a destroyer against the firstborn of man and beast.
The mark on the door carried a message, and the destroyer was the one who read it.
The destroying angel passed through the land of Egypt and struck the firstborn in every house. Israel escaped by the death of the lamb, and by that alone. The blood sprinkled on the doorpost told the destroyer that the sentence of death had already been carried out, and so he passed over. So the blood marked off the houses of the Israelites from those of the Egyptians. When it was a question of life or death, the blood, and the blood alone, fixed the dividing line.
Edward Dennett presses a detail: the verse ties safety to blood on the door, not to a lamb that died.
The slain lamb would not have secured the protection of a single household. Had the people rested in the fact that the lamb was killed, the destroyer would have found no barrier to his entrance into their houses. There would not have been a house in all their tribes without its dead, just like those of the Egyptians. No; it was not the death of the lamb, but the sprinkling of the blood, that secured their safety.
What does "pass over" mean? W. W. Fereday finds the answer in Isaiah 31:5, where older translations use "pass over" for the word the ESV renders "spare".
Jehovah "passing through" is one thing; Jehovah "passing over" is quite another. Isaiah 31:5 will help us here: "Like birds hovering, so the LORD of hosts will protect Jerusalem; He will protect and deliver it; He will spare and rescue it." The language of Isaiah 31 is very like that of Exodus 12, and its meaning is clear. It gives the idea of a mother bird hovering over her nest, watching it closely and mounting guard over her young. This is what Jehovah promised to do in Egypt for all who, obeying His word, sprinkled the blood on their houses. He would Himself be the protector of such people. He would Himself stand between them and all harm.
Turpin sets two obedient Israelites side by side, and separates being safe from feeling safe.
It is no question of what an Israelite was, or of what he felt. What God looked for as He passed through the land that night was the lintel sprinkled with the blood of the appointed lamb. Wherever that was before His eyes, God was satisfied, and they were secure… Suppose one Israelite obeys God's directions about the lamb and the blood in every detail, then spends that terrible night inside in fear and anxiety. Another obeys the same commands equally, sprinkles the lintel, and goes in to rest quietly, happy and assured… In both cases the blood was there, so both were equally safe. Both were not equally happy… simply because they did not equally believe the testimony or word of God.
J. N. Darby applies the same principle to God's dealings with us.
And just so in God's dealings with us: the judgment that has passed on Christ because of sin is the security of every believer against judgment… God cannot pass over the blood of the Lord Jesus and charge to sinners the sins He has washed away. He cannot charge sin to a believer without condemning the value of His blood-shedding, and in effect denying that it works.
- Judge. God came through Egypt dealing with sin, and Israel stood in the path as much as Egypt.
- Blood. The mark on the door said the death sentence had already fallen on a substitute. That alone drew the dividing line.
- Applied. A lamb killed but not sprinkled would have left the house open. God looked for blood on the door.
- Guarded. "Pass over" pictures God hovering over the marked house. He stood between His people and the destroyer.
- Assured. Everyone behind the blood was equally safe. Only those who believed God's word were at rest.