The Bloody Doorframe of the World Text: Exodus 12:21-28
Introduction: God's Peculiar Pedagogy
We live in an age that despises liturgy, ritual, and anything that smells of commanded repetition. Modern evangelicalism, in its flight from formalism, has often landed in the barren fields of formlessness. We want a faith that is spontaneous, authentic, and above all, personal, which usually means a faith that is custom-built by me, for me. We think of worship as something we generate from within, a feeling we work up, a sincerity we manufacture. But God's pedagogy, His method of teaching His people who He is and what He has done, is entirely different. It is tangible, bloody, corporate, and commanded.
God does not just give us abstract propositions to believe; He gives us rituals to perform. He gives us dramas to enact. He understands that we are not disembodied minds. We are creatures of flesh and blood, and so He condescends to teach us through our senses. He gives us a story we can see, smell, touch, and taste. The Passover is not a mere memorial service for a past event. It is a divinely-scripted, participatory sermon. It is a sign-act that preaches the gospel in crimson.
What we have here in Exodus 12 is the institution of the central sacrament of the Old Covenant. This is not a suggestion. It is not a helpful tip for family worship. It is a divine statute, a law for living under the shadow of God's deliverance. And in this statute, we find the very architecture of our salvation. We learn that deliverance from judgment is specific, it is substitutionary, it requires obedient faith, and it must be catechized into the next generation. This is not just a story about them, back then. This is the story of the world, and the bloody doorframe is the only entrance into the household of God.
The Text
Then Moses called for all the elders of Israel and said to them, “Bring out and take for yourselves lambs according to your families and slaughter the Passover lamb. And you shall take a bunch of hyssop and dip it in the blood which is in the basin, and touch some of the blood that is in the basin to the lintel and the two doorposts; and none of you shall go outside the doorway of his house until morning. And Yahweh will pass through to smite the Egyptians; and He will see the blood on the lintel and on the two doorposts, and Yahweh will pass over the doorway and will not allow the destroyer to come into your houses to smite you. And you shall keep this event as a statute for you and your children forever. And it will be, when you enter the land which Yahweh will give you, as He has promised, you shall keep this service. And it will be when your children say to you, ‘What is the meaning of this service to you?’ that you shall say, ‘It is a Passover sacrifice to Yahweh who passed over the houses of the sons of Israel in Egypt when He smote the Egyptians, but delivered our homes.’ ” And the people bowed low and worshiped. Then the sons of Israel went and did so; just as Yahweh had commanded Moses and Aaron, so they did.
(Exodus 12:21-28 LSB)
Covenant Order and Bloody Application (v. 21-22)
The instructions begin with God's ordained structure of authority.
"Then Moses called for all the elders of Israel and said to them, 'Bring out and take for yourselves lambs according to your families and slaughter the Passover lamb.'" (Exodus 12:21)
Notice the chain of command. God speaks to Moses, and Moses summons the elders. The elders then carry the command to the heads of the households. This is the antithesis of a democratic free-for-all. God establishes order, and His salvation is administered through that order. Furthermore, the command is directed to the family unit: "according to your families." Salvation here is not an individualistic affair, a matter of private spiritual experience. It is a household affair. The father, the head of the home, is responsible for procuring the lamb and officiating this bloody sacrament for his family. This is federal headship in action. The faith and obedience of the father protects the entire household. This principle is an offense to our egalitarian age, but it is God's design. The family, not the individual, is the foundational building block of the covenant community.
Then comes the central, sacramental act.
"And you shall take a bunch of hyssop and dip it in the blood which is in the basin, and touch some of the blood that is in the basin to the lintel and the two doorposts; and none of you shall go outside the doorway of his house until morning." (Exodus 12:22)
It is not enough that the lamb is slain. A dead lamb in a bowl saves no one. The blood must be applied. This is a picture of faith. Faith is not mere intellectual assent to the fact that a lamb died. Faith is the instrument that applies the benefits of that death to us. The hyssop, a common, humble plant used for purification, is the instrument of application. Faith is our hyssop. We must, by faith, take the shed blood of Jesus Christ and apply it to the doorposts of our own lives, our own families, our own hearts. Without this application, the death of the substitute remains an objective historical fact with no saving benefit to us.
The command to stay inside is crucial. "None of you shall go outside... until morning." To be inside the house with the blood-stained door is to be safe. To step outside is to place yourself under the judgment that is sweeping through the land. There is no neutrality. You are either under the blood, or you are under the wrath. This is a stark picture of abiding in Christ. There is no salvation outside of Him. To wander from the fellowship of the saints, to step outside the protections of the covenant, is to expose yourself to the destroyer.
The Discriminating Judgment (v. 23)
Verse 23 explains the divine mechanics of this night.
"And Yahweh will pass through to smite the Egyptians; and He will see the blood on the lintel and on the two doorposts, and Yahweh will pass over the doorway and will not allow the destroyer to come into your houses to smite you." (Exodus 12:23)
Let us be clear about who is acting here. Yahweh is passing through to smite. The destroyer is not some rogue demon or an independent angel of death. The destroyer is an agent of Yahweh's own wrath, sent by Him and commanded by Him. God is not a passive observer; He is the righteous judge executing sentence upon a rebellious and wicked nation.
What makes the difference between a house of life and a house of death? It is not the moral superiority of the Israelites. They were sinners, just as the Egyptians were. The difference is the blood. God does not look for their inherent righteousness. He looks for the blood of the substitute. The blood is not a magical charm that repels God. It is a sign that satisfies Him. It is a testimony that death has already occurred here. Justice has been served upon the substitute. Therefore, God in His justice "passes over" that house. This is the doctrine of penal substitutionary atonement in its raw, Old Testament form. The blood does not hide us from God; it is the very thing that enables God to look upon us in grace.
Perpetual Catechesis (v. 24-27)
God's deliverance is not meant to be a forgotten memory. It is to be the central, shaping story for all future generations.
"And you shall keep this event as a statute for you and your children forever. And it will be, when you enter the land which Yahweh will give you, as He has promised, you shall keep this service." (Exodus 12:24-25)
This is the institution of a perpetual ordinance. This ritual is to become part of the rhythm of their lives, forever. Notice that it is commanded in faith. They are to keep this service when they enter the land, a land they do not yet possess. Our worship is always like this. We celebrate the Lord's Supper, remembering a past deliverance at the cross, which fuels our faith for the promised inheritance that is not yet fully ours. Liturgy is the engine of covenant faithfulness, driving us from the memory of past grace toward the hope of future glory.
And this liturgy is designed to be a teaching tool.
"And it will be when your children say to you, ‘What is the meaning of this service to you?’ that you shall say, ‘It is a Passover sacrifice to Yahweh...'" (Exodus 12:26-27)
God builds the question right into the sacrament. The ritual is meant to be strange. It is meant to provoke curiosity. A father smearing blood on a doorframe with a plant ought to make a child ask, "Dad, what are you doing?" This is God's ordained method for covenant succession. The worship of the parents is the catechism of the children. And the answer is not, "This is just what we do," or "It's a meaningful tradition." The answer is the gospel. "You shall say, 'It is a Passover sacrifice to Yahweh who passed over the houses of the sons of Israel in Egypt when He smote the Egyptians, but delivered our homes.'" You tell the story. You preach the sermon. You recount the mighty acts of God in judgment and salvation. This is the fundamental duty of every Christian father.
The Response of Faith (v. 27-28)
The people's response is twofold, and it is the only proper response to such grace.
"And the people bowed low and worshiped. Then the sons of Israel went and did so; just as Yahweh had commanded Moses and Aaron, so they did." (Exodus 12:27-28)
First, doctrine leads to doxology. When they understood the what and the why of God's plan, they bowed down and worshiped. True worship is not an emotional spasm; it is a reasoned response to the truth of who God is and what He has done. They understood their peril and the gracious provision of the substitute, and the result was humble adoration.
Second, worship leads to obedience. They did not just feel grateful. They got up and did exactly what God commanded. They got the lamb. They got the hyssop. They painted the doors. There was no committee to debate the merits of the plan, no focus group to see if a less bloody ritual might be more seeker-sensitive. There was simple, straightforward, faithful obedience. This is the mark of a people who have been truly grasped by grace.
Our Passover Lamb Has Been Sacrificed
This entire chapter is a freight train of typology, and its destination is Calvary. The Apostle Paul leaves no room for doubt: "For Christ, our Passover lamb, has been sacrificed" (1 Corinthians 5:7). Every detail here screams the name of Jesus.
He is the Lamb without blemish, selected and slain. His blood is the only substance in the universe that can satisfy the wrath of a holy God. Faith is the hyssop that applies His finished work to our lives, marking us as belonging to Him. To be "in Christ" is to be safe inside the house when the judgment of God passes over. Outside of Him, there is only the terror of the destroyer.
And we too have a perpetual ordinance, a service to keep until we enter the promised land of the new heavens and the new earth. We have the Lord's Supper. And when our children see us take the bread and the wine, they ought to ask, "What is the meaning of this service to you?"
And we must be ready with the answer. We must tell them that this is our Passover meal. This is how we remember the greater exodus that Jesus accomplished. This bread is His body, broken for us. This wine is His blood of the new covenant, shed for the forgiveness of our sins. By His death, the destroyer has passed over us. By His death, we have been delivered from our bondage to sin. By His death, we have been set free.
And having heard this story, having been reminded of this grace, our response must be the same as that of Israel. We must bow low and worship. And then we must get up and do all that He has commanded us.